#soa x reader

Jax's girl was wearing a white t-shirt that stopped right above her belly button, and a pair of low hanging cotton shorts, white too, to match with her sandals. She had a big insulated lunch bag hanging off one shoulder, and her handbag on the other, her many keyrings rattling with every step.

Half-Sack quickly wiped his hands and jogged to relieve her off the weight on her shoulders, like a true gentleman. 

"Oh my God, thank you," She sighed in relief when Half-Sack swung the heavy bag on his shoulder instead.

"It's nothing," He smiled with a shrug while she waved her face with one hand, as if that'll do anything against the day's heat.

"Let's get out of the sun," She quickly said, rushing to get in the shade and lean against the wall to catch her breath for hauling the bag around for five minutes. She could've drove here but it's such a short walk, and someone has got to think about the environment.

Half-Sack puts the bag down next to her and looks around for Jax, asking one of the mechanics if they've seen him. "He's with the red Peugeot," One of them nods their head towards the back.

"Oh," Half-Sack nods, he turns to the girl, "I'll go get him,"

"Thank you, Half-Sack," She smiles, squeezing his shoulder, making sure to avoid the black greasy stain on the fabric of his grey t-shirt.

She likes Half-Sack, he's pretty cool, it's just that sometimes she's convinced he fixes cars with his whole body instead of his hands, like, what's up with that?

Anyway, her boyfriend shows up, followed by Half-Sack. Jax's wiping his hands on a rag and he's smiling, happy to see her pretty face. A couple of big strides and he's right there in her space, bending down and kissing her, "Hey, baby,"

"I got lunch," She says between his pecks and he's smiling like a fool.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, I just need you to do something for me, but first," She steps back a little, and Jax follows her, trying to get another taste of her lips, but stops when he realises he's right in the middle of their auto shop, and that's not really badass of him.

Before she can tell him what to do, she turns to the lunch bag on the floor and pull out a chocolate chip cookie, the size of her hand, wrapped in a napkin. Jax watches her go to where Half-Sack's perched over a car, elbow deep in its guts and she calls his name. He turns around, surprised, and she sticks the cookie in his face and he grins.

Half-Sack takes his hands out of the car and wipes his palms messily on his jeans, she scrunches her nose and he looks a little embarrassed when she peels off the tissue paper and presents it to him so he could take a bite.

Half-Sack takes a bite, a big one, and he's so surprised and delighted at the taste, "Did you make that?" He asks, mouth full, a little bit of crumbs falling down his shirt.

"Yes, and don't go telling anyone I gave you a cookie," She laughs when he moans and takes the cookie from her fingers, "Oh, thank you!"

She walks back to Jax, who manages to look incredibly handsome in his dirty grey t-shirt with sweat stains, and his black jeans that are surely filthy, even if their colour hides it well, but he's got dust on the knee area, so he's had to be on the floor at some point, sweating away in this summer heat, working hard. 

The rag he wiped his hands with is now tucked in his back pocket, and his hair was downright a mess, sticking haphazardly in all directions. She's sure everything was tied in a ponytail before, but now half of his hair has escaped the hair tie.

"Jax, where do you wanna eat?" She asks and he scratches his forehead, leaving a black mark on his skin, "What?"

She softens up then and links her finger on a belt hoop in his jeans, pulling him in a little. If it was any other day, or weather, she would've hugged him, regardless of her all white outfit, but it was too damn hot for that.

"When was the last time you had water?" She asks and he looks away, thinking, "I had a beer half an hour ago,"

"Jackson," She sighs and he groans, "I'm sorry, I just needed something to take the edge off, I'm tired, baby,"

"Okay, do you want to eat in the office? Or out here in the shade? I can see you guys moved the benches closer to the building," She asked.

"Outside," Jax answers and she nods, "Go wash your hands and we'll eat, yeah? I made burrito wraps,"

"I love you," He grins.

"I love you too, now go," She pushes him towards the toilets and he jogs there.

Taking the bag to the bench was easy work, considering the benches were right there, and she was determined to feed her surely hungry and tired boyfriend.

She takes out a water bottle, perfectly cold in her hands and a small plastic container, and that's when Jax comes back, face a little wet along with the collar of his t-shirt. He's grinning until he sees her take a baby blue scrunchie and hairbrush out from her handbag.

"What're you doing?" Jax asks, confused, about to sit next to her on the bench.

"I'm brushing that bird's nest, and I've got a scrunchie, it's better than that tiny band you use, baby," She says, sitting with the table to her back, feet on the ground.

"Can I eat first?"

"You'll eat while I brush your hair and tie it, sit down," She points at the space between her legs on the floor.

"Are you serious?" Jax asks while she stares at him, completely unimpressed.

"Jax," she warns him, and it's a little annoying because he'll feel much better when she brushes and ties his hair, she even got a spare clean t-shirt at the bottom of the lunch bag, that's probably cold by now because of the fresh lemonade she made, perfect for the weather.

Jax stares at her without moving and that's irritating because usually he just listens when she's trying to take care of him, but it looks like the heat messed up with his head today.

"Sit your ass down," She hisses through clenched teeth, pointing at the floor with wide eyes. Jax flinches in surprise at being scolded by his girlfriend, and he's never seen her do that face before. He's so shocked that a laugh bubbles out of his throat and before he knows it, he's sitting on the floor, his back to hers, and he's got a cold water bottle in his hands, and a plastic container with apple slices covered in cinnamon and sugar.

He's still giggling when she's brushing his hair out of his face, gathering it in her hand to tie it.

"What's so funny?" She asks with a raised brow.

"Nothing," Jax says after swallowing his apple slice and licking cinnamon and sugar off his fingers, and drinking half of the water bottle all in one go.

When she ties his hair in a bun, making sure not to do it too tight, because she knows Jax finds it uncomfortable, she smacks a kiss onto his forehead, upside down, "There, all done,"

Jax gets back up from the floor, container empty and he kisses her on the cheek, "Thanks, sweetheart,"

"You're welcome," She smiles, taking out almost everything she packed in the twenty litre insulated lunch bag.

On the table, they have homemade burrito wraps, salad, chips with dips and sauces she knows Jax and herself like. They've got fresh cold lemonade, coke in case he doesn't want lemonade, two slices of lemon cheesecake, cookies, and even more burrito wraps, all wrapped in aluminium foil.

"Darlin', you're spoiling me," Jax grins, sitting across her now, and he leans over the table to grab her chin and press a sweet kiss to her mouth.

"It's the least I could do," She smiles, cupping the hand on her chin and Jax groans, hungry and a little turned on, "Don't say to me or I'll put a ring on your finger,"

"Alright, big boy, calm down, eat first, and then talk about putting a ring on my finger," She laughs lightheartedly.

Jax kisses her again and sits back down, grabbing a burrito, "You made like ten of these, who's gonna eat all of that?" He rips the aluminium to expose the wrap and takes a huge bite, just about avoiding biting into aluminium foil as well.

She unscrews the lemonade bottle and pours him a cup, and then opens the salad container, sticking a fork in it, in front of him, "For the others, I know there aren't a lot of guys in today, so I made extra,"

"Oh, angel, you shouldn't have," He coos, stuffing salad in his mouth and a chip too, right after.

"I wanted to," She smiles, taking a satisfied sip of her lemonade.

Jax chews and swallows, then he turns around, "Half-Sack! Call everyone and get over here!"

Half-Sack does right as he's told, because he's sure it has to do with food, and who doesn't love free homemade food?

It takes Half-Sack less than a minute to gather everyone and bring them to Jax and his girlfriend, sitting at the bench. Jax wipes his mouth with a tissue, "Alright, my gorgeous girl made you losers homemade burritos, grab one and thank her,"

She flushes, smiling big when the men reach inside the lunch bag to grab a wrap, and every time, without fail, they thank her with a grateful nod. Half of them go back inside, and the other half are too excited and hungry to sit so they unwrap the burritos and take a bite right there, standing around Jax and his girl.

You occupy your time with tv shows, movies, books. Cleaning, tidying, cooking. Anything that’ll keep your mind from racing, wondering what Jax is doing, what the club are talking about, if they’re in trouble yet again.

But there’s none of that tonight. Tonight, you’re sat on the couch in nothing but a t shirt that belongs to your boyfriend, staring into empty space. All because you can’t stop thinking about something that happened this morning.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The glass had slipped from your hand before you could stop it, shattering all over the clubhouse floor. A chorus of patronising but amused sounds echoed around you, coming from all of the guys sat at the table.

Jax jumps up from his seat immediately, standing up to see if you’re alright.

“Ooo, Daddy’s disappointed.”

The quip has come from Tig, to no one’s surprise. You look up from your knees to see that actually, Jax doesn’t look disappointed. There’s a sparkle in his eye that you can’t quite put your finger on. It’s mischief and curiosity and self satisfaction all at once.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

It’s replayed in your head all day.

That damn look in his eye.

At first, you thought that maybe it was because you were on your knees on the ground. He’s been very vocal about how he will never, ever, get sick of the sight of you staring up at him.

But the more you think about it, the more there’s no denying that the twinkle in his eye appeared when Tig had called him Daddy. Or maybe you’re just convincing yourself to twist the situation to fit the fantasies that swirl around in your head day in, day out.

You’re so lost in your thoughts that you don’t hear the side door open, footsteps rumbling across your kitchen floor.

“Baby, what have I told you about waiting up?”

“Hey,” you breathe, always happy to see him. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Too busy daydreamin’,” he observes, wrapping his arms around you from behind. “Wish I could read your mind.”

“You don’t,” you laugh, securing your arms over his to squeeze him tight. “It’s not very interesting.”

He smells like gasoline and smoke, all musky and masculine. The scent of him drives you insane, like some sort of instant aphrodisiac designed just for you.

“Missed ya,” he whispers in your ear, pressing his body into yours. “Been thinking about you all day. Was secretly hoping you’d be sittin’ all pretty for me when I got back. And here you are, wearing nothing but my shirt, lookin’ like a goddamn angel.”

“I’ve been waiting for you.”

“What did I do to deserve a sweetheart like you, huh?”

You hum, leaning back into the firm warmth of him.

“Now tell me, my little daydreamer… what have you been thinking about?”

His hands migrate from your waist, skimming up your body so they’re massaging your tits.

“Just you,” you breathe. “Always you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He’s hot and heavy against your back, grinding his hips into your ass to relieve some of the friction that’s driving him insane.

One of his hands winds it way around your neck, squeezing ever so gently to make you even dizzier. His other hand is slipping under his shirt that you’re wearing to cup you over your panties, his middle finger swiping along the seam to feel how wet you are.

“You’re fuckin’ soakin’,” he groans, all deep and raspy. “Fuck, you’re nothing but a desperate whore after midnight. Sittin’ here, thinking about all the things you want me to do to you when I get home…”

You seem to have lost your words, rendered speechless as you buck your hips to try and get him where you want him.

“What d’ya want, baby? Tell me.”

“Fingers,” you choke. “Please.”

He whips your panties down your legs before you can even process it, kicking your ankles apart to give him better access. His fingers are dragging through your core in an instant, gathering your slick and sliding right in without any protest.

Jax curls his digits and buckles your knees as he does it, while you grip onto the countertop for dear life.

“Right there? Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Filthy girl. Filthy fuckin’ girl.”

All you can do is whine, panting for breath as he slides his fingers in and out, his pace utterly relentless.

“Oh, baby. Can you feel it dripping down your legs? Can you feel it soakin’ my hand? My favourite little whore. Just can’t think straight when I’m touchin’ you, can ya?”

He’s rasping the words right into your ear, his breath tickling your neck and giving you instant goosebumps.

“Jax.”

“Atta girl. Say my name, darlin’. Let everyone know who you belong to.”

You’re not sure if it’s the way he’s curling his fingers, or the honeyed words he’s rasping down your ear, or the fact that he’s claiming you as his so brazenly that it makes you dizzy, but it slips off your tongue before you can even think about stopping it.

“Daddy.”

His movements halt completely, both of you frozen in place. You figure if you don’t move a muscle or make a sound, he’ll carry on like nothing occurred in the first place.

That doesn’t happen.

Instead, Jax pulls you flush to his body, plastering you to his chest. One hand is still in between your legs, the other one tightening its grip around your throat. He’s panting like he’s run a marathon, body vibrating with animalistic need.

“Oh honey… what was that?”

“Hmm?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, smart girl.”

You shrug, which is the wrong move entirely.

“Nuh uh, you ain’t getting away that easy. Repeat yourself, baby. Tell me what you said.”

You’re still hesitating, reluctant to potentially embarrass yourself. Jax dips his head so his mouth his resting against your ear, teeth nipping at that spot on your neck he knows makes you weak.

“Spit. It. Out.”

“Daddy,” you breathe, somewhat relieved to not have to bottle it up anymore. “Fuck, daddy.”

“That’s my girl,” he purrs, and you can hear the grin in his voice. “That’s my fucking girl.”

His hand that was around your neck twists itself into your hair as his other hand pushes you firmly between your shoulder blades, bending you over the kitchen counter. He kicks your ankles apart, folding himself right over you.

“Daddy’s gonna fuck you now, pretty girl. Gonna fuck you until you can’t remember anyone’s name but mine.”

Both of you groan when he slides inside with no resistance. You grip the edge of the countertop for stability, knowing you’ll fly over it if you don’t hold on.

“Fuck, you feel like heaven. A filthy fucking angel.”

“Jax,” you choke. “You feel so good.”

He presses a gentle kiss to your head before setting a brutal pace with his hips, his pelvis slamming into your ass with every thrust. It takes everything in you to stay upright, knees buckling every time he pulls back and re enters.

“All mine,” he growls as he tugs your hair so your back arches. “Who do you belong to, hmm?”

“You,” you manage to squeak out. “You.”

“Hmm? Who?”

“You, Jax.”

“Say that again?”

“You, daddy. Fuck.”

“There it is. Perfect girl.”

He’s changed his angle ever so slightly to tilt his hips upwards, meaning he’s hitting exactly the right spot every time he slams into you. You’re dizzy with it, overwhelmed in the best way, gasping for air as your climax gets closer and closer.

“You wanna come? Yeah?”

All you can do is nod your head frantically, desperate for the release that’s been building up all day.

“Ask for it. Beg me like the whore you are.”

“Please,” you instantly start babbling. “Please, Jax. Want it, please.”

“So polite,” he laughs, tone dripping with condescension. “That’s not what I want to hear though, and you know it.”

You take a deep breath, willing yourself to think straight for one minute.

“Please let me come, daddy.”

That’s all he needs. He pulls his hand from your hair and slides it down your front, rubbing quick and firm circles on your clit to throw you over the edge. It does the trick instantly, your legs turning to jelly as your head tilts back and your back arches. Your orgasm rips through you like a tidal wave, uncontrollable and all consuming in the best way.

You’re squeezing him so tight that Jax can’t hold on any longer, coming inside you with a deep groan that rumbles through both of your bones.

All that can be heard is two sets of lungs heaving for air, both of you half collapsed on the cool wood of the countertop. Jax wraps his arms around you, cushioning the impact as he hooks his foot around your ankle to take you both down to the ground. You melt against him on the kitchen floor, revelling in the warmth of his body against the cold bite of the tiles. Your boyfriend presses a kiss to your hair, fingertips tracing absent minded patterns across any skin he can reach.

You’re not sure if you’ve been laying there for five minutes or an hour when Jax speaks.

“So how long have you been sitting on that one, huh?”

“Shut up,” you whine, burying your face in his chest.

“Nuh uh, daddy wants an answer,” he teases, squeezing you as tightly as he can.

“I hate you,” you laugh, trying to squirm out of his grip to no avail.

“Daddy loves you too.”

“I hate you.”

Jax was not having a good day. 

He was woken up extremely early by Clay, who had sent him to go run errands for him at the crack of dawn, so he was more tired than normal. 

The two of them hadn’t been agreeing on much lately, and it was really putting a strain on their relationship, as well as Jax’s place as future president of Samcro. 

Jax wasn’t a fan of being on Clay’s bad side (though he’s on it quite often), so he was trying his best to mend the strain as well as he could, but it was difficult when he wasn’t being met halfway. But that was really the only thing that was going south in Jax’s life at the moment, so it really wasn’t too bad considering his lifestyle. 

He’d been up for hours already, and he hadn’t gotten the best sleep last night, so he was a little grumpy. He thought maybe since he helped Clay out earlier, he’d be in a better mood, but he was wrong. 

When he got back to the clubhouse, he was planning on stopping by your place because he knew you were the only thing that would make his day better, and since it was still early, he didn’t want to keep feeling irritated for the rest of the day.

But, just as he was getting ready to head back out, Clay had called him into the chapel for a talk, and even though Jax had a feeling that talk wasn’t anything good, he still went ahead and put himself through it. 

The talk had been even worse than Jax thought it would be. Clay had finally picked up on what was going on between you and him, even though neither of you were doing anything to hide it. 

Jax had spent his whole life running from his feelings for you, why on earth would he go into hiding now that he’s got you? 

But that was maybe something he should’ve been doing, because Clay was not happy with the amount of time Jax had been spending with you. Ever since he was made VP, there had been an intense pressure put on Jax, and an expectation for him to put all of his time and effort into the club.

That was understandable and somewhat fine, but Clay himself had been in a committed relationship the whole time Jax had known him, and he was the president of the club. Wouldn’t he understand that he couldn’t actually put every single second he had into it?

Apparently not, because he had completely ripped into Jax the second he stepped through those doors. Accusations were hurled at him, and insults that really had no effect on him were what he was met with, and Jax had to bite his tongue too many times to count. 

He didn’t enjoy bickering with Clay, even though that was all they seemed to be doing lately, so he didn’t fly off the handle with him like he really wanted to. He simply took it while holding himself back, knowing that the sooner Clay said everything he wanted to say, the sooner Jax could go to you. 

But that was when you had become the topic of Clay’s wrath. 

He berated you, degraded you, and said all the things that would have had Jax knocking someone’s teeth out had they’d been anyone else. Clay didn’t know you, he didn’t know the first fucking thing about you, and he had no right to be speaking about you the way he was. 

The more Clay talked about you, the angrier Jax had got, but he had to reel himself in. The last thing he needed was another disagreement and for more bad blood to form between the two of them, and he also didn’t feel like beating the shit out of the man who helped his mom raise him, even though Jax was three seconds away from doing just that. 

He knew damn well everything Clay was saying about you was complete bullshit, but he didn’t want to say something that would make him think there was something serious going on with you and him. 

Even though there is. There definitely is, and it was about time too. 

Jax had been pining over you for most of his life, even though he did a very poor fucking job at showing it or doing anything about his feelings for you. He knew he was trying to run from something that was inevitable. He knew that, for as long as he had you in his life, he would always feel this way about you. Trying to run from it or hide how he felt was pointless, because there would always be countless reminders. 

The polaroid he keeps tucked in the frame of his mirror - one that was taken so long ago. Both of you were so young and, well, as innocent as you could be. Even though it was from forever ago, it was still one of his favorite photos. It wasn’t the best quality, and the color had faded over time, but it was probably in better shape than most of his possessions. 

In the photo, he has his arm draped around your shoulder, a small, barely-there grin on his face since he thought he was way too fucking cool to smile for pictures back then - even though he was rarely not smiling when he was around you. 

You were both leaning against an old car, your legs crossed and your bodies slouched. There was an embarrassed, lopsided smile on your face, and your hair was half pink, which was still one of his favorite looks on you. 

It was different, and that made it so you, because you were different too. A good kind of different. The best kind. 

There were bright white clips pinning back the sides of your hair, your baby face on full display and was probably why you looked so embarrassed. For some reason, you never seemed to believe you were pretty back then, even though Jax always thought you were stunning and tried to tell you that on a regular basis, but he was subtle about it, and you’d always been clueless. 

Gemma had taken the photo when you and he were waiting for your mom to pick you up from the shop after work. Jax had been there all day, and you had only been there for an hour or so since you came there from school, and he had long since dropped out at that point. 

You hung out with him until your mom came and picked you up, then Gemma had given him the polaroid, and he’d kept a close eye on it ever since. He had to hide it in his drawer for a few years since Tara had become quite irritated by the sight of it, which was probably why the saturation was so poor now, but it was still one of his most cherished belongings. 

Under that polaroid, on the surface of his dresser, was an updated picture. An actual photograph taken on a camera that wasn’t made twenty years ago, and it was a lot bigger. 

This one was from a few years ago, and taken around the time Jax realized that he needed to get a move on if he wanted something with you - even though it still took him a few years after to actually work up the nerve. 

He was on his bike, his arms crossed and a lazy smirk on his face, and you were behind him, your arms wrapped around his middle, and the biggest, prettiest smile was on your lips. With time, he got to watch you go from a shy and awkward girl to the stunning and not overly-confident, but still confident, woman you are today. 

That was his second favorite photo. 

There were other reminders of you everywhere he looked, your chapstick you keep in his room, your sweater that always gets left on the chair in the corner, the smell of your perfume still lingering on his kutte and his clothes. 

Everything reminded him of you, really, and that was probably why he decided to say fuck it and kiss you all those months ago. He was done pretending you weren’t his entire world, he was done running from the one thing he knew would always make him happy. 

And you did make him happy. Beyond happy, but having Clay know that and and use it as a form of weakness or a way to try and rile him up was not ideal. 

So he lied. 

When Clay informed Jax that he was aware of what was quickly blossoming into the best relationship Jax had ever been in, he fucking lied. 

He lied his ass off and said you weren’t important, that you didn’t matter, that you were just another girl, but it was all a lie. One big, mean lie he had to say to ensure Clay would leave you alone and stay out of your business. 

The absolute last thing he wanted was for Clay to start giving you a hard time since apparently Jax had been too invested in you lately and not the club, which was bullshit in his opinion since he’s had to watch the president of the club be all over his mother for years while still calling all the shots. 

Nothing he said about you was true, but Clay seemed to believe it as he let Jax leave soon after that conversation was over, thank fuck. 

It left him feeling agitated and pissed off, and when he got back to his room and checked his phone for the first time that morning, he saw that he’d missed a couple calls from you, and that you’d sent him a few texts. 

The last one was sent just over twenty minutes ago, and Jax quickly shut his door as he clicked on your contact. It rang five times before he was sent to your voicemail, and he groaned, because that was when he remembered that today was the day you’d be going on a trip with your class, and you wouldn’t be back until late. 

You had told him about it a few days ago, and he had meant to pass on an invite for you to crash in his room afterwards, but he just hadn’t gotten around to it. 

It was too late now, and since you didn’t answer his call, he assumed he had just missed you and that you were already wrangling up your third graders and getting them ready for the trip. 

He reached up and pulled off his hat, tossing it blindly onto the chair as he slumped back onto his unmade bed. His fingers messed up his hair as he typed out a text to you, and he hoped you’d get back to him soon, because he really wanted to see you at some point today, and he hoped you’d come by after you got back. 

Just missed you, I guess. Sorry, meant to swing by before you left for work. Maybe you can come by after? I’ll be up late. Or I can come to yours. Have a good day. 

He sent the text then looked at the screen for a few seconds, as if your top priority right now was going to be checking your phone, then he tossed it aside on his bed, his head falling back onto his pillow. 

He wanted to see you before you left, but of course Clay had instantly put him to work as soon as he woke up, and it took away the brief time he could’ve been spending with you, especially since the errands he had to do weren’t all that big of a deal anyway. 

Jax didn’t want to think of himself as one of those guys who needs to see their girlfriends to be able to properly start their day, but that was exactly what he was. Well, he didn’t have to see you, though he preferred to, a simple phone call would be good too. 

And then there was the fact that you weren’t his girlfriend, not really, since he hadn’t put a label on it just yet. He assumed he didn’t need to, because he was with you and you were with him. Wasn’t that a label? Things had always been easy like that with you and him, he genuinely thought that you and he would easily go from friends to so much more without actually talking it out. 

He knows he needs to set the record straight soon and tell you that you’re it for him, but for now, you and he were in a good place, and he liked where things were at the moment. 

You never got back to him, and by the time it was nearly midnight, he stopped waiting for a reply since he assumed you’d been so busy throughout the day, you didn’t have time to answer and probably ended up crashing as soon as you got home. 

He was sure he’d wake up tomorrow to a text from you, one of the cute ones you send him whenever you feel guilty about missing out on plans with him or when you simply missed his texts. You rambled, even over text, and he rather enjoyed reading your paragraphs when all you really needed to send was a sentence or two. 

But he loved it. He loved everything about you, and he always had. 

When he woke up the next morning, it was close to 11 AM when he rolled over and checked his phone, but instead of receiving one of your cute and lengthy texts, all he got was a single sentence. 

Got in late, maybe another night. 

One single, simple sentence that sounded more like the way he texts than the way you do. 

While his texts usually lacked personality, yours were normally full of it. They were so you, and you texted the way you talked in person, which was bubbly and full of life. 

This seemed dull, and that wasn’t like you. 

But he wasn’t about to dwell or make assumptions over a text. Maybe you were tired. You said you had a late night, so maybe you were still trying to wake up. 

He sent a quick text back, offering to bring you a late breakfast and promising he’d be able to spend more than just a quick visit with you since it was the weekend and he hadn’t been given any grueling orders from Clay. 

While he didn’t normally wait around for a text message, he couldn’t ignore how the time was ticking by, and you hadn’t answered him. He didn’t know if you saw the text and just wanted to have a chill day by yourself, or if you genuinely hadn’t even read it yet, but when it became the late afternoon, his offer had expired since Gemma would need his help with something for the rest of the day. 

That was fine, since Jax ended up being distracted until he passed out on his bed well after midnight. He half expected to wake up to a text from you, an apology message and an offer to have that late breakfast today, but when he grabbed his phone, there were no texts from you. 

It was a little odd, since you usually text him every day, even the most random shit, so to have you absent from his messages was a little weird. 

He got dressed as he texted you again, trying to ignore the way he felt about you having completely ignored his previous one, and asked if he could stop by your place later since he missed you. 

He felt weird asking if he could come over, because usually he just shows up, like you show up at the clubhouse and let him whisk you away to his room, but things felt off right now, and he didn’t want to show up and have you be annoyed at him for it since he clearly missed out on the hint. 

The day went on, and you never got back to him. 

And as the days went on, all his texts to you went unanswered, and all his calls went straight to voicemail. 

What the fuck was happening? What the hell had he missed? He obviously missed something major since it wasn’t like you at all to just ignore him like this. He thought back to the last time he saw you, which was last Thursday morning, and tried to remember everything that happened, and if you seemed off. 

As far as he could tell, you were as happy as ever that morning. You had invited him over for takeout and old movies on Wednesday, and he ended up staying the night. There was nothing different about you that night, and you were your usual, beaming self. You had forced yourself into his arms when he arrived, then whined when he had to leave the next morning. 

He hadn’t seen you since then, and he hadn’t been able to reach you since then, so he wasn’t sure when something could’ve possibly happened that is making you be so closed off with him. 

Maybe you just needed some space. Maybe you were going through something right now, and you just needed a little time to yourself, even though Jax would be a little offended that you didn’t come to him if something truly is bothering you. You tell him everything, and he tells you everything, with the exception of the club, because he didn’t want you anywhere near that lifestyle. You were way too good for it. 

He wasn’t ashamed of it, but he also knew that you were far too sweet and far too innocent to be caught up in that part of his life. Every other part was as much yours as it is his, though. 

It was Wednesday now, and despite his best efforts to get you to talk to him, Jax had received radio silence on your end. He tried going over to your place, but you either weren’t home, or you simply didn’t come to the door, and it’s not like he could just show up at your work. You worked at an elementary school, and he didn’t have kids, so that would’ve looked fucking weird. 

The clubhouse was booming, the framed mugshots shaking on the walls from how loud the music was, and every room was flooded with the guys that made up the club, as well as a fair share of crow eaters. 

Yet another raging Samcro party was in full swing, and while Jax normally enjoyed the parties, it was hard to ignore the way his arm hung loosely by his side, instead of it being draped over your shoulder or wrapped around your waist. It was normal for you and him, so to not have you here was a little unnerving. 

Even before you and he got together, you were always under his arm. You didn’t like crowded places, and you weren’t all that familiar with anyone who made up Samcro except for himself and Ope, so you naturally stayed close to him. He didn’t mind it at all, in fact, Jax loved having you glued to his side. 

Sure, it usually meant the girls stayed away from him, and even though there were some nights he craved finding one and taking her back to his room to try and find something in her that he’d only ever found in you, he never minded having you by his side. 

The thought of taking any of these girls back to his room made him cringe now, because you were the real deal. What he has with you is unlike anything else he’s ever had before, and he’d become rather spoiled by you in the months you’d been together. 

He hated thinking about the nights he’d spend with you at parties, then the times he’d instantly take one of the crow eaters back to his room once you’d gone home, and he’d fuck her while pretending she was you. 

It felt like a waste of time now, especially since you’d always felt something so much stronger than just a friendship with him, and he’d been too much of a coward to do anything about it until now. 

But that was before. Now that he’s got you, he doesn’t want to ever let you go. Even though there was some obvious tension with you right now, Jax still wanted you and only you, and that was something he was sure he’d always want. 

He’d sent you a quick text earlier, letting you know there was a party happening and that he hoped you could make it. He didn’t like how desperate he was starting to sound, but he seriously didn’t know what the fuck was going on with you. He’d never really gone this long without seeing or hearing from you, and that fact was making him feel on edge. 

He wasn’t sure if you were coming tonight, so his mood was a little sour as he leaned against the side of his bike outside, his second beer of the night held loosely in his hand as he smoked a cigarette. 

His eyes flickered around the lot, his shoulders slumped as he held the smoke in his mouth for longer than necessary. He didn’t want to dampen anyone’s night since he wasn’t in that good of a mood, so that’s why he is outside instead of by the bar. 

It was also a way he could watch everyone who arrived, and he was shamelessly waiting for you. 

And you didn’t let him down, because a few minutes later, you were here. 

But even though you made direct eye contact with him, you didn’t come over and say anything to him. You just gave him a short wave before heading into the clubhouse, breaking his line of sight with you completely. 

What the actual fuck was going on?

Jax assumed you had a bad day, maybe you were still stressed about whatever was bothering you the last couple days, so he gave you some time to come out and see him when you wanted to. 

But then half an hour went by, and he was still sitting by himself outside, and that was when he went to find you. 

He walked into the clubhouse after tossing away his third cigarette of the night - he didn’t usually smoke this much, but the way you seemed to be avoiding him was making him feel anxious. He found you at the bar, one elbow propped up on the surface as you sipped on a beer. A relaxed smile was on your lips as you talked with Juice’s girlfriend, the same girl you were chatting with the night Jax kissed you. 

Tonight felt like that night, and you looked as carefree as you did that night, and for a second, Jax completely forgot that you had ignored his texts all week and hadn’t even tried to reach out to him. 

Jax was already in a better mood at just the sight of you as he crossed the room, easily sliding between bodies until he reached the bar. “Hey, you,” he mumbled, coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. His chin rested on your shoulder, his lips brushing against the side of your neck as he pressed himself against you. “Where have you been? Feel like I haven’t seen you all week.” 

Now that you were in his arms, Jax finally felt himself starting to relax. He wasn’t used to being away from you, and he wasn’t used to not talking to you for days on end like that. 

And he missed you. 

The baggy shirt you were wearing smelled like the perfume you’d been using since you were a teen, and it was a scent that he always associated with you since the first time you wore it. 

He felt his shoulders drop now that he knew you were at least physically okay, but he could feel the way your body tensed up in his arms, and his relief at seeing you was quickly wearing off. 

Your smile faded, and you forced out a laugh, something that had him furrowing his brows. You lifted your shoulder subtly, making him lift his head off it. As if you didn’t want him touching you right now. As if you wanted to get away from him. 

“Yeah,” you muttered, and he could barely hear you over the music. “I’ve been busy, I guess.”

That was it?

Jax furrowed his brows even more as he loosened his grip on your waist, but he kept his hands on your hips since he was unwilling to let you go just yet. It wasn’t like you at all to reject his touch like that, and you’d never done it before. You’d usually melt into him and give him that gorgeous fucking smile he loves so much, but you weren’t smiling at all right now. If anything, you seemed eager to get away from him, and he fucking hated it. 

There was a sinking feeling building up inside him, and he felt himself start to panic a bit, but he tried to reel it in as best as he could. “Busy, huh? Too busy to return my calls or texts? Or to come say hi when you got here? That’s not like you,” he murmured, his protective instincts flaring up inside him at your coldness. You couldn’t even turn your head and look at him. “Talk to me, baby.”

You pressed your lips together, your eyes flickering over to Juice’s girl as if you were asking her for help to get away from him, and that fucking stung worse than anything. 

“Hey,” he said a little louder, but his voice was also a little desperate as he looked over at Juice’s girlfriend as well, and the look in his eyes had her quickly grabbing her beer and scurrying away to find her boyfriend. Once she was gone, Jax grabbed your waist and turned you around so you were facing him. “You’ve been avoiding me. What’s goin’ on, huh? Since when do you shut me out like this?”

You were looking down at the floor while he tried to get you to meet his eyes, and all he wanted to do was figure out what the hell was going on in that pretty head of yours, because you were acting like a completely different person. 

“I’m not shutting you out, I’ve just been busy with… life, I guess,” you answered, and it was a pretty pathetic excuse. You set your beer onto the surface of the bar behind you before leaning against it and crossing your arms, finally meeting his eyes. “I honestly didn’t think you’d notice.”

Your words were offensive, as was the look in your eyes. They were cold, distant and guarded, and for the first time since he met you, he had no idea what you were thinking, and he had no idea how you were feeling. 

Not being able to read you like he normally does had a look of hurt crossing his face, but he tried to mask it as best as he could. “I wouldn’t notice? What are you talking about? You’re the most important thing in my fuckin’ life, you’re a part of me, of course I’m gonna notice when you start to avoid me out of nowhere,” he muttered, and he really wished you and he weren’t in a room full of people right now. 

He moved closer to you and reached for your hands, uncrossing your arms and guiding them up to drape around his neck instead. He just wanted to feel close to you right now, physically, because emotionally, it felt like he was talking to the brick wall behind you. 

“You’re usually glued to my side, but then you went off and disappeared for days without a word. You thought I wouldn’t notice that? I’m never not thinkin’ about you, baby,” he rasped, leaning down so his forehead was pressed to yours. “Whatever’s got you so distant and closed off, you talk to me about it. That’s what we do. That’s what we’ve always done.”

He wasn’t sure if he was getting through to you or not, because you went back to avoiding his eyes, and he knew that if you didn’t tell him what he did to piss you off so much, he’d spend the rest of the night, the rest of the fucking week trying to figure out what he did wrong. 

Your arms were tense around his neck, and he hated how you looked like you wanted to be anywhere else right now. It made him feel like he was losing you, and he didn’t know why. 

“I don’t feel like talking,” you said, sounding way too casual as you slid your hands down his chest, and he felt his heart race a bit at the familiar gesture, but then you reached up and gripped his chin between your thumb and index finger, and you turned his head to the left. “The crowd’s that way if you’re looking to get laid. I’m going home.”

Jax’s eyes landed on a group of girls who were obviously interested in fucking him, and the fact that you even pointed them out had his heart stuttering in his chest. His expression hardened as he turned to face you again, and he crowded you against the bar. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean? I’m not interested in them, I’ve only got eyes for one girl in here,” he said, watching as you reached for your jacket. “And now you’re telling me that you’re leavin’?”

You seriously thought he’d throw everything away for a random girl who meant nothing to him? What the hell had gotten so messed up inside your head that would lead you to think things like that? He wasn’t sure if he should laugh in disbelief or be utterly offended. 

“I want to leave, Jax,” you said, your voice sounding tired as you tried to move around him.

He reached for your wrist before you could get far, his skin heating up as he felt the earlier panic start to come back. “Don’t run from me, baby. We need to talk about this,” he practically begged, meeting your guarded gaze with desperate eyes. “Whatever this is. I want you. Only you. Don’t you believe that?”

Your expression was unreadable as you looked up at him. “Sure, Jax,” you said, and his grip loosened on your wrist. “Can I go home now?” 

He stepped away from you, his hand falling back to his side as a defeated feeling took him over. “Will you call me later? Or tomorrow?” he asked, fearing he already knew that you wouldn’t.

“Yeah, sure,” you answered, then you turned around and left without another word. 

Jax was left standing there feeling like a complete fucking idiot, and he didn’t quite understand what just happened. Never had you ever wanted to get away from him so quickly like that before. Never had you ever rejected his touch or refused to even talk to him. 

He stared at the door for a few more seconds before turning away, and his eyes landed on the group of crow eaters once more. A blonde girl he may or may not have hooked up with in the past gave him a small pout. “Aw, baby, did your night just get ruined?” she cooed, leaning forward and pushing her cleavage even more out than it already was. “I can make it better, I promise. I’ll make it so much better. Let me come with you to your room.”

A feeling of nausea bubbled up his throat, but he just forced out a smile as he shook his head, not trusting his voice right now as he headed towards his room. When he was inside, he immediately locked the door in case she decided to follow him. 

Now that he was away from the smell of alcohol and smoke and the deafening sound of the music, he was left to deal with the countless questions forming in his head. All of which had to do with you, and with yours and his relationship. 

He’d never felt so lost and confused, and the fact that you had refused to stay and talk things out with him didn’t sit right. It had a lump forming in his throat as he swallowed harshly, his eyes flickering all over his room. 

Usually after a party, or even during one, you’d be in here with him right now. But he was alone, and you felt so fucking far away. 

His eyes landed on the polaroid stuck to his mirror, and he pushed off the door and walked over to it, his hand plucking it from its place to get a better look at it. 

You and he were so young in the picture, and you were so close. That closeness stayed with you throughout all these years, but now it felt like you were slipping away, and he didn’t know how to stop it. 

Did he rush this? Were you not ready to take this step with him after all? Had he completely misread things?

The sound of the doorknob twisting, then someone knocking broke him out of the trance he’d fallen into, and he closed his eyes tightly before turning around and unlocking the door. 

“I don’t wanna have sex with you,” he said when he swung the door open, thinking it was the blonde girl who thought she still had a chance with him now that he’s with you. 

But it wasn’t the girl. It was his fucking mom. 

“Well, that’s a relief,” she said as she let herself into the room, and Jax felt his face flush as he shut the door behind her and locked it again - just in case. Gemma turned and looked at him, and her gaze softened as she took in the conflicted and hurt look on his face. “I assume you meant to say that to one of those girls who are always eyeballing you?”

Jax huffed, “Yeah,” he muttered, shaking his head as he looked down at the polaroid again. “What are you doing in here?”

She shrugged as she moved to sit on the end of his bed. “Clay’s shitfaced and I don’t really feel like putting up with that right now,” she answered, then her own eyes flickered to the picture in his hand. “You know, when I took that, I could’ve sworn you two would end up getting married one day.”

Jax lifted his gaze and looked over at her, then he slowly shook his head. “No. I’m not talking about relationships with my mom,”

“Why not? You listen to me complain about Clay all the time,” she stated, leaning forward and bracing her elbows on her knees. “Besides, I know her. It’s not like she’s just some random girl. She’s the girl, isn’t she?”

Jax dropped his gaze to the picture once more, his eyes trailing all over your younger self. “Yeah. She is,” 

Gemma tilted her head expectantly. “So what’s going on?”

He pursed his lips, his shoulders lifting in a shrug. “I don’t know. But I fucked it up somehow,” 

She furrowed her brows. “What do you mean?”

Jax shrugged again and tore his eyes away from the photograph. “She’s acting different. She hasn’t talked to me in days, and tonight it was like she couldn’t get away from me fast enough,” he mumbled, a bit embarrassed that he was talking to his mom about his relationship troubles at the ripe age of thirty one. “I know I fucked up somehow, but I don’t know when, because she doesn’t want to talk to me.”

Gemma hummed, nodding slowly as she gestured for him to sit with her. “Well, when was the last time she wanted to talk to you?” she asked once he was sitting on his bed next to her. 

Jax tipped his head back, frustration building up inside him as he tried to think about that answer. “Friday. Last week,” he replied, “I missed her calls because Clay had me out doing all this shit for him, and when I got back and tried to call her, she wouldn’t answer. Tonight is the first time I’ve seen her in a week, and all she wanted to do was fuckin’ get away from me.”

“Hm,” was all she said back for a few seconds as she shifted her gaze to the floor. “Well, we all go through things we don’t want people to see us go through. But you love her, and she loves you. I can’t remember a time you two weren’t in love with each other. You just need to be there for her, like I know you will be. Maybe she just needs a little more time, and she needs you to give that to her.” 

Jax locked his jaw as he looked down at the old stains on his jeans. “I miss her,” 

Gemma smiled at him, wrapping her arms around him in a tight, brief hug before she pressed a kiss to his cheek. “You two are gonna be fine. You’ve known each other too long to not be,” she said as she stood up and took the polaroid from him, putting it back in its place on his mirror. She opened the door to his room, then paused and looked back at him. “There’s some blonde out here waiting for you. I’ll send her on her way. Night, baby.”

Jax groaned and ran his hands down his face as she closed the door behind her, and he quickly stood up and locked it for the third time before he unzipped and kicked off his jeans, then tossed his shirt onto the floor and got into bed. It was still early, but he was done partying for the night, because he’d never be able to enjoy himself because of whatever was going on with you and him. 

The next day, Jax was actually working in the shop for once when Ope stopped by, Kenny and Ellie hanging off him with big, innocent smiles directed up at their dad. “Hey, man,” he greeted, prying Ellie’s hand off his arm so he could greet Jax with their usual half hug. “How are you doing?”

Jax shrugged, wiping his greasy hands on the cloth before shoving it back into the pocket of his jeans. “Not bad,” he answered as Ope gestured for his kids to go look at the vintage car that was in the shop for repairs. 

“Oh yeah?” he laughed once they were away. “You’re lyin’ to me now?”

Jax let out a huff as he shook his head. “It’s kinda hard to be in a good mood when your kids have seen my girlfriend more than I have this week,” he muttered, hating the fact that he felt envious of an eight and an eleven year old. You’re Ellie’s teacher, and Jax actually felt jealous that she’d gotten to see you every day this week. How low could he possibly get?

Ope furrowed his brows, a confused look taking over his face. “What? What are you talking about?” he asked, “She was just here last night, was she not?”

“Yeah, for about five seconds before I tried talking to her and she went home,”  he mumbled, giving his best friend a defeated look. “I don’t know what I did, but she’s pissed at me.”

“She’s never been pissed at you,” Ope said, crossing his arms over his chest. “Did you and her get into a fight when she was here last Friday? You tend to say nasty shit when you’re tryin’ to prove your point.” 

Jax couldn’t even feel offended at that, because he was too busy feeling confused instead. “Friday? What are you talking about? I didn’t see her on Friday,”

Now Ope was wearing an equally confused expression. “Well, she didn’t come here to see any of us,” he laughed, then continued when Jax narrowed his eyes. “She came over Friday morning before work. I would know, I was the one who told her where to find you.”

Jax felt his ears start to burn at that, and he straightened up a bit. “I never talked to her on Friday,” he stated, but his voice was quiet, like he was finally starting to figure it out. 

“Well, maybe she waited as long as she could for you and Clay to finish talking, but she had that big school trip last week. She probably would’ve been late if she waited any longer,” Ope offered, and Jax just nodded slowly. 

You were here on Friday, but Jax had somehow completely missed you. You never mentioned anything about that last night, not that you’d really mentioned anything at all, but Friday was also the same day he realized something was off. 

“I’m gonna go see her,” he said, already moving across the lot to where his motorcycle is. Ope just waved him off then went to go collect his kids, and Jax was off to your place. 

It was after school now, meaning you should be home, so when Jax arrived at your house, he was fully expecting you to answer the door. 

But as he raised his hand to knock for the fourth time, he was growing more agitated than before. “Come on, baby, I know you’re home,” he said, loud enough so you could hear him, but not loud enough to cause a scene for any of your neighbours to see.

When you finally swung the door open a few seconds later, you looked just as gorgeous as you did last night, but also just as annoyed. “What?” you asked, your voice sounding irritated as you leaned against the doorframe and crossed your arms.

You’d changed into your after work clothes, which was just a long shirt and comfy shorts, and it was one of his favorite looks on you, but then again, he thought you looked hot in everything you wore. 

“What?” he echoed, narrowing his gaze as he shook his head. “You didn’t call me last night when you got home. And something tells me you weren’t going to call me today either, am I right?” 

You didn’t answer him, you just gave him a blank look. “What do you want, Jax?” you muttered, then straightened up when he pushed past you and walked into your place. “Hey-”

He turned to face you once he was standing in your living room, and he mirrored your stance, his arms coming up to cross over his chest. “What the fuck is goin’ on? You’ve been MIA for days, and now you’re giving me the cold shoulder,” he said, watching the way you clenched your jaw. “Talk to me, please. What did I do to piss you off so much?”

You glared at him for a few seconds, then you stood up straight, blindly reaching behind you to close the door. “Nothing,” you lied, and he knew you were lying, and he was sure you knew that too. “I’m fine.”

Jax shook his head as you moved to stand in front of him, and then you were draping your arms around his neck, but you still had that far away look in your eyes, like this was just something you had to do, rather than something you wanted to do. “No, you’re not,” he said back, but you just shook your head. 

Then you were leaning up and pressing your lips to his in a firm kiss, the first one you’ve shared all week. And Jax immediately melted into it, his lips moving softly against yours as his hands instinctively went to your hips. He couldn’t help it. He’d missed you way too fucking much this week, and even though you were all over the place, he was greedy for you. For any part of you. 

The kiss was filled with frustration from both of you, longing on his end, and bitterness on yours. One of his hands came up and cupped the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair as he deepened the kiss until he physically couldn’t kiss you anymore.

When he pulled away, he pressed his forehead to yours like he normally does after kissing you, but then you flinched, and the relief he felt had once again disappeared. 

Jax stepped away, his jaw locking a bit as he looked down at you. “Tell me what’s wrong. Something isn’t right with us, and I wanna know what it is,” he demanded as he crossed his arms, finally having had enough at this point. “You’ve never acted like this with me before. Did I fuck up somehow? Say something to make you mad?”

You huffed quietly, your shoulders dropping as you rolled your eyes. “You really want to talk right now?” you asked, moving towards him again, your hand reaching out to tug at the belt loop of his jeans. “I can think of something a lot more fun to do.” 

Jax felt the usual desire building up inside him at your words, and your suggestive action, but he caught your wrist in his hand, gently guiding it away from his jeans. “No, baby. We need to talk first,” he said, his voice firm as he tried to get you to meet his gaze. “No more bullshit.”

Why you were suddenly coming onto him like this after you seemed to be repulsed by him last night was beyond him, and your odd behaviour just concerned him even more. 

He was always ready for you, but right now, his body wasn’t reacting to your advances because even it knew something was wrong, and he knew that if he were to say fuck it right now and have sex with you without actually figuring out what was wrong, it would just feel so… wrong. 

Something was bothering you, and he couldn’t focus on anything else until he knew what it was. 

Jax pulled you over to the couch, guiding you to sit before he knelt down in front of you, forcing you to look at him now that he was at your eye level. “I can feel you pulling away from me, and I don’t like it one goddamn bit. I can’t fuckin’ stand it, baby,” he mumbled, taking your small hands in his big ones. “And I’m not gonna let you distract me with sex until we’ve talked this out. You’re way too important to me for that shit.” 

He felt the way you tried to pull your hands from his, but he just tightened his grip. “You don’t want to have sex with me right now? You seriously just want to talk?” you asked, your voice laced with disbelief, and he wasn’t sure why that was such a big surprise to you since he’d talked to you a hell of a lot more times than he’s had sex with you.  

Before he could open his mouth and question you on it, you continued, 

“I thought sex was all this was to you. I thought this was all you wanted from me. Is it not?” you asked, “Or is that just something else I was wrong about?”

That had him reeling back a bit, his lips parted as his gaze narrowed. “Jesus Christ, baby, is that really what you think?” he couldn’t hide how offended he felt by your words, or the way a feeling of anger built up inside him at your question. “You can’t be serious, I- yeah, sex with you is amazing, but it’s not all I want. It ain’t even close.”

You scoffed and looked away, but he reached up and guided your gaze back to his, his eyes hard and his jaw set. 

“I care about you more than anything, more than just the physical shit. You’re my best friend, my ride or die. Yeah, I want you physically, but it’s so much more than that. Haven’t I made that clear by now?” he asked, hoping like fuck he was getting through to you at least a little bit, because if this was just about sex, then that would be an easy fix. 

It wasn’t.

You let out a groan of frustration, your eyes squeezing shut as you tipped your head back. “Fucks sake, Jax. Haven’t you realized this yet?” you muttered, roughly pulling your hands away from his as you stood up and put some distance between you and him. “I heard you. I fucking heard you when you told Clay I’m just another girl to you. That I’m not important. That I’m nothing.”

Jax froze, his eyes widening as his heart stopped beating inside his chest. His blood ran cold, and he felt a light sweat begin to form on his skin - a telltale sign that he had been caught. He’d been caught doing something fucking horrible to the one person he knew that never deserved it. 

It all made sense now. You’d come over to the clubhouse on Friday morning, and you heard him lie his fucking ass off to Clay in an attempt to shield you from this side of his life. That’s why you’d been ignoring his calls, that’s why you’ve been avoiding him, that’s why you wanted fucking nothing to do with him last night.

You thought you weren’t important to him. You thought you weren’t the most important person in his life. You thought he wanted you for just sex and nothing else. 

Jesus fucking Christ. 

He slowly stood up, his expression one of horror and guilt. “No, that’s not true. I swear to God it’s not true,” he swore, taking a step towards you. “Baby, you gotta believe me. That was a fuckin’ lie, okay? I said that shit to protect you, to keep Clay off your back.”

You glared at him, a humorless laugh leaving your lips. “Cut the shit, Jax,”

He shook his head quickly. “No, I swear. I never meant for you to hear that shit. It was a lie. A fuckin’ stupid lie to keep you away from all this bullshit,” he pressed, sounding more desperate than he ever had in his life. “You’re not just some girl to me, you’re everything. I love you, I’ve loved you for so long.”

“Oh, don’t even try to fucking lie to me right now, Jax,” you muttered, glaring at him even more as your eyes filled with tears, and he had never hated himself more than he did right now. “I fucking heard you. You said I meant nothing to you, and you implied that we were just fucking around. You expect me to just believe you lied about that? I heard those words come from your mouth with my own ears.”

Jax hated it when you cried, because it made him panic more than anything else ever had. It was one of the worst sights to see, your pretty eyes tinting red and filling with tears, but these ones were all because of him, and that made it even worse. 

“Please. I swear on my life, I’m telling the truth. I wanted to make Clay think you didn’t mean anything to me so he’d back off and leave you alone. It was all bullshit to keep you away from all this fuckin’ darkness I have around me,” he begged, taking another step towards you. “Everything I’ve done is for you, to protect you. I love you more than anything.”

You shook your head quickly, your body tensing up as you crossed your arms tighter across your chest, a way to protect yourself from him. “No. No, don’t you fucking say that. You don’t get to say that to me,” you said, shoulders beginning to shake a bit. “You don’t get to tell me you love me when you’re a liar. You can’t tell me that when I don’t even know what’s real and what’s not anymore.”

Jax’s heart shattered at the obvious wall you were building up around yourself. You were building it up to protect yourself from him. “I’m sorry. I’m so fuckin’ sorry, baby. I never meant to hurt you. Never. I just want to protect you,” he whispered, his throat closing up as his own emotions started rushing to the surface. “I know I fucked up. I know I fucked this up, but you need to believe me when I say that you’re my whole goddamn world. I love you.”

You winced at his words, tears beginning to roll down your face in waves as your whole body began to shake. “I’m so fucking confused,” you cried, covering your face with your hands as you sobbed. “You don’t know how much it hurt to hear you say those things about me. You, of all people. It felt like I was fucking dying, Jax. I was a mess for days.”

He moved quickly, his strong arms wrapping around you like a shield. You resisted for a few seconds, but he just held you tighter, and you slumped against him. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he rambled, pressing a series of kisses to your temple and to the top of your head. “I love you so much. I’m so sorry.” 

Jax slowly moved down until his back was against the front of the couch, and you were on his lap, your sobs muffled against his neck. He’d never felt so helpless before as he held you, his own eyes burning with tears he didn’t even deserve to shed right now. 

“You’re my heart, and I was scared of what this life would do to you, so I lied to try and keep you away from it. At least until you warmed up to it,” he murmured, pressing another kiss to your head. “You’re the only thing that’s ever made sense to me, baby. I’d fuckin’ die for you, I swear I would.” 

You were his past, his present, and he wanted you to be his future too. He couldn’t live without you, he wouldn’t. He didn’t know how to, and he didn’t want to. He didn’t know how he was going to fully fix this distance he put between you and him, but he wouldn’t give up on you. That was one thing he’d never do.

Your eyes were red and you had streaks of tears on your cheeks when you pulled away from his neck. Your face was flushed, and your bottom lip was trembling as you looked at him, and yet you were as pretty as ever to him. “I want you to tell me everything. I want to know everything, even the things you don’t want me to know, okay?” you weakly requested, “That’s the only way this will work. And as long as you don’t say things you don’t mean about me, even if you think you’re just protecting me.”

Jax felt like his heart was in his throat as he slumped back against the couch, his hands coming up to cradle your face. His thumbs wiped at your tears, the tension in his body fading a bit as looked up at you. “My pretty girl,” he rasped, his voice quiet as you hesitantly leaned into his touch. “You deserve so much more than me. But you’re mine. And I promise I’ll tell you everything. Anything you want to know.”

You nodded slowly, your shaky hands coming up to rest on his shoulders. “We’ll start slow. Take our… take our time,” you stated, your breathing starting to even out, though your voice was still quiet. “But no more lies, Jax. No more secrets, or I swear I will never talk to you again.” 

Like hell he’d ever let that happen. “No more lies, no more secrets,” he vowed, and he hoped like hell he’d be able to stick to it. In this world, his job had always been to protect you, he wasn’t about to stop now. You were his biggest weakness, but you also made him stronger, because thanks to you, he has something to fight for now. “I’ll never stop lovin’ you, baby. Never. You have to believe that.”

He heard the way your breath hitched, and felt the way your hands gripped his shoulders tighter, and he watched as a small, hesitant smile formed on your face. “I do,” you murmured, then pursed your lips. “Well, at least I think I do.”

Jax shook his head, one of his hands coming up to cradle the back of your neck, and he pulled you flush against him. “I should’ve found a better way to protect you,” he muttered, his other arm wrapping tightly around your waist. “I’ll make this better. I’ll make it right.” 

He had to, because he couldn’t live without you.

-

𝐉𝐀𝐗

・When it's just the two of you at home, Jax smacks your ass whenever you're near him

・He loves the way you say his name when you're surprised

"Jax!" You gasped, turning to face him.

He was standing there, with that lopsided grin and mischief in his eyes:

"What else am I supposed to do when you walk by?"

・Tells you everything about the club; Jax is all in. He trusts you with the Sons' secrets.

・Jax sleeps closest to the door; using his body as a shield, even in sleep

・During the night, he'll mumble all sorts of random things

・Everyday Jax will gently cup either side of your face and place a kiss to your forehead.

・Calls you 'sweetheart,' 'darlin'', 'babe.'

𝐎𝐏𝐈𝐄

・His height makes some things really easy, and others very difficult.

・Something too high for you to reach? Easy, call out for your husband and all is well

・Bored? Climb Ope like a tree and he won't move a muscle.

・He's gotten used to your ... quirks. And he finds them endearing.

・Opens doors for you, holds out his arm when the walkway is tricky.

・He can be quite the gentleman at times

・One night he came home from doing ... a ... run, and he walked through the door, all busted up and bleeding.

"What the hell happened?" You jumped from the couch and walked over to him.

"Nothing it-"

"Club business, I know," you finished his sentence and motioned for him to sit down.

・Your big biker husband kept wincing when the alcohol pad touched his wounds

"Why not go to Tara," you asked,

"I want you to clean me up..."

𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐁𝐒

・Loves to read. He'll sit in his chair with a newly bought book, glasses on his nose and sit there for at least an hour.

・When it's time to eat, he always makes you a plate first

・His loyalty is unmatched. Once he's connected with someone, he has their back no matter what

・That's why he loves you so much, because that loyalty goes both ways

・Once a stray cat followed you home, you had to secretly clean it and hide it once Chibs was home.

・But the little meows were difficult to explain

・Don't worry he is now part of the family

・Chibbs calls you mo chridhe (my heart), mo gràidh (my love),

・But when you're 'introuble' he calls you by your full name. You do the exact same thing for him. And he knows he's in deep shit.

𝐓𝐈𝐆

・Will stand at the fridge and eat cheese out of the bag, then ask if you want any

"No I don't want your fingery cheese," you say from your spot in the loungeroom.

"Oh! Is that cheek? Are you giving me cheek??"

"That I am, big boy."

・You never havea actual fights. But play fighting? Oh yeah, you guys live for that.

・But it's not all fun and games with Tig.

・Some moments can get heavy, and he needs you there to help him get through it

・He literally only ever calls you 'baby.'

・And then at home he comes up with random terms of endearment;

"Snickerdoodle, come sit next to me-"

"Pumpkin, I love you!"

"Weeny beeny, see you later!

𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐘

・When you try to stay up and wait for him, you end up crashing on the couch

・And when he sees you there, a rare smile appears on his face. It's the kind of smile that no one but a select few are able to see.

・More introverted than talkative, Happy opens up easily to you. You have his trust. And that trust means he will look after you no matter what you've done.

・You both love riding. Arms wound tightly around his waist. Wind wipping through your hair, you feel alive.

・He hates other people flirting with you. He lets them admire, because he knows you're incredibly beautiful.

・But any person who gets too close is met by a towering figure behind you.

・Both of you are like crows; collecting things and showing them to one another.

"Look! Found a button!

"Cool babe, I found an acorn."

・And you keep your collection in your shared room

𝐉𝐔𝐈𝐂𝐄

・Always blushes when you wink at him

・Nearly everything you do flusters Juice... even simple gestures like hand holding.

・He likes things to be a certain way, so you just let him go crazy and move everything around (he also ends up being the one to clean the house)

・He loves sharing his food with you; it makes him feel warm inside. Like he's provided for you in some way

・Actually likes getting away from the club sometimes. Just you and him, with the ability to live in your own bubble for a day or two.

・Always makes your appointments for you

・Has your number saved as 'angel'.

・Makes dinner most nights. He loves feeding you.

・Is his cooking brilliant? ... pretty close actually.

The sound of wrenches clinking and engines rumbling filled the air at Teller-Morrow, the familiar scent of oil and grease clinging to your skin like a second layer.

The shop had quickly become a second home to you, though you still didn't fully understand the club's inner workings. What you did understand, however, was that the Sons of Anarchy seemed to take an unusual interest in your presence.

At first, you chalked it up to them being friendly.

Jax, for instance, always seemed to be around when you needed something though, in hindsight, you never actually asked for help. "Need a hand with that, darlin'?" he'd offer, even if all you were doing was tightening a bolt. He'd lean against a nearby workbench, arms crossed, watching with an amused smirk.

It was nice that they were all so willing to help, even if it sometimes felt like you had too many supervisors at once.

Opie had a similar habit of being conveniently nearby. He never lingered as obviously as Jax, but he was always nearby. "Just grabbing this," he'd say, reaching for a tool, rag, or something completely unnecessary. He'd stick around longer than needed, watching with that unreadable expression of his.

Then there was Tig. He had no concept of personal space; that much was clear. "Damn, girl," he'd say, leaning way too close for someone who didn't need to be in your workspace. "You sure you weren't born to work on bikes? 'Cause I swear, watching you turn a wrench is the highlight of my day."

You'd roll your eyes, laughing it off. Tig was just like that with everyone.

Even Chibs and Juice had their own ways of hovering. Chibs would tease, calling you lass and finding ways to keep you engaged in conversation, while Juice, sweet but a little awkward tried to get your attention with random trivia or stupid bets with the other guys.

And then there was Happy, who'd just silently walk into your work area and take a seat, watching as you tinker, all while moving that toothpick around in his mouth before stalking off again wordlessly a while later.

It was all a little overwhelming, but you figured this was just how the Sons were—flirty, overprotective, and oddly competitive with each other. Besides, it was nice to feel included. You'd never had this kind of easy camaraderie before in this environment, and you weren't about to question it.

Gemma, on the other hand, saw right through them. She watched it all unfold with a knowing smirk, arms crossed like a mother watching her kids make fools of themselves.

Even Clay seemed amused by the way the guys found excuses to be around you. "Bunch of idiots," he muttered one afternoon, shaking his head as Jax and Juice argued over who got to hand you a wrench before Happy silently handed one to you.

Gemma chuckled. "Let 'em have their fun."

You, of course, remained blissfully unaware that you were the fun.

That all changed the day a customer got a little too comfortable.

You were at the front of the shop, wiping your hands on a rag as you explained the details of a tune-up to a man who had just brought in his car. He was middle-aged, maybe in his late forties, with a cocky smirk that immediately set off warning bells, not that you noticed.

Smiling politely, you handed him the clipboard, explaining the breakdown and keeping your tone professional. "So, with the labor and parts, you're looking at about—"

"You got a pretty face for a mechanic," He interrupted, looking you up and down.

You blinked partly in shock at his audacity and the other in surprise he was so bold in his words. "Uh, thanks?" You tried to steer the conversation back. You were used to men either hitting on you or speaking down to you. "So, if you're good with this, we can—"

"You sure you wanna be doing this?" He smirked, leaning in slightly. "Seems like a waste. A girl like you should be doing something... prettier. A pretty girl like yourself should have a guy taking care of her."

You felt your stomach twist, your grip tightening on the clipboard, trying not to yell at the customer. "I like what I do," you said, clearing your throat and trying to keep your voice even. "Now, if you're good with the estimate—"

He didn't let you finish as his hand slid to your waist, fingers pressing just enough to make your skin crawl. "Come on, sweetheart," he drawled. "maybe I could take you out sometime. Show you what it's like to be treated right. Show you how a real man—"

The hand was gone before you could react. One second, the guy was standing too close, and the next, he was stumbling backward, Jax's fist curled in his collar. The sound of the impact—fabric twisting, shoes scuffing against the concrete—was sharp, final.

Jax's voice was low, dangerous. "You touch her again, you're leavin' in a body bag."

The shop had gone silent. Tools were set down, and chairs scraped against the floor as Tig, Opie, and Juice moved in. Chibs cracked his knuckles, and Happy—who still hadn't said a word—was now staring the guy down with an intensity that made your stomach drop.

The customer, who had, up until now, been cocky and self-assured, realized too late that he had made a very big mistake. His hands shot up in surrender. "Hey, man, it was just a—"

"Get the hell out," Jax snapped, taking a step closer. "Now."

The man didn't hesitate. He turned and practically ran out of the shop, nearly tripping over his own feet in the process, leaving his car behind without a second thought. The moment he was gone, the tension snapped like a rubber band.

It took you a second to realize you were still holding the clipboard in a death grip. You exhaled, forcing yourself to loosen your fingers. Opie was suddenly in front of you; his usual stoic expression softened. "You okay?"

You blinked at him, still processing what just happened. "Uh, yeah. I mean... that was a little intense."

Tig grinned, but there was still something dangerous in his expression. "Welcome to the family, sweetheart. No one touches what's ours."

You frowned at that. "Ours?"

Jax smirked, running a hand through his hair like he hadn't just threatened a man's life. "Don't think too hard about it, darlin'."

You did think about it. For about two seconds. And then you shrugged, figuring it was just their way of saying they had your back, but one thing was clear—this wasn't just a job anymore. These guys weren't just co-workers. They were family, and they had just made one thing very clear.