secretlysamcro

“It’s been what…” he looks at his watch like the cocky fucker he’s always been. “Nearly two hours since you got here and you still haven’t found your way to come say hello…that’s pretty mean darlin’”

“That’s cause I’m not here for you” I reply with a smile dipped in venom, “I’m here for my brother” I take the drink Cherry slides across the bar, never breaking eye contact with Jax.

“Yeah?” He chuckles, shifting until he’s even closer to me. “Pretty sure you use that line every fuckin’ time you walk in here”

“Life’s not all about you Jackson”

“You sure about that darlin’?” He lets out a quite laugh scratching his beard “what are we at now? three…four years?”

“Yeah well…shits changed. I’m with someone”

“Mmmm, right…” he nods, “...and weren’t you with someone the last two times we did this?” That anticipated mischief glimmers at the tip of his tongue as he swipes it knowingly across his bottom lip. The beautiful bastard.

“Nah, I’m being foreal this time. It's serious...and I really like him” the lie immediately tastes sour on my tongue. There isn’t someone new. Never has been, I’m just trying my hardest not to let myself get dragged back into this toxic fucking mess.

His eyes flick over mine, “is that so?” His cocky facade slips for just a second, so quick I’m sure I fucking imagined it. But then I catch the twitch in his jaw, the one that only makes an appearance when he’s pissed at something, or trying hard not to be.

“Good for you” he drains the rest of his beer in one quick swig, setting the bottle down on the bar with a loud clang before turning and strolling out of the clubhouse doors without another fucking word.

“Love you too loser” I laugh, wrapping my arms around my older brother as the alcohol begins to hum through my veins. He smells like gin and a badly baked birthday cake as he leans in, placing a sloppy kiss to my cheek, smearing left over cake crumbs across my skin.

“Ew. Stop, get off me” I wriggle from him as we break into that uncomfortable burst of laughter like we’re 12 again, and not two grown adults standing in the middle of the samcro clubhouse.

My eyes wonder mid laugh to the back of the room, and I wish they fucking didn’t. Jax is tucked away in one of the corner booths, one arm slung across the back of the seat, and the other stroking that skanks hair. Ima, fucking hate that slut. Her fingers trace lazy shapes over the denim covering his inner thigh, and he’s fucking letting her do it.

His drunken eyes find mine the exact moment I notice her hand edge even closer to his zipper. The asshole doesn’t look away, no he holds the eye contact like he wants me to react. Don’t do it. Don’t. Do. It.

“Not on my birthday y/n” Juice mutters, his hands firm on my shoulder, facing me away from the beauty and the beast, Ima, being the beast. “You two pulled this shit last year”

“Dunno what you’re talking about”

My brother scoffs, always so dramatic. “Really?” He gestures across the room with his half finished bottle. “You two ever gonna admit you still love each other? Shits exhausting”

“Shut up asshole. You’re drunk. You don’t know what you’re talking about”

He laughs stepping back with both hands raised. “Shits old now, y/n” he raises his voice the further he gets away “move on with your life…or just fucking tell him” I just about hear him over the music.

I turn back to face Jax, I’m not backing down. Our eyes lock again instantly, probably cause he never took them off of me. Ima’s now tucked into the crook of his neck with her hand still resting too fucking comfortably on him. And Jax? He just looks at me like I’m spoiling his fun.

“How much do you really like him?” He mouths the fucking words. The cocky, arrogant fucking asshole, I swear to god I hate him.

The alcohol that was once humming through me, is now fucking fuming. My feet move without thought, weaving through bodies and tables. I walk straight past them at the booth, my brothers voice calling my name somewhere behind me. I don’t stop though, don’t even turn around, making my way into the hallway, the quietness like a breath of fresh air. The music fades behind me as I pass JT’s bike and head straight into Jax’s dorm. I slam the door shut - harder than I meant to, but fuck it - the smell of him hits me immediately and it only makes me even more pissed. I’m unsteady on my feet now, the drunk me here to stay. My hands sweep across the top of his drawers in one swift motion, sending everything scattered on top crashing to the floor. The sound of it all hitting the worn carpet, and breaking the lonely silence forcing a laugh out of me.

“The fuck are you doing!” His voice hits the room before he’s even stepped fully inside.

I don’t turn straight away, I stand in the same spot with my back to the door, eyes scanning over the mess I’ve made of his things, my chest still tight with rage. Then, to make matters worse, I hear her fucking voice. That high pitched whiny fucking voice.

“Whys she done that Jax?”

I finally turn to see him standing in the doorway, blocking most of it with his broad shoulders and eyes displaying pure fucking thunder. And behind him, like a lost fucking puppy, stands Ima. She opens her mouth again, fixing to say some more dumb shit but I don’t even give her the chance.

I lunge forward, raising my hand in the air, his hands shoot out clamping around my waist attempting to move me out of arms way. “y/n don’t-” too fucking late.

My hand meets her face nice and sharp. Jax shoves me back hard enough that I stumble straight onto the bed behind me, and at the same time he’s already turning back to Ima. She has one hand against my handprint and the other outstretched towards Jax, as if he's her saving grace. Like I knew he would, he shoves her hand away, pushing her back into the hallway and slamming the door shut in her face. And I’m sure I hear the lock catch.

“Why’d you always do this?” I demand, pushing myself upright on the bed.

He doesn’t answer, doesn’t even look at me. Instead, he crouches down silently, beginning to gather all of his things I'd thrown across the room. One by one he places them all back where they belong, acting as if I’m not even there.

“I’m talking to you”

Him ignoring me, feels like pouring petrol onto an open fucking fire. I know I probably look like a complete bitch right now, and maybe I am. But I swear to god there isn’t another person on this planet that gets under my skin as much as Jax Teller does. He makes me fucking insane.

I reach back, grabbing the nearest pillow and launch it at him. It knocks straight into the side of his head before dropping to the floor. He freezes. Then his shoulders rise slowly as he takes in the deepest of breaths. Fuck. There goes that twitchy jaw again, I follow his movements as he bends picking the pillow up and places it back on the bed with so much fucking restraint, which pisses me off so much fucking more. Then I watch as he trails around, removing his blade, his gun, then throwing his kutte onto the lone chair in the corner of the room. I push myself off the bed, slamming each hand down beside me “I fucking ha-”

“YOU HATE ME?” he finally cracks. “YOU HATE ME SO MUCH YOU COULDN’T STAND TO SEE SOMEONE ELSE NEXT TO ME AND HAD TO COME IN HERE AND FUCK UP MY SHIT?” He’s already got me pushed up against the back of the door, calloused hands framing my face.

“Fuck you” my lips barely move around the words.

“Fuck me?” He laughs like a maniac, letting go of my face and taking a step back. “Yeah that’s what you fuckin’ want isn’t it?” He punches an inch away from my face, splitting the faded poster of some random porn whore in two.

“You’re so full of shit Jackson” I scoff, peeling myself away from the door, my eyes rolling at the smear of blood he’s left behind.

“Yeah?” He lets out a laugh so bitter. “And you’re usually full of me right about now, but you’re actin’ brand new cause you got another man…again” he shakes his head like he’s disappointed in me. “Didn’t stop you needin’ me before though, did it?”

“I never needed anything from you” I spit, shoving him in his chest, the VP patch rough against my palm.

He storms straight at me with enough force that I stumble back a little but I plant my feet firm before he can knock me any further. “I almost believed you y/n…” the tip of his nose now touching mine. “…almost” he sighs, gathering himself to his usual height. “But it’s what we do right? Fuck and then run away from each other…you’re angry for a reason can’t you fuckin’ see that?”

My fists are clenched, nails denting little crescents into my flesh. “And what reason do you think that is you prick?”

His eyes move over my entire being so fucking slow. “Lover boy ain’t doin’ it right?” He taunts, that cruel fucking smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You missin’ somethin’ real?” He grabs himself through the denim, daring me to deny it. I almost moan at the sight of his cock becoming hard underneath the fabric. “So what, we gonna do this for the rest of our lives huh, sneakin’ and duckin’...fuckin’ on the low?”

“I-” he moves in closer again, stopping the words in my throat. He runs a bloodied hand across my cheek, marking me with his DNA.

“Why don’t you take what you want from me…take what you need from me” a faint tremor of his chin betrays him. “Take what you want… and go”

I give it to him, he’s fucking good. But I know him well, too fucking well. Him telling me to “go” is a load of bullshit, but if he wants to play that game…again, then fuck it I’m bout to join in.

I push at him, and this time the back of his knees buckle against the bed until he’s lying flat on his back, the mattress moulds to the shape of my knees as I climb over him like I’ve done a thousand times after saying I never would again. He grabs my face hard between his thumb and finger, pulling me down forcing my lips against his. Fuck, I’ve missed him. “I knew you couldn’t resist” he mumbles between our lips as I cherish the scent of his breath.

I break away, sitting up and hovering a lil above him as I begin to fumble with his belt buckle. “Always hated this fucking thing” I snap with frustration.

Jax hoists his hips up in response, knocking me off balance and dragging every piece of clothing he has off, waiting for me to do the same. When I do, he rolls on top of me, the weight of him presses me deep into the mattress, both of his hands pin mine above my head as he leaves wet, open mouthed kisses against my neck, the tip of his cock solid hard against my inner thigh.

“Fuck” I breathe, using my teeth to clamp my mouth shut again, not wanting to give him the fucking satisfaction of knowing how good he always makes me feel.

“What was that, huh baby?” He teases, cock twitching against my hole, silently asking for permission. He knows he doesn’t need it, he never fucking does.

“Shut the fuck up before I change my fucking…” my words dissolve into a moan as he thrusts every inch he has to give into me, stealing the rest of my sentence. My hands fly to his biceps, holding on tightly as I take pleasure in watching his face contort with euphoria.

“F…fuck baby” he moans, holding himself up on his palms, the chain around his neck dangling between us, hypnotising the fuck out of me. He lets out a shaky breath before our eyes meet again, “you were really gonna keep all this from me?”

“This is…the last…fucking time, Jackson” I pant, arching my hips off the bed as he hits that exact spot I fucking need him to. That dull ache, flickering in the pit of my stomach like an old lightbulb coming back to life, threatening to give out but flaring back again at the last second. And he knows all about that spot, he’s the only fucker who ever has. He moves himself to his forearms, angling himself until he lands just right again, and again, and again.

He keeps fucking into me like it’s the last fucking time. Maybe he thinks it will be, maybe it actually will be, but none of that matters, not right now, not in this moment.

He drags me up and towards him as we switch positions, the bed creaking beneath us. My body moves in perfect time with his, this dance we’ve done a hundred times before. Then I’m above him, sliding down gracefully onto his cock, like a queen to a throne.

He pulls me forward, locking one arm against my ass and his other grabbing at the back of my neck, dragging me in so close to his face he could probably inhale me if he tried. “When are you gonna get it through that…” his voice deepens, as he drives into me, punctuating each syllable. “Thick…” thrust. "Fucking..." thrust. “Skull…” thrust. “Of…” thrust. “Yours…” thrust. “…that nobody will ever fuck you like I do”

He lets go of me, and I rush to rise above him again. The slap that lands across his sweat glistened cheek is brutal, and I’m fucking proud if I must admit. His head snaps to the side, his perfect blonde locks spilling with the force of it, he exhales deeply through his teeth, eyebrows raising in surprise. Blood begins leaking from the corners of his mouth but he drags that talented tongue along slowly, tasting the aftermath.

“I was waitin’ for this part sweetheart” that sickly sweet grin creeps back into his face, teeth stained all red and eyes shimmering with delight, like I’ve given him exactly what he wanted. He pulls his hand back and lands the hottest slap against my ass before throwing me off him and forcing my face into the mattress, pushing my lower back down so I’m arched in his most favourite way, and slides in all the way home.

The moans I’m letting out need their own exorcism, fuck knows what the other guys are thinking if they can hear me. Shit, my brother. My arms stretch out in front of me, fingers digging into the linen sheets. One thing about Jax though, he doesn’t like to play fair. Not at all, he catches my arms, pinning them behind me with one hand, while he leans over me, the other smushing the back of my head deeper into the mattress. I’m fucking helpless, I can’t move and my screams are being swallowed, but it’s just how I like it. How we both like it.

His grip relaxes against the back of my head, before slowly wandering the length of my spine with his rough to the touch fingertips, tracing every dip and curve of my back as he presses his weight into me once more, reaching beneath me to manoeuvre his fingers through my folds with all the slickness he’s helped to create. “Fuck y/n” he grunts the words, “always so fuckin’ wet for me baby, you know that’s how I like it don’t you?”

“Yea-”

“Did I say you could talk yet baby girl?” He splays two fingers wide then clamps them both around my clit. “Matter of fact, I must not be fuckin’ you hard enough if you can still talk” I wince in pleasurable pain.

“You came here for your brother…” his hands trail lower, fingers ghosting against his own dick as he slides in and out of me. “But did you really think you’d leave here tonight without coming for me?”

I rise from my arched position, Jax still throbbing inside me as he holds me for balance. “Please…” I grind impatiently against him, I don’t care how pathetic I sound right now. “…make me cum Jackson… please” my breath catches in my throat as I struggle to keep still under his grasp.

I feel his wicked smile grow against the skin of my neck, as he kneads my tits, the flesh spilling out of his hands. “You still on the pill?” he rumbles, I just about manage an incoherent yes.

“Good.” He grunts, “cause if this is the last time…which I doubt it is, I’m fillin’ you up so god damn much you’ll be leakin’ me for weeks”

© GIFs & photos used are NOT my own, all sources & found on Pinterest, Tenor & Giphy. Credit to all original owners. | dividers by @/honeyluvsw | bow divider by me - please feel free to use x

xoxo secretlysamcro

“It’s been what…” he looks at his watch like the cocky fucker he’s always been. “Nearly two hours since you got here and you still haven’t found your way to come say hello…that’s pretty mean darlin’”

“That’s cause I’m not here for you” I reply with a smile dipped in venom, “I’m here for my brother” I take the drink Cherry slides across the bar, never breaking eye contact with Jax.

“Yeah?” He chuckles, shifting until he’s even closer to me. “Pretty sure you use that line every fuckin’ time you walk in here”

“Life’s not all about you Jackson”

“You sure about that darlin’?” He lets out a quite laugh scratching his beard “what are we at now? three…four years?”

“Yeah well…shits changed. I’m with someone”

“Mmmm, right…” he nods, “...and weren’t you with someone the last two times we did this?” That anticipated mischief glimmers at the tip of his tongue as he swipes it knowingly across his bottom lip. The beautiful bastard.

“Nah, I’m being foreal this time. It's serious...and I really like him” the lie immediately tastes sour on my tongue. There isn’t someone new. Never has been, I’m just trying my hardest not to let myself get dragged back into this toxic fucking mess.

His eyes flick over mine, “is that so?” His cocky facade slips for just a second, so quick I’m sure I fucking imagined it. But then I catch the twitch in his jaw, the one that only makes an appearance when he’s pissed at something, or trying hard not to be.

“Good for you” he drains the rest of his beer in one quick swig, setting the bottle down on the bar with a loud clang before turning and strolling out of the clubhouse doors without another fucking word.

“Love you too loser” I laugh, wrapping my arms around my older brother as the alcohol begins to hum through my veins. He smells like gin and a badly baked birthday cake as he leans in, placing a sloppy kiss to my cheek, smearing left over cake crumbs across my skin.

“Ew. Stop, get off me” I wriggle from him as we break into that uncomfortable burst of laughter like we’re 12 again, and not two grown adults standing in the middle of the samcro clubhouse.

My eyes wonder mid laugh to the back of the room, and I wish they fucking didn’t. Jax is tucked away in one of the corner booths, one arm slung across the back of the seat, and the other stroking that skanks hair. Ima, fucking hate that slut. Her fingers trace lazy shapes over the denim covering his inner thigh, and he’s fucking letting her do it.

His drunken eyes find mine the exact moment I notice her hand edge even closer to his zipper. The asshole doesn’t look away, no he holds the eye contact like he wants me to react. Don’t do it. Don’t. Do. It.

“Not on my birthday y/n” Juice mutters, his hands firm on my shoulder, facing me away from the beauty and the beast, Ima, being the beast. “You two pulled this shit last year”

“Dunno what you’re talking about”

My brother scoffs, always so dramatic. “Really?” He gestures across the room with his half finished bottle. “You two ever gonna admit you still love each other? Shits exhausting”

“Shut up asshole. You’re drunk. You don’t know what you’re talking about”

He laughs stepping back with both hands raised. “Shits old now, y/n” he raises his voice the further he gets away “move on with your life…or just fucking tell him” I just about hear him over the music.

I turn back to face Jax, I’m not backing down. Our eyes lock again instantly, probably cause he never took them off of me. Ima’s now tucked into the crook of his neck with her hand still resting too fucking comfortably on him. And Jax? He just looks at me like I’m spoiling his fun.

“How much do you really like him?” He mouths the fucking words. The cocky, arrogant fucking asshole, I swear to god I hate him.

The alcohol that was once humming through me, is now fucking fuming. My feet move without thought, weaving through bodies and tables. I walk straight past them at the booth, my brothers voice calling my name somewhere behind me. I don’t stop though, don’t even turn around, making my way into the hallway, the quietness like a breath of fresh air. The music fades behind me as I pass JT’s bike and head straight into Jax’s dorm. I slam the door shut - harder than I meant to, but fuck it - the smell of him hits me immediately and it only makes me even more pissed. I’m unsteady on my feet now, the drunk me here to stay. My hands sweep across the top of his drawers in one swift motion, sending everything scattered on top crashing to the floor. The sound of it all hitting the worn carpet, and breaking the lonely silence forcing a laugh out of me.

“The fuck are you doing!” His voice hits the room before he’s even stepped fully inside.

I don’t turn straight away, I stand in the same spot with my back to the door, eyes scanning over the mess I’ve made of his things, my chest still tight with rage. Then, to make matters worse, I hear her fucking voice. That high pitched whiny fucking voice.

“Whys she done that Jax?”

I finally turn to see him standing in the doorway, blocking most of it with his broad shoulders and eyes displaying pure fucking thunder. And behind him, like a lost fucking puppy, stands Ima. She opens her mouth again, fixing to say some more dumb shit but I don’t even give her the chance.

I lunge forward, raising my hand in the air, his hands shoot out clamping around my waist attempting to move me out of arms way. “y/n don’t-” too fucking late.

My hand meets her face nice and sharp. Jax shoves me back hard enough that I stumble straight onto the bed behind me, and at the same time he’s already turning back to Ima. She has one hand against my handprint and the other outstretched towards Jax, as if he's her saving grace. Like I knew he would, he shoves her hand away, pushing her back into the hallway and slamming the door shut in her face. And I’m sure I hear the lock catch.

“Why’d you always do this?” I demand, pushing myself upright on the bed.

He doesn’t answer, doesn’t even look at me. Instead, he crouches down silently, beginning to gather all of his things I'd thrown across the room. One by one he places them all back where they belong, acting as if I’m not even there.

“I’m talking to you”

Him ignoring me, feels like pouring petrol onto an open fucking fire. I know I probably look like a complete bitch right now, and maybe I am. But I swear to god there isn’t another person on this planet that gets under my skin as much as Jax Teller does. He makes me fucking insane.

I reach back, grabbing the nearest pillow and launch it at him. It knocks straight into the side of his head before dropping to the floor. He freezes. Then his shoulders rise slowly as he takes in the deepest of breaths. Fuck. There goes that twitchy jaw again, I follow his movements as he bends picking the pillow up and places it back on the bed with so much fucking restraint, which pisses me off so much fucking more. Then I watch as he trails around, removing his blade, his gun, then throwing his kutte onto the lone chair in the corner of the room. I push myself off the bed, slamming each hand down beside me “I fucking ha-”

“YOU HATE ME?” he finally cracks. “YOU HATE ME SO MUCH YOU COULDN’T STAND TO SEE SOMEONE ELSE NEXT TO ME AND HAD TO COME IN HERE AND FUCK UP MY SHIT?” He’s already got me pushed up against the back of the door, calloused hands framing my face.

“Fuck you” my lips barely move around the words.

“Fuck me?” He laughs like a maniac, letting go of my face and taking a step back. “Yeah that’s what you fuckin’ want isn’t it?” He punches an inch away from my face, splitting the faded poster of some random porn whore in two.

“You’re so full of shit Jackson” I scoff, peeling myself away from the door, my eyes rolling at the smear of blood he’s left behind.

“Yeah?” He lets out a laugh so bitter. “And you’re usually full of me right about now, but you’re actin’ brand new cause you got another man…again” he shakes his head like he’s disappointed in me. “Didn’t stop you needin’ me before though, did it?”

“I never needed anything from you” I spit, shoving him in his chest, the VP patch rough against my palm.

He storms straight at me with enough force that I stumble back a little but I plant my feet firm before he can knock me any further. “I almost believed you y/n…” the tip of his nose now touching mine. “…almost” he sighs, gathering himself to his usual height. “But it’s what we do right? Fuck and then run away from each other…you’re angry for a reason can’t you fuckin’ see that?”

My fists are clenched, nails denting little crescents into my flesh. “And what reason do you think that is you prick?”

His eyes move over my entire being so fucking slow. “Lover boy ain’t doin’ it right?” He taunts, that cruel fucking smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You missin’ somethin’ real?” He grabs himself through the denim, daring me to deny it. I almost moan at the sight of his cock becoming hard underneath the fabric. “So what, we gonna do this for the rest of our lives huh, sneakin’ and duckin’...fuckin’ on the low?”

“I-” he moves in closer again, stopping the words in my throat. He runs a bloodied hand across my cheek, marking me with his DNA.

“Why don’t you take what you want from me…take what you need from me” a faint tremor of his chin betrays him. “Take what you want… and go”

I give it to him, he’s fucking good. But I know him well, too fucking well. Him telling me to “go” is a load of bullshit, but if he wants to play that game…again, then fuck it I’m bout to join in.

I push at him, and this time the back of his knees buckle against the bed until he’s lying flat on his back, the mattress moulds to the shape of my knees as I climb over him like I’ve done a thousand times after saying I never would again. He grabs my face hard between his thumb and finger, pulling me down forcing my lips against his. Fuck, I’ve missed him. “I knew you couldn’t resist” he mumbles between our lips as I cherish the scent of his breath.

I break away, sitting up and hovering a lil above him as I begin to fumble with his belt buckle. “Always hated this fucking thing” I snap with frustration.

Jax hoists his hips up in response, knocking me off balance and dragging every piece of clothing he has off, waiting for me to do the same. When I do, he rolls on top of me, the weight of him presses me deep into the mattress, both of his hands pin mine above my head as he leaves wet, open mouthed kisses against my neck, the tip of his cock solid hard against my inner thigh.

“Fuck” I breathe, using my teeth to clamp my mouth shut again, not wanting to give him the fucking satisfaction of knowing how good he always makes me feel.

“What was that, huh baby?” He teases, cock twitching against my hole, silently asking for permission. He knows he doesn’t need it, he never fucking does.

“Shut the fuck up before I change my fucking…” my words dissolve into a moan as he thrusts every inch he has to give into me, stealing the rest of my sentence. My hands fly to his biceps, holding on tightly as I take pleasure in watching his face contort with euphoria.

“F…fuck baby” he moans, holding himself up on his palms, the chain around his neck dangling between us, hypnotising the fuck out of me. He lets out a shaky breath before our eyes meet again, “you were really gonna keep all this from me?”

“This is…the last…fucking time, Jackson” I pant, arching my hips off the bed as he hits that exact spot I fucking need him to. That dull ache, flickering in the pit of my stomach like an old lightbulb coming back to life, threatening to give out but flaring back again at the last second. And he knows all about that spot, he’s the only fucker who ever has. He moves himself to his forearms, angling himself until he lands just right again, and again, and again.

He keeps fucking into me like it’s the last fucking time. Maybe he thinks it will be, maybe it actually will be, but none of that matters, not right now, not in this moment.

He drags me up and towards him as we switch positions, the bed creaking beneath us. My body moves in perfect time with his, this dance we’ve done a hundred times before. Then I’m above him, sliding down gracefully onto his cock, like a queen to a throne.

He pulls me forward, locking one arm against my ass and his other grabbing at the back of my neck, dragging me in so close to his face he could probably inhale me if he tried. “When are you gonna get it through that…” his voice deepens, as he drives into me, punctuating each syllable. “Thick…” thrust. "Fucking..." thrust. “Skull…” thrust. “Of…” thrust. “Yours…” thrust. “…that nobody will ever fuck you like I do”

He lets go of me, and I rush to rise above him again. The slap that lands across his sweat glistened cheek is brutal, and I’m fucking proud if I must admit. His head snaps to the side, his perfect blonde locks spilling with the force of it, he exhales deeply through his teeth, eyebrows raising in surprise. Blood begins leaking from the corners of his mouth but he drags that talented tongue along slowly, tasting the aftermath.

“I was waitin’ for this part sweetheart” that sickly sweet grin creeps back into his face, teeth stained all red and eyes shimmering with delight, like I’ve given him exactly what he wanted. He pulls his hand back and lands the hottest slap against my ass before throwing me off him and forcing my face into the mattress, pushing my lower back down so I’m arched in his most favourite way, and slides in all the way home.

The moans I’m letting out need their own exorcism, fuck knows what the other guys are thinking if they can hear me. Shit, my brother. My arms stretch out in front of me, fingers digging into the linen sheets. One thing about Jax though, he doesn’t like to play fair. Not at all, he catches my arms, pinning them behind me with one hand, while he leans over me, the other smushing the back of my head deeper into the mattress. I’m fucking helpless, I can’t move and my screams are being swallowed, but it’s just how I like it. How we both like it.

His grip relaxes against the back of my head, before slowly wandering the length of my spine with his rough to the touch fingertips, tracing every dip and curve of my back as he presses his weight into me once more, reaching beneath me to manoeuvre his fingers through my folds with all the slickness he’s helped to create. “Fuck y/n” he grunts the words, “always so fuckin’ wet for me baby, you know that’s how I like it don’t you?”

“Yea-”

“Did I say you could talk yet baby girl?” He splays two fingers wide then clamps them both around my clit. “Matter of fact, I must not be fuckin’ you hard enough if you can still talk” I wince in pleasurable pain.

“You came here for your brother…” his hands trail lower, fingers ghosting against his own dick as he slides in and out of me. “But did you really think you’d leave here tonight without coming for me?”

I rise from my arched position, Jax still throbbing inside me as he holds me for balance. “Please…” I grind impatiently against him, I don’t care how pathetic I sound right now. “…make me cum Jackson… please” my breath catches in my throat as I struggle to keep still under his grasp.

I feel his wicked smile grow against the skin of my neck, as he kneads my tits, the flesh spilling out of his hands. “You still on the pill?” he rumbles, I just about manage an incoherent yes.

“Good.” He grunts, “cause if this is the last time…which I doubt it is, I’m fillin’ you up so god damn much you’ll be leakin’ me for weeks”

© GIFs & photos used are NOT my own, all sources & found on Pinterest, Tenor & Giphy. Credit to all original owners. | dividers by @/honeyluvsw | bow divider by me - please feel free to use x

xoxo secretlysamcro

None of it mattered anymore–not your sobriety, not your safety, and certainly not your sad, miserable existence. You'd slipped into a Sons’ party at their clubhouse with the express intention of drinking yourself into oblivion just to forget the job you'd lost earlier today and the eviction notice you'd found taped to your door four days ago. With nothing left to keep holding onto and no foreseeable way to pay your bills, you’d thrown years of caution and keeping your distance from the Sons straight out of the window when you’d walked right into their clubhouse. If the universe wanted to keep pulling at all your loose threads, then you'd shamelessly unravel until there was nothing left to undo.

Lowering the glass back onto the bartop already rimmed in the markings of previous parties, your blurry vision grew fuzzy as you stared at the amber liquid dwindling in the bottom of your glass. It was the third one you'd had in the hour that you’d been here, and you were certainly feeling its effects. But you were only just getting started.

Despite being too broke to afford alcohol yourself tonight, you'd quickly learned that if you flirted with the young guy behind the Sons’ small, outdated bar, he kept pouring you drinks without questioning your presence here. Because while you knew you weren't supposed to be here, he apparently wasn't aware of that fact. Or he’d been willing to overlook it for the possibility of getting laid.

Everyone in Charming knew that you didn't just walk into the Sons of Anarchy’s clubhouse without an invitation. It didn't matter who you were, outlaw motorcycle clubs were notoriously private, and their clubhouses were their safe havens. Uninvited visitors generally weren’t welcomed with open arms, but you'd invaded their space anyway for the possibility of free alcohol and a chance to forget for a little while. If that earned you trouble, you'd welcome it. Maybe a fist to the face or being thrown out on your ass would cut through the endless nothing that seemed to be swallowing you from the inside out lately. 

“Might wanna slow down there, beautiful.”

Gaze slowly sliding up from the almost finished third glass in front of you, you attempted to focus on the dark haired guy standing behind the bar. Even in your increasing inebriation, you didn't find him the slightest bit attractive. But you still forced a smile onto your face, one that felt too heavy to maintain.

“Am I not s'posed to be drinkin’ at a party?” you faintly slurred back. “‘Cause it seems like everyone's drinkin’ here.”

Left hand releasing your grip on the glass, you sloppily waved it carelessly at the crowd of people behind you. The clubhouse was booming with life, laughter, and loud music. A smokey haze lingered in the air from all the cigarettes and joints that were being smoked inside, and while it stung your eyes a bit, it seemed to perfectly match the haze already clouding your brain. 

“You're not lookin’ like you're having much fun though,” he countered dubiously.

The hand you'd waved behind yourself swung forward, landing exaggeratedly against your chest, just above the exposed cleavage of your shirt. You'd picked the sluttiest outfit you could find in your closet tonight for the occasion of no longer giving a fuck, but somehow it still wasn't as revealing as what the other girls here were dressed in.

“I'm having plenty of fun,” you assured him, drunkenly dragging out the syllables as you tried to speak coherently. “I gotta drink in my hand and you for company, right?”

The flirtatious lie rolled off your tongue and lit up his face immediately. Apparently you'd said the right thing to get him to stop probing, and you'd started wondering just how far you'd be willing to take things to keep that from happening tonight. Would you need to suck his dick in a bathroom in exchange for him to keep pouring you drinks and not asking questions? You supposed after another couple of whiskeys you probably wouldn't even fucking care if you did.

Maybe I should apply to work at their porn studio. Might need to start sucking cock just to pay rent for a new place.

A bitter laugh fell past your lips at the depressing thought, and the guy behind the bar's brows drew together in confusion. Of course he was confused because you hadn't said any of that aloud. You probably looked like some drunk idiot laughing to yourself, which only made you laugh a little harder. But you doubted coming off as crazy would make him turn you down after how much he'd been hitting on you for the past hour. 

“What's so funny, darlin’?” 

The laugh died on your lips as you stared at the guy behind the bar, your head gradually tipping to the side in bewilderment. His mouth hadn't moved yet somehow he'd just spoken. How was that even possible? Or were you already that affected by the whiskey? But then it slowly dawned on you that the guy behind the bar was looking just to your left, and you realized someone else had spoken just before you heard their deep voice again.

“Is it the fact that you aren't supposed to be here, yet you're getting wasted on my whiskey that’s got you laughin’?” the disembodied voice asked. 

Blinking slowly three times, you stared at the guy behind the bar as you steadily came to the realization that you'd finally been caught. The guy who'd been serving you quickly turned and hurried off to the other end of the bar, leaving you to fend for yourself. 

Definitely not sucking your dick now, asshole.

Placing both of your hands flat along the sticky bar counter, you carefully spun to the side on your stool, swaying faintly at the movement. You came unexpectedly face to face with Jax Teller, the Sons’ president, and it took you so off guard that your brain instantly went blank at the sight of him. You'd only seen him occasionally around Charming, usually on the back of his bike and moving far too fast for you to see much, but now that he was leaning against the edge of the bar barely a foot away from you, you could clearly see him. And he was someone you would be willing to fuck for some free drinks. 

He had the prettiest shade of blue eyes that you’d ever seen, like the rolling waves of the ocean glistening in the afternoon sun. His long blonde hair was perfectly slicked back, and his facial scruff was just neatly trimmed enough to add to that edge which radiated off of him. Jax was thick and broad beneath the black leather kutte and the white t-shirt he had on, and in that moment, you completely understood why he managed to fuck as many girls as he did. 

“Why?” you countered, arching a brow back at him. “You gonna tell me I need to suck your dick in exchange for it?”

Jax’s plush lips parted slightly in surprise, clearly not expecting that response to his question and imposing presence. One blonde brow slowly ascended questioningly upwards onto his forehead as he leaned further onto his forearm resting against the bar.

“What?” he asked.

“Your precious whiskey,” you explained, gesturing your head towards your glass. The movement caused the room to temporarily spin, but you carried on. “Not supposed to be drinkin’ it, right?” you said, words still slurring together. “So do I gotta commit a felony for you? Fuck you in a backroom or somethin’ for it?”

The corner of his lips twitched faintly upwards before his tongue deliberately rolled out between them. Mesmerized by the flick of pink briefly wetting his lips, you stared at his mouth while his entire demeanor shifted. It was subtle, but even you’d noticed how his posture had relaxed and his stern expression had eased.

“You ain’t gotta filter on you, do ya, darlin’?” he mused. Jutting his chin at your drink on the bar, he asked, “How many of those have you had?”

Picking up the glass of whiskey in question, you brought it to your lips and tipped it back. A small smile crept itself across Jax’s lips as he watched you down the rest of the liquor in two deep swallows. As you set the empty glass back onto the bar, you licked the bitter residue from your lips before answering him.

“That made three,” you said. “But I wouldn’t mind a fourth. Or maybe the whole bottle.”

His smile faltered at your last comment, and his pretty blue eyes–of which there occasionally seemed to be more than two–narrowed suspiciously back at you. The noise of the party continued to fill in the silence that sunk between you both, a boisterous laugh breaking out above the sound of pool balls clattering a few feet away. 

“You good?” he asked. 

“Huh?” 

Jax reached a ringed hand out and grabbed your empty glass from beside you on the bar before lifting it up in front of your face. Your attention focused on his muscular forearm instead of the glass, eyes tracing over the ink of his tattoo. The urge to lick it crossed your mind and you barely refrained from acting on impulse.

“Three of these in an hour?” he questioned. “You’re barely stringin’ sentences together and you look ‘bout ready to fall off that stool. I don’t think you need more, I think you need some water and to go home, sweetheart. This ain’t the place for you.”

The concern on his face was so unexpected that a laugh bubbled straight out of your throat. Clumsily reaching out, you managed to snatch the glass from his hand, ignoring the look of shock that washed across his face at the bold gesture. Your other hand raised before you firmly pointed a finger in his face, only mere inches from his nose.

“Don’t tell me what I need, pretty boy,” you disagreed, wagging your finger at him. “And don’t pretend to care ‘bout my well-being. You don’t give a fuck ‘bout it.”

A frown settled on his lips as he pushed off the bar, one hand smoothly swatting yours out of his face. He took a step closer, his presence impossible to ignore as he leaned forward and got directly in your face. The heavy scent of cigarette smoke, leather, and gasoline rolled off of him, and the fan of his warm breath along your lips had your eyelids fluttering. He might’ve been getting annoyed, but you were getting aroused.

“Watch it, darlin’,” he warned in a low rumble. “It’s not smart to be sticking fingers in my goddamn face like that. I’m bein’ nice right now.”

Leaning further towards him, you held his piercing stare with your own as best as you could while swaying along the bar stool. What the fuck did you have to lose at this point? If he wanted to shoot you in the middle of this party with the gun no doubt hidden in his kutte, then at least you wouldn’t have to wake up tomorrow worrying about where the fuck you’d be sleeping in a couple weeks. That’d be a weight off your shoulders.

“Then don’t,” you challenged. 

He blinked back at you, and a small crease slowly formed between his brows. His blue eyes dipped down towards your lips, and you became very aware of how close his were to yours. You were barely resisting the urge to smash your mouth onto his now. Maybe he’d let you, maybe he’d slap you. Maybe you’d have been content with either outcome.

“A’ight,” he finally conceded. 

He straightened back up, which put an unfortunate amount of distance between you both, something you weren’t particularly thrilled about. You could’ve used sex to help shut your brain off, and drunken sex probably wouldn’t have hurt your situation tonight. Why not live a little and fuck the Sons’ president? You’d always heard the hype about his bedroom skills, now you were curious to see them for yourself.

“The fuck is goin’ on with you, huh?” Jax demanded. Crossing his thick arms over his chest, he fixed you with a pointed stare. “Clearly somethin’ is, darlin’. No one is stupid enough to come in here acting like this, especially not to my fuckin’ face.”

“I’m gettin’ evicted and I just lost my job,” you slurred back. Raising the empty whiskey glass in your hand, you shook it irritably in the space between you both. “Can’t exactly afford the alcohol poisoning on my own. So, care to help a girl out?”

The tension in his shoulders eased marginally at your explanation as his attention dropped to the glass you were shaking in the air. The corners of his lips dipped downwards before his gaze returned to your face. “So you’re havin’ a bad night, that it?” he asked.

A humorless laugh slipped out of you as you shook your head, swiveling back towards the bar on your stool and setting the glass down in front of yourself. “It’s not a bad night,” you corrected him, “it’s a bad everything. I’d be thrilled for the rest of that bottle or a car rollin’ over me. I’m not exactly feelin’ picky.”

“So you think talkin’ shit at our clubhouse and drinkin’ our booze is the answer?” Jax shot back. “‘Cause it ain’t.”

Glancing sidelong at him standing next to you, you frowned at the probing way he was watching you and the chastising tone of his voice. This was not what you’d come out here for. He was making you think and feel and you wanted neither of those two things tonight. You wanted to be completely numb–whatever made you feel as close to dead inside as possible. 

“I don’t needa Son to therapize me,” you shot back, still slurring your words. “I just wanna get shitfaced and shut off my fuckin’ brain. Stop pretendin’ to give a shit. You're not known for caring, you're known for fucking.”

His eyes narrowed at your bluntness–all four of them. “Who said I can’t do both, huh?” he argued. “Maybe the shit you’re sayin’ sounds concerning, but maybe I’m not above takin’ you in the back and fuckin’ some sense into you, either.”

Falling quiet at the harsh way he’d snapped back, your fuzzy mind began repeating the words ‘fucking some sense into you’ over and over. Arousal rippled through you like a slow wave rising up from the base of your spine before engulfing you in its heat. With one hand, you slowly nudged the empty whiskey glass along the bartop towards him, and his gaze briefly drifted down, watching it slide over to him. 

Tipping your head at the empty glass, you ignored the way he swam in your vision. “Pour me another,” you ordered him, “and you can try as hard as you want.”

Jax had poured you two more shots before you'd lost the ability to keep your hands to yourself. With the alcohol and your attraction burning inside of you like gasoline and a lit match, you'd grabbed a fistful of his perfectly styled blonde hair while you’d been at the bar and yanked him towards you, crashing your lips onto his and effectively shutting him and his “compassion” up.

Somehow you'd stumbled through the clubhouse party shortly after you’d shoved your tongue into his mouth, letting Jax guide you around the people and the twists and turns that you couldn't fully remember before you'd ended up in some sort of bedroom. He’d barely shut the door before your hands drunkenly fumbled to remove his clothes, your eyes not quite seeing straight. Jax had been far more deft at peeling you out of all your layers, getting you naked so quickly that you hadn’t been aware of it at first. 

Somewhere through the cloud of alcohol swirling in your mind, you vaguely remembered his teeth sharply tugging on your nipples and biting at your shoulders, and you could somewhat recall the way he'd plunged two thick fingers deep inside of you while you’d been backed up against a wall. But unfortunately the copious amounts of whiskey in the short span of time had already made that part of your evening rather blurry and indecipherable. 

Though you were very present now. Or as present as you could be while being quite so under the influence.

At some point Jax had thrown you down onto the mess of sheets along his bed without any warning. The soft impact of the mattress hitting your stomach had left you slightly breathless, and you hadn’t quite recovered before you’d felt Jax climbing over the back of you. His bare, broad chest pressed you deeper into the bed as he ducked his head beside your ear, his hot breath intoxicating as it grazed over the side of your face. 

“You wanna stop thinkin’, huh?” Jax rasped. “Need it so rough you can't hear those stupid fuckin’ thoughts of yours?”

One of his hands came into view beside your head, fingers curled into a fist that pushed into the mattress as he held himself over the back of you. You could feel the weight of his cock resting between your ass–hard and heavy–but the slow glide of a calloused hand slipping around your throat quickly stole your attention along with your breath. 

His fingers tightened around the sides of your neck, the rough pads digging into the sensitive skin before he quickly jerked your head backwards and towards him with his firm grip. The pressure of his fingers closed off just a fraction of your airflow, causing your vision to tinge white as the wall in front of you blurred out of focus. The rings on his fingers were a cold contrast to the heat of his palm soaking into your flesh, and you went slack beneath him on the bed almost immediately.

“This what you wanted?” he asked, lips brushing the shell of your ear. 

You could squeeze harder. End it all now.

A strangled ‘mmph’ was the only assent you could muster in response, his fingers still partially blocking your airflow. But the muddled state of your mind was addicting, and the shifting of his naked body behind you only increased the dizzying sensation tingling in your brain with all of the whiskey. He could’ve done anything to you right now and you’d have allowed it, even taking your breath permanently.

So completely out of it as you lay slack beneath him, you hadn’t realized what he’d been doing until he pressed the thick head of his cock against your entrance. There was no hesitation that followed. With both of his muscular thighs bracketing yours between them, he rutted his hips firmly forward into your ass and slid his cock entirely inside of you. A gasping, garbled noise flung itself out between your lips as Jax continued to hold your head back with the single hand wrapped around your neck. 

“Fuck, that’s it, that’s it,” he groaned.

Eyes falling shut at his gravely voice beside your ear and the faint tickle of his beard along your shoulder, a soft moan came strangled from your throat. He was large enough that the stretch of him filled your pussy with an unfamiliar yet delicious sting that you could feel throbbing all the way in the back of your skull. Trapped beneath him on the bed, you shifted your hips along the mattress, weakly pushing back against him in a desperate attempt for him to do more than press his nearly full weight into you. 

“This what you need?”

His question came punctuated when he drew himself back until he’d almost slipped out before brutally slamming forward, his hips ramming right into the swell of your ass with an obscene sound. The resulting pleasure burn shot through you like a bolt of lightning straight up your spine and you groaned in response. Spurred on by the noise, Jax quickly set a rough rhythm that had your body molding itself into the mattress beneath him. He still hadn’t loosened the grip around your throat, and bright spots of colors began to bloom across your closed eyelids as the world around you felt like it was quite literally melting away. 

Make it all disappear.

“Needed a rough fuck to fix your fuckin’ head?” he panted beside your ear. “That what you’re lookin’ for, darlin’?”

“Ha–harder,” you gasped out.

A sharp grunt met your words, but Jax didn’t hesitate to comply. The hand he’d been pressing into the bed to steady himself over the back of you landed on your shoulder, and suddenly all of his weight was bearing down on you. His chest against your back crushed your own chest into the mattress beneath you, and you grew even more lightheaded as your neck relaxed into the hand around your throat. 

Jax pounded relentlessly into you from behind, his cock diving deeper and deeper until you swore you could feel him in your stomach. Your entire body burned with nothing but pleasure, your skin nearly buzzing with it as his sweat slicked body moved along the back of yours. Dizzy with overstimulation, you could feel each pull of his abdominal muscles along the back of you with every one of his savage thrusts.

“Like it filthy then?” he asked, growing breathless. “Want me to fuck this little pussy hard?”

With your eyes still closed and your mind more than half gone, you’d entirely succumbed to Jax. Nothing else existed in this moment, not any of your problems and not any of your pain, just the dangerous draw of completely losing yourself in him. You wanted to drown in this moment, to let your approaching climax sweep you away into nothing. 

“Need you to fuck me raw,” you breathlessly begged.

The request sounded nearly as strangled as you felt, and Jax temporarily hesitated behind you when he caught it. A low, animalistic growl rumbled in his chest, and you felt it vibrate through your own body beneath him, stirring all the way to the tips of your fingers curled around the messy sheets. Humming faintly in approval, your pussy tightened around his cock where it sat temporarily stalled inside of you. 

You swore you’d only blinked your eyes open before he’d moved. One second you’d been lying flat on your stomach with him over the top of you, a hand around your throat as he fucked you, and the next, Jax had your ass in the air. His hand was now shoving the back of your neck down into the bed with such force that you doubted you could’ve moved if you’d wanted to, your cheek smashed into the dark brown sheets. His other hand held both of your wrists locked at an angle behind your back that created a sharp pull in your shoulders. 

It seemed as if you’d unlocked something inside of Jax with your request, because his self-restraint had suddenly vanished. Two sharp, stinging smacks came down hard on your ass, the noise cracking through the room. When Jax had restarted his pace, he fucked into you with a savageness you hadn’t anticipated. His cock repeatedly slammed into a spot so deep inside that your breath caught in the back of your throat as drool spilled out of your lips, wetting the bed beside you.

You could feel your release steadily building with each rough, unsteady thrust of him from behind. Eyes partially rolling back behind closed eyelids, a slow, satisfied grin slipped onto your lips. Jax continued to grunt and snarl behind you like a wild animal, the rough sheets scratching against the side of your face. Maybe he wouldn’t strangle you here in his bed and fully silence your thoughts completely tonight, but for now you’d settle for the close second of bliss as he ruthlessly used you.

Tugging on his discarded shirt from the night before over his head, a sharp pain throbbed between Jax’s temples. He hadn’t drank nearly as much he could have last night, but the nearly two hours of sex with you afterwards hadn’t exactly helped matters. As he slid his shirt down over his chest, he studied the handful of bright red scratch marks and the few bitemarks that now adorned his skin. The corner of his lips drew up in a faint, pleased grin before his eyes drifted back towards his bed.

His empty bed. You’d passed out in it at some point when he’d needed a break to take a piss, and when he’d stepped back into his room from the bathroom, you were curled up naked on top of his sheets entirely done for. He’d tucked you beneath the blankets before joining you, not having the heart to kick you out of his room like he would’ve done to any of the other girls considering how rough your night already seemed. But somehow when he’d woken this morning, you’d already disappeared. With how much whiskey you’d downed last night, Jax was surprised you’d even managed to wake up before him. 

Stepping over towards his nightstand, Jax swiped the pack of cigarettes and his lighter from atop it. Guilt steadily pooled in the pit of his stomach as he glanced once more at where you’d slept beside him last night. Had he been too rough with you and that’s why you’d ducked out? He admittedly hadn’t meant to be quite that intense and take things so far, but you’d seemed to be enjoying yourself and encouraging him to be rougher and rougher with you.Truthfully, no girl had ever asked him to ‘fuck them raw’ before, and the memory of your hoarse voice begging for it even now set his blood on fire. 

With a shake of his head, Jax tried to shove the memories of last night from his mind. He didn’t need to get hard thinking about his time in bed with you, he needed a fucking smoke. You were probably fine. You might’ve woken up in the middle of the night and come to your senses, realizing a girl like you didn’t belong in a place like this lying beside a man like him. At least he’d tried to show you his version of compassion last night–as much as Jax knew how to give it to a sad woman that he barely knew. 

Heading out of his room and down the hall, Jax could hear a few of the other guys already waking up in the main room of the clubhouse. Painful groans mingled with low chatter as Jax stepped out of the hallway, his eyes squinting at the harsh sunlight pouring in through the windows. Heads turned in his direction and Jax nodded in greeting, slipping a cigarette out of the pack in his hand.

“Sounded like you had a good night, Jackie boy,” Chibs stated from a couch.

Jax slid the unlit cigarette between his lips as they twisted into a sly grin. You hadn’t exactly been the quietest while he’d been fucking you all night. He’d even got you screaming a few times. 

“Looks like you had a good night, too,” Bobby said gruffly, half-heartedly gesturing a tired hand at Jax’s neck from his seat at the bar. “Fuck a vampire? ‘Cause it looks like she was searchin’ for an artery.”

“You’re just jealous you don’t meet anyone half as fun, old man,” Jax shot back around the cigarette between his lips. 

“Seemed like a wild one,” Chibs agreed, leaning back on the couch. “Never seen the girl in here before, but she had some balls with the way I heard her talkin’ to you at the bar, Jackie.”

Jax chuckled softly as he flipped his lighter open, bringing the flame up towards the tip of his cigarette while recalling your boldness. You’d certainly lost your filter, or maybe you never had one to begin with. But the door to the clubhouse swung open before he could light his cigarette, and a distraught prospect stepped inside as the flame of his lighter hovered before him. The prospect waved a sharp hand towards one of the windows that overlooked the street, and the terrified look in his eyes had Jax flipping his lighter shut and removing the unlit cigarette from between his lips, pressing it firmly between two of his fingers as he tipped his head to the side.

“What is it?” Jax asked.

“There’s a–a body on the street?” the prospect stammered. 

The second the words left his mouth, every Son averted their attention straight to the window to look. Taking a few steps forward and peering through the glass, Jax squinted at the bright mid-morning sunlight that worsened the throbbing in his head. He could just make out a dark form lying halfway in the street. His eyes narrowed further before he recognized the dark tank top and the faded denim shorts, and then the color drained from his face. His pulse slowed to a near stop as your drunken voice entered his mind. 

“I’d be thrilled for the rest of that bottle or a car rollin’ over me.”

Jax’s stomach gave a sharp lurch before his head snapped over his shoulder, his eyes fixing on the prospect. “So you just left her in the goddamn street?” he demanded, fury in his eyes. “Did you even check her for a fuckin’ pulse?”

“I mean I didn’t think–I wasn’t sure she–”

Tossing the unlit cigarette carelessly across the room, Jax purposefully strode through the clubhouse without wasting another second on the stupid prospect. Fear climbed itself up his chest, ensnaring his heart as it continued unsteadily pounding inside of him. 

He’d thought you were just being overdramatic when you’d said all those things last night about not wanting to wake up, even if some small part of him still screamed in alarm at your words. He’d assumed you were just some girl having a real shit go of things lately and looking to blow off steam, but as he pushed open the door to the clubhouse and hurried through the parking lot with the others following behind, his stomach dropped straight to the ground. 

He'd been so fucking wrong.

A good ten feet from where you lay in the street sat a shattered bottle of Buffalo Trace Whiskey, the glass shards scattered across the pavement and glinting in the morning sunlight. Carefully stepping around it, Jax tried to swallow the thick lump forming in the back of his throat. You must’ve woken sometime in the middle of the night and thrown on your clothes after leaving his bed. You’d probably stumbled through the passed out bodies littering the clubhouse and stolen that bottle from behind the bar before coming out here and chugging it. 

It was definitely you laying halfway in the middle of the street. Two large crows were circling your feet, one of them pecking at your shoes where the heel had snapped off it. You laid half-curled on your side with your back towards him, and Jax’s heart shattered into as many pieces as that bottle of whiskey behind him as he continued to approach your lifeless form. He shouted at the birds until they flew off to perch on a building across the street, watching and waiting nearby. Their presence didn't ease his increasing fear that maybe you weren’t arlight.

When he finally reached you, Jax genuinely could not determine whether you were alive or not. Your chest didn’t seem to be visibly rising and falling as if you were breathing, and you were laying near a puddle of dried vomit not even a foot from your face. Splatters of it were dried on your shirt and shorts, staining your clothes in sick. He carefully crouched down beside you, his nose scrunching at the repugnant scent of warm vomit in the air as he scanned over you. That unwelcome, churning increased in his gut when he saw a handful of scrapes and cuts along your hands and legs, injuries you’d probably sustained from when you’d blacked out and fallen on the pavement. 

“She okay?” Bobby called out.

The other Sons who’d woken early despite their own hangovers gradually neared the curb, all of them craning their necks in concern to get a look at the possible dead body in front of their compound. Slowly reaching out a hand, Jax gently placed two fingers along your neck and searched for a pulse. He hadn’t realized he’d been holding his breath until he found it, the softest, trembling beating beneath his fingers. Exhaling heavily in relief, Jax glanced up at his brothers who’d gathered along the side of the road, each of them eyeing your unconscious form on the ground with unease.

“Yeah,” Jax croaked out, surprised at the sound of his own voice. “She’s still got a pulse.”

Focusing back down at where you lay in the street, Jax brushed a few fingers lightly along your cheek in an attempt to rouse you as he called your name. Except you didn’t react to his touch or his voice, still lying unconscious in the middle of the street. That guilt from earlier rose up inside of himself, curling around his heart as his fingers trailed down the side of your neck and towards the bitemarks he’d left on your shoulder. He should’ve known it wasn’t sex and booze you needed, and he shouldn’t have used you like he had last night. Not when you were quite this bad.

“What’d you do’, darlin’?” he murmured. “Shouldn’t be fuckin’ doin’ this to yourself.”

With a heavy sigh, Jax slipped one arm beneath your knees while wrapping his other arm around your shoulders. Carefully lifting you up from off the street, he cradled you against his chest, refusing to leave you just lying in the middle of the road. You hung limp in his hold, your neck slung back at a jarring angle across his arm as one hand slid off your stomach and dangled helplessly towards the ground. You looked nothing like the girl he’d met last night, the one who’d had a sharp tongue and a wicked smile that set his heart racing. While he might not have really known you, he’d started to like you in the short time he’d spent with you, and you were far too young to be throwing your life away like this.

“Looks like alcohol poisoning,” Tig pointed out, scanning over your limp body in Jax’s arms. “Should probably get her to the hospital. Gotta feelin’ a cold shower ain’t gonna cut it for her.”

 “I’ll call her an ambulance," Bobby offered.

Bobby began to pull his cell phone out of his pocket, but Jax looked over at him, quickly catching his eyes and shaking his head. You’d told him last night that you’d lost your job and were getting evicted from your apartment, he figured the last thing you needed was a massive ambulance bill on top of the hospital bill. That'd probably just land you right back in this state–or worse. 

“I’ll drive her myself,” Jax said. “Gonna borrow the van and bring her in. Make sure she’s good.”

Ignoring the curious looks the others sent him, Jax carried you through the parking lot and towards one of the black vans parked in front of Teller-Morrow. He knew this was unlike him. At most, Jax probably would’ve called an ambulance and tasked one of the prospects to sit with a girl who’d drank far too much, so a personal ride to the hospital seemed rather out of character. But he couldn’t leave you with someone else, it didn’t feel like an option. Especially not with how vulnerable you looked hanging motionless in his arms.

Carrying you across the lot and towards the black van parked in front of the garage, Jax’s gaze kept drifting down to where you lay seemingly lifeless against his chest. A frown sunk onto his lips at the limp way you dangled in his arms and the blank expression on your face. For some unexplainable reason, he felt like you’d somehow become his responsibility after only a few hours of your company. And yet he felt like he’d failed you last night, getting you drunker and fucking you like an asshole instead of seeing that you’d needed help.

“You’re gonna be fine, darlin’,” he assured you, carefully readjusting you in his grip as he neared the back of the van. “This ain’t the end for you, a’ight? You got more shit ahead of you. Probably picket fences and all that, yeah? I’m not gonna let you duck out early ‘cause of some bullshit. You got that, wild girl? You ain’t fuckin’ done yet.”