#gemma teller morrow | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fanficimagery · 2 years

Text

Pretty Baked 2/2

When you decide to move and open up a shop in Charming, California, the local motorcycle club that runs out of Teller-Morrow Automotive practically adopts you and introduces you to their world.

PART ONE | PART TWO

Words: 7.9K Author’s Note: SURPRISE! Since part one hit 100 notes, I decided to post this early. Trigger warning for violence.

"Are these the only participants joining us up here?" The man in charge of the game says. There's only three contestants standing around- one from the PD, one from the FD, and a teen girl from the florists booth.

You catch Emma's eye again and she gestures to the contestants, widening her eyes to urge you to play. You close your eyes, raising a hand as you shout, "I'm in!"

As you start making your way towards the stage, Gemma grabs your arm. "Baby, what are you doing?"

You glance over your shoulder at her and at the Sons who are watching you closely. "You guys are my friends. If I have to embarrass myself in order to make firedouche eat his words, I will." Her lips twitch in amusement. "And besides, Emma's in charge of the music. If the winks and gestures are anything to go by, I'll know the songs she's chosen to play."

"Well would you look at this," the guy on the mic says, happily, as you make your way on stage. "If it isn't the owner of Pretty Baked! Heya, sweetheart, who will you be playing for today since I didn't see a pastry booth out there?"

He holds the mic out in front of your face and you smile sweetly at him as your eyes dart to the fireman and police officer. "I'll be playing for Teller-Morrow Automotive, of course."

The fireman barely manages to conceal his sneer and you chuckle as the man on the mic wishes you luck. "Before we get started, ladies and gentlemen, I'd like to apologize in advance for any vulgarity in the music. I hope that our contestants will censor themselves if a bad word pops up, but I'm afraid I can't do much about the meaning behind any of the chosen songs."

The crowd claps, some bolder individuals assuring the man it's fine and to get started with the competition. The man chuckles and then explains a bit more about what's going to happen. Four mic stands have been spread out along the stage and each contestant gets a buzzer. If you know the song, you buzz in and a little light on your mic stand lights up. If you buzz in first and sing the song correctly, you get a point. And at the end of the tenth song, the person with the most points gets the five-hundred-dollar check.

"Are we ready, Charming?" The exuberant man exclaims. The crowd cheers and suddenly your nerves set in when you see Gemma and the Sons three rows back, directly in front of you. "Well let's go! Emma, play the first song, please."

The beat to the first song starts and the crowd seems to hold their breath. It takes you longer than you'd have liked to recognize it, but before you can press your buzzer, the teenager from the flower shop buzzes in.

"He's so tall and handsome as hell. He's so bad, but he does it so well. I can see the end as it begins. My one condition is; say you'll remember me.."

You curse your luck as the teen correctly sings Wildest Dreams by Taylor Swift, nose wrinkling as you happily accept defeat on song one. The fireman and police officer huff, clearly put out with the song choice.

The man on the mic congratulates the teenager, putting a point on a chalkboard that had been rolled out onto the stage. The crowd cheers and then quiets down for the second song. When told to play it, the piano keys filling the air makes your eyes widen in instant recognition. But apparently you weren't the only one and the teenager from the flower shop gets her buzzer in first.

"Making my way downtown, walking fast, faces pass and I'm homebound." You laugh, shaking your head at the song choice. A Thousand Miles by Vanessa Carlton was one song you were very familiar with as Todd always sang it in the shop to make you laugh.

The crowd cheers some more as the teenager earns another point and you meet Gemma's gaze, shrugging good-naturedly. She shakes her head, smiling.

"Think she can pull this off?" Jax asks his mother.

"We'll see, baby. She knew that second song, but the other girl beat her to the punch."

The fireman and police officer boo, asking for music that they would know among their laughter. Jax chews on his thumb nail, glancing at Emma and huffing a laugh when he sees her roll her eyes. As she prepares for the third song, the crowd starts to quiet.

The moment the guitar chords fill the air, the Sons watch YN squeeze the buzzer in hand, but again she's a second late. Juice swears as the fireman smirks, moving his shoulders and feet to the beat. When the lyrics hit, Gemma scoffs when she realizes the fireman is staring directly at YN. "She was a fast machine. She kept her motor clean. She was the best damn woman that I ever seen. She had the sightless eyes, tellin' me no lies. Knockin' me out with those American thighs."

"That motherfucker," Jax swears.

You Shook Me All Night Long by AC/DC plays and you pout. You should have had that. And when you glance out at the crowd, you're surprised to see the Sons glaring at the fireman for daring to sing that song at you. Even Emma seems unimpressed when you glance at her, but when she catches your stare, she smirks.

Oh no. That can't be good.

When the next song starts, you snort. You and Emma have sung this song plenty of times in the shop, but only when no one else was around. You hit the buzzer, thankfully before the other teenager playing, and look directly at the fireman as you sing. "I'm not here for your entertainment. You don't really wanna mess with me tonight. Just stop and take a second. I was fine before you walked into my life. 'Cause you know it's over before it began. Keep your drink just give me the money. It's just you and your hand tonight," you sing while making the crude hand gesture of jerking off.

The crowd bursts into laughter, the officer playing against you included, but it's the Sons of Anarchy who whoop and holler the loudest. The man on the mic nervously chuckles as the song cuts out, putting a point under your name before asking Emma to quickly move on to the next song.

How Am I Supposed to Live Without You by Michael Bolton plays next, and the police officer finally puts the PD on the board with one point. He sings a little longer than necessary, milking the limelight, and you and the teenager from the flower shop stand behind him, arms around each other's shoulders and waving your hands in the air, back and forth. You laugh when he stops, and you each high five him before stepping back behind your mic stands for the next song.

The drum beat and guitar riffs are instantly familiar, and you're grateful the cop fumbles his buzzer, leaving you time to buzz in first. But when you catch the eyes of the Sons, you blush under their surprised stares. Maybe you shouldn't have buzzed in on this particular song.

In the crowd, Opie chuckles. "There's no way she knows this song."

"I don't know," Juice muses. "I've heard what she listens to when picking up coffee from the shop. Her taste in music is all over the place."

"It's getting harder each time that I go. If I had the choice, I would stay. There's no one like you! I can't wait for the nights with you. I imagine the things we'll do. I just want to be loved by you. No one like you." No One Like you by the Scorpions plays and you sigh in relief when Emma stops the song, signifying you've earned yet another point.

The crowd cheers some more, the Sons making their excitement known. As the crowd quiets down yet again for the next song, your jaw drops as soon as the lyrics start. It's a song that's always made you sad for some reason and Emma knows it, she having laughed when you got teary-eyed that one time in the shop. Surprisingly no one playing knows the song, so you buzz in, easily singing Take on the World by You Me at Six.

You earn another point, putting you in the lead and earning a round of rambunctious cheering from the Sons of Anarchy and Gemma.

"Holy shit. The lass is gonna take it," Chibs says.

When the next song starts, you're surprised to hear the guitar chords of a country song and unsurprised when the police officer buzzes in first. His voice is surprisingly good as he sings I Can't Breathe by Parker McCollum, earning the police department another point and keeping them in the running for the winner's check.

The fire department is clearly out of the running, so the fireman hops off stage, smiling as his fellow firefighters pat his back. Then when the ninth song starts, you barely have a second to listen to it before the flower shop girl is buzzing in. Her wide, victorious smile makes the police officer wince and you laugh. She easily sings Traitor by Olivia Rodrigo, earning herself a third point and tying the game between you and herself.

Happy grunts, punching Chibs on the arm. "You jinxed her."

"Oh wow, ladies and gentlemen," the man on the mic says. "This is such a close game! Our two young ladies are tied at three songs each and our police department has two songs under his belt. If he guesses our last song, we'll have a tie and split the money. But if either girl gets it, they'll be taking home a check to either the flower or auto shop."

The crowd cheers and you smile nervously, palms sweating. Emma smiles as she plays the final song, the guitar chords making your heart stop. The lyrics start and you're practically frozen, but when you see both the flower shop girl and police officer glancing at each other in a panic, you know you've won this.

"She knows it," Gemma realizes, squeezing her son's hand. "She knows the song!"

"How do you know?" Jax asks, glancing between YN and Gemma.

"Because she's not panicking like the other two."

Jax seems to stop breathing when he hears a buzzer go off, his attention whipping back to the stage and his stomach clenching in anticipation when he sees YN's mic stand lit up. He watches as her eyes close and she takes a deep breath, the voice coming from her mouth being far softer than he's ever heard.

"I know I'm just a fool who's willin' to sit around and wait for you. But baby can't you see, there's nothin' else for me to do? I'm hopelessly devoted to you. But now, there's nowhere to hide since you pushed my love aside. I'm out of my head, hopelessly devoted to you."

Hopelessly Devoted to You is possibly your favorite song from Grease and it's a song everyone back home said you sang marvelously. Even Emma was shocked when she first heard you belting it out in the kitchen, your voice rising and lowering at all the right parts, the emotion easily detectable as you sang.

No one dares to stop you after ten seconds, instead letting you sing the whole song. And by the time it's over and your voice tapers off, the crowd goes crazy. You laugh, instantly blushing, and accept the hug from the two contestants that had been left on stage with you. The man on the mic congratulates you and those from Teller-Morrow Automotive, and hands you the check of your winnings before taking a picture for the town newspaper.

As you walk off stage, you bashfully make your way back towards your friends who are all smiling or grinning or smirking. Jax immediately pulls you into a hug, laughing in surprise. Eventually everyone's hugging or ruffling your hair, and squeezing your shoulder as they gleefully congratulate you on your singing skills.

"Here 'ya go, Bobby. Add it to today's winnings."

"Where the hell did that come from, sweetheart?" He asks, taking the check to pocket. "I thought you were scared to embarrass yourself up there! We didn't know you could actually sing."

You shrug, cheeks heating up again. "I sang karaoke all the time back in Texas. For fun. And with the exception of a few songs, I'm a pretty crappy singer," you say, chuckling. "Emma's just heard me sing that last song before. Apparently she rigged the game in my favor."

The Sons all laugh. "Baby, you better give that girl a raise," Gemma muses.

"Don't worry. I will."

With everyone pretty much over the festivities, Gemma calls it a day. Tig walks Grimm and Reaper towards your car, and Jax hangs back so he can keep you close once again, tucked safely under his arm.

"Thanks for that, darlin'. You didn't have to donate the winnings to the club, but-"

"But nothing," you cut him off, smiling as you glance up at him. "You guys are family. And not only that, but I got to embarrass that fireman while getting you guys some extra money for the club. It was a win-win in my book."

"You're just full of surprises, aren't 'ya?" He chuckles. "The sweet southern belle bullshit you spew sometimes is just that. Bullshit."

"If you thought I was truly some sweet and innocent lil' girl from the south, you really haven't been paying attention."

You pat his shoulder before walking ahead, pulling your keys from your pocket so Tig can load up your Great Danes.

Life in Charming is actually going really well, so of course the other shoe drops when you least expect it. It's the weekend, which means the shop is closed, and you have a week's worth of cleaning to catch up on. So after picking up some around the house and loading the dishwasher, you let Grimm and Reaper out into the backyard so you can clean in peace.

You manage to separate loads of laundry and get your clothes into the wash when the doorbell rings. You sigh and head straight for the door, grumbling when your guest rings the doorbell twice more just as you're about to open the door.

"Can I help you?" You say, your false smile instantly falling away when you see who it is. Your shoulders droop at the familiar sight of your brother. "What do you want?"

"What? No love for your big bro?"

"Hardly." You step back, opening the door wider. Might as well invite him in now that he knows where you live. "Now what are you doing here?"

You brother saunters in, whistling lowly as he glances around your home. "This is some nice digs you got here." You roll your eyes behind his back as he walks into the living room, humming so that he knows you've heard him. "I was wondering if that little shop of yours wasn't doing too well and that's why you couldn't front me some cash, but it seems it's doing better than ever."

"What did you expect?" You scoff. "I had no problem lending you a helping hand when you were actually paying your bills, but you stopped using my money for that and instead used it to feed your addiction."

"That's bullshit and you know it!" Your brother whirls on you, eyes blazing.

"Is it?!" You shout. You've never been scared of your brother, but something about this visit doesn't feel right. "I've caught you numerous times nodding off mid-conversation and even caught the hookers coming out of your house. If you want to keep your utilities on, get a job that you'll actually show up for and stop looking for freebies."

"Why work when my baby sister is loaded?"

"Fuck you." You shake your head in disappointment at him. "How'd you even find me? I know for a fact our uncle wouldn't have told you. He's just as upset with you as I am."

"Ah yes. Our precious uncle." Your brother scoffs. He walks slowly around your coffee table and you make sure to keep space between the two of you. "You know he's feeding you bullshit, right? He's trying to pin us against each other."

"No he didn't and no he's not. We tried to help you- to get you clean, but you wouldn't hear any of it."

"I don't need to get clean!"

"Yes, you do!" You shout back at him again, chest heaving. "You tracked me down all the way in California and for what? To beg for more cash?"

His expression clears and suddenly he's eerily calm. "Nah. I'm not gonna beg. You're just gonna give it."

"Like hell I am."

Time seems to stretch on between you, the tension skyrocketing. Suddenly your brother lunges, gripping the back of your neck in hand as he pulls you forward. "Yes, you are." He seethes.

You squirm in his grip, shoving at his chest. "Knock it off! What's wrong with you? Are you fuckin' high?!"

"I need five hundred."

"Fuck off. Get a job if you need that kind of cash." The hand on the back of your neck moves up, gripping your hair before pain suddenly explodes across your cheek. You yelp, reaching up to shield your face. "What the fuck is wrong with you?!" Never in your life has your brother ever raised a hand against you.

"I said I need five hundred."

"And I said to fuck off."

Beyond pissed now, you jerk your knee upward and knee him in his crotch while landing a punch to his face as well. Your brother groans, his grip loosening, but he doesn't go down. Instead his hands find your shoulders as he violently shoves you backward. "Stupid bitch," he grunts.

As you fall backwards, you twist, and unfortunately catch the corner of your coffee table with your right temple. The hit leaves you dazed enough that your brother grips you by the hair again, dragging you upward so he can punch you again in hopes of breaking you. You swing back, however, catching him a couple of times before he knocks you into the wall.

"Just give me the money!"

"No!"

The next hit splits your lip before he grasps you by the shoulders, shoving you into the wall once, twice, and then again for a third time. Your head bounces off the wall and you cry out, weakly raking your fingernails down your brother's face to get him away.

A fist meets your face, and you slide down the wall, whimpering.

"Just give me the money," your brother says again, his emotions finally getting the best of him.

You meet his gaze, every ounce of you hating your brother right this second. "No."

Your brother spits at your feet, now choosing to ransack your house instead. As he pulls down books and picture frames from the bookshelves and wall, you let the tears fall as the pain overwhelms you. When your brother finds nothing in the living room, he makes his way to the kitchen. The glass breaking finally alerts your Great Danes that something is off, and they rush towards the back door, barking up a storm.

You're not surprised when your brother finds the cash drawer in the kitchen- a drawer that has a little over a hundred dollars in it from Jax, Juice and Opie who felt the need to leave money since they constantly ate your food. He breaks some more stuff on his hunt for cash, and it isn't long before he finds almost two hundred in your purse.

"Go. Just leave," you tell him when you feel yourself getting sleepier and sleepier.

"I need more."

"There is no more!" You cry. You wince in pain as your head throbs. "Just go. Please." Before your brother can say anything, the sound of a vehicle's door slamming shut resonates through the air. He freezes and hope unfurls in your entire being. "Uh oh. The cavalry's here," you mumble.

Your brother panics and makes a break for the back door, Grimm and Reaper completely bypassing him and making a beeline for you. Your dogs panic when they pick up the scent of blood, barking and whining. The doorbell rings, sending your dogs further into a frenzy.

"YN?" You hear a familiar voice shout from outside.

"Sack!" You scream.

That one word manages to sap the rest of your energy and you're barely coherent enough to hear your door being opened and Half-Sack swearing as he falls to his knees next to you. "YN? YN, what the hell happened?!"

"B-Brother," you mumble, eyes fluttering shut now that you know you're safe.

"Hey. Hey!" Half-Sack swears. "YN, stay awake!"

"M'tired."

Half-Sack reaches for his phone, fumbling it before he manages to unlock it and look for his president's number. When he taps on Jax's contact info, he grumbles while he waits for the blonde man to pick up.

"What?"

"Jax, man, someone beat the shit out of YN!"

"What!?" The word is repeated again, harsher this time.

"I c-came over to pick up the dogs," Half-Sack stammers, "and I heard her scream for me. It's bad, man."

"Get her to St. Thomas. Now! And don't leave her side."

Half-Sack tucks his phone away, intent on doing as Jax demanded. He apologizes as he scoops YN into his arms, cursing his weakened strength and mentally vows to start lifting more soon. He manages to get YN out to the van, setting her in the front seat while running back inside the house and then urging the dogs into their room before shutting the door behind them so they don't hurt themselves with all the broken glass.

Back in the van, Half-Sack is sure he breaks a couple of laws just getting YN to the hospital. He keeps yelling at her, trying to get her to stay coherent enough as he pulls into the hospital parking lot. He picks YN up again, grunting and then stumbling as he rushes for the emergency room doors. Everyone waiting to be seen startles at his haggard appearance, with the exception of the nurses on call who weren't paying the doors any attention. Fortunately for Half-Sack, the Prez's ex-girlfriend chooses that moment to walk out.

"Doc. Hey, doc!" He calls out and Tara Knowles looks up from her clipboard. Her eyes widen when she sees Half-Sack holding a battered, unconscious woman. "I need some help here."

"Come on." Tara gestures for him to follow. "What happened?" She leads him to a curtained off room, immediately pulling out her pen light to check pupil dilation.

"I- I don't know!" Half-Sack stutters. "I showed up by her place to pick up her dogs and she screamed for me when I got to the door."

"So she was awake when you got there?" She asks, continuing her evaluation, gently pressing along the woman's bruise face to check for fractures.

"Y-Yeah."

"Is she close to the club? Could this be club retaliation?"

"Sort of. And no." He shakes his head. "She, uh, she said it was her brother before she told me she was tired and closed her eyes."

Tara freezes while her gaze shoots to Half-Sack, the man clearly upset over this woman's injuries. "Okay. I'm gonna see if I can wake her up. Why don't you go out and-"

"No. I'm staying with her."

She frowns. "Okay. Then let's get to work."

Tara goes through the motions of collecting a few more supplies, setting them on a tray next to her. She grabs a small tubular packet before snapping it in half, waving it under YN's nose. YN wakes, groaning and whimpering in pain before Half-Sack is taking her hand and assuring her everything is okay.

Tara smiles sadly at the prospect who clearly cares for her patient. "YN, can you tell me what happened?" She asks, prepping to clean and stitch the small wound she can see near her temple.

Awake and more alert, your head lolls to the side until you see a woman doctor fussing over you. She looks familiar, but you don't have enough wits about you to determine why she looks familiar. "Yeah.. my brother kicked my ass."

"Mhm. And where'd you get this cut?"

You wince as she prods at your temple, pain throbbing all around your head. "Uh, coffee table, I think? He pushed me."

"Did your head take any more hits?"

"Mhm." You gulp. "He punched me a few times. Slammed my head into the wall even more."

Half-Sack winces as he continues to hold your hand.

"From the look of your knuckles, I can see you fought back," the doctor says. "That's good."

"Yeah. My uncle didn't raise no bitch."

Half-Sack snorts and even the doctor grins. "You're going to need stitches. You want me to numb the area?"

"Don't bother. Just go for it."

Half-Sack holds your hand the entire time the doctor stitches you up and during that time you realize just who your doctor is. Doctor Tara Knowles was a major part of Jax's life when they were teenagers, and currently a pain in Gemma's ass since the queen of the bikers didn't want the doctor anywhere near her son. But as of late, you hadn't heard Gemma complain about the woman so you figure things must have calmed between the two ex's.

Doctor Knowles cleans you up as best as she can, adjusts your bed so the top half is sitting upward, and then warns you to not give in to the temptation to sleep because she was pretty sure you had a concussion. You grimace at your blood covered clothes and she thankfully grabs you a pair of scrubs to change into while also making sure you have no other injuries around your body. Half-Sack stands right outside the curtained room so you can change, and then Tara leaves to grab all the paperwork needed to be filled out for your visit.

Since you were still a little shaky and Half-Sack couldn't stay still enough to help you with the paperwork, Tara decides to help you. She's in the middle of asking some very personal questions she needs the answers to when the curtain is suddenly yanked open. Tara yelps and you flinch, and then she's admonishing Jax and trying to tell him that he can't be there. Your body relaxes when you realize just who the visitor is and Jax completely ignores his ex while stalking up to your bedside.

"Are you okay?" His hands cup your face as he brings his forehead to gently rest against yours. His eyes close and you smile before reaching up to grip his wrists while humming an affirmative. He breathes a sigh of relief before pulling back and then glances over his shoulder at Half-Sack. "You can leave now."

"Jax," Tara starts, "I don't think you should-"

"It's fine, doc," you assure her, smiling softly as you remove Jax's hands from your face. "Jax is good."

"Ma's on her way."

You fondly roll your eyes. "Fine. Jax and Gemma are good. I don't mind them being here so long as they won't get in trouble for being in here with me."

Tara frowns, brow furrowed as she glances between you and Jax. She hasn't heard anything about him seeing anyone, nor anyone that apparently had his mother's approval. But seeing your friendly expression, her shoulders droop just the slightest as she nods.

"What happened?" Jax asks.

"Why don't we wait until your mom gets here because I have a feeling she's going to ask the same thing."

He opens his mouth to deny your assumption, but then snaps it shut and shrugs. "Yeah. Okay."

There's a chair right next to the bed that Jax takes a seat in, one of his hands holding tight to yours. You shake your head at him and then give Tara your full attention since she's still doing your paperwork. She eventually flashes you a smile back and then gets to work, completely ignoring Jax's presence.

When Tara is done with the paperwork, she realizes that you're in a little bit more pain than you had let on. She leaves to grab you some strong ibuprofen and then comes back to make sure you take it. And just as you've swallowed it down, Gemma is bursting through the curtains.

Her concerned expression immediately morphs into one of sympathy. "Oh sweetheart, what happened?"

You glance at Jax, arching an eyebrow. "Told you."

"Yeah, yeah. Shut up and tell us."

You grin and relax back into the bed, sighing. "It was my brother." Jax tenses and you reach for his hand again, squeezing it in comfort. "He somehow found me and started asking for cash again."

"I'm really hoping you didn't give him any," Gemma says, huffing.

You point to your face. "Does it look like I told him yes?" Her expression falls again and you grin at her. "He pushed me into the coffee table, which is how I got this," you say while gesturing to your stitched wound. "Then he punched me and I punched back, and then he slammed me into the wall a few times. He ransacked the living room and kitchen, and found the snack money drawer," you admit. "And then dipped into my purse for more."

"He's dead." Jax's voice is cold and his eyes glint with his anger.

You shake your head at him. "Don't bother. He's probably long gone back to Texas. I'll just call my uncle and he'll have it taken care of."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. My uncle will probably put him in the hospital as well."

Gemma smirks, but it's Tara's scoff that pulls everyone's attention. When she realizes she has three stares looking right at her, she shifts on her stool. "Violence doesn't solve anything. Just make a report and let the police handle it."

You blink at her and then when your brain catches up, you drawl, "Bless your heart, suga, but I've got it handled." Jax snorts at the southern twang that slips through and even Gemma can't hide her smirk. And when you realize just how rude you sounded, you mentally wince and sigh. "So tell me, doc, when can I get out of here? I'm pretty sure someone with much more serious injuries can use the bed."

Tara gapes, but quickly composes herself. "I, um, I can start the discharge papers now if you want."

"Yes, please. And, uh, do you think I can get a prescription for some of the stronger ibuprofen you guys give out here? It works better than the over the counter ibuprofen you can get at the store."

"Sure. I can prescribe you Tramadol if you'd prefer that."

"Nah. I don't like meds that you can get addicted to. Ibuprofen works just fine."

She smiles at that, nodding. "Okay then. I'll be back with your papers and prescription."

"Thanks, doc."

As soon as Tara disappears, Gemma takes over her stool and pulls it up closer to your bed. Soon enough, you have Jax on one side and Gemma on the other.

"Is there anything else that we should know?" Jax asks. "Now's the time to tell us."

"No. I told you guys everything."

"Are you sure, baby?" Gemma asks.

"Yeah. He probably would have tried to kick my ass some more if Half-Sack hadn't showed up when he did. He got spooked off and ran out the back door, and then I screamed for Sack after he rang the doorbell."

"Where were the dogs throughout all this?" Jax wonders. "They don't seem like animals who would sit back while their mom was being beaten."

"In the backyard. They ran in when my brother ran out, but I don't know what happened after that." Suddenly your eyes widen. "There's glass all over the place! They're gonna get hurt."

"Don't you worry, baby, I got 'em." Gemma stands. "I'll take Grimm and Reaper to the clubhouse, and then have the prospect clean your place."

"You don't have to-"

"But I want to." She smiles, leaning forward and cupping your face in her hands. She kisses your forehead. "I'll see you later. Do what the doc tells you."

"Yeah, yeah. I know the drill." Gemma takes her leave, shutting the curtain behind her before you turn to grin at her son. "And then there were two."

Jax leans forward, placing his elbows on the side of your bed. He sighs softly. "So you wanna tell me how you're holding up now that it's just the two of us?"

"I'm fine."

"YN.." Jax trails off, arching an eyebrow at you and challenging your answer. Your lighthearted expression falters and your eyes sting the longer you hold Jax's knowing gaze. "He's my brother," your murmur quietly. "He's never raised a hand to me and he-" your voice cracks and you hide your face in the palms of your hands, crying.

Jax is up and out of his seat, taking a seat next to you on the bed and wrapping his arm around your back. You turn and curl into his side, and he lets you cry on his shoulder. "Shh. I've got you now. It's going to be okay."

The sound of the curtain being yanked open makes you freeze. "Oh. I- I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it, Tara."

You bite the inside of your cheek and try to put a lid on your emotions. You lift your head from Jax's shoulder and wipe at your eyes, sniffling. "Am I- am I clear to go, doc?"

"Yeah." She hesitates briefly. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah." You meet her gaze, vision blurry as tears swim in your eyes again. You wipe them away. "Everything kind of just got caught up to me," you tell her. "You know, the fact that it was my own flesh and blood who did this to me."

She smiles sadly at you. "I'm really sorry this happened to you."

"Thanks."

You sniffle some more as she smiles before looking down at the papers in her hands. "So, uh, you're all good to go. Just make sure someone stays with you tonight because you need to be woken up every couple of hours for that concussion."

"That won't be a problem. She's staying with me tonight." Tara's eyes subtly widen and you turn to look at Jax. But before you can even say anything, he shakes his head. "Don't argue with me. Tig can keep Grimm and Reaper, and you can stay with me."

"I- yeah, okay." You lightly shake your head. "We'll just have to swing by my place for some stuff."

He nods. "We can do that."

Tara spends a little more time informing Jax of what symptoms to look for since he's apparently going to watch over you, and then she gives you the prescription for your pain relievers. And after signing your own discharge papers, Tara's grabbing a wheelchair and wheeling you out to the doors.

Jax freezes. "Shit. I forgot I'm on my bike."

"Seriously?" Tara huffs at him. When Jax's worried expression cuts to you, Tara rolls her eyes and reaches into her coat pocket. "Take my car and get her to your place safely. You can bring it back and take your bike after."

You and Jax stare at her in surprise over her act of kindness. She huffs a laugh, shaking her in amusement. "Thanks, Tara," Jax ends up saying, heart light at the fact that there was no pettiness involved.

She nods. "Don't even mention it."

Over the next week, you're absolutely coddled by Gemma and the Sons of Anarchy, and even Emma and Todd at work. The only person who didn't try to coddle you was Happy, but you did see his eyes lingering a little longer whenever you complained about a headache. Half-Sack, Tig, and Happy gladly took over care of Grimm and Reaper, and you ended up staying days with Jax instead of just the one night. And in all the time of you two cohabitating, things never went past the heavy flirtation. There might have been a few close calls, but the two of you always stopped and nervously laughed off the tension.

When you finally made it back home, you were grateful that everything your brother demolished had been fixed or replaced. Jax had been more adamant that you show up to clubhouse parties, but with your bruises still pretty vibrant, you didn't want to go anywhere other than work and home.

But bruises fade and eventually you agreed to attend one of the parties, which is why Gemma's picking you up.

"Hey, baby, you ready for this?" She asks when you slide into her Cadillac.

"You mean am I ready to be glared at and spoken down to by the croweaters?" You muse. "Sure. I guess I am."

"One of these days you'll learn to put them in their place."

"There's nothing going on between Jax and I to warrant me putting them in their place," you tell her. "If there was something going on, then I assure you the cattiness would be there. But there's not."

"If you say so." Gemma backs out of your driveway, intent on driving towards the clubhouse.

On the drive towards the party, your phone beeps with a text message. You check it, frowning at the words staring up at you: Answer your phone.

"What's wrong?" Gemma asks when you continue staring at your phone in hand.

"I don't know," you mumble. "The text says for me to answer my phone, but I don't recognize the number."

"You think it's your brother?" You shake your head, and before you can answer the phone is ringing. "Put it on speaker."

You nod, answering the call and hitting the speaker button. "Hello?"

"So, I had to hear from your uncle that your brother beat your ass?"

You sigh and Gemma glances between you and the road. You grin reassuringly at her. "Jesus Christ, Guillermo. You scared the shit out of me with that vague ass text. What-" You immediately cut yourself off, brow furrowing. "Wait a minute. How the hell did you text me?" The line is quiet, and you exhale loudly. "You smuggled a burner into your cell, didn't you?"

From the corner of your eye, you see Gemma's head snap in your direction. You bite back a grin, knowing full well she's gonna find out exactly why you didn't care about what the Sons of Anarchy truly did to earn money. "What can I say, mi amor. The guards love me."

"Bullshit. If they loved you, you'd have gotten out years ago on good behavior." Guillermo laughs down the line. "But you keep getting caught doing sketchy shit and they happily report your ass to the parole board."

"Yeah, yeah. This isn't about me. This is about you and why I'm just hearing about what your idiot brother did."

You groan. "I'm fine."

"What was the damage?"

"Uh, concussion and a split lip. My face was pretty bruised as well."

"What do you want done?"

"Can nothing be done?"

"You know if you don't tell me, then I'll just figure out my own punishment."

You sigh, finally glancing at Gemma, only to find her looking at you in surprise. "Fine. Have him beaten, but not enough to warrant a stay in the hospital. I don't want him crying about hospital bills," you tell him. "Remind him that you don't fuck with your favorite."

Guillermo laughs. "You got it, princesa." The line goes quiet and then he's back, amusement lacing his tone now. "So, what's this I hear about a biker?"

"Fuck off. You and my uncle are the worst gossips."

"It's boring in this cell. I like knowing what's going on out there."

"Yeah? Then next time don't get caught. Pendejo."

"You wound me, mija."

"I'm sure." The clubhouse comes into view and you wrap up the call. "Hey, Guillermo, I gotta go. I'm headed into a party."

"Alright. Have fun, run if the cops show, and I'll call you with an update when I have your brother's ass kicked."

"Okay. Love you. Bye."

You end the call and hesitate to meet Gemma's gaze.

"So that's why you never bat an eye when the boys' criminal history comes up." You huff a laugh. "Who is he and what'd he do?"

"Guillermo is my uncle's best friend," you tell her as she parks her car. "He's.. a very prominent member of a very large gang that has connections pretty much everywhere. He got picked up for kidnap and torture."

"Jesus," Gemma swears.

You shrug. "That man adores me. He treated me and my brother like his own kids sometimes, so he's pretty pissed at my brother right now. If I hadn't told him what to do, I'm pretty sure he'd have made the call to have my brother seriously maimed."

"So you really don't have any issue about the things that go on with the club?"

"As long as it doesn't directly involve me, I don't need to know."

"Damn, baby, you really need to let my son slap his crow on you."

You snort. "I've heard some things about how the boys operate, Gem, and there's one thing that's a major turn-off for me."

"Yeah? And what's that?"

"The run clause," you tell her. "If I'm with someone, then I'm with that person and that person only. I expect the same respect from my partner and the run clause gives him leeway to mess around while he's on the road."

Gemma pulls the keys from the ignition and drops them in her purse. "If you have an issue with road pussy, then tell him. I have a feeling Jax will cave into your demands if you just state them."

And without letting you retort, she's opening her car door and climbing out.

By the time you and Gemma walk into the clubhouse, the party is in full swing. The scantily clad women are making their rounds and you're not surprised to see the croweaters swarming Jax, Opie and Chibs. Your nose wrinkles when one bold croweater takes a seat on Jax's knee, and Gemma elbows you, eyebrow arching as if asking what you were going to do about it.

"Knock it off and let's go get a beer. I have a feeling I'm going to need it."

You and Gemma are a beer and a half deep when Jax finally takes notice of your presence. The croweater perched on his knee and looking quite smug about it is easily pushed aside without any warning, and you can't hide your amusement as you watch Jax light up as he makes his way towards you.

Gemma catches you smiling, and when she sees the reason why, she huffs in amusement. "And that's my cue to go."

"Aw, Gem, don't leave me."

"Buck up, baby, and lay down some rules with my boy." She pats your knee and you grin knowingly at her. "I'll see you tomorrow." Gemma slides off her stool just as Jax nears and she pats his cheek before walking on.

You smile at Jax as he takes her empty seat, leaning one elbow on the bar top as he stares at you. You copy his position, chuckling. "How long have you been here?"

"For a while," you admit. "Gem and I were gossiping."

"Why didn't you grab me when you got here?"

You shrug and gesture to the place he'd last been sitting with the neck of your beer bottle. "You were a little preoccupied. I didn't want to interrupt your fun."

You sip the last of your beer as he says, "I'd have preferred your company."

"Well how was I supposed to know that?"

Jax's eyes subtly widen. "I invited you!"

"Well.." You squirm in your seat, chuckling. "Shut up," you end up saying when he smirks at you. "I just didn't want to be a cockblock. You should be thanking me that I didn't cause you any issues with your little groupies."

Jax's expression falters as he stares at you. "You really don't get it, do you?"

"Get what?"

"That I don't care about the croweaters."

"What?"

Taking a leap of faith, Jax leans forward to capture your lips with his. Your eyes immediately fall shut, and Jax stands, pushing between your knees to stand closer. But before the kiss can really turn interesting, you place a hand and his chest and reluctantly push him back. You gulp and lick your bottom lip as Jax seems to need a moment.

When he seems coherent enough, you say, "We can't."

"Why the hell not?"

"I don't share," you blurt. Your gaze falls down to your hand on his chest and you can't help but let your fingers trail downward. Groaning softly when you feel the slight ridges of his abs, you pause your trek downward and meet his gaze once more. "Not in Charming, nor on the road."

His eyes light up with realization. "You're worried about road pussy."

You shake your head. "I'm not worried about the croweaters because no matter what they're gonna try to entice you. If we're being honest here, I'm more worried about you."

"How so?"

"You grew up in this life, Jax," you say. "And I've been here long enough to hear about the rules. If I ever get involved with anyone, it won't be with someone who messes around with another female while he's on the road."

"Is that the only thing keeping you from seeking something more with me?"

"Well, yeah." You frown.

"Seriously?" Jax slowly smiles. "So if I had assured you a while back that your pu-"

"Stop." Your nose wrinkles. "I hate that word."

He chuckles now, reaching up to sweep your hair behind your ear and then pressing a kiss to the apple of your cheek. "So if I had assured you that your legs are the only ones I wanna be between, then you'd have caved a lot sooner?" He asks, lips brushing your ear.

You shiver, nodding. "Maybe."

Jax leans back a bit, slowly running the tip of his nose over your cheek until his mouth is just brushing against yours. "Nah. I don't think there are any maybes about it." Your breathing gets a little heavier. "I think you're about to cave in three, two-"

"Oh fuck you." You grab the front of Jax's shirt, fisting it to keep him close, and crash your lips against his.

This kiss is more aggressive right off the bat, Jax pressing in as close as he can get. His hands end up tangled in your hair, your back arching over the bar top as he leans over you. The wolf whistles pierce the lusty fog that had rolled through your mind and you manage to push Jax off once more.

"Slow it down, Teller. I've got a reputation to uphold when in public."

"Yeah?" Jax licks his bottom lip as he stares you down. "And what about when we're not in public?"

You slowly smirk, pushing him a little further back still. "Well when we're not in public, I have a feeling you're gonna have trouble keeping up."

"Cute and innocent my ass."

"Cute, yes. Innocent?" You hum. "Not so much. But I have a feeling you're going to learn all about that very soon." You hop up off your seat and peck his lips one last time. "Now come on. Let's go hustle your boys out of some cash."

#jax teller x reader #jax teller imagine #sons of anarchy imagine #soa imagine #jax teller #gemma teller morrow #sons of anarchy #soa

1K notes · View notes

dallianceangel · 9 months

Text

𝐋𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐬 🥣

Here's another Happy drabble. I'm definitely in love with this one 💗

♡ Comments, likes and reblogs are highly appreciated ♡

“I'm sorry, Happy, I-I was just so hungry.”

It honestly didn't occur to you. You were so hungry that you picked up any box of cereal that you could find. Even whilst you were scoffing it down, it honestly didn't register in your mind that it was a bad decision to go for the Lucky Charms.

Happy never shares his food. The last time anybody dared to touch anything of his, he gave them a split lip and threatened to cut off their balls. He's going to kill you, you just know it.

“It's okay,” he smiles as he sits down at the table where you, Gemma, and Clay are sitting around. “What's mine is yours.”

Pouring himself a large bowl of cereal, his uncharacteristic display of kindness has Gemma and Clay staring at him open-mouthed. Who is this man, and what has he done to Happy?

Clay whispers into Gemma's ear, “Did he just...”

Gemma sips on her cup of coffee and nods. “I think the man's in love.”

#soa #sons of anarchy #happy lowman #david labrava #drabble #drabbles #gemma teller #gemma teller morrow #clay morrow #happy lowman fanfiction

83 notes · View notes

kschke · 1 year

Text

Be careful. I love u.

#charlie hunnam #jax teller #sons of anarchy #gemma teller morrow #fifty shades of charlie

71 notes · View notes

pedroam-bang · 6 months

Text

Sons Of Anarchy (2008-2014)

30 notes · View notes

heronpoxed · 4 months

Text

One thing about Tara Knowles Teller is that the whole point of her character development is to get out of this semi-doormat situation that she's in. Throughout the seasons we see her grow from an uncertain girlfriend to a strong and determined mother who realizes that her husband is full of shit and that she needs to take matters into her own hands to make sure that her kids survive the fate that turned their father into a career criminal. That's precisely why people hate her -- because throughout her development she stops being that conventional female character written through the typical male gaze who's here to make things comfortabe and accessible for the male lead of the show. People hate that about her because the original SOA audience mostly consists of misogynists of older generation (that includes men and women alike) who always root for the man no matter what and are convinced of his unwavering righteousness.

It's no surprise that the Gen Z viewers of SOA root for Tara a lot more than its original audience.

If we look closely and think about it for a second, we'll see more doormat in Gemma than in Tara. Gemma is the one who never questions all the morally wrong things that the men do when it comes to personal relationships: she doesn't question their cheating -- in fact, she expects it (says so in s2 after Clay finds out about the SA and doesn't even feel surprised when she finds out that Jax slept with Colette), doesn't question their sexism and harmful treatment towards women and simply lets them get away with having that disgusting mindset. She has this "boys will be boys" mentality in many cases which is absolutely apalling but is mistaken for the "loyalty to her man" and found extremely appealing. Gemma has a lot more of "the male gaze" undertones than Tara and that's why people go absolutely nuts for her. They find excuses for all the destruction that she causes, which is always the consequence of her selfish actions and is a lot worse than anything Tara has ever done. But when Tara finds herself in a desperate situation and feels that is forced to make morally gray decisions for the good of her sons she is called "selfish" and "power-hungry" by some random commenter on YouTube. I've seen many wrong takes on SOA but never have I seen the character interpretation as utterly false as this one.

You may find Tara annoying and even criticize her decisions but selfish and power-hungry are not on the list of her characteristics. They're on Gemma's! but god forbid, we call the "loyal" and "badass" biker wife out on her bullshit.

Note: this is not me hating on Gemma. Contrary to popular belief, I think Gemma is an extremely well-written character and that's why I have tremendous love and respect for her. I'm just emphasizing the double standards in the fandom.

#tara angel you deserved so much better #I've had it with this fandom's misogyny #everything gemma has done was sm worse than tara's actions and yet fandom hates her instead of the real wrecker in the show #soa #sons of anarchy #tara knowles #tara knowles teller #maggie siff #gemma teller #gemma teller morrow #katey sagal #samcro #jax teller #charlie hunnam #jara #jax x tara #tara x jax #jax and tara #tara and tax

9 notes · View notes

zalrb · 1 year

Text

Trying {Jax x Tara fic}

An anon requested I do a Tara and Jax fic and since this is my first SOA fic and I’m still trying out their voices, I kept it short and very simple, basically a continuation of my post on what I think they were like in high school: https://zalrb.tumblr.com/post/681734198920445952/soa-anon-what-do-you-think-jax-and-tara-were

Kind of a snapshot into what their relationship would be like, I maintain it would’ve been extremely intense because of the way he and Tara and Gemma describe what they were like back then so this is my attempt at showing a facet of that intensity, hope you enjoy it!

It didn’t take long for Tara to spot Jax outside of the school. He was sitting on his bike across the street in the same spot he always parked in when he picked her up, but what made him stand out was the small group of girls crowded around him.

She could only imagine the way they were giggling and tittering and flashing him not-so-subtle bedroom eyes and felt the need to make her presence known. She sauntered across the street but stopped just behind the small circle of girls, tilting her head to the side. Jax had been holding her gaze since she’d walked down the front steps, but it wasn’t until now that the girls realized he wasn’t looking at any of them and hadn’t been for a while, that his focus was pulled to one point -- Tara. They turned to look at her.

“Oh, hi, Tara.”

She didn’t look at them. “Hi.”

For a few moments, none of the girls moved and just stood around awkwardly, watching Jax and Tara hold a silent conversation with a gaze, their eyes never leaving each other. When they finally did leave, resentful and annoyed, Tara smiled at Jax.

“Didn’t mean to break up your fan club,” she said.

Jax grinned. “My fan club?”

“Mm. Don’t think I don’t know what Carla Greggs was over here promising you.”

Jax licked his lips, took one last drag of his cigarette before flicking it away, and he walked up to Tara. He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her firmly, the intensity of his purpose threatening to make her drop the books she was holding.

He pulled away from her slightly. “They’re just white noise.”

Tara tried not to smile but it proved difficult --- she couldn’t help the glee that flooded her, knowing that they were still being watched by those girls.

“I don’t know, you seemed to be enjoying yourself,” she said.

Jax raised an eyebrow. “You wanna continue bustin’ my balls or are you gonna let me take you somewhere?”

Tara pursed her lips in mock contemplation. “Haven’t decided yet.”

He laughed. “Oh really?”

Jax kissed her again and this time, Tara moaned slightly from the impact it had on her and when he pulled away again, she felt slightly dizzy. Jax looked at her dazed expression and his eyes seemed to glint with something like triumph.

“Take me away, Teller,” said Tara.

He lifted her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles, before going to his bike. Tara shrugged a strap of her knapsack off her shoulder so she could unzip her bag and put her books in. He handed Tara her helmet and she smiled, biting her lip.

Jax parked by the water and he and Tara lay on the grass. At first, they were staring up at the sky, holding hands, twirling their fingers around each other’s, talking about nothing, and then after a while, they turned to one another and stayed that way until their breathing seemed to sync.

Tara skated her fingertip over his eyebrow, tracing the outline of his nose and lips, and he held her gaze as she did, his expression open and as unguarded as he could allow himself to be.

He tried to explain it once, how a universe would sprout between him and her when they lay together like this, including and encompassing them and only them, but it was impossible for him to put that depth into words, to make it make sense to people when it didn’t really make sense to him. He couldn’t verbalize the peace that settled him and that could only ever come with her and how lesser he felt when they weren’t together. He’d never be able to say it out loud, he couldn’t even say it to Tara, mostly because it scared him, but if he could have his way completely, he’d never leave Tara’s side -- ever -- and losing that feeling, that universe, scared him even more than the feeling itself.

Tara continued to trail the contours of Jax’s face. She wasn’t sure why she was doing it, if she simply wanted to learn his beauty, commit every inch of him to memory, but she felt overwhelmed by her need to know him as completely as she could, and kissed him as a sort of release. A peck at first, and then slow and deep, an indication of how moved she felt at that moment. When she pulled away, he followed her, inching his face toward her, barely allowing a breath before kissing her again, intensifying their embrace.

It wouldn’t be long before they’d have to stop or else they’d make a display of themselves in public, Tara was usually the one who had to bring sense back into the equation, but then the noise, that noise, the one she dreaded more than anything, sounded and doused their fire for them.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Jax stopped the kiss, groaning as he did. He reached over for his pager and looked at it. He paused.

“911,” he said. He took a deep breath. “Let me drop you home, I gotta get to the clubhouse.”

“Why?” said Tara.

“91--”

“Yeah, I know, 911,” said Tara, cutting him off. “But what does that mean?”

Jax pressed his lips together, hanging his head.

“Is it dangerous?”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, that’s not actually an answer,” said Tara, rolling away from him. “You keep doing that, thinking that I don’t realize that you never give me a straight answer or an answer at all.”

“I don’t have an answer for you,” said Jax. “I just know that it’s an emergency.”

“Bullshit,” she muttered. “This has been happening more and more. I barely see you now and half the time you’re surrounded by other girls---”

“You know they mean nothing, Tara.”

“Fine,” she said. “But seeing it is like … I don’t know, Jax, how would you feel if every time you looked for me, guys were hitting on me?”

“They hit on you all the time,” he said, an edge to his voice.

“No,” said Tara. “Not like with you, not wit them---”

“OK.” Jax didn’t want to hear anymore -- the hypothetical scenario triggered a combination of anxiety and fear, anger and jealousy and it was putting him in a sour mood.

“Never mind.” Tara got up, dusting off her clothes, and started heading for the bike.

Jax got up after her. “Wait. Wait. Just look at me.”

Tara didn’t want to because she knew if she did, it’d be over, her anger would ebb.

“Look at me,” he said again gently.

She did. As she predicted, she felt herself breaking but told herself to hold firm; she refused to let him feel good about leaving. He pressed his forehead to hers, sighing softly but heavily. He whispered, "Tara..." and something in her loosened, making her close her eyes.

She didn't think it should be so simple --- that he could just say her name and she'd forgive him everything. She wondered if she could resist him. She tried it now and started to walk away but he held onto her wrist, bringing her back to him and she folded into his arms, melding into him.

“I don’t want to leave,” he said. “You know I don’t want to. It’s like my day doesn’t begin until you get out from school and I can see you, but--”

“Yeah,” said Tara. “‘But’.”

Jax looked at her, at a loss.

“Come on,” she said, “let’s go. It’s an emergency, right?”

Tara got off the bike and walked toward her house without saying anything but before she could reach the door, Jax called out to her. She stopped and turned around, her arms folded.

He walked up to her. “I don’t wanna leave like this,” he said.

“Life doesn’t have to be this way, you know,” she said.

Jax shrugged. “My life does.”

“Why? Because your mom says so?” Tara hesitated, telling herself not to continue but she couldn’t help herself. “I mean, what kind of mother--”

“Hey,” said Jax. “Don’t start this again.”

“You dropped out of high school, Jax! And she just let you.”

“I was wasting my time there anyway.”

“Because you didn’t try! You - you barely showed up! If you just went to class and made some kind of effort, you could get the kind of grades that get you into college.”

Jax laughed, shaking his head at the notion. “I can’t argue about this again.”

“But tell me, why is that so crazy? You love to read, I’ve seen your essays, you’re creative and smart, you could be could study English, you could--”

“Come on, Tara, you think I’m going to…” Jax started gesticulating. “Get a degree, be some sort of writer---?”

“Why not? Why is that so impossible?”

He sighed heavily. “Because.”

“Because what? Because Gemma said so? Because she said you needed to prospect to be a part of … what? What is it that you’re a part of, Jax? Because I can’t understand it.”

“I’m more protected this way.”

“Protected from what? You never tell me anything about what happens, you just tell me not to worry.”

He looked at her. “And you shouldn’t.”

“You just said that you needed to be protected.”

“Look, it’s better that we don’t get into this.”

“You mean it’s better for you because it’s not better for me. You say you don’t tell me everything for my own good, you tell me not to worry but all I do is worry, Jax! All I do is worry that your mother is going to call me or Opie is going to show up at my house or at school and tell me you’re dead!”

Jax heard Tara’s voice crack with fear and instantly felt the need to quell it. “That’s not gonna happen,” he said firmly.

“You don’t know that! Your dad---”

Jax took a deep breath, shaking his head. “Tara!” He said it more harshly than he meant to. “I can’t do this right now.”

“No, Jax, every time we get close to seriously talking about this, or talking about your dad you bail!”

“I gotta go.”

Tara clenched her jaw, trying to hold in her tears. “Then go,” she said.

Jax threw his head back. “Tara…” “Just go, Jax. It’s good to be reminded, again, of where your priorities lie. Wouldn’t want to keep the club or Gemma or whatever the hell it is you have to do waiting, OK? So just fucking go.”

Jax watched as Tara walked into her house, and felt a pull -- a strong desire to go in after her, to stay there with her until the time came to let her take him away with her, away from Charming and everyone and everything in it, making their own separate universe a reality. The pull came from everywhere in his body, a cosmic temptation … and then his pager beeped.

The meeting had been over for an hour and now that business was done, now that he was able to let the rest of his life back into his consciousness, all Jax could think about was Tara. He spent the entire sixty minutes waiting by the phone or calling her house and each time he did, her father said she wasn’t home yet. It agitated him, he hated the way they left things, and he wouldn’t be able to settle until he talked to her.

He’d go and wait for her, it would be what she expected anyway.

As soon as he got up to leave, he came face to face with his mother who had her hand on her hip and a knowing expression on her face.

“Where’re you going?” she asked.

Jax looked at her. “You know where I’m going.”

“Yeah.” She sat down on a stool and he sat back down on his. “The future valedictorian’s,” she said.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” said Jax.

“Baby, I just want you to be with someone who loves you for who you are.”

“Tara does love me for who I am,” he said sharply.

“Then why did I find college brochures on your desk this morning?”

Jax looked at her incredulously. “What the hell were you doing in my room?”

“Your room in my house that I pay the bills for? I’ll go wherever I goddamn please,” said Gemma.

“Whatever. It’s irrelevant, OK? I’m not going anywhere. This is my life.”

“Then why are you so ready to leave it? To go chasing after pussy?”

“Don’t call her that,” he said,

“‘Don’t call her that’? She’s got you pussy-whipped, I thought I taught you better than that.”

Jax rubbed his forehead.

“Jackson, you can’t bear to spend a second away from her, like it’s life or death. All you two do is fight---”

“No,” he said, cutting her off. “All you and I do is fight because you won’t cut her break.”

“Well, there’s an easy solution to that, Jax. There’s a line of girls out there eager to suck your dick, they’d probably do it with a ‘please’ and a ‘thank you’.”

“Jesus Christ,” he said, rolling his eyes.

“I’m just saying there are plenty of other---”

“There’s no one else,” said Jax, looking directly at Gemma. “There’s only her. Deal with it or don’t but I’m done with this conversation.”

Jax got up and said his goodbyes to everyone as he made his way out of the clubhouse, grinning good-naturedly at the cracks and the jokes about how whipped he was. Once outside, he walked determinedly to his bike, but halted when he saw Tara lingering in the lot, pacing leisurely yet nervously, stopping when she saw that he’d finally come out .

They looked at each other for a long time but didn’t speak. Jax slowly closed the gap between them, his eyes searching hers her face flushed red with emotion

“I always end up here,” she said finally. She furrowed her brow. “I try not to… I try to ignore your calls, I try to forget how I feel… I try to forget you but…” Tara put her hand to her lips, closing her eyes. “I’m always right here. With you.”

Jax wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly. He pressed his lips to her head, breathing her in, relishing the feel of her against him.

“Stop trying.” Then he said, a little desperately, “Don’t do that to me.” He moved so he could look down “Tara, I don’t know what will happen to me if you …” He cleared his throat. “Just stop trying.”

Her eyes passed over his expression. “OK,” she said, melding back into him.

#jax x tara #tara x jax #soa #sons of anarchy #soa fanfiction #sons of anarchy fanfiction #tara knowles #jax teller #jax teller fanfiction #tara knowles fanfiction #charlie hunnam #maggie siff #gemma teller morrow #katey sagal

59 notes · View notes

chloe-skywalker · 1 year

Text

Sons Of Anarchy Masterlist

By ~ @chloe-skywalker

* = Requested

Main Masterlist

Jax Teller:

~ Coming Soon...

Chibs Telford:

coming soon ...

Opie Winston:

coming soon ...

18 notes · View notes

fandoms4lifesblog · 1 year

Text

#gemma teller morrow #SOA #Nero #Gemma&nero

4 notes · View notes

nina-vonnegut · 2 years

Text

Talking to my bff about mayans/soa and it got me thinking about Gemma.

Before all of this gets away from me I want to say that this isn't me even entertaining the idea of intention on Kurt Sutters or anyone else's mind. This also isn't me turning the narrative around and making soa out to be some feminism show. It's not. It's really not. It's a macho sausage fest. But this post goes out to the girlies.

So. Gemma. Queen Bee. HBIC. She is the soa enforcer when it comes to women in the show and around the club. She calls women sluts, whores, etc. and far worse stuff. Sometimes her dialog could be spoken by a dude on the show and I wouldn't even blink, esp. when it comes to degrading women.

And by all accounts she won that way. She is the ultimate old lady, highest ranking woman present at all times, even when she is not the wife of the clubs prez. She is playing the patriachys game, she is one of the boys; she is winning. People either hate her for behaving like that/or judge her far harsher than the dudes or are in love with her; kinda affirm her actions and try to immitate her cause they are "bad bitches" too.

Screw intention on Sutters part but is she winning? Truly? She is the one woman who suffers the most gendered crimes, most often on the show. And she is the one woman who would be a good addition at the clubs table cause she cares about the club and isn't afraid to kill people over it. And still never gets to be one of the brothers.

Gemma is someone who "gets the life" and protects it, for that she is rewarded. But rewarded as a woman. She is still "just" an old lady even if the is thee old lady. And she gets punished as a woman when she missteps. Just like the other not old ladies, the ones she looks down on.

Even before Clay/Gemma conflict on screen she tells Tara that it's not the first beating/smack that she took. It's implied that either John and/or Clay hit her. While Tara is shocked, Gemma is more "that's the life" about it. Both her husband's cheat/ed on her regularly, and while it happens on runs, she is supposed to be fine with it. And pushes that narrative. The conflict only arises cause the girl shows up. Gemma is raped and beaten when the club has enemies and is instructed to deliver a message. She is later beaten by her husband on screen, when she tries to argue with him earlier that the club doesn't do drugs he grabs her by the throat and tells her that she doesn't tell him what the club does. Conveniently forgetting that he uses her as a battering ram to tell everyone else what the club does and quiet liked her cheer-speeches in the earlier seasons. As long as she is "in line" she apparently can tell what the club does/stands for.

Later her son pimps her out, literally, to that husband who beat her viciously, her son knows this, cause he needs information from him and she is supposed to honey trap him into sharing. Much later, after she admittedly kills his wife, that same son shoots her from behind and kills her. She is shown to give him permission cause that's "who they are". She is the most driving force behind the "outlaw life" in the show. Should have patched her in and given her an outlet for all the ideas.

And as much as she is the hbic she gets sex crimed every season at least once! As much as she plays the game and shits on other women she gets punished just like them. Let that sink in for a sec before you break your neck posting "Gemma was right etc." and immitate her too much by "putting bitches in their place". Remember how Gemma was put in her place by the dudes whose rules she followed to a T.

Tara, most behatedest, who hated the life/style and the club and even at her most "gemmafication" didn't enforce the boys club rules as much, doesn't get "put in her place" the same way. She doesn't stand for and accept some default behaviors. Again, the show isn't feminist tm and Tara does her fair share of fighting women too, but she does punish and hold Jax responsible for misstepping, cheating as much. She isn't beaten by a man ever, she isn't raped, she isn't pimped. Her most horrific physical injury/handicap/illness is completely "sexless". In fact she pretends to have a miscarriage and blames it on Gemma and because Gemma behaves the way she does Jax believes she caused it.

So while I think hating Gemma is understandable, she did *all this*, one cannot ignore that she also got "got" every season. And while I think it's cool that Gemma brought confidence and a certain attitude to women and their self perception I don't think one should ignore how her hating other women and playing by the boys rules, enforcing them on other women, didn't help much in the end when it came to domestic violence and such.

#klukvatalk #putting this in the tags in case someone wants to chat. interested in all the opinions. agreeing or disagreeing #gemma teller #soa #gemma teller morrow #sons of anarchy

12 notes · View notes

blxxdyvalentine19xx · 2 years

Text

Gemma Teller - Morrow S1 E3 Fun Town - Sons of Anarchy,

"But I know something about burying the truth. And [it's] a burden that you never want to put on a kid. Tristen has to know that this really happened. Make her hide it, lie about it, it'll come back and shit on every relationship she ever has. That rich, happy life you've worked so hard to give her you just kiss it good-bye"

*Nothing truer than that, burying the truth only hurts more intl the end when it starts to bleed into new and more stable relationships.

#sons of anarchy #gemma teller morrow

2 notes · View notes

witchthewriter · 1 year

Photo

𝑴𝒂𝒄𝑮𝒚𝒗𝒆𝒓 & 𝑾𝒐𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒃𝒐𝒚: 𝑨 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝑺𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄.

Paid story for @alohomorasomnium. Word Count: 1k Warnings: swears, mentions of previous domestic violence

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ

The vet’s office had said to dress casual for the interview, but in this town, you had no idea what that meant. Driving into Charming felt like going back five…maybe even ten years. It wasn’t an old hick town, but it had a feeling of slowness. Like trends and updates took their time to reach Charming, even though it was a Californian town.

You had chosen a white button up top, with short sleeves and a black pin skirt with a matching jacket. Your hair was in a French braid and you had nearly dropped your thin black framed glasses locking your front door that morning. Your aim was to impress; seem professional. But god it was hot. You weren’t expecting such a warm day – neither was the weatherman you’d been listening to on the tv last night.

It was still an adjustment – moving into a new home, into a new street, new town… new state.

“Change is good,” is what you had told yourself while you drove all of your belongings from your hometown to Charming. You said it over and over again.

This morning hadn’t gone too badly, well, not until you got onto the main road and Charlie, your truck, conked out twenty minutes from your interview destination. You had considered walking, but it would take you at least an hour on foot. Especially since your GPS didn’t work without a power outlet.

Bottling up your scream, you stood on the side of the road and popped open the hood of your truck. Steam blasted you in the face, fogging up your glasses and dirtying your white shirt.

“The fuck is wrong with you Charlie! Why now?” You groaned, leaning your head against your arm. You counted to ten and pulled yourself together. Now wasn’t the time for a breakdown.

Hooking the rod into place, you wiped your glasses on your shirt and looked for any damages. The oil was fine, water in the windshield wipers were full, hell everything looked perfect.

Just as you unhooked the rod, you felt a presence behind you. Jumping, you turned around in a flash and dropped the hood. Bang! The sound seemed to ring out in the early hours of the morning.

“Sorry ma’am, didn’t mean to startle you.” Having to look up to see his face, you saw a bearded man with a leather kutte covered in patches.

“No need to apologise, just … having a rough morning,” you said, locating your keys and doing your best not to seem frightened. Your fear didn’t spawn because he was a biker, no. It was because he was a man.

Moving to Charming wasn’t a choice out of freedom, but necessity. To put it simply, the man you had loved turned out to be a narcissistic, obsessive control freak. Breaking loose of him gave you your life, but parts of you would never be the same.

“Looks like it,” Opie said in a humorous tone, “I work for Teller Morrow mechanics, I can take a look if that’s okay with you.”

Polite.

You weren’t used to big, booted men with being polite.

So, you were unsure, but time was ticking away, and you were in desperate need for this job.

“Okay, you can take a look,” stepping back, you watched as he trudged over to Charlie and did exactly as you had done. After ten minutes he slowly lowered the hood and wiped his hands on his jeans.

He shook his head, “Not an easy fix, looks like a part is missing.” Opie’s sunglasses perched high on his head as he looked at you. You noticed the tattoos on his neck and arms, and wondered how many more he had.

After processing the words, your stomach sank.

“God,” you shut your eyes, and held it in. Coincidence, you thought. This was all coincidence.

“I can call the tow truck,” he said, moving toward you. Taking an instinctual step back, you noticed that the big biker stopped in his tracks.

“Sorry, it’s not you. I’m just –“

“- not only having a rough morning?”

You crossed your arms and nodded.

“Look, I’ll call a tow truck and take you to wherever it is you need to go, sound okay?”

You looked from the ground to see what his transportation was. A Harley. How would it look showing up to the Vets on the back of a bike?

Fuck. I’m fucked. This is fucked. How has my day come to this? You thought roughly, rubbing your temple. You looked at your watch, five minutes. Five minutes until the interview. Shit.

Letting out a laugh (because if you didn’t laugh you’d cry), you nodded to the brown-haired biker.

“Why are you doing this?” you asked him, throwing a leg over the seat, trying not to let your skirt hike up too high.

“What comes around goes around,” he replied, handing you the helmet and securing your handbag in his satchel.

“Huh, Karma,” you muttered, and tried to fasten the helmet tighter.

“Here, let me,” large hands came towards your face but you didn’t flinch. There was something about this man. Being up close meant you could sense it better. Maybe you had been around animals for too long, but as they were able to sense a good person…somehow so did you.

“I didn’t get your name,” you said as he was face to face with you. His large fingers gently tugged on the cords of the helmet, clicking it in place, his eyes flickered to yours and you noticed the faded freckles over the bridge of his nose.

“Oh uh, it’s – Opie,” he stammered lightly, moving in front of you and hoisting a leg over the bike. “Yours?” He asked over his shoulder.

“Kaelie.”

“Well Kaelie, where we going?”

“The Veterinary Clinic,” you called over the rumble of the bike.

He smiled and nodded. Flicking up the kickstand, instantly the two of you were off.

- 🛠 –

What should have taken you twenty minutes, Opie did in ten. You chalked it up to knowing the right streets, but a few times you looked over his shoulder to see how fast he was going. (It was fast).

After parking you had handed the helmet back to the biker and smiled at him.

“Thank you.”

With a half smile, he shook his head. You were about to turn around and head off but he pulled something out of his pocket.

“Here’s the details for our mechanics. Your car should be done by the end of the day.”

You nodded, once again thanking him for his generosity.

“Do you need a ride after your done here?”

Cocking your head to the side, you blinked a few times before nodding.

“Hey, just helping a new neighbour.”

86 notes · View notes

fanficimagery · 2 years

Text

Pretty Baked 1/2

When you decide to move and open up a shop in Charming, California, the local motorcycle club that runs out of Teller-Morrow Automotive practically adopts you and introduces you to their world.

PART ONE | PART TWO

Words: 8K Author's Note: Sons of Anarchy!AU. No Clay. I'm sorry if you like him, but he intimidates me more often than not lmao. And as much as I love kid fics, I've decided against Abel existing in this imagine. Just go with it.

When you were just fourteen, there was an unfortunate accident which claimed your parents' lives. The life insurance money for both of them was split between you and your brother, but neither of you could touch it until you turned eighteen. Your brother hit eighteen first and immediately left the care of your uncle, spending his money without a care in the world. And no matter how much you and your uncle told him to spend it wisely or invest, he didn't listen.

So when you came into your money, you asked your uncle for help. He helped you invest most of it and then you used a small portion of it to help put you through school. You went to school for a business degree, and when you graduated you used the recipes your uncle's girlfriend showed you to open up a small bakery and coffee shop. You only made and sold a few select items, and the coffee you brewed was plain. Many businesses sold fancy, expensive drinks, but you wanted to keep it original. The elderly locals of the small Texas town you grew up in adored you for keeping the prices affordable and in return they made Pretty Baked one of the best breakfast joints to eat from.

Over the years you slowly expanded on Pretty Baked, bettering your uncle and girlfriend's lives since they had looked after you for years. But then your brother started coming back around, asking for cash here and there when he couldn't make ends meet. And against everyone's wishes and your own better judgment, you gave him the cash.

You quickly grew tired of Texas and your brother's entitled attitude towards the cash you earned for a living, so you started looking for a place elsewhere to set up shop. You don't know what made you look into California, but you did and you looked for a small town that could possibly use a little boost.

Charming, California, in your eyes, was the perfect candidate. And after searching for buildings for sale, you found one that was within a decent price range, as well as a small three bedroom house too. So after leaving your uncle in charge of Pretty Baked's Texas location, you moved to Charming to open up your second location.

More worried about your living situation first, a few friends helped you load up a moving truck that your uncle would drive to California for you while you drove your Ford Explorer. Those same friends also made the drive with you, your two Great Danes, and your uncle, and they helped put together your bed and drop your dog's mattresses in one of the spare bedrooms before wishing you luck and leaving you to your own devices.

Furnishing your house was easy since you didn't care for anything fancy and everything you wanted was fortunately in stock there at the stores. You had new sofas, another queen sized bed for the third room, a kitchen table and chairs, a coffee table and a TV all delivered in one day. It took you a couple of days to get everything put together and on the day you've had your new refrigerator installed, you're surprised to hear your doorbell ring as you're in the middle of making a grocery list.

Your two Great Danes erupt into chaos, rushing the door and barking.

"Knock it off!" You shout. Immediately the dogs stop barking, coming to heel as they walk around you so they can see who the guest is as well. You sigh and then paste on a friendly smile as you swing open the door. The woman standing there is easily in her 40s, rocking a black skin tight long sleeve shirt whose sleeves are sheer, skin tight jeans that are tucked into knee high black heeled boots with a tupperware container in hand. Her brunette hair is curled and waved to perfection, blonde highlights added in here and there. All in all, she's one smokin' cougar. "Hello."

"Hiya, sweetheart," she drawls, amusement lacing her tone. Shit. She definitely caught you ogling her. "Name's Gemma. My son lives a couple houses down from you and I thought I'd welcome 'ya to the neighborhood. I brought you some treats."

You wince as your dogs immediately respond to one of their favorite words, their deep woofs making even you startle. Whirling around, you raise your pointer finger at them. "No!"

"Holy shit," Gemma exclaims.

You mentally laugh, knowing your two Great Danes paint a menacing picture. Both are pitch black with their ears clipped. Both have dark brown leather collars, silver plaques pinned to them with their names and your information on them in case they get lost. "She means treats for me, not you. Behave!" Once your dogs settle, you turn back around. "Sorry about that. I'm YN and the two bodyguards are Grimm and Reaper."

Gemma's eyes immediately sparkle. "You're joking."

"Nope."

She laughs. "I love it."

"Thanks." You stand there for a split second before you remember your manners. "Oh shit. Come in!" You say, gesturing her inside. "Sorry for not offering sooner. And sorry about the mess. I just had my appliances put in today."

"It's not a problem." She walks in as if she owns the place, heels clicking. You smile as you see her pat each of your dogs heads, obviously looking around as she makes her way towards the kitchen. "Wow. Place looks great."

"Been in here before?" You ask as you follow, Grimm and Reaper following behind you as well.

"Yeah. I thought my son would like this place, but he preferred something smaller."

You huff. "I would have to, but my dogs are my babies. I needed room for them."

"Oh yeah?" Gemma places the Tupperware container on your table, taking a seat. She looks you up and down before you take your own seat, smirking at you. "So where does Charming's newest resident hail from?"

You arch an eyebrow at her. This was probably the town's biggest gossip, but you didn't have anything to hide. "From an equally small town down in Texas."

"Reason for the move?"

"I'm opening up a second location for my bakery."

"Really?" She drawls. "Tell me more."

You chuckle at her. "You want my whole life story, don't you?"

"Well, aren't you a smart girl?"

"Fair enough. I'd wanna know all about the newbie too." You sigh, reaching for her Tupperware of treats and popping open the lid. Chocolate chip cookies are inside, and you readily bite into one, groaning in delight. "These are good." You shove the rest of the cookie into your mouth and then wipe the crumbs off on the bottom of your shirt. "So, uh, my parents died when I was young. My uncle and girlfriend raised me and my brother, but my brother split as soon as he was of age and came into possession of his share of our parents life insurance money."

Gemma scoffs. "Typical."

"Yep. Anyway, when I came into my portion of the money, I invested most of it and put myself through college. Afterwards, I opened up Pretty Baked. My uncle's girlfriend had some fruit kolache recipes that she taught me so we excelled at that. Then over time, I added in sausage kolaches, other various doughnuts and simple coffees since nowadays all everyone sells is the expensive shit."

"Good for you." She genuinely seems impressed. "So your business did well then?"

"It did. So well, in fact, that I was able to better my uncle and his girlfriend's lives as a thank you for stepping in when my parents died. But then I wanted a change in scenery, so I looked elsewhere to set up shop and Charming met the criteria I was looking for- small, but loyal."

"And you plan to keep this shop exactly like your Texas location?"

"Oh yeah. I'm gonna have to keep my menu very small right now until I can hire staff that knows what they're doing, but eventually- if business does well here- I hope to expand the menu to everything I sell down in Texas."

"Well I, for one, can't wait to try what you have to offer."

"Thanks. It's gonna be a while since I still have to order all the appliances for the shop, but I can make you a tester's tray to try a bit of everything."

"Yes. I love that idea." Gemma's phone vibrates from within her pocket and without even looking at it, she says, "That's my cue. I should get going."

"Oh. Okay." You stand up at the same time she does, tutting at Grimm and Reaper when they move to follow. "Thanks for stopping by."

"It was my pleasure, baby girl." She reaches into her back pocket, pulling out a business card and handing it to you. "My family and I own Teller-Morrow Automotive here in Charming. If you need anything or want to drop off some snacks, call the office. I'm the one who files all the paperwork and handles the phone."

"Yeah. I will." You smile at her, opening your front door and stepping aside so she can walk out. "It was nice meeting you, Gemma."

She smirks over her shoulder. "You too, baby. And if you do stop by the shop, bring those precious dogs of yours. I have a feeling my boys would love them."

The following day you finally get to go grocery shopping after having let the new refrigerator cool off overnight to make sure it was working properly. It was, so now you're anxious to stock it and your cabinets.

You manage to get everything you want, plus some snacks you're sure you don't need but desperately want, and load it all up into the backseat of your vehicle. Then after locking the doors, you take your basket back inside to go buy the dog food next.

An employee helps you get two large bags loaded into your basket when he sees you struggling, but unfortunately gets called away before he could help you out to the parking lot. Groaning, you head out by yourself and walk over to your Ford Explorer. Pressing the button for the hatchback to open, you wait until it's fully up before trying your luck with the too heavy bags.

You've only managed to get the first bag halfway out of the basket and on the edge of your trunk space when the basket starts to roll back, and you curse as you try to stop it with your foot. Stuck in an awkward position, you curse again. "Fuck my life."

There's a snort behind you. "Need some help there, darlin'?"

The voice is quite pleasant so you don't bother rejecting the offer. "Yes, please. Fuckin' dog food weighs a ton and I'm just one tiny person!" A man walks around to be in front of you, easily taking the bag of dog food from you and loading it. As he works, you quickly check him out- dirty blonde hair slightly slicked back, blonde facial hair and what appears to be some sort of motorcycle club vest over a plain white tee. As he loads the second one, you smile at him. "Thanks."

"No problem." He smiles and you do your best not to swoon. "I'm Jax. You new around here?"

"YN. And yeah. Just got in a few days ago."

He nods and then gestures to the dog food. "You gonna be good getting that off at your house?"

"Probably not." You chuckle. "I'll just back up to my garage and pull them out. I'll slide them into a corner or something."

Jax chuckles. "You sure? I don't mind lending a helping hand. We, here in Charming, look out for our own."

"Being in a new place and all, I should say no, but I'm from Texas where we help out anyone and everyone," you say. Shrugging, you then tell him, "Fuck it. If you're offering, I'll definitely accept the help."

"Well alright then. What's the address? I'll follow you on my bike." You rattle off your address to him and are surprised when his eyebrows raise to his hairline. "No shit? I live on that street too. In fact, I think I'm only a few houses down."

Something in your mind clicks and you give him a quick lookover once more. "You related to that hot, yet very intimidating woman that goes by Gemma?"

Jax barks out a laugh. "That's my ma. She introduced herself to you already?"

"Yep." You grin. "Brought me cookies to butter me up for my whole life story. I caved." Your blonde companion snorts and you shrug. "I couldn't help myself. She's really hot."

"Should I worry about you chasing after my ma?"

You shake your head and shut the hatchback. "Nah. I only appreciate good looking women. I don't sleep with them."

"Good to know." Jax's blue eyes sparkle and you curse your luck. Figures mother and son would be smokin' hot. "So should we get going?"

"Yeah! I have groceries in the backseat that I need to get home too."

"Well alright then. Lead the way."

After putting the basket away, you jog back to your vehicle and buckle in behind the steering wheel. The drive to your house is pretty short and you park in your driveway while Jax parks in the street. You open the hatchback and then walk around to open the back passenger door, grabbing as many bags as you can.

Jax manages to get one bag of dog food lifted up onto his shoulder and he readily follows you to the front door.

"Guard your nuts," you muse.

"What?" You smirk at his expression, throwing open the door and immediately step aside. The deep, menacing woofs don't startle you this time and you laugh at Jax when his jaw drops upon seeing your dogs rushing him. One arm holds tight to the bag of dog food and his free hand immediately covers his junk when Grimm noses his crotch. "What the fuck."

"You're new and you have their food. They're easily excitable."

"They're intimidating as hell, but not very good guard dogs."

"Wanna bet?" You grin and then look at your dogs. "Boys, sit!" Immediately, the Great Danes back off of Jax and sit, staring at you. You then point to the front door. "Guard." Your dogs get up and sit by the door, ears sticking straight up and not moving a muscle. You look back at Jax. "Walk towards the door."

"Why?"

"Just do it."

Jax takes a moment to consider it before he takes three steps towards the door and both your dogs stand, growling menacingly at him. "Alright. I get it. They're good guard dogs."

"Damn right they are." You then look at your dogs again, softening your voice. "Alright, boys, go play." Their tails immediately start wagging and then they're off, rushing off into the house.

"Those are some smart dogs you have," Jax says, following you into the kitchen.

You place your groceries on the counter and then open the pantry door. "Put the dog food in there," you say. "And yeah. Grimm and Reaper are the best."

"What did you just say? What are their names?"

"Grimm and Reaper." Jax laughs. "Why is that funny? Even Gemma found amusement in their names." He turns around and it's then you take notice of the grim reaper on the back of his vest. "Oh. Is it like the mascot of your club or something?"

"Everyone around here and other MC's associate the reaper with the Sons of Anarchy." You nod, understanding their amusement now. "It looks like Fate brought you here."

You snort, pushing off the counter and heading for your door once again. "If you say so." Your cell suddenly rings and you pull it out of your pocket, frowning at the name that flashes across it. You silence the call and then shove it back down into your pocket.

"Boyfriend?" Jax guesses, watching you carefully.

"Nah. Brother." You shrug. "I'll call him back later."

Jax doesn't say anything else as he follows you outside, grabbing the other bag of dog food while you grab up even more groceries. Once everything is inside, you turn towards Jax who is crouched and scratching the necks of your dogs.

"So thanks for everything," you tell him. "Those bags of dog food would have been an issue for me."

"Anytime, darlin'." He stands, flashing that annoyingly pretty smile of his. "So I guess I'll see you around then?"

"Of course." You escort him to the front door so you can see him off. "After all, Charming is pretty small."

Over the next week, you spend a majority of your time cleaning up the shop that is set to become Pretty Baked's second location. Gemma had stopped by to check out the building and offer any help should you need or want any, but the work kept your mind and hands busy so you were perfectly content doing all the work by yourself. Then before she had left, the two of you traded cell phone numbers and you promised to call her soon to let her know you were heading over with breakfast goods.

You call in the orders for all the kitchen equipment you're gonna need, as well as tables and chairs and any artwork you can hang on the walls. The tables, chairs and artwork are going to come in within a week, but the kitchen equipment is set to be delivered within three weeks.

So in the meantime, you make good on that promise to Gemma one morning. And after making sure she's going to be in the office at Teller-Morrow Automotive by at least seven in the morning, you wake up at five in the morning to start baking.

You only have the stuff, and the time, for cheese sausage kolaches, as well as apple and raspberry kolaches. You have a bag of the special blend coffee beans that's really popular back in Texas, so you make a pot for Gemma to try and to get her opinion on it. You're not sure how many people work at the auto shop, so you figure ten each of the sausage, apple and raspberry kolaches should be good enough. Then after pouring the entire coffee pot into an enormous thermos jug, you grab a stack of styrofoam cups and whistle for your dogs.

Grimm and Reaper get put up in the backseat and the trunk space of your vehicle, and you load up the goods in the front seat with you. It's seven forty-five by the time you're pulling out of your driveway and find yourself on the way to Teller-Morrow Automotive.

When you pull up to the auto shop, Gemma waves you down and directs you to a parking space. You're not surprised to see various motorcycles parked alongside the side of the building or the few bikers groggily walking around.

"Well don't you look all bushy-tailed and bright-eyed," Gemma muses as you hope out of your vehicle.

"I've been up since five," you say. "And have had about five cups of coffee."

She huffs in amusement. "Did you bring your babies?"

"Of course." You open up the back door. "Let's go, Reaper." The Great Dane hops down, circling Gemma before sniffing her hand and taking a seat next to her. She smiles, scratching between his ears. "Grimm, you're next buddy," you say as you open up the hatchback. Grimm joins his brother and you slam the door shut, walking over to your passenger seat to bring out the goodies.

"So what'd you bring us?" Gemma asks.

"Cheese sausage kolaches, as well as apple and raspberry," you tell her. "Also brought some coffee for you to try."

"Excellent. Let's sit down at the picnic tables. I'm sure some of the guys will find us there."

"Okay. Are my boys good to explore?"

"Sure thing." As you and Gemma settle down at one of the tables, you set everything out. She sits, eying the goods as you take off the lids. "So what do you recommend?"

"Personally I love the sausage kolaches," you tell her. "It's good, especially if you're in a rush."

"Alright. I'll try one of those." Gemma grabs one, arching an eyebrow at the size of the sausage wrapped in a puffy breading. You shrug and she takes a bite, and you nervously watch as she chews and chews before swallowing.

"Well?"

She grins and takes another bite. "Not what I was expecting, but it's good. Especially considering it's breakfast food."

You exhale with relief and then fill one of the cups with some coffee. "Try this. It's one of the blends I brew and sell. I don't have sugar or milk, so you'll have to drink it black."

Her nose wrinkles, but she accepts it anyway. "I don't like my coffee black, but I guess I can try it since you took the time to brew it."

Gemma takes a drink and you smirk when you see her eyes widen. "Good, right?"

"Oh, honey, please tell me you have more of this stuff stocked somewhere in your house?" Gemma takes another drink, savoring it. "I don't think I can wait until your grand opening."

You chuckle. "Don't worry. This is my favorite. I have lots at my house."

"Whoa! Whose fuckin' horses?!" You turn around and watch a curly-haired individual, guarding his crotch and pushing the faces of your dogs away from him.

"Tig!" Gemma shouts. "Come here." The individual in question looks over, running a hand over his face as if he'd just woken up before heading in your direction. One of your dogs shoves his nose into Tig's stomach and he winces, attempting to shove him away.

You and Gemma chuckle, but you end up whistling sharply to get your dogs' attention. They perk up, awaiting a command, and you snap your fingers before pointing at the asphalt next to the picnic table. "Lay down." They trot over to do as they're told and then when Tig drops into the spot next to Gemma, you smile apologetically. "Sorry about that. Grimm and Reaper love greeting new people."

Tig sits a little straighter. "Did you just call them Grimm and Reaper?"

"I did."

Tig slowly smirks and Gemma introduces the two of you. "Tig, meet YN and her children. They just moved to Charming. YN, this is Tig."

You nod at him. "Hello."

He nods back and, before Gemma can tell him to try anything, he grabs one of the apple kolaches and shoves it in his mouth. He groans and you grin, and he grabs another before pouring himself some coffee. "Gem, where did you get this stuff?"

Gemma smugly grins at you. "Our newest resident and friend here makes them. She's opening up a shop pretty soon."

Tig groans some more, grabbing a sausage kolache this time and eating half of it in one bite. "Sweetheart, if you truly made these I'll be your first customer."

"I did and I'll hold you to it." You slowly grin at him.

"Do you know when the grand opening will be?" Gemma asks.

"Yeah, it's-" Your phone suddenly rings and you cringe, apologizing to them while quickly pulling it out. Seeing your brother's name, you silence it and set it down on the table top. "So, uh, the grand opening will be probably in about two months or so. My usual hours are from five thirty in the morning until two in the afternoon, but for the first day I'll probably open at noon until five so no one has to worry about waking up super early for something they've never tried before."

"That's smart," Gemma says.

The roar of motorcycles catches your attention and Gemma waves them off. "It's just Jax and a few others. They had a run a couple of days ago, so they're just returning."

You nod as if you understand what a run for them means, watching as the four men disembark their bikes. The tall man with a full beard and a beanie adorning his head is the one who nudges Jax and gestures in your direction, and you smile when you see recognition dawn on the blonde dreamboat. Grimm and Reaper notice him then, whining and twitching as if they're about to disobey your earlier command.

Rolling your eyes at your dogs, you grin and glance back up at Jax. "Guard your nuts!" You shout, laughing when Jax seems to brace himself and then cover himself. The other three men with him look curiously at you and the second you utter, "Go!", they freeze when the two Great Danes leap up and bound towards them.

"Holy shit!" The brown-skinned man with a mohawk exclaims. "These dogs are huge!"

Grimm and Reaper happily greet Jax before trying their luck with the other three, and you snort when two of them get noses to the crotch.

"You met my boy?" Gemma asks.

You glance back at her, nodding. "At the supermarket. I was having trouble with the bags of dog food. Jax offered a hand." She looks pleased about that tidbit of information, but before either of you can say anything, the men are joining you.

"Hey, YN. What are you doing here?" Jax takes a seat next to you, straddling the bench to your left while the bearded biker takes a seat on your right. Both men each have a dog interested in them.

"I brought some stuff over for your mom to try. She and Tig are fans."

He smiles. "Oh yeah? What'd you bring?"

Someone groans and you look over at the mohawked man who's clutching a styrofoam cup in his hands. "Goddamn that's some good coffee."

The other two men you don't know take that as their cue to reach for something to eat and drink, and Jax shakes his head at them. He makes introductions for you, gesturing to Happy, Juice and then Opie who's sitting on your other side. You smile at each of them and then at Jax when he grabs something to eat. Each of them are surprised and practically eat everything you've brought, and it's Juice who asks where you got the coffee from.

"I, uh, I have it flown in for my shop," you tell him. "Pretty Baked is still a couple months away from opening, but I got a few bags of the coffee at my house. I'll bring a bag so you guys can have some here."

"Pretty Baked?" Opie asks, lips twitching.

"My bakery," you tell him, chuckling bashfully. "I might have been a little stoned while brainstorming name ideas. My uncle thought it was hilarious and now I'm opening a second location here in Charming."

Your phone vibrates on the tabletop and once you see the name, you silence the vibrations. "You can get that," Gemma says. "That's the second call you've ignored."

"It's fine." You shake your head, grinning. "Just the brother." Out of the corner of your eye, you see Grimm set his big head on the table, staring at Happy who's shoving a pastry into his mouth. "Grimm! Head off the table." Grimm whines, but does as he's told. Only to plop his head on Happy's knee. "I swear they're better mannered. I just have a feeling that Happy fed him and now he's kissing his ass."

The table chuckles. Your phone vibrates again and you swipe it off the table, silencing it and shoving it into your pocket.

"Alright. Spill," Gemma says.

"Spill what?"

"You know exactly what. Why are you dodging your brother's call? You runnin' or something?"

"Not really." Your vague answer doesn't sit well with anyone and you sigh when you realize the whole table is expecting more. Glancing at Gemma, you ask, "So remember how I told you my brother split with his half of the life insurance money?"

"Yeah."

"Well when his half ran out, he came crawling back when he realized my little shop was bringing in some cash. He asked for money to make ends meet and I coughed it up."

Opie huffs. "Big mistake."

"Yeah, well he was my brother," you say in defense of your actions. "Everyone warned me not to, but I didn't listen. And then soon enough the cash I gave him went from paying his bills to paying for his drunken benders and hookups." You reach for one of the last remaining pastries and take a bite out of it. "Anyway, I finally put my foot down and stopped giving away my money. He had the audacity to call it family money as if he worked his ass for it and eventually I got tired of his pestering. My uncle gave his full support of me leaving Texas and here I am. The phone calls are probably just my idiot brother only now realizing that his personal ATM is no longer within a five minute drive."

"I'm sorry, baby," Gemma says. "That's no way to treat family."

"Yeah."

"You worried he'll come looking?" Jax wonders, gaze concerned.

You glance at him, shaking your head. "Nah. And if he does, I'll just have to deal with his nagging. I'm good."

You sit around a little while longer before the guys have to go. Jax squeezes your shoulder before he takes his leave, everyone else welcoming you to Charming before filling up their cups one last time, petting Grimm and Reaper, and then heading into the building connected to the garage.

"They like you," Gemma muses once it's just you and her again.

"They were probably just exhausted after whatever run they got back from and were grateful for the fuel."

"If that's what you want to think."

Your phone vibrates in your pocket again and you sigh. "I should get going and finally deal with my brother," you say. "We should do this again."

"We will. Keep me updated on your shop as well. If you need any help, you have my number."

Over the next couple of months, Gemma stays true to her word and helps you out around the shop. Even the Sons of Anarchy show up, doing some heavy lifting when your kitchen appliances finally arrive. Then after the shop was put together, you knew you couldn't do everything on your own. So after putting flyers out around town, you took a chance on hiring two newly graduated teenagers just looking for some easy money during their gap year- two teenagers who didn't cower at the sight of the Sons, but still talked to them with the respect that they showed everyone else.

The day of Pretty Baked's grand opening in California, you drop off Grimm and Reaper at the auto shop where the club's prospect Half-Sack happily takes over care for them for the day. Chibs, Bobby, Juice and Happy wish you luck, and Gemma rides with you to the shop to get ready. Emma and Todd, your teenage help, are already sweeping and wiping down the tables and counters when you get in.

At five minutes 'til opening, you glance out the front windows and are surprised to see a small crowd gathering.

"Chin up, sweetheart, and smile pretty," Gemma says as she slides an arm around your shoulders, leading you towards the door. "The local paper is here too. They want to do an article on Pretty Baked."

"Oh my god," you quietly groan.

Emma and Todd laugh, the two of them following behind you. Gemma squeezes your shoulder before stepping off to the side, and your two employees stand on either side of you. The small crowd quiets down, the only sound being the click and flash of a camera as you decide to address them.

You give a small speech, thanking them for coming out and giving your little shop a chance. The local paper's photographer asks for a picture of you and your employees posed in front, and then you're opening the door and welcoming everyone inside.

You have three different flavored sausage kolaches and four different fruit kolache flavors for sale, as well as three different blends of coffee. And while you dealt with the food sales, Emma and Todd handled the coffees since you taught them how to brew them properly. You weren't surprised that the sausage kolaches did well, but you were surprised with the fruit sales. Apparently the strawberry and cream cheese was a big hit, as was the coffee that some of your elderly visitors loved because of the low prices.

At around three, you find yourself in the kitchen making another batch of fruit kolaches. Pretty Baked was doing well and you were excited, as were the teenagers manning the front for you with Gemma keeping a watchful eye over everyone coming and going.

Just as you placed three trays into the oven, there's a knock on the back door. You frown, heading towards it a bit warily, but the grinning face just outside the small tempered glass window makes you sigh and roll your eyes.

You push open the door, shaking your head. "You do know the front door works perfectly well, don't you?"

Jax steps in, shutting the door behind him and following you into the kitchen. "Yeah, but then I'd have to stay out there like a normal customer and not be able to keep you company back here."

"Aw. Such a charmer, Mr. Teller," you muse in your best southern accent. "I'm the one from the South. Aren't I supposed to be the one charming your pants off?"

"You tryin' to get me out of my pants, darlin'?" His eyes sparkle and you throw a dish towel at him when his words make you blush. He laughs.

"You're cute," you admit, shaking your head in amusement and sliding over a tray of done pastries for him to snack from. "But I know a losing battle when I see one."

"Losing battle?" His eyebrow arches, but his gaze is set on the pastries before he chooses an apple kolache.

"Mhm. From the couple of parties I've been invited to, courtesy of Gemma, those women- what do you call them, sweetbutts?- have all laid claim to the president." He scoffs, filling his mouth with food. "And let's not forget the ex who's been circling, pissing off your mom every other day."

Jax frowns as his eyes snap to you. "Tara? She botherin' you?"

"She's not bothering me," you tell him, chuckling softly. "I've just seen her around a couple of times out and about in Charming. She seems perfectly capable of checking her vehicle all on her own, but the second a kutte is within sight distance, she acts like an oblivious female who has no idea how to change a tire." You shrug. "Your mom saw it on one of our shopping excursions and called her out. There was a whole yelling match about old heartbreak and manipulative cunts."

"Jesus." Jax groans quietly. Then quickly collecting himself, he apologizes. "I'm so sorry you had to deal with their bullshit."

"Don't worry about it. I might not enjoy being dragged into drama, but I do love to watch it unfold. And your mother," you trail off, laughing. "She's the biggest shit stirrer I've ever met. I love it."

"You and my ma are going to be trouble, aren't 'ya?"

"Who, me?" You set your elbows on the metal tabletop, clasping your hands together and then setting your chin atop your clasped hands. Batting your eyelashes, you say, "But I'm just a lil' 'ol bakery owner from Texas. I don't got a mean bone in my body."

Jax snorts. "Bull. I heard how you southern women politely insult others by blessing their hearts or some shit."

You laugh and push off the table, heading to the sink to wash some dishes. "I'm still not getting into a catfight over you, Jackson. My fighting days are over."

"Yeah? We'll see about that."

His words make you freeze, and when you glance over your shoulder his smirk is enough to get your heart pounding.

Stupid Jax Teller and his pretty smile.

Over the next few months, Pretty Baked did excellent for being in such a small town such as Charming. In fact, it did so well that you were able to expand the shop's menu pretty early on, adding breakfast sandwiches, doughnuts, and bagels to it. People only had good things to say about your shop and work ethic that no one really said a word about you associating with the Sons of Anarchy. At least not to your face they didn't.

Surprisingly, Gemma became a constant fixture in your life. You got to know the Sons of Anarchy, most of whom you came to adore, and their clubhouse became a second home for Grimm and Reaper when you needed a dog sitter or one of the men wanted to hang out with your two beasts. You knew there was more to their motorcycle enthusiasts' schtick, but you never cared to figure out exactly what it was that they truly did. You got to hang out in their clubhouse, much to the sweetbutts' displeasure, and confuse the hell out of everyone when you and Jax would flirt but never take it any further than that.

Soon all anyone can talk about is the Taste of Charming, but you opt out of putting up your own booth since you wanted to enjoy the festivities before participating the following year. The various businesses around the small-town set up booths, either selling food or handmade goods to raise funds for their shops and/or the local schools. It was very family orientated, so you spoke to the Chamber of Commerce who was putting on the small festival to make sure it was okay to have your Great Danes with you. And after making sure they were well behaved and would be on leashes, they granted you your request.

After stuffing a backpack full of necessities for your dogs to look after them and pick up after them, you dress comfortably in a tank top and shorts, and drive out towards the center of town. And when you find parking, you clip on Grimm and Reaper's leashes, and take off exploring. Many people ooh and aww over your dogs, and you're very grateful that they're well behaved as strangers pet and ask to take pictures with them.

After you've explored and spent some cash at various booths, you find your way to the Teller-Morrow Automotive booth where Gemma is serving up bowls of chili.

"So this is the infamous chili I've been hearing about, huh?" You muse. You transfer both leashes into one hand, reaching over to grab a tortilla chip from Juice's plate to dip into his own bowl of chili. He squawks and you grin, tasting the chili for yourself. "Oh. That's good."

"Told you." You glance over at Gemma as she smirks. "Now do you wanna get your ass behind this booth and help out?"

"What do I do with Grimm and Reaper?"

"Hand them over, gorgeous. Uncle Tig wants some quality time with his nephews."

Laughing, you shake your head as the eccentric biker takes the leashes from your hand, proudly marching off with your dogs and Juice in tow. Then turning back to Gemma, you say, "Let me just wash up and then I'm all yours."

Since half the booths set up are selling food, there's been a portable washing station set up. You walk up to it, washing and sanitizing, and then putting on gloves so you can handle the food.

Gemma ends up taking a backseat to her own booth, filling up the bowls while you deal with the people. And with you at the front of the booth, it's a bit of a shock that more people stop by.

"Typical," Gemma scoffs when there's a lull in the crowd. "I serve the food and we just get our regulars who have no issues with the club. You serve and everyone suddenly flocks to the booth."

You grin at the moody woman. "At least the club is pulling in some cash. Maybe this time you can actually beat the Fire Department."

Gemma glances at the booth in question, sneering at the firefighters who are grilling it up next to the police department's booth. "Yeah. Maybe."

You chuckle and then get back to work when a couple more individuals walk up to try the chili.

"What are you doing working the booth?" You glance up at the question, smiling at Jax standing there in his kutte, white tee and jeans. "I thought you wanted to explore."

"I did and then I decided to try your mom's chili. She roped me in."

"She's good at getting people to do her bidding."

You shrug. "It's fine. Tig and Juice took the dogs off my hands, and I was happy to help." Jax steps aside as a customer walks up, watching you smile and talk to the customer as politely as possible. "Where's everyone else?" You ask once the customer has walked off with their food.

Jax leans against the booth, accepting a bowl of chili from Gemma before dropping a bill into the tips container. "Around. Bobby volunteered at the dunking booth to raise money for the school, so Chibs and Happy are spending their cash trying to dunk him." You laugh. "And Opie's around here somewhere with his wife and kids."

"And then there's lil' 'ol you walking around all on your lonesome," you tease.

"I wouldn't be alone if someone would abandon their duties to a certain booth and walk around with me."

"And leave Gem all on her lonesome?" You gasp. "Never."

"Jax, leave YN alone," Gemma says. "She's the only reason all these new people are approaching the booth. Go bother someone else."

He rolls his eyes, grinning all the while. "Whatever you say, ma." Then looking at you, he winks. "I'll come back for you later. Don't leave."

"Yeah, yeah." And before Jax can leave, you say, "Hey, can you do me a favor?"

"Sure."

"In my backpack, there are some collapsible bowls for Grimm and Reaper. Can you take them to Tig so he can give them water? I'm sure he's fed them anything he can get his hands on around here."

Jax chuckles. "Sure thing, darlin'."

After a couple more hours, the crowds start to thin when the sun dips in the sky and Gemma decides to call it a day. She has Half-Sack and Juice clean out the pots and utensils, and then has them dismantle the booth to stash away in the van while they continue to make their presence known around the festivities. Gemma sticks around Bobby as he counts the money the booth made, so Jax pulls you away to have a bit more fun. He tucks you under his arm so your arm closest to him slides around the back of his waist, and then the two of you are off browsing booths that are still standing.

There's a booth dedicated to the Elementary School that's selling friendship bracelets and other beaded bracelets that have different charms on them. The black beaded bracelets catch your attention, and you carefully peer at what charms the bracelets hold.

"Oh hey," you say when one bracelet catches your attention. "Look at the little skulls." You reach for the bracelet in question, stepping away from Jax so you can look for more. Every small bead on the bracelet is black, with the exception of a single white skull charm sitting in the middle. "I'm taking it."

Jax grins. "You a fan of skulls?"

"I'm a fan of lots of things," you tell him. There's another black beaded bracelet, but the single charm on this one is an iridescent lotus flower charm. You gasp in delight, excited when you find a second lotus flower bracelet so you can gift to Emma. Then grabbing a blue threaded friendship bracelet for Todd, you hand over the four bracelets to the booth attendant so you can purchase them.

"Seven dollars," the woman kindly tells you as she places the bracelets in a small paper bag.

And before you can reach into your pocket for the bit of cash you were carrying around, Jax hands over a ten dollar bill while grabbing your bracelets in return. "Keep the change, sweetheart."

The woman blushes as she stutters out a thank you, and then Jax is steering you away as he hands you the paper bag. You gently shove your elbow into his side, shaking your head at him. "You didn't have to do that, but thank you."

"Of course." He smirks down at you before once again you find yourself under his arm.

You walk around a bit more, buying candy apples for both yourself and Jax, and then Jax buying you a flower crown that has cascading multicolor ribbons that would go down your back from the florist booth. You spot Tig when you're walking around, happily chilling with your dogs still so you leave him be. And then when you make your way back to Gemma, she's looking far too smug while staring at the glowering members of the fire department.

"What's going on?" Jax asks.

Bobby looks up, chuckling. "Guess which booth just put an end to the fire department's reign of smugness?"

Jax laughs. "No way. We finally made more money than them?"

"Sure did," Gemma muses. "And we got our favorite little baker to thank for that."

You blush when she smirks at you, but before anything else can be said, someone's talking into a microphone atop a stage in the middle of all the festivities.

"Attention Charming residents," a man says, "this year, we decided to add a little more fun competition to the schedule and give out a little extra cash to the businesses who keep our little town on the map." Many people whoop and cheer. "It's a game of karaoke. Each booth vendor can send up one person to play for them and the winner will take home an extra five hundred dollars!"

As the people cheer, your jaw drops. "Holy shit."

"You can say that again," Bobby says.

"The karaoke game is a Finish the Lyrics game. We're going to play ten songs- songs that can be from any year or may be entirely from this year, no one knows except the one in control of the music- and the first to buzz in and sing at least ten seconds of the song gets a point towards whichever shop they're playing for."

"Fuck," Jax swears. "Who do we have that knows at least every genre of music?"

"There's Juice," Bobby grumbles. "He's into all this new age shit."

"Nah. He's into all that alternative shit. I doubt they'll play enough of it for him to pull out a win."

You chew on your bottom lip, not saying a word as you glance at the stage. Emma, the teenager who works for you at Pretty Baked, is standing behind a laptop and tapping keys here and there. When she glances up, she meets your gaze and smirks. She winks and then gestures to the microphone stands being set up on stage, conveying she thinks that you should play. You sigh and then glance back at Gemma and Jax who are still conversing about the extra cash when some of the boys from the fire department and police department pass by, knocking their shoulder into Bobby.

"Better luck next time, biker trash." Someone from the fire department sneers.

"Looks like we're gonna surpass your shitty little auto club again with this win," another one says.

Jax lunges for the fireman, but suddenly Happy and Chibs appear out of nowhere, catching him. The men from the fire department and police department laugh, heading for the stage.

You catch Emma's eye again and she gestures to the contestants, widening her eyes to urge you to play. You close your eyes, raising a hand as you shout, "I'm in!"

To be continued..

#jax teller x reader #jax teller imagine #sons of anarchy imagine #soa imagine #sons of anarchy #soa #jax teller #gemma teller morrow

2K notes · View notes