#samcro fic

[laurfilijames]

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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[puffins-muffins]

Control - The Beginning

Pairing: Jax Teller x Female!Reader Word Count: 7,300 Summary: You return to your hometown as a successful defense attorney to represent SAMCRO President Jax Teller, the former love of your life, in a murder trial. Years after your painful breakup, unresolved feelings resurface, and the lines between your professional duty and personal desires blur. Warnings: 18+ only please, cursing, cheating, mentions of parental death. A/N: So, this is my first Jax/SOA AU-ish fic. This establishes Jax & Reader's beginnings as teens/young adults. Feedback is so greatly appreciated! Beta'd by just myself, all mistakes are my own. I am also new to posting like this so apologies now if I've missed anything. We'll learn as we go. Please be kind.

Jax Teller leaned against his bike in the Charming High School parking lot, his leather kutte draped over his broad shoulders. With a lean, muscular build, he exuded an aura of danger on two wheels. His sandy blonde hair was a tousled mess, falling just below his ears and framing his face in a way that highlighted his rebellious charm. One flash of his boyish, crooked grin sent girls swooning, but when you walked past, you didn’t even glance his way.

Curiosity piqued, Jax straightened up. “Hey,” he called, his voice smooth yet laced with cocky confidence. “You too good to say hi?”

You turned your head slightly, raising an eyebrow at him. “What?”

“I’m Jax Teller.” He starts. “You’re Jimmy’s daughter, aren’t you?” his eyes narrowing slightly as recognition dawned. “I saw you at the clubhouse a few weeks ago when your old man patched into our charter.”

You shrugged, barely reacting. “Yeah, that’s me. So what?”

Jax smirked, intrigued by how unimpressed you seemed. “Just surprised I haven’t seen you around more,” he said, stepping a little closer. “You’re not into the whole MC thing?”

You quickly glanced him up and down, a playful glint in your eye. “Not really my scene.” 

Jax tilted his head, genuinely interested. “That why you won’t give me the time of day, huh?”

You shrugged again, a smirk creeping onto your lips. “Maybe you’re just not as charming as you think you are.”

His grin widened. Most girls would’ve melted under his attention, but you? You gave as good as you got. He liked that. “You might be right, but that’s not going to stop me from trying, darlin’,” he replied, adding a flirtatious wink. “Can I take you somewhere?” he asked, gesturing toward his bike.

You scoffed, glancing down at his bike and then back at him, your tone teasing. “With you? On that? No thanks. I only ride with my dad.”

“Alright, Pep, another time then,” he said, his tone light and flirtatious, making you bite back a smile.

“Pep?” you asked, confusion furrowing your brow. 

“Pepper,” he explained, grinning widely. “You’re kind of spicy, and I like that. I think that nickname suits you.”

After rejecting his ride, he hopped on his bike, strapping on his helmet, ready to leave. “We’ll see how long it takes before you’re begging me to give you a ride.” he said, his voice dripping with innuendo. 

You flashed him a smirk, determination in your eyes. Cool, calm exterior. “Oh, don’t hold your breath, Teller.”

But inside, a rush of conflicting emotions surged through you. His words caused your stomach to flip. The easy banter was just a front; beneath it lay the undeniable pull between you, and you felt it tugging at your heart. As you watched him take off, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you’d be craving that ride sooner than you’d like to admit. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After that first encounter, it was like a slow, steady burn between you and Jax. At first, you made it a point to keep your distance, though it was impossible to ignore the magnetism between you. He’d always find an excuse to talk to you in the halls, leaning against lockers like he owned the damn place. You’d roll your eyes, give him sass, but there was always that spark — the kind that lit up the air around you both.

Then came the day he convinced you to ride with him. He pulled up to your house one Saturday afternoon, engine rumbling beneath him, and shot you that devil-may-care grin. “C’mon, Pep. You’ve been avoiding this long enough.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, one hand on your hip. “I told you, I don’t do rides, Teller.”

But there was a challenge in your voice, and Jax heard it loud and clear. He just revved the engine, making it purr, his gaze never leaving yours. God, he was cute. “One ride with me. You don’t like it; I’ll never ask again. Please.”

You didn’t respond right away, but the way your heart thumped in your chest betrayed you. Something about Jax made you want to push your own limits, and this was no different. Relenting, you grabbed the helmet he offered and swung your leg over the bike behind him, wrapping your arms tightly around his waist. His body was warm and solid beneath your hands, and you could feel his heartbeat through his leather.

The bike roared to life, and before you knew it, you were speeding down the back roads outside town. Wind whipped through your hair, the world a blur of color as the adrenaline pumped through your veins. Every time Jax took a sharp turn, your grip on him tightened, but soon you weren’t holding on out of fear, you were holding on because you didn’t want to let go. The rumble of the engine, the feel of the wind, the pure freedom - it was intoxicating. And the way Jax handled the bike, confident and effortless, only added to the rush.

He’d glance back at you every now and then, smirking when he saw you weren’t just holding on anymore; you were leaning into it, craving more of that wild thrill. And with every ride, it became more than just adrenaline. It was the way he made you feel when you were with him, completely invincible, like nothing in the world could touch you.

The weeks turned into months, and a montage of memories built up between you two. Sneaking out at night, the hum of his bike your only soundtrack as you wrapped yourself around him, laughing into the wind. Bonfires by the old quarry, where he’d pull you close with that cocky grin, his touch always gentle with you.  Late-night rides to nowhere, where you’d hold him a little tighter, whispering sarcastic comebacks into his ear even as your heart betrayed you, racing faster with every mile.

Then there were those unexpected moments, the quiet ones that caught you off guard. Like when you found yourselves perched on the roof of Teller-Morrow, cocooned in your own little world. In those instances, a different side of Jax emerged—one that was introspective and thoughtful. He would often pull out a notebook, jotting down his thoughts and feelings, exposing a vulnerability that stood in stark contrast to his tough exterior. As he lit a cigarette, you would lean into him, savoring the warmth radiating from his body. You’d tease him playfully, the banter punctuated by that same smile tugging at the corners of your lips. And when you thought he wasn’t paying attention, your gaze would linger on him just a little too long. 

It wasn’t long before you realized something had shifted. The thrill of the ride was more than just the speed and adrenaline. It was the way Jax’s hand would find yours when you weren’t paying attention, the way he’d look at you like you were the only thing that mattered. It was the sound of his laughter, the way his eyes softened when he saw you, the fire and sass he loved to tease but never tried to tame.

One night, after a long ride along the coast, the two of you sat by the edge of the cliff, the ocean crashing beneath you. Jax was beside you, leaning back on his hands, his gaze fixed on the horizon. “You know,” he said after a long stretch of silence, his voice low, “I didn’t think you’d ever actually give in.”

You turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow. “Give in to what?”

He grinned, that playful glint in his eyes. “To this. To riding with me. To… us.”

For a moment, you just looked at him, the sunset painting his features in warm, golden light. You couldn’t deny it anymore. The exhilaration wasn’t just from the rides, it was from him. 

“I guess you’re not the worst company,” you admitted, rolling your eyes even as you leaned into him, your head resting against his shoulder.

He chuckled softly, his arm slipping around your waist, pulling you closer. “Yeah, well, you’re my Pep. No one else like you.”

And that’s when you knew you had fallen, not just for the rides, but for the boy who had made you feel alive in ways you hadn’t expected. The boy who saw through your sarcasm, who called you Pepper because he liked your fire, and who made your heart race faster than any ride ever could.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Senior year was a whirlwind. While you were focused on your classes and keeping up with your honor roll status, Jax was slipping further away from school. He barely showed up anymore, spending most of his time at the garage or with the club. There were days when you’d catch glimpses of him, riding in with Opie, that familiar roar of their bikes, the MC patch on his back more of a constant presence than his textbooks.

You had always known Jax was different, more interested in bikes and the MC life than anything school had to offer. But now, it felt like he was already halfway out the door while you were still trying to figure out where the future would take you.

The contrast between the two of you was glaring. You were getting acceptance letters from universities across the country, each one congratulating you on your achievements. It felt surreal, but there was this gnawing ache every time you thought about leaving Charming — leaving him. You had spent the last couple of years with Jax as your constant. The idea of being somewhere without him felt like cutting away a part of yourself.

One afternoon, you met Jax at the garage after school, where he was elbow-deep in the engine of a Harley. He looked up when he heard you approach, wiping his hands on a rag, that familiar grin stretching across his face. “Hey, Pep,” he called, dropping the rag and walking toward you, pulling you in for a quick kiss. “How was your day? Ace another test?”

You rolled your eyes with a smile, nudging him playfully. “Actually, yeah. I got into Berkeley.”

Jax’s face lit up with pride. “Damn, look at you. That’s huge, babe.” He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, squeezing you affectionately.

You leaned into him, inhaling the familiar mix of leather, grease, and smoke. “Yeah… but it’s kinda far, Jax. And I don’t know if I want to go that far. I was thinking maybe San Fran or even Fresno. Somewhere closer.”

Jax looked at you, brow furrowing a bit as he leaned against the workbench. “You’re gonna throw away Berkeley for Charming? Why?”

You shifted, feeling the weight of your answer before you even said it. “Because of you,” you admitted, voice soft but steady. “I don’t want to be miles away from you, from everything I know, my dad. I want to study law, stay close, and—”

He cut you off with a kiss, pulling you closer, his hand resting at the back of your neck. When he pulled away, his eyes were soft but conflicted. “You’re too good for this place. You’ve got this big, bright future ahead of you, and I don’t want to be a reason you hold yourself back.”

You searched his face, trying to understand where this was coming from. “You’re not holding me back, Jax. I want to be near you. Law school, everything — I can do that here.”

He let out a long breath, running a hand through his long hair. “I don’t have a plan. Shit, I’m barely gonna graduate. I’ll probably work at the garage, help with the club… I don’t know where I’ll end up, but it’s not gonna be college, that’s for sure.”

You grabbed his hand, intertwining your fingers with his. “I don’t care about that. I care about you. You don’t have to have some perfect plan. We’ve got time to figure things out.”

Jax smiled softly, but there was something behind it, a flicker of doubt, maybe even fear. He pulled you close, resting his forehead against yours. “You deserve more than just ‘figuring it out.’ You deserve everything. And I don’t know if I can give you that.”

You held his face in your hands, making him look at you. “You’ve always been enough for me, Jax. Always. I’m not going anywhere unless you tell me to.”

Jax only kissed you, this time slower, deeper, like he was holding on to something he was afraid to lose. When he pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours, his voice barely a whisper. “I could never tell you to go. I just… I don’t want to hold you back.”

You kissed him back softly, the noise of the garage fading into the background. “You won’t,” you promised.

But even as you said it, there was a part of you that knew things would never be that simple, not with the club, not with the way Jax was already tied to a world that didn’t leave room for easy choices. Still, in that moment, with his arms wrapped around you and the world at your feet, you believed that somehow, you could make it work.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 Two years into undergrad and everything felt different. The late-night rides and stolen moments that used to bring you and Jax together now seemed like distant memories. You were buried in textbooks and case studies, drowning in deadlines and long hours at your internship. The law classes were brutal and balancing your workload with everything else left you running on fumes. You’d chosen a college about an hour outside of Charming, far enough to give you space but close enough to keep Jax in your life.

But even with that proximity, things were… different. The once easy connection between you and Jax felt strained, pulled thin under the weight of time, distance, and the lives you were both living now.

You were sitting at a small table in a coffee shop near your campus, your laptop open and legal notes scattered everywhere. Your phone buzzed, a text from Jax lighting up the screen. Hey, been trying to call. Busy?

You stared at the message for a moment, guilt swirling in your chest. You had seen the missed calls earlier, but your study group had gone long, and then there was work. You typed out a quick reply: Yeah, sorry. Studying. You okay?

His response came fast. Yeah, just haven’t seen you in a while. Miss you.

That simple sentence hit harder than you expected. You missed him too, desperately. Lately, it felt like missing him was all you did. You weren’t the same girl who had spent nights riding on the back of his bike, laughing into the wind. Now, you were someone constantly pulled in a dozen directions, and Jax was being swallowed up by the club. He was taking on more responsibilities with the Sons, more rides, more late nights. And you knew what came with that lifestyle - the danger, the temptations. You’d heard about other women. Nothing concrete, but the rumors alone were enough to keep you awake at night.

You texted back, I miss you too. Maybe I can come by tomorrow?

Yeah. I’ll be at the clubhouse. Be good to see you.

The next day, you drove back to Charming, your stomach knotted with a mixture of excitement and anxiety. You parked outside the clubhouse, a place that used to feel like a second home, but now felt distant — like you didn’t quite belong in Jax’s world anymore. You walked inside and immediately saw him at the bar, his back turned as he talked with Opie.

“Hey,” you called, and he turned, that familiar smile lighting up his face as he saw you.

“Hey yourself!”  he said, walking over to wrap his arms around you, a tender kiss placed on your lips. The feel of him, solid and warm, instantly melted some of the tension inside you. For a moment, it felt like everything could be okay, like you were still those two kids who fell in love years ago. But as soon as he pulled away, reality slipped back in.

He led you back to his clubhouse room. Both of you sitting on the bed, his hand resting on your leg as if to anchor you both. You made small talk, catching up on each other’s lives, but the conversation felt stilted. There were gaps now, things unsaid between you, like the life he was leading in the club, the hours he spent with them, and the stories you heard but never wanted to ask about.

“School’s killing me,” you admitted. “I barely have time to breathe, let alone come back here. It’s just... a lot.”

Jax nodded, but you could see the distance in his eyes, the frustration he was trying to mask. “Yeah, you’ve been busy. I get it.”

You sighed, looking into his eyes. “Do you? Because it feels like… I don’t know, like we’re both living these separate lives. When’s the last time we spent more than an hour together?” There was always this heightened tension between you two now.

Jax’s jaw clenched, and he leaned back, rubbing a hand over his face. “I know, I know. But it’s not just you. I’ve got a lot going on too, with the garage, the club and everything…” he trails off.

“And what does ‘everything’ include?” you asked, your voice quieter, a trace of the hurt you’d been holding back slipping through.

He looked at you for a long moment, eyes shadowed with a mix of guilt and defensiveness. “What are you asking?”

You hesitated. This was the conversation you’d both been avoiding, but you couldn’t pretend anymore. “I’m asking if there’s someone else, Jax. I’m asking if the club has taken more than just your time.”

His expression hardened, but there was a flicker of something else beneath it - regret, maybe. “There’s no one else, Pep. Don’t be ridiculous.” He snapped. “But this life… it’s not easy. And you’re not here as much. I’m not saying that’s your fault, but it’s how it is.”

You nodded, blinking back the sting in your eyes. “Yeah, I get it. You’re right. We’re both busy, and it’s hard. But we’re growing apart, Jax. And I don’t know how to fix that.”

He reached for your hand, squeezing it gently. “I don’t want to lose you. But I don’t know how to fix it either.”

There it was — the raw truth neither of you had said out loud until now. You still loved each other, deeply, but it was like trying to hold on to something that kept slipping through your fingers. The connection that had once felt so unbreakable was fraying at the edges, and neither of you knew if you could tie it back together.

You leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder, his arm wrapping around you like it always had. For now, in this moment, you could pretend that everything was okay. But deep down, you both knew that things had changed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Another year had passed, and your relationship with Jax was hanging by a thread. Between the LSAT’s, your paralegal job, law school applications, you were constantly thinking about the future. A part of you still wanted that future to include Jax, despite all the cracks.

The tension between you two had been building for months. He’d invited you to a big MC party, but things between you were so fragile that you weren’t sure if going was the best thing. The law firm you worked for was in the middle of a huge case and you didn’t think you would be able to get away from the piles of research you had in front of you. Just as you were grappling with whether to go, your phone buzzed, Jax’s name lighting up across your screen.

Hey Pep, you coming to see me, or what? ;)

The pull between duty and heartache twisted in your chest. The case you were working on was critical, your future in law depended on it, and yet, a part of you longed to see him, to feel connected again. But you couldn’t ignore the creeping sense that you no longer fit in his world. The MC lifestyle felt more alien with every passing day.

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard. I’m slammed with work right now… not sure if I can make it.

The moment the message left your screen, a wave of anxiety hit you. Would he be disappointed? Relieved? Part of you wanted him to push back, to make you feel like you still mattered enough for him to want you there.

A few seconds passed, then your phone buzzed again. His response appeared almost immediately, as if he had been waiting for your message just as eagerly.

You’re always slammed with work. But this is important to me. Come on, it’s just one night. I miss you.

Your heart clenched. He was good at that, making you feel guilty for choosing anything that wasn’t him or the MC. You read the message repeatedly, feeling the weight of his words.

"I miss you."

It was what you wanted to hear, but at the same time, it left you more torn than before. School, the case, it all seemed so distant now. Your mind flickered back to the last time you'd seen him, the strained goodbye, the unsaid things between you two. Maybe one night wouldn't change anything, but what if it did?

The screen dimmed as your phone idled, but you couldn't take your eyes off the words, wondering if you could keep walking this fine line between your past and your future.

You typed out ‘I'll try’ and stared at it for a long moment, your thumb hovering over the send button. It felt like a compromise, a way to keep one foot in each world without fully committing to either. But as you sent it, a pit formed in your stomach. You knew deep down that it wasn’t just about this one night—it was about all the nights before and all the ones that could come after.

Your phone buzzed again almost immediately.

That's my girl. I’ll be waiting for you.

His words sent a familiar warmth through you, but there was something bittersweet about it too. His girl. You weren’t sure if you even belonged to him anymore. Jax had a way of making you feel like nothing had changed, like the years apart hadn’t put a canyon between who you were and who you’d both become.

You sighed, glancing at the stack of case files on your desk. The logical part of you said you should stay, focus on the case. But another part, the one that still longed for the way things used to be, pulled you towards him. Like always.

You decided to work for another hour, hoping the mountain of research would drown out the thoughts of Jax and then head to the party. But time slipped away from you and when you finally glanced at the clock, a surge of panic shot through you. You were hours behind. Cursing under your breath, you threw everything into your bag and bolted out of your dorm.

The drive to Charming was long and familiar, each mile pulling you back to a life you’d tried so hard to leave behind. You hadn’t heard from him; you knew you were hours later than you planned, and he probably thought you weren’t coming. You decided to surprise him at this point, to see his face when you showed up after all. Maybe you could feel like you still belonged in his world, even if only for one night.

The roar of motorcycles echoed faintly in the distance, a sound you knew all too well. You parked a little way down from the clubhouse, your heart hammering in your chest as you walked toward the sounds of the party.

The parking lot was crowded with bikes, the familiar smell of leather and gasoline hitting you as you approached the entrance. The music was loud, people spilled out from the doors, laughing and drinking. You weaved through them, feeling the weight of old eyes on you, some curious, others familiar.

As you stepped inside, the chaos of the party washed over you. It was everything you remembered - loud, wild, and unapologetically SAMCRO. You scanned the room, looking for him, the anticipation of seeing him again made your heart race.

As you navigated through the crowded room, the air thick with smoke, alcohol, and the unmistakable roar of laughter and loud voices, you couldn't help but notice the women, Crow-eaters as they were not so affectionately referred as, draped over several members. They were scantily clad, their bodies pressed close to the bikers, and you felt the sharp sting of being out of place. Their boldness, their ease in this world, it was a stark contrast to the careful, controlled way you lived your life now.

You tugged at the hem of your jacket, suddenly hyper-aware of the more conservative clothes you wore and the way you didn’t fit in. You were polished, buttoned-up, and in a crowd like this, it made you feel like an outsider. The club girls knew their place, their roles in the MC hierarchy clear, but you used to think you belonged here. Now it felt foreign, like you were intruding on a life that had moved on without you. You weren’t one of them, and as much as you tried to pretend this night was about reconnecting with Jax, the reality was painfully obvious. This just wasn’t your world.

When you finally spotted him, it wasn’t the reunion you imagined. There he was, in the corner, alone with another girl, a girl too close for comfort. She was laughing, her hand on his chest, and his expression wasn’t one of protest.

Your stomach dropped. You’d heard rumors swirling around for a while, whispers you hadn’t wanted to believe, but this? This was undeniable.

You stormed over, heart pounding. “What the hell, Jax?”

He looked up, startled and shocked, and you saw the guilt flash across his face. The girl backed off immediately, sensing the tension, but it was too late. The damage was done.

“Pep, wait—” he started, but you weren’t having it.

“Wait for what? For you to finish whatever this is?” You could hear the anger and hurt in your voice, and it took everything not to lose it right there in front of everyone.

Jax stood, frustration mixing with his own guilt. “Shit, Babe - It’s not what it looks like. She’s no one, I swear—”

“Then why was she all over you?” You could feel your hands trembling, the betrayal sharp in your chest. “Do you even care anymore, Jax? Or am I just holding on to something that doesn’t exist?”

He stepped closer, grabbing your arm gently. “Of course I care. Pep, you know I love you and I’m not screwing around.”

You wanted to believe him, but that image of him with her was now burned into your mind. Still, as you stared into his eyes, the same eyes that had looked at you with love for years, you found yourself softening. Maybe it was out of habit, maybe it was out of hope, but you nodded, letting out a shaky breath, not wanting to do this with an audience. “Jax, this can’t happen again.”

He nodded quickly, pulling you into his arms. “I know. I’m sorry. I’ll do better. I swear.”

After the confrontation, he had come to you, apologizing, trying to explain away the situation as a misunderstanding, a mistake. And in that moment, you wanted so badly to believe him, to let the history between you two be enough to erase the pain of what you’d seen.

You stayed and he held you close that night, whispering promises that felt hollow. His arms around you were familiar, but they no longer felt like home. You could feel the space between you two, even as he lay beside you, his breath steady as he fell asleep.

You stared at the ceiling, your mind racing. Everything about this night, this life was a far cry from what you had imagined your future would look like. It didn’t matter how many times he apologized or promised to change. Something between you had shifted, and no amount of love was going to fix it. You knew deep down, as you lay there in the dark, that this had to be the end.

It wasn’t just about the girl he flirted with or the way he had laughed with her like you didn’t exist. It was about the path you were on, the future you were fighting for. It was about who Jax had become and who you had grown into. Jax had chosen this life, and in exchange, never fully choosing you. The club would always come first, and that realization cut deeper than anything else.

Your heart felt heavy as you got dressed quietly, careful not to wake him. The thought of leaving without saying goodbye tore at you, but you knew this had to be done. You had to walk away before the weight of staying crushed you.

You leaned down, placing a soft kiss on his lips, your hand resting on the side of his face, memorizing the feel of him one last time. His lips moved slightly under yours, and for a moment, you thought he might wake, but he didn’t. Part of you was relieved, saying goodbye right now would have been too hard.

Standing over him, you took a deep breath, knowing this might be the last time you’d ever see him like this, your Jax - peaceful, vulnerable. Your eyes lingered on him before you turned and walked out of the room, your heart breaking with every step.

The drive out of Charming felt endless, every mile putting more distance between you and the life you once knew. It gutted you to leave him behind, but deep down, you knew it was the only way to save yourself. You had outgrown this world, and it was time to let go of the one person you thought you’d never lose. As you merged onto the highway, the sun barely beginning to rise, you wiped away the tears that had silently fallen. This was the end, and even though it hurt like hell, you knew it was the right choice.

It had been a few weeks since that night and the heaviness in your heart had only deepened. You spent countless hours wrestling with the decision to end things with Jax. The memories of laughter and love felt like distant echoes, overshadowed by the harsh reality of your lives drifting apart. Tonight, you’d finally decided you were going to have the talk - the one that would sever the last ties binding you to him.

As you gathered your things, the clutter of books and notes on your desk only reminded you of the life you were trying to build apart from him. The stack of law books felt like a barrier, protecting you from the emotional storm you knew was about to hit. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the words you would say.

Just as you were about to walk out, a firm knock echoed through your small dorm. You paused, quizzical. You weren’t expecting anyone, and a twinge of anxiety twisted in your stomach.

“Hey,” came the gruff voice from the other side, and your heart dropped. It was Jax.

You opened the door, and your breath caught in your throat at the sight of him. He looked pale, his normally vibrant eyes clouded with something heavy. His usual confident demeanor was replaced by an unsettling vulnerability, and it sent a jolt of panic through you.

“Jax? What’s wrong?”

He stepped inside, his presence both comforting and terrifying. “I—” His voice cracked, and he took a moment, visibly struggling to find the right words. “It’s your dad. He… he’s gone.”

The world around you seemed to tilt on its axis. “What do you mean, gone?” you stammered, heart racing. “What happened?”

His gaze dropped, and he rubbed the back of his neck, a gesture that made your stomach churn. “There was a deal that went south. He got caught in the crossfire. They got him to the hospital, but it was too late.”

Shock flooded your body, a cold wave that left you feeling numb. “No. No, this can’t be happening.” You stumbled back, your vision blurring as tears threatened to spill over. Your father had always been your rock, the steady hand guiding you through life, it had always been just the two of you. “What do you mean caught in the crossfire? He was just… he was fine. I just saw him!”

Jax stepped closer, his expression pained, his own tears threatening to spill over. “I’m so sorry, baby.”

You shook your head, refusing to accept the reality he was laying before you. “You don’t understand. This is… I can’t… I don’t even know how to process this.” The words tumbled out, a desperate plea for understanding that fell flat.

He reached for your arm; his grip firm yet gentle. “Please, let me help you. You don’t have to go through this alone.”

The warmth of his touch ignited a swirl of conflicting emotions within you. He was the last person you wanted to turn to, yet in that moment, the desperation for comfort overpowered everything else. You felt so fragile, and the thought of facing this tragedy without him was daunting.

He cupped your face and in that moment, it was like the ground dropped out from under you. The room spun, and suddenly, everything—the fight, the tension, even your plans to leave Jax, seemed insignificant. Your dad was dead, and the club, the same club that had taken so much from you with Jax, had taken him too.

You collapsed into Jax’s arms, your tears soaking his shirt as you clung to him. And just like that, all your plans shattered. You weren’t thinking about law school anymore. You weren’t even thinking about breaking up with him. All you could think about was the fact that your dad was gone, and Jax was the only one who could understand the weight of that loss.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You and Jax made it through your father’s funeral, now bound together by grief, but even in the depths of your sorrow, it was a fragile connection. He had become your lifeline, holding you close as you navigated the crushing waves of loss. The club surrounded you, providing support in ways you hadn’t expected, ensuring that you wanted for nothing as you buried yourself in your studies during your last year of undergrad. You moved through life on autopilot, the world around you fading into a blur as you focused on school, pretending that everything would somehow work itself out.

As the months passed, acceptance letters from several schools filled your mailbox, a testament to your hard work and determination. But the joy of those accomplishments felt overshadowed by the grief that still clung to you like a heavy fog. Each letter was a reminder of a future you were hesitant to embrace. You were torn, unsure of where to go. Part of you wanted to stay close to Jax, to the familiarity of Charming, while another part yearned for a fresh start, a chance to break free from everything that haunted you.

But while you clung to Jax for comfort, the distance between you was palpable. You knew he was there, physically present, yet your relationship had become stagnant, a shell of what it once was. Jax provided a familiar solace, but it wasn’t enough to bridge the gap that had formed. The love that had once burned brightly now flickered like a candle, struggling against the grief that surrounded you both.

Everything came to a head one night at the clubhouse. As you paused outside Jax’s door, your hand froze on the doorknob, heart racing at the faint sound of laughter inside - his laughter. But he wasn’t alone. With a deep breath, you pushed the door open, and everything seemed to freeze around you.

There he was, sitting on the edge of the bed, shirt half unbuttoned, lips locked with some woman you didn’t recognize. Her laughter mixed with his, a sound that shattered your world once again. Time felt suspended as the reality of the moment set in.

“Jax!” The sound of your voice echoed painfully in the room, causing their laughter to halt abruptly. His eyes widened in shock, but they quickly filled with shame as he processed your presence. The woman beside him blinked, confusion dancing in her eyes, but you ignored her, shaking with betrayal as you stared at him. You didn’t even recognize him anymore.

“Shit! Pep, I—” he started, his voice thick with regret, but the words evaporated in the tension that filled the room.

Anger boiled within you, raw and relentless, as you stepped forward, heart racing. “You said you loved me! You promised you’d do better!”

He shifted uncomfortably, guilt etching deeper lines on his face. He couldn’t meet your gaze, knowing he had fucked up royally. The realization of what he had done hung heavily in the air, a small part of him recognizing that he had sabotaged your relationship out of fear. Fear of feeling stifled, of the stagnant love that no longer felt like home to him either.

When he reached out to touch you, desperation tinged with shame, you yelled. “Don’t! Don’t fucking touch me!” The slap was swift, fueled by raw emotion, landing with a force that surprised even you. The sound echoed in the room, sharp and definitive, as Jax's head snapped to the side, his face flushed with the imprint of your anger. The room seemed to hold its breath, and everything inside you unraveled.

The warmth and safety Jax once provided had turned cold. You could see the regret in his eyes, but it wasn’t enough to undo this betrayal.

That’s when Opie appeared, his expression a mix of sadness and empathy. He stood silently, a protective barrier between you and the pain. Without saying a word, he placed a hand on your shoulder, grounding you as everything inside you threatened to collapse. Jax remained quiet, his shame on full display, knowing he had lost something precious but feeling powerless to reclaim it.

“I’ll take care of her,” Opie said quietly, his voice steady. He didn’t need to say more; Jax knew better than to push. The hurt in his eyes was evident, but it was too late for apologies.

“Pep, please,” Jax finally managed, his voice hoarse, but it lacked the strength of conviction. His eyes were desperate, but beneath that desperation lay a deep-rooted acknowledgment of his failures, the realization that he had successfully pushed you away.

“Stop,” you snapped, tears streaming down your cheeks, anger morphing into deep-seated sorrow.

He stood there, paralyzed, unable to find the words that could ever justify this.

Opie stepped forward, his presence a comforting weight, trying to navigate you out of the room. “Come on. Let’s get you out of here.”

You turned away from Jax, feeling the ache of loss settle in your chest like a stone. Only a silent farewell passing between you. It was done. You and Jax were over.

As Opie led you away, the weight of everything crashed down on you. You had lost your father, and now, Jax too – his love that once brought you to life felt distant, unreachable. The noise of the clubhouse disappeared into the background, leaving you in a world where the only constant was your grief, and you didn’t know how to move forward.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Leaving Charming felt like tearing a piece of your heart out. You had chosen the best law school you could, deliberately picking one as far away from California as possible. It was a decision that both terrified and relieved you. You needed to escape the memories, the grief, and, most of all, Jax.

As the day of your departure drew closer, the reality of it settled in, leaving you with an emptiness that clashed with your determination. You packed your things meticulously, each item a reminder of what you were leaving behind. But as much as you wanted to flee from your past, a part of you still ached for closure.

So, you agreed to meet Jax for a final goodbye, knowing it was something you both needed, even if it felt hollow. You chose a secluded spot in the park where you used to share lazy afternoons, a place where laughter once rang in the air. But today, the atmosphere was heavy with unspoken words and lingering sadness.

Jax was already there when you arrived, leaning against his bike, arms crossed, looking every bit the man you'd fallen for. His eyes locked on yours, and for a moment, neither of you said anything. The silence felt thick, filled with all the things you couldn’t say anymore.

“So, this is it,” Jax finally said, his voice quieter than usual. There was no edge, no teasing, only rawness.

You nodded, unsure of how to respond without unraveling. “Yeah, it is.”

He looked down, running a hand through his hair, the same way he always did when he didn’t know what to say. “I get why you’re going. You need to do this.” Jax replied, his eyes searching yours for something - understanding, perhaps, or forgiveness. “It’s just… hard to believe you won’t be here.”

You swallowed, your heart tightening in your chest. All you could muster was a simple nod of understanding.

For a solitary moment, it was like time rewound, and you were back to being the two of you, before everything got complicated. Before the weight of the club, the violence, and the grief. It would have been so easy to fall into his arms, but you held yourself still, knowing that this moment wasn’t about holding on, it was about letting go.

Jax straightened, stepping closer, his blue eyes still searching yours. “I wanted this life for us, you know? A real future.” His voice broke, just slightly, and it hit you harder than you expected.

“I know,” you whispered, your own emotions threatening to spill over. “But that’s not where we’re headed anymore.”

He reached for your hand, his grip firm but tender, as if it was the last connection keeping you from drifting apart. “Just… promise me one thing.”

You looked at him, your throat tight with unshed tears. “What?”

“Don’t forget about me, alright? Even if I’m just a memory, don’t forget.”

The weight of his words settled deep inside you. You could promise that, but you weren’t sure how much of Jax would be left in you once you stepped onto that plane. Still, you nodded, because in that moment, it was the only thing you could give him.

“Goodbye, Jax.”

His jaw clenched, and he pulled you into a hug, strong and secure. The scent of leather, smoke, and something distinctly Jax, washed over you, making you dizzy with the realization that this was truly the end. And when he let go, you didn’t look back.

As you walked away, each step felt heavier than the last, there was no turning around. Not now. You had to let him go, even if part of you never would.

Part 2 - The Reunion

[voxmortuus]

Hi baby. Saw the prompt list. 😎 May I have #5 ☆ { calling } them late at night to come over for Jax Teller, please?

Thank you. ♥

⇘ PAIRING:⇙ Jax Teller x F!Reader ⇘ UNIVERSE:⇙ Sons of Anarchy ⇘ WORD COUNT:⇙ 1.1k ⇘ TRIGGER WARNINGS:⇙ Fluff | Smut | Jax and his filthy mouth (language) | Foreplay | P-i-V | Pull-out Method | More fluff | PLEASE TELL ME IF I FORGOT ANYTHING!!! I want to make sure readers are fully aware of what they are getting themselves into when they read this… ⇘ NOTES:⇙ Sorry if this is total ass... but I hope this brings you some joy. ⇘ DIVIDER CREDIT:⇙ @nyxvuxoa ⇘ IMAGE CREDIT:⇙ This was found through Google and is not my GIF, if this is your GIF or know whose it is, please inbox me, so I can credit the creator. Thank you! ⇘ My Master Masterlist ⇙

It was just one of those nights, there's only so much scrolling you can do before things become repetitive, and boring in your feeds. Flipping between Tumblr, Reddit, and Facebook, things were becoming boring, and nothing was helping you fall asleep. Tapping the side of your phone, you flip through old photos, smiling now and again looking over Jax's face. Sitting up in bed, you check the time, 12:24 a.m. Sighing, you decide to give it a shot, chances are Jax was up anyway, so why not.

Scrolling down and finding his name, you hit the call button, and wait. Ringing you groan, maybe he was --

"Hey, Darlin'. You alright? What's up?" he asks, you can tell there's a smile on his face.

"Hey, Baby. I know it's kinda late, but would you mind coming over... I can't sleep... and I could use the company." you bite your lip a bit.

"Yeah, sure, I'll be over in 15." he stated.

After the brief conversation and a quick I love you and a hangup, you go unlock your door, knowing he'll lock it when he gets here.

Hearing the motorcycle approach, and the engine turn off, you feel this bubble of excitement pulse through you. It was a matter of time before you heard your front door open, close, lock, and the sound of boots headed your way.

Peeking his head in, he looks over you, and you smile, moving over you pat the empty space in your bed and gesture for him to join you. Taking the hint, he makes his way over, slipping off his vest and coat, tossing his hat on the table, and kicking off his boots and socks, he slips into bed.

"Your pants... your shirt... are in the way." you smirk.

He chuckles and standing back up he takes them off, dropping them to the floor before climbing back in under the covers. You scoot yourself closer, and he wraps his arm around you, pulling you close.

"Can't sleep?" he asked you.

Nodding, your fingers move over his chest as you look up at him and smile. "Thank you for coming over."

"It's nothin' Darlin'. I've always told you I'm a call away." he kisses the top of your head.

A soft smile graces your lips as you scoot a little closer to him and let out a small satisfied smile. But you seem you can't keep your hands from wandering on him. Slipping under the blanket, you keep your gaze on him as you move over his boxers. Smiling, you bite at your lip and kiss him sweetly.

A slight chuckle escapes his lips as he pulls you closer to him, his hand roaming your figure as he moves you to lay on top of him, holding you close, his hips move upward a bit, kissing you deeply, and he slips the shirt from your body and tosses it to the floor along with his clothes.

Pressing yourself against him, your hands move up along his sides and find your way to get tangled in that love head of golden locks. The kissing gets a little heavier between you two, the touching, how you press your hips against him, feeling him harden against you. You move your hand between your legs as you grip him through his boxers. He groans against your lips as he grips your breast, pulling you closer, and kissing you deeper.

The kissing, the touching, the grunts, and the groans were enough to send you into a feral mind. Moving his boxers down, you slip him right between your lips, your hips press yourself down, pressing him deeper inside you. You both end up groaning in unison.

His grip on your hips is tight, his fingers pressing hard against your flesh, indenting as he thrusts upward just enough to finish that last little bit you wanted to slip inside you. The streetlights are the only thing illuminating the room, your shadow cast on the walls. Looking over, he watches your shadow as you brace yourself against his chest and begin to move up and down on his cock.

Holding your thighs in his hands, he watches the way you move against him, your hands pressing into his chest as he moves his own up your body, feeling your flesh under his hands was a sort of high for him. He presses a hand against your chest, between your breasts, as he slowly guides your motions as he thrusts upward.

As you are being guided with a hand on your chest, one on your hip, and his cock between your legs, your head falls back as you let out a loud, long, drawn-out moan. Your body trembles as you pick up on the sounds, the smells, the way the air tastes. Listening to him grunt and your own moans fill the air. It's all palpable. Erotic. Addicting.

The way you both work against and with each other, it sends these shockwaves through both of you, a genuine quickie, you feel yourself building, but of course, it doesn't help with his own buildup, you can tell in his tone, in how frequent his groans become, in how his breath smells. Leaning forward, you moan against his lips. And that's when he tells you to finish with him. He lifts you up, and you grip his cock as he works your bud.

Before you know it, your whole body trembles, feeling those hot ribbons of white pour against you. Whimpering and trembling against him, you begin to pant. Achieving your desired goal, he leans against the pillow but grabs something to clean you up.

There was hardly anything spoken between you two. But you lay there, holding him close, you look up at him as he stares down at you.

"You feel good." you chuckle.

"What even was that?" he chuckles.

"I think it's called a quickie. You should be used to those." you poke.

"Ohh, is that what that was? I like those... but next time... we do a longie... not a quickie," he smirks.

"I'll play with your longie." you chuckle.

"No, Darlin', we call it a cock, longie.... please no." he chuckles. "Besides, I like the way the word cock escapes your lips." he smirked.

"You like your cock between my lips Jax..." you joust.

Gasping he chuckles. "That is true... gotta say, you're a good cocksucker." he winks.

The night continued into the morning, and eventually, you had both fallen asleep. His arms wrapped around you, his face in your hair, and you clung to him like your entire life depended on it. You were glad you called him over, much needed, and the sleep was much better with him there.

[samcrosfaith]

LITTLE MUNCHKIN

Happy Lowman x fem!oc (Bobby's daughter)

summary; Nola finally gives birth to their baby and Happy realizes immediately that it doesn't matter that he isn't the biological father (Nola's abusive ex is). This is a chapter from one of my fanfics on Wattpad called DAYLIGHT in case you wanna check it out. Or maybe I'll even post it here if enough people would be interested! 🤎

warning; this is pure fluff and super soft Happy. 🥰

HAPPY CURSED UNDER HIS BREATH as the cars rushed past him while he stood on the side of the road. After feeling his phone vibrate, he immediately pulled over to call Bobby back, who then told him that the baby was hereᅳ and he was still two hours away from Charming.

He hadn't taken a single break in between, the eight hours on his bike were clearly wearing on his nerves, never knowing if he would make it in time. Even he knew that a birth can take anywhere from twenty minutes to over a day.

Part of him was glad that Nola didn't have to wait for him in pain any longer, but his guilty conscience was gnawing at him. He should've stayed in Charming, like his gut had told him. But Jax needed him, it wasn't like he had a choice.

With a frustrated grunt, he put his phone back in his pocket, slipped his sunglasses back on and mounted his bike to finally head to Charming. There was nothing he could do, all he could do was drive faster and try to avoid the traffic as best he could so he could finally see Nola and the baby.

Knowing that both of them were okay at least eased his worries a little and allowed him to breathe again, his muscles slowly relaxing on the road.

Still, he would've wanted to be there to see their little girl being born, to hear her first cry.

ᅳ

AFTER ONLY AN HOUR Happy was crossing the halls of St. Thomas, every step fast and heavy.  Nurses and other visitors silently got out of his way when they saw the grim expression on his face, although that was just Happy's faceᅳ probably his Kutte played a role too.

When he finally got from the white, depressing hallways to the more colorful one, which meant he was on the right ward, he finally felt some calm wash over him, a sense of relief. And yet he was nervous, nervous about what it would be like to finally see the little girl he and Nola had been waiting for.

How would he feel? Would he feel anything at all? For the first time, Happy felt anxious; afraid that he wouldn't be able to accept and love the little one like he had promised Nolaᅳ it was still Alden's child, as much as he hated to even think about it.

But he didn't have much time to sink further into the spiral of thoughts as Bobby slipped out of one of the rooms and ran a hand over his face and then down his beard. He looked exhausted, but also proud.

"How is she?", was Happy's first question, no hello, nothing, the worry and guilt chiseled into his hard features. "She's pissed? Or can I go in there without getting yelled at"

Bobby chuckled wearily, slapping Happy's shoulder. "No, not at all. She wanted you there, but she doesn't blame youᅳ Nola knew from the beginning that the club always comes first."

"Still, she shouldn't even think like that", the SAA grunted, annoyed with himself. Yes, the club came first, but his priorities had changed and he wanted Nola to know that. "Can I see them?"

"Sure. Nola just fell asleep, the little one's awake but quiet", Bobby told him, bracing his hands against his hips. "I was just going to get a bag for Nola, maybe not a bad idea if someone's there just in case the baby needs something."

"Okay, do that", Happy nodded, his hand already resting on the door handle as he turned back to Bobby one more time. "She look a lot like him?"

Bobby shook his head, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards. "Dark hair, yes. Otherwise she looks like Nola, as if she had stolen her mother's face."

Now it was Happy whose lips formed into a faint smile. "That's good."

And with that, he pushed the handle down and slipped into the room, closing the door behind him. As quietly as he could, he crossed the room until he stood next to the bed. With the smallest smile, he looked down at Nola, visibly proud of his Old Lady who looked absolutely beautiful and stunning despite having just pushed out a child.

He timidly brushed back a few blonde strands that had come loose from her low ponytail and bent down to kiss her hair, inhaling her scent before finally taking a look at the small cot on the other side of the bed, catching his first glimpse of the baby.

His pulse was racing with excitement and anticipation as he walked around the bed and rested both his hands on the top railing of the cot. His lungs hitched and he had to swallow hard when he saw the little bundle, wrapped in a soft pink blanket, the baby noises filling his chest with love and pride.

He had never felt so much pride as he did in that moment.

"Hey Munchkin", he murmured, his voice dropping to a soft whisper. "Nice to finally see you."

As the baby looked up at him with curious eyes, opening and closing her tiny fists, a yawn slipped past her lips before she began to fuss, probably just because she wanted to be held.

And that was exactly what Happy did. With care, as if she were made of porcelain, he slid one of his large hands under her tiny head full of dark hair, the other under her back and then scooped her into his arm. Rocking her gently and never once taking his eyes off her, he sat down on the chair that stood against the wall and sighed contentedly.

No one would be able to wipe that proud smile off his face as he looked down at her and rubbed the side of his index finger across her tiny cheek, listening to the soft sounds the girl made as a tiny hand reached for his hand, her grip on his finger tighter than he expected.

Happy swallowed hard, tears of pride burning in his eyes as a storm of emotions brewed inside him. Most of them were positive, mostly pride, unconditional love and joy. But also fear and anger, anger at the man who was lucky enough to be her father.

But the longer Happy looked at the bundle, he knew that the little girl in his arms belonged to him, that it didn't matter who her biological father was. She was his, his little girl that he would, just like her mother, protect with his life.

"What's your name anyway, huh?" Then Happy realized that he had completely forgotten to ask Bobby about the baby's name.

Excitement rushed through his chest as he spotted the pink plastic wrist band around the girl's wrist and scanned it for the name. A big lump formed in his throat as he read the name Nola had chosen for the girlᅳ the name he had suggested two weeks ago when they were sitting in bed eating pizza while brainstorming a name for the little one.

Ruby Elle Munson.

Ruby had been the name that he had come up with, the first one that popped into his mind that he had really liked. And Elle was Nola's mom's name. They both sounded great together in his opinion but it was the fact that Nola chose the name Ruby that really did something to him, coating his eyes again with a layer of unshed tears. Which of course he immediately wiped away with the back of his hand before they could fall.

"So Ruby, huh?", he asked, his voice thick with emotion. "Fits you perfectly, Munchkin."

Happy chuckled at the soft hiccup sounds he got in response, running his large hand over her tiny head, still fascinated by how much hair such a small creature could have.

"You're hungry? But we'll have to wait until your mom wakes up, I think", he croaked down at Ruby, not sure if Nola had chosen to bottle- or breastfed.

"You can feed her if you want, I chose to bottle feed her after the nurse said I didn't have enough milk", Nola explained, her voice still tinged with sleep as she slowly sat up, the happiest smile on her still slightly exhausted looking, pale face. "She's beautiful, isn't she?"

Happy's head shot up, the man had been too distracted to notice that Nola had woken up. Slowly he stood up, closing the little distance to the bed before settling down on the mattress.

"She's perfect, more than perfect." He placed a hand against Nola's cheek, literally staring at her sincerely after pressing a gentle kiss against her lips. "I'm sorry I wasn't here, babyᅳ you know I would've loved to be there."

"Hey, it's okay", she reassured him with a coo, sliding a little closer to him with a soft groan, which immediately made Happy look up with concern in his dark eyes. "I'm fine, don't worryᅳ just still a little sore", she assured him with a soft hum. "Thanks for coming right away, baby."

"Our daughter was just born, of course I was coming right away, Nola", the SAA grunted deadpanned, slipping his arm behind her back to pull her into his side. "I want you to know that you and Ruby come first, you hear me?"

"Our daughterᅳI like the sound of that", the blonde hummed happily, looking up at Happy with her bright blue eyes, his words meaning more to her than he could ever imagine. "But what about the club? I know how importantᅳ"

Happy quickly cut her off with a kiss he stole from her lips. "I love my club, and yes, I'm always available if they need meᅳ but you and Ruby come first, my priorities have changed, little girl."

As it should be. That didn't mean he wouldn't be there for his club anymore, he would always be there when they needed him. That's what he had signed up for when he joined decades agoᅳ but he had his own little family now and he knew everyone would understand. Not to sound rude, but he didn't want to be like Jax who only saw his sons a few times a week for a few hours because he couldn't find the time otherwise, or like the others who spent their time at the club instead of at home.

He would be there for his Old Lady and their child, not wanting to miss anything Ruby would learn even if that would still take a while. Also, Nola wasn't his maid, he'd make sure to help her around the house enough so she would have the time to just sit down, relax and cuddle with their baby.

"I love you, Lowman", Nola whispered sincerely, biting back a small sob, feelings and hormones still all over the place. "I hope you know thatᅳ and I appreciate everything you do for us."

Happy grunted with a slight nod, placing another kiss on the top of Nola's head as her arm slipped around his waist while she ran her free hand over Ruby's head. "I love you too, little girl, both of you."

"I can tell that she already feels comfortable with you." With a smile, Nola lifted her gaze, kissing the corner of Happy's mouth. "She's completely relaxed in your arms, no fussing and nothing. I know we said we'd see how things would go", Nola paused briefly, nervously chewing on her lower lip. "But in my eyes, you are already her dad, Hap. She belongs to you as much as she does to me."

Nola would probably never know how much her words really meant to Happy. For a moment he was even too emotionally moved to just stare at her and swallow hard instead of answering.

After a long moment of silence, he squeezed her arm, his gaze wandering from her to Ruby. "I know she's mine, it just feels right."

"So..does that mean that you'd like to take on the role of her dad right away?" Nola lovingly nudged his arm with her shoulder, smiling proudly. "She's going to be a daddy's girl, I just know it."

Happy chuckled, nodding his head slightly. "I hope so, she's already got me wrapped around her little finger."

"Mhm..me too, apparently that's already her first talent", Nola replied with a broad grin before she snuggled back into his side and exhaled contentedly.

And Happy enjoyed the moment to the fullest, both of his girls in his arms. That's what it felt to be rich. No amount of money in the world could replace this.

[imagineredwood]

Daddy Yandere Chibs with A? Number 3?

I have a HUNGER for Daddy!!!

Summary: Chibs has honored your foolish wishes for a separation for the last month, but you still haven't come to your senses yet, so it's time for Daddy to bring you back home; by any means necessary.

Warnings: ...it's a yandere drabble 🧍🏻‍♀️ So stalking, manipulation, what could be perceived as emotional abuse because of the manipulation. As always, these are just for fun, not to be taken as a healthy or safe relationship. No means no and turning up at someone's work when they don't want you to or anywhere they're at for that matter is creepy af in real life!! Also daddy kink. I wrote it with somewhat of a big age gap in mind but it doesn't have to be read like that 💕

Also just as a reminder, since dark content isn’t for everyone, I don’t use the regular tag lists for these, only specific taglist for those who want to read the darker content. I wouldn’t want to expose someone that didn’t want to read it. So if you DO want to be tagged, let me know

"You shouldn't be here. This is my workplace. I don't have time for this."

Chibs didn't flinch as you rejected him, his stance relaxed as he leaned against the wall of your breakroom. He'd been dying to see you. He'd given you the space you had asked for, knowing that of course that wasn't what you truly wanted. But he'd given it to you anyway. You would see soon enough that being apart from him wasn't actually what you wanted at all. Yet it was going on a month now, and he had decided that enough was enough.

So he'd ridden over to your job to get you back and now here you were, acting as if you were simply too busy to speak to the man who had loved and protected you these last few years.

"Oh course ya do, Lass. You're on break. You've got,"

He made a show of looking down at his watch and calculating.

"Got 24 minutes left of break, I reckon."

You swallowed dryly, realizing that he did have a point. You took your break at the same time every day. You'd used that break to talk to him on the phone most days. Of course, he would remember. So you tried a different tactic.

"How did you even get in here? It's employees only back here."

The Son nodded, eyes warm as they regarded you, a hint of playful ridicule there as well.

"I've lived in this town a long while, love. Longer than you. All I had to do was ask."

He pulled off the wall then, standing at his full height, taking each slow step one at a time.

"Everyone knows me here. Knows us. All that yellin' about me being so controlling, yet you didn't tell your work to keep me out?"

You gulped as he stalked toward you, eyes on you every second.

"Didn't put me on some kinda list? Didn't tell them that if they saw me to call the cops? None of that?"

You stared at him as your heart pounded in your chest. He wouldn't hurt you; never. But you wouldn't put it past him to somehow manipulate you and the situation into ending with you giving him another chance. All if would take is the feeling of his hands, warm and loving as they caressed you, and your resolve would fall apart. And he knew as much.

You took one more step back and bumped against the wall, the giant silver fridge blocking you on one side, and Chibs arm coming up to block the other. You whimpered, willing yourself to be strong as the scent of leather, cologne, and cigarette smoke flooded your senses. It all smelled just exactly as you remembered and you ached for him, the stone you'd fortified around your heart beginning to crumble.

"Even with all the arguments and disagreements, you know you've always been safest with me. Safe, and at home. You've proven your point. It's time for you to come home with Daddy now, yeah?"

You hesitated for a moment before your head was nodding slowly of its own volition. The Son clicked his teeth and offered you a smile then, eyes trailing down your front. He brought a ringed finger up and traced down the valley of your breasts, eyes raking over you how a lion would a gazelle. His voice was low when he spoke again.

"Twenty minutes left."

"Huh?"

The sentence threw you off, your break no longer on your mind as you looked at him.

"You've got twenty minutes left before they start looking for you, so I've got time. You look delicious. I won't stop until I've tasted every bite."

Dark fiction taglist 

@whitetxilwxlf @kikijackson-blog @ben-c-group-therapy @ravennaortiz @mama-mischief

[tuesdayaddamss]

heavy metal lover, chibs telford

chapter i. 𝗲𝗹𝗲𝗽𝗵𝗮𝗻𝘁

summary: tatum and happy say goodbye, again.

warnings: angst, vulgarity, happy’s kind of a deadbeat.

authors note: it’s my first time, be gentle, i’m begging. divider isn’t mine!

word count: 3795

tatum traces the fabricated swell of maya’s lower lip with the brush, burying any minor imperfections under thin layers of crimson. the smell of cheap perfume and sex clings to the older woman’s skin, and if not for all the months she’s worked at caracara, and the consequential nose-blindness that she’s succumbed to, tatum would gag at the stench of cum, sweat, and vanilla.

she doesn’t have any problems with their career choices, it just isn’t what tatum had imagined she’d be doing. a makeup artist for pornstars, spending her days fixing all these gorgeous women’s faces after they ruined her work for a cumshot. but there’s only so many options in charming — you can either be on your back, on a harley, or where she is, it seems. the money’s okay, and the job was practically handed to her on a silver platter, so tatum can’t complain.

besides, college is expensive, and her rent is just as bad. if she wants to finish up her cosmetology courses so that she can work in a real salon one day, she has to pay her dues.

when maya’s lips are packed with enough lipstick to paint a house, tatum drags long fingers through her hair in hopes that she can revert it to its former, blown-out, glory.

“could you make my tits bigger? with, like, contour, or something?” she pipes up out of the blue, making tatum crinkle her nose. she’s already a double-d, she can’t begin to imagine why she wants any more than she’s got. and as far as she knows, there won’t be any boob-shots in her upcoming film anyways. maybe she’s hoping to win over kahlil, their new actor from new york that’s been flirting with her ceaselessly for the last week.

tatum thinks that if she hadn’t wormed her way into his speedo while they were doing that one scene in count trampula, then it’s a lost cause.

“you’ll probably just sweat it off,” she really would rather not be spending the last thirty minutes of her shift face-to-nipple with her. maya was one of her least favorites on set — second only to ima — just because she had an ego even bigger than the silicones in her chest.

there’s a heavy knock on the door frame. it was possibly the one thing saving her from having to grant maya’s wish, and yet, she fears that she’d rather do the DIY boob-job than have this conversation, even if it does need to happen.

she’d been expecting him to show sooner or later, after hearing that he and the sons were back in town from lyla this morning. but it didn’t fully prepare her to see him yet — his hulking form stuffing the entryway of her little space, his frown softening as their eyes meet.

as soon as maya sees him standing there, she’s all fluttering eyelashes and grinning like the cat that caught the canary. “happy! i’m so glad you’re back! i was so worried,”

to his credit, happy merely stares down at her. tatum’s pretty sure that he can’t recall ever meeting her at all, though maya likes to claim that she’s been in his bed several times. which is probably the actual reason tatum’s never been fond of her.

“get out.” he barks roughly, with no qualms about being impolite. tatum snorts, but the withering glare that the pornstar gives her is enough that she tries to hide her blatant amusement.

but even maya has enough sense to know it’d be a bad idea to piss happy lowman off when he’s clearly in a mood already. she’s out of her chair and slipping past him, but his agitation isn’t enough to thwart her too much. clad in only the lacy, red lingerie for her upcoming shoot, she presses against him deliberately as she passes, giving him a cheesy wink and a squeeze to his bicep. which he looks nearly murderous over. he never liked it when the croweaters and the caracara girls flirt with him in front of tatum — it was disrespectful, he said. tatum had to agree.

happy closes the door behind him, looking as weary as anyone could expect after his travels to belfast. tatum doesn’t know very much about what went down, only that jax teller’s son, abel, had been kidnapped and they’d had to go bring him home. and they had violated their probation in doing so — happy, tig, bobby, jax, juice, and clay. and that, she figures, is exactly why he’d come to see her.

she only knows what she needs to know in regards to the sons. she knows that one of the prospects was killed the same day that abel was taken, that gemma’s facing murder charges, and about the sons’ impending sentencing. some of it she heard from him, some through gossips and whispers.

“everything okay?” she asks slowly, sitting in the chair that maya had occupied. she watches him perch on the stool on another side of the room, moving her purse off of it to give himself room.

“yeah. yeah, the kid’s home. we’re whole.” he stares down at his hands as he speaks, and tatum finds herself following his gaze. it’d never been easy to meet happy’s eyes — not because he was intimidating, which he is, but because it felt like whiplash each time. so she settles for his hands; the new bruises on his knuckles, the faded tattoos.

she’s glad to hear it. she’s not exactly their typical club brat, and she’d never been too close to them, like she probably should be, but she cares for them in the way that they care for her. obligatory. she can trust them with her life, but maybe not with her heart. they don’t know her, and she doesn’t really know them, but they all know him and love him, and that’s enough.

“they’re giving us three years. but we’ll be out in fourteen months if we can keep our noses clean.” happy won’t beat around the bush, he never does. he once told her that all sugar-coating does is give you a fuckin’ toothache. and he doesn’t lie to her, either. he says that she’s too old for that, that she deserves the truth. sometimes, she wishes he would.

tatum feels like she’d just swallowed sand. there’s no reason for it to hurt how it does, really. she’d gone ten years without seeing him, or even hearing from him. and they’re not exactly close. she sees him around, he checks up on her, they ignore the elephant that follows them into every room. still, she thinks she’ll miss him. she spent her entire life missing him.

“that’s not so bad.” she tries, picking at her freshly painted nails, watching black flakes fall to her denim-clad thighs. she wonders what this means for the club. with six sons in lockup, the president included, the table will be nearly empty. she’s familiar enough with club laws to know that that won’t bode well for samcro.

he nods, lifting a hand to rub over his head just long enough for tatum to get a glimpse of the tattoo on the underside of his bicep. her name, in swirling cursive, imbedded in his skin. it’s faded, now, after twenty years there. that elephant trumpets.

“chibs is gonna hang around, keep his eye on you, while i’m gone.”

she has to bite back a scoff. it’s nothing to do with chibs telford, who’s always kind to her, rather the idea that she needs anyone to keep an eye on her. as if she was still a child. she knows what he means by it, that he’s only trying to keep her safe, but it still irks her. it’s how he words it. he’s not good with words at all, really. her mom calls him a man of action.

happy catches the sour frown on her face before she can say a word. “don’t start on me, tatum.” she doesn’t flinch, but almost.

happy lowman’s a beast of a man. tall as a house, and built like a grizzly, with a gleam in his eye that could make the devil quiver. six feet and three inches of muscle and ink and scar tissue. he’d earned his reputation the hard way, too. but he had never been cruel to her. he’d never raised his hand to her, and rarely even his voice. it’s just him. something about a father’s anger instills a bone-deep, archaic fear in every daughter.

he sighs, catching the brief recoil, and she can see the guilt that threatens to swallow him whole. “he’s just looking out for you. it ain’t like that.” he says, far softer this time.

“okay.” she concedes, because this isn’t a battle she’s going to choose. if it’ll comfort him, knowing that one of his brothers had her back, she can give him that. it’s all she has to offer him. “chibs will be around. got it.”

he nods, seeming almost grateful, then he reaches for her purse, which he’d set on a side table before. she frowns as he pulls a thick envelope from the pocket of his kutte and shoves it in the bag. “i don’t need your money,” she does, but she doesn’t want it.

“i know.” he retorts, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “you don’t gotta spend it. i just want you to have it, in case.”

tatum’s sure that he’d fund her entire life if she’d let him. money is how happy tries to make up for everything he’d failed to do as a father — and that’s why she rarely takes it. the only help she’d accepted from him is this job.

since samcro owns caracara, with luanne delaney, tatum’s boss, happy had offered her a position here whilst she’s working on her license. under the table, of course. it’s not something he’s thrilled about, his only child working in a porn studio, but he had wanted to help her along somehow, and it meant that she could pay her bills on time and still maintain her independence. and it isn’t like she’s on camera. so he allowed it, and tatum is grateful for that.

whatever’s in the envelope will still be in it when he’s released. she’s going to hand it back to him as soon as she’s able. but if it helps him sleep at night, so be it. it can sit in her safe for the next fourteen months.

“do me a favor,” his tone becomes somber enough to garner her attention, her brows pulling down as she looks at him. “go visit your grandma more often. she’s not feelin’ real good lately,”

tatum softens at the mention of his mother, her grandmother, maria. there’s no one on god’s green earth that tatum loves like she loves her. the woman was a saint, nothing like her manic, dangerous son. but all that was good in happy, had come from maria. for a long time, she’d been the only tie that tatum had to her father.

the thought of her condition makes her wilt — for years, maria had been battling stage four pancreatic cancer. she’s the strongest woman tatum knows, but not even she will be able to fight forever. how can one win a battle against one’s own body? they can’t.

“yeah. yeah, i will.” she promises, and she means it. she used to travel to bakersfield twice a month, to go see maria, and elena, tatum’s great-aunt. but it’s been hard to do so lately, in between college and her work. but she’ll make time. somehow, she’ll do it.

this is goodbye, she knows. the best she’ll get from him. happy’s never been good at sentimentality or the like, and all of tatum’s usual eloquence seems to evaporate near him, like she’s six years old again and had forgotten how to pronounce the word dad. her mom once told her that she was more like him than she realized, that the lowman genes were as strong as hundred year old whiskey. she, like him, forgets how to say what she’s feeling without baring her teeth and snarling.

she wonders if happy inherited it from his father, too. she knows that he didn't get it from maria.

“c’mere.” they’d never been too outwardly affectionate. tatum was raised associating love with touch; her mom kissing her head in passing, her stepfather ruffling her hair, neighbors hugging her when they crossed paths. happy’s love was measured in how safe he could keep her; teaching her how to shoot, upgrading the locks on her door, making sure her car was always in tip-top shape. a man of action.

he doesn’t embrace her often, but he does today. as soon as she rises from her chair, he wraps his arms around her, holding her close to his chest as his chin docks on her head. it’s so foreign that it’s almost anxiety inducing, for a moment, but she somehow finds it within herself to accept it. it’s easier than she’d thought it would be. he smells like leather and old spice, and the beat of his heart doesn’t falter, even once. he runs warm, like she does, and she can feel the patches on his kutte pressed to her cheek.

sons of anarchy. redwood originals. unholy ones. men of mayhem. he’s worn the kutte for longer than she’s been alive. he’ll wear it to the grave one day, too. he’ll always be a son first, and a father second.

“you need anything, you call chibs, a’right? he’ll answer.” he squeezes her tighter for a moment, and there’s something weighty in his tone. usually, whatever happy’s feeling hides behind a barbed-wire fence. you had to bleed to unveil it. but now, the spikes on top seem duller.

“i will,” tatum promises, even though she’s not sure she totally understands. does she call him when she’s too drunk to get home by herself, or only if someone holds a gun to her skull? either way, she’s sure that he would come. that’s what the sons do, look out for each other — and by extension, for her.

“anything.” he reiterates, as if he can hear her thoughts. sometimes she fears that he can.

this is the longest he’s ever hugged her, at least that she can remember. as if he was going to the grave, and not just prison. she wonders if abel’s kidnapping had brought on some sort of epiphany — seeing one of his brothers lose their kid, if it made happy miss his.

he won’t ask tatum to visit him, or anything like that, because he doesn’t think that she owes it to him. and she really doesn’t, but she still says, “call me, yeah?” because he does owe it to her, and she dreads to go another year without hearing from her dad.

he sighs against her hair, and it’s relieved. as if she’d just reassured him that she still loves him, in some way. that she had yet to come to her senses. “yeah, kiddo. i will.”

an invisible, clawed hand squeezes at her heart when they part. the child within her’s still starving for a love that only happy can give.

“you done for the day?” he asks, glancing at the clock on the wall, watching the hand tick towards nine-thirty.

she really should clean up — pack up the makeup and hair tools, sweep the floors, disinfect the chair so that no one catches whatever STD maya probably has — and it’d do her well to milk the clock a little bit, but their painfully short conversation had drained her. she just wants to get home and wallow in her leftover orange chicken.

when she nods, he hands her purse to her and flicks the light switch. “i’ll walk you out, then.”

that walk from the studio to the parking lot, where tatum’s rusted camry waits, feels a lot like heading for the gallows. at least to happy. leaving her never gets any easier, despite how many times he’s had to do so.

he knows that she’ll be okay, because she always is, she’s never needed him. but he still worries — of course he does, because she has his nose and his scowl and that’s practically a target plastered smack-dab in the middle of her forehead.

and he fears that one of these times, she’ll stop welcoming him back. not that he’d be able to blame her. she’s far more forgiving than she ought to be, something she’d got from her mother, but even she won’t make excuses for him forever.

“stay safe,” he implores, frowning when he hears an unpleasant rattling from her car’s engine. he’ll have chibs take a look at it for her, since he won’t have the time to before he’s hauled away.

chibs will take care of her. he won’t let her get hurt, he’d promised happy such. but it isn’t enough. it was bad enough when she was still living on the reservation, when he couldn’t be there to keep her safe. but this is charming, a breeding ground for cruelty and strife. she’s in the thick of it now, and happy won't be here to protect her himself. and with everything going sour for his club lately, so much could go wrong.

she’d grown to be a brilliant woman, that’s not lost on him. she’s clever, bold, slippery — and he’s proud of her. but his world has never been hers. she doesn’t know how it works, the danger his flesh and blood puts her in. it’s his fault, because he’d left. he’d never taught her what it meant to be in this life. to be born into it. happy can only hope that he had not damned his tatum while he was trying to save her.

“you too,” she murmurs, her smile wobbly. she looks so much like her mother. she’d inherited carmen’s dimples, her long hair, the arch of her brow. the same indian tan, and golden heart. carmen james was the best of women, happy had always known that she’d do better by their daughter than he could ever have hoped to. “try not to kill anybody.”

she’s only joking, he thinks, but there’s an underlying truth to it. she’s a smart girl, his tatum, she knows more than she’s told. “no promises,” he retorts with a slight grin, and there’s a little truth to that, too.

“love you, kid.” those words feel foreign on his tongue, as if speaking a language he’d never learned. he never said it as often as she deserved to hear it, but he hopes that she still knows.

she blinks hard, as if he’d hit her, with one hand on the wheel as she turns to look at him through the open window. he can’t tell if her moment of silence is hesitation, or if it’s something else entirely. “i love you too, dad.”

out of all the things he’d been called in his life — a son, enforcer, maniac, the tacoma killer — that was one he’d never deserved. your dad was the man that raised you, that scared away the monsters under your bed and ran off your highschool boyfriends. he had never had a dad, and neither had she.

he watches her little blue car turn a corner and disappear, his throat itching. he knows that there’s not enough time to be wasted wallowing in guilt, he’ll have plenty of that over the next fourteen months, but it takes him a moment to compose himself. happy had never been an emotional man, not as a child and certainly not as an adult, but if there was anything in the world that could tug at his frayed heart strings, it’s his kid.

when he’d found out carmen — who’d only been a warm body in his bed, even though he always thought her to be lovely — was pregnant, he’d been repulsed. he’s not too proud of it, but it’s the truth. he didn’t have what it took to be a father, let alone a dad, and he’d known it even then. but he stuck around anyways, because gemma and his ma threatened to castrate him if he didn’t. he’s grateful for them now, because if not for their fierce belief in family, he would’ve never known what a beautiful thing could spawn from a man like him. he may have missed most of her life, he may not win an award for his parenting, but she’s still his.

he’d spent ten years watching her grow up from a distance, and the last seven trying to reconcile whatever relationship they still had. this feels like a momentous step back — like throwing away the measly progress they’d made. so much could change in just a year. and his tatum is a master of fluidity, a chameleon, as his ma calls her, never stays the same long enough to count. she might be a different person next time they meet. he wonders if she’ll allow him the privilege of knowing who.

his pre-paid ringing is what draws him out of his thoughts, his hand grabbing to fish the obnoxious thing out of his pants’ back pocket. “yeah?” he huffs out, swinging one leg over his bike and settling into the seat.

“hey, brother,” it’s chibs’s scottish brogue that greets him, and the man sounds just as exhausted as happy feels. “clay needs us in the chapel in an hour. tried tellin’ him you were wit’ your lass, but he wants you here.”

“nah, it’s good. i’m done anyways, on my way back.” as much as he’d like to hit the sheets for the night, there’s no rest for the wicked, and there’s still plenty to do, with very little time to get them done before the boys in blue come knocking.

chibs hums on the other end, and he could hear the front door open, the clamor of the clubhouse fading to silence. “everythin’ go well? she take it okay?”

happy’s grateful for chibs, who had vowed to look after tatum, who’s always been the kindest of the sons. chibs, who can maybe understand his internal battle with his own fatherhood better than anyone else. “yeah. fine.” he knows that he’s asking out of real care, love for a brother, but tatum’s not an easy subject to breach for happy. “it’s tate. she’ll be fine.”

“aye. she will be.” it sounds like a promise, and it probably is one. chibs telford is a man of his word. “we’ll make sure o’ it. get back soon.”

with a gruff agreement, the line goes dead — and he’s on his way back home, before he can waste anymore time on what could be, will be, and might’ve been.

authors note: chibs is actually in the next one, i swear! comments + opinions are vv much appreciated 🫶🏻

[thisreadswhatever]

To Keep Me Safe From You: Part One

find my masterlist here

[description]: jax teller x fem!reader

[wordcount]: 3.1k+

[summary]: after overhearing a conversation that could be detrimental to the future of samcro, the club has voted that you have to die. fortunately for you, jax has to complete the kill.

[cw]: 18+, female reader(y/n), swearing, mentions of murder throughout, knives, smut, cliff hanger, possible grammar/spelling errors, generally following the show but slightly AU

[authors note]: so this one shot turned into something more and will be getting a part two as i'm not done with this scenario. i realised during this just how hard it is for me to write in a way where i don’t want jax to come tape me up and murder me... so sometimes the reader (y/n) makes some really questionable decisions, simply because i would let this man get away with anything. i hope you enjoy it :)

“We really talking about offing a chick right now?” Juice stared at his fellow members with wide eyes.

“She heard everything, Juice.” Even though he was whispering, Tig’s panic was loud and clear. “You wanna be the one to risk prison time over some waitress in a diner?”

Jax slammed his hand on the table, “We. Don’t. Kill. Women.” 

Bobby looked around at the eyes now peering towards their table before shaking his head at Jax in disapproval, “We also don’t talk about club business outside of Chapel, for this exact reason.”

Tig doubled down now he knew Bobby agreed. “She heard too much. I saw it in her eyes, Jax. I can handle the hit. I’ll follow her out back, it’ll look like she was mugged. No witnesses. No trace.” 

“Do you hear yourself right now brother? We don’t even know if she heard-” Juice stopped abruptly as he saw you walking over to their table, bill in hand. You smiled at the blonde haired man sitting at the end of the bench, avoiding the 5 other guys glaring at you. “Is there anything else I can help you guys with today?” He grinned back at you, taking the bill from your hand, “I think we’re all done here.” He placed three twenty dollar bills inside the wallet, a very generous tip, before handing it back to you. “Thanks for stopping by, boys. Get home safe.” 

“You too, darlin.’”

Jax watched you walk away, making sure you were out of range before addressing the other members. “See? She heard nothing. That ain’t no witness that’s going to talk to feds. She’s not even spooked.”

Tig scoffed and Bobby lowered his eyes at Jax, “Maybe we should take a vote, Pres.?”

Jax was really pissed now, even contemplating killing a woman made his blood boil. But Bobby was his VP, and he was right, this wasn’t a decision he could make himself. Jax let out a large exhale, glancing at you as you cleaned the last remaining tables. He leaned into the table, “Fine, we vote. All in favor of murdering the poor innocent diner chick. I’ll start. Nay.”

He was the only one who voted so. Juice had almost sided with him, but everything Tig had said persuaded him to change his vote. Tig had panicked the rest of the members into actually killing a woman. Jax was outnumbered, and there was nothing more he could do. While you were finishing your night shift, the Sons of Anarchy had just sentenced you to die. 

Jax had managed to get Tig to back off, reluctantly agreeing to let him carry out the hit instead. He figured at least he could kill you quickly, saving you from Tig’s twisted methods. The other members had left, leaving him the only 4 seater vehicle they had brought out that evening. Although you didn’t know it, Jax was waiting for you across the parking lot, leaning against the hood of Piney’s car, cigarette in hand. You shut the door to the diner behind you, fumbling with your purse to find your car keys. You were too preoccupied with the broken zipper on your bag to realise the same blonde haired man from earlier was still there, and approaching you. 

“Lost somethin’ darlin’?” 

“Shit-”, his voice startled you, causing you to drop your purse and everything in it across the lot. 

“Fuck, sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.” He helped as you collected the strung out items across the tarmac. “You didn’t mean to scare a girl leaving work on her own in the pitch black at this time of night?” You snapped at him as you searched for your belongings along some hedges. Jax handed you a tube of lipstick and your reading glasses, that had somehow survived the fall. 

“I guess I didn’t think that one through. Sorry about that.” He stood up, extending a hand to help you. You barely acknowledged as he spoke, ignoring his hand, as you were desperately scanning the floor. 

“Well you’re gonna be really sorry. You have to drive me home. My keys aren’t here..” 

 “Fuck- you cant find them?” He dropped to his knees again, searching the ground with you. You could barely see in the carpark, you had no chance of finding them until daylight. 

“No, they’re gone. What the fuck am I gonna do now?” 

Jax stood up, pacing the length of the car park still searching for your keys. “They gotta be here somewhere.”

“This is useless. Can you just take me home?” 

Jax smiled, “least I can do darlin’.” He extended a hand to help you up from the ground again, but this time, you took it. 

He started walking towards his car, holding a pack of cigarettes out at you. You didn’t smoke, but you also didn’t usually get into cars with strangers, either. You weren’t sure what had come over you, and you felt wary about the whole thing, but you didn’t have many options left with no car keys, and he seemed nice enough. You followed him to the car, taking a cigarette from the pack and holding it up to your mouth as he lit it for you. “I don’t even know your name and I’m about to get in a car with you.” He chuckled. “Names Jax Teller. And I can assure you, I’m a normal guy, just ignore the kutte.”

“Okay then.. Jax. You gonna tell me why a normal guy such as yourself is waiting for a girl outside her place of work at almost midnight?” 

He held the car door open for you with a reassuring smile, “I’ll explain on the way home.” 

You looked at him through narrowed eyes, “you better get me home in one piece.” You got in the car, flicking the half smoked cigarette on the floor as Jax shut the door behind you. 

The inside of the SUV was a mess, the dash covered in raunchy magazines and parking fines. It was hard to think about anything other than the stench of dry oil and stale cigarettes. Jax began to drive, and you directed him on the way to your house, although you got the feeling he didn’t need your help anyway. 

“I can get one of the guys to come change the locks on your car tomorrow morning. Get you a new set of keys.”

“That’d be great. You guys locksmith’s or something?” 

Jax grinned, one hand on the steering wheel, glancing between you and the road as he drove. “Something like that. We run an auto repair shop out in Charming.”

“Oh. So is this your thing?” 

Jax looks at you puzzled, “my thing?”

“Getting girls keys lost so you have to give them a ride home?” Jax shook his head, amused by your assumption. “You’re actually the first.” 

Watching him while he drove gave you the chance to study him in fine detail. You’d noticed his good looks earlier at the diner, but now you could see Jax looked like he belonged in a hollywood movie. He held the steering wheel with one hand, the other on the gear stick, his fingers draped in silver rings. His beard was coated in a layer of stubble, with long shaggy blonde hair that tucked behind his ears. He was undeniably attractive. If anyone was going to lose your car keys, forcing you to drive with them for a ride home, you were glad it was him. 

He turned on your drive slowly before parking, reaching into the glove box adjacent to you. He searched the compartment, and a load of CD’s fell to your feet. “Shit sorry. There’s no pens in here. You got anything in that bag you can use to write your number down? You know, for the keys.” 

“I could grab a pen from inside.” 

Jax nodded in response, “I’ll walk you to your door.” 

Before you had the chance to say anything, Jax was out of the car and making his way to the passenger side door to open it for you. It was all a little surreal, you’d only met him a few hours before, yet he had shown you more courtesy than any man you’d previously encountered. 

You walked with him to the front porch, then searching under the mat for the spare house key. You thought to yourself how you’d have to find a new hiding spot for it tomorrow. You unlocked the front door. As you walked in, switching the lights on as you entered the kitchen, you knew Jax was standing at the door, patiently waiting. You hesitated for a second, debating on the idea of having this random stranger enter your house. On one hand, you knew it was the dumbest idea you’d ever had. On the other, he was charming, respectful and like nobody else you’d ever met before. And you knew that after tonight, you’d probably never see him again. “You can come in if you want, I’ll just be a sec’.”

Jax stepped through the doorway, looking around as he followed you to the kitchen, “nice place you got here.” You searched the ‘drawer of everything’ in the kitchen to find an old receipt and pen. “It was my best friend’s house before she went back to Washington. She’s letting me stay here while I save for my own place. I get cheap rent, she gets a free house sitter.” Jax was standing behind you, making you overtly aware of how close he was. “Y/N.” He was reading from the receipt over your shoulder as you wrote down the number to your home phone. “I never did catch your name at the diner. It’s pretty.” You handed him the crumpled up paper, and he placed it in his pocket. 

“And you never answered my question.” You turned to face him as you spoke, to find the beautiful blonde stranger holding a large blade against your stomach. “Living room. Now.” 

You froze in fear, unable to move. You realised you’d made a huge mistake. You had known the risk of letting him in. You knew better. And now it was too late. You pushed through the lump in your throat to get words out, “Just take what you want and leave. It’s all yours.” “I don’t want your shit, y/n. Walk. Now.” You did as he said, walking slowly towards the living room, feeling the cold blade now pressed against your back. “What do you want?” He pulled your arm back with his free hand, stopping you in the living room. He gestured toward the armchair that sat between the TV and couch. “Sit down.” 

“What are you doing, Jax?” You didn’t want to sit, you wanted to run. You wanted to buy yourself some time. 

“I said sit down!” Jax’s voice cracked as he yelled at you. Hearing him yell sent a shiver down your spine, and you snapped into the chair in front of him immediately. You could see his face now. His eyes were vacant, completely shifted from the warm, courteous man you’d thought he was when he entered your home. It seemed he’d grown 10 feet taller now, towering over you while you sat frozen and vulnerable in the chair beneath him. He brought himself down to your level, with the knife now at your side, the blade touching your arm. 

“You wanted an answer to your question?” 

You nodded. 

“I waited for you because I have to kill you.” 

“To kill me?” Nothing was making any sense. “To kill me..” You repeated, looking straight into his eyes, “but you don’t even know me.” Jax placed the knife into the sheath, and back onto his belt pocket before pulling a roll of duct tape from his kutte. You recognised the tape from the drawer you had searched earlier, but that couldn’t be possible, you told yourself. You never saw him take it. 

“You heard some stuff tonight that could ruin lives. And there’s a group of outlaws that want you dead now because of it.” 

His words rang in your ears like sirens, putting all your senses into override. You couldn’t catch your breath before Jax was binding your hands together in front of you so tightly you could see the skin pulling under the tape. “And you want me dead too?” 

Jax paused to look at you, matching your eyes, before looking down, continuing to tape your hands. “Doesn’t matter what I want.” 

Nothing made sense. You hadn’t heard anything they talked about. He had totally got the wrong idea, and if you could just explain it, he could understand. 

“Jax, please listen to me. I didn’t hear anything. I don’t even know what you’re talking about!” 

He closed his eyes as you pleaded with him, “Stop. Talking.” 

You pulled your wrists up, trying to touch him with your fingertips, as if that could reach the kind part of him you thought you had seen. Your bound hands pulled at his shirt as you begged. 

“I didn’t hear a thing! If I heard some fucked up shit why would I get in a car with you? Why the fuck would I let you in my house!” You felt faint, your ears beginning to ring as adrenalin circulated your veins. He tried to ignore you, and started to tape your legs. You wanted to think straight, to talk sense into him, but your eyes began to fill with water, tears unwillingly streaming down your cheek. “I didn’t hear anything,” you sobbed, “I’m not lying to you.”

Jax dropped the roll of tape on the floor. His hands covered his face as he rubbed his eyes, the words “jesus christ”, muttered through his teeth. Suddenly he stood up, pacing to the kitchen. You couldn’t see him, but you could hear the flicking of a lighter. You sat there, bound by tape, in silence, afraid if you said anymore he would come back to finish you off. 

Some time had passed. Jax had paced the kitchen before venturing into your bedroom. You’d spent the last few hours weighing your options. You could try to run, but you wouldn’t get anywhere with your hands and legs bound together. If you could get to the phone in the kitchen you could call the cops, but he’d see you before you could even dial the numbers. You weren’t sure how long you sat there, trying to think of anything that may save you. Your planning was halted when you heard footsteps coming from the bedroom. Jax lowered himself down to you, pulling the knife from the sheath. He pointed it towards you, and you braced yourself, knowing any plan you could make was too late. You closed your eyes, awaiting your fate, when you heard the sound of tape ripping and your hands were released from the bind. You didn’t move a muscle. Jax’s eyes smoldered. “I’m not going to kill you.”

You pulled the tape from your wrists, stinging as you peeled back the residue from your skin. “You’re not?” “I can’t kill a woman. And even if I could, I can’t kill you.” He cut the tape binding your feet. You gulped, still sat in the chair as if the tape had never been cut in the first place. You could run now, you should run now, but you didn’t want to. 

“What about the outlaws?” your voice was almost a whisper. 

“I’ll handle them.” You watched as he began to walk towards the front door. “I’m really sorry for all of this, y/n. I just couldn’t do it.” His face was full of shame, his voice clouded in regret.

You didn’t have time to contemplate before you yelled, “wait!”

Jax stopped in the kitchen, “What?” 

“You can’t just go.” You leaned into your knees to stand from the chair, legs stiff from being in the same position all night. As you stood you stretched your legs creating instant relief as you walked towards him. Your mind yearned for the same relief your body had, but now you were just really fucking angry. “You bring me here, tell me I’m going to die, tape me up and then decide you’re not going to murder me anymore. Now you want to just leave? And pretend this never happened?” 

“I can’t stay.” He sounded guilty, and his lack of eye contact was further proof of this. 

“Why the hell not?”  You were standing arms length apart, looking up at the man who was tasked with your murder, yet now you were pleading with him to stay. “What are you even talking about, Jax?” You tried to step closer to him, but he inched back. 

“If I’m not killing you, I need to stop whoever is going to instead.” 

You didn’t respond, as you were still trying to understand why you needed to be saved at all. 

Jax softened, “I know you’re confused but this is the only way I can keep you safe.” 

“To keep me safe from you.” 

He took a deep breath, taking your face in his hands. His blue eyes had melted, any anxiety he had been wrestling with tonight had passed.

After everything that had happened, somehow, here, in this man’s presence, you felt safe. You now knew he wouldn’t hurt you. He held you there in his hands, searching your face, looking for a different way out. Something in that moment shifted, the air around you moved as if it were wrapping you in string, tying you to Jax, bringing you closer together. He leaned into you, kissing you on the head, seemingly like the beginning of a goodbye. But he didn’t speak, and no goodbyes came. Instead he placed his forehead along yours, breathing you in along with whatever thoughts plagued his mind. You didn’t understand how or why this was happening, and you got the idea that Jax didn’t know either. Before you could make sense of it, he took you into his hands and kissed you. He pulled your face tight to his, securing you to him by the grip his fingers had through your hair. The tension between you was palpable, every movement of his tongue against yours was fierce and urgent.

His hands released and lowered to your waist, pushing you into the open island in your kitchen as you stumbled backwards on your feet. The cold countertop was pressing against the back of your jeans, contrasted to the warmth of his mouth on yours, his hands now tugging at your waist band. 

He lifted his hand back to your face, feeling your lips beneath his thumb before sliding it down your neck. The corners of his mouth stretched into a smile as he kissed you. 

“I knew there was a reason I couldn’t kill you.”

His tongue lapped against yours, gentle and kind with every touch yet urgent with his hands on you. Groans fell from your throat in response.

You had feared this man all night, and now you were drunk from his lips, and utterly desperate for more.

———

part two

let me know if you want to be tagged in part 2 :)

find my masterlist here

[marleyelona]

Made a couple edit for Juice Ortiz x Letty Morrow (my oc) — based on the song Too Sweet. Link to my Juice fanfiction: Ride or Die.

[ravennaortiz]

We are 5 days away from Juicy January! Right now I have 16 stories hanging out in the drafts as well as 10 request! Want to get a request in? Click here

Want to be tagged? Let me know!

[spaghettificationandpretzels]

(Sorry for the late submission 😭) but I would LOVE #8 with the one and only Ms. Lyla Winston!

Masterlist

Toffee and Rum Raisin

Contains: Fluff

1.0K words

Money can't buy happiness, but it can buy Ice cream and that’s basically the same thing.' - Unknown

"What are you going here?"

You sighed, "It's so hot, the AC at went died and I know for sure it would still be running here."

Lyla chuckled, "It is. I'm editing so I could use the company anyway."

She walked you through the set and into the editing studio before waving at the couch for you to sit, "What's on the agenda today?"

Lyla smiled, "Custom video, a guy who's really into cake and sprinkles. No nudity so I don't get to see you all flustered."

You shook your head, "Hey, the only T and A I want to see is yours. It's different for you because it's your job, our roads are paved because of your excellent production skills."

Lyla shot you a look, "You're laying it on thick, what do you want?"

You shook your head, "I told you what I wanted, I want to hang in the cool with you."

Lyla tapped the seat next to her, "Well come and make yourself useful and help me. I'll show you how to edit the sound so the background noise is gone."

You huffed, "I thought I was helping by sitting here and looking pretty." Nevertheless, you did as she asked and sat beside her.

Lyla moved in close enough that your arms touched as she showed you how to isolate the audio for the film, it seemed easy enough and after twenty minutes of you asking every question you could think of, you were well on your way to helping her get the video up, "I'm surprised you trust me with this."

She smiled, "I keep telling you that you should come and work with me, you'd be good at this."

You shook your head, "I love my job." You paused, "But if it wasn't there I would be here in a heartbeat."

"That's good to know. How are you doing over there?" You noticed she had stopped taking glances at your screen after a while.

You pointed at the progress bar, "I'm further along than you. I've got a few more things to remove here before I go onto the next scene."

Lyla sighed, "Wow you're fast, are you sure you haven't done this before?"

You nodded, "Yep, positive. I just have a great teacher."

Lyla leaned over and pecked your cheek, "You're too sweet to me."

****

One video turned into two, which turned into six and by the time the sun was setting, you and Lyla had gotten enough done that she could take the weekend off, "I'm impressed, you're really good at that."

You sighed, "I did enjoy it." She opened her mouth to speak but you stopped her, "But I'm going back to my day job, if I have to listen to the same lines over and over again, day in and day out, I will go nuts.

Lyla smiled, "Ok them, what do you want to do?"

You tapped your pocket, "I have ten bucks in my pocket and a craving for ice cream, you wanna come with?"

She nodded, "Hell yeah."

You hopped in her car and she drove you to the park where they had the best ice cream stand in all of Charming, with its blue and white pinstripes and big twisty ice cream cone sign. You could hear the milk bar music from the speakers as you walked closer. There was a flash of little legs and blond hair as a child ran up to you, "Auntie, auntie, are you here for the picnic?"

You could see Jax and his wife waving from the distance and Abel pointed over to the stand, "Can we get ice cream?"

Lyla shook her head and pointed to his shirt, "I think I can already see some chocolate ice cream on your shirt, little man, I don't think your mummy and daddy would like it if you had any more."

Abel seemed unfazed, "Ok, but are you here for the picnic?"

You sighed, "Well, Auntie Lyla and I are going to get ourselves some ice cream and them we'll see if we have time, is that alright?"

He nodded, "Yes ok." With that, he was off again, running back towards his mother and father on the grass.

You chuckled, "He is such a cute kid."

"I know right." She nodded towards the stand, "What do you want my dear?"

"The usual, Toffee in a cup with caramel sauce and chocolate shavings." You took her hand with a smile, "I think I know what you're going to get."

She rolled her eyes lovingly, "Yeah, and what is that?"

You held back a smile, "Rum and raisin because you're a little old man inside."

Lyla elbowed your rib, "I am not an old man, it just tastes good."

You walked up to the stand hand in hand and ordered before sitting down at the picnic tables, "We're going to have to go over there and sit with Jax for a while."

You sighed, "I know, it's just we see them every day. It would be nice to have some time to ourselves."

Lyla chuckled, "It will hurt his little feelings. Plus, we're Abel's favourite aunts anyway and I don't want to lose my spot."

"Alright." You pointed to her ice cream, "It looks so boring, you didn't even get toppings."

She blinked and took her spoon before taking some from the scoop and holding it in front of your face, "Just try some."

You gave it a sniff, the cold dessert giving only sweetness then leaned in and ate it, "So?"

You shook your head, "Nope, it tastes like creamy rum. If I wanted to relive my twenties I do it in style and drink whiskey."

Lyla huffed, "I find it hard to believe you got drunk in your twenties."

You held back a giggle, "Hey, there were many nights where I was three sheets to the wind singing the backstreet boys out of a car window."

"I bet that was a sight to see." There was such fondness in her eyes, "Jax is waving us over, we better go and say hello."

You nodded, "Alright, but when we got home, I digging up some photos I have of me on Bourbon Street on mardi gras. You'll see, I was wild."

Lyla grinned, "I can't wait."

Fin

[ivoryrebellionmess]

Spooky remorses

Summary: You dated Jax for a year and a half, it was great. You fought sure, but that's a given if you´re both stubborn (and he's constantly in danger). Gemma didn't like the relationship, and she made sure that it ended. Now, months after the breakup, your friend takes you to a Halloween party that just happens to be SAMCRO´s.

warnings: 18+, mdni

A/N: Heyyy :) this is my first time writing anything so I hope it's not too bad. english is not my first language so please tell me if there are any mistakes. i just saw an edit and this kind of popped into my head. there´s no physical description of the reader, no y/n. the ter trashy pop is used, but in a good way, i love trashy pop

this is not the whole thing, just a little taste to take the edge off of uploading the whole fic. hope you like it <3

pd: i bet you can tell i´ve never smoked lol

tw: foul language, kinda hooking up with your ex, jealous jax, smoking,a little bit of spice, alcohol, gemma being mean

Word count: 1994

You heard her before you saw her, your head buried in paperwork, 

¨No one told me in college that nurses had to do this much paperwork¨ Hazel laughed. 

She was new in Charming, looking for a quieter life than the one she had in San Francisco. You had almost laughed at the irony when she first told you, the Sons present in your mind. One Son specifically. How you managed to avoid him considering the amount of hospital visits they made was almost a miracle. 

You had to change your mechanic, that's true, a minor inconvenience. 

Hazel knew about the guy you had just broken up with when she started working with you, but you had, of course, not told her he was none other than the VP of the motorcycle club. There were parts of that story that raised difficult questions. So the official version was that you had a relationship and that it ended because he was kind of a mama's boy, which was not a lie. The truth? Gemma didn't like you and she did everything she could to get rid of you. She succeeded of course.

As you looked up from the files, your greeting was her mischievous smile. ¨Oh no, what is it?¨. 

Hazel leaned in on the table, looking over her shoulder ¨Sooo, you wanted to go dancing on Halloween, but all the good parties are sold out right?¨

You hummed as you got closer to her, ¨Sure, been sold out weeks¨

¨What if I told you I got us invited to a private party?¨ She looked so proud of herself, smiling like she just won the lottery. 

The head nurse approached you, shaking her head but not mad, ¨Last time I checked your, job description said nothing about gossiping, ladies¨

With that, Hazel got back to her rounds, and you got back to your paperwork; the party still on the back of your mind. 

When it was finally time to clock out, Hazel and you decided you´d get ready at her place that Friday before going to the party; and you got in your car and drove to a costume shop. You'd thought of just buying fake blood and splashing it on some scrubs you didn't use anymore, but as you entered a beautiful mannequin dressed as a vampire gave you another idea. You had a dress that you hadn't had a chance to wear yet, well, this was it. 

The cashier joked as you paid for a gothic looking choker and fake fangs ¨Last minute buy huh?¨; you nodded, laughing along with her.

On Friday morning, you packed a bag with the outfit and makeup you would need to get ready and left for the hospital. The hours seemed to tick by specially slow: making your rounds, filling up paperwork, changing dressings, administering medication, over and over.  During lunchtime one of your friends wanted to know which party you were going to, and that's when you realized you didn't know. 

¨I´ve been so excited with the idea of going I did not even wonder…and Hazel´s been so busy, we have barely talked¨ 

At last you got to Hazel's place, opened up a couple of beers and started getting ready, trashy pop blasting from the radio. While the glue in the fake fangs dried off, a question escaped your lips ¨So, what's the story with this party?¨. 

The image of your fingers stuck in your mouth, holding the fangs in place was guilty for a fit of laughter being all you got for an answer. Hazel´s cackles were very contagious, even more so after a couple of beers. 

She sat down to do her makeup, ready to answer your question ¨My car broke down right? Anette from the pediatric wing said she knew the best mechanics in town¨ Your face went white at that, fearing the worst ¨so I went there, and the hottest guy comes up to me and starts asking about the car¨ she turned to face you ¨when I say hot I don't think you understand, I mean very hot¨ a sick feeling to your stomach made you think that was probably Jax, charming a beautiful girl into a party, and then his bed, Hazel was too deep in the story to notice your change in demeanor ¨he was funny as hell and he had these tats in his head, you should have seen him¨. 

You finally felt like you could breathe a little better, so you interrupted ¨So you got us invited to SAMCRO´s party?¨ That was when Hazel noticed you were sitting on her bed, your face serious, and she assumed she knew why ¨Listen honey, I know they're supposed to be dangerous or whatever, but it's just a party, nothing bad will happen¨. 

As she sat down next to you, you grabbed her hand ¨Remember my ex?¨ she blinked at that, not the answer she was expecting ¨Yeah, the one you never talk about¨. You breathed in deeply  ¨I never talk about him because he's the VP of the Sons, and there are many things I can't tell you¨. 

A heavy silence fell between you two, and you could see disappointment in her eyes. 

You knew you shouldn't, you had been avoiding him for a reason, but you couldn't help yourself, Hazel had been looking forward to the party, and so had you, if you were being honest. 

You got up and grabbed the dark red lipstick ¨So, now that we both have all the information, let's finish here¨, before Hazel even finished opening her mouth you continued ¨We're already half dressed, Juice will be waiting for you. I have to see Jax again eventually, I can't avoid him forever¨. 

With that, you sat down and finished doing your makeup ¨Come on Hazel, we don't have the whole night¨. She gave you a grateful smile.

A little after, you admired the both of you in the mirror: Hazel had a beautiful purple witch costume, and you were wearing a garnet minidress, fishnets, black platform heels and the choker and fangs. ¨We look hot, he's gonna die when he sees you¨ Hazel kissed your cheek lovingly, and with that you left.

Memories flooded your brain as Hazel parked in front of the clubhouse and were quickly interrupted by her voice ¨I really am sorry-¨, a reassuring smile and a wink shut her up, then you got out of the car. 

A dull throb came from the closed door, the beat of the music. It got louder as some girls you didn't know opened the door and got out, laughing and clearly drunk. 

¨Looks like a fun party Hazel, let's go get your guy¨, with that you started walking, putting as much fake confidence as you could into every step. What you were not expecting was her disappearing as soon as the door closed behind you.

By yourself, as you had so many nights before, you approached the bar, spotting Chibs. He smiled at you as a wave of recognition flashed in his face 

¨Look what the cat dragged in¨, leaning on the countertop. Chibs eyed you up and down and you twirled, chuckling ¨What can I get ya? It's on the house¨.

Jax´s breath caught in his throat as he saw you walking into the party, what the hell were you doing there. He couldn't believe how good you looked, the dress clinging to your body in all the right places, the fishnets, the dark makeup...

It might be the sexier you had ever looked. He had to play it cool so he leaned against the wall, beer in hand, yet his eyes followed your every movement. 

You were talking to Chibs, laughing and joking, and he felt a pang in his chest. That should be him.

Now that your vodka tonic was half empty, being in the clubhouse was way less stressful, still you had to make an effort not to look at him. You could feel his gaze on you, but you had not dared do the same. A blonde head of head on the periphery was more than enough. 

So you leaned in the bar next to Chibs. ¨Can you believe my friend ditched me the second she stepped in here?¨, a light chuckle escaping your lips at the absurdity of it. 

He laughed with you, looking around ¨Can´t blame her, not with hot bikers everywhere¨. 

¨Oh my god i cant believe youre on her side¨, you jokingly hit his arm. 

Chibs kept on joking about how hot the Sons were while you both looked around the room, your eyes suddenly falling on Jax.

 He looked fucking great . 

You had to make a bit of an effort to look away, taking a sip of your drink. This did not go unnoticed to Chibs, who smirked, knowing his brother too well. 

Jax had been peeking at you too, even if he pretended to focus on the conversation he was having. 

You noticed Chibs leaning closer, his voice dropping ¨You know he hasn't stopped looking at you since you walked in, don't ya?¨. 

You bit the inside of your cheek ¨Didn't even notice¨.

¨So you didn't notice him almost spilling his beer when he first saw you?¨ He chuckled ¨Or the way he keeps stealing glances every time he thinks no one's gonna notice?¨.

You could tell Chibs was enjoying your effect on Jax a little more than a brother should, but you were more worried about the way his presence was affecting you. 

¨I haven't got a clue what you´re talking about¨, you just hoped your innocent facade was good enough.

Chibs shook his head, so it wasn't. ¨You´re a terrible liar, but I´ll play along. Keep acting like he's not here and let's see how long he can keep his cool¨. A wink punctuated the ending of his challenge. 

Not loving the route the conversation was heading in, you finished your drink with one BIG gulp and left. 

¨Thanks for the drink, it was great¨. Before you could quite leave he chuckled, amused by your stubbornness.

¨Uh huh, whatever. Don't pretend to be surprised when he starts pestering you, you know he will. That boy can't resist a challenge¨

That did strike a nerve, and your mouth was working before you could register what you were saying, ¨I´m not a challenge, I´m his ex¨ 

Chibs chuckled and leaned in closer ¨You ignoring him is a challenge, being his ex only adds to it¨ He took a swing of his beer before continuing, ¨Trust me, you're getting under his skin more than you realize¨

For whatever reason, that angered you. You were not a challenge, and ignoring him was the sane choice. The alcohol in your system just fueled that anger, so still in hushed voices you retorted, ¨Am I getting under his skin? Or is he just horny and knows I´m a good fuck?¨

He just laughed, this was the you he remembered, running your mouth in a tiny dress, having a good time but not letting anyone put you down. Well, not anyone, the fight against Gemma was the one he'd seen you lose.

¨Oh believe me it's both, he sees you and all he can think about is getting you into bed. But there's more to it, ain't there?¨ This time when he smirked he was looking at Jax, who was talking to Tig, his eyes trained on you. 

You started walking to the dancefloor, and you offered a shrug as an answer to his question. The words that followed, not even you believed, ¨I don´t know, and I don´t care¨

Chibs watched you leave, talking to himself, ¨Yeah, you keep telling yourself that¨. He then looked at Jax, who was following your every movement from his spot leaning on the wall. Chibs just shook his head and went over, ready to stir the pot.

[laurfilijames]

Bulletproof

Pairing: Jax Teller x female reader

Words: 3.1k

Warnings: Rated E, 18+. Mentions of being shot through a bulletproof vest. Bruises and welts. Swearing. Unprotected intercourse.

Summary: After a close call in a gunfight, Jax turns to you to remind him of all the things in life worth living for.

A/N: I'm sorry I couldn't help it. This is a teeny bit angsty and full of feelings. I needed to write something "short and sweet" (it's neither of those 🤣) to get my writing back on track, and well, here's this... enjoy!!

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The buzz of your phone that sat on the nightstand beside your head woke you from a decent sleep, taking you a few minutes to register it was happening for real and not in a dream, a soft moan passing your lips as you reached over for it and hit the button to accept the call.

“Hello?” you answered, your voice groggy and unable to disguise your sleep, your eyes too heavy and blurred to have read on the screen who was on the other end.

“Hey, it’s me,” Jax’s voice registered in your ear, making you become a little more alert and sit up while running your hand over your hair.

“I’m on my way over,” he explained, his tone short and wired, like he was on edge or adrenaline was pumping through him.

Glancing over at the alarm clock, you simply agreed, not asking any questions, knowing if he was calling you and needing to see you at this hour that something more than just sex was on his mind.

The roar of his Harley came through before he hung up, and flinging the covers off while swinging your legs to the side of the bed, you did the same.

You walked through to the front door, wearing only his Reaper t-shirt that had become your nightly staple, flicking the bolt to unlock it as you leaned against the frame, peeling back the curtain that covered the small window to look out onto the dark street as if he would be rolling in any second despite him having just left to get there.

Letting your eyelids close, you continued to lean, wrapping your arms around yourself to try to keep some of the lingering warmth from your bed on your skin, partly hoping that Jax would be tired and ready for sleep when he arrived.

The familiar rumble of his engine sounded in the distance and grew louder with each second, and an automatic smile tugged at your lips, your heart picking up pace just as his motorcycle did to quicker close the gap between him and you.

You watched through the window, your fingers toying with the thin fabric as you held the curtain aside, seeing him roughly push down the kickstand with his white sneakers before quickly standing up and dismounting his bike, unfastening his helmet at the same time.

The way he was rushing made your pulse hammer, his deliberate strides a clear display of his desperation, and you opened the door for him before he blew through it and knocked it off its hinges, his expression a mix of frenzy and relief as his blue eyes landed on you.

Gloved hands gripped your cheeks roughly, pulling you into him equally as much as he pressed himself into you, his lips crashing against yours in a kiss so hard it stole your breath.

A slightly surprised gasp blew out of your mouth when he parted from you and gave you an opportunity to get air back into your lungs, your eyes searching his features with concern as you took in the sweat clinging to his reddened cheeks, his hair damp and darkened.

His chest rose and fell sharply, and tearing off his gloves, he raked his long fingers that held a home for his chunky rings through his messy tresses, exhaling a shaky breath as he looked down at the floor and then back up at you.

“Jax, what happened?”

He shook his head and chuckled falsely, pulling his bottom lip in his teeth before looking at you with what he must have thought was a convincing expression.

“I’m fine.”

His eyebrows sat high on his forehead and brought out the creases on it as he stared at you, and when you held his gaze almost challengingly, he blinked away the moisture that you caught building up in them and moved into you again, his sigh emptying out into your mouth as he kissed you slower this time, but with equal passion.

Your hands slipped up beneath his kutte, the heat of his skin pouring off of him as you rubbed his back in soothing motions, the act comforting yourself as much as it was him.

The familiar taste and smell of smoke assaulted your nose and transferred onto your tongue, knowing whatever stress he was under right now had caused him to light up one cigarette after the other to try to settle his nerves.

As your kiss faded out, Jax rubbed his nose against the side of yours, his breath hot on your cheek, the stickiness of his skin transferring onto yours.

He leaned his forehead against yours, breathing for a moment while he let his hands roam up over your bum and onto the small of your back, bringing your body even closer to his.

Swaying slightly on the spot, he nuzzled his face into yours even more, a moment of softness before he met your lips again, claiming you in another kiss that started slow and quickly increased in fervor.

His breathing became laboured, struggling to draw in enough air as he kissed you harder and with more desperation, his hands gripping at your flesh beneath his worn shirt.

You could feel his hard cock pressing into you as it strained against his jeans, making you rub yourself on it a couple of times with a teasing grind of your hips, your fingers moving down his stomach to work at the button and zipper while he shrugged out of his kutte.

It landed carelessly on the floor beside you, and you couldn’t mistake the slight wince on his face before it disappeared in his hoodie as he lifted his arms and pulled it over his head, immediately moving back to capture your lips again.

He kicked off his shoes and stepped out of his jeans, walking forward to force you back and further into your house, your hand rubbing him through his boxers before diving inside the waistband to take hold of his cock, stroking the hot, velvety skin of his length that made you moan into his mouth and him push harder on yours.

Both of you blindly made your way toward your bedroom, only pausing your kisses briefly to peel the white t-shirt that clung to his body off of him, your breath knocking out of you as he slammed you against the wall and began lifting the hem of the shirt still covering your body.

Once your naked form was available to him, he trailed his lips down your neck and along your collarbone while his hands smoothed all along your waist, one moving to your breasts where his fingers plucked one of your peaked nipples, the other traveling downward to slip between your legs.

“Jax…” you breathed, your tone needy and filled with lust, the sensation of his fingers entering and withdrawing from your slick hole making your eyes close and your head knock back on the drywall.

After losing yourself in ecstasy for a couple of minutes, you refocused, needing him more than ever, your thumbs hooking in the band of his boxers to tear them down his legs.

Jax took your hand and turned to lead you the short distance to your room, giving you a view of his back where your eyes were drawn to different spots of dark colouring that weren’t part of the ones that made up the large tattoo that covered almost all of it.

Peppered between the image of the Reaper and letters that spelled out ‘California’ were round bruises, his skin raised with welts, and your heart sank in realization of what had caused them; the impact of the bullets that had hit him unable to be disguised even with the protection of kevlar.

You instinctively reached out to lightly trace each one, counting three in total, a mix of emotions rushing through you that were half grateful and half terrified.

“I’m fine.” He repeated the same lie as before, glancing back at you as he paused in his steps and turned to face you.

You dove into him, wrapping your shaky arms around him to hug him so tight you didn’t care if it hurt, feeling his arms encase you in return and his lips press multiple times on the top of your head.

A sourness crept up your restricted throat, your guts twisting almost painfully at the thought of one of those bullets striking a place the bulletproof vest hadn’t been covering, and you frantically began kissing him everywhere you could reach, starting on his chest and making your way up his neck, your hands moving to cup his cheeks where your thumbs smoothed back and forth on his blond scruff. Your lips met again, both of you moaning into each other’s mouths as you transferred all your worry and grief into a display of love, his cock nudging at your core to remind you of what it was he needed right now.

The oncoming tears stung when you squeezed your eyelids together tightly, one slipping out and down your cheek as you retrained your focus on the feel of his tongue tangling with yours instead, the simplicity of needing to just be with him beginning to outweigh anything else.

You finally made it into your room, sitting on the bed and scooching yourself back to lay down with spread legs as he settled between them and sank overtop of you, continuing to kiss you with as much ardor that the skin around your mouth was already beginning to feel raw.

His knee pressed up on your thigh to guide it higher, spreading you out further as he covered your body completely with his, his fingers running along your scalp to send shivers across your skin.

You adjusted your hips, angling yourself to allow for his leaking head to push through your folds, lingering with just the tip of him inside you that somehow already made you feel full.

The skin on his back was tacky as you ran your hands gently up and down it, feeling his muscles flex as he began to move against you, his cock stretching you out inch by inch as he slowly pushed all the way in.

It was ironic; catching glimpses of the silver shell casing that hung from the chain around his neck in the light shining in through the window as it wagged and glided along your chest, filling the space between your hearts that hammered furiously and proved his vitality as if it hadn’t been threatened.

As soon as Jax had pulled into your driveway he felt better, the need to see you and be with you at the forefront of his mind, having bolted out of the clubhouse the minute he had changed out of his tac vest and clothes that were sprayed with holes from the gunshots he could still hear going off in his head.

Now that he had felt your lips against his and the softness of your skin beneath his palms, he was filled with an appreciation for you that he knew he took for granted too many times before, the relief he felt at being with someone who made him feel alive after a close call with death sobering him in a harsh bite of reality.

The way you made him feel was undeniable, giving him a vigor that was too often misplaced and diluted even though you showed him a brighter side to all the darkness that surrounded him, his lack of commitment to anyone but his club wrongly applicable even to you.

He thrusted harder into you, deepening his strokes as he peeled his mouth from yours to watch his cock pump in and out of you, the sound of your pleasure coming out in beautiful whimpers and soft moans while requesting more from him reiterating every reason why he came here tonight in the first place.

Jax dove against your lips again, needing to kiss you in order to stop himself from saying things that he feared may only be a result of how fucking scared he had been earlier, but deep down knowing the words that portrayed how he felt weren’t coming from a place of fear.

It felt different. Crazed and desperate and meaningful, the way he fucked you hinting at something more intent and unwavering than usual.

Sex with Jax was always mind-numbing and intense, but you never let yourself get too far into things knowing he could be gone before you even woke the next day and carrying on without thinking twice about it meaning anything more, his nonchalance always reminding you to take nothing from it other than pleasure.

Gone.

The potency of that little word had your eyes burning again, burrowing an emptiness in your chest that ached to be filled by anything he was generous enough to give.

There were never any labels put on what you were to each other or what this was, but the possibility of losing him at any moment made you desperate to show him what he meant to you, your fingers digging into the flesh on his upper arms so hard as if adding marks of your own on his body would make him stay with you forever.

You reached your face upward to press harder against his mouth, happy when he reciprocated and drove his tongue deeper inside yours, the long, rolling motions of his hips continuing, only now with more calculated force.

Heat bubbled within you, building up into that familiar tingle that taunted to be chased, every nerve in you warning of what drew nearer with each pump and drag of his long cock in and out of you.

The way his hands roamed your body in a calm, but needy way had your mind spinning, like the more he touched you the more it grounded and convinced him that he was still here to enjoy something this good; the gravity of today in no hurry to lose its effectiveness.

Jax paused for a moment, rubbing his hand over your forehead as he searched your eyes for permission or assurance or something more that scared even you, the sound of your panting breaths the only thing audible in the dark quiet of your room. He dipped down to brush your lips again, his scruff holding onto the sweat that had effectively coated every part of his body, lightly teasing with a softer kiss before resuming the purposeful tempo of his hips, the silence between you able to voice that you were both ready to find your high together.

Letting your bodies say what your words couldn't, you met his pace, grinding and rolling deliberately in time with him, the need to help him find his release with the use of your body seeming more important tonight than it ever had.

Jax gripped your face tightly, his fingers squeezing your jawline in an almost frantic way, groaning into your mouth desperately as a signal of his climax.

His thrusts never faltered, continuing to pound you while his hot cum filled you up in aggressive spurts, throwing you into your own orgasm as your clit rubbed against the coarse hairs on his groin. The feel of his cock sliding his thick seed in and out of you drew out your high, prolonging every blissful spark and shudder that tore through your body, the way his sweaty form laid heavily on top of yours a necessary weight that helped you stay rooted in the moment.

He remained buried inside you while you kissed, catching your breaths by sharing each other’s until he slipped from between your legs and crashed onto the covers beside you, his arm falling over his head as he stared up at the ceiling.

Despite having just been as close to him as you possibly could be, you felt a vacancy and longing for him, glancing over at him where you watched him close his eyes, his chest rising and falling quickly as he drew in sharp breaths.

His necklace fell to the side from where it rested on his pec, hanging in his armpit as he continued to breathe, and you carefully picked it up between your fingers, the silver cold against them and a stark contrast to the heat that radiated off his body.

Even though his eyes remained closed, you couldn’t mistake the pained look on his face, a sort of fear and vulnerability that was rare to see on his features, his mortality shattering the usual invincibility that was layered on falsely by his cockiness.

Your chest felt tight, watching him let everything the adrenaline had prevented him from feeling earlier course through him, and you leaned over and traced your fingertips along the creases beside his mouth before pressing your lips to his, relieved when he didn’t hesitate to kiss you back.

His arms came down to wrap around you, pulling your body to rest more on top of his, his hands carding over your back in a comfortable, soothing way.

You couldn’t recount the times sex with Jax had turned into a quick goodbye between smiling kisses and promises to see each other soon only to have days turn into weeks, convincing yourself and him that this was nothing more than a casual, fun fuck, having to disguise the way your heart ached for him and how many butterflies erupted at the mention of his name alone.

None of that mattered tonight, no longer caring if you let your cards show, the severity of tonight outweighing any need to try to stifle your feelings or bother denying that you felt more for him than you ever intended to let happen.

Jax remained pensive and quiet, his boisterous self clouded by his brush with a graver fate, but with the occasional kiss to the top of your head and the way his heartbeat had steadied in your ear, you knew he was comforted in your embrace.

As you laid entwined in your sheets, your leg hooked over his waist while he held your hand and played with your fingers, interlacing them and listlessly running them through his, you thought how you would never be able to control or guarantee if he would be yours to love forever, the way he lived his reckless life a threat to any sort of assurance.

A soft smile tugged at your lips when Jax shifted slightly lower on the bed to line up your face with his, kissing you slowly and clutching your hand in his where he brought it into his chest.

His nose rubbed against yours a couple of times before he settled his head on your pillow, a quiet hum sounding from his mouth, his blue eyes shining with a vitality and promise that for at least another day, he was yours.

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Please consider reblogging and commenting if you enjoyed reading this story! 💗

Taglist:

@sotwk @dailydragon08 @sunnys-day @thedreadandthefugitivemind @glassgulls @littlenosoul @glitterypirateduck @momia2910 @maggotzombie @rmwarn90 @paintlavillered @stealfromthedevil @kmc1989 @rhoorl

[puffins-muffins]

Control - The Reunion

Pairing: Jax Teller (AU-ish) x FemaleLawyer!Reader

Word Count: 7,008

Summary: Years after leaving Charming, you’re drawn back into SAMCRO’s world as Opie calls on you for help. When you come face-to-face with Jax for the first time in a decade, the undeniable tension between you resurfaces, stirring old emotions you thought you’d let go of.

Warnings: 18+ only please, cursing, Jax being a cocky shit.

A/N: Y’ALL!! The support this little fic of mine has received over the past week has made my Charlie obsessed heart SO HAPPY! I appreciate each and every one of you. So here’s part 2. Also! Not a lawyer and am relying on Google for lawyery things. This is my first Jax/SOA AU-ish fic. This one’s going to be a slow burn, I hope you stick around. Feedback - likes, comments, & reblogs are greatly appreciated. Beta'd by just myself, all mistakes are my own. Please enjoy! 💜

Part 1 - The Beginning

It had been nearly a decade since you left Charming, distancing yourself from the chaos that once consumed your life. A career opportunity had pulled you back to California just over a year ago, far enough from the ghosts of your past but close enough to feel the danger of reopening old wounds. In that time, you’d built a reputation as one of the top defense attorneys at your firm, becoming known for your relentless drive and sharp instincts. The sacrifices—the people, the memories, the pain you walked away from had seemed worth it as you carefully crafted this new life. 

That afternoon, you were engrossed in case files, mentally preparing yourself for the courtroom. Your phone buzzed on your desk, and you glanced at the screen, noting the unfamiliar number with a familiar area code. Charming. 

You froze, heart skipping a beat. Without thinking, you answered, “Hello?”

There was a pause, a beat too long before you heard a voice that stirred old memories. “Hey… it’s Opie.”

His voice was unmistakable, carrying the weight of years and the unspoken bond you once shared with him and SAMCRO. You sat up straighter, your pulse quickening. You hadn’t heard from Opie in what felt like a lifetime, and yet, hearing him now, everything came rushing back—the long nights, the brotherhood, the laughter, and the pain.

“Opie,” you said, your voice softer, filled with uncertainty. “It’s been a while.”

“Yeah, it has,” he replied, his tone thick with emotion. There was no small talk, no easing into it. “Look, uhh—I didn’t wanna bring this to you, but I didn’t know who else to call. It’s about Jax.”

You felt your chest tighten. Jax.

“He got arrested,” Opie continued. “Murder charges.”

The words landed like a punch, knocking the wind out of you. “Murder?” you echoed, barely believing it.

“It’s bullshit,” Opie rushed to explain. “The cops have had it out for him for years. You know how it is in Charming. They’ve been waiting for an opportunity like this, and now they’ve got it. But… we think it’s serious.”

You leaned back in your chair, closing your eyes for a moment to gather yourself. Jax. It had been years since you thought about him, really thought about him. But now, hearing that he was tangled in something like this, old emotions began to stir. You’d worked hard to bury those feelings, to keep your life separate from what you left behind.

 “Opie,” you began, trying to keep your voice steady, “why me? I’m not part of your world anymore.”

There was a silence on the other end, then he spoke, quieter now, more earnest. “Because we trust you. Jax… he needs someone who will fight for him. You’re the best. I’ve known you were back in California for a while now, just didn’t say anything—cause I respected why you left.  But the things you’ve done in court, we need someone like that. He needs someone like that. And to be honest, I—we, only trust you.”

You felt a pang in your chest, hearing the desperation in his voice, the weight of the trust they were placing in you. For a moment, you thought about hanging up, walking away would be the smart thing, but deep down, you knew you couldn’t ignore the pull of Jax Teller.

“I’ll look into it,” you said quietly, the words coming out before you could stop them. “But I’m not making any promises, Ope. This isn’t—”

“I get it,” Opie interrupted, his relief evident. “I get it. Just… thank you. I’ll send you the details.”

Hanging up, your mind raced. Jax was trouble, and he’d always been trouble. No one else in the world brought out your impulsive side the way he did. It was part of why you left, to escape the version of yourself that couldn’t say no to him. You’d always been careful, meticulous, and in control—except when he was involved.

Opie’s text pulled you from your thoughts. As you read over the sparse details he’d sent, that familiar instinct to defend kicked in. You ran a hand over your face, feeling the weight of the decision settle heavily on your shoulders. You had been strong enough to stay away before, but could you live with yourself if you didn’t at least try to help him now?

Finally, you let out a slow breath, the internal battle subsiding as resolve took over. You grabbed your phone again, the decision made.

“Liz,” you said, as your assistant answered. “I need you to get me everything you can on the Sons of Anarchy MC—contacts, history, whatever you can dig up. And find out where they’re holding Jackson Teller.”

The words were out, and there was no going back.

As you hung up, a familiar feeling settled in your chest. It was the same reckless rush you’d felt so many times before, the pull of something you knew you shouldn’t do but couldn’t resist. And no one, not even you, could ignore it when it came to Jax.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 You walked into the San Joaquin precinct like you owned the place—every step deliberate, every movement dripping with confidence. Eyes followed you, whispers rippling in your wake, but you didn’t bother acknowledging the attention. You didn’t need to; your presence said enough.

Sheriff Trammel glanced up from his desk, his eyes narrowing as he processed the sight of you. First came curiosity, then something resembling shock. “Well, I’ll be damned,” he muttered, leaning back in his chair. “Didn’t expect to see you around these parts. What brings you back? Visiting an old friend?”

There it was—the assumption, the lazy attempt to place you in a box marked the past. You almost smiled. Almost.

“I’m here to see my client,” you replied coolly, eyes sharp as they met his.

Trammel’s brow furrowed for a moment before he connected the dots. “Your client?” He blinked, caught off guard. And then it hit him, the change in his expression obvious. “Jackson Teller?”

“That’s right,” you confirmed, tone even but with a bite just underneath. “I’m his attorney.”

His smirk dropped, irritation replacing it as he straightened up, arms crossing over his chest. “Well, ain’t that a surprise,” he drawled, clearly trying to reassert control. “You do know what he’s been mixed up in, right?”

You didn’t miss a beat. “I know exactly what he’s involved in. What I don’t know is why he’s been stuck in an interrogation room for hours without at least a phone call.” Your voice was razor-sharp, no patience for his games. “If you need a refresher on how this works, Sheriff, I’ll be happy to provide one.”

Trammel’s jaw ticked, his attempt at authority slipping. “You don’t know how we do things around here,” he warned, voice dropping as if that was supposed to scare you.

“And you clearly don’t know who you’re dealing with,” you shot back, leaning in just enough. “You’ve got no grounds to hold him without due process. Now, unless you’re begging for a formal complaint and the inevitable walkout, I suggest you let me see my client. Now.”

A heavy silence followed, the tension between you palpable. Trammel stared at you, clearly weighing his options, but he wasn’t stupid. He knew you weren’t bluffing. With a tight-lipped sigh, he finally nodded to the nearest officer.

“Take her to Teller.”

As you followed the officer down the hall, the adrenaline that had been pushing you forward settled into a more focused determination. You had anticipated pushback, but this? They were dragging their feet, hoping to keep Jax trapped in a system designed to work against him. It only fueled your resolve.

When the door to the interrogation room finally opened, Jax was slouched at the table, looking more worn than you’d ever seen him—his face harder, the weight of his life etched into every line. But despite the exhaustion, that familiar glint of defiance still burned in his eyes. His gaze flicked up to meet yours, and for a second, time seemed to stop. His eyes widened, disbelief flashing across his face as if he wasn’t quite sure you were real.

“Jesus,” he muttered, sitting up straighter, his voice rougher than you remembered. “You?”

You stepped into the room, the door clicking shut behind you, your eyes stayed locked on his. You saw the momentary relief there, quickly buried beneath a mix of surprise and confusion.

“Yeah, me,” you said, keeping your tone steady, even though being in the same room with him again after all these years aroused something deep inside you.

As Jax took you in, his gaze locked onto yours with a slow, deliberate intensity. He leaned back in his chair, his movements unhurried, as if savoring the moment. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, just enough to send a rush of heat through you. It was the same look that used to drive you wild, but there was something more now—an edge, an awareness in his eyes that hadn’t been there before.

His blue eyes raked over you, slow and searching, like he was taking in every change, every part of you that had evolved since you last stood this close. But underneath the layers of disbelief, there was something familiar—a hunger, a pull that had never truly disappeared. His gaze lingered, appreciating the woman you’d become, and for a moment, it felt like the air between you crackled with electricity.

"Never thought I’d see the day," he murmured, his voice low, rough, sending a shiver down your spine. His eyes stayed locked on yours, the smirk deepening as he leaned forward just a fraction. "So, you’re back… for me."

His words oozed his signature swagger—seductive, teasing, but laced with an undercurrent of something darker. The way he looked at you now, like he could strip away every layer you'd built up over the years, made your pulse skip. There was a heat between you, undeniable, the tension from the past flickering back to life in an instant. Despite everything, despite the time and distance, Jax still had that maddening ability to make your heart race, stirring up emotions you’d long since tried to bury.

 You narrowed your eyes, refusing to let his attitude slide. “I’m here because Opie called,” you snapped, your voice sharper than you intended, trying to ignore the flutter of your chest. “This is business, Jax. So, the quicker you drop your cocky bullshit, the quicker I can figure out how to get you out of here.”

That damn smirk deepened, his head tilting in that familiar way, a glint of mischief flickering in his eyes as if no time had passed. “Cocky, huh? You sure you’re not just remembering how much you used to—”

“Don’t be disrespectful,” you cut him off coldly, your voice like ice, laced with a warning. There was a flash in his eyes, the playful arrogance dimming slightly.

His eyes scanned your face like he was searching for cracks in your professional façade, trying to find the girl he once knew beneath the hardened version of yourself standing before him. 

You sighed, fighting the urge to roll your eyes. “You’re not special, Jax. You need a defense, and Opie called in a favor. That’s it.” 

Jax tilted his head, eyes glinting with mischief. “Sure, that’s all it is. No way you missed me, right?” His lips curled into that signature smirk, the one that used to unravel you in ways you’d never admit. 

Your jaw tightened, refusing to give him an inch. “I didn’t miss the chaos or the danger. But I’m also not about to let your recklessness pull you under.” 

The smirk stayed, but his gaze darkened, his voice lowering a notch. “Recklessness, huh? Funny, I remember a time when you didn’t mind that part of me. Actually, you really kinda liked it.”  

He leaned in just enough to make your pulse quicken, eyes narrowing as they raked over you, searching for any crack in your armor. “Or maybe,” he said, voice low and taunting, “you’re just too scared to admit you’ve still got a soft spot for Charming…and for me.” 

Pausing, his gaze lingering on your lips for a breath too long. “Maybe you’re afraid you’re not over me.”

You slammed your notebook shut, the sound slicing through the thick tension. “I know what you’re trying to do.” You paused, struggling to suppress the old feelings he provoked within you, heat flushing your cheeks. The way his gaze lingered on your lips sent a shiver through you. He was pushing you, just like he did all those years ago.

 “This isn’t about feelings, Jax! It’s about saving your ass. If you’re too proud or too stupid to let me help, I can walk out that door right now and you can rot here. I promise you that I have better things to do with my time.” 

The room went silent. Jax studied you, the playful glint in his eyes finally fading, replaced by something closer to frustration, maybe even hurt. His cocky grin faltered, though his guard remained firmly in place. “Yeah? You’d walk out?” His voice was lower now, more serious, his disbelief still evident. “After all the shit we went through. Color me surprised.” 

You held his gaze, standing your ground. “You walked away from me first, Jax. Don’t forget that.” 

For the first time since you walked into the room, he didn’t have a snappy comeback. 

The tension hung between you, thick and unresolved, as the weight of the past settled in the silence. 

And as you stared at Jax, your mind wandered, taking in every detail of the man in front of you. He looked different now—older, more mature, but no less magnetic. In fact, the changes had only made him more striking in a raw, rugged way. The boyish charm that used to come so effortlessly was still there, buried beneath the exhaustion in his eyes. His blonde hair, slightly shorter now and slicked back, showed streaks of silver. The faint peppering of gray in his beard only added to the hardened edge that framed his jaw. He was still strong, still the same powerful presence, but there was a heaviness to him now, like the weight of his choices had settled deep into his bones.

Despite the roughness, despite everything the years had taken from him, Jax Teller was still undeniably attractive. The kind of man who could make your heart race with just a glance—the dangerous pull he’d always had, only now more potent. The way his blue eyes seemed to pierce through you, the way he carried himself, the confidence that bordered on arrogance, it was all there, all of it pulling at you in ways you didn’t want. 

But this wasn’t the Jax from those carefree days at the park or late nights at TM. The version of him who used to tease you relentlessly, making your pulse quicken, had been worn down by the life he chose. The violence, the betrayals, the loss… it was all written on his face. For a moment, your resolve wavered. The dangerous temptation to fall back into old patterns, to get too close again, tugged at you.

And then Jax broke the silence. “Yeah, but you actually left.”

That stopped you in your tracks. The accusation in his voice, the weight of it, hit hard, settling in the pit of your stomach. This version of Jax was ruthless. The room was heavy with silence, both of you staring at each other, years of unspoken hurt rising to the surface.

But you weren’t about to let him flip this on you.

“I left,” you repeated, the words sharp, “because there was nothing left for me. You made your choice, Jax. The club, the women… you chose that life over us. You knew it, and so did I.” Your voice hardened, fueled by years of buried frustration. “Don’t try to put this on me like I’m the one who abandoned you.”

He didn’t respond, but his eyes remained locked on yours. You could see the struggle in him, the way his jaw tightened, the way he fought back against what you were saying.

“So yeah,” you continued, your voice steady, “I left. I chose a life where I wouldn’t have to wonder if the next phone call I got would be someone telling me you were dead. You know, like my father.” 

The words landed hard, slicing through the air. You saw the flash of pain in Jax's eyes as he stiffened at the mention of your dad. And for a moment, neither of you said a word, but the truth had to be spoken—it was the reason you left, the reason you couldn’t stay in that life.

“I built something for myself. And now I’m here, trying to help you, despite all of that. So maybe it’s time you stopped acting like a shit and let me do what I came here to do.”

His eyes stayed on yours, but now they weren’t filled with that teasing cockiness anymore. There was something deeper, something he wasn’t quite ready to admit.

Finally, Jax let out a slow breath, his shoulders relaxing just a fraction. He leaned back against the wall, breaking eye contact for the first time, the weight of your words settling over him.

“I guess I just never thought you’d actually go,” he muttered, voice quieter now, the defensiveness finally giving way to something more vulnerable.

For the briefest moment, you almost let the softness in his tone get to you, almost let it bring up the memories of the man you’d once loved so fiercely. But you couldn’t afford to go there. Not now.

You straightened your spine, shifting back into lawyer mode. “Well, I did. And now I’m back, for this. So, do you want my help or not?”

Jax glanced up at you, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then, with a resigned nod, he finally dropped the bravado completely.

"Yeah, Pep” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. "I need your help.” 

And just like that, the wall between you shifted. The weight of his words, and that damn nickname—it hit you in a way you hadn’t anticipated, like a suckerpunch to the gut, and a rush to your chest, stirring up memories you’d buried deep.

For a split second, the weight of everything between you seemed to vanish, replaced by a memory of a simpler time. You swallowed hard, fighting to stay steady, and nodded once, flipping your notebook open again, determined to stay in control. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You could feel the weight of the eyes on both of you, the tension thick between the rows of onlookers. It wasn’t just another day in court; this was the opening move in a game of chess that would decide whether Jax would spend the next decades of his life behind bars.

He stood tall, his posture relaxed, but you could see the strain in his face, the way his jaw clenched tightly as the judge read over the charges. Murder. Conspiracy. And the bail—the Judge already threatening to keep him behind bars. It was a deliberate message, one meant to keep him locked up and out of the way. One you knew too well.

You glanced at Jax from the corner of your eye, noting how composed he seemed despite the gravity of the situation. But then again, that was him—always steady, even when the world was falling apart around him. Still, you caught the tension in the way his hands gripped the edge of the table, knuckles white.

The DA wasted no time, framing Jax as the leader of a violent motorcycle gang, a man entrenched in crime, a threat to society, and someone with every reason to flee. It was the narrative they always spun, but it still landed heavily in the room.

The judge leaned forward, his gaze heavy with scrutiny. "Given the serious nature of the charges against you Mr. Teller," he began, his voice measured, "I am inclined not to grant bail."

A subtle ripple of murmurs moved through the room, but you didn’t flinch. You lived for this part—standing in the line of fire, fighting for your client. This was what you were born to do.

Clearing your throat, you stepped forward, your voice steady and sure. “Your Honor, I understand the gravity of the charges, but Mr. Teller is not a flight risk. He has deep ties to this community—his family, his responsibilities, and his roots are firmly planted in Charming. He operates a successful business that helps rehabilitate recently released inmates, providing them with support and job opportunities.

 “I’d also like to submit a character statement from former Chief Wayne Unser of the Charming PD, which corroborates Mr. Teller’s commitment to his community and the positive contributions he has made over the years. He has shown unwavering dedication, and there’s no reason to believe he would abandon those responsibilities now.”

As you approached the bench to hand the document to the judge, you could feel the tension in the room, but you weren’t finished.

“Furthermore, Your Honor,” you pressed on, “there is a glaring lack of concrete evidence provided by the prosecution at this time. What we have here is more of a narrative than a solid case. My client is being painted as guilty by association, rather than through any real proof. The due process he’s entitled to has already been compromised by rushed charges and incomplete evidence. Denying him bail under these circumstances would be fundamentally unjust.”

You could sense the weight of the room shifting, the prosecution casting quick, uneasy glances at their notes, preparing a rebuttal. But you weren’t going to let them get the last word. 

“All we’re asking for, Your Honor, is the opportunity for Mr. Teller to continue living his life while we prepare his defense. He’s not going anywhere, and the absence of substantive evidence speaks volumes.”

The judge sat back, contemplating your argument, and you braced yourself. His eyes flickered to Jax briefly before returning to you.

"Bail is set at $500,000," he finally declared, the gavel heavy in his hand. "And Mr. Teller will surrender his passport."

The decision came down like a hammer, the thud of it reverberating through you. You glanced over at Jax. His expression didn’t waver. No flinch, no sign of surprise, just a small nod, as if to say, ‘We knew this was coming.’ His eyes met yours, steady and calm, while the weight of the judge’s words hung in the air.

You swallowed hard, regaining your focus. There was no time to react, only to plan. Your mind was already turning over the next steps, fast and sure. You’d have to move quickly now.

And just like that, court was adjourned. The room erupted into murmurs as people filtered out. But you stayed put for a moment, watching as Jax was cuffed again, his wrists bound in front of him. He met your eyes briefly, a flicker of something passing between you. Trust? Maybe. Or maybe it was that same pull—the one that made it impossible to stay away, no matter how much you tried.

You exhaled slowly, gathering your things, the weight of what’s next pressing down on you like a storm brewing just on the horizon. There was so much left to prepare for, so much at stake.

As they led Jax away, he gave you a small, almost imperceptible nod. You returned it, knowing that this was just the beginning. You would do what you came here to do—protect him, defend him, win this case. But as you watched him disappear into the hallway, the past, as always, lingered too close for comfort.

As the last of the courtroom's noise faded, you found Jax seated in the small holding area, his posture tense, arms resting on his knees. He glanced up as you approached, a flicker of frustration in his expression as he leaned back against the wall.

“They’re really putting you in a tough spot with that bail,” you said, your voice calm despite the frustration you felt.

“Half a mil,” Jax muttered, shaking his head, a bitter edge to his tone. “They want me to fucking rot in here.”

You shifted, standing a little closer. “Are you able to cover the 10%? Fifty grand?”

Jax gave a slow, skeptical shake of his head, running a hand over his beard. “That’s the problem… I don’t know if we can pull it all together in time. The club’s tapped from all the heat we’ve been under, and most of my assets are tied up in shit I can’t touch right now. I’ve got some, but I don’t know if it’s enough.”

You crossed your arms, thinking through the logistics, trying to calculate how quickly you could move things around. It wasn’t just about the money—it was about timing, resources, and connections. You looked at him, the weight of his doubt hanging in the air. He didn’t like feeling helpless, and you hated seeing him like this.

“I’ll call Opie,” you said after a moment, your voice steady, full of resolve. “We’ll figure something out.”

Jax met your gaze, eyes narrowing slightly as if trying to gauge how serious you were. “And if we can’t?” he asked, the vulnerability in his voice barely masked.

You didn’t blink. “We will,” you promised. “I’m not letting you sit in here any longer than you have to.”

He watched you for a long moment, his skepticism giving way to something that resembled trust, though he still seemed unconvinced. “Alright,” he said finally, though there was still a tension in his voice. “But if it doesn’t happen—”

“It will,” you interrupted, cutting off his doubt. “Let me handle it.”

Jax’s expression softened, though the worry didn’t leave his eyes. “Just hang tight and I’ll have you out of here as soon as possible.” You reassured him.

He sighed, the weight of the situation still pressing down on him. “I hope you’re right.”

You gave him one last look, then turned to leave, as you stepped out of the holding area, the cold air of the hallway wrapped around you, you hit dial on Opie’s number. It only rang once before he picked up, his voice steady but laced with concern.

“Hey, what’s going on?” he asked, and you could almost hear the wheels turning in his mind.

“Opie, I need you to pull together whatever you can for Jax’s bail,” you said, urgency threading through your voice. “The judge set it at $500,000.”

“Shit.” Opie growled. “That’s a lot of cash on very short notice. We might be able to scrape together 30 or 35 at most, but—”

“Do what you can,” you said, trying to sound more encouraging than demanding. “I know it’s a lot, but please, Opie, just focus on getting the cash as quickly as possible. I’ll handle the rest.”

“Are you sure about this?” he asked, concern evident in his voice. He knew all too well what getting involved in Jax’s life again could mean for you.

You inhaled deeply, feeling the weight of his words. “I know what I’m doing.” Your commitment unwavering.

He paused, and you could almost feel him weighing your words, knowing the bond you shared with Jax. “Alright. I’ll rally the guys and see what we can do.”

“Thanks, Ope,” you said, a faint hint of relief hanging off your voice. “I’ll talk to you soon.”

You hung up, your heart racing as you weighed your next steps. It felt insane, but the idea of Jax trapped in that cell was simply unacceptable.

You were ready to dip into your own savings if it meant securing his freedom—a leap of faith rooted in the conviction that he deserved a chance, despite everything that had happened between you.

With a surge of determination, you navigate your way through the courthouse, already brainstorming ways to cover the bail gap. You knew all too well how difficult it was to say no to Jax, to resist the magnetic pull he always had over you. His presence was like a drug, intoxicating and familiar, making it impossible to ignore the depths of your feelings for him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sun was beginning to dip lower in the sky as you stood outside the county jail, leaning against your car, arms crossed. It had taken most of the day, but between Jax’s assets, the club’s contributions, a few favors, and your own money, you had gathered enough to post his bail. You handled everything from the legal side, and now, all that was left was to wait.

When the doors finally swung open, Jax emerged, free of his cuffs, his movements deliberate as he sauntered toward you. That familiar strut—the same one that used to drive you wild was still there, but it was different now. Worn by time.

You glanced up just as he stopped in front of you, hands sliding casually into his pockets. His smirk made a brief return, a shadow of the cocky kid you once knew. But his eyes... they carried something more broken now.

“This isn’t over, Jax,” you said before he had the chance to speak, your tone sharp, all business. “We’ve got a long way to go before trial, and I need you to cooperate. Please don’t make this harder than it already is.”

He leaned in slightly, his voice low, rough around the edges. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

You rolled your eyes, refusing to take the bait. “I’m serious. I need everything from you—details, information, the truth—if we’re going to win this.”

Jax raised an eyebrow, that smirk lingering. “You think I’m holding out on you?”

“I think you’ve spent most of your life holding out on everyone.” you shot back, your voice cool, cutting through whatever charm he thought he was working. “I need full transparency, Jax.”

You were always so good at calling him on his bullshit. One of the very few people who even dared to.

For a moment, his expression shifted—just a flicker of something underneath the surface. The smirk faltered, replaced by something unreadable. He stepped back, crossing his arms as he leaned against the hood of your car, his eyes scanning you like he was trying to size you up all over again. Like he was testing the waters, seeing if the person standing in front of him was still the same woman who knew him better than most, or if time had changed that.

It was like the years between you hadn’t existed, like you were both right back where you started. Only now, the stakes were higher, the weight of everything unsaid and unresolved hovering between you.

The ride was quiet at first. The hum of the engine and the passing landscape were the only sounds filling the space between you and Jax. 

You kept your eyes on the road, hands gripping the steering wheel a little tighter than necessary, doing everything you could to ignore the tension that thickened the air inside the car.

Jax sat beside you, his gaze a palpable weight, even though he hadn’t said much since you pulled away from the jail. He’d offered a brief, low thank you, but that was the extent of it.

 Your mind raced with everything unspoken, years apart, and buried feelings neither of you dared to confront. The last time you’d been this close, everything had been different. Now, the proximity felt like teetering on the edge of a cliff, waiting for the drop. 

Jax shifted, clearing his throat as if to break the silence. “You didn’t have to do this, you know. Bail me out.”

You kept your eyes locked on the road, your grip tightening around the steering wheel. “It’s my job.”

“Is it?” His tone was playful, but there was an underlying challenge in his words. “There’s no way my guys could scrape together 50k that fast. If you’re risking your own money, Pep—that doesn’t sound like just a job.”

He knew you too well, as if he could still read your thoughts. His words hung heavily in the air, the truth simmering just beneath the surface, threatening to spill over.

You didn’t answer right away, focusing on the road ahead, trying to steady the swirl of emotions threatening to pull you under. He wasn’t wrong. But you weren’t about to admit that.

Instead, you took a breath, your voice measured. “I’m doing what needs to be done. That’s all.”

He glanced over at you, a small smirk playing on his lips, like he could see right through the wall you’d put up. “Sure,” he said, the knowing look in his eyes made it clear he wasn’t buying it. “You always were good at getting what you wanted.”

You looked at him, the comment hanging between you like an unfinished sentence, laced with the weight of the past. Jax shifted in his seat, his gaze flickering over to you as the silence stretched. You could feel it—the weight of everything, the tension that always seemed to hang between you. It was almost suffocating. 

“You were impressive in there,” Jax said, breaking the silence once again. His voice was low and rough, but genuine. A smirk played on his lips, and it tugged at something inside you.

“You sound surprised,” you teased, a lightness creeping into your tone as you welcomed the distraction from the charged atmosphere in the car.

He chuckled, leaning back against the seat. “Nah, not surprised. Just… damn, you’ve changed.” His gaze roamed over you, like he was trying to reconcile the woman beside him with the girl he once knew.

Jax’s grin widened, clearly reflecting on your words in court. “I especially liked the part about how I rehabilitate former inmates at the garage.” His laughter echoed in the confined space.

 You let your smile shine through. “That was pretty good, wasn’t it?” A mischievous smirk playing on your lips, “I mean… being president of the Sons is kind of the same thing, don’t you think?” You didn’t give him a chance to respond before adding, “I’ve just perfected the art of storytelling.”

He raised an eyebrow, a playful challenge in his gaze. “Yeah? You make it sound almost convincing.”

“Well, I’m also really good at getting what I want,” you replied, relishing the lighthearted banter even as a familiar heat simmered beneath the surface.

He studied you, his gaze piercing, making you feel heavy, almost relaxed, underneath it. “But it’s more than that. You were always smart, always tough. Now… it’s like you’ve grown into it. Like you own it.”

There was an intensity in his voice that made your chest flutter, a recognition of everything you’d become in his absence. It wasn’t just admiration; it was respect—something deeper and more meaningful than it had ever been between you.

You swallowed hard, your mouth suddenly dry. “Thanks,” you said, keeping your voice steady, even as his words unraveled emotions you hadn’t confronted in years.

His gaze lingered on you, heavy and unyielding. “Guess I’ve been missing out,” he added, a smirk returning to his lips, though it felt softer this time, as if he was wrestling with his own realizations about you and the past.

You tried to ignore the way your pulse quickened, the way the years and distance didn’t seem to matter when you were this close to him. It was dangerous territory, this pull between you—familiar, yet different. Both of you had changed, but some things were harder to leave behind.

“Don’t get used to it,” you said with a small smile, still trying to keep the mood light. “I’m not always going to be the one bailing you out.”

Jax laughed softly, shaking his head. “Yeah, we’ll see about that.”

The ride back to Charming always felt endless. The road stretched out before you, but all you could focus on was the man sitting beside you, the charged silence thick between you both. The air in the car felt heavy, buzzing with unspoken tension, making your mind wander in directions you didn’t want.

Desperate for a distraction, you reached for the radio, just as Jax did the same. Your hands collided, the sudden touch sending a jolt through you, electric and impossible to ignore. The contact was brief, but it was enough to send sparks skittering up your arm, your breath catching for just a second.

Jax froze too, his hand lingering over yours for just a moment longer than it should’ve, both of you caught in that split second of something undeniable. You didn’t move, and neither did he. The heat of his skin against yours, the brush of his fingers—it was like a shockwave, pulling you back into memories you’d been trying so hard to suppress.

You glanced over at him, finding him already watching you, his eyes dark, intense. The air between you humming with a vibrant, electric tension.

Neither of you said a word, but the silence spoke volumes. You pulled your hand away first, the moment breaking, but the charge still lingered in the air, leaving you both more unsettled than before.

You pulled into the familiar lot at TM, the sight of the place hitting you like a wave. It had been a long time since you’d been back, but the memories came rushing in all at once—the sound of engines revving, the smell of oil and metal, your dad’s laughter, Jax’s smile. The weight of it pressed down on your chest, and you struggled to keep your composure.

Your grip tightened on the steering wheel as you tried to steady yourself. Anxiety twisted in your stomach, your mind flooding with the past.

Jax shifted beside you, breaking you from your thoughts. You turned to him, forcing yourself to focus, to stay present. There wasn’t time for nostalgia, not with everything ahead of you.

“You comin’ in?” he asked, his voice smooth. “The guys would love to see you.”

Your heart lurched at the thought. Walking through those doors, seeing faces you hadn’t seen in years—it was too much, too soon. You weren’t ready for that.

You shook your head, lips pressing into a thin line. “No, not this time,” you replied firmly, glancing toward the clubhouse. 

Jax seemed to understand, his eyes softening with a knowing look. He didn’t push.

As he reached for the door, you cleared your throat, keeping your voice even, though your pulse quickened with anxiety. “I’ve got a few cases to wrap up,” you said, glancing over at him. “But once that’s done, I’m all in. I’ll be back in a few weeks, and we’ll get to work. Until then, Liz will handle discovery and start gathering everything for your defense. You can trust her—she’s a better paralegal than I ever was.”

Jax didn’t break his gaze, the weight of it making your thoughts scatter. He gave a slow nod, his voice quiet but firm. “Alright,” he said. “I’ll be ready.”

You nodded in return, your mind racing, trying to stay focused on the work ahead rather than the tension simmering between you. This was just the beginning—a long, messy road loomed, and the past still lingered too close.

“Listen, Jax,” you said, your tone turning serious. “It’s important you stay out of trouble. You need to minimize your time with the club—no unnecessary risks, no run-ins with the cops. We can’t afford any slip-ups.”

He tensed, his jaw tightening. “You’re telling me to stay away from my own club?” There was a sharp edge to his voice, a flash of something that made the air feel heavier.

You shot him a pointed look, not backing down. “I’m telling you to be smart,” you said, matching his intensity. “I’m trying to keep you out of prison. Help me do that. No stunts, no risks. You’ve got too much riding on this.”

He looked like he wanted to argue, the tension in his frame unmistakable, but after a beat, he nodded. “I’ll keep my head down.”

“Good.” You softened just slightly, letting some of the weight ease from your voice. “This is only the beginning, Jax. We’ve got a long way to go.”

For a moment, he hesitated, fingers lingering on the door handle before he spoke again. “I appreciate you doing this, Pep,” he said, his voice holding a depth that caught you off guard.

That god-damned nickname hitting you square in the gut. You swallowed hard, “Just stay out of trouble,” you reminded him, keeping your tone firm despite the way he was making you feel.

Jax gave you a nod, hesitating as though he had something more to say. But instead, he gave you that old, familiar wink and stepped out of the car. As he headed toward the clubhouse, you watched him, a knot forming in your chest that you couldn’t shake.

Alone again, you let out a slow, shaky breath, your thoughts spinning. The weight of everything left unsaid—it hung in the air long after he was gone.

What the hell had you gotten yourself into?

Part 3 - The Attraction

[tumbleweed-writes]

Masterlist

Long Fics:

Death and the Lady: Chibs Telford X Reader. :

Y/N has tried hard to forget her past as a club hang around in Charming. She's tried to be a better person attempting to run her family's funeral home and be an upstanding member of society. However a request for a favor from SAMCRO in exchange for payment for debts drags her right back into the life she tried so hard to leave behind. The offer of payment isn't the only thing pulling her back into the world of SAMCRO. A certain Scotsman proves to be another incentive to Y/N to possibly find her way back to the life she'd sworn to leave behind.

One , Two , Three , Four , Five , Six , Seven , Eight , Nine , Ten , Eleven , Twelve , Thirteen , Fourteen , 15 , 16,

Lilies and Thistles:

Lily Unser comes back to Charming to be with her ailing father. She finds that the world she left behind for college is changing. Things are changing fast and she doesn't know where to stand. Soon Lily finds herself connected to someone who gives her a reason to stay in California. Is Chibs enough to keep her here? Is Lily enough to mend his damaged heart? Starts before season 1.

1 ,

Now That I Have You

Molly and her young son have come to Charming trying to start a new life after fleeing an abusive marriage. The last thing she expects to find is a relationship with a certain Scot. Chibs didn't expect to find love either but finds that he doesn't want to let go of Molly and her boy. Can he protect them when her past comes knocking? Can she accept Chibs' often dangerous life?

One , Two , Three , Four , Five , Six , Seven ,

Scorned

When Sheriff Althea Jarry returns from a sabbatical and discovers that Chibs Telford has taken an ol lady, she's none too pleased. Will her attempts to destroy the peace Chibs Telford has found with Y/N have dangerous consequences for Chibs and Y/N and all that they hold dear?

One, Two , Three , Four , Five , Six , Seven ,

Oneshots:

Wrong Number

When Y/N sends some enticing photos meant for her ol man to the wrong number, she receives some surprising but much hoped for results.

Belonging

Chibs decides that the best way to protect Y/N from the violence of his life is to break her heart. Y/N decides that the best way to mend her broken heart is to agree to a date with a rookie cop much to Chibs' irritation. Chibs is left attempting to win back Y/N and show her they belong to one another the only way he knows how. A smut dialog request. 18+

Deserving

When Frankie Diamonds takes Chibs Telford hostage after going on a rampage and Diosa, Y/N is left fearing the man she loves may be gone from her life forever.

Homecoming

Y/N longs for Chibs Telford after a week apart. A moment of attempting to find some relief from the tension and longing for her fiancé ends in a surprising result as Chibs arrives to a welcome home he had not been anticipating. 18+ Smut dialogue request.

Sweetness

Chibs Telford reflects on how his ol lady came into his life and showed him a sense of sweetness he never thought he deserved. During a moment of intimacy Y/N and Chibs make a surprising but pleasing discovery in the bedroom. 18+smut

Never Lost

President Chibs Telford needs some reassurance from his ol lady as he contemplates the future of SAMCRO. 18+ smut

Fight for What You Want

One ,

When Chibs Telford overhears the woman he’s been unwilling to make a move on has a first date lined up, will he be willing to fight for her? When Y/N’s first date turns into the first date from hell will Chibs Telford’s efforts to protect her be enough to turn the night around?

[samcrosfaith]

GONE WITH THE SIN / CHAPTER EIGHT

Happy Lowman x fem!oc

authors note; You can find all chapters of this story in my main masterlist pinned post it'll lead you to the right masterlist! I appreciate every like, comment and/or reblog! 🖤🍒

tag list; @ravennaortiz @mamawiggers1980 @tommyflanaganfan-blog @adoreemee @delightfulheroshoeflap @jp1019 @sjester42-blog @mayanqueenxx @aimkatsz

word count; 2577

TARA SQUINTED HER EYES against the sun as she looked over at Randi, silent at first. It was unusual for her best friend and sister-in-law to be so quiet, normally Randi had this bubbly personality, this infectious good mood.

But not today.

"Okay, are you so quiet because of what happened to Happy or because of Julia?" Tara stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and stopped Randi as well by gently olding her arm, the coffee to-go in her other hand. "Just talk to me, say anything. But this silence is creepy, really."

Randi remained silent for another moment before finally giving in to Tara's curious gaze, a frustrated sigh falling from her lips. "Both, I guess. Shit, I was really scared, especially because I had no idea what happened. And then..then that bitch storms into the room andᅳ"

Randi shook her head, her lips in a thin line as she looked away, staring at the coffee to-go she was holding. "He said he was single, that there was no other woman. I wouldn't have slept with him otherwise."

Tara almost choked on the sip of coffee she had just taken, staring at Randi with wide eyes. "You slept with him? And you're only telling me this now?!"

"Sorry", the brunette replied with a wry smirk and a shrug. "It just happened somehow. I knew it was going to happen the moment I let him into my apartment though. I have no self-control around that man."

"But what does that mean now? I mean..was it just sex or more?" Tara hooked her arm through Randi's and slowly strolled on, curious to hear more. "I would really be happy for you guys if you could work things out, you were really happy with him."

"Yeah, I was. Until I ruined it." Randi let out a bitter snort, the anger at herself still gnawing at her. "In Seattle, I really thought it could work out again. Shit, I even seriously considered giving up everything to come back after spending the week with him", she admitted before clicking her tongue. "But apparently he already has someone. And lied to me on top of that."

Tara didn't miss the bitterness, the sadness in Randi's words as she stopped in her tracks again. "He didn't lie to you, Randi. Julia is nothing more than a bed warmer for him, a croweater. Happy isn't in a relationship. You know full well that you were the only one he could even imagine this life with."

"But why was she there then?! Did you see how she threw herself at him?" Randi asked through a huff, but she was just hurt. "Do you have any fuckin' idea how much it hurt to see another woman worry about him? That's my job; was my job."

"Julia is always around him and is desperately trying to become more than a croweaterᅳ but she never will." With a small smile, Tara nudged Randi's shoulder. "Happy told me to tell you to come back later. And believe me, Julia was with him less than two minutes. He doesn't want her, he wants you and we all know that."

"You really think so?" Randi usually wasn't an insecure person, but she didn't know what to think or feel at the moment. "I still love him, I realized that last weekᅳ although I never doubted it. Butᅳ"

"But your job is getting in the way", Tara finished the sentence for her friend, her tone full of understanding. "I used to be like you. My career was so important to me that I blocked out everything around me. Don't get me wrong, I love my job; but sometimes I wonder what would've happened if I had never left Charming back then."

"Maybe you'd have five kids with Jax by then", Randi chuckled, her sour mood finally fading a little. "Dancing was all I ever dreamed of until I met Happy. But then I got the letter and..I was afraid that I would regret it one day if I hadn't taken the chance."

"Hey, it's okay that you chose that path", Tara smiled weakly. "And if we're honest, moving to Seattle seems to have shown you what you really want. A life with Happy."

"Yeah, maybe", Randi sighed, turned the next corner and changed the subject after taking another sip of her coffee. "Shit, this really is the best coffee in townᅳ no, the best coffee in the whole freakin' world", Randi gushed.

"Well, I guess you'll only get it daily again if you come back to Charming", Tara said with a wink, which made both women laugh before they spent some more time in the nearby park to catch up on all the things they haven't talked about while Randi was gone.

ᅳ

THERE SHE STOOD, in front of her house. The house she bought with Happy a little over two years ago. Okay, he had paid most of it, after all he had more money after selling his old, smaller house. But Randi had put in every dollar she had saved, even though Happy told her she didn't have to.

The yellow facade was already peeling a bit, but it still looked just as cozy as it did a year ago. The sun, which hung high in the sky and beat down on Charming, cast an extra warm glow on the property. The lawn was freshly mowed, the small palm bushes on the sides looked well-kept.

Probably, and the Morrow woman was pretty sure of this, it was Gemma's work. Her mother had a very specific love of plants and probably just wanted to make sure that the garden was still well-kept even though it wasn't even her house.

Excitement bubbled up inside her as she headed to the door and turned the key she had kept all year. Taking another deep breath, she entered the house and immediately found herself in the living room, and the memories she had collected here hit her like a truck.

But what she noticed first was the distant scent of Happy, his scent probably clinging to the furniture, spread throughout the house. She closed her eyes for a moment after letting her duffle bag slip from her shoulder, enjoying the quiet moment as she folded her arms across her chest.

She felt at home.

The lump in her throat was hard to swallow as her eyelids fluttered open again, her brown orbs taking everything in. The pictures in the living room, of her and Happy, club parties, of Happy's mom. Nothing had changed. The furniture was the same, even her favorite dark green blanket lay on the couch, neatly folded.

Randi wasn't surprised, she knew that Happy was a neat freak and needed everything clean. She had always been the chaos queenᅳ and still was.

Her path led to the kitchen, the largest room in the house. The previous owner had installed a new kitchen just before he moved out, the white cabinets and stainless steel appliances still shone like they did on the first day they moved in.

A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, but at the same time pain tugged at her heartstrings as she thought about the last conversation here where she had begged Happy to come with her. The look of real pain and anger on his face was burned into her memory and still haunted her today.

Her breath hitched in her lungs before her feet quickly carried her into the next rooms until she finally stood in the bedroom, her heart heavy as she came to a stop in front of their bed. Randi hesitated for a brief second, but she had to do it.

Shaking her combat boots off her feet, Randi fell back onto the bed, some of her brown hair splayed out around her head. She just stared at the ceiling for a while before rolling onto her side and pulling Happy's pillow against her chest, burying her face deep in it.

And when his scent filled her nostrils again, much stronger this time, she just wanted to come back home. Inhaling his scent had such a calming effect on her that she fell asleep within a minute. Sleep that she probably needed more than she had thought.

ᅳ

A LOUD RUMBLE ECHOED through the house, startling Randi awake. Confused, she looked around until she remembered that she must've fallen asleep earlier.

But she was on high alert right away as the noises grew louder. The brunette slid off the bed silently, pulled her duffel bag closer, and rummaged through it for her gun, something she always carried with her. If Happy had taught her one thing, it was to never be unarmed; that had always been the most important thing to him.

With the gun firmly in her hands, Randi slowly stepped into the hallway and let out a loud gasp when Happy came around the corner and ran straight into her, his expression almost amused as she stared at him in shock and immediately put the gun aside.

"Jesus Hap! I almost shot you", she scolded in concern, running her shaky fingers through her hair.

"You kept it", he noted with a rasp, followed by a slight grin. "Atta girl."

"You could've said it was you sooner!" Randi said with a scoff and shoved him in the chest, slapping her palm against her forehead as Happy let out a low growl, his face twisting in pain. "Oh my god, shit, sorry. Sit down!"

"I'm fine", the SAA grunted as Randi gently pushed him towards the couch. He sat down reluctantly, every movement still straining.

"What are you even doing here?" Randi stubbornly asked. When she stood in front of him, right between his legs, she put her hands on her hips, looking like a younger copy of her mother. "I bet the doctors didn't tell you that you were good to go home. Am I right or am I right?"

Of course, the concern for him increased immensely, after all, his injuries weren't exactly harmless.

"You didn't come", he stated simply, his eyes now locked with hers. "So I came. And don't even try to convince me to go back."

"Butᅳ" Randi paused, cursing under her breath as Happy shot her a look that clearly said 'don't even try'. "I was sleeping, otherwise I would've come. I'm sorry, but first I was out with Tara, then I spent some hours with Mom and Dad to catch up, and then I just fell asleep here."

Happy shook his head, his hand reaching for her wrist to pull her onto his lap, no matter how much pain it caused him. "You needed sleep, it's fine. But I need to talk to you and it can't wait."

"I mean, it's kind of sweet that you left the hospital just because you wanted to talk", she admitted, the smallest smile on her lips. Still, she was worried about him, his health. "I assume it's about Julia? Tara already told me she's not your new girlfriend", Randi told him softly as she played with the hem of his white shirt. "But why was she there then, Hap? There has to be more."

"But there isn't. There's nothing between Julia and me, little girl", Happy croaked firmly, his uninjured arm wandering around her waist. "She wants more, but I've told her a thousand times that I'm not looking."

"But you slept with her." Randi caught her lower lip between her teeth, her eyes slowly meeting Happy's. "How many times? How long did that go on?"

"You really wanna do this now?", Happy asked, suddenly looking just as tormented as Randi. Hurting her was the last thing he wanted. "You just took off, and eventually I had to get rid of my frustration. So, a few months. Nothing serious, but sometimes I just needed someone next to me and fuckin' pretend that it was you."

"Okay", Randi breathed, appreciating that he was honest instead of lying to her. Still, it hurt. "Iᅳ shit, I know it's my own fault, but I hate the thought of another woman getting so close to you."

"Hey." Happy grabbed her jaw, pulling her head a little closer. So close that he could rest his forehead against hers. "I'll never want another woman, but I didn't know if you'd come back."

"I don't blame you, Happy, I really don't", she sniffed, her lips brushing his. "I wasn't entirely innocent in Seattle myself. I tried to get you out of my system somehow but it didn't help, you were always there, always in my mind."

"You slept with someone?" Happy's eyes darkened, all his muscles tensing under her delicate touch.

But who was he to get upset now? He had slept with another woman himself, more than once. But the thought of another man having his dirty hands on his womanᅳ he hated it.

Randi nodded almost shyly. "Yeah, with Steven. But it was only once andᅳ"

Happy raised a hand, his eyebrows drawn together, clearly not thrilled. "Steven. Your boss Steven?"

Randi nodded again, followed by a sigh as her gaze was fixed on Happy, whose face she cupped in her hands. "But just as Julia means nothing to you, he means nothing to me."

"Does he know that, too?", Happy asked, letting out a huff. But again, he had no right to be angry.

"Yeah, we both didn't make a big deal out of it", Randi shot back sternly, shifting until she was sitting properly on his lap and could face him. "It was a mistake, a desperate decision to forget you. And it didn't work, nothing worked."

Happy ran a hand over his face and turned his head away, but Randi's grip was stronger, almost possessive. "Please Happy, think about giving us another chance and I swear to God that I won't ruin it again."

"We talked about this, Miranda", Happy shot back, but he couldn't deny that he was slowly softening under her pleading gaze. "A long distance relationship? That's not what I want, and neither do you if you're honest with yourself."

Randi let her hands sink, only to place them on his chest, the next words hard for her. But she knew this was her only shot. "What if I stay?"

Happy's gaze shot back to her immediately as the words were spoken, hanging heavy in the air, his scrutinizing gaze studying her. "Are you serious about this? No games, woman."

"No games, I mean it", she promised sincerely, holding her arms up. "I want this, you. And if that's the only way...then so be it."

As soon as she had finished her sentence, Happy's hands flew to her face, holding it tightly in before he pulled her head further down and let his lips crash against hers, the kiss rough and raw but still full of affection.

She found a brief moment to breathe, already panting as she clutched his shirt. "Happyᅳ"

"Just shut up", Happy croaked back, not giving her a chance to doubt the whole thing.

He just wanted to feel her before they'd have the next serious conversation that could change Randi's mind again. But if the accident had taught him one thing, it was that he didn't want to waste any more time.

He wouldn't let Randi leave again.

[dallianceangel]

𝐌𝐢𝐝𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 🍫🌃

here's another soft happy fic, i hope you enjoy x

🍫 comments, likes and reblogs are highly appreciated 🍫

You sneak into the kitchen at 1AM, wearing nothing but Happy's SAMCRO shirt, craving something sweet to eat. The club is under lockdown, and snacks are limited.

“What time is it?” Happy mumbles, rubbing at his sleepy eyes as he leans against the door frame.

“Go back to bed, babe,” you whisper in response. “I'm just looking for some snacks.”

He grumbles before walking back to his dorm. Snacks are nowhere to be found, so you follow behind him. It's not until you're fully comfortable that he remembers.

“There's a box of candy underneath the bed.”

You leap into action.