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midnight-serendipity · 1 year

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Better than the Fantasy: Chapter Three

Pairing: Jax Teller x Female OC (AU - Older Man, Younger Woman, College Girl, Secret Identity)

Rating M: (Sexual Content, Violence, Swearing, Mentions of Drugs, Mentions of Alcoholism, Mentions of Marital Issues)

Synopsis: Freshly exonerated and newly-minted president, Jax feels out of touch with everything around him, and somewhere amid the hullaballoos, he lands himself in an online site, enticed with the company of a masked stranger, who unknowingly had closer ties to the club than both of them could have ever guessed.

Word count: 7.7k

Chapter 3: Lace and String

Observant blue eyes rounded the table, taking in the set of somber faces surrounding it. Gone was the jubilant air that swirled around the clubhouse three nights ago. In its stead was a heavier, despondent mood. The club president didn’t need a mirror; he knew he reflected his brothers’ expressions. He sighed, just before his blues passed a not-so-new addition to the table. There, sandwiched between Happy and Juice, and looking a helluva lot like he’s just brought home the gold was Kip. Yeah, Jax heard he got patched while some of them were in Stockton.

That’s some good news for a change.

He didn’t know how many church meetings the kid had already been to. Judging by the all-too-pleased smile that certainly looked out of place, Jax guessed not much. Stifling a laugh, he moved on with his scrutiny.

Despite the Antarctic treatment from his girlfriend, Jax slept like a baby Friday night. Thanks to Gemma’s pep talk. Feeling like they were all in need of a much-deserved rest, the prez decided to push church further. Not that he reaped any wins from his own good deed. With Tara very much hung-up on her ice throne the whole weekend, Jax decided to shift his sights back to the club. With each new day, the gears of his brain drove themselves to exhaustion as he struggled to weave the threads of his thoughts into something bigger – clearer. And as each day ended, it took with it a little of the bravado he earned Friday night. So much that when he woke up this morning, that air of confidence swirling within his veins was flatter than a popped balloon.

Fuckin’ hell. What do I bring to the table?

And that was when his hopes started spiraling downhill. Down to the cold tiles of his bathroom. Because what kind of president held his very first church with no agenda?

Jax Fuckin’ Teller it seemed.

Although it wasn’t because he didn’t know what he wanted for the club – that was actually the easiest, simplest part. Going back two years ago, it was still clear as day how he had first brought in talks about the club getting out of guns. Not everyone was swayed with the notion. But their then-VP was confident that eventually, he could get the whole table to his side.

That, however, was before the whole of Charming PD swarmed into their clubhouse like bees to honey and had the half of them cuffed. Now, still reeling with the aftermath, Jax was clueless as a newborn bub. Not only did his plans crash and burn to the ground faster than a Boeing gone defunct, but all avenues in his pocket were already as outdated as Unser.

Then, there was the Cartel and he knew a simple sorry ese wasn’t going to cut it with them.

But even if he didn’t know where to begin this time around and even if his ideas kept going in circles, he owed it to everyone in this room to try. Again, his eyes surveyed the room, this time meeting each of his brothers’ gazes. One by one they tipped their chins in silence. In trust. In blind faith.

And that was the fuel to his fire.

He let out an exhale and straightened in his chair, placing his palms on the table. “First thing I wanna say is congratulations to our brother Half-Sack for gettin’ the patch.”

The entire room erupted in cheers. Tig, Chibs, Kozik, Happy and Juice drummed their right hands on the table, while Bobby just reached over and clapped Kip on the back.

“You’re lucky I wasn’t here, you sorry sack o’shit. I woulda voted no.”

Opie’s shoulders shook as he chuckled, while Jax shook his head in amusement at Tig’s declaration. Ever the sport, Kip just waved him off with his hand.

“A’ight, calm down you animals.” Jax called out. “Now each of us here are all aware of what happened the past two years. We’ve all taken hits, all because of the man who used to sit in this chair.”

And just like that the momentary uplift was sucked out of the room. Inevitably, Jax’s gaze was drawn straight forward. He watched as a dark look shadowed Piney’s face and gave him a nod. Everyone knew he and Gemma swallowed the most bitter pill than the rest of them.

“But I want to thank you all, especially – Opie, Chibs, Happy, Piney and Kozik, for lookin’ after the club.” Another round of cheers echoed. “Before some of us went to Stockton, I told the club we should move outta guns. I still feel the same way and after everything that’s happened, I know this is the best time for SAMCRO to finally act on it. The money is great. But givin’ it a closer look, we barely earn anythin’ and with the cartel loomin’, the threat to us is greater than ever. I want us out of guns and if it was up to me SAMCRO woulda been out of it way before.” He paused, meeting each and every single pair of orbs. He caught Bobby’s smirk of smug approval, Piney’s tip of head and the proud tilt of Opie’s mouth.

“But I am not and will never be Clay. Even if I feel this is what’s best for the club, I will never take your right to vote. If you ask me right now how I’m planning to do that, I’m gonna be honest with ya – I don’t have a fucking clue yet. But just because nuthin’s set in stone yet doesn’t mean it’s not gonna happen. Because I really believe we can move past that. But only…only if you all want that as well.” Jax paused just to let all of that sink in. Seeing some gestures that he was sure were sloping towards the affirmative, he took a little breath then went on.

“We can vote on that later on. Now for the cartel,” Jax shifted, right elbow on the arm of his chair and tipped his chin to the left before resting it on his thumb and forefinger. “Bring us up to speed, VP.”

After taking a drag from his stick, Opie motioned for the lone ashtray from his father who was nearest to it and snuffed the light out. “With half of SAMCRO in Stockton, we were forced to honor the cartel’s demands and hauled their cargo. We always made sure we were in twos. Safer that way. None of us liked it, but –”

“Best way to keep the blood out of Charming.”

Opie nodded an agreement to Bobby.

“With only four of us to mule, they okay’d to just half of what Clay had agreed to.”

“How gracious of ‘em,” Tig muttered sarcastically, drawing grins and chuckles of the same nature from ‘round the table.

“But none us ‘ere privy to that agreement.” Chibs aired what was floating on everyone’s mind.

“Oh, they know that brother, they just don’t give a shit.” Opie huffed.

“Because that’s the point, son. None of us are supposed to know.” Piney pointed out.

“Yeah, we know, Pop.” Opie shifted, turning his attention to the head of the table. “Torres ‘n Parada came by last week, knew you were gettin’ out.

Lighting up his own cigarette, Jax stiffened and his brows furrowed. This was news to him. He puffed, letting the smoke billow out of his mouth. “TM?”

It was Happy who answered. “Cara Cara.”

“Jesus.”

“Yeah. Spooked Lyla and the girls.” Opie shook his head. Displeasure was evident on his face as he recalled witnessing a smug Parada with an arm around his uncomfortable old lady.

“What they say?”

“They wanna talk to you, go back to the original arrangements.”

“They know this is just a temporary thing for us.” Bobby retorted with a slanted brow.

“That’s why they want to speak with the prez, convince him of a more permanent setting.” Opie answered.

“’S not gonna happen.” Jax spoke with finality and an air of authority that could only come from the holder of the gavel. An action that didn’t go unnoticed by the oldest member of the club. Piney smirked in approval.

Jax rubbed his free hand down his face and took a long pull from his stick. His eyes landed at the middle of their table. They remained silent, giving him a needed moment to gather his thoughts. Then with another breath, he focused on his best friend.

“They finally say who helped Clay mule? The load they want, ain’t no way Clay was movin’ alone.”

“Nah.”

“Our guess is Cacuzza. He’s always wanted to venture on narcotics,” Chibs piped in.

“He answered any of our calls?” At the shake of heads, Jax felt a crippling hit. But he shook the tendrils of disappointment that started to weave in his chest. He needed to unravel the truth first before drawing up conclusions. “How ‘bout the Mayans? Heard anythin’ ‘bout them?”

“They’re in Lodi mostly. They’re wantin’ to branch out.”

Jax released a breath of smoke. “Still? So they haven’t yet?”

Opie smirked. “Darby bailed.”

“Alvarez is damn pissed.” Kozik chuckled, contagious to most of them.

Brows deeply furrowed, Jax shifted in his chair, surprised by this turn of events. Around two months ago, word through the grapevine was Darby had partnered with the Mayans. It stirred things up and caused quite the unrest, particularly with the Chinese and the Niners.

In his mind, this latest move didn’t make sense. Even before his latest imprisonment, he recalled how keen Darby was to associate himself with someone or someones who had quite the pull and weight on the streets. Particularly any that could match SAMCRO in either brains or brawn. The way Darby saw it, this was the guaranteed opening for his inky tentacles to coil inside Charming. This reasoning was what led Jax to anticipate the Mayans with no mistake.

So why the hell would Darby turn? Unless…

“Lemme guess, the supplier Darby was supposed to hook ‘em up with was a flake.”

“Aye.”

Jax tilted his head to his SAA. In the dimly lit room, Jax’s eyes glinted and even if he tried, he couldn’t refrain from smirking. A silver lining, if anything. “Good thing we know of a reliable pipeline.”

Chibs stiffened beside him. “Jackie, d’you think that’s a good idea? Mayans have beef with us –”

“Alvarez and Clay had beef. Not the Sons and the Mayans. I think it’s time we reach out to Alvarez, let him know there’s a new regime now.”

“D’you think they’ll meet with us?” Juice asked.

Jax breathed another drag from his stick. “We could always ask Nero to set up the meet.”

“And if he doesn’t agree?”

By the smirk on Tig’s lips, Jax could tell he already knew the answer to his own question. “Then we rope in Gemma.”

“Good luck sayin’ no to the artillery.” Another round of chuckles filled the room at Opie’s statement.

“We could get a feel on where the Mayans land on all these first, then we make the call to the Kings.” Collective nods were directed his way.

“Now before we get to the vote. I need you all to understand, if we do decide to move away from guns, we’re sayin’ goodbye to the club’s bread n’ butter for the past decades and our finances will probably hurt from that. I need you to take that in before we vote. But first, speakin’ of finances, heard our resident weirdo wants to share sumthin’ with the club.” Jax tipped his chin to Kip. Kip stood up and stepped out without question, he was after all, the first one Chucky approached.

Tig rubbed a hand down his face. “Maybe he’s goin’ to tell us he’s part leprechaun.”

Opie brought it to his ear – Chucky wanted to speak to the Club about finances, when he was asked about it however, he said he wanted to wait for the prez and the rest of the club. Jax admittedly had a slew of names reserved for Chucky. But Jax did admire him for his respect for him and the club. The door swung open again, as Kip swept in, followed by Chucky, each of them hauling massive duffle bags.

Jax killed his smoke and looked around. He was met with equally stunned faces.

Opie stood up, towering over everyone. “What the hell – ”

Zip.

“There are still two bags in my dorm. But each has fifty grand in them, so that’s two hundred in all.”

They were all on their feet even before Chucky finished his explanation. All of them staring at the open bag, with wide disbelieving eyes. Because just as he said, the bag was overflowing with stacks of hundred-dollar bills.

“Jesus, all real,” Bobby passed the wad of cash he fished and inspected. Jax took it with no hesitation and examined it the way Bobby had, Chibs and Tig both curiously looking over his shoulders.

“Yes, it is,” Jax confirmed, awed, passing it to Ope.

“I think you’re wrong, Tig. Chucky’s not part leprechaun. He is THE leprechaun you sonuvabitch! C’mere!” Kozik exclaimed, pulling Chucky into a one-armed hug.

“Hey! Don’t maul him yet. We’re gonna need some answers first.” Jax called out. Kozik immediately let go of Chucky.

“A’ight,” palms on the table, Jax leaned in and eyed Chucky, looking every bit the investigator. “As pleased as I am with cash suddenly sproutin’ in the clubhouse, I need to know where this,” he tilted his head, “came from. And no, I am not buyin’ the leprechaun shit.”

Chucky very visibly gulped and Jax hoped it’s only because of him and the three Reaper kuttes standing closest to their president while they all stared him down, and not because of something else.

“Well, you remember the night Clay left?”

Unintentionally, Jax’s nostrils flared. Of course, he remembered. That was the night leading to the day of their arrest. The night Clay almost, almost got Gemma killed with his bare hands.

“Of course,” Jax replied with venom in his voice. He didn’t mean to. But he understood perfectly why Chucky recoiled a bit at that.

“Hey, don’t worry,” Juice suddenly materialized beside Chucky and drew an arm around him. “We won’t beat you up unless we have to,” Juice grinned.

“That’s…reassuring.”

“What about that night Chucky?” Opie stepped in. He knew he needed to take the reins. Leaving it to Jax might send Chucky straight to a coronary before they could get anything sensible out of him.

“I was in Gemma’s office, finishing an errand for her. I just shut the lights off when I saw her SUV coming back. I assumed it was her, but when I saw Clay got out, I hid. Something didn’t feel right. He went to the garage, came back out with two bags and went inside again for the other two. He just finished loading everything when Gemma arrived.”

Jax straightened up, arms crossed and teeth clenched. He knew what part was coming. He’s heard it many times. Didn’t make it any easier.

They were all supposed to be out for a gun delivery. Clay, claiming his hands made it difficult to ride, said he couldn’t make the four-hour travel. No alarm bells were triggered as he stayed back, they knew his hands had been acting up as of late and Jax easily stepped in as acting president. The cortisone was barely doing anything anymore – at least that was what he said. Unknown to them, he set out for a meet of his own. Borrowed Gemma’s SUV, on the ruse of dropping by Unser’s office.

It took them a couple of days after that to get the truth ironed out. But Gemma was ahead of them. Although her theory was off some points, still she figured out something was amiss before anyone else did. Turned out, he had been borrowing her vehicles quite some time already and her assumption was a mistress. She placed a tracker in all her wheels, and that night, Gemma thought was the perfect timing to confront him, with the sons out and Piney helping Lyla watch over the kids – no blood will be shed.

“They were busy fighting and the trunk was still open, so I took a peek in the bags. With all of you away, I knew it wasn’t club business. And when I found out it was real money, I moved fast, grabbed them and emptied them in the garage.”

“And Clay didn’t notice that the load was much lighter?” Piney asked, unconvinced.

“He didn’t check it again. And…it actually might have been a little heavier. I replaced it with some tools and bike parts –”

“The missing supplies!” Kip exclaimed.

Jax pictured it. He remembered Sack going on about some supplies TM ordered a week prior to that, that had suddenly vanished into thin air. But with Gemma unconscious in the hospital bed and Clay suspiciously MIA – that had been the least of his worries, even more so when David Hale dropped by with his minions, a warrant on hand.

“And Clay never saw you?” Opie pushed, still quite unsold on the idea.

“Well, he was,” his eyes darted to Jax quickly then back to Opie, “busy.”

Jax snarled, making Chucky flinch. “You mean to tell me, that not only did you have this cash lyin’ ‘round for two years, but you also let Clay pound my mom’s face as distraction?”

“Look, Jax, what was I supposed to do? I can’t throw a punch like you guys. If I interfered, I would have been worse off than Gemma. I just thought I could retaliate in a more effective way. Y’know absolute advantage.”

Put like that, Jax did see from his perspective. While not stock thin as Rat, Clay would have definitely snapped him like a toothpick. Besides, what best way to hurt Clay the most than to take what he worked hard for, right under his very nose. He just wished he witnessed Clay’s face when the rug under his feet was pulled.

“Does make sense,” Bobby echoed Jax’s thoughts, then added, “but why are you only telling us now?”

“I did want to tell the club the next day. But – ” Chucky tipped his head side-to-side, reminding Jax of an upside-down pendulum.

“Yeah we get it – ” Jax replied

Chucky nodded, “Then when you guys got framed, I guessed that was cartel money. So, I hid it and decided to show it at a safer time.

“Where yeh hide it?”

“Ah, I may have asked Unser to hold on to it. Said it was a Club favor.”

Again, Jax’s eyebrows jumped. There were whistles – Juice, Opie and Chibs, while Tig slowly shook his head in time with his hands clapping. Chucky smiled and gave out a breath of relief. He knew he was off the hook.

“Chucky, you are turnin’ me on right now.”

This time, it was Chucky’s eyebrows that went through the roof. “I don’t accept that.” He said with a shake of his head.

“Oi, don’t scare ‘im off.”

“What?” Tig asked Chibs with his palms open. “It’s not like I’m not gonna use some lube and I’mma make sure he gets off too.”

Chucky cringed “I still don’t accept that”.

Tig opened his mouth but Jax cut him off easily, with a finger pointed his way. “Knock it off Tiggy. Go rub one out and stop traumatizin’ people.”

“As for you,” Jax went to Chucky and laid his hands on his shoulders. He tipped his chin, “Go tell my mom we’re givin’ you a raise.”

When her eyes crossed while going over one line of the purchase order she was currently reviewing, Gemma knew it was time to call it a day. She dropped the document on her desk, pursing her lips. Despite TM being open all days of the week, Gemma still found truth to Monday being the shittiest.

Gemma removed her glasses and massaged her eyes with the heel of her palms. Fuckin’ piece of shit lighting.

Well, totally her fault for putting it off. Definitely need to have it replaced. She stood up and stretched. Her back echoed with a series of cracks. And this shit of a chair too.

“Dammit is everythin’ here a piece of crap?” Gemma turned around, taking each item in inventory. It had been a while since she put in more than her usual work hours, and definitely more than a while since she observed every little thing in this room. Her musings were disrupted by a loud, unmistakable roar of a Harley Davidson speeding towards the garage. Curious, she turned and opened the door of the office.

The biker still had his back to her while he parked and killed the engine. But he didn’t need to turn around in order for Gemma to know who it was. The blonde streaks peeking underneath the helmet was more than enough of an indicator. Propping her hip against the doorframe, Gemma glanced at her watch.

7:09 PM

Luann was seriously late. But that wasn’t important. No. Right now, what’s essential for her was to figure out what her son was doing back at TM. Jax and the rest of SAMCRO parted ways for the day just around four o’clock this afternoon and with all of them still occupied with their personal shit, she knew his return wasn’t club related. Plus – Gemma’s eyes narrowed into slits – that backpack, that wasn’t there when he left, triggered the alarms in her head. When he finally unfastened his helmet and turned around, spotting her for the first time since his arrival, Jax very visibly groaned, strengthening her theory further.

Well, glad to see you too shithead.

She tipped her head to the office and turned on her heel.

Jax had to do a double take of the lot. But no, he wasn’t going mental – Gemma’s SUV was indeed nowhere to be found. So why the hell was his mother still here?

Once again, Jax could only groan. After his row with Tara, he didn’t have enough energy to deal with the Russian Roulette incarnate. But he’ll be damned much more if he didn’t follow her. Stepping foot into the small confinement, Jax felt he was heading to his execution as he was met with Gemma leaning onto the table, her arms crossed, and face seemingly carved in stone.

“Where’s your truck?”

“I had Rat and Kip take it home. Luann’s gonna pick me up for dinner.” She tipped her chin, “my assistant manager came in here, sayin’ we’re givin’ him a raise.”

“Yeah,” Jax answered, “fifteen percent seems fair. We can cut five each from TM, Diosa and Cara Cara. Whaddaya think?”

“He’s employed by TM only. He just likes to loiter.” Gemma pointed out.

“So? C’mon, Ma, work your magic. I’m sure it’s just like launderin’,” Jax asked, irritated.

Gemma sighed. Before he pitched the idea to the table, she was the first one he told that he wanted the club out of guns. It made sense. But with this kind of thinking, Gemma wondered how fast these dickheads would make a legit business go belly-up. It seemed she needed to sit them all down for a talk of some sort.

Businesses tend to do that shit.

Jax nodded dropping his pack on the ratty couch. He felt his mom’s eyes on him as he sat down. He propped his elbows on his knees, hands clasping together as he looked up and met Gemma’s stare. She raised an eyebrow.

“Are you gonna tell me, or are you gonna make me ask?”

Jax rubbed his hands over his face then sighed, resuming his previous position. This was the part of the conversation he knew he won’t be able to tiptoe his way around. “Just need to put some distance between me and Tara.”

Gemma huffed, raising both her hands in disbelief, before landing on her hips. She straightened, stepping away from the table, she strutted towards him and left only a few inches in between, forcing Jax to lean back and raise his head.

“Look, Ma, s’not a big deal.”

And maybe those were the wrong words to say as Gemma’s eyes sharpened, and if there was truth to the phrase if looks could kill, they’ll be holding his funeral tomorrow.

“Not a big deal my ass, Jackson!” Gemma exclaimed, completely rebutting his attempts at defusing. “Before you went inside, I watched this happen almost every day. That was two years ago. Are you tellin’ me that’s how it’s gonna be again? –”

“ – ”

“ – ‘Coz if you think that’s in any way normal, I’m tellin’ you it’s not, and it ain’t acceptable either. You haven’t even been back for a week!” Gemma finished in one breath, ignoring his mouth that slid open during her tirade.

“You done? Can I say somethin’?” Jax demanded more than asked, not bothering to mask his annoyance.

It was times like this that had him wondering if his mom was truly one and the same person, because he was having one helluva difficult time believing this tyrant was also the same person who comforted him in the rooftop just a few nights ago. It made him remember a way, way younger version of him asking if his mom’s ability to do a three-sixty in a drop of a hat was normal. The ear-pinch that followed convinced him to never ask that again – at least when she was in hearing range.

“Look, Ma, I know it’s not normal, alright? Why d’you think I choose to stay in my dorm?”

Gemma’s arms crossed, frosty gaze still focused on him. “You tell me, sweetheart. ‘Coz last I checked, I paid half of that house as a gift to you and not to Tara!”

“So what am I s’pposed to do?” Jax asked, arms wide open. “‘Coz I don’t think havin’ her sleep in the clubhouse is the right thing to do here.”

“Then have her check in at a hotel – Jesus Christ, why is this our problem?” Gemma threw her hands up looking way beyond exasperated.

“Because she’s still my girlfriend!” Jax bellowed.

Gemma stilled for a moment and raised an eyebrow. All of a sudden a smile that looked nothing short of triumphant slowly spread on her face, hands on her hips once more “Well, I don’t care sweetheart. In my book you pay for it, it’s yours. S’your right to stay in there and not hers.”

Jax sighed, running a hand through his hair. Gemma was only saying these because she never approved of Tara. If it was any other given day, she and Luann will be preaching how they should be treating their women with more respect. But whatever. The beginning of a throbbing in his temples was a telltale sign of an unforgiving headache if this dragged any longer. He had to switch gears.

He stood up, reaching for Gemma’s shoulders. “Look, Ma, I know you’re only lookin’ out for me, and I really appreciate it. But it’s not helpin’, so why don’t you just let me handle my shit with Tara, a’ight?”

The icy chill that resurfaced on her orbs made it known to him that he should have worded it out much carefully and differently. Shit.

“ – ”

“Knock knock, doll you ready to – Oh, hey Jax,” Luann’s smile dimmed as her eyes slid between the mother-son duo. “Is everythin’ alright? Sorry, am I –”

“Everything’s fine, sweetheart,” Gemma answered, smoothly stepping out of Jax’s hold, taking the time to put a smile on her face as she flipped her bangs with the tips of her fingers.

Jax could only follow her lead, mourning the lost chance of redeeming himself. He’ll try to find it later, preferably with no bystander. No undeserving soul needed to be within Gemma’s sights when on a warpath. He finally turned to Luann, taking her in.

She was wearing fitted jeans and tucked into it was a white – or maybe silver – button down made from a shimmery, silky material. The top few buttons undone. She had a blazer on top of it, and finished the look with a pair of ankle boots. He heard about it from his mom. Apparently, the porn director had been making a fuss about her wardrobe recently, saying she needed to upgrade – whatever the hell that meant – it now that Cara Cara was said to be rising up the ranks in the industry.

But if this was upgrading, Jax had to admit it was doing her wonders.

“Hey, Lu,” Jax motioned to the newcomer with his left hand. Luann took the invitation with gusto, fitting into his side easily as he wrapped an arm around her.

“You look great,” Gemma said.

“Thanks,” Luann smiled.

“Amelia?”

Instantly Luann’s face brightened as she nodded. Jax frowned in curiosity, juggling his memory for an Amelia.

“Who’s Amelia?” he asked in surrender when he didn’t find any.

“Oh, she’s my niece. She’s good with clothes.” She explained with delight.

Jax removed his hold on Luann, crossing both arms on his chest instead as he took a step back, content to be a fly on the wall as the two women talked. With the way her eyes lit up as she proudly talked more about her niece helping with – again – the upgrading of her closet to an interested Gemma, Jax guessed this Amelia was something special to Luann.

“She’s got great taste,” Gemma hummed.

“That she does. Otto’s loving the recent changes with my outfits as well.”

“Oh right, you had your conjugal –”

Jax snorted, and maybe he should have held it in. Because in his opinion once a month was still too few a chance to get laid. Well, not that he was getting much action aside from his own hand lately. But…

Best to leave that detail unannounced.

“What?” Luann asked puzzled.

Jax shook his head. “That’s why you look fresh. You got fertilized.”

Luann’s eyes rounded. “Oh, you are such a prick,” she threw a punch out. But Jax was already anticipating it, moving on reflex he just easily sidestepped and moved out of harm’s way.

“Tell me about it. He seems to be havin’ a field day.” Gemma sassed.

“Oh, c’mon Ma –”

“Hey, Gemma –”

Jesus, was this let’s interrupt Jax day?

They all looked to the direction of the voice, finding Chucky peeking from the door leading to the garage.

“Yeah?”

“Sorry, I know we’re closed but it’s important,” he said, looking every bit as apologetic as he sounded. “Phone. Wilkins. Subaru.”

“Of course, he calls right now after I waited the whole day,” Gemma fell into step and moved to the side.

“Oh, you can transfer it here Jax and I will just –”

“Nah, it’s okay. You two just keep chattin’ I’ll take it here”

Luann turned around after Gemma disappeared. “What’s that about?”

“Nuthin’”

Luann looked at him pointedly. “Really?”

“Just you know, Gemma bein’ Gemma.”

“Hmm. How’re things at home?”

He should’ve known it was pointless to try to keep Luann at arm’s length. At certain times, the woman was just as bad as his mother when prying. Although a milder version. Thankfully.

“Tense.”

“I guess that’s what you were arguing about?”

“Yeah”

She drew an arm around him and rubbed his back. The same way his mother would. “What’s wrong sweetie?”

He shrugged. “I guess we’re just not seein’ eye to eye lately.”

Luann nodded in understanding. “Y’know, your mother doesn’t like being ignored.”

Jax snorted. “Tell me sumthin’ I don’t know.”

Luann just smiled again and shook her head. “Well, you better get ahead of that ‘coz I’m afraid that’s gonna bite you in the ass sooner than later. But what I’m sayin’ is, maybe your mom has been makin’ a point ‘bout you and Tara, but you haven’t been listening to her. I mean when was the last time you referred to Tara as your old lady?”

Jax stiffened, surprise evident on his features.

It was one of the things that often knocked on his conscience, and honestly still quite a mystery when in particular it happened. But every time he tried, the image of Lyla and Tara tending to a wounded Tig would flit in his mind. Tara with the eyes and hands of a surgeon, was methodical and precise in her approach. He remembered watching from the sides as she worked, impressed. After all if it weren’t for her skill and knowledge, they would’ve certainly needed to rush Tig to the ER. Lyla was her second pair of hands, working under her lead and supervision. She didn’t have the same expertise under her belt, but she certainly made up in instinct, and each of her movement didn’t escape Jax’s eyes – each smile, each word and each pass of her fingers coated with abundant care, grace and empathy.

He looked to Opie then, correctly predicting the proud look he had while observing his wife. Well shit, who wouldn’t be? Then his gaze drifted to his own girl. Maybe if Tara could learn to at least respect the life, she’ll be good enough to be an old lady too.

Immediately, the guilt was like a viper that slithered up his spine – swift and unrelenting.

The life they led was hard, and Jax was only on the cusp of sixteen when he discovered that while the Reaper kuttes took the frontline, much of the heavy lifting were quietly – and often unnoticed – supported by their women. Their unsung heroes. With that thought in mind, he knew it was unfair and unreasonable to ask Tara to fall in love with the kutte on the snap of a finger. But even so, that wasn’t the last time the comparisons between her and Lyla reared its ugly head. Yet he made sure he never shared it with anyone. Not even Opie and especially not Gemma – Oh shit.

Because she’s still my girlfriend.

Talk about a major slip up. To his mother most of all. Jax cringed, “You heard that?”

Luann’s brows pinched, drawing back a little. “Heard what?”

“A while ago, ain’t that what this is about?” Jax asked, now looking equally as lost as Luann.

Luann’s brows jumped to her forehead. “Oh – Christ, no. I didn’t hear anythin’ you and your mom were discussin’ a while ago. Believe me. But t’was easy to tell you two were buttin’ heads again. I guessed it’s ‘bout Tara so I just put my two cents in.” She said with a shrug.

If the open mouth was enough indication, Jax was clearly floored. So Luann took that as her cue to keep quiet, unknown to her the gesture was deeply appreciated. Because right that very moment, Jax felt as stupefied as he looked.

That his and Tara’s relationship status was an open book, was an understatement – and their readers were the whole of SAMCRO and everyone closely affiliated to it. If anyone asked, they could give a rundown of his relationship better than Jax ever could. Because what he was once so sure of, now felt like a thousand-piece puzzle, with some pieces missing. Yet in spite of this – all the noises, the questions and the doubts – he made sure to never share those and just keep them deep within his kutte.

So how, how was it that something he guarded so closely, escape him so casually, and without his knowledge?

“Oh hun,” Luann cooed, resuming the comforting rub she had on his back as she spotted the troubled look shadowing his face, “don’t beat yourself up over it. S’just my opinion and I certainly can’t speak for Tara, but maybe she’s –”

“PMSing.”

Before they knew it, Gemma was in front of them again, focused once more on the papers strewn on the top of her desk and completely oblivious to the disapproving scowl on Luann’s face and Jax’s head tilted to the side, frowning in curiosity. He’s pretty sure he’s heard that term somewhere before.

“What’s PMSing?”

Gemma’s hand froze before looking up. It was brief, but Luann saw it. And maybe Jax didn’t recognize it or maybe he wasn’t as much of an afficionado in decoding all things Gemma as she was. The comment was just offhanded – maybe even meant as a joke – but in just the flash of a second, she was confident a golden egg hatched in Gemma’s mind.

“It’s a condition common to women, comes out when we’re stressed and even hurtin’ over somethin’. You should talk to her ‘bout it. It’ll help.”

To his credit, Jax looked skeptical. But Luann could tell he knew he was in a catch 22. Because who in the club could ever classify as a decent source of PMS information?

“Right,” Jax gave a nod.

“Anyway, we’re ‘bout to head out. You want me to get you anythin’?” Gemma asked, picking up her purse and walked over to him and Luann.

“Nah. You two drive safe, alright?” Jax said, reaching out to give a kiss to his mom’s and Luann’s cheeks.

The two women walked to Luann’s car and just as the blonde, biker president was out of earshot, Luann rounded on Gemma.

“PMS really?”

“What?”

“You know what type of conversation usually occurs when you ask a raging girlfriend that. Besides I thought you agreed not to interfere in their relationship anymore.”

Gemma tsked, heading for the passenger side “’M not interferin’. I think it would do him some good actually. It’s time he learned somethin’ ‘bout the female body aside from fucking it.”

Luann shook her head, sighing as she trailed behind her shit stirring friend. Maybe there was a point to be made in that. But…

Oh well, can’t say I didn’t warn Jax.

When was the last time you referred to Tara as your old lady?

Jesus Christ! Jax sat up, running a hand down his face.

Upon arriving at his dorm, he removed his kutte and laid down right away. But how the hell was he supposed to sleep when his mind refused to cooperate?

It didn’t help that his gut churned every single time Luann’s question resurfaced. Jax needed to sleep, otherwise he’d be a fucking zombie. He needed something to calm him down. Something mindless. A distraction.

He got up and walked out of his dorm, stalking towards their lone IT person. He was still perched on the barstool, just as he was when Jax saw him earlier.

“Hey, Juice.”

Juice looked away from the screen “Hey Jax, what’s up?”

Jax tipped his chin towards the laptop “You done soon?”

“Nah, Nero asked me to change some stuff on his site. Need sumthin’?”

“Can’t sleep thought I’d check Netflix.”

“Grab the one Chucky’s usin’. He’s still in the garage. Laptop’s in the kitchen.”

“Thanks,” Jax nodded.

“Everythin’ alright, bro?”

Jax was just about to turn around when Juice spoke. “Yeah, everything’s good.”

None of his brothers were stupid, and Juice was definitely no exception. Jax could see the doubt in his face. That he remained silent was appreciated by the club president. Juice just nodded so Jax went on to the kitchen, grabbed the laptop sitting idly on top of the table and went back to his dorm, keen to start with – hopefully – the peaceful part of his night. It didn’t take him long to fire up the beast as it was just in sleep, landing him straight to a paused video.

Curious, Jax hit play. Wonder what this weirdo’s into?

“Oh, Chucky!” A girl moaned.

Jax’s eyebrows jumped to his forehead. What the hell?

She was on a bed, only in her bra, the sheets giving a thin layer of privacy as it covered her from navel to toes. But no rocket science needed, her hand moving beneath the blanket was very straightforward.

“Jax!”

Jax turned to his door, a panting Chucky obviously in a hurry to reach him.

Jax stood up, running a hand down his face. “You let anyone see your girlfriend like this?” He scowled. Jax knew he didn’t have much leg to stand on here. It wasn’t like he was gunning for boyfriend of the year award but having your girl as a free-for-all was just a different kind of low.

“Oh, Sophie’s not my girl. I’m just a fan – subscriber.”

Having paced away from the direction of his bed, Jax paused mid-step and turned. “What?”

Chucky, collecting the laptop, halted and grinned “OnlyFans. C’mon I’ll show you.”

He seriously had no idea how he got strong-armed into this. All he wanted was a movie. And at one point, everything coming out of Chucky’s mouth was pure gibberish as he schooled him into this OnlyFans thing. His ears only perked up when Chucky started listing down the costs.

“I really think you should try it. C’mon what do you have to lose?”

His brows went to his hairline. “What do I have to lose? Whaddaya think, jackass? My money.”

Immediately Chucky recoiled like a puppy kicked in the gut. Jax’s guilt from earlier resurfaced tenfold, because really? Was this how he was gonna treat the man who went out on a limb for the club?

He sighed and waved a hand. “’M sorry Chucky, it’s just been a long ass day. And I think you’re right, I do need to try this.”

Chucky’s smile returned, megawatt. Jax hoped he wasn’t going to regret this.

“Alright, so first we need to set you up with an account. What username do you want?” Chucky tipped his head. “You can get creative, people often tend to be discreet.”

Well, I wonder why. He could only guess how it would go if Tara found out about this. Tara. Is this alright? Joining this site?

No matter the circumstances, they were still together, and Jax may admittedly have a colorful background, but cheater was one thing he didn’t want to add to that list. He rubbed a hand down his face.

“And if you’re worried about Tara, you can just stay away from the sex workers.”

Jax’s head swiveled to his left, a slow grin spreading on his face. The insightful bastard. “Yeah? So what kind d’you suggest I subscribe to?”

Chucky shrugged. “Influencers, bakers, whatever.”

In other words, things that Jax gave zero fucks about. Yeah, if this was ever unearthed, he could use those as excuses until he was blue in the face. Thing is, he wouldn’t fool even himself into believing it.

Jax almost groaned at the expectant look on Chucky’s face.

“How ‘bout you what’s your username?” He asked, stirring himself away from thoughts of his own grave. He could just give it three days then get outta there.

“Chucky,” Chucky answered.

Again, his eyebrows jumped. There was no telling if Chucky was kidding. Idiot only ever has one expression. “That’s you bein’ discreet?”

“Well, how many Chucky’s you know?”

“Fair enough. But ain’t no way I’m usin’ my own name.”

“Fair enough,” Chucky parroted, drawing an amused chuckle from the SAMCRO president. “How about Mr. Mayhem?”

Jax’s smile slid off his face. “You do know what Mr. Mayhem stands for right?”

Chucky winced. “Sorry, I thought it’d be cool. How about Reaper?”

“Basically, the same thing.”

“Right, how about – I got it!” Chucky’s fingers swept all over the keys, confident he’d thought of something Jax would like. To Chucky’s credit, as he showed the screen to a curious Jax, the blonde biker just gave a nod, impressed.

“Heh, I like it.”

It seemed fairly easy a while ago. Now left to his own devices, Jax was lost navigating this labyrinth of a site. Each damn button looked the same. And what was up with that long ass terms and conditions?

Do people really read that shit?

Jax was just about to give up when a video slid on the top of his screen. Sumthin’ like new videos? New suggestions? Both? Jax tried to recall what Chucky called them. But whatever, his attention was now drawn to the thumbprint.

It was a woman, wearing a sexy piece of lingerie. She was suspended, mid-air, hanging only by a pole, and Jax had absolutely no clue how she got there or how she managed to stay there. It looked like she was sitting, gripping the metal rod only by her thighs.

Strong thighs, he couldn’t help but notice. Her back was to the camera, with one hand idly on her hip, while the other was on the back of her blonde head, hair thrown over her left shoulder. Her head was angled slightly to the side, eyes peeking over her right shoulder, and with a smile for an invitation. She had a mask on, all lace and string. If somebody asked him right at that moment how she looked, he’d say – like a secret you want to unravel.

Unable to tear his eyes off, he clicked it. The video zoomed to the four corners of his screen and Jax’s heart hammered in anticipation. The video was dimly lit, but not of poor quality. The outline of her lithe body was still very visible. This time, as she waited for her cue, she was stood at the floor, then the chords of a familiar song, the inspiration behind her moniker were struck. Not the original, but still a tasteful choice.

She started to move and when her pace and the tempo picked up, it was like she wasn’t even dancing. It looked like she was flowing. And flying and floating – from one movement to the other, as smooth as a breeze, drifting from the floor and all over the pole in the sexiest pair of strappy heels he’s ever seen – that he wondered if there was someone behind holding her by the strings.

The way she moved – hypnotic. Magnetic. Alluring.

So when the prompt for a subscription came up, halting the current video, it was a no-brainer.

“The demarcation between different levels within the fashion market is becoming ever complicated and –”

Buzz.

Drawing a small line on the sentence, Amelia paused and welcomed the much-needed break from her reading. She adjusted her glasses and tapped her phone to life.

Meet your new fan…

Her eyebrows lifted along with the corners of her mouth.

MrPresident. Heh, that’s cute.

A/N: And I’ve been hit with another delay. But here’s chapter three with Amelia and Jax finally (unknowingly) meeting.

I did as much research as I could for OnlyFans. But I’m not a creator nor a subscriber for the site. I tried to make it as authentic as possible, but if anyone reading this who has been on the site find anything inaccurate, I apologize and I hope it won’t be too much of a bother.

To anyone who’s read and liked, thank you. Please leave a comment and/or reblog.

If you want to be added to my taglist, let me know or click here.

Thank you to @lovebarefootblonde for beta-reading for me and for being an awesome friend! 😘 To anyone new to Tumblr and are looking for Jax Teller AUs, go check out her works!

Taglist: @fullwattpadmusictree

#jax teller fanfiction #jax teller x oc #jax teller imagine #charlie hunnam fanfiction #charlie hunnam imagine #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy au #sons of anarchy fanfiction #sons of anarchy imagine #better than the fantasy #jax and amelia

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velvetsilkstar · 7 months

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Sons of Anarchy: Alternative Universe

No longer do the Sons have the God of death, the Reaper adorned on their cuts. Instead, the Sons have dedicated themselves to the Celtic God, Crom Dubh. They now ride as the Dullahan, fierce riders blessed by Crom Dubh for their devotion. The image of the headless horseman is now forever on their backs, and they are forever bound to Crom Dubh as Dullahan. They are now a club of devoted Warlocks who draw their magical abilities and protection from their new patron. However, not all of the Dullahan can ascend to the rank of a full Warlock to wield the full blessings of Crom Dubh's magic. Despite this, they are all faithful followers who show devotion through violent offerings and sacrifices.

Their dangerous underworld isn't just full of criminals but numerous other supernatural beings. Warring factions and familial secrets have led to the untimely death of their leader, Jax. All that remains of his family is Evie Imera, who was adopted into the family by Jax's mother, Gemma. Evie's parents passed when she was young, and Gemma, her godmother promised Evie's parents that she'd keep Evie far away from their criminal activities. With Gemma and Jax gone, Evie has been catipulted into the middle of a power struggle that may turn violent. From beyond the grave, Gemma calls out to her for revenge, and inside Evie something powerful and dark stirs, waiting to be released.

#soa au #sons of anarchy au #urban fantasy au #oc #worldbuilding #soa #sons of anarchy #folklore #dullahan #wip #coming soon

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artemiseamoon · 1 year

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Preview: Seven Years

Juice Ortiz & older sister! Oc

Words: 1,673

Summary: After 7 long years, Felisa finally tracks down her estranged brother Juan Carlos.

Warnings: abandonment, estranged family, personal struggles, a slap to the face, see prompts.

An: the amount of times I deleted then rewrote this one shot, I’ve been fighting with this one for over a year and a half now. Oh it’s been a journey! 🙄 I deleted it again last month, now here we are. I hate the direction the show took juice, so that was my spark for this. The storylines for him were so dumb, but I decided, what if he had an estranged sibling who finds him when he’s spiraling? What if their alters his fate?

Whumpril day 24: (queued to post day of, will be on A03 a day early) prompts: secrets, “what have you done?”

Below is a preview * read in full on A03

Earlier

Felisa shoved her hands in her pockets, bawling them into fists as she eyed the two men before her. This isn't the first time she’s seen bikers, but this is the first time she’s been up close. The rock in her gut continued to sink, getting heavier and heavier. Staying aware of the men before her, she also eyes the ones in the background.

If Juan is really here, she hates this for him. Why this? Why run off and merge with something like this? And from what she could see, they were all white, and what she heard about groups like this, makes it even weirder that this is where her brother chose to be.

New York City was far from perfect, their childhood wasn’t easy, but he left a melting pot of cultures and ended up here, this white ass town called Charming. There hasn’t been a single second of ease since she got here. Sure, people were friendly enough, she saw some people of color, but the numbers were almost nonexistent compared to the majority.

A biker gang is one thing, but an all-white biker gang. What was her brother thinking?

Read more on A03

More SOA

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@artemiseamoon-updates

A03: artemiseamoon

#juice ortiz #sons of anarchy au #juice and sister ofc #whumpril day 24

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writercole · 2 years

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Holding Out Hope

Squares: “Apologize right now” @anyfandomangstbingo // “Good. I meant it to hurt.” @anyfandomfluffbingo // Hurts To Breathe @badthingshappenbingo // Excessive Tense Switch @howbadcanitbebingo // Red Carpet Event Sons of Anarchy Bingo // “I wanted to leave him. I needed a reason” @taylorswiftbingo // Mutual Pining TMAS @supernatural-jackles Words: 3115 Warnings: mentions of cheating, assault (on a skank) Credits: The wonderful @princessmisery666 for being my sounding board and beta. A/N: Please don’t come at me for the tense switch. It’s for how bad can it be bingo!

You woke with a heaviness in your heart and a sinking feeling in your gut. You know it’s going to be a bad day but you didn’t anticipate the reason. You couldn’t if you tried. Grabbing your phone off of the nightstand, you trudged to the kitchen in your sleep shorts and tank top, finding your assistant, your publicist, and your bodyguard chatting in hushed tones over steaming cups of coffee.

“Did we really schedule a pow-wow this early?” you grumbled as you poured your own cup of caffeine, sipping the black nectar, and turning to face the three people who keep your life on track.

They share a glance, one that seemed to hold a lengthy conversation. Your bodyguard sighed and faces you with a sympathetic look.

“Some photos were released this morning. Of Jax,” he said, tentatively holding out his phone to you.

You eyed him suspiciously as you took it from his large, outstretched hand. As you refocused your gaze on the screen, you nearly dropped your mug. Your boyfriend of ten months was photographed with that slutty waitress from the diner in town, Ima. His hands tangled in her hair as she sucked his dick. Another showed him buried balls deep in her from behind as he fucked her against the wall of the alleyway behind the diner. Classy as ever.

You sucked in a deep breath and hand the phone back. “Okay. Opie, you’re driving me over to his house. Fiona, I want you with me. We’re going to draft a press release.”

“You’re sure about this?” your assistant, Venus, asked with a furrowed brow.

“I wanted to leave him. I needed a reason,” you replied coolly as you set your mug down. “Venus, I’m gonna need you to go through everything he has access to and revoke it. Take his name off of all of my upcoming events and guest lists. Get me an updated schedule of parties and events so that we can reconsider my attendance.”

“When do we leave?” Fiona questioned, her thick Irish accent comforting you slightly.

“Twenty minutes,” you stated plainly. You grabbed your coffee off the counter and nod at your team as you strut towards freedom.

By lunch, you were single again and seated at a private table in your favorite restaurant with your team, treating them to lunch for helping you out with so much trust and compassion. You truly didn’t know what you’d do without them.

“You have your movie premiere tomorrow,” Venus reminded you as you went over the details of your schedule.

“Shit. Guess I should see if anyone needs an extra ticket since I won’t have a date,” you sighed.

“Unless we find ye one,” Fiona smirked, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

“And how do you propose we do that, Fi? Everyone will be busy on such short notice.” You hope she didn’t suggest what you expected of her. She was the only one who knew about your crush on your bodyguard, her Irish motherly instincts picked up on it almost immediately.

“Well, we know one lad who was planning on being at the event anyway,” Fiona explained, “an’ I think it would be easier for him if he were on your arm instead of on the sidelines.” Fiona didn’t mention that she also knows about Opie having feelings for you, though he almost gave it away by the way he glanced between Fiona and you with wide eyes and a look of hopeful panic.

“What?” you squeaked, “you can’t think I’m going to force my bodyguard and friend to endure the cameras and paparazzi and questions.”

Opie’s shoulders sagged when you said ‘friend,’ even though he knew there wasn’t any other way to phrase it. He opened his mouth to offer to accompany you but Venus cut him off.

“Hon, we know it isn’t ideal but what other choice do you have? It’s either take someone you’re close to or go alone and let those reporters grill you about why Jax cheated on you,” she said quietly.

“That was harsh, Venus,” you chided.

“Good. I meant it to hurt,” she replied stubbornly. “It got your attention, didn’t it?”

“If I may,” Opie calls across the table, drawing the attention of all three women. “I could be your date. I’ll be there anyway. It’ll be fun to be able to hang out with you instead of being on the sidelines.”

You ducked your head to keep your composure, your heart wanting to burst at the idea of hanging out with Opie all night long. “Ope, I can’t ask you to do that,” you decline half-heartedly.

“You aren’t asking. I’m offering,” he shrugged.

“And I’m insisting,” Fiona interjects. “That’s settled. You’ll answer ‘no comment’ to all of the questions, have a great time at the after party, and get home in one piece.”

Opie pulled Fiona aside after you’d all arrived back at your home. “Fi, why were you pushing for her to take me as her date?”

“Oh, you know why, boyo,” she sassed.

“I can’t tell her, Fi. Not now. Not after what Jax just did.”

“Dun you worry about that,” Fiona told him, patting his chest. “Just trust me, lad.”

Opie watched as she strode back in the house, his thoughts drifting. He didn’t realize how long he had been outside, sitting at the patio table while the afternoon sky turned red and orange as the sun set.

Above him, without either of you knowing, you were sitting on your balcony with your own train of thoughts running through your head. You’d asked Fiona why she even suggested Opie to be your date. Things between the two of you were perfectly fine how they were and you didn’t want to ruin your friendship by adding romance into the mix.

All she did was offer a knowing smile and pat your cheek before leaving for the evening, promising to call you after the premiere.

Your stomach growled and you headed down to the kitchen to make a quick dinner to take back upstairs. That plan changes when you spy Opie still sitting on the back patio. You made enough food for the both of you and carried the plates outside when you were done.

Opie spun around when he heard the door open, surprised to see you walking out with two plates and a soft smile.

“Since you’re still here, I made you some dinner,” you explained as you set the dishes down on the outdoor table. “Eat with me.”

Opie nodded and you both sat down, eating in silence, stealing glances when the other looks away. You secretly hoped that he would take his time so you could continue watching the way the evening sunlight caresses his face.

“So what time should we leave tomorrow night?” he asked between bites.

“You know you really don’t have to be my date if you’re uncomfortable with it,” you whispered as you pushed your food around on your plate.

“I offered,” he insisted, “I wasn’t bullied or forced. I’m more than comfortable being your date tomorrow or any other time.”

You were stunned into silence, your head tilting in disbelief, your lips slightly parting as you try to wrap your head around what he just said.

“I mean, we’re…we’re friends, right?” he adds, breaking your heart.

“Yeah, Opie. Friends,” you mutter, standing up and clearing the dishes quietly. You stood at the sink with your back to the door, trying to compose yourself. You remind yourself that you broke up with your boyfriend today and that you shouldn’t be worried about if Opie looks at you as nothing more than a friend.

You sulked in your room for most of the day, hiding in case Opie stopped by. Venus came over to help you get ready, graciously being your hair stylist and make-up artist for the red carpet event.

“So you and Opie, huh?” Venus smirked as she lined your eyes.

“We’re just going as friends,” you sigh dejectedly, trying not to move much.

“Yeah, right,” she scoffed. “You might have yourself fooled but I’m not blind, honey. I see how you look at him.”

“How do I look at him, Venus?”

“Like you're planning your wedding or imagining yourself riding him into oblivion,” she told you bluntly.

You groan in embarrassment and roll your eyes, unable to hide from her knowing smile. “Am I really that obvious?”

“Nah. I didn’t notice until Fiona said something one day,” Venus laughed.

“That Irish bitch,” you muttered, causing Venus to laugh again. “I really like him, Venus.”

“You should tell him,” Venus shrugged as he dusted your lids with a shimmery shadow.

“I can’t do that,” you hiss at her quietly while your eyes dart to the door.

“Why?”

“Because I’d rather pine for a man I’ll never have than be rejected and lose my friend,” you confessed. Every word was true and the thought of putting yourself out there to be hurt made you want to vomit.

“Why on earth would he reject you?” she scoffed. “And why would you lose your friend?”

“I wouldn’t be able to look at him the same way and neither would he. And seriously, how many other men have rejected me? Most recently by publicly fucking another woman,” you reminded her.

“Jax Teller is a dumb slut. I warned you about him from the moment you met,” she admonished as she sprayed your face with setting spray and applied another coat of hairspray to your elaborate style.

“Yeah, but -”

“No, enough of that,” Venus interrupted. “You need to tell him.”

“But -”

“It’s time to get your dress on so this conversation is over,” Venus instructed you with a flourish of her hands before turning to get your dress.

Opie was leaning against the arm of your sofa, his fingers tapping lightly against his legs. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest and squeezed his eyes shut, silently begging for it to slow.

He quickly stood when he heard the door open, taking a discrete deep breath as he turned to face the hallway. Venus walks up first, looking him over and mouthing that he looked great. She rushed to get out of the way and stand next to him.

Opie felt the world melt away the second you entered his view. His jaw drops in awe as he watches you glide towards him like an angel. He felt his chest burning, realizing that he had forgotten to breathe the second he laid eyes on you.

“You look great, Ope,” you say as you eyed him up and down.

“I…you…wow,” he stuttered, his cheeks turning red beneath his beard.

Venus stands smirking in the doorway as she watched the two of you, lost in your little bubble. Neither of you noticed when the sound of a car horn punctured through the silence, so engrossed in each other.

“Okay, kids,” she called as she stepped towards you. “Time to go. Remember, ‘no comment’ to paparazzi, have fun. Opie, you’re gonna be with her all night and I’ll be back in the morning to let you go home. I’ll lock up. Bye!” she rushed out while physically pushing you and Opie to the door.

The red carpet was filled with reporters trying to find out any kind of gossip they could. Your grip on Opie’s arm tightened as you walked towards the waiting crowd.

“You don’t have to answer any questions you don’t want to,” Opie muttered.

You nod in response and take a deep breath as you reach the first mark. You were grateful that the first three reporters stuck to questions about the movie and the dress you were wearing as opposed to the beefy brunette on your arm.

By the time you reached the final mark, and the final reporter, you were feeling relaxed and calm. The reporters were respectful and avoided any questions about the recent press release and your split from your boyfriend. You got too comfortable.

“Hey, Y/N. Maureen Ashby with Charming News. When did you first find out about Jax and Ima?” she asked.

Suddenly, the cameras were all trained on you, waiting for your response. The lights were blinding and hot, your dress constricts your chest, your lungs refuse to expand. You start gasping for air, reaching behind you for someone, anyone. Every breath felt like knives stabbing between your ribs, the pain making your stomach turn.

“It’s okay, I got you,” you heard as a pair of strong arms wrap around you, pulling you into a broad, muscular chest.

You felt your breathing stabilize as Opie held you, his large hand rubbing up and down your back. You closed your eyes and breathed him in, his leather and cedar scent filling your lungs and calming you. You were reluctant to pull away after your breathing returns to normal but you do, looking up into the concerned eyes of your bodyguard and date.

“Are you okay?” he asked quietly.

“Yeah, I think so,” you reply. “Can we go inside?”

“Anything you want,” he says as he places his hand protectively across your waist and guides you to the venue, leaving reporters and camera people calling after you.

Opie guided you into the bar area and snags two glasses of champagne, handing one to you and downing the other in one gulp. Your eyes scan the room as you sipped from your glass. You turned back to Opie, freezing when you laid your gaze on a familiar face.

“Oh my god,” you whispered.

Opie followed your gaze and stiffened.

“What is she doing here?” you asked as you watched Ima strut across the room in a black sequined gown.

“Nothing good,” he answered as he stepped to your side.

Ima noticed you standing with Opie and sneered, stalking your way purposefully. “Find another boyfriend for me to play with?” she taunted as she looked Opie up and down with a hungry gaze.

“Just go away,” you sighed, the energy you have for the event rapidly draining while you dealt with the skank.

“Did Jax tell you why he came to me?” she questioned. Ima stepped closer to you, leaning into your space. “Did he?”

“You should back away,” Opie warned as he noticed your jaw flex and your hand clench.

“It’s because your pussy was boring,” she said in a low voice.

You cock your arm back and jam your balled up fist into her nose, a satisfying crack echoing before blood started dripping down her chin.

“You broke my nose,” she cried. “Apologize. Right now. I have an audition tomorrow!”

“Oh sweetheart,” you cooed condescendingly, “you’ll be blacklisted with every director, producer, and studio by midnight. Should give you plenty of time to keep your pussy exciting for that cheating piece of shit.”

You strode away with your head held high, proud that you stood up for yourself. Opie called the car around and followed you outside, standing behind you while you sent texts out to your agent as well as all of your friends in the casting department.

Opie helped you into the car when it pulled up, settling in the back seat next to you for the short drive home, smiling proudly at you the whole way.

You walked into the house, Opie hot on your heels, and went straight to the kitchen. You’d made sure that no one would cast Ima in even an adult film while you were en route and now you needed a drink. You filled a glass with ice and second guessed yourself, deciding to get a glass of water instead.

“Are you okay?” Opie asks as he followed you into the kitchen.

You nodded while you swallow, hoping that he wouldn’t push the issue.

“Let me see your hand,” he demanded.

You obliged, holding your punching hand out to him, inhaling sharply when his large hands engulfed yours, the warmth immediately relaxing and calming you.

He inspected each knuckle gently, softly brushing over the swollen flesh. You were certain that you had forgotten how to breathe when your eyes met his. Suddenly, you were very aware of how close he was to you and how you wanted to be even closer.

You moved towards his face slowly, your free hand cupping his bearded cheek. He released your hand and wrapped his arms around your waist, the gap between you closing as your lips met his. What started out tender quickly morphed into something passionate, filled with the pent up longing and want the both of you had been hiding for months.

You moaned into Opie’s mouth and tangled your fingers in his hair. His arms tightened around you even more, pressing you into his chest. Opie pulled back, leaving the two of you panting, gazing into each other’s eyes.

“Does that mean what I hope it means?” you whispered hopefully.

“If you hope it means I’ve been wanting you for too long and I can’t stand the thought of not being with you anymore, because that’s the truth,” he told you, caressing your cheek with the back of his knuckles.

“Then it does mean what I hoped,” you grin.

“Maybe you should call Venus and tell her not to come by in the morning, then.”

“On the way to my bedroom,” you winked.

“Is that right?” he smirks.

“Mhmm.”

“Then what are we waiting for?”

You turned, picking up your phone and dialing Venus as you started to walk towards the bedroom. Opie was right behind you, unzipping your dress and helping you out of it. You start pulling on his belt behind you, fumbling with the buckle with one hand while the phone was still ringing.

“Well, hey there, suga,” Venus cooed when she answered the phone.

“Hey, Venus,” you giggled, Opie kissing your neck as you crossed the threshold into your room. “Um, you probably shouldn’t come by tomorrow morning.”

“Is that right?” she replied, a knowing tone in her voice.

“Yeah you may wanna give us like…two or three days,” Opie chimed in as he pushed you down on the bed.

“Oh my,” Venus chuckled. “Have fun. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

“Bye Venus,” you both called before you hung up.

Opie’s lips slotted against yours again before trailing down your jaw and neck. You whimpered and writhed, desperate for his touch.

“Opie, please,” you begged.

“What was your old record?” he asked with a cocky smirk.

“Uh…three I think. Why? Can you beat it?” You really hoped he could. Even though you knew that one with him would be better than three with anyone else.

“Oh sweetheart,” he scoffed, “I got this.”

Everything: @thelastpyle @deangirl93 @downanddirtydean @katelyn--renee @fictional-affairs @lassie-bird @paintlavillered @buckys-zomdoll @polireader @b3autyfuldisast3r @welcometothefandommultiverse @mlovesstories

Sons: @princessmisery666 @stephv213

#writercole #opie winston #sons of anarchy bingo #affluff bingo #afangst bingo #taylor swift bingo #how bad can it be bingo #bad things happen bingo #opie winston x reader #opie winston x you #sons of anarchy au #bodyguard opie #bodyguard opie winston #bodyguard au

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telfordelle · 2 years

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Through The Valley - Part 2

Part 1

Characters: Filip “Chibs” Telford x OC

A/N: It's been 84 years. Finally managed to write a part two for this. Chibs and the main character meet and have to find a way out of the city.

Words: ~2.2k

"Aye, lass, ye almost got me," a rough voice with a thick accent said, chuckling.

With all her might she tried to escape from him. The stranger had pinned her arms to her sides and pressed her body against his chest. "If you calm down, I'll let ye go," he assured her. Why should she trust him? On the other hand, what other option did she have? After all, she could not escape his grasp. She took a deep breath and exhaled the air with a big sigh, nodding. The man reduced the strength of his grip. "Alright, I'll let go of ye now, just don' attack me." She nodded in affirmation. At this, the stranger let go of her, and she was finally able to take a step back and look at him.

She gave the stranger a quick once-over. Albeit oozing an aura of danger, the man appeared to be ruggedly handsome. His hair and beard were streaked with grey. Probably the most striking feature was the scars that ran across his cheeks. Snap out of it, she thought, chastising herself. Embarrassed, she coughed slightly. She had to be careful. Meeting a stranger in this world backfired 80 per cent of the time. Still, she decided that an apology would be appropriate. "Uhm, I'm sorry, I didn't want to attack you. I thought you were one of those infected fuckers," she apologized. He just shrugged. "I'm not dead, am I? So, no problem." “Nah, you don’t look dead to me,” she admitted with a soft chuckle.

"So now that that's settled, what's yer name, lass?" he asked. "Name's Brooke, but you can also call me Rook," she answered. "And yours?" "Just call me Chibs," he said. She raised her eyebrows but did not comment on the name, even though it was more than strange. Nicknames were fine in this world. For all she cared, people could also refer to themselves as President of whatever was left of the fungus-infested United States. She didn't care - as long as they didn't have a foul attitude about their self-given status. “Why are you out here alone?” Rook wanted to know. “Well, I could ask ye the same. My group heard about a safe place not that far from here, at least not by bike. We were separated when some smugglers attacked us. Assholes took my bike, been on foot since then.” He didn’t seem to be lying. Nevertheless, she couldn’t be sure if his group wasn’t hiding somewhere, ready for an ambush. She had nothing of value on her but in this world, it was enough to be a woman. Who was she kidding, even before the outbreak that had sometimes been enough.

“Sorry to hear that. What’s the name of that settlement you’re heading to?” she questioned him. “I just know that there is supposed to be a settlement near Lake Tahoe. We heard that the guys over there are welcoming, so we figured to just see and try it out, ye know?” Chibs said and shrugged. She pondered. Should she tell him that they were probably her people? So far, he didn't seem to have anything bad in mind, she could kill him later if necessary. And if what he said was true, then his group was already en route anyway. With a sigh, Rook answered: “Your group was most likely talking about our settlement in Tahoma. We managed to fortify parts of the place and so far, we haven’t had any breaches.” “So, that means yer heading there, too?” he asked. She just nodded. She was still wary, but she figured that having him tagging along was better than being completely alone. “You can come with me,” she said, then added, “if you want, that is.” To no surprise, he agreed.

“What’s yer plan?” – “I wanted to get to Waterloo first,” she explained. “It should take us about three hours if we tag along the highway.” She grabbed the map from her backpack and pointed at the small village that was located on the outskirts of Stockton. “Most of the time, highways aren’t such a good idea,” he remarked. Rook agreed. Still, it was the fastest way to get to Waterloo and she wasn’t keen on spending the night too close to Stockton. She figured that Chibs felt the same way and explained her motives. “Well, we can at least have a go at it, I guess. But as soon as it gets too bad out there, wilderness it is,” he reasoned. Rook nodded and they began to make their way out of Stockton.

They walked together in silence, neither of them really knowing what they should say. Rook was not yet sure if that made her uncomfortable or not. A little bit, maybe. Chibs was walking in front of her, which allowed her to observe him. He was older than her, probably about fifteen years. The grey in his hair suited him. Why the hell was she thinking about that? This clearly wasn’t the place or the time. She quickened her pace so that she caught up with him. That way, she could at least no longer stare directly at him. After a while, as they made their way past an old Denny’s parking lot, she had to grin thinking of the meme. The good old times, God, how she missed them.

“What are ye thinking about?” he asked. “Nah, just some old meme. You remember those?” He just looked at her in confusion. “Sorry, lass. I don’t know what ye talkin’ about.” She thought about explaining it to him but then waved it off. “It was just some dumb internet culture thing,” she said. „I’ve never really bothered with that,” he admitted. Laughing, she noted that he probably wasn't part of the internet meme generation. “Hey!” he exclaimed, playfully indignant, “I’m not that old.” – “Yeah? How old are you then, old man?” Rook mocked him. “Forty-seven, thank you very much. And how old are ye? Thirteen?” Chibs teased her with a smug smile. “Yeah, more like thirteen going on thirty. Or almost thirty, twenty-nine to be exact,” she countered. So, they weren’t fifteen years apart but nineteen.

“So you were in your early thirties when the outbreak started, huh?” she concluded. Chibs nodded, “Yeah, that’s right.” – “I was fourteen. It really sucked to be thrown into some ‘survival horror game’-like shit. But hey, so far, I’ve made it.” A sad smile crossed her face. There were so many people who she had lost. And in the early days of the outbreak… her family… no, she didn’t want to think about it. Also, she certainly didn't want to talk about it with a stranger. Chibs realised that the time of the outbreak was something she did not want to go into. “Kind of weird that we haven’t seen any infected,” he diverted from the previous topic. “Well, mostly I meet them in buildings, somehow they gather there,” she shared her experience. “Of course, I’ve also met them on the streets, but not as many as in buildings.” He agreed: “Yeah, some of the worst encounters that I’ve had with them took place in former grocery stores. And basements. Basements and tunnels in general are no-go areas.” She shuddered, remembering the hospital’s basement. “Guess we’ll finally come across some soon,” she said while gesturing towards the highway in front of them. “Are ye still sure you want to go that way?” he asked her. Rook only nodded. It was the fastest way. She didn’t want to spend the night in Stockton – but she also didn’t want to spend it under the open sky. They had to reach Waterloo, preferably before dark.

Even so, most of the time highways were absolute death traps. Especially when they were leading away from a large city. During the outbreak, most people had wanted to escape the big cities. Collisions occurred, sometimes resulting in total deadlock. Many early infections happened after people got stuck in traffic or had gotten into accidents. Runners caught up to them and those who weren’t able to escape either died or got infected themselves. Nowadays, it wasn’t uncommon to come across various infected on the highways, with the runners being the had been infected recently.If runners hadn’t encountered a non-infected person for a while, they went into a kind of passive state. Rook shuddered, thinking about those runners which stood in a hunched position when motionless or just walking around passively with sluggish moves. Chibs and she were likely to encounter some stragglers on the highway. Not only runners, but probably also some clickers.

The first part of the route on the highway was unproblematic. They only encountered a few infected people from time to time, but they were able to sneak past them effortlessly. Sometimes they used objects lying around to distract the clickers. Most of the runners were in their peculiar passive state; these were the easiest to avoid. And then came the bridge. There were several clickers and runners on the bridge, more than they had encountered on the whole of their previous journey on the highway. “Should we try to get down from here or do ye want to try going over the bridge?” Chibs asked her. She looked around. Below them was a road, from both sides of the highway there was a very steep descent to it. Because they were two, it was probably easier to deal with the runners and clickers than to get injured on the way down. They made it past a group of runners and Rook managed to silently shiv one of the clickers from behind.

Suddenly, there was a deep and loud roar. She would always recognise that sound. Fuck, now they had a serious problem. They would probably have managed to defend themselves against the remaining runners and clickers, but something much more terrible was waiting for them at the other end of the bridge. A bloater. Those things were nasty as fuck. So far, she had only encountered one. At that time, she barely escaped with her life. Others in her group hadn’t been that lucky. The images of that day were still haunting her. Bloaters were able to lift up a human by their neck and smash in their skull with just one blow. While clickers could at least be killed with a shiv or switchblade, bloaters were covered in thick fungus that effectively acted as armour. Their guns and her bow were not enough, not in the slightest. They had to get out of here, immediately.

Luckily, the fucker wasn’t able to see anything due to the thick fungus plates. Like the clickers, it located its prey through echolocation. She nodded in the direction of the bloater, indicating to Chibs that they had to get out of here. Her thoughts raced while they sneakily making their way further up the bridge. Would they be able to make it past the bloater unnoticed? Going back was not an option: They probably would have made it past the clickers again, but the bloater was moving towards them faster than they could have sneaked past. What should they do? If there had been a river under the bridge, they might have been able to jump, but… “Boot,” Chibs whispered and interrupted her panicked stream of thoughts. Confused, Rook managed to tear away her gaze from the bloater and looked at Chibs. “We have to look for an open car boot,” he explained. He seemed to mean a trunk. Fucking Brits and their strange words. But this wasn’t the time to get irritated about it.

She gave him a thumbs up and made her way to the next car and tried to open its trunk – but to no avail. Okay, next one then. While they looked for an open car trunk, they came closer and closer to the bloater. Shit, shit, shit, she thought. They had to hurry. Bloaters might have been blind, but they sure as hell were aggressive as fuck. They wouldn’t be able to sneak past it, not here. Beads of sweat ran down her forehead, she became increasingly nervous. Why did all those people lock their fucking cars during the outbreak? She just managed to stop herself from kicking one of the cars and making too much noise. Fortunately, Chibs was luckier than here. “Over here,” he said in a hushed tone and motioned to one of the cars beside him. Rook went over to him and looked at the trunk. It should be big enough for the two of them. She got in first, Chibs went after her. He tied a piece of cloth around the locking mechanism so that they could not be locked in. After that, he pulled the lid closed behind him, leaving only a tiny gap open. They were in almost complete darkness. The roaring sound of the bloater drew nearer. Trapped in a cage of their own choosing they now had to wait and hope that the thing would pass them by.

Tags: @evyiione

#chibs telford x oc #chibs telford #chibs telford fanfic #sons of anarchy au #sons of anarchy #soa #chibs

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gallavichfanficlibrary · 2 years

Note

Hi I hate to bother you with this. But I was reading a fic where Mickey was in the sons of anarchy mc. And I can’t find it again! Can you help me with the title? Thanks !!

There are a few that I know of 🏍

Dancing After Death

Masters of Mayhem

and a bonus Promised Land (for the motorcycle club relatedness)

Warning: All 3 are currently WIP with 2 having no updates at all in recent years.

#motorcycle #biker #biker mickey #biker ian #sons of anarchy #tv au #sons of anarchy au #AU

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minnow-doodle-doo · 2 years

Photo

Middle school, especially Gotham Academy, can be the worst but they got each other.

#dc #SoA AU #robin #batfam #jason todd #tim drake #my art #theyre brothers #ride or die bitches that can't do anything not intensely #They met when Jason was 11 and Tim 9 (my other Sons of Anarchy posts has more about them)#the NPC comment was inspired by a 5th grader who put 'i like NPCs' on a post it note on someones back idk why but I think it was devastating #I literally threatened to quit my job if they moved me to the middle school (it was for a lot of reasons but a big one was that Middle schoo #is the worst)

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drrav3nb · 5 months

Text

Know that we have met before and that we will meet again. - Mia Hollow (insp)

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rayslittlekitten · 9 months

Text

All Eyes On You

A/N: Okay, it's finally done. This did not go where I had initially imagined it but I mostly like how this came out. I think it's kinda different from what I've written in the past. I tried to make this PWP and Jax being savage but I always add softness to Jax. I can't help it. Also, I don't know how porn sets are so, yeah. Didn't want to focus too much on the logistics of all that. Also, clearly this is AU. Hope this doesn't disappoint.

Rating: E (18+ ONLY)

Word Count: 3,597

Pairing: Pornstar!Jax x Pornstar!F!Reader

Plot: Getting railed by Jax Teller is only one of the perks of your job.

Contains: porn star/shooting porn, sex work, some D/s dynamics, sex (PiV), oral sex (F and M receiving), exhibitionism, voyeurism, degradation, humiliation, name-calling (slut, whore), light spanking, light choking, dirty talking, masturbation, praising (good girl), cream pie, a quick moment of edging if you squint, aftercare

"We need to find more honest ways of living."

Since Jax became President, he has wanted to steer the club away from the guns and other underground dealings. He was open to all ideas and for him, no idea was a bad idea until it’s been tried. When his business partner running the SAMCRO-funded and protected porn production company jokingly suggested for Jax to star in a few movies, he actually considered it. Getting paid to have sex? He's already doing it for free. Everyone's gotta earn their keep, right? Would it be too degrading? He's supposed to be the leader and he's leading his club into selling their bodies, maybe even their dignity. Not to mention the conflict of interest. Still, he brought it up to the table anyway and they voted on it. Surprisingly most voted yes, although mostly for pure amusement.

What started as a joke to them actually became one of their honest ways of earning. Well, at least for Jax. The others didn't have the balls to do it, but that didn’t stop them from reaping the benefits of tagging along with Jax whenever he had to go shoot some scenes. Money doesn't lie and when they saw their revenue continuously multiply shortly after his debut released, they knew they had a cash cow. Since then, Jax had dedicated a day each month to shooting his scenes. As long as he agrees with the script, he has no problem. Sometimes he'd even make suggestions. He gets producer credit for those as well.

His content is the most exclusive one they have so they strategically make less of it. Gotta keep teasing his fans. Besides, he actually enjoys the attention. If it was any possible, his ego has inflated to be bigger than his dick and that in itself says a lot. It was as if God himself designed him to be a porn star. It was so effortless for him.

Their business has expanded so they their talent pool did as well and let's just say there is no shortage of women - and men - wanting a chance at fucking Jax Teller. You're just happy that you're one of them who made the cut.

Your legs are pushed back to your chest as Jax has his face in between your thighs. You toss and turn your head, feeling his tongue and lips licking and sucking your folds. As you look off camera, you notice there are so many pairs of eyes on you as you lay there naked, spread so wide for the whole world to see your pussy getting eaten out by Jax Teller, suddenly getting a rush. Jax flips you over on your belly and he yanks your hips back so you're on your knees with your ass popped up. He shoves his face back in and you push back, moaning when you feel the tip of his nose nudge your asshole. Jax moves away and aligns himself with you. He shoves his thick, hard cock inside of you and you yelp.

You brace yourself on the bed and turn your head to look behind you, at Jax as he pounds away, already quickly building an orgasm. You notice someone in the far corner behind Jax touching himself through the front of his jeans and you make eye contact, or so you think. He's a bit under the shadows and a studio light is blinding you, but it doesn't matter. This man is turned on by you getting fucked and that's turning you on. You can feel yourself getting more arousd with each plunge Jax takes and each stroke the mysterious man makes.

"Fuck, you're so wet," Jax growls.

"I'm gonna cum! I'm gonna cum!" You warn and before you know it, your muscles contract on his cock and you moan out loud, maybe embellishing your cries just a little.

Jax continues to fuck you hard and fast, drawing out your orgasm.

"That's my girl," he praises and then smacks your ass.

"CUT! Let's get behind them and get a shot of her getting fucked from behind. Back in positions!" the director shouts.

"You alright?" Jax checks on you.

"Yeah, that was a good one," you breathe out while you wiggle your ass back into position, opening and exposing yourself to him and the camera.

"Think you can do that again, sweetheart?" he asks as his thumb slowly slides in and out of the entrance of your dripping slit, teasing you.

You push back and mewl. Talents aren't supposed to engage in any sexual contact while cameras aren't rolling. Although it's not a perfect system, it helps to keep interactions professional and avoid unwanted advances. Fluffers exist for a reason. You and Jax are an exception though. You've been scene partners for a while now and are very comfortable with each other. You can't really say how it is for the other women he's done scenes with, but when you and Jax are fucking, you feel it in your soul and you know he can too. There's just this playful and cozy rapport between you two that allows you both to work together very well.

You swear Jax, the pleasure dom that he is - and what his onscreen alter ego is known for - always makes it a point to pull as many orgasms as he can out of you and you can't even fake yours. Not with him. He can tell when they're real but with him, you don’t even need to fake them. Your exes couldn't even figure out 10% of the ways Jax has learned the ins and outs of your body. Heck, he taught you a few things about your own body.

Between cut and action are the times your pussy aches the most, missing the fullness of Jax's thick cock, stretching you out in all the best ways. People have said porn is fake, but it's not. Scripted? Sure, but it's not fake, at least not all of it. Actual penises are actually penetrating actual vaginas, assholes and mouths. You've sure tasted enough semen to know it's real. Your bruised cervix is more proof of it. Don't forget the sore jaw, but they're all worth it especially if it's all because of Jax. You're also reminded of why you love doing what you do when you notice all eyes on you and Jax again.

"Quiet on set!" the director warns. "Aaaand ACTION!"

You gasp when Jax shoves back into you without warning. He angles himself in favor of the camera, but pushes in deeper and faster. Your eyes wander again and find these two men wearing kuttes off to the side watching. You recognize the one you make eye contact with and you maintain it while getting railed. You've seen him around sometimes whenever Jax comes by. He smacks your ass and you yelp, pushing back against him, chasing another release. The man you're having a staring contest with shifts uncomfortably while adjusting the front of his jeans. You reach for your bare breasts and start pinching your nipples. Your hips stutter when you feel an orgasm close to sliding into home base. You clench and moan as you get closer and closer.

"CUT! Okay that should be enough coverage. Moving on to uh..."

You growl in frustration when Jax stills his hips.

"Sorry, baby. I'd give you relief, but I think maybe we should save that for the camera," he teases as he makes his cock twitch while still inside you, making you cockwarm him between takes.

"Okay, so we're gonna transition to blowjob. Let's start from where we left off. Jax pulls out and then she turns around and sucks him off," the director tells the crew. "Then at some point, Jax, you put her on her back and go missionary."

You shudder suddenly when Jax spreads your juices around with the pad of his thumb and starts teasing your asshole with it, putting just the slightest pressure.

"Jax..." you pant.

"Shh. Be a good girl and hold it," he coos. ”Can you do that for me, baby?”

The line between fantasy and reality definitely blurs for the both of you sometimes, but you both also just enjoy each other that much. Finally they call action again and Jax starts giving you a few short shallow pumps, making you wail from relief, until he pulls out and spanks you.

"Come suck my dick," he commands, holding his cock out for you.

You manage to turn around so you're on your knees and elbows, face to face with his hard cock that's soaked in your juices. You immediately put your lips over his dark red tip and bob up and down, taking more and more of him each time you push in. As you jerk him, you ram his cock into the back of your throat, fitting as much of him as you can. Feeling your gag reflex surfacing, you encourage it to happen and then Jax fists your hair, pulling out a bit and pushing back in.

“Danny, go in for the close up of her,” the director jumps in.

When the cameraman moves in, Jax palms the back of your head and you remove your hand to deep throat him again. He gently pushes your head down and you relax your throat, trying to get more of him. When you gag again, intentionally doing it audibly, he instantly lets go and you pull him out. He grabs your chin and tilts your face up so he can see it. Tears leak out of your eyes and spit from your puffy, slick lips.

"Look at you. So pretty," he praises.

His baby blues penetrate your misty eyes. You don't know if he's just a great actor or as charming as people claim he is, but you believe, at least in the moment, that he thinks you're pretty. You continue to look up at him, playing into the camera, as this is a close up.

"Get on your back," he tells you.

As you turn over and Jax climbs over you, the cameraman steps out of your personal space, returning back to a wider shot. Jax leans down and smashes his lips over yours. His hand comes up to your face and cradles the side of it as he deepens the kiss. You kiss back, slipping your tongue between his lips and licking his pearly whites. He opens up his mouth and intertwines his own tongue with yours, tasting each other. Breaking the kiss, he pulls back, kneels and brings one of your legs up to spread them without blocking the camera’s view. He taps his cock against your clit and then slides the tip up and down your slit, teasing you, causing you to moan and your hips to jerk. He finally pushes inside of you and you arch your back. He pumps away as he holds your leg up, the muscles of his tattooed back flexing with each push and pull.

“Are you gonna cum again?” he asks.

You prop yourself up on your elbows and look down at where you meet. Your fingers reach in and you start rubbing your clit.

“Fuck, yeah, keeping touching yourself,” he encourages. “I want to feel you cum all over my cock again.”

With your next orgasm reaching the edge, your eyes wander to the man in the shadows behind Jax again. You see his hand is now in his pants and he’s unabashedly rubbing one out to this whole scene. Maybe he doesn’t think you can see him. You rub yourself a little faster and his hand matches your pacing.

“Oh god…” you start as you get closer to popping.

Jax drives into you faster and harder and before you know it, the coil snaps inside you and you cry out and arch up, thrashing as you ride the wave. You’ve already lost count of how many you’ve had as you’ve been doing this with Jax on and off already for the last hour or so.

“CUT! Okay, I think we’re gonna get to the money shot now. Are you ready for that Jax?”

“Yeah, I guess so,” he replies. “Can we get five?”

“Alright. Let’s do five!” the director shouts.

As the crew breaks, you let your legs fall to the sides and stretch out a bit while Jax slips off the bed, standing next to it. He starts massaging your hips and helps you rotate your leg one at a time.

“How do you feel? Do you need a longer break?”

“No, I’m good. Let’s just finish this,” you reply. “You really like to stretch me out. It’s like I’m getting a yoga session in whenever we pair up. In fact, it’s probably good for my body.”

“Here we go, biiiig stretch,” he says as he throws one of your legs over, twisting your torso and applying firm pressure on your thigh, stretching out your lower back and glutes. Then he does the same with the other side.

A satisfying moan rumbles from your throat as you feel your muscles loosening.

"Are you ready to show everyone what a fucking star you are?" Jax asks as you straighten your body out.

Your smile reaches your eyes and that tells Jax all he needs to know. You sit up and then bring your legs behind you to kneel on the bed. Jax licks his lips as he looks at you with an equally proud smirk. While biting your lower lip, you reach down and start stroking his semi-hard cock, bringing it back to life.

As people start returning to set, the director checks on the both of you.

“Just another minute,” Jax winks at the director as you continue to jerk him.

“Alright, everyone in your places!”

You start changing up your pace and technique, making him hiss and groan.

“Lay back,” Jax directs you and you fall back to return to your previous position.

He climbs back onto the bed and repositions you to the same one he put you in before the break and pushes into you, your dampness still so present. Your body melts, feeling so delightfully full again.

“Are we rolling?” the director asks. After confirmation, he calls action.

Jax pumps a few times into you, getting you both back on track. He pushes your leg back even more, spreading you out and changing his angle. When it feels like the right time, he then switches positions, curling up behind you and slipping himself back inside you, still holding your leg up and back.

His other hand snakes up to the front of your throat and he pulls your head back. You can hear him panting right into your ear as he thrusts away, You couldn’t be anymore exposed right now with your legs splayed open so wide and Jax fucking you from behind. Only way this could get better is if you had a few more cocks to fill your other holes.

“Look at all those people looking at you,” Jax grunts quietly into your ear, meant only for you and not the camera. “Watching you being such a fucking slut for me.”

His words just about pushed you closer to yet another orgasm which you know is the intentions behind them. You push back against him, trying to match his thrusts and get a deeper penetration as you glance over at all the people watching you. Jax starts pinching your nipple and you feel it shoot down below your belly.

“They’re memorizing how your juicy pussy looks and sounds as I pound into you. Imagining it’s their cock your pussy is gripping. The sexy sounds you make every time I stroke you just right. How shameless you are and loving every fucking second of it.” Jax’s dirty talk is rapidly fueling your next release and it’s evident as the wet sounds get even louder.

"I bet those perverts are gonna sniff these sheets after the shoot too just to feel a little closer to you."

Nothing gets you off more than knowing the power you know you have over your viewers. The thrill of them watching you getting stretched out and brazenly defiled especially when they need to jerk off to you, imagining they are the ones balls deep inside you. You don't get to see most of your actual audience but the thought is enough to intoxicate you. It also helps that Jax knows how you bring the inner slut out of you. The dirtier it gets, the more you want. You're putting on a different kind of show than what your viewers may think. You're not doing this for them; you're doing this purely for yourself, getting off on these people watching you on display.

“They’re storing it in their spank bank for later and when they need to rub one out, they’ll pull it right up, jerking themelves and cumming to you because you so desperately need to get fucked like a whore over and over again, cumming all over every cock that fills up your pussy,” Jax adds as he punches up into you, your ass slapping against the top of his thighs. The squelching increases with each thrust, pushing your arousal out of you.

You also get a different kind of rush from being so sexually freeing. The blood rushes to your face and your groin when you suddenly feel like you’ve been caught doing something so naughty. Shamefully being shameless as your holes get stuffed over and over again. Embarrassed to be seen in such a state but at the same time not wanting to stop because it just feels so damn good to the point you don’t care who is watching.

"You're gonna give me one more?" Jax asks as he continues to pound into you. “Huh, baby?”

He hooks his arm under your knee to hold it back, spreading you even wider and this time, it’s his long slender fingers that dip down between your legs to rub your clit.

"Come on, baby. Cum on my cock again," he encourages. “Just one more time.”

You slam your hips back against him, chasing your next release. Between his fingertips digging into the sides of your neck, the sweet filthy words spilling into your ear and him driving his hard, thick and long cock into your cunt, your body is already close to the end, but now him rubbing your swollen clit, it launches you right over to the line.

“Be a good girl and cum for me,” he grits.”Cum for me, you fucking slut.”

With that, your eyes roll back and you cry out. You are convulsing over him, your walls clamping down hard over his cock.

“That’s it! That’s my fucking girl,” he growls.

His pacing maintains even after you stop flopping around.

“Fuck, baby, I’m gonna cum too,” Jax pants, and then lets out a low moan as he empties himself inside you.

“Great! Danny, make sure you get a close up of the cream pie shot,” the director reminds him.

After Danny quickly repositions himself, Jax slowly pulls out of you and slaps your clit a few times, making you shudder. His hand reaches between your legs and spreads your lips open. You bear down and push his seed out of you. It leaks out of you and runs down to the crack of your ass. With your juices mixed in with his, he coats your lips with it using his fingers and runs it over your clit as well before sliding his fingers inside you, gently pushing it back in.

Jax turns your head to face him and leans in to kiss you tenderly.

“Okay, that’s a wrap! Let’s break and clean up for the next shoot.”

You continue to lazily make out with him, even well after cut was called. As the crew works around you and Jax, you stay lying in bed for a few more moments while stretching your muscles. Jax slips some shorts on and re-joins you, cuddling and spooning you after draping your robe over your naked body.

“Jax!” you giggle as he kisses a trail up the back of your shoulder and neck.

It’s almost unheard of but Jax always gives you aftercare after every shoot, especially the ones where it gets a bit degrading and painful. He does that with all his scene partners, but sometimes you like to imagine he only does it with you. Your mind starts drifting, falling into this comfortable and peaceful lull as he runs his fingers up and down your body that’s cocooned in his.

“Hey,” he nudges the tip of his nose against the back of your ear as he inhales your scent, waking you from your state.

“Hm?” you reply drowsily.

Then Jax finally pops the question you never thought he’d ask.

"You think you're ready for your first gang bang?" Jax asks.

Suddenly getting your second wind, you twist your body to face him and plant a kiss on his cheek, his smile now matching yours as your heart now grows full.

“Really?!” you ask as your eyes light up.

“I’ll even let you pick out your partners.”

Unable to contain your excitement, you squeal as your smile widens even more.

“Okay, I think we should go get cleaned up and get outta here before they have to kick us out,” he suggests. “I’m laying on a wet spot.”

Jax affectionately boops the tip of your nose with this finger and then kisses your forehead before helping you out of bed.

#Charlie hunnam #Charlie hunnam fanfiction #Jax teller #jax teller fanfiction #jax teller x reader #jax teller x you #jax teller x female reader #Jax teller x F!reader #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy fanfiction #AU #pornstar!jax #pornstar!jax teller

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scattered-winter · 2 years

Note

In your version of sons of anarchy au, how does Bruce find his boys?

THANK you for asking I've been wanting to ramble about this

dick is fairly similar to canon in that he was part of the circus and his parents fell to their deaths due to tony zucco. and he still tries to avenge their deaths but in doing so is picked up by bruce and made sort of...a junior member of the club ig. he helps maintain the bikes and everyone loves the kid but he's largely kept in the dark about the vigilantism the club does. bruce intended it to be a place where dick could find a family and focus his grief toward something productive instead of destroying himself the way bruce almost did (and tbh is still doing, even if he can't see it yet). ofc dick finds out about the vigilante thing and wants in so badly that he's actively putting himself in danger until bruce finally caves and gets a little sidecar for his bike lmao. once dick grows out of being a sidekick, he takes on the callsign nightwing, moves to san fransisco, and forms an offshoot motorcycle club: the titans.

meanwhile bruce (poor guy's going through empty nest syndrome) finds a kid stealing the tires off his bike and instead of arresting the kid he's like "hey wanna join my club? :]" so jason becomes the second kid to occupy the sidecar. bruce ofc doesn't take him out to the super dangerous missions but every so often jason will beg and beg and beg until bruce is like fine Fine fine I'll take you just stop crying Please. on one of these missions jason finds his mom (who abandoned him when he was little) and while trying to talk to her, he's shot by a rival bike gang (idk what they're called yet but the joker is the leader ofc). he does not die. just gonna make that clear. because he's my blorbo. but he's in a coma for a while and when he wakes up bruce is like Stay Home And Let Me Protect You etc etc and jason is like Hell No so he runs away to form his OWN club offshoot: the outlaws.

I don't really know where tim comes into it yet but he's after jason ofc

cass shows up at the dorm one day and just kinda stuck around and bruce got attached On Sight. babs took her on as her prodigy in her own little club offshoot: the birds of prey

duke's parents were caught in the crossfire between the joker's gang and some of the jl. as a result duke started going out on his own. long story short he joins a gang of teens and eventually gets picked up by bruce and joins the jl.

talia is a member of a motorcycle gang in the middle east who bruce fell in love with on his first worldwide journey. after that he kept going over there to see her and eventually damian was born. talia kept him with her for the first few years and then sent him to bruce to give him a chance at a normal life. but damian isn't gonna just sit around and be "normal" lmao <3

#i have the most on jason and dick but the rest are just brainworms for now #sons of anarchy au #bruce wayne #jason todd #dick grayson #duke thomas #tim drake #damian wayne #cassandra cain #asks #anon

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whipbogard · 9 months

Text

Biker boy on my mind a lot lately ❤️

#Jason Todd #wppyart #GCG au #blame Sons of Anarchy. I’ve been binging #arm wrestlin’ with Old Man Harvey

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midnight-serendipity · 2 years

Text

Better than the Fantasy: Chapter One

Pairing: Jax x Female OC (AU - Older man, Younger woman, College girl, Secret Identity)

Rating: M (Sexual Content, Violence, Swearing, Mentions of Drugs, Mentions of Alcoholism, Mentions of Marital Issues)

Word count: 5.1k

Chapter One: First Day Out

The night was still young, the dark having just settled as dusk gave way for it. Gone were the vibrant pastels that painted the sky only a few hours earlier and now just a blanket of inky darkness remained in their place. Save for a splatter of blinking white dots that could almost have the California nighttime skyline pass as an illustration for a children’s book. There was a light breeze coating the air, a welcome reprieve for a blonde biker’s leather-clad back this time in August.

If only he didn’t love his kutte so much, Jax would have brought their uniform to the table. For the summertime at least.

He idly puffed on his cigarette as he continued to take in everything his gaze could pass on. Just like any other party the sons had, this one was packed and in full swing despite only being half-past ten. Girls dressed and half-dressed to the nines continued to flock in and out of the clubhouse. Some guys chased after said girls. While others were occupied in trying to find discreet and not-so-discreet places to puke their guts out. Prospects were busy running around, trying to keep the patches and their old ladies happy.

Two years ago, this would have been paradise to Jax – well, minus the puke. Two years ago, he would be down there in the middle of it all – well oiled, cheering and betting in on the fights, maybe even doing the fighting himself. Or perhaps he’d already be balls deep in Tara.

So, what was the newly minted president doing on the rooftop with only his cancer stick and a bottle of Jack for company?

Good question. He didn’t know.

His eyes continued to swivel, back and forth over the TM lot. On the outside, everything looked exactly the same. Same structures. Same colors. Same routines. Same people…well, almost. Jax sensed a shift in the energy and vibe within the club just before they went to Stockton. He was sure his brothers felt it too. He didn’t need to hazard a guess. They all knew it was from the betrayal of the man they used to call president.

Even though they had ideas in mind what they needed to do with Clay, the club had been forced to inaction as the fruits of his transgressions had borne and got most of them locked up. It didn’t need to be said that the priority from then on was to keep the club afloat. Opie, Chibs, Happy, Kozik and Piney bore the brunt of the heavy lifting. After that, they were spared from the decision furthermore because someone else took the reins. He could still recall the equal parts rage and satisfaction that boiled inside him when Opie told him the news during that visitation day, eight months ago.

Clay Morrow was no more. The bits left of him were found in Lodi, either stuck to the side of the road, or scattered as fertilizer.

To this day, not one of them knew the details – not even Unser. It could have been the Mayans, the Aryans, the Irish, the Niners or even the fucking Cartel that none of them had been aware he was dealing with.

All they knew is that somebody else got fed up with his lies, fed up with getting the short end of the stick.

Like the club members who he swore brotherhood to. Those were the same people he spat at, framing them for his dealings just so he could have an exit. And as if that wasn’t enough, he had to beat Gemma to an inch of her life before disappearing into the safety of the night.

The club was wrongfully charged with drug trafficking, and Jax could have kissed Lowen and Rosen – although Tig did kiss Lowen and Rosen – as the two tag-teamed to gather and present substantial evidence to prove that this time, the leather kuttes were truly innocent. It wasn’t an easy feat, and their combined efforts carved a huge dent in the club’s finances. But the duo did manage to cut a seven-year sentence short.

Still, two years was two years, and by the time the real culprit was brought to light, he was already fossil.

The only thing they were all grateful for is that no body count had been added to the onslaught that followed. Yes, they all suffered hits, on both sides of the fence – Jax getting shivved, Happy and Chibs both taking a bullet, and Juice enduring a beatdown. Luckily enough, all damage done was treatable and nothing fatal came out of it.

“Mind some company?” Jax’s head swivelled just in time to see his mom swing a leg over the edge. He flashed her a smile and stood up. Gemma smiled back as she took the hand he offered and stepped off the ladder.

“Easy ma. I don’t have any cortisone with me.”

There was no deflecting the smack on the back of his head. “I don’t need that yet you shithead.”

Jax chuckled, rubbing the stricken area as he re-claimed his spot. Gemma sank down next to him, fishing for her own pack from her back pocket and motioned for his lighter. The next couple of minutes were easily spent that way, wordless, pensive, and filled with nicotine.

But having known his mom for twenty-nine years, he knew he should savour the silence.

“I’m glad you’re finally out, baby.” Gemma combed her free hand through his blonde tresses, fingers playing with the ends. She didn’t comment about it. But he knew she was glad he kept his hair this long, said it made him look younger, laidback, carefree.

He grinned. “Thanks, ‘m happy too.”

He tipped his head towards her and his grin grew wider. “So, you and the pimp huh? When’d that happen?”

“When you were inside. Obviously.” She sassed.

Jax huffed out a laugh. “Obviously.”

He turned back to the view in front of him, but still felt her inquisitive eyes on him.

“Y’know this party is for you. The rest of the guys too, but mainly for you prez. So, you wanna tell me why you’re up here by your lonesome and looking like you just got divorced?”

He sighed. Ah, the million-dollar question right there.

“I don’t know ma.”

“Hmm,” Gemma gave a slight nod. “Tara?”

And that was just one added to the sources of his woes.

“I don’t know what’s happenin’ to us.”

“You fighting?”

“Past two years, I feel like that’s all we ever do. Even before we went inside, and when we were inside, I’ll be lucky if she answered any of my calls.”

Phone calls that were admittedly made too few and far in between. He could have made more of an effort and he was certain Tara knew that too. Heh, it wasn’t like Stockton had much to offer in keepin’ a man busy.

But for reasons he wasn’t ready to admit to himself yet or anyone else for that matter, he just didn’t.

“She tell you what she want?”

Jax hesitated, and he knew that was all Gemma needed as her eyes narrowed into slits.

“She wants to leave.”

“The club or Charming?”

Jax took another pull from his cigarette before snuffing it out with his foot. “Both. Wants me to go with her.”

Gemma let out a short derisive laugh. “Course she does.”

“Mom –”

“And how ‘bout you? What do you want?”

And just like the answer to all the noises in his head, he just gave a shrug of his shoulders. “I don’t know.”

It was another minute of silence, as Gemma put out her own stick. Yet the sound of her mind working overtime was loud and clear to Jax.

“Look ma, the time we did, it wasn’t easy on her. It spooked her –”

Gemma huffed. “It wasn’t easy on anyone, Jackson.”

Jax raised his hands in surrender. “Ma, listen, all I’m sayin’ is –”

“No, you listen.” Gemma cut him off for the third time. “Whatever you wanna do, leave, stay, whatever – you decide that for your own. Not her. Don’t let her take that from you and when you do decide, make sure it is what you want. Do it with finality.” She shook her head. “Shit like that, you don’t go ‘round in circles.”

Jax blinked, watching the woman beside him in both awe and disbelief. He heard it first from Chibs when he was still in Stockton – Nero and Gemma. They said Nero had become quite the influence on his mother. At that time, when Clay’s stunt still stung fresh, Jax didn’t know what to make of it. Looking at his mother and hearing her talk this way, he thought he now had a pretty good idea. He tried, but his mind failed to conjure any memory of his mom looking this light during the past decade – weightless from all of Clay’s baggage.

“That’s it?” He tested.

Gemma shrugged her shoulders. “Everythin’ that happened, did my head in. When Clay beat me up, I thought that was karma’s way of –”

“You didn’t deserve that shit.”

“I’m no Virgin Mary Jax. I –”

“I know you’re not, Mom! But that asshole had no right to lay a hand on ya. Get that outta your head, a’ight.”

A surge of warmth engulfed Gemma, and she couldn’t help the smile it caused. Her right hand sought his left and she gave it a squeeze. “I know, baby. Thank you. But all I’m sayin’ is when my life flashed before my eyes, I realized I’ve made a lot of selfish choices. Hurt a lotta people.”

She released her hold on him and cupped his face with her hands. It was something she guarded closely within her heart and never shared with anyone, but every single time she stared in his baby blues and took in his face, she always felt a pinch inside her chest. He was JT through and through. She understood perfectly the commotion he stirred with the women. But staring at him also made her hurt – this life that she once so desired, now carved lines too early for her son’s face.

“Your father wanted the club outta guns. I saw the money and asked him to keep goin’. Told him it made sense to stay, and he did. But not because of the money, because of me. Now look where he’s at – I know that’s not my fault,” she added quickly as a look of protest marred Jax’s features.

She dropped her hands and sighed. “I’m just sayin’, I finally realized how much our actions can ripple. I don’t want any more what ifs and I certainly don’t want to cause hurt anymore, with you most of all. I want you to be happy Jax, so whatever your ticker tells you,” she lightly thumped his chest with a fist, “go for it.”

“You mean that?” Jax asked, astonished.

Gemma has always been the proud, helicopter-parent-come-to-life, and yes there were a lot of times she was so much more than extra. That was just her nature, especially after Thomas and JT died. She wanted to keep him close. It was often a pain, as he was forced to take the role of referee between her and Tara more times than he could count. But he’d be lying if he said there wasn’t any single time he didn’t benefit from his mom unleashing her inner Keyser Söze.

Hearing her talk this way, he knew it took a lot.

“I do, baby.”

He took both her hands and placed a kiss on her knuckles then lifted his gaze to raise a blonde eyebrow at her. Gemma pursed her lips, feeling cautious at the sudden shit-eating grin thrown her way.

“That mean you won’t meddle anymore?”

Jax barked out a laugh as he saw the wince that his mother obviously tried to hide but failed to do so.

“You asshole,” she mumbled, rolling her eyes.

“Hey. I came from you.”

“Nah, you were probably switched when you were a baby.”

Jax snorted, drawing an arm around her shoulders. “You didn’t answer my question by the way.”

Gemma sighed. “I’ll try. But only if the doc behaves.”

Jax smiled and shook his head. He probably needed to call her out for that. But that was most likely best a conversation for another day.

“Not that.”

When he didn’t continue, Gemma just looked at him, confused.

“You and Nero.”

Gemma rolled her eyes. “Stop fishin’ for information. I know Chibs already told you and I’ve no doubt you already had Juice look into him this afternoon.”

“Hey, I’m happy you’re happy and he does seem like a good guy. But I’m not takin’ any chances just because he’s earned a few brownie points. Need to know he’s good for ya.”

It was Piney who introduced Nero to the half leg of the table. They met on a pub and chatted over some pints. The guys gave him an earful for drinking alone. But Piney being Piney just gave as good as he got. Old bat even got the nerve to be smug as Nero came in with a business proposition for the club. Diosa.

Right now, Jax might just be the ammunition to blow Piney’s ego through the roof. While unsure at first, from the way things were looking, he clearly owed the guy for playing Cupid.

Gemma’s eyes softened and even appeared a little moist. “Thanks, sweetheart.”

Jax’s only reply was to pull her closer, placing a kiss on her temple. Rewind to the start of today, Jax was a pile of muddy questions. He was undeniably relieved that they were finally stepping foot on free soil again. And when his hand first closed in on the gavel, along with the president patch being sewn on his kutte – amazing didn’t even come close to label the rush he felt.

It was fuckin’ phenomenal.

But as the end of the day drew nearer, and the high of the earlier festivities started dwindling – Jax became more and more a six-foot-one pile of frenzied nerves. So much so that he had to step away from the throng of the partygoers. He didn’t even have a destination in mind but wasn’t at all surprised that his feet led him to the roof. He just wanted to breathe. He didn’t even have a clue what to expect when his mother followed him.

But he sure as hell was glad she did. His questions remain unanswered, and a lot of uncertainties were still clearly weighing in on all of them. But closing the day with what seemed to be a lot like hope, was absolutely much better than the feeling of total loss that had made home in his gut the past years.

And maybe for now that was enough. Maybe that was the first step and he owed it all to the woman who always straightened him out.

Ten hours earlier.

Westlake Village, 362 miles Southwest of Charming.

From its palatial architecture, it was understandable why Westlake College is often mistaken by the non-residents of the County as a villa inhabited by a Mediterranean aristocrat. But what the outsiders didn’t know was that it was twice as impressive on the inside. With the abundant wisteria overhanging from the pergola, the sprawling southern magnolia lawn, the rustic limestone fountain with its intricate carvings sitting in front of the student residences, the majestic sculpture of the Goddess of Love herself standing by the entrance of the Faculty of Arts – these were only a few to name, but among the numerous reasons why the collegiate body felt they have been transported to Greece once they step foot within its borders.

The school sat on seventy-five acres of land and having only been established in the earlier years of the 2019 decade – it was relatively smaller and younger compared to its peers. Their roster of students may also be a little shorter. But Westlake College was already notable from end-to-end of Uncle Sam, under an entirely different reputation.

The institution boasted of educating the largest number of trust fund kids.

“So, I heard your mom bought new wheels?” Amy asked.

“Yes!” Georgina exclaimed. “She got a Bugatti Chiron. I was hoping for a Centodieci though. But it’s nice enough.”

“Oh my God, I love that car! I’m so jealous.” Nina stated.

“I’ll give you a lift.”

“She’s gonna let you drive it?” Liza asked, surprised.

“Of course, duh.” Georgina stated teasingly.

“Heh. You know what this means, right?” Nina asked, a devious glint in her eyes. When she was only met with confused stares, she continued on. “Guess who’s going to have a new car by the end of the week?”

Amy sighed, exasperated. “Let me guess. Goldie Hawn?”

“Girls be nice. You know how it is” Amy said in a singsong voice before she drummed her hands on the table, “Once a redneck always a redneck.” All the girls chimed in, the entire table bursting out in laughter.

“Uh oh. GS nine o’clock.” Liza stated haughtily in a mock whisper. The effect was instantaneous, all heads turning to that direction and true enough a familiar brunette was set to pass by their table.

Amelia Seville.

With her rich, dark chocolate locks that cascaded to slightly below her shoulders, a heart shaped face, hazel eyes, the slim and elegant slightly upturned nose – the girls supposed she could be considered pretty. Her frame wasn’t half bad either, she ticked off all the checkboxes for a dancer’s body. If it wasn’t for her decent rack, she could be confused for a ballerina. It wasn’t that surprising, after all, aside from her dual degree in business administration and fashion design, the girl also had dance as a minor.

And they heard she had quite the knack for the craft, but they were yet to see her in action.

Her name was a constant in the Dean’s list, with her GPA always toying between the 3.8s and the 3.9s, sometimes locking in the golden 4.0. But her name appeared to be constant in something else as well. For it echoed through the grapevine that a few boys from the soccer and lacrosse teams swapped ideas on where they would like to bend the lady over.

That could be true, but even if so, honestly, the girls just couldn’t figure out what all the rage about her was.

But maybe, just maybe it had more to do with all the intrigues that surrounded her. Add her glasses to the mix, and she looked like the perfect candidate for a good girl with plenty of skeletons in her closet – didn’t the mystery always add to the thrill of the chase?

Apart from her mom’s reputation on the forefront of the scandal, Richard’s odd behaviour these recent months, choosing pole of all things as her specialization in dance, rumour has it that Amelia was closely acquainted with a porn star. But to this day, no one was certain since the girl in question and her two loyal cronies remained little nuts, tough to crack.

Amelia could still feel the eyes of WC’s cheerleading squad pinned on her after she had passed their table. There were murmurs, that she was sure was meant for her ears to pick up. Nothing new, really.

The alias of Goldie Hawn was dubbed to her mom – Elena McKinnon. But the title had totally nothing to do with the actress, nor the looks, because that would be like comparing a peach to an apple. It just so happened that her mom was declared as the notorious resident gold digger of Westlake Village. So, Goldie Hawn to be discreet. Maybe.

As for Amelia, she was Goldie Spawn. GS for short.

“Paparazzi on the lookout,” Joey stated as Amelia sat down beside him.

She just shrugged, unlike her friend who was unapologetically meeting the cheerleaders stare per stare.

“Aren’t they always? Where’s Hannah?”

“Cafeteria.” Joey shook his head, still watching their interlopers.

“Don’t those girls know that the nineties are way over?”

“Most likely didn’t get the memo,” she replied, taking her vermicelli bowl out of its bag.

“Pfft. Still doing the Regina George to a T.”

Amelia turned to her friend, smirking. “Mean Girls was 2004.”

“You know what I mean. Smartass.”

Truly, Amelia did know. Because for reasons they found inexplicable, some students of WC or maybe stretched to most were apparently fond of stereotyping and fitting into the shoes of those stereotypes as well. And just as Joey implied, it was like reliving a nineties teen movie.

“Missed me my minions?” As if materializing out of thin air, Hannah dropped unceremoniously on the bench in front of them, placing a bag of popcorn on the middle of the table.

“Oh God. You are a lifeshaver. I’m sho famished!” Joey said in between munches.

“You just finished a quarter pounder meal and a blueberry pie! How are you still hungry?” Hannah exclaimed, grabbing her own handful.

“Sweetheart –” he bopped her nose after swallowing.

She tried to swat his hand away but failed. “Don’t touch my face –”

“– I am a woman in a man’s body! –”

“– Your hands are greasy!” Hannah motioned for wipes, which Amelia handed to her.

“– It’s not my fault this creature” he gestured down his body, dodging the crumpled wipe Hannah threw at him “is always hungry!”

Amelia snorted, content to third wheel on this conversation. Joey was the self-appointed queen of the LGBTQ society. He was tall and lanky, with hooded eyes and jet black, unruly mop of hair that always worked sexily for him. And perhaps, similar to most, if not all guys who swung the other way – he was a sassy little thing.

Looking at Hannah, Amelia was always reminded of a pocket-sized fairy. She’s had her hair forever in a lovely lilac pixie cut that flawlessly accentuated her face. That, her vibrant green eyes, exuberant energy, porcelain skin and petite frame combined just seemed to be the perfect excuses for Amelia’s mind to conjure her as this little ethereal creature.

She too, was quick to gain the attention of many WCers as she was one of the few who sailed through college with the help of a scholarship – and God forbid a job at the local grocery – after her mom got relocated to Westlake for work.

Together, the three of them was an impenetrable fortress as they liked to think.

“So,” Joey started casually.

Bringing a chopstick-full of noodles to her mouth, Amelia’s eyes swivelled back and forth, noticing the two now resorted to peacefully sharing the popcorn.

“You discussed it with your aunt yet?” He asked, turning to Amelia.

“Yeah, what happened about that? You haven’t said anything yet.” This time, Hannah looked intently at her too. She propped an elbow on the table, resting her chin on her closed fist.

Amelia swallowed her food, before meeting both their gazes. “Because we haven’t yet. Talked about it, I mean.” She watched the two of them exchange looks.

“Like you haven’t had the chance to talk yet, or you just didn’t tell her yet?” Hannah clarified, with beady little eyes.

“Both,” Amelia answered, unfazed.

“Why?”

This time Amelia’s gaze slid to her left, greeted with Joey’s features contorted into a confused frown. “What do you mean why?”

It only took a split-second, as the expression on his face turned lethal. “Don’t answer my question with a question. We both know you’re too smart for that.”

Amelia rolled her eyes. “I just feel like I shouldn’t yet.”

“Why? You think she won’t like it?” Hannah asked, bemused.

“Ridiculous. That doesn’t sound like her.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Amelia agreed, then released a breath. “You know Lu. She’s always been supportive of me from the get-go, and even though we’ve never discussed it before, I know she’ll like the idea.”

“So? Why delay it?” Joey asked. Him and Hannah glanced at each other again.

Amelia paused, shielding herself behind another mouthful of food she just took. Truthfully, she could understand the confusion. Almost an hour exactly to the week before, they were huddled in the social hall, intent to work on some school work together without getting shushed.

Hannah, who started binge-watching Friday Night Lights just two weeks prior, was giving them a voluntary recap like she always did. Joey who already finished the series was ecstatic to have someone share his love for Tim Riggins. Together, the two of them regaled the story like a regular-scheduled commentary.

Amelia was working on a case analysis for her Ethics and Corporate Social Responsibility class, when she received a nudge to her ribs. She looked up, meeting their excited gazes.

“What?” She questioned.

“You should pull a Lyla!”

Amelia’s eyes widened, straightening on her chair. “You mean work at Cara Cara?”

Hannah made an exaggerated roll of her eyes while Joey flicked her on the forehead. “No, you nerd! Pull a Lyla Garrity and not a Lyla Winston!”

“Oh!” Then right after her moment of realization, her forehead crinkled. “So what did Lyla do?”

Hannah flashed her a grin. “She moved out of her hometown to pursue college.”

Oh.

Now that was a story arc not unknown to her, she had read or seen it one too many in works of fiction. Unless she was absolutely nuts for the story, she never truly tried to wrap her head around the idea. But to put herself in that shoe…

She felt a flutter of excitement in her stomach, but quickly dismissed it. Yet Joey and Hannah’s keen look of hopefulness directed at her made it known she was not quick enough.

And now these two had made it their mission to coerce her into submission. It seemed daunting, yet admittedly thrilling. Especially when these two were set to graduate in ten months. One year earlier than her. But she didn’t know if it was something she could sink her teeth into. Or if I should.

She sighed. “Things at home,” she shook her head. “I just don’t think it’s the best time.”

“No offense, babe. But living with Richard and Elena?” Joey snorted, then admonished. “There’ll never be a best time.”

“Did Richard come home drunk again?” Hannah asked.

In the sixteen years Amelia had known Richard McKinnon, she knew the man prided himself on his health consciousness. She had never seen him with a smoke on hand. He had an established workout routine that he devoted religiously to. On the rare occasions that he indulged in alcohol, he never drunk to the point of incoherence – until recently that is.

It was past midnight on a Friday. She was coming down the stairs to grab some water when a man stumbled through the front door. His figure was hunched, and he smelled like a brewery. Her first instinct was to scream bloody murder. That was until her eyes zoned in on the suit that looked eerily familiar. Her thoughts were confirmed a second later when the man stepped foot within the dimly lit area of their living room.

The image of her stepfather plastered, triggered a flashing neon warning sign in her head. Now, she was aware that Richard, being in his late forties was well within his rights to drink himself to next week. But despite wishing that this was just a guy’s typical night of debauchery for him, in her heart of hearts she was certain that something deeper in him had run amuck – leading him to chase solace at the bottom of a Remy Martin.

He swayed past her, casually singing – or more like mumbling – Heartbreaker, and staggered up the way she came from, almost sending her to a coronary as he missed a step. Thankfully, he was able to upright himself and keep himself in a shaky vertical as he ascended the marble staircase. She was only able to release the breath she didn’t know she was holding once he was completely out of sight.

That was six months ago, and the last thought she had in mind that night was to hope this wasn’t the start of a particular fixation. But fast forward to just a week after that, that same hope had been proven futile. Because that had just been the start of many.

And here she was counting down the days she’d see him sober, wishing for the beginning of a clean streak – a cold turkey on his part. Only to be crushed just a few days later.

“Yeah. Tuesday”

“Damn and here we were hoping he’ll last longer than a week.” Hannah sighed in disappointment, before her brows pinched in thought. “When was his last before that again, Thursday?”

Amelia’s heart sank as she shook her head. “No. He drank Sunday too.”

“Wow, it’s –”

“Becoming more frequent. I know,” She finished for Joey.

“D’you think he needs to go to rehab?” Joey asked tentatively.

“If it were entirely up to me, yes I think so. Or at least see a therapist or a counselor or whatever. But –”

“It’s not for you to decide.” This time, Hannah concluded the statement for her, and all Amelia could do was nod.

“And we all know the mention of rehab is a social suicide for Elena.” Joey remarked, rolling his eyes “Because God forbid, her amigas catch wind of it and then bring it up during their Sunday brunches or those Gala things they attend.”

Hannah shook her head. “I still really think you should tell Luann.”

“Just ask her for advice or anything,” Joey added.

She knew they still sensed her reluctance to do so. To be honest, she did miss talking to Luann. Apart from the usual clothing consultations through Facebook messenger, it had been a while since they last had a decent amount of heart-to-heart.

But just like she said, she didn’t want to raise false hopes for the both of them. Luann knew as much as her that Elena was the law in the McKinnon household. Amelia did challenge her at times, and as much as she was tempted to put her foot down, she did care a little too much about what she would leave behind. And just like what Luann, Joey and Hannah always pointed out – this was her Achilles’ heel.

“Okay,” she agreed. But by the looks the both of them were giving her, she knew they could tell how half-hearted that was.

A/N: I decided to jump the gun and forego the snippet. Here is the chapter 1 of Better than the Fantasy!

I’ve been working on this for soooo long now and I thought it’s probably time to start posting. This is completely AU and even though Tara is mentioned here, her and Jax’s story will in no way follow canon.

Camilla Belle is my face claim for Amelia, inspired particularly by her appearance in From Prada to Nada. She was the first image to pop in my mind because I think she fit Amelia’s physical features perfectly. But of course, feel free to picture anyone you like. 😉

A big shout out and huge thank you to @lovebarefootblonde for beta-reading for me. Your talent, wisdom and friendship is always a very big help and encouragement.

Lastly, I won’t have a posting schedule set-up and it does take me a while to finish a chapter. So if you want to be added to my taglist, dm me or click here.

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theesirenteller · 8 months

Text

Reaper's Crow. 𝒯𝓌𝑜 ☞

Chapter One

🅦🅐🅡🅝🅘🅝🅖 Kidnapping, Gore, Abuse, Violence, Profanity, OCC, glorification of serial killings, mentions of sexual violence, smut, mentions of PTSD, Sociopathisim, graphic violence, torture, blood, gore, deaths, dark undertones, angst, slow-burn romance

▌This fictional piece is AU with very little amounts of canon. I understand if this fic isn't your cup of tea. Please do not leave hate comments. The story is set some years after season seven. ▌

"Well I figured it was about time you got a lady friend. She's fine now. No need to drain her eyelid again, it's all cleared up. Just have to continue to ice the bruise. Once her ribs heal up she'll be ready to get up and move again. What's her name?"

"Bye Doc."

"Aw come on-"

"Don't let the door hit you on your ass on your way out." The Reaper said sharply in his low, guttural throat. A Marlboro cigarette soon nuzzled between his pink lips. The flick of his lighter clicking as he flamed it on. The warm golden hue kissed the edge of the tobacco stick that caused smoke to dance in the air.

The elder doctor scoffed with an eye roll before grabbing his medical bag and making his way out the bedroom. Running his hand through his salt and pepper hair as he rushed down the narrow staircase and quickly rushed out the front door.

The loud bang of the slam lock and door shaking from its hinges caused the bedridden woman to flinch and awaken. Her heavy eyes slowly opened. The dull gray midafternoon light peaked in from the black curtains causing her sensitive eyes to squint a few times before she had opened them once again. Her blurred vision began to clear as she looked around. The room, from what she could see─was modestly sized. Big enough to fit the medium sized dresser and bed she laid in along with a chair. A chair someone was sitting in. A giant man dressed in layers of black clothing was sitting in. He sat so casually smoking his cigarette as he watched her. His large, muscular thighs overflowed on the seat, making it appear smaller than him. The two eyed one another with emotionless expressions and unsure eyes. She recalled the night she saw him and suddenly her eyes grew wet. Her lower lids formed tear droplets as her lips pursed. "Who are you?...I-I don-t-t know anything", her voice horse as she strained words together.

She had first been met with silence. "I didn't save you to ask you questions, kid. I didn't come there for you." His voice was like liquid midnight. So sultry, so smokey. The words glide off his lips like butter and drew her in like a piperman's lullaby. When he stood up from his seat he made the room appear smaller than what it already was. The Reaper's appearance exuded strength as he was very muscular and tall. With the neck and shoulders of a wide receiver football player. Thick, golden eyebrows that were quite bushy and gave his icy blue eyes an intensely destructive look. He was made to destroy based on looks alone. His large hand grasped a bottled water off of the top dresser beside her bed and with ease he popped the top off. Luckily, she was laid upright so it came easy to pass it to her for nourishment. "What's your name?", The death dealer asked as he watched her take sips.

"I don't have one." She whispered after moving the plastic bottle from her lips.

"Come on, Everyone's got a name." He replied roughly with smoke flowing behind his words.

"Whore." She kept her eyes on the bottle. "It's what I've been called since I could talk…I don't have a name unless that's it."

His left hand cupped her jaw. His hand was warm and rugged as he lifted her head with a careful touch as her eyes set on him. His left eyebrow raised "Explain. From the beginning. From your beginning."

The battered woman had a ghostly look flash across her face. Like a broken china doll. "I was created at a Hen house. A Hen house is where men pay to get 'custom whores'. Nobody can file a missing person's report or care about someone who doesn't exist in the rest of the world. Women are housed in large houses to get impregnated, those are called 'Breeders'. And the babies are sold off to whichever client pays for it. Some get sold at birth and some at different ages…all depends on what the client wants." Her lips turned to a frown before she took another drink of water.

"I came to my master very young. I don't know how young b-but i've serviced him since before i spoke my first word." She admitted.

The woman's revelation─or girl he couldn't even be sure of, made his blood boil. His fists clenched tightly, so tight that his nails dug deep into his flesh enough to leave dents. The Reaper didn't reject killing Stolbatch. He only regretted not making the process longer. There wasn't much chivalry in his job but this was the closest he'd gotten to it in a longtime. Her sullen voice broke him out of his inner thoughts. "What'd you say?" he asked in a softer tone. More husky.

"I asked your name. You said everyone's got one." She replied.

"Reaper." He moved from his spot near the dresser and made his way towards the door. "You've been asleep for about a week now. I'll get you something to eat. Pain's gonna kick in soon and you'll be needing your meds."

"Reaper." She called out from behind him, causing the giant man to stop in his tracks and turn his head to the side, "Thank you." her voice grew shaky as she fought back tears.

He said nothing but nodded his head before leaving.

It carried on similar to their first meeting for the next two weeks. She barely saw him unless he was bringing her soup and crackers or coming in with medication. Other than that Reaper was gone the majority of the time. He was a man of little words. He barely spoke more than a sentence at a time. She didn't mind it. The woman was settling into her own reality of being free. Whatever that meant. She didn't know.

Today was dreary. Wherever they were it was cold. Cold and wet. The sky was shaded dark gray and raindrops danced against the window. Feeling stronger than she had weeks ago, The bushy-haired girl sat in the chair Reaper would usually sit at. Instead this time she had moved it closer to the window. Dressed in a plain white long-sleeved cotton teeshirt that fit her a few sizes to big, Her large breasts kept it from spilling off her shoulders, a pair of grey joggers warmed her lower half with long black socks, A heavy fleece blanket wrapped around her shoulders as she sipped on her sweet, hot beverage. Hot chocolate. Her thick afro sat on her shoulders and warmed her collarbone and neck like a warm scarf.

"Dont'cha think it's about time you picked out a name for yourself, kid?" His baritone voice sparked behind her.

"How about kid since you already called me that?" She replied with a squeaky tone.

Reaper chuckled and shook his head as he edged closer. "More like Mouse would suit you better." he muttered. He then took a seat on the edge of her bed beside her chair. Hunched over with his elbows on his knees as he ran his hands through his golden hair. Today, he was dressed in a pair of faded black jeans, bulky leather buckle boots that were stained with gruff dirt stains, and a black wool cardigan that hugged his large muscles perfectly, "Look at me…in the eye this time."

Biting at her puffy bottom lip, she slowly turned her head and looked at him. She found it difficult to look into his eyes for too long. A fuzzy warm feeling would form in the center of her chest. A heavy weight would form in her stomach that felt like a brick. Her palms grew sweaty. Her obsidian eyes stared into his bright sapphire ones before she narrowed her attention on the gray hairs that peaked out from his honey-toned beard.

"Scout."

"Scout?" She repeated with an unsure tone. Popping her lips a few times as she repeated it.

"Fuck, that's shit…uh…",His eyebrows knitted together as he curled his lips into a frown. "How about Birdie? Like free as a bird."

"I like Scout." She said quickly as she sat up straight. "Cookies…There were these cookies and I remember they were called girl scout's cookies. I used to eat them a lot."

"Okay." A smirk fell across his lips, "Nice to meet you Scout."

She smiled at him in return, "Nice to meet you Reaper."

The pair locked in their gaze at one another. A comfortable silence falling over the two of them as they stared. A fire sparkling in their stomachs as their eyes warmed. Only for that fire to be put out by the sound of his mobile ringing. Reaper's expression turned back to cold in the blink of an eye. Stoically, he quickly got up from his seat and left the room.

It'd taken Reaper awhile to come back but when he did he looked unsettled. Conflicted. "Where would you like to go, Scout?" he asked.

She looked at him with a confused expression which made his eyes close and his nostrils flare. "What?" she asked.

"Where would you like to go?" He breathed out with his shoulders slouching. He suddenly turned and pulled open the top shelf of the dresser. Digging inside it before pulling out a stack of cash. "Look I don't know where you'll go but it can't be with me. You're free now. I'll give you some money and you can start over wherever you'd like."

Scout's eyes widened as she panicked. "Wait!", swiftly she stood on her feet and edged towards him as he turned around. Her heart starting to race. Tilting her head up and craning her neck back she looked up at him, "Look please just take me with you. I-I-I..I won't be a bother i promise!"

Reaper exhaled deeply and began to shake his head. "Look Sc-"

" I am as good as dead without you! Please Reaper, take me with you or…or kill me now because there isn't anything out there for me." Fat tears fell down the sides of her face as she wept. Wailing like a baby, like a scared child. It'd felt like he'd be throwing her to the wolves.

The Reaper looked down at his shoes before looking up at her once more. He knew she was right. And a part of him couldn't shake the feeling that his life was going to go through another change. He wasn't looking for a partner but he wasn't going to push what he already welcomed in, away.

"So, where are we headed now Reaper?"

The Reaper let out a grumbling grunt before speaking, "Look, we need to set some ground rules since you're gonna be tagging along." He then proceeds to clear his throat, "Rule one; No asking questions, Rule Two do as i say, Rule three, do as i say and stay put without asking questions, and Rule four shut up and blend in. I work for some fucked up people in higher ranks of power." His facial expression grew stiff as he drove, "I used to think I had power. Law enforcement I thought had power. But not like these guys. This goes beyond Biker shit…outlaw shit…beyond it all."

His blue eyes caught her onyx ones as he looked her over, "We're just ghosts amongst the living; you and me."

Scout began to slowly smile and reached out her fist. "Ghosts amongst the living, me and you." she agreed as the two bumped fists.

Character Visual : Scout

Chapter Three

Taglist ; @youflickedtooharddamnit @darqchilddaydreamz @darklydeliciousdesires @wabi-sabi1090 @danzer8705 @laurfilijames

#theesirentellerstories #theesirenteller fanfic #theesirentellr ocs #jax teller #jax teller fics #charlie hunnam #jax teller x blk!oc #jax teller x ofc #jax teller x oc #soa #soa fics #soa AU #sons of anarchy #Jax teller AU #Jax Teller Anst #jax teller; reapers crow

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