#sons of anarchy fanfiction
Text
good enough to eat.
rating: explicit. 18+ only.
length: 2,116
content: Jax Teller x f!reader, established relationship, smut [receiving fingering, unprotected p in v], kink(s) [spit as lube, breeding]
when Jax is starving, there's no waiting.
When your partner returned from a daytime ride you were busy with the final preparations of dinner, setting the table for yourselves and your parents who would be joining you for the first time. His boots against the hard wood signified he’d found you in the dining room setting the table before they paused, his large frame pausing to lean against the door frame and soak in the pretty little dress and red panty hose you’d worn today.
“Call your parents and cancel,” he instructed, and if it were anyone else his demanding tone would have been enough to set you off. From Jax, however, it had only ever felt right to listen to him. Even still, this wasn’t exactly the kind of notice you gave when cancelling plans.
“What?” You questioned, turning to face him with a puzzled look on your face. Jax nearly groaned at the sight of you in red lipstick. “Is something wrong? Did something happen while you were out?”
He walked toward you then, trapping you between the table and himself with hands grasping both of your hips to encourage you to sit on the surface. His blue eyes shining with something mischievous and hungry he shook his head, hands leaving you to rest on either side of your waist on the table. “Had a good ride, nothin’ went wrong,” he replied, eyes dragging down your body slowly. “I woulda come back sooner had I know this is what was waiting for me.”
Before you could interrogate him, he leaned down to capture your lips in a bruising kiss, one of his knees knocking your legs apart so he could step between them. He always kissed you like a man on death row – you supposed he was in a way – and now was no exception, his tongue entering your mouth to kiss you deeply until you were breathless. Your parents were due on your front porch in an hour. Still, you couldn’t help your curiosity.
“If you knew what was waiting for you? Dinner? It's a special dinner, I told you what I was making,” you started as you gasped for normal breaths, his lips trailing a familiar route to your neck where he kissed over your pulse.
“Not the food, I don’t give a shit about that right now. I’m talking about you,” he breathed out, sucking softly on the most sensitive part of your neck, lips molding into a smile against your skin when you gasped. “You look so fucking pretty in this dress setting the dinner after cooking all day. Like a proper little housewife. Where’s Abel?”
“He…he went down for a nap a little bit ago,” you gasped out. It was almost shameful how fast you melted beneath him, how fast his soft lips and rough beard against your neck had you gripping his shoulders. “But my parents…”
“Don’t want to see what I’m about to do to you, sweetheart,” he cooed to silence your whine, his lips brushing lightly against the sensitive spot behind your ear. Even after months of being with Jax you still felt goosebumps break out on your skin when he whispered in your ear. “Don’t care what you tell ‘em, besides not to come. Tell ‘em Abel is sick, or you’re sick, or hell – tell ‘em the truth.”
You definitely weren’t going to tell them the truth, but there was no use attempting to say no to him when he was running the tip of his tongue on the spot, causing a shudder down your spine. “What about dinner, Jax? I worked away all day in that kitchen…”
“Don’t worry, darlin’, I’ll make it up to ya,” he cooed, nipping at the spot before withdrawing to look up into your face again, his nose lightly brushing against your jaw as he went. He tapped your phone on the table beside you to further his point. “I can’t wait hours, I’ve gotta have you right now.”
You picked up your phone with a shaking hand, Jax smiling triumphantly before using one hand departed the table to slide up your thigh, pushing the skirt of your dress higher until it was around your hips. As you managed the number to dial your mother, he stepped backwards to take you in, mouthing “no panties?” to you. You bit at you lip and nodded as a smile broke out across his face, cheeks burning red as the familiar voice answered.
“Hi mom,” you greeted, sounding entirely too normal for Jax. He reached a hand forward, running a finger experimentally over the crotch of your hose that was already soaked with your arousal. He smirked when your voice hitched higher, his finger sliding to connect to your clit. “I’m so s-sorry to do this last minute, but I don’t think you should come over. Abel has been throwing up and is running a fever…y-yeah, I’m sure he’ll be okay…okay I will…okay maybe tomorrow. Love you too, bye.”
His lips connected with yours again as he took the phone from your hand, sliding it down the table to remove any change of distraction. The kiss became desperate, his hunger burning through as he applied more pressure to the kiss, his hand now working his pants down his hips to free his straining cock. Once unencumbered by his pants and underwear he attempted to pull your panty hose down with a tug to the material over your thigh, pulling away from the kiss with a huff when there was no give.
“I don’t have time for this shit,” he snapped, connected both hands to the material and tearing so there was a hole in the crotch area. He bowed his head to connect his lips to your neck again, his fingers swiping through your folds experimentally. He smiled crookedly when you moaned quietly, head falling back to give him better access to your neck. He nibbled at the spot behind your ear before slipping his index finger into your velvet entrance. “So, fucking wet, baby. Bet you could take me with no warmup you’re so soaked.”
You whimpered at his words, sliding a hand to the back of his head and lacing your fingers in his hair to tug his head backward, twisting your head to kiss him desperately again. He gave you a few pumps with his index finger before adding a second, repeating the thrusts and picking up the speed to piston the tips into the spongy spot behind your clit.
“Fuck,” you whined when you released him from the kiss for air, Jax immediately running his eyes over your face to drink in your expression before running them back down your body, watching his fingers disappear into you repeatedly with the most vulgar, wet noises. He removed his hand from your hip to connect that thumb to your clit, expert figure eights combining with his thick fingers to coax you toward oblivion.
“That’s it, baby,” he cooed, nipping at your collar bone gently, smirking when your hips bucked upwards at his praise. “You go ahead and make a mess on my fingers, and I’ll fuck you right here.”
He curled his fingers again, repeating the motion over and over in time with the circles he was rubbing on your clit until your legs were shaking. As much as he loved to watch you gush around him when you orgasmed, he connected his lips to yours again, swallowing the loud cry that came from you as you did exactly that. Your vision blinded by white and senses on overload you hardly noticed his hands leave you, one fisting his cock firmly to give it a few pumps as the other grasped your hip, pulling you to the edge of the table.
When you became barely aware again you felt pre-cum leaking head being rubbed through your truly soaked folds before he dipped into you, slowly sliding inch by inch into your wet heat. He pulled away from the kiss again to watch his cock disappear into you, groaning quietly as he leaned his forehead to your shoulder. You turned your head to kiss behind his ear as he had already done for you several times tonight, a shudder running up his spine as he buried into you to the hilt.
Once he felt the head of his cock bump into your cervix he stilled for a moment, giving you a chance to adjust to him – he was so thick it didn’t matter how many times he’d taken you, there was always a stretch to accommodate him. You wrapped your arms around his neck after encouraging him to raise his head again, your hooded gaze meeting his before you leaned forward to bite at his bottom lip gently, pulling back to signify he could move.
And oh, could he move. Jax Teller had the hips of a god, his thrusts into you slow and sensual and so deliberate, each inch of him massaging your inner walls perfectly. When you released his lip from your teeth to moan and slide one hand to the back of his head, fingers clutching his hair slightly he set the perfect pace, groaning at a feeling that got better every time he had you.
He removed his gaze from your connected cores to look deep into your eyes, releasing a shaky breath. “You are so fucking beautiful,” he panted out between breaths, leaning his forehead against yours. “You’ve been so good lately, taking care of us. Fuck, I’m crazy about you. Who’d you get all pretty for today?”
“You,” you whined out, barely capable of forming a coherent thought let alone words as he found the perfect spot to bump with each thrust. The hand you had on his shoulder gripped harder, your fingernails denting the leather he still wore.
“Say my name,” he groaned out the instruction, one he often had to give as you lost yourself in him. He connected his thumb to your clit again, increasing the challenge knowing full well he was pushing you toward another orgasm and taunting you with the ledge. “Whose pretty fucking housewife are you, baby girl? Tell me that and I’ll think about lettin’ you make a mess on my cock, but not before then.”
You whimpered loudly, pulling his hair slightly to hold his head back so you could connect your gaze with his icy blue eyes, full of so much adoration it was almost sickening. Wanting to only add to it more you nodded, gasping out your words in moans. “’m yours, Jax,” you whined, clutching onto him tighter as you pressed gentle kisses to his lips over and over. “Fuck, I love being yours.”
He practically growled as his motions on your clit quickened, spitting between your bodies to give himself more lubricant to rub faster and faster. He started kissing you gently then, lovingly and soft as his breathing increased, sweat breaking across his brow in concentration. When your legs began to shake slightly he slowed his movements, bumping the tip of his nose against yours lightly. His next words were quiet, serious as he fought to hold off his own release. “Lemme fill you up then,” he asked, though it hardly came out as a question the intent was clear. “Wanna see you pregnant with my baby.”
Your walls clenched around him involuntarily at his words, a silent confirmation if the pornographic moan that fell from your lips wasn’t enough. Suddenly he could move again, and he did so perfectly, coaxing you right back to the edge of release. When your walls began to flutter around him he simply nodded, connecting his lips to yours in a heated kiss as your second orgasm rushed through you. With a few more thrusts of his hips, he spilled his own release into you with a groan, opting to pull away from the kiss to lean his forehead against yours gently.
When you’d both finished and fallen into one another’s arms, faces buried in each other’s neck, you pressed lazy kisses wherever your lips were able, hands rubbing gently in whatever positions they’d landed. When he pulled his head away to look down at your neck, he smiled at the perfect marks he’d managed to leave, the sight almost good enough to make him hard again. Forcing himself to maintain composure he removed himself from you, running his eyes down your body to where your combined releases were dripping from you.
“…can I eat before you take me to bed?”
He questioned, eyes flashing with the mischief that meant he was far from done with you. This new family dinner was certainly something you could adapt to.
masterlist.
#jax teller#sons of anarchy#jax teller x reader#jax teller x you#jax teller smut#jax teller fanfiction#sons of anarchy smut#sons of anarchy fanfiction#charlie hunnam
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All Eyes On You
A/N: Okay, it's finally done. This did not go where I had initially imagined it but I mostly like how this came out. I think it's kinda different from what I've written in the past. I tried to make this PWP and Jax being savage but I always add softness to Jax. I can't help it. Also, I don't know how porn sets are so, yeah. Didn't want to focus too much on the logistics of all that. Also, clearly this is AU. Hope this doesn't disappoint.
Rating: E (18+ ONLY)
Word Count: 3,597
Pairing: Pornstar!Jax x Pornstar!F!Reader
Plot: Getting railed by Jax Teller is only one of the perks of your job.
Contains: porn star/shooting porn, sex work, some D/s dynamics, sex (PiV), oral sex (F and M receiving), exhibitionism, voyeurism, degradation, humiliation, name-calling (slut, whore), light spanking, light choking, dirty talking, masturbation, praising (good girl), cream pie, a quick moment of edging if you squint, aftercare
"We need to find more honest ways of living."
Since Jax became President, he has wanted to steer the club away from the guns and other underground dealings. He was open to all ideas and for him, no idea was a bad idea until it’s been tried. When his business partner running the SAMCRO-funded and protected porn production company jokingly suggested for Jax to star in a few movies, he actually considered it. Getting paid to have sex? He's already doing it for free. Everyone's gotta earn their keep, right? Would it be too degrading? He's supposed to be the leader and he's leading his club into selling their bodies, maybe even their dignity. Not to mention the conflict of interest. Still, he brought it up to the table anyway and they voted on it. Surprisingly most voted yes, although mostly for pure amusement.
What started as a joke to them actually became one of their honest ways of earning. Well, at least for Jax. The others didn't have the balls to do it, but that didn’t stop them from reaping the benefits of tagging along with Jax whenever he had to go shoot some scenes. Money doesn't lie and when they saw their revenue continuously multiply shortly after his debut released, they knew they had a cash cow. Since then, Jax had dedicated a day each month to shooting his scenes. As long as he agrees with the script, he has no problem. Sometimes he'd even make suggestions. He gets producer credit for those as well.
His content is the most exclusive one they have so they strategically make less of it. Gotta keep teasing his fans. Besides, he actually enjoys the attention. If it was any possible, his ego has inflated to be bigger than his dick and that in itself says a lot. It was as if God himself designed him to be a porn star. It was so effortless for him.
Their business has expanded so they their talent pool did as well and let's just say there is no shortage of women - and men - wanting a chance at fucking Jax Teller. You're just happy that you're one of them who made the cut.
Your legs are pushed back to your chest as Jax has his face in between your thighs. You toss and turn your head, feeling his tongue and lips licking and sucking your folds. As you look off camera, you notice there are so many pairs of eyes on you as you lay there naked, spread so wide for the whole world to see your pussy getting eaten out by Jax Teller, suddenly getting a rush. Jax flips you over on your belly and he yanks your hips back so you're on your knees with your ass popped up. He shoves his face back in and you push back, moaning when you feel the tip of his nose nudge your asshole. Jax moves away and aligns himself with you. He shoves his thick, hard cock inside of you and you yelp.
You brace yourself on the bed and turn your head to look behind you, at Jax as he pounds away, already quickly building an orgasm. You notice someone in the far corner behind Jax touching himself through the front of his jeans and you make eye contact, or so you think. He's a bit under the shadows and a studio light is blinding you, but it doesn't matter. This man is turned on by you getting fucked and that's turning you on. You can feel yourself getting more arousd with each plunge Jax takes and each stroke the mysterious man makes.
"Fuck, you're so wet," Jax growls.
"I'm gonna cum! I'm gonna cum!" You warn and before you know it, your muscles contract on his cock and you moan out loud, maybe embellishing your cries just a little.
Jax continues to fuck you hard and fast, drawing out your orgasm.
"That's my girl," he praises and then smacks your ass.
"CUT! Let's get behind them and get a shot of her getting fucked from behind. Back in positions!" the director shouts.
"You alright?" Jax checks on you.
"Yeah, that was a good one," you breathe out while you wiggle your ass back into position, opening and exposing yourself to him and the camera.
"Think you can do that again, sweetheart?" he asks as his thumb slowly slides in and out of the entrance of your dripping slit, teasing you.
You push back and mewl. Talents aren't supposed to engage in any sexual contact while cameras aren't rolling. Although it's not a perfect system, it helps to keep interactions professional and avoid unwanted advances. Fluffers exist for a reason. You and Jax are an exception though. You've been scene partners for a while now and are very comfortable with each other. You can't really say how it is for the other women he's done scenes with, but when you and Jax are fucking, you feel it in your soul and you know he can too. There's just this playful and cozy rapport between you two that allows you both to work together very well.
You swear Jax, the pleasure dom that he is - and what his onscreen alter ego is known for - always makes it a point to pull as many orgasms as he can out of you and you can't even fake yours. Not with him. He can tell when they're real but with him, you don’t even need to fake them. Your exes couldn't even figure out 10% of the ways Jax has learned the ins and outs of your body. Heck, he taught you a few things about your own body.
Between cut and action are the times your pussy aches the most, missing the fullness of Jax's thick cock, stretching you out in all the best ways. People have said porn is fake, but it's not. Scripted? Sure, but it's not fake, at least not all of it. Actual penises are actually penetrating actual vaginas, assholes and mouths. You've sure tasted enough semen to know it's real. Your bruised cervix is more proof of it. Don't forget the sore jaw, but they're all worth it especially if it's all because of Jax. You're also reminded of why you love doing what you do when you notice all eyes on you and Jax again.
"Quiet on set!" the director warns. "Aaaand ACTION!"
You gasp when Jax shoves back into you without warning. He angles himself in favor of the camera, but pushes in deeper and faster. Your eyes wander again and find these two men wearing kuttes off to the side watching. You recognize the one you make eye contact with and you maintain it while getting railed. You've seen him around sometimes whenever Jax comes by. He smacks your ass and you yelp, pushing back against him, chasing another release. The man you're having a staring contest with shifts uncomfortably while adjusting the front of his jeans. You reach for your bare breasts and start pinching your nipples. Your hips stutter when you feel an orgasm close to sliding into home base. You clench and moan as you get closer and closer.
"CUT! Okay that should be enough coverage. Moving on to uh..."
You growl in frustration when Jax stills his hips.
"Sorry, baby. I'd give you relief, but I think maybe we should save that for the camera," he teases as he makes his cock twitch while still inside you, making you cockwarm him between takes.
"Okay, so we're gonna transition to blowjob. Let's start from where we left off. Jax pulls out and then she turns around and sucks him off," the director tells the crew. "Then at some point, Jax, you put her on her back and go missionary."
You shudder suddenly when Jax spreads your juices around with the pad of his thumb and starts teasing your asshole with it, putting just the slightest pressure.
"Jax..." you pant.
"Shh. Be a good girl and hold it," he coos. ”Can you do that for me, baby?”
The line between fantasy and reality definitely blurs for the both of you sometimes, but you both also just enjoy each other that much. Finally they call action again and Jax starts giving you a few short shallow pumps, making you wail from relief, until he pulls out and spanks you.
"Come suck my dick," he commands, holding his cock out for you.
You manage to turn around so you're on your knees and elbows, face to face with his hard cock that's soaked in your juices. You immediately put your lips over his dark red tip and bob up and down, taking more and more of him each time you push in. As you jerk him, you ram his cock into the back of your throat, fitting as much of him as you can. Feeling your gag reflex surfacing, you encourage it to happen and then Jax fists your hair, pulling out a bit and pushing back in.
“Danny, go in for the close up of her,” the director jumps in.
When the cameraman moves in, Jax palms the back of your head and you remove your hand to deep throat him again. He gently pushes your head down and you relax your throat, trying to get more of him. When you gag again, intentionally doing it audibly, he instantly lets go and you pull him out. He grabs your chin and tilts your face up so he can see it. Tears leak out of your eyes and spit from your puffy, slick lips.
"Look at you. So pretty," he praises.
His baby blues penetrate your misty eyes. You don't know if he's just a great actor or as charming as people claim he is, but you believe, at least in the moment, that he thinks you're pretty. You continue to look up at him, playing into the camera, as this is a close up.
"Get on your back," he tells you.
As you turn over and Jax climbs over you, the cameraman steps out of your personal space, returning back to a wider shot. Jax leans down and smashes his lips over yours. His hand comes up to your face and cradles the side of it as he deepens the kiss. You kiss back, slipping your tongue between his lips and licking his pearly whites. He opens up his mouth and intertwines his own tongue with yours, tasting each other. Breaking the kiss, he pulls back, kneels and brings one of your legs up to spread them without blocking the camera’s view. He taps his cock against your clit and then slides the tip up and down your slit, teasing you, causing you to moan and your hips to jerk. He finally pushes inside of you and you arch your back. He pumps away as he holds your leg up, the muscles of his tattooed back flexing with each push and pull.
“Are you gonna cum again?” he asks.
You prop yourself up on your elbows and look down at where you meet. Your fingers reach in and you start rubbing your clit.
“Fuck, yeah, keeping touching yourself,” he encourages. “I want to feel you cum all over my cock again.”
With your next orgasm reaching the edge, your eyes wander to the man in the shadows behind Jax again. You see his hand is now in his pants and he’s unabashedly rubbing one out to this whole scene. Maybe he doesn’t think you can see him. You rub yourself a little faster and his hand matches your pacing.
“Oh god…” you start as you get closer to popping.
Jax drives into you faster and harder and before you know it, the coil snaps inside you and you cry out and arch up, thrashing as you ride the wave. You’ve already lost count of how many you’ve had as you’ve been doing this with Jax on and off already for the last hour or so.
“CUT! Okay, I think we’re gonna get to the money shot now. Are you ready for that Jax?”
“Yeah, I guess so,” he replies. “Can we get five?”
“Alright. Let’s do five!” the director shouts.
As the crew breaks, you let your legs fall to the sides and stretch out a bit while Jax slips off the bed, standing next to it. He starts massaging your hips and helps you rotate your leg one at a time.
“How do you feel? Do you need a longer break?”
“No, I’m good. Let’s just finish this,” you reply. “You really like to stretch me out. It’s like I’m getting a yoga session in whenever we pair up. In fact, it’s probably good for my body.”
“Here we go, biiiig stretch,” he says as he throws one of your legs over, twisting your torso and applying firm pressure on your thigh, stretching out your lower back and glutes. Then he does the same with the other side.
A satisfying moan rumbles from your throat as you feel your muscles loosening.
"Are you ready to show everyone what a fucking star you are?" Jax asks as you straighten your body out.
Your smile reaches your eyes and that tells Jax all he needs to know. You sit up and then bring your legs behind you to kneel on the bed. Jax licks his lips as he looks at you with an equally proud smirk. While biting your lower lip, you reach down and start stroking his semi-hard cock, bringing it back to life.
As people start returning to set, the director checks on the both of you.
“Just another minute,” Jax winks at the director as you continue to jerk him.
“Alright, everyone in your places!”
You start changing up your pace and technique, making him hiss and groan.
“Lay back,” Jax directs you and you fall back to return to your previous position.
He climbs back onto the bed and repositions you to the same one he put you in before the break and pushes into you, your dampness still so present. Your body melts, feeling so delightfully full again.
“Are we rolling?” the director asks. After confirmation, he calls action.
Jax pumps a few times into you, getting you both back on track. He pushes your leg back even more, spreading you out and changing his angle. When it feels like the right time, he then switches positions, curling up behind you and slipping himself back inside you, still holding your leg up and back.
His other hand snakes up to the front of your throat and he pulls your head back. You can hear him panting right into your ear as he thrusts away, You couldn’t be anymore exposed right now with your legs splayed open so wide and Jax fucking you from behind. Only way this could get better is if you had a few more cocks to fill your other holes.
“Look at all those people looking at you,” Jax grunts quietly into your ear, meant only for you and not the camera. “Watching you being such a fucking slut for me.”
His words just about pushed you closer to yet another orgasm which you know is the intentions behind them. You push back against him, trying to match his thrusts and get a deeper penetration as you glance over at all the people watching you. Jax starts pinching your nipple and you feel it shoot down below your belly.
“They’re memorizing how your juicy pussy looks and sounds as I pound into you. Imagining it’s their cock your pussy is gripping. The sexy sounds you make every time I stroke you just right. How shameless you are and loving every fucking second of it.” Jax’s dirty talk is rapidly fueling your next release and it’s evident as the wet sounds get even louder.
"I bet those perverts are gonna sniff these sheets after the shoot too just to feel a little closer to you."
Nothing gets you off more than knowing the power you know you have over your viewers. The thrill of them watching you getting stretched out and brazenly defiled especially when they need to jerk off to you, imagining they are the ones balls deep inside you. You don't get to see most of your actual audience but the thought is enough to intoxicate you. It also helps that Jax knows how you bring the inner slut out of you. The dirtier it gets, the more you want. You're putting on a different kind of show than what your viewers may think. You're not doing this for them; you're doing this purely for yourself, getting off on these people watching you on display.
“They’re storing it in their spank bank for later and when they need to rub one out, they’ll pull it right up, jerking themelves and cumming to you because you so desperately need to get fucked like a whore over and over again, cumming all over every cock that fills up your pussy,” Jax adds as he punches up into you, your ass slapping against the top of his thighs. The squelching increases with each thrust, pushing your arousal out of you.
You also get a different kind of rush from being so sexually freeing. The blood rushes to your face and your groin when you suddenly feel like you’ve been caught doing something so naughty. Shamefully being shameless as your holes get stuffed over and over again. Embarrassed to be seen in such a state but at the same time not wanting to stop because it just feels so damn good to the point you don’t care who is watching.
"You're gonna give me one more?" Jax asks as he continues to pound into you. “Huh, baby?”
He hooks his arm under your knee to hold it back, spreading you even wider and this time, it’s his long slender fingers that dip down between your legs to rub your clit.
"Come on, baby. Cum on my cock again," he encourages. “Just one more time.”
You slam your hips back against him, chasing your next release. Between his fingertips digging into the sides of your neck, the sweet filthy words spilling into your ear and him driving his hard, thick and long cock into your cunt, your body is already close to the end, but now him rubbing your swollen clit, it launches you right over to the line.
“Be a good girl and cum for me,” he grits.”Cum for me, you fucking slut.”
With that, your eyes roll back and you cry out. You are convulsing over him, your walls clamping down hard over his cock.
“That’s it! That’s my fucking girl,” he growls.
His pacing maintains even after you stop flopping around.
“Fuck, baby, I’m gonna cum too,” Jax pants, and then lets out a low moan as he empties himself inside you.
“Great! Danny, make sure you get a close up of the cream pie shot,” the director reminds him.
After Danny quickly repositions himself, Jax slowly pulls out of you and slaps your clit a few times, making you shudder. His hand reaches between your legs and spreads your lips open. You bear down and push his seed out of you. It leaks out of you and runs down to the crack of your ass. With your juices mixed in with his, he coats your lips with it using his fingers and runs it over your clit as well before sliding his fingers inside you, gently pushing it back in.
Jax turns your head to face him and leans in to kiss you tenderly.
“Okay, that’s a wrap! Let’s break and clean up for the next shoot.”
You continue to lazily make out with him, even well after cut was called. As the crew works around you and Jax, you stay lying in bed for a few more moments while stretching your muscles. Jax slips some shorts on and re-joins you, cuddling and spooning you after draping your robe over your naked body.
“Jax!” you giggle as he kisses a trail up the back of your shoulder and neck.
It’s almost unheard of but Jax always gives you aftercare after every shoot, especially the ones where it gets a bit degrading and painful. He does that with all his scene partners, but sometimes you like to imagine he only does it with you. Your mind starts drifting, falling into this comfortable and peaceful lull as he runs his fingers up and down your body that’s cocooned in his.
“Hey,” he nudges the tip of his nose against the back of your ear as he inhales your scent, waking you from your state.
“Hm?” you reply drowsily.
Then Jax finally pops the question you never thought he’d ask.
"You think you're ready for your first gang bang?" Jax asks.
Suddenly getting your second wind, you twist your body to face him and plant a kiss on his cheek, his smile now matching yours as your heart now grows full.
“Really?!” you ask as your eyes light up.
“I’ll even let you pick out your partners.”
Unable to contain your excitement, you squeal as your smile widens even more.
“Okay, I think we should go get cleaned up and get outta here before they have to kick us out,” he suggests. “I’m laying on a wet spot.”
Jax affectionately boops the tip of your nose with this finger and then kisses your forehead before helping you out of bed.
#Charlie hunnam#Charlie hunnam fanfiction#Jax teller#jax teller fanfiction#jax teller x reader#jax teller x you#jax teller x female reader#Jax teller x F!reader#sons of anarchy#sons of anarchy fanfiction#AU#pornstar!jax#pornstar!jax teller
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Masterlist!!
Delusional (Jax Teller X OC!)
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28
*** (Jax Teller X OC!) - Havent worked out a name for this yet!!
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11
Perfect Chaos (Angel Reyes X OC!)
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10
You Were A Bet (Angel Reyes X OC)
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
#sons of anarchy#sons of anarchy fanfiction#sons of anarchy imagine#Mayans MC#mayans imagine#mayans mc imagine#Jax Teller#jax teller imagine#jax teller x reader#jax teller x oc#Jax Teller x Female Reader#angel reyes#angel x reader#angel reyes imagine#angel reyes x reader#angel reyes fanfiction#angel reyes fic
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Summer - A Jax Teller/Reader Smut Short.
These sunny days have me feeling a certain way...
Words - 621
Warnings - Smut below the cut, minors DNI!
Lying upon the outdoor sofas in your backyard, all is well in your world, relaxed, happy, your man home with you instead of being up to his neck in club affairs. Life is good.
The summer heat kisses against your bare skin, warming, prickly, meeting the buzz from the many cocktails you’ve steadily been imbibing, your head spinning a little. That slight euphoric dizziness has much more to do with the mouth between your legs, though, if you’re honest.
“Having fun, darlin’?”
A sweet moan makes him smile against the soft wet of you, Jax chuckling, his tongue working magic over your clit as it laps and laves, sucking, making you swollen and needy for something more, but content to lie back and enjoy what he has to give in that moment.
His breath his hot against you, his beard giving delicious friction at your folds as he eats you rapaciously, chasing hot tingles over every nerve ending, relishing in the quench of your cunt as you melt over his tongue. “Fuck, I could spend all day down here, babe. You taste so good.”
“I’d let you, too.” you murmur, hands losing themselves in the spun gold of his blonde locks, your hips swaying, his hands grasping, grounding you as his tongue roots into your pussy, dipping back and forth, a long, flat lick returning it to your clit, his groans all smoke and grit, fingers gripping the soft of your thighs as he buries his mouth against you greedily.
“I will, if you want me to.” Pausing, he kisses his way up your inner thigh, fingers swiping your folds, stroking pure bliss over your aching bud. “Or I could just give you my cock right now, because shit, I’m so fucking hard.”
As much as you love his mouth upon you, that big, thick erection within his grey sweats is the kind of gift you cannot pass up, reaching to stroke his face, Jax turning his head to suck your fingers, his eyes burning cool fire as he stares up at you.
You instruction is simple. “Fuck me.”
He grins, getting up to pull off his sweats, parting you knees and pushing against the inviting sight of your sparkling little hole. The wet squelch of him parting you is lewd, sinking in to the hilt, dragging back slow, returning with speed, watching your tits bounce as he lays one leg to rest over the back of the sofa, your other curling against his hard thigh. His blue eyes shine in a lustful stare, the sunlight gilding his pale skin, warm when he folds at the waist to kiss you, his mouth moving to begin sucking your nipples.
“You always look so pretty when you’re getting fucked, baby,” he groans, beginning to add speed to each deep thrust. “Now, fuckin’ moan pretty for me.”
The song of the birds chirping in the trees have nothing on the sounds he draws from you, dragging your cunt as he sits back on his heels, his gaze dropping to watch his wet cock glinting with the sheen of your arousal, moaning deep as he arrows you with force, thumb moving to rub gloriously tingling sparks at your clit.
You can feel the fire burning at the base of your spine already, glimmers searing as the pleasure skitters over you strongly, your nails grazing his abs as he fucks you in frenzy, your crest the shimmering wave and Jax the shore it crashes against as you come with a wail, his own release pumped into you seconds after, his hands gripping your waist as he begins to slow, his cock feeling amazing as it scrapes slowly against your tender, fluttering walls.
Yes. Life is good.
#jax teller#jax teller smut#jax teller fanfiction#jax teller x female reader#jax teller x you#sons of anarchy#sons of anarchy fanfiction#sons of anarchy smut#sons of anarchy imagine#sons of anarchy fanfic
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Long Run
request: Just something cute and sweet for tig with a gn reader, please? Anything, bro I'm starved.
pairing: Tig Trager x gn!reader
word count: 600+
warnings: mention of a cartel? typical club shit
a/n: I LOVVVEEEEE this man <333
Three years into your relationship with Tig, you should be more than used to long club runs. And, for the most part, you handled the separation well.
You could keep yourself busy with work, chores, and upkeep at the clubhouse with Gemma and Tara while the boys were gone but this work would only last so long.
Tiggy kept in contact as much as he could on the road with calling in between stops and in the evenings while on your drive home. There was the old "what happens on the road stays on the road" club rule, but since the beginning of your relationship Tig made a promise to be loyal to you and he'd yet to break it.
You'd known his reputation with men and women of loving and leaving them before ever getting involved with him, and so you'd made him promise.
This run is different, however.
The club made a special trip to Santo Padre on a favor to Marcus Alvares to help the local Mayans in town handle some cartel business, and before anyone knew it their one week in Santo Padre had turned into three.
It's why tonight you sat alone in the home you shared with Tig, cuddled up in blankets on his side of the bed watching old Criminal Minds reruns.
Being on his side of the bed, resting your head on the pillow seeming infused with Tig's favorite cologne (the one you'd been getting him since your first anniversary together), brought you the comfort of Tig while he was gone.
After several episodes and half a bag of popcorn later you'd finally begun to dose off when you heard it... the soft rumblings of an approaching motorcycle.
Out of habit you reached for the spare gun in the drawer of Tig's nightstand. Before him you had never shot a gun, but after the incident with Tara and Margaret being kidnapped incited Tig to teach you to defend yourself, which meant being able to use a gun if necessary.
You crept your way into the living room to peek out from behind the window curtains to see exactly who it was pulling up in your driveway.
Even though his helmet covered most of his hair, you could see Tig's small curls poking out the bottom, unruly as ever. He shuts his bike off and begins to remove his helmet and you decide you just can't take it anymore.
You abandon the gun in your hand on one of the couch end tables before heading out the door, barefoot and wearing one of Tig's shirts.
Tig raises his head when he hears the door, confused at first, but his gorgeous smile overtakes him as he realizes it's you coming for him.
You go as fast as your legs will carry you, throwing yourself against Tig's broad chest and wrapping your arms around his torso. His arms follow suit, wrapping around you and pulling you up off the ground for a moment before setting you back down, yet his arms don't release you.
"What are you doin' awake at this hour, baby?" he asks, voice muffled in your hair as he breathes you in. "You've got work tomorrow. Well, today, actually."
"Missed you," you confessed into his chest. Finally you bring yourself to pull away slightly, taking in Tig's face.
The bags under his eyes were slightly more defined than when you last saw him, but his blues sparkled down at you with excitement.
"You've been gone far too long, Tiggy," you scold playfully. "I don't think I'm letting you leave me ever again. I don't like it."
His blue eyes flicker over your face as his hands cup either side. "I don't wanna be away from you either, baby. You're everything."
Tig pulls you into a soft kiss. He never moves his hands from your face as he pulls away just slightly, resting his forehead against your own.
"Let's go inside, doll." Tig peppers kisses across your face. "I'm in desperate need of some lovin' from my baby, okay?"
"Mmm," you hum, unable to stop the smile spreading across your face. "I can't exactly say 'no' to that, can I?"
#tig x reader#tig trager#tig trager x reader#tig trager fanfiction#tig trager imagine#tig trager x you#tig trager x y/n#tig x you#sons of anarchy fanfiction#soa x reader#soa#soa x you#soa x y/n#sons of anarchy x reader#sons of anarchy imagine#sons of anarchy#tig trager fluff#tig x reader fluff#tig trager x reader fluff#gender neutral reader#gender neutral y/n#gn!reader#gn!y/n#tig x you fluff#tig trager x you fluff#soa fluff#sons of anarchy fluff
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Imagine being new to Charming and catching Jax's eye.
Because of how far and deep the tentacles of Sons of Anarchy reached, hardly anything could happen in Charming without them knowing.
And yet, there he was - staring at the Bread and Batter signboard hanging above the half-furnished shop with little to no idea what was happening. It went without saying, that being oblivious to certain changes could make or break a business in their, well, "profession".
His thoughts of "How the Hell did we miss this?" were interrupted by shuffling and a sound of struggle. Jax furrowed his eyebrows. Venturing towards the back of the little store, he expected nothing short of trouble. He wasn't one to believe in coincidences.
"Need a hand, darlin'?"
Startled, you dropped the crate with passion fruit. The blond man had a grin on his face as though there was something amusing about your red face or sweaty hair sticking to your forehead. It’s a warm day and the stock delivery felt unending.
"Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you," he said while making his way towards you. Despite the leather vest looking a little too much for the weather, Jax didn’t seem uncomfortable.
"No worries," you assured him. Feeling sweat gather at your hairline, you wiped your forehead with the back of your hand.
"So? Need some help?"
Considering how tired you already were, Jax was truly godsend.
"If it's not a problem..." you began awkwardly. You didn’t even know his name.
"It ain't."
With a polite smile on his face, Jax lifted the crate of passion fruit without much problem. You followed him inside the store but right at the treshold, he stepped aside to let you in first. As you asked him, Jax set the crate on the metal counter in the kitchen. Then, without wasting words, he was on his way for another crate of fruit.
A little awkwardly, you just stood out of his way, watching him labour away. Maybe it wasn’t the best first impression on your to-be clientele but that didn’t exactly mean the case was lost.
Around after half an hour of carrying fruit, dry ingredients and dairy, Jax was done. Slightly panting, he leaned his back against the wall, staring at you expectantly:
"Need anything else?"
"Do you think you could stay around for coffee?" you suggested. "To make up for your trouble." Although you clarified to not give Jax the wrong idea, part of you definitely wouldn’t have anything against that.
Clay is going to be pissed to Hell and back if he's late.
"Sure," he answered. Jax’s smile reappeared as his bright gaze followed you to the commercial-grade coffe machine.
#soa fanfiction#soa imagine#soa fanfic#sons of anarchy#sons of anarchy fanfiction#sons of anarchy imagine#sons of anarchy fanfic#jax teller#jax teller x reader#jax teller imagine#jax teller fanfiction#jax teller fanfic
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Maybe One Day
Chibs Telford x F!Teller!Reader
Summary: You go back to Charming 10 years after… everything.
Word Count: 2.6k
Warnings: Angsty. Mentions of death, murder, emotional distress, emotionally heavy.
SOA Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics
A/N: I wrote this on my phone so don’t mind any odd formatting or editing mistakes!
Part 2
The moment you crossed into the town line you felt the heaviness overcome you. It was like there was this smog that only existed within the miles of town, one foot outside that sign that held the town founding year and population and it was like fresh air. But currently you were being suffocated as the odometer added mile after mile as you drove deeper into Charming.
It was like looking at an old photograph, not much had changed in most parts. There was still the main street strip, some of the stores definitely were new, but the street felt the same. You noticed the lack of loud, rumbling motors, lack of two wheeled engines parked along the curb. But early on that had been how it was before Scoops turned into the new head quarters for the Sons of Anarchy. It had been 10 years since you’d been back here, so it was likely the original club stomping grounds were back in commission.
You had told yourself you weren’t going to find out if that were true but you currently were parked just outside the automotive shop to see a new black warehouse like space where the old blue one used to be. The paint didn’t look too fresh where SOA was stencilled on but it looked new enough to you as you leaned against the black cutlass.
One thing and one thing only. It was the sentence you repeated in your head over and over as you drove hours back home. Back home, that felt like a heavy statement. Charming might have been where you grew up, but it wasn’t home. Despite it being where you’ve lived most in your life, it wasn’t home. One thing and one thing only. You knew that wasn’t true every time the thought ran in your head. It was inevitable that you’d come here, that you’d stop at the rocky mounted highway where JT’s memorial was. Where the helmet and sunglasses of the other Teller still lay abandoned.
You were just supposed to grab the last few things at the house before the closing date. The realtor handled everything else, the listing pictures, the calls with interested buyers, you had hired people to straighten up and you had put mostly everything else in storage 10 years ago, but there was one thing that was still in that house that no one else could get but you.
You didn’t put the house on the market until a month ago. It was an assumption but you figured the club was going to use the house for whatever shady business or reasons, it’s why you were happy you had a confirmed buyer that first week of putting the blue house on the market. All it took was one day and one tour by your realtor before the offer came in. But that sped up your timeline. It was likely that was why you pushed this out so far, dreading the thought of coming out here and going to the kitchen drawer and grabbing that pocket notebook that you hid in the false bottom of it.
Now that notebook was weighing heavy in your back pocket but it was fitting considering the weight of the air. You saw people in TM work shirts moving around, the weight of the word Teller staring down at you even from the street. That was all Charming ever did, weigh heavy on you.
You thought of the words you repeated over and over again. One thing and one thing only. What a lie. You scoffed slightly as if the conversation you were having in your head was actually happening outloud.
A few more thoughts popped into your head, each from someone this town had an effect on. Both statements weighing heavy on you because what else would thoughts about Charming be.
The one Hale spoke to Jax when you were younger. “It wont be long before SAMCRO is just an ugly memory in the history of charming.” Something felt unsettling there, unfortunately Hale died before he could see that come to light and as you stared at the new SAMCRO compound you had to think you probably would too.
Then Wendy’s voice came to your head, “The MC, this town, it kills all the shit you love.” She was right before shit even hit the fan. Although, shit was always hitting the fan so she was just on the pulse of Charming before any one else even bothered to look. You had lost everyone to Charming—to the club. Yes, you had Abel and Thomas still, but it was different, everyone you had in your family during your young life was gone. Tara, Jax, Gemma, Opie. The list went on.
But before you could continue the list you heard a familiar voice. The voice of the one person you hadn’t technically lost to the reaper but you most certainly lost to Charming and SAMCRO.
You hated how the voice made your heart happy. You hated how it managed to make every ounce of heaviness disappear and flee to the deep depths of the town and would only surface when you were left alone. But as you heard his voice again it made you wish you never would be alone again. It made you think for the briefest of seconds that maybe you could back out of the offer, move into the house that was now in your name and create a life here. Charming was home after all.
No. No. Charming was not home. The quick rational part of your brain quickly jolted you back to reality. That weight quickly rising from the ground and pulling at your ankles as a reminder that the town’s grip would suffocate you. But there it was again, the interruption that pulled the weight off your ankles and had you feeling as light as a feather.
“Love?”
The name he called you for years, whether it was in public or when you were tangled up in the sheets felt like a breath of fresh air in this smothering town. It wasn’t a nickname solely for you, you heard him say it to many women in your years of knowing him, and he probably had a fair share of women now he used the name on.
But that didn’t stop your knees from wanting to buckle. You turned and saw him, it was ironic that in your years of hanging in this club house, at TM, you had never seen Chibs on the street in front of the club HQ. Most guys parked inside, the street parking was reserved for excess cars who were there for service and for on lookers like yourself, although they usually tended to be wearing badges.
“Mother of Christ.” His accent was thick as he lifted his sunglasses up and off his face. His feet were moving towards you.
He didn’t think twice before engulfing you in a hug. You had thought about this moment a lot, going over all the different ways it could go. In one of the scenarios you thought he’d pause immediately front of you, stare at you like a stranger. There was something so relieving that he was hugging you like the past 10 years hadn’t existed, that no matter what happened he still cared about you, was happy to see you.
“Chibs!” A voice interrupted your embrace and you wanted to murder them. Funny how being in Charming made homicide an instant thought.
Chibs pulled away and that’s when the Scottish cologne hit you, a smile filling your face as he looked back to the person in the TM lot.
“Church in 10!”
You looked at the patch on his kutte immediately at those words and saw the president patch. It sent bile to your throat, it was the patch Jax wore for years. Not figuratively, but literally. It was the exact patch he wore, some of the stains on it were likely from his time wearing it. You didn’t stay here long enough to see it sit on Chibbs’ kutte but seeing it now was transporting you back 10 years.
“Why don’t y’come int’the clubhouse darlin’, have a drink, we can talk.” He looked older, the bags under his eyes were dark and puffy. You could tell the club life was affecting him, his hair was graying way more and it made him even more attractive.
“I shouldn’t.” You shook your head and doubled down, “I can’t.”
The second two worded statement you spoke is what made Chibs understand, a nod escaping from his head.
“It’s good t’see ye’.” He was trying to keep it light, he knew how hard this was.
“I’m selling the house.” You said it so business like, it was a way to give him the heads up to let the club know. You saw some traces of them being there, not frequently but enough. Cigarette buds in the ashtrays around the furniture that was left, empty beer bottles in the recycling bin. You knew Chibs made sure whoever came by knew to clean up after.
Chibs just nodded and looked down. “Y’happy?”
How were you supposed to be happy after Charming took every last thing that you loved. You thought for a minute and the faces of your nephews flashed in your mind and you smiled.
“The boys are teenagers. I don’t know if you can be happy with teenagers.” You joked.
Chibs grinned at the mention of Thomas and Abel.
You wanted to ask him if he was happy but you were afraid of the answer. You saw what the club presidency did to the person in the role before him. You saw what it had done to the other Teller in the same position just a decade before. It made you think about JT and his legacy for a moment. You always wondered if JT was just exemplified as this great person because he wasnt alive to be rememebered for his flaws. But then you remembered Gemma and Clay and how they only remembered JT for his flaws. Your mind instantly went to Jax who had killed both Clay and Gemma, and what his legacy was. If he’d be exemplified just because he was gone and his flaws would be forgotten. Your eyes moved to the newer clubhouse and saw the small memorial that was on the roof. There was white air forces perched on the edge where Jax would very often sit and reflect. That solidified it for you, he’d be seen as Jax Teller, son of JT, president of SOA, an honor to have known and loved him for the guys who were in the club when he reigned as VP and president. But then your eyes fell back on Chibs, the hope that since he knew the flaws that essentially led to the death of your brother, he’d lead differently while still respecting his legacy in the eyes of the club.
“You rebuilt.” You pointed to the building trying to erase that long heavy thought from your mind.
“Ice cream and hookers were too distracting for the guys.” He teased in reference to Scoops and Red Woody. “You sure you don’t want to come in, love? Church won’t take long, I’ll give y’my dorm while y’wait.”
It was a convincing offer. You wanted to see what Chibs’ dorm looked like, what life was like for him. But deep down you knew you already knew what it looked like because you lived it. You lived it and you hated it. You loved him but hated the life.
“No just came to get this.” You pulled the pocket notebook out and flapped it in the air.
Chibs knew exactly what that was and nodded in understanding.
“Chibs!” The same voice called out again.
“He’ll be in in a second!” You called out, eyes still glued on the Scot in front of you.
The prospect shut up quickly and moved back inside. You wondered how he’d describe you to the members inside, there was only a handful that could potentially recognize you from description, and an even smaller handful that would come out to see for themselves.
“I wanted to give it to Abel. I think he deserves to know Jax the way Jax wanted him to.” You explained the notebook that Chibbs knew all about between the time when Jax was writing it and when you had told him where you’d put it.
“It was really good ta see y’love.”
Despite everything shitty about being back, it was true for you too. It was great seeing him. You wished you could ask him to leave, come stay with you on your humble farm, sell fresh eggs with you at the farmers market and ride dirt bikes with the boys. But it was the same reason he never asked you to stay here. Sure he might’ve asked you to come in for a drink but the words “stay in Charming” would never come from his mouth. He knew it was too painful.
He pulled you in for another hug and you didn’t want to let go. The drink wasn’t sounding half bad, you wanted to catch up, hear about what he’s up to, how he’s been, but the answers you’d want to hear would never come and the one’s you dreaded to hear would be the only one’s that filled your ears.
As you pulled out of the embrace you squeezed his arm in a way to tell him the same about seeing him without actually saying it and then you quickly turned back to your car. Chibs was walking away now, his hand reaching up to wipe the couple stray tears he’d never admit to shedding and dropping his sunglasses back down.
You called out one last time to him, an impulsive decision and impulsive thought meeting together at the tip of your tongue.
“If Abel comes here, push him out. Don’t welcome him in.”
Chibs was frozen at the request and then he nodded in understanding.
“I’ll send ‘em right back to th’farm so his auntie can talk some sense into ‘em.” It was a humorous statement but it gave you relief because Chibs wouldn’t lie to you.
“You can tell him about Jax. The Jax you knew. The Jax we wanted him to be.”
It was just like you to have the most mundane small talk conversation at close range where whispers could be exchanged and this important one where voices carried.
“I won’t.” At first you thought he misheard you and you were going to correct him when he spoke up. “If he’s anything like his ol’ man, he’ll want to become the man we wanted him to be, and we’ve already seen how that plays out.”
You thought it was impossible to feel seen in Charming. To feel heard. You thought it was impossible for someone in the club to speak this way about it. About past members. It was probably one of the many things about Chibs that made you love him, his honesty, his care for the Teller family. It gave you a little hope.
“There’s always room for you at the farm.” You said as Chibs was walking backwards. Getting closer to the club but still staring in your direction. You saw the curly haired man appear from the clubhouse building, about to call Chibs’ name when he spotted you. You knew he’d hear the prospect talk and be outside to see for himself, using Chibs as the excuse.
Your hand raised and waved at Tig like you had just seen him yesterday. He immediately raised his hand waved and you heard his laugh crystal clear from where you were and stared back at Chibs for a response to your invitation.
“Maybe one day, love. Maybe one day.”
Part 2
#SOA#soa fanfiction#soa fanfic#filip telford#filip telford x reader#Sons of anarchy#sons of anarchy fanfic#sons of anarchy fanfiction#chibs telford#chibs x reader#chibs telford fanfiction
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Nowhere To Be
Opie Winston x F!Reader
For one of my favorite people, @justreblogginfics with the prompt: The party was great but now it’s time to find their way home, in the middle of the night in the freezing cold in high heels and a party dress.
For @storiesofsvu Holiday Bingo 2023 prompt: New Years
Warnings: 18+, language, implied/referenced smut, pining
Word Count: 1.8k
A/N: I have missed Opie so much, so thank you for giving me the inspo and the opportunity to write this fun little somethin' for him! Happy New Year! 🥰💖
SOA Taglist: @espieviolet99 @littlekittymeow @i-just-read-stuff @fuckyeahopie @withmyteeth @buckybarneshairpullingkink @paintballkid711 @jitterbugs927 @fanfic-n-tabulous @mijagif @frattsparty @choochoo284 @artemiseamoon @darqchilddaydreamz @nessamc @garbinge @winchestershiresauce (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)
“It is cold in California!” you said, exasperated.
Opie chuckled as he stood beside you. Part of him wanted to make a comment about the fact that you knew that, that you’d grown up in Charming just like him. Sure, you’d been on the East Coast for a few years but it wasn’t nearly long enough to wipe your memory clean of it. Plus, you’d been back in Cali long enough to have not made this mistake—you were just too tempted by the idea of a party and getting dressed up and going out.
He wanted to say all of that, could have, but instead he just said, “Yeah, it is.”
Turning to face him, you huffed out a sigh. “Why is it cold in California? I thought it was supposed to be all beaches and sunshine here.”
“You probably wouldn’t be so cold if you didn’t—”
“I look good,” you cut him off, knowing exactly where his sentence was going. “That’s not the issue here.”
“I mean,” he shifted so that he was pressed closer to you, his fingertips dragging up the side of your leg that was left exposed by the short dress that you’d worn to the party, “this feels like it might be part of the issue.”
You rolled your eyes, glad that you could say the goosebumps breaking out over your skin were because of the cold and not because of the feelings and thoughts that were coursing through you at just the slightest touch. Despite your initial impulse, you swatted his hand away.
“You didn’t seem to think it was much of an issue about an hour ago when we snuck off to the bathroom and—”
“Alright,” it was his turn to cut you off, chuckling as he did so.
He shrugged off his leather jacket, one of the million layers he always seemed to be wearing whether it was the first day of January or the last day of July. He held it out for you to take and for as much as you liked giving him a hard time, you weren’t quite committed enough to that endeavor to turn down the opportunity for some extra warmth. You snatched it out of his hand and slipped your arms into the sleeves, feeling relief not just because you immediately felt warmer, but also because the jacket smelled like him and there was comfort to be had in that too.
“Thank you,” you said, leaning into him, hands pressed against his chest.
He smiled. “Welcome.”
You tilted your head just a little farther back so that you could get a better look at him. He had one arm draped around your waist, hand resting on the small of your back. His other hand was placed on your hip, not holding you too tightly but it also would’ve taken some effort if you really wanted to pry yourself away. Not that you had any interest in that.
“Can I tell you something?” you asked.
He scanned your face for a moment, wishing that he had any idea at all where your next sentence was going to go. He knew what he wanted you to say next, but he also knew better than to hold his breath over it. Plus it was New Year’s Eve, or rather New Year’s Day by hardly an hour. And you were drunk not just off the alcohol you’d both had all night but also from the energy of the party. He knew better than to get his hopes up, and yet.
“Confessing crimes already? Year just started,” he joked.
You laughed and shook your head. “No, no crimes.” You leaned a little more onto him, taking the weight off one of your feet. “Ugh, these heels are killing me. I can’t even think.”
“Yeah, I don’t think that’s why you can’t think.”
You laughed, giving him a playful shove. “Shut up.”
“What’d you wanna—”
You cut him off, not meaning to, but you were already moving onto the next thing. “We gotta get back to the hotel. Because if I have to stay in these shoes any longer, I’m gonna,” you laughed, “then I’m gonna commit some crimes to confess to.”
He chuckled. “You remember how to get back?”
You turned and looked at him. You tried to hold in your laughter and failed. “No.”
He wanted to be annoyed but he had sort of seen it coming. It wasn’t surprising, to say the least. “This was your idea,” he teased as you pulled out your phone.
You waved him off. “Going out was so much easier before.”
“Yeah? Why’s that?”
You looked up from the GPS on your phone for a moment so that you could look him in the eye. Keeping your tone and facial expression as serious as ever, you said, “Because all the streets in New York are fuckin’ numbered, Ope.”
The statement hung in the air for a second between the two of you before you both started laughing. Opie shook his head at you, knowing that if it had been anyone else he would’ve left them to their own devices awhile ago. But it was you. He wasn’t going anywhere if it was you.
By the time you got yourself somewhat back under control, your GPS had loaded directions for how to walk back to your hotel. Lucky for you, it wasn’t as far away as you thought that it was going to be.
“I got it,” you said as you showed him your phone.
“Let me see that,” he replied, reaching to take the phone from your hand.
You swatted him away. “Hands off! You don’t think I know how to get us back?”
He raised his eyebrows slightly. “You want my real answer to that?”
You rolled your eyes. “I know how to follow a map.”
He shook his head, reaching for your phone again. “You don’t even look like you know how to follow a sidewalk right now.”
You gestured angrily at your heels. “That’s because of these shoes. Honestly, you might just have to carry me back.”
He chuckled, following behind you as you set off down the sidewalk in the direction your map was telling you to. “Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah.” You looked over your shoulder at him. “That, or you can just drag me behind you like a caveman.”
He fell into stride next to you. Draping his arm over your shoulders, he said, “That sounds more like me.”
“Yeah, goes with the caveman beard you’ve got going on now,” you joked, reaching and toying with the ends of his beard for a moment. It was so much longer than it had been the last time you were home. Jury was still out on how you really felt about it—it took away the last of his baby-face.
He shook his head, knowing that you were always going to come up with something to give him grief about. Of the many things that had changed over the years, that was something about you that had remained constant. Infuriating and amusing all at once. He let you have that.
“Stick around long enough and you’ll get used to it,” he finally said.
“I told you,” you leaned deeper into his side for emphasis, “I’m back for good.”
He liked the sound of that, but he knew better than to buy too heavily into it. He pressed a quick kiss to the side of your head. “We’ll see.”
“Where else am I gonna go?” you asked, your mock offense not landing the way it should’ve when you were nearly tripping on the gaps in the sidewalk concrete.
He steadied you without having to give it a second thought. “Don’t know.” He chuckled. “Right now I don’t even think you’re gonna get us back to the hotel.”
You gave him a shove, not enough to really make any difference. Even on your best day in much steadier shoes it would be difficult to get him to move if he didn’t want to. All the Winston’s were like that. Your half-attempt only served to make him pull you tighter into him, which worked better for you anyway.
His hand was still resting on your shoulder, fingers pressing into the leather of his jacket that was yours for the present moment. Like it was a reflex, you reached up with your free hand and threaded your fingers with his as the two of you walked. You gave his hand a light squeeze as the two of you reached the end of the block. You gave him no warning that the two of you were turning rather than continuing forward and using the crosswalk. You knew it, too, laughing as you made a sharp right turn and pulled him with you.
You were lucky enough to catch him mid-stride, knocking him just enough off-kilter to make him follow your lead. You hadn’t been expecting it to work, and you nearly stumbled and fell in the process. Laughing, you took another half-balanced step until you felt your back rest against the side of the brick building behind you. Opie had followed your steps, his palm bracing against the wall beside your head, one leg positioned between both of yours. Your shoulders shook as you tried to hold in your laughter, your face heating up so much you were certain that if Opie touched you, he’d be able to feel it.
You placed your palm against his chest. There were words caught in the back of your throat, things that you wanted to say, things you’d been wanting to say all night, but you couldn’t get them out. You opened your mouth, hoping that would force them out, but all that came out instead was laughter that faded into a hum as you tried to get yourself under control.
When you finally resigned yourself to not being able to say anything, you slid your hand up from his chest so that it was on the back of his neck. You pulled him down into a kiss, one that he gave into easily and eagerly, pinning you between him and the wall behind you, his hand that wasn’t bracing him against the wall gripping tightly onto your hip.
His hand slid down from your hip onto your thigh, and he was about to start sliding it right back up and underneath the thin fabric of your dress. You could feel it in his movements, the way that he had to convince himself to stop. You couldn’t help but to smile into your kiss, eventually letting the laughter bubble over when he pulled his lips off of yours.
Your body was still pinned, not that you had any desire to really be anywhere else in that moment. You let your hand stray from the back of his neck. Your fingertips ghosted along his cheek, brushing along the edge of his beard. Maybe it wasn’t so bad.
“Never gonna make it back at this rate,” Opie finally spoke up, not that he really seemed like he was in any great rush to go.
You laughed, head resting back against the wall behind you. “Got somewhere else you need to be?”
He smiled, shaking his head before snagging another kiss from you. “No. I got nowhere to be.”
#storiesofsvuholidaybingo2023#sons of anarchy#soa#soa fanfiction#sons of anarchy fanfiction#opie winston#opie winston fanfiction#opie winston x reader#opie winston x you#x reader#x reader fic#my writing#fanfiction#drabblesmc
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The Last to Know
Chibs Telford x f!reader
Part 2 of Very Soon, a continuation of the Chibs x reader origin story💕
Warnings: S M U T minors buzz off, marijuana use, mentions of alcohol, choking, slight dom/sub (but only a little), size kink, praise kink
Check out my masterlist for more Chibby content and follow #kdogreads to keep up with my self-indulgence 😉
It had been a few months since you first kissed Filip Telford and your life had flipped itself upside down in that time. Not in a bad way, necessarily, but in a way that changed the way you spent every moment of your time.
Your life started dividing itself as before Chibs and after Chibs, like the damn second coming of Christ. After a 12-hour shift on your feet at St. Thomas, before Chibs, you’d go home and crash, sometimes not even making it your bed and sleeping on the couch for the night. After Chibs, though, you’d head straight over to the clubhouse, a change of clothes already there waiting for you, and a wave of energy somehow surging through your veins at the anticipation of seeing your man.
Tonight was one of those nights, fresh off an 11a to 11p shift and straight to the clubhouse. As you pulled into TM the sounds of a raging party filled your ears and you could see groups people standing around smoking, drinking, and dancing.
You made your way into the sea of leather, smiling and nodding at those who recognized you. It was Tig who greeted you first.
“Hey, sweetheart. How you doin’?” He gave you a warm embrace and a kiss on the cheek, his breath smelled of cheap whiskey and weed, but it brought a smile to your face.
“Ready to party, Tiggy,” You wiggled your eyebrows at him, and he laughed his signature goofy laugh before pointing back towards the dorms where Chibs must have been waiting for you. You leaned in to peck him back on the cheek before heading that way.
Making your way to the dorm you’d spent many nights in, you passed Clay, Piney, Bobby, Gemma and several of the other guys who gave you smiles and wolf whistles. You did a silly little spin for them and were met with cheers and encouragements to “Give it to him!” Laughs echoed through the room as you rounded the corner to find your man.
Turning the knob and entering the dimly lit room, your eyes stumbled onto Filip seated at the small desk inside rolling a joint.
“Party’s out there, handsome,” You walked over and wrapped your arms around his shoulders.
“Aye, but I’ve been waitin’ for my date ‘fore I make an appearance,” He joked and kissed your hands.
“I’m sorry, baby, last minute code kept me over,” You plead with a fake pout on your face.
“Ah, lass, I couldna be mad at you if I tried,” He turned in your arms to give you a long, sweet kiss.
You hummed in response, your lips melting happily into his for a long moment before pulling away to change out of your work clothes. Filip turned back to continue rolling a second joint, lighting one up after admiring his work.
It was only once you’d stripped down to just your bra and panties that Filip stood up and stepped towards you, bringing the burning joint to your lips. You took a long drag and felt only a slight sting. Filip always brought the good stuff out for you.
He took one step further into your space, reaching over your shoulder to stub the joint out on the dresser behind you and letting his rough hands glide down your bare skin. You shivered as he gripped one of your hips tightly and drew absent-minded circles on your lower back with the other. His lips danced from a sweet kiss on your forehead, your nose, your cheek before landing on your neck. God, the things he could do to you with such little effort.
“Baby,” You whine as best as you can, trying not to get lost in his kisses, “I’m sweaty and gross. Let me shower.”
Your words did little to slow him down as his free hand worked it’s way over the curve of your ass and squeezed hard. His thick fingers close enough to your aching heat to make a gasp escape your lips.
You tried whining his name this time, still feeling self-conscious about your post-work condition.
“I,” kiss, “dinna,” kiss, “care,” kiss, “lass,” kiss.
The way he punctuated each word with a wet, sloppy kiss to your neck and chest pushed every ounce of embarrassment out of your mind. You couldn’t help but stare at his beautiful lips as he made his way down your body, pausing only once he landed at the very top hem of your panties. He looked up at you once more for permission. You nodded and gripped his shoulder to keep from tumbling over as he jerked the lacy fabric down your legs all the way to your feet.
Filip couldn’t hold himself back once he was face-to-face with your glistening folds. A groan tumbled out of his chest as he threw one of your legs over his shoulder and nearly dove into you. Your back hit the dresser behind you with a thud and knocked a few things down onto the ground with a crash.
Neither of you could have been pulled out of this desire-fueled trance for anything. Anything.
Filip’s skilled tongue worked it’s way through your folds and over your pulsing clit. You cried out when he flicked his hot tongue over the bundle of nerves just right and sent your thighs squeezing together.
With a grunt he yanked them apart again and slapped one thigh sharply. A warning not to do that again.
You felt the familiar pressure building deep in your belly right as Filip slid a thick finger into your weeping hole, curling it just the way you needed. It was only a few more flicks of his tongue until you fell apart. A broken string of curse words falling from your lips as the white hotness of the intense orgasm washed over you. He worked you through your high — not stopping until you a trembling mess, panting and clawing at his hair to drag his face back up to yours.
He stood up, holding tightly onto your reeling body, and met your gaze. A devilish smirk spread across his glistening lips as he reached down to grab your shaking thighs and pick you up.
Your eyes fell shut as he laid you gently onto the dark cotton sheets of his bed. You felt him pull back swiftly to pull his shirt over his head and step out of his straining jeans.
“My poor girl,” He cooed in that quiet tone you’d come to love, “Fucked dumb already, hm?”
Your eyes snapped open at his teasing and you were met with a dark look of lust in his eyes. It only spurred you on and sent a new wave of heat straight down to your core.
“Not even close, Telford,” You spat back, quickly sliding a hand between you and grasping his hard cock in a firm hold.
“Aye, ah,” You began stroking him though his boxers, a grunt escaping his lips as he tried to keep his composure, “I see not, lass.”
He leaned in close to kiss you and you took your shot, yanking Filip’s body down beside you, allowing you the room to climb on top of him and straddle his aching cock.
An amused grin spread across his face as you leaned in to leave wet kisses on his neck and chest, lewd noises spilling from his lips all the while. You slowly made your way down his body, kisses turning into love bites here and there.
He lifted his hips slightly to begin to tug his boxers off when an idea popped into your head and out of your mouth before you had the chance to second guess it.
One of your hands gripped his wrist while the other wrapped around Filip’s throat, your slender fingers doing their best to squeeze even a little bit.
“I’ll see to that, love,” You purred into his ear, an excited mumble tumbling out of his mouth. He grinned at you a moment longer, this new side of you driving him wild.
You used all your effort to give his wrist and his neck an extra squeeze, showing him you meant business.
“Yes ma’am,” He growls, his free hand coming up in surrender. You loosened your grip on him and sat up straight, his hard cock pressing deliciously into your aching core.
You reached around your back to unhook your black lacy bra and slide it off, Filip’s mouth opening at the sight your taut nipples. He reached up to take of your mesmerizing peaks into his grasp, but you smacked his hand away, not yet done with your little game.
A sharp, “uh-uh” came from your lips and Filip groaned in frustration, but slides his hands away like you said.
Using your teeth for the first few inches, you peeled his black boxers down his thighs, slowly at first. His throbbing cock sprung free, the swollen tip already leaking an inviting drop of precum. The sight made your mouth water and you decided to stop the teasing.
You yanked them the rest of the way down and discarded them on the floor with your clothes. You wasted no time licking a long stripe down Filip’s cock then taking his head between your lips.
A deep grown rumbled out of his chest as you wrapped your lips around him and took as much as you could into your mouth, your hand making up for what your throat couldn’t reach.
Before long, Filip tangled his fingers into your hair and guided your movements, his willpower no longer strong enough to keep his hands off you. Your head bobbed up and down at a leisurely pace, Filip’s cock gagging you when he pushed your head all the way down. He relaxed his grip and you released his head with a pop before licking your lips and smiling up at him.
He furrowed his brow slightly before his hand swung from your hair down to your neck, pulling you up by the throat to his face.
You whined as he took your lips in his, sucking your bottom lip out in your favorite way. You felt his swollen tip swirling around your dripping hole.
“You had your fun, kitten,” He growled into your lips, his head sliding into your center, “Now I’ll have mine.”
You gasped as he sank all the way into your tight hole, he held you there a moment before he pulled back out and slammed into you again.
Your mind spun as he plowed into you over and over, one hand on your hip lifting your tired body up, the other sliding down from your throat and straight to a hard nipple that he rolled between his fingers.
The familiar pressure built deep in your tummy as Filip held your hips firmly against his and worked your core forwards and back. The friction against your clit and the way his cock felt nudging against the deepest parts of your velvety walls drew your release closer and closer.
“So, fuck, so fuckin’ big, Filip,” You panted nonsensically, a mind-fogging pleasure taking over your senses, “Please—please, baby, don’t stop, ah!”
A slew of groans that sounded almost pained spilled from Filip’s mouth as your release flooded through your veins. You fell into his strong arms as he kept pounding into you, your core fluttering around his throbbing cock. Your eyes practically rolled into the back of your head as Filip growled into your ear, prolonging your rolling pleasure.
“Tha’s it, pretty girl. Cummin’ all over my cock like a filthy whore,” His accent grew even stronger as he tried desperately to hold back his own release, still rutting his hips into yours as pleasant aftershocks coursed through your body, “My good lass, takin’ what I give ye.”
You had barely a moment to recover before Filip was flipping you over and throwing one your legs over his shoulder, sliding his aching cock back into your dripping hole.
Not yet satisfied, even with your blissed-out face contorting in over-sensitive and mind-numbing pleasure, Filip reached down to the place where your bodies connected and brushed this thumb roughly against your clit.
A sharp hiss escaped your parted lips, “F-Filip I ca-n’t, s’too much.”
“Shh, lass, jus’ one more,” He continued the bruising pace of his cock sliding in and out of you, fingers circling quickly over your throbbing clit, “Let me fuckin’ feel you one more time.”
It hit you like a fucking train out of nowhere, a muffled scream fell from your lips as the all-consuming pleasure invaded your senses. Your thighs shook against Filip’s hips as your fingers clawed at his broad chest, desperate for something to ground you.
Filip’s head fell back, his lips parted as his own release rushed through his body. Hot ropes of his cum flooded your pulsing walls as he slurred out a string of curses and praises.
“Fuckin’ love this tight fucking pussy; my good lass, fuck-fuckin’ gorgeous when ye cum on m’cock like tha’.”
Your eyes met as you both started coming down from the high. You reached for Filip’s face and pulled him down to kiss you, hissing into his mouth as he pulled out of you slowly and placed two fingers on your tired pussy, anxiously wanting to feel his seed weeping out of you.
You gasped at the contact and bucked your hips into his thick fingers. He huffed a laugh onto your connected lips and withdrew his wet fingers from you, bringing them up to your lips and pressing softly into your mouth.
Both of you laughed lowly as he rolled off of you and pulled you into his still-pounding chest. He kissed your forehead as you snuggled into his embrace.
“We’re awfully good at tha’, huh lass?” A soft laugh rumbling from his chest.
You laughed sweetly as looked up at him, “Yeah, yes we are.”
It was a brief moment of peace, wrapped up in each other’s arms and post-sex bliss before a pounding fist at the door interrupted your rest.
“Chibby! Dove! Wrap it up. Need ya’s out here,” A booming voice followed the knock. You couldn’t make out who it was but, based on the angry Gaelic phrase Filip spat back, he must have known right away.
“Boys got into it, bleedin’ all about the place,” The voice boomed back and Filip let out a groan.
The knock returned briefly before Filip was shouting back, “Christ, two minutes for me to put my cock away!”
You let out a chuckle as the the floor squeaked outside, granting you the moment you needed to put yourselves back together.
“Always something, hm?” You quipped as Filip stood and gathered his clothes before tossing you some shorts and one of his t-shirts.
“Aye, always somethin’ to shite on our day,” He groaned and brushed his fingers through his hair.
You took a moment to stretch while Filip already had his hand on the door knob, ready to handle whatever was awaiting him outside. Before he could open it, a thought popped into your mind.
“Filip?” You sat up a bit, “Am I your old lady?”
He laughed lovingly before stepping back over to your side.
“Seems yer the last to know, love,” He smiled and placed a tender kiss to your lips before turning back towards the door and heading out into the madness.
Oh boy, you are in trouble.
#kdogreads#chibs telford x reader#chibs telford#chibs imagine#chibs x reader#chibs telford smut#chibs smut#soa chibs#chibs telford fanfiction#chibs fluff#chibs telford imagine#chibs sons of anarchy#chibs#sons of anarchy#sons of anarchy fanfiction#soa
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𝐌𝐢𝐝𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 🍫🌃
here's another soft happy fic, i hope you enjoy x
🍫 comments, likes and reblogs are highly appreciated 🍫
You sneak into the kitchen at 1AM, wearing nothing but Happy's SAMCRO shirt, craving something sweet to eat. The club is under lockdown, and snacks are limited.
“What time is it?” Happy mumbles, rubbing at his sleepy eyes as he leans against the door frame.
“Go back to bed, babe,” you whisper in response. “I'm just looking for some snacks.”
He grumbles before walking back to his dorm. Snacks are nowhere to be found, so you follow behind him. It's not until you're fully comfortable that he remembers.
“There's a box of candy underneath the bed.”
You leap into action.
#sons of anarchy#mayans mc#happy lowman#david labrava#soa#fanfiction#drabbles#fanfic#happy lowman x reader#happy lowman fanfiction#happy lowman imagines#sonsofanarchy#soa fanfiction#soa happy#soa imagine#sons of anarchy fanfiction#sons of anarchy imagine#sons of anarchy imagines
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Good Evening
prompt: after a hard day with SAMCRO, Chibs could really use a shower, a dinner and your presence. Nothing else but a sweet evening with his s/o.
gender neutral!reader, third pov, Chibs & reader are a couple, reader is friend with Sons of Anarchy, 820 words
warnings: mention of blood, mc’s activites, nudity, smoking, drinking (wine) allusion of sexual activity, age gap, physical touch (romantic way)
a/n: small fluffy imagine with Chibs just bc I love him; don’t hesitate to send request for every character you want (:
masterlist - inbox
“Babe I’m home,” you heard Chibs’ voice across the small apartment you two shared. You got up from your bed you were sitting on and you came to meet a slightly bloody Chibs. “Not mine,” he just whispered as he saw you looking at him.
“You wanna talk ‘bout it?” you simply asked while you both were heading to the bathroom.
“Nope. Right now I want you and me in the shower,” he replied with a grin, which made you laugh.
“You never stop,” you said and he shook his head.
“Never, babe.”
Chibs kissed you, already undressing himself. You did the same, and the both of you went under the hot water. You were used to Chibs’ activities with the Sons of Anarchy. In fact, you were used to the charter’s activities. So when Chibs would returned at home all bloody after a day, you would not freaked out or complained. You would always stayed there for him if he wanted to talk, but you would never pushed him, only doing whatever the two of you wanted to enjoy your evenings.
After your shower Chibs was only wearing a towel around his hips while you were already wearing your pyjamas.
“What d’you want for dinner?” you asked him.
“Ye,” he replied, a crooked grin on his lips.
“Again? You sure you can handle that many rounds?” you were only playing with him, of course.
“Love, I migh’ be more than 15 years older than ya but I still can show ya who’s the boss here.”
He gave you a kiss and a small slap on one of your butt cheek, making you laugh.
“To be honest I’ll eat whatever’s left in the fridge and the cupboards. I think ya’ll need to run some errands tomorrow if it’s alright for ya.”
“Yeah no prob’ I’ll do it.”
You smiled softly, already busy finding what to cook. You knew Chibs could also cook, but sometimes you just like being the one cooking. While you were busy making dinner, Chibs would usually set the table and poured a glass of wine for the both of you, the smell of his smoke blending with the smell of the food.
After having put some sweat pants on, Filip returned in the kitchen, dinner almost ready. You didn’t do anything fancy, only spaghetti, but that was always great for him after a day working with the club. You put the plate before him as he was turning the tv on. You sat next to him and he gave you your glass of wine.
“What d’ya wanna watch?” Chibs asked.
“Let’s watch Pride and Prejudice!” you immediately replied.
“Again? Isn’t it like the third time in two month we watch it?”
“Yeah but I love it,” you said with big pleading eyes.
“‘kay but next time I’m the one choosin’ the movie.”
You smiled and went to put the dvd in the player.
It was your little habit. Just you two and a movie night, relaxing together. Of course Chibs loved to spend the night at the clubhouse but sometimes he was better alone with you than with the club. And sometimes he also loved having you around at the clubhouse. It all depended on his moods, yours, the day you both had. And right now, spending some time with your loved one, felt like the perfect evening.
“Aye, can’t get enough of that movie, can ye?” Filip put an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him as the movie just finished.
“I’m sure you love it too,” you joked.
“Kinda have too, after havin’ watch it that many times.”
Chibs laughed then kissed you and you went deeper in his embrace. You smelt his cologne mixed with the smoke and you felt at home.
He let a hand running through your hair and you stared at the paused screen in front of you. The black background was letting you see yourself in Chibs’ arms. You also could see his disturbed face and look.
“What’s going through that head of yours?” you asked, brushing his cheek with your nose.
“Too many things, babe. Don’t wanna upset ya with the club’s shit.” He kissed your forehead. “Jax’s a good president, I trust him enough.”
You nodded and kissed his cheeks. He lit a cigarette and you looked at him, only to meet his gaze on you.
“What?” you asked.
“Nothin’. Ye’re cute. What if we go to bed?” Chibs asked, a small and soft smile on his lips. You agreed and you both put an end – in your bedroom – to another crazy day.
You knew a small evening with you in his arms could make Chibs’ day better, so that’s what you did tonight. With him, you never felt the need to ask him about his day or about the club’s activities because he was the one to talk to you when he needed to.
#sons of anarchy#soa#chibs sons of anarchy#soa chibs#chibs telford#chibs x reader#chibs x you#chibs imagine#sons of anarchy imagine#soa imagines#chibs fanfiction#soa fanfiction#sons of anarchy fanfiction#filip telford#filip chibs telford#soa x reader#sons of anarchy x reader#soa x you#sons of anarchy x you#domestic fluff#fluffy imagine#gender neutral!reader#gender neutral y/n#gender neutral fanfic#gender neutral reader#soft fanfic#soft chibs telford#tommy flanagan#chibs telford x reader#filip telford x reader
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Death and the Lady: Chibs Telford x Reader
An idea I've been tossing around in my head. Might continue it if anyone is interested in more.
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The plan to pull any forensics team from Lodi heading to the Sons burnt warehouse and the two dead bodies in the cellar of said warehouse was a bold one. Jax was proud of himself for coming up with a creative solution that would require no spilt blood.
He spoke quick to present his plan to his uncertain brothers. “Look, all we need for a murder is bodies and a crime scene.”
Chibs was fast to speak, not quite getting how this was any different from the prior plan they’d had to just kill some Nords and attract the attention of Lodi’s forensics team. "Ya lost me Jackie."
Jax replied the answer was so obvious. “Skeeter, guy’s got more gambling debt than he can handle. I’ll make it worth his while.”
“The cemetery guy?” Bobby questioned doubt clear in his voice.
Jax nodded his head sure of his plan. “Yeah, I give Lodi a front-page murder and we don’t stir up another shit-storm that might bite us in the ass.”
He cringed the second the words left his lips. There was only one issue that might screw up the plan. Skeeter the Sons connection to access to Charming’s nearest crematorium and one of its oldest funeral homes wasn’t in town at the moment.
“Shit.” the statement left him.
Tig groaned, not entirely thrilled that the plan was being shifted away from his original idea or just straight up murdering some Nord or some other scumbag. “What?”
Jax cringed again, hating to admit that there was a wrench in the plan. “I just remembered, Skeeter’s not in town.”
Tig stood up again ready to jump into action on the original plan. “Alright, that settles it. We stick to my plan.”
Jax spoke again, raising his voice as another solution entered his mind. “Y/N.”
Clay furrowed his brow, the name somewhat familiar though it had been years. “She's back in town?”
Jax ran a hand through his hair, a sigh leaving him. “Yeah, she’s taken over the family business apparently. She’s back. Been back for a few months now.”
Chibs frowned totally lost on just who this Y/N was that everyone but him seemed so familiar with.
He continued to follow the conversation, his interests peaking further as Jax spoke again. “I don’t know…she’s cleaned up her act apparently. She’s worth a shot though. She’s got enough history with the club. I don’t think she’s cleaned up enough to go running her mouth if we approach her with this.”
Clay shook his head at this news not missing a chance to push back against the idea that she’d be totally useless to them. “Money talks, clean act or not. You make contact with her, get this plan on the road. Who knows, she might come in handy in the future, if she’s down to accept our gifts in exchange for a few favors. Might be smart to have a funeral director readily available. Who knows just what she has access to. From what I’ve heard her father left some debt behind and we all know her brother is off in the county nuthouse. She might be willing to play ball if we offer her some incentive to chip away at that debt.”
Chibs furrowed his brow all the further having to wonder just who this Y/N character was aside from a funeral director that his brothers all seemed to have some familiarity with.
Chibs had been patched over in Charming for about a decade now, surely he would remember some funeral director that had some sort of wild streak that his brothers all seemed to remember?
He mulled over the thought as the club proceeded to discuss their plans.
He wasn’t the only one mulling over the change in plan. Jax felt his stomach twist uncertain if Y/N would be as willing to help out debt or not.
He’d heard the gossip around town and it all seemed to indicate that little miss Y/N had turned over a new leaf and had really matured from the twenty year old girl who’d been sent away by her father years before.
Jax rubbed the back of his neck, his stomach churning at the path that lay ahead of them.
Y/N Y/L/N was no Skeeter, but she would work in a bind.
He just hoped she was not as on the straightened arrow as it appeared.
—---------------------------------------------------
The cemetery in Charming was actually quite massive despite the smaller town. Generations upon generations had been buried on the land. On the property sat a crematorium that was used by the few funeral homes in Charming as well as a chapel where services might be held.
One of the funeral homes that often used the on sight crematorium was Y/L/N and Sons Funeral Home.
Ironically enough, there weren’t any sons in the business…at least not anymore.
Y/N Y/L/N had taken up the mantle of her father’s business. The funeral business was something she’d fought against for so long.
She had resented it in a way. She resented being known as the creepy kid in school because her father buried the dead. She resented the expectation that she would follow in her father’s business once her brother had clearly proven he just wasn’t stable enough. She’d resented the fact that even though she was expected to follow this path that the And Sons part of the name wouldn’t be dropped.
She had rebelled and she’d rebelled hard. Charming’s local MC had given her an environment to indulge in that rebellion. She had used the environment to cope with her personal issues and heartbreaks. She’d barely been legal the first time she’d visited the Sons clubhouse and during each visit after that she’d allowed herself to fall into the chaos of a Friday night party.
A few years of her life had been dedicated to that chaos until she’d hit rock bottom. Drinking and associating with Charming’s criminal element had been fun, until it had not been so much fun.
Her father had given her an out and she’d taken in traveling east to start anew. She’d tried to find a life outside of death, but she’d found within a few years that she did have a genuine respect for the family business.
It was all she’d ever known and she’d decided to follow her father’s footsteps on her own terms. She’d enrolled in mortuary school out east and had found work upon gaining her license.
She’d assumed she’d finally escaped both Charming and her past.
The past had a way of biting you in the ass though. She’d learned that the hard way.
The family business had been left to her and though she wanted nothing more than to remain out east she’d realized that the family business wasn’t the only thing she’d inherited from her father.
Debts and her brother were now her responsibility. So, Y/N had traveled back west, back to Charming.
She should have known the MC would come knocking eventually. Her past associates would eventually realize she was back in town.
So, it should have been no shock with the crematorium doors swung open at least one familiar face walking in the door.
She turned from the cremains she’d been sifting through the thick rubber gloves she wore making her hands feel damp with sweat.
Chibs Telford wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but the pretty young woman standing by a flaming cremator wasn’t at all what he’d pictured when he heard the words funeral director.
She was not dressed all in black the way he’d been picturing. To be honest he’d imagined some stuck up and possibly even creepy looking woman in a black pantsuit.
The pretty woman standing by the cremator was wearing dark wash blue jeans of all things and a black tank top. Her brow was somewhat damp with perspiration from the heat of the crematorium. Chibs took notice of the bead of sweat that traveled down her neck disappearing between the valley of ample cleavage the sight sending a jolt of lust through him. She had a nice figure; attractive curves that were complimented by the tight fit of her jeans. Her long hair was piled on top of her head fastened with a clip in an attempt to deal with the heat. He furrowed his brow as he spotted a pair of baby pink converse sneakers on her feet.
She was less Morticia Adams than he’d been anticipating. She looked more like she should be hanging out at a farmers market or maybe having ice cream at one of the mom and pop parlors on Main Street.
The pretty woman he’d been so unabashedly admiring finally spoke a sigh leaving her lips. She looking none too pleased by her guests. “Jackson.”
Chibs felt his heart lift the soft sweetness of her voice not what he'd been expecting at all even if she didn't sound happy.
“Hey, darlin, long time no see.” Jax replied always the flirt even when on business.
Chibs frowned a small part of him, somewhat certain he didn’t like the clear undertone of a history between his brother and this young woman. He pushed back the thought knowing it was ridiculous.
Y/N sighed, shaking her head, her eyes studying the friends Jackson Teller had brought along. She didn’t recognize a single face other than Jax Teller’s. Though she guessed it shouldn’t be too much of a shock. She’d been away for so long.
She didn’t study her company for long, a sigh leaving her. “I’m assuming this isn’t a social call.”
Jax gave her a small sheepish smile. “Not entirely.”
“Skeeter’s not around, I’m afraid. He’s out of town, hopefully not at the racetrack.” She remarked a small frown crossing her features at the thought of her father’s associate.
Although she didn’t approve of Skeeter’s conduct at times, she knew he’d been a loyal employee to her father. He was now her loyal employee. She appreciated that loyalty despite his habits.
That loyalty hadn’t stopped him from associating with the Sons of course, but who was she to judge given her own past.
“They really cremate bodies here?” Half Sack spoke getting close to the cremator gazing within the flames.
“Aye an sometimes we do.” Chibs spat out smacking the prospect in the back of the head before yanking him from the machinery.
Y/N raised an eyebrow, the thick Scottish brogue not entirely expected. She gazed at the owner of the accent unable to place him anywhere in her memories.
She knew her memories from that time in her life might be somewhat hazy, but she was sure she’d remember a Scottish accent in the middle of northern California.
She was certain she’d remember the man standing in front of her from the accent alone. She felt her stomach churn noticing the deep scars embedded into his cheeks. If she hadn’t remembered the accent then she definitely would have remembered the scars.
He gazed back at her his sunglasses dropping slightly, his dark eyes gazing at her, the action giving her an unexpected reaction.
She frowned, not entirely amused at the mixture of lust and curiosity that stirred up in her under his gaze.
She wasn’t that girl anymore, a voice in the back of her head scolded her. She’d grown up and changed. It had been almost ten years and she was a new person, a better person. She was no longer the biker groupie.
Jax stepped forward, breaking the spell that had seemed to wash over both Chibs and Y/N without anyone around them really taking notice. “We aren’t here to see Skeeter Darlin’. We gotta ask you a favor. I’m here to ask an old friend a small favor.”
“Favors are never small with you from what I remember. They also usually have a way of biting me right in the ass if my memory serves me right.” She replied, reluctant to pull her eyes from the Scotsman and back to her old friend.
Jax smirked, nodding his head. “Fair enough.”
He cleared his throat fast to speak again. “We need two bodies.”
“Jesus Christ, Jackson. Why are you coming to me with this? I’m not some club hangaround anymore. I’m trying to be a better person and you’re dragging me into this shit.” She snapped a groan leaving her as she took off her gloves slamming them down on the counter beside the cremains she’d previously been attending to.
Jax sighed, not entirely shocked by the reaction. He prayed he was right when he’d remarked that she wasn’t so on the straightened arrow that she wouldn’t go blabbing the information to the Charming P.D.
“I know it’s a lot to ask but…” He barely worked out before she spoke again.
“A lot to ask? You do realize when I got licensed I had to take several classes on the ethics of the funeral profession. I’m pretty sure handing out bodies to the local MC violates so many of those ethics I swore to uphold and is considered abuse of a corpse. You do realize I could lose everything if you fuck up and it leads back to me? You aren’t just asking me to let you borrow a freaking cup of sugar here, Jax.”
Chibs twisted his lips somewhat amused by how browbeaten Jax seemed to look upon this outburst.
If the outburst had come from a less pretty woman, Chibs might feel frustration. After all, they were depending on this girl to help them out of an utter shit-storm.
A small part of him had to admire the balls she had to speak to a dangerous looking biker in that tone of voice.
She was bold, bold and pretty were admirable traits in a woman.
Jax reached in his kutte pocket pulling out a thick manilla envelope. “I know, I’m sorry. It’s a lot to ask, but we’re in a bind here. SAMCRO is willing to compensate you for taking the risk.”
He paused handing over the envelope feeling somewhat guilty to even bring it up. “I know your old man was struggling to keep things running towards the end. This could help alleviate some of the burdens he left behind.”
She gazed down at the envelope, part of her wanting to toss it right back in his face the other part of her wanting to toss in the cremator as a showing of just what she thought of his attempts to buy out her morals.
She cringed a the heft of the envelope her mind crossing over those burdens Jax was mentioning.
Business was steady, but her father hadn’t been in the best health towards the end. It hadn’t been easy to tackle some of the debt left behind even with steady business.
She also felt her mind flash to her older brother. Institutionalization was expensive, even on a state level.
She gazed within the envelope making up her mind knowing it might damn her soul.
She shook her head, her jaw tight. “Two bodies?”
Jax nodded his head relieved that Clay had been right. Money talks. “Yeah, one white guy and a Mexican guy.”
She rolled her eyes, tempted to snap that this wasn’t a custom order shop and he’d get what he got and he’d be damn happy with it.
She gazed at the still flaming cremator. “I had a guy who died in a work accident….uh worked for the electric company. It’s a closed casket. He didn’t have enough of a family to give a shit and suddenly want an open casket at the last second. They’d barely even pay for me to do the embalming. Stop by the funeral home in a couple of hours and you can have him.”
She paused shifting in place, hating herself for doing any of this. “There’s a fresh burial, one of my guys just filled in the hole this morning…cheap casket. He should be fresh enough still, I’m a damn good embalmer…even with the cheap jobs.”
She gazed down at the envelope, a voice in the back of her head screaming she was completely soiling the profession she loved. She was scum. She’d been entrusted to care for these bodies and make sure they had a peaceful rest, and this was what she was doing.
She ran her thumb along the envelope, a louder voice claiming that the money would help. The money would help ease the debt and help make sure her brother got the best care available.
Between the debt and her brother's care she was drowning.
She was at risk of losing a family business that had been there for generations. It was her legacy.
She knew she could sell the family business and pay some of those debts but that seemed like such a shameful thought. Then there was the issue of her brother. Daniel needed around the clock care and it got pricey. The money could help to keep providing that care.
Without the institution he'd be moved to being in an even worst institution as a practical ward of the state or worst kicked out of the hospital. She knew he wouldn't stay medicated on the streets and she couldn't take care of him. There was no way he could live with her in his condition. They'd gone down that road before. Her father couldn't care for Daniel and she sure as hell couldn't.
She knew she was betraying the dead by taking this money but a voice in the back of her head snapped that the dead didn't need money. She sure as hell needed the money. Selling her morals and ignoring her conscience was the one way out of tunnel of debts and uncertainty. This action would surely damn her to hell and she couldn't take a moral high ground that she was a better person now.
It was damn hard to be the better person when you were stuck eating a diet of mostly ramen noodles and selling plasma just to barely scrape by. It was hard to be the good person when your brother needed yet another expensive medication to keep his symptoms under control. It was too hard to be the good person when you were so damn tired.
She knew she was going to hell for this, but she already felt like she was in hell half the time anyway with all the financial stress.
She sighed as Jax spoke, giving her a small grin. “Thanks Y/N. I know this is a big ask…”
“It is.” She interrupted a sigh leaving her.
She spoke again a grimace crossing her features knowing if she was damning her soul for this action she might as well fully commit. “From now on…you don’t go to Skeeter for favors. I’m your first contact.”
Chibs raised an eyebrow once again taken by the brass balls on the girl. He resisted the urge to smirk a little amused; she felt comfortable presenting this idea with as much of a fuss as she’d put up a second ago.
She spoke again, shaking her head. “You’re right, the money helps in more ways than one. I’m willing to do more favors in the future for a price…we both know I’m more reliable than Skeeter any day of the week.”
Jax grinned at the proposal. Maybe Clay had been right, having a funeral director in SAMCRO’s arsenal did hold the possibility of promise. “Of course, darlin’. You’ll be our first call. In fact we might need to borrow this crematorium later.”
“It’s done. Just call me. My number hasn’t changed.” She remarked that strange jealous feeling stirring up in Chibs’ gut again.
Her number hadn’t changed, a number Jax Teller apparently knew.
He didn’t have long to focus on the strange sense of jealousy or how it confused the hell out of him as the Sons turned to leave ready to leave and get this plan moving forward.
Chibs wasn’t pulled from his thoughts until Juice finally spoke, the man not having said anything this entire time. “I’m glad to be out of that place. It gives me the creeps.”
“Aye, the creeps.” Chibs remarked not able to focus on the environment they’d just been in the woman in that environment far more interesting. She was far from creepy.
To be honest Chibs Telford wasn't sure what to make of her. That concept puzzled him.
Juice watched as Jax sped up ahead of them before he spoke almost as though he could hear just what Chibs was thinking. “At least she’s not creepy as hell like Skeeter…I mean she's spooky given her job...but she is kind of hot…wonder what she meant by club hang around. She doesn't look like the average croweater...at least I don't get that vibe. Curious to know what that history is.”
Chibs frowned as that jealous little feeling stirred in him again. He shook it away a huff leaving him unable to stop himself from agreeing. “Aye…spooky.”
He paused shaking his head hating to admit that he was a little curious himself about just what the history surrounding Y/N was.
#chibs telford#chibs sons of anarchy#chibs telford x reader#sons of anarchy fanfiction#chibs telford fanfiction#chibs telford fanfic
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My First Night
“You Got This” Masterlist
A/N: Okay I've been wanting to write this for a looooong time and i think I finally figured it out. I wanted this to be tender and sweet (maybe a bit idealized as my first time was NOT any of those). I honestly miss these two. "My First Night" by Mya was the song that inspired this (YT link below).
Update: I fucked up. I prematurely posted this and have now updated the fic.
Rating: E (18+ ONLY)
Word Count: ~1,300
Pairing: Teenager!Jax Teller x Teenager F! Reader/OC (Opie's sister)
Plot: You're finally ready to take the next step with Jax and lose your virginity to him.
Contains: underage teenage sex, first time sex, losing virginity, PiV, fluff and tenderness
"Are you sure you're ready for this?" Jax asks, his eyes locked on yours.
You stare back and nod your head as you let out a shaky breath.
"It's gonna hurt a lot," he warns you.
"I-I'm ready," you reassure him.
Jax leans down to give you a kiss on your forehead before looking down to align himself with you. You wince as he starts pushing in. He pauses when you emit an unpleasant sound and he then sees your face contort.
"We can stop-"
"No, I want to do this," you tell him.
"Okay," he nods.
He continues to gently push in as he watches for your reactions. You try to control your breathing as you feel yourself being stretched out.
"Ow! Ow!" A tear spills from the corner of your eye.
Jax stills his hips again.
"Okay I'm pulling out-"
"No!" you sniffle. "J-just go slowly. How much more is there?"
Jax glances down between the both of you.
"I only got the tip in."
Jax starts placing butterfly kisses on your face, hoping to help soothe the pain.
"I don't wanna hurt you," Jax reminds you.
He thought he got you wet enough, but now he's thinking maybe he should have prepared you more. He got a bit too excited when you told him you were finally ready to lose your virginity to him. The two of you got comfortable enough to do everything up until sex. He would penetrate you only with his fingers and every time, he would make you orgasm, drenching his hand each time. But this time, he may have not given you enough foreplay, rushing it a bit to finally be able to do this with you. He thought the lubricant on the condom would also help. A lot has to do with teenage hormones, but a part of him also wants to do this with you because he wants to, in his own words, make love to you. You thought that was sweet and it made you feel even more special.
"M-maybe if I smoke some weed or have some beer-" you start rattling off ideas, partly to distract yourself from the slight discomfort between your legs.
"No," Jax shakes his head. "I want you to be sober. I'd feel like I'm taking advantage of you. We can try another time-"
"Please, Jackson," you plead. "I want this."
Jax is torn between his raging hormones and his feelings for you. He's even surprised at himself for having so much self-control right now.
"I gotta go all the way in if you want to get past the pain," he says with his brows turned down.
"I can take it," you nod. "Do it."
Jax finally nods and leans in to give you a tender kiss. He watches your reaction again as he pushes in. You wince but don't make a sound. Another tear slips out from your eye and he frowns.
"Keep going," you tell him.
With that, as gently as possible, he slides himself all the way to the brink, making you gasp. He stays still, letting your body get accustomed to the new sensation.
"Fuck, you're so tight."
You start crying, feeling the burn of getting stretched out.
"I know, I know. I’m sorry." He coaches you and guides you through your first time. "It'll feel better. I promise. Just relax."
He wipes the tears from your face with his thumbs and plants a kiss on your forehead. He then starts kissing you again, making out with you for a bit to distract you from the pain, which subsides after a few moments.
"How are you feeling?" he checks up on you.
"It doesn't hurt as much as anymore," you tell him.
"I'm gonna start going in and out, okay?"
You nod and brace yourself. He gives you another comforting kiss before he starts moving. His hips pull back and push in, slowly and gently. You let out a sigh, taking in this new feeling. When he senses your body in a more relaxed state, he picks up the pacing. The old and worn out wooden bed frame creaks as he rocks. The lumpy mattress that’s probably been stained with so many bodily fluids, dips below you. The clubhouse dorm room isn’t where you imagined your first time, but you and Jax had limited options. With the club on a run and Gemma running errands, this was the best time and place, but it doesn’t matter because all that matters is who you’re with.
You were self conscious of being completely naked for the first time in front of Jax, but all those insecurities have gone away. Instead, it is replaced by the feeling of his naked body rubbing against yours. You feel so connected to him in a way you've never expected. His skin is so soft and smooth. The nerves of your skin get more sensitive with each stroke. You want to embrace him with every inch of your body and stay like this forever. You slip your arms behind him, feeling his bare back under your palms as his muscles flex. The burn between your legs has transformed into a more pleasurable feeling and you can feel yourself getting more aroused. Suddenly, Jax pauses, remaining still while inside of you.
"W-what happened?" you ask, wondering if you may have done something wrong.
"I'm just... pacing myself," he replies. "If I keep going, I'm going to bust in like two pumps."
"I-is that normal?"
"For guys my age? Yeah. But I'm also just over excited. I rubbed one out before I came to see you, but obviously, that didn't help."
You catch him studying your face. There's a smile that reaches his twinkling eyes.
"What?"
"Nothing," Jax shakes his head. He opens his mouth again, but he stops himself.
"What is it?" you press.
He simply slots his mouth over yours before moving his hips again. This time, his pacing is a bit quicker and more forceful. You moan into his mouth feeling a warmth forming below your belly. You instinctively wrap your legs around his lower waist and hook your ankles together. His kisses turn feverish as his thrusts pick up. Your fingernails dig into his back.
"Jackson..." you pant. "It feels so good."
Jax groans as he tries to hold back, delaying his release for you. He shifts his hips, changing up the position a little and you moan when he hits a new spot. A somewhat familiar yet new sensation rapidly multiples.
"Oh god," you yelp. Your body tenses and the tightening in your gut spreads.
"Let it go, darlin'," Jax grunts, resting his forehead against yours. "Let it all go."
He punches up against you as he quickly starts spiraling. You moan and cry out when something inside you snaps and the warmth floods your entire body. Jax lets out a growl and lets himself go as soon as he feels your wall contracting, no longer able to wait. You arch up and look up at him, your face contorting as your orgasm takes over you. You gasp when you feel him pulsating inside you.
"Fuck!" Jax growls.
He continues to pump inside of you until all of his seed spills out and collapses on top of you. His face is buried in your neck as you both catch your breaths. Your heart is pounding hard against your chest and you wonder if Jax can feel it as well.He finally pulls back and looks at you again with that same look he did earlier..
"I love you."
Your heart is so full right now, you can cry.
"I love you, too, Jackson."
In this moment, you are so happy, you are certain there is absolutely nothing that can take it away. Jax nudges his nose against yours and your hands cup his face before your lips meet again.
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#charlie hunnam#charlie hunnam fanfiction#jax teller#jax teller x you#jax teller x reader#jax teller x oc#jax teller fanfiction#sons of anarchy#sons of anarchy fanfiction#you got this#Youtube
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La Reina del Inframundo
When your neighbor goes missing, you call upon your seven deadly sins to help get him back.
Words: 8.6K
Author's Note: SURPRISE! Finally have something to post, so here it is a day earlier than normal.
This imagine is probably ridiculous, but you know what? Blame the Kingdom of the Wicked series. I wanted my own seven deadly sins lol even if they don't make much of an appearance in here.
Sons of Anarchy AU.
Title translation: The Queen of the Underworld.
When you were little, you were probably the most spoiled girl you'd ever known. Anything you needed or wanted was yours and you ended up quite ignorant of everything going on around you. You didn't know anything about the family business, only that your daddy was an important man and you had numerous uncles who looked after you. And then you became a teenager, and you understood that not only was your daddy important but he was also dangerous too. Your parents did everything to shield you from the life, but when you and your mother were kidnapped and she was killed, you wanted to know the ins and outs of everything.
Your uncles, only a couple by blood, made sure you knew how to take care of yourself. You learned to fight and how to handle weapons, and learned about other families that were nearly as important as yours. You learned who your allies were and who your enemies were, and far sooner than you had anticipated, you were upgraded from Princess to Queen.
Losing your father made you bitter and you held no remorse for sending your men after those who had a hand in his death. It was your turn to lead the family business as your father's only child, and your father's brothers happily let everyone think they were in charge while you watched everyone and everything from the shadows.
Everyone learned to fear your family name since you were quite bloodthirsty, but as the years slowly passed you learned to take it down a notch. Eventually, you grew tired of having no privacy and decided to move out on your own since no one outside of the men you grew up with knew you were the head of the family business.
You chose Charming since it was quite the picturesque little town, but those who served under you didn't like you being so far away. So, to keep them from dropping by or watching you from afar, you anonymously purchased a large plot of land and let them build another compound and warehouse nearby.
The construction of the compound and warehouse gave you more than enough time to find a suitable house for yourself, and have it remodeled and furnished before you moved in. There was lots of talk around Charming about who was disrupting their usual routine, but no one ever found out anything of importance.
When you finally move into your house, it takes some getting used to. There's no noise, and no men lurking around corners or men coming up to you every half hour to see if you need anything. It feels good to make your own food and have a peaceful meal, and to just laze around to watch some television, but you're still the woman behind the curtain, taking phone calls and attending meetings and making sure everything is on the up and up.
You've been in your new house for a couple of weeks now and there's not been a single problem. At least not until you're in the middle of your shower and your scalding hot water turns unbearably cold. With a shout, you hop on out to try and catch your breath. You give it a few seconds before testing the water with your hand and quickly yank back when it's still cold.
You test the hot water in the bathroom sink, but that too is cold. Pulling on a robe, you head to your kitchen and test the hot water there. Cold. All cold.
With a sigh, you head towards the laundry room where the water heater resides. There's a little blinking light at the bottom that should signify the water heater is working properly, but unfortunately it isn't blinking.
"Son of a-"
You've learned a lot of things, but lighting the pilot light was not one of them. So uncaring for the fact that you're merely in a robe with shampoo still in your hair, you slip your feet into a pair of house slippers and head outside. You look around your neighbors' driveways and find a motorcycle parked at the house next to yours.
Scurrying next door, you knock on the front door. It doesn't take long at all for the door to be opened and you give yourself a moment to take in the tall specimen standing in front of you. Wet hair hangs down past the man's shoulders, water droplets clinging to a full beard, and a towel is wrapped tightly around his waist. Water droplets glisten down a tattooed torso and you have to quickly shake your head clear when you realize you're ogling. "Uh, sorry." You glance up to meet his amused gaze. "I, uh, I live next door. I really hope it's not a bad time, besides the obvious nakedness going on, but I could really use your help if you're not in a time crunch."
He arches an eyebrow at you. "What seems to be the problem?"
"I was in the middle of my own shower when my water heater went out. I checked it and there are no leaks which leads me to believe the pilot light went out. I have no clue how to light it and I'm hoping you do."
"Sure. Let me just…" He trails off as he glances down his body. "Let me get dressed and I'll help you out."
You sag in relief. "Thank you so much."
"You can use my kitchen sink if you wanna rinse your hair. You know, just in case the problem is something else."
"Oh. Yeah, thanks. I would rather rinse with hot water than cold."
The man opens his door further and you step in. "I'm Opie."
"YN. Nice to finally meet one of my neighbors."
He chuckles. "Yeah? Everyone 'round here steers clear."
"Motorcycle that off putting?"
"That and the MC." Walking into the kitchen, he points to a kutte hanging off the back of a chair. Sons of Anarchy. And huh. You've heard of them- heard all about the power struggle within the club, but they stayed off your radar and you theirs.
"What a bunch of pussies," you mumble. But Opie still hears you and he grins some more.
"Sink is clean. There's even a hose you can use. I'll be right back."
"Mhm. Thanks again."
Opie turns to walk away, and you tilt your head to admire his back muscles and tattoos. You bite your bottom lip at what you see, but quickly turn to the kitchen sink less you're busted ogling him again.
Turning on the sink's hot water, you grab the little hose and test it out. When the water is hot, you bend over the sink and flip your hair into it.
It takes you longer than anticipated to rinse out the shampoo in your hair and when you do, you're quick to turn off the water and then wring out as much water from your hair as you can. Letting your hair hang in front of your shoulder and over your chest so the front of the robe soaks up any other water, you find paper towels close by and take one to clean up the sides of the sink and counter where water splashed.
"All good to go?" You startle at the words and whirl around, finding Opie leaning against the doorway as he grins at you. His hair has been pulled back into a knot and a black shirt hugs his torso sinfully tight.
You gulp. "Y-Yeah."
"After you then."
You stumble and mutter a quick, shut up, when he laughs at you. He follows you all the way to your house, shutting the front door behind him and then stepping into your laundry room. "This is it. There's a light that's supposed to be blinking-"
"Yeah. I know. I actually have this same water heater."
"Oh, thank god."
Opie squats down and you watch him hold a knob down while clicking another button. It clicks about fifteen times before the light blinks, and you exhale in relief. "That should do it. If it goes out again on its own, just go ahead and come get me. It'll probably need to be cleaned and I can help with that also."
"Thank you! I really didn't want to have to call my uncles. They didn't want me living on my own and they would have teased me mercilessly if I had to call them so soon."
"I bet." Opie looks you up and down in your robe and your shift nervously. "Well, I'll go ahead and get out of your hair so you can finish your shower or whatever. If you ever need help, you know where to find me now. As long as my bike is out front, I'm home."
You smile as you walk him towards the door. "Thank you so much, Opie. I definitely owe you one."
You watch him until he's halfway between your houses and then shut the door before hurrying back to your bathroom.
And hallelujah! You have hot water once again.
After your first meeting with Opie, you seem to see him all the time when you're out and about. You have a smile and wave for him every time you make eye contact, laughing when his club brothers eye you up and down or whistle appreciatively until Opie shoves them hard enough to shut them up.
The next time you have face to face time with him, however, is when you're on the side of the road trying to replace a flat tire.
"Come. On. You. Sonnuvabitch," you grunt as you try to twist the lug wrench to loosen a lug nut. You've managed to get one off, but the others are proving to be a bitch.
The sound of motorcycle engines approaching has you looking up and down the side of the stretch of road you're on, and you spot two individuals riding closer and closer. Only needing their muscle to loosen the lug nuts since you know how to do the rest, you stand up and wave them down. And when you see them slowing down, angling their bikes to you, you sigh in relief.
One of the men has a very familiar beard and you can't help but smile as they stop right behind your car. "Hey neighbor," you muse when they cut their engines.
Opie pulls off his riding glasses and helmet, settling everything on his handlebars. His friend does the same before they both stand, and Opie offers you a small smile. "What trouble are you in now?"
"I just need your muscles, I swear." You chuckle, nodding at his friend and his too charming grin he throws your way. "The last place I got my car a tune-up at, they tightened the lug nuts too tight. I just need someone to loosen them up really quick and then I can take care of the rest."
"No need to worry that pretty little head of yours, darlin'," Opie's friend says. "I'm sure my boy Ope can take care of it for you." He claps Opie on the shoulders, squeezing and nudging him forward.
Opie's eyes roll. "YN, this is Jax. Jax, this is my neighbor YN."
You and Jax exchange greetings as Opie gets to work on changing your tire for you.
"So, how's that water heater treating you?" Opie asks. "No more naked knocks on other people's doors?"
"Naked knocks?" Jax arches an eyebrow at you.
"First of all, shut up," you tell Jax. And then looking at Opie, you say, "It's working fine. Haven't had a problem since you helped me."
"Good. That's good."
"So where did you come from?" Jax asks.
"From Salinas."
"Yeah? Why Charming?"
You shrug. "When my mom passed, my dad and his brothers raised me. And then my dad passed, and my uncles took my wellbeing a little too seriously. I needed some space from them."
"Pretty sure they're expecting her to throw in the towel any moment now and go crawling back to them," Opie says.
"Exactly." You grin at the biker that's nearly finished with changing your tire for you. "They know I know how to take care of myself, but they're still hoping I fail and call them up. Can you imagine how put out they're going to be when they realize I have a perfectly friendly biker living next door who doesn't mind lending me a hand every once in a while?"
Opie laughs as he lowers your car from the small car jack. He then grabs up the flat tire and carries it to the trunk of your car while Jax grabs up the jack and the lug wrench. Once everything is put away, the men face you as Opie says, "You're all set. If you stop by Teller Automotive, we can get the tire fixed for you and put the spare back in the trunk."
You arch an eyebrow at him. "You work at an auto garage?"
"Try own it," Jax muses. "It's mine. The club runs it," he says while pointing to the President patch on his own kutte.
"Huh. Nice." Then glancing back at Opie, you say, "Well I guess I owe you. Again."
"I'm just racking up those favors, aren't I?"
"Yeah, yeah." You smile as you pull open the driver's side door. "Thank you. I'll, uh, I'll see you around."
The men make their way back to their bikes, but they wait until you drive off before taking their leave as well.
As music blares throughout your room, you mouth along to the lyrics as you ready yourself for a party with the Sons of Anarchy. You had taken your tire to Teller Automotive when you found the time and Opie fixed it up for you like he said he would. Then after putting it back on your car, he made sure your spare was okay before putting it away back in the trunk. Jax tried to refuse payment by saying you get a freebie for being new to Charming, but you weren't having it and bullied the man in his office to take your money.
Needless to say, the Sons were impressed with how you didn't back down.
Jax then extended an invite to their party, and you agreed since you didn't have any plans. Opie tried to tell you that you didn't have to attend because their type of parties usually got out of hand, but you assured him you could handle your own with an all-knowing grin. Jax whooped and Opie looked a little apprehensive but still told you what time to be there.
So here you are, in a backless black bandana tank top and a pair of faded skinny jeans with rips along your thighs and knees. Your makeup has already been applied and your hair straightened, and you readily slip your feet into a pair of chunky heeled Doc Martens. And instead of taking a purse or wallet, you decide to slip your ID and Driver's License into the back of your phone case before slipping it into one pocket while shoving several twenties in the other.
Then after making sure everything is turned off, with the exception of two small lamps in the living room, you lock up your house and head out for the night.
The drive to Teller Automotive isn't that far and you get there fairly quickly. The entire lot is enclosed with a tall chain link fence that has some form of material draped on the inside so you can't see through, so you're not sure where to park, but one of the Sons who's speaking with a woman outside the fence spots you and tells you where to go. After following his directions, you park and get out of your car. Then pocketing your keys, you turn around and take in your surroundings.
There are barrels of fire scattered around the lot, as well as numerous picnic tables and a single boxing ring that has two men going toe to toe inside of it as many spectators cheer on the violence. The auto garage portion of the building is shut down, but the club portion has its bay doors rolled up. As you make your way towards it, you can see a bar and numerous tables scattered about the room. There are a couple of couches and even a pool table, and many scantily clad women working the room.
Chuckling, you enter the club with all the confidence in the world. Immediately you can feel the stares on you- both lecherous and envious- and you make your way towards the bar.
Sitting on the stool across from the bartender, you smile at him. "Can I have a beer? Whatever you have is fine." As the bartender grabs you a beer, you pull a twenty from your pocket and hand it over.
"It's only six bucks."
"Then I'll grab another two throughout the night. Don't worry about any change."
The bartender nods and puts the money away under the counter, and you turn around on your stool. Crossing one knee over the other, you lean back against the bar while taking your first sip of your drink.
"Hey. When'd you get in?" Jax takes the stool next to you and you grin at him.
"Just now. Was taking in the scene before I went looking for familiar faces."
"Ope would have greeted 'ya, but he's currently trying to fend off a couple of sweetbutts."
"Sweetbutts?"
"Women who want to fuck a Son in hopes of him giving her his crow."
You frown. "How does one give someone a crow?"
Jax chuckles. "You know, it's kind of refreshing that you don't know anything about the MC life."
"Yeah, well…" You shrug, trailing off as you take another sip of your beer.
"It can be a good thing or a bad thing," he continues. "Good because we know you ain't looking at Ope just because of his kutte and bad because this life is tough. Especially for the women."
You flash him a grin. "Who said I was lookin' at Opie?"
"Please." Jax huffs. "I put on my best smile for you when he was changing your tire and you only had eyes for him."
"It's the height. And the muscle definition in his back." You sigh wistfully, sipping your beer. "God, his back."
Jax laughs as he grabs himself another beer and you gesture the bartender to give you another. "Well, Ope can use a saving grace whenever you're ready. Don't let anyone push you around."
"Trust me. I won't."
As Jax takes his leave, you meet every woman's glare that had been directed at you because he had chosen to spend a few minutes of his time on you. You give them the most deadpan stare ever until they look away and then smirk as you start in on your second beer. A couple men try their luck with you, but you're quick to reject them before they can get too comfortable. Your gaze occasionally falls back on Opie, and you make your move when you see him drain his beer and the so-called sweetbutts on either side of him lean further into his personal space.
Rolling your eyes, you grab a fresh beer from the bartender and start towards your neighbor. The gathered Sons seem to perk up, making the women on their laps pout, but you only have eyes for Opie.
Coming to a stop in front of him, you smirk as he looks up and the women vying for his attention glare at you. Holding out the new beer to him, you say, "Come on. Let's go get some fresh air."
His lips twitch as he accepts the beer and the woman on his left scoffs. "Excuse me!"
"You're excused."
Opie and his brothers all laugh and then the woman on his right gets bold. "Back off, bitch. Seniority rules here. If you're gonna be a regular, you start at the bottom of the totem pole. Now go clean the toilets or something."
Opie looks offended on your behalf, but you merely laugh as you step so you're directly standing in front of her. "Oh honey, I'm way too pretty to do the toilets. You, on the other hand…" She gasps and leans forward to stand, but you're quick to lift a foot and plant your boot in the middle of her chest. Her eyes widen as you shove her back into her seat and you lean forward as much as you can with your foot pressing against her. "Trust me, you don't wanna go down this road. You think I'm easy prey because this is my first time here but let me assure you that they will not find your body if you decide to piss me off."
"And that's our cue to go." Opie is quick to stand, gently grabbing you by the wrist to tug you away. His brothers all whoop and laugh as the one woman tries to console her friend who had balked at your words. You follow after him as he leads you outside, walking up to a picnic table that he ends up stepping up onto the bench to sit atop the table. You do the same and as you settle side by side, he asks, "So we wouldn't find her body, huh?"
You snort, covering your mouth where beer had dribbled out since he asked the question when you were mid-sip. "What can I say? I'm full of surprises."
"I'll say." Opie takes a pull from his own beer bottle. "So how are you liking the party?"
You shrug. "It's decent." Then you point towards the boxing ring with the neck of your bottle. "You ever get in there?"
"If I ever have any aggression to work out, yeah."
"Most people fuck their aggression out; you fight it out." This time it's Opie's turn to snort his beer and you smirk. "So how are you liking tonight's party? Are the women always so…"
"Slutty?"
"I was gonna say bold."
Opie shakes his head as he chuckles. "Yeah. It's their life's mission to either get knocked up by someone in a kutte or get a crow or a ring."
"That's the second time I heard something about a crow. What is that?" You ask.
Opie looks at you, seeing that you're honestly curious. "In our MC, a crow is a big deal. Bigger than a ring."
"No shit?"
"It's basically the men branding their women as their property."
"Wow," you drawl, completely unimpressed. "The women around here really need to rethink their priorities."
Opie chuckles some more. "So, you're saying you wouldn't get a tattoo for your man?"
"I mean…" You trail off, shrugging. "It all depends on the situation."
"How?"
"Take me and you for example," you say and roll your eyes when Opie smirks. "If we started hooking up and a month or two from now you asked me to get a tattoo personalized for you, I'd say you were out of your damn mind. I'd have to be with someone for years before getting a tattoo dedicated to my partner."
"That's fair." He takes a moment to watch you, watching you take in your surroundings and be at ease in this new environment. "So how was your day?"
"So-so," you say, watching the men duke it out in the ring. "It was a bit of a bore if I'm being honest."
"No work?"
"I work from home." You turn to face him, grinning softly. "I, uh, I have a family-owned private security schtick going on. My uncles work from the office, but I take calls and answer emails at home."
"Does working from home turn a decent profit?"
"I'm living pretty comfortably, so I'd say it does."
Opie doesn't question your answer and then turns back to the fight himself.
For the rest of the night, the two of you keep one another company outside by the fire. You switch to water so you're able to drive home and you learn a little bit more about how the MC handles themselves and the people milling about their territory.
Over the next couple of weeks, you find Opie hanging out at your place more and more. After the faucet at your kitchen sink had deteriorated and leaked beneath the cabinets, Opie installed the new one for you after you bought everything you needed. You repaid him with dinner and a beer, and he just kept showing up after that. Sometimes with Jax or Juice or even Happy who reminded you of some of your uncles.
You've gotten to know each other really well that you have a date-slash-not date planned with him, so you're a little surprised when he doesn't show.
Or answer your call.
Or your text.
You keep listening for a motorcycle, but two days go by and nothing.
On the third day there's a pounding on your front door that immediately has you agitated. You march over to it, yank it open to give whoever it is a piece of your mind, only to gape as Jax marches in.
"Have you heard from Ope?"
"Well hello to you too," you deadpan as you swing the door shut. Sighing, you follow him to the living room where he's pacing.
"I'm being serious here, YN. Have you heard from Ope?"
His worry and tone give you pause, and then immediately sets you on edge. "No. We had plans two days ago, but he never showed up." You frown when you realize how exhausted Jax seems. "What's going on?"
Jax sighs and runs a hand through his hair. "Nothing. Don't-"
"Don't tell me not to worry about it," you say. You step in front of him, arms crossed. "I was ready to bitch out Opie the next time I saw him, but then you marched in here all worried and now I'm worried. If he left town on his own, then fine. But if he was taken because of the club-"
"What the hell would you know about club life?" He scoffs.
"Don't get pissy with me, presidente." You snap back at him. "You'd be surprised at what I know."
"Oh yeah?"
"Yes." You lightly glare at him, but then the glare softens as you smirk at him. "Weren't you a little bit skeptical at how easily I made myself comfortable at your parties? How I didn't cower to your women or how I stood up to the men who tried their luck?"
Jax tenses. "Who are you?"
"A friend, I hope." Jax frowns and you sigh. "Look. I didn't come to Charming looking for trouble. I didn't plan on Opie being my neighbor or getting to know you guys. In fact, I just wanted to fly under the radar, but you guys… you guys threw a wrench into everything."
"Who do you work for?"
You scoff. "I don't work for anyone."
"What the hell is going on here, YN?" Jax wonders, getting annoyed. "I'm confused as shit right now and my brother is missing and-"
"Hey." You step right into his space, reaching up to lightly pat the side of his face as you stare up at him. "I can help you look for him, but you're gonna need to trust me. I know this is MC business, but if you want Opie found then you're gonna have to spill."
"This isn't going to bite me on the ass?"
"Nope. In fact, I'm pretty sure you'll benefit from it. Now what do you say?" You hold a hand out to him. "If you say you trust me, you have to tell me exactly what's going on. The nitty gritty details won't ever be repeated from my lips."
Jax takes a moment to think about it before throwing caution to the wind and grasping your hand. "Fine. We have a deal."
"Good." Pulling out your phone with your other hand, you press on the name that's saved in your first favorite slot. It rings twice before the call is answered. "Gather my favorite sins and send them to my house. Discreetly. Someone important to me was taken and I am not happy."
You disconnect the call and Jax just stares at you. "Your favorite sins? What the fuck was that about?"
But you merely smile at him. "Congratulations, Mr. Teller. Sons of Anarchy are now under my protection so long as you don't do stupid shit."
"Your protection?"
"You'll see. Now talk. I need to figure out an abbreviated version to tell my sins when they get here."
Jax arches an eyebrow. "Your sins?"
"Yes. Now speak."
Jax huffs but takes a seat on the edge of your couch, spilling everything. You're familiar with turf wars and kidnappings and torture, and the more Jax speaks the more unsettled you are for Opie. The issue, however, is an old grievance another MC has with the Sons. They'd been spotted around town for the past week, keeping the Sons on their toes and making the Sons chase them out of town. But the Sons were split in all sorts of directions and Opie never came back.
Jax is in the middle of telling you possible locations of where Opie might be when the back door to your house opens. He pauses and immediately reaches for his gun, but you put a hand on his wrist and put a finger to your mouth to tell him to be quiet. "Let me do the talking. It'll be fine."
Jax hesitantly relaxes, but then he tenses right back up when man after man files into your living room. Each one is wearing dark jeans and a dark jacket with its hood pulled up, but when the hoods fall, he's treated to every man's face tattooed to look skeletal. "What the…"
Each man takes a stand around the room, only having eyes for you as they completely ignore Jax. "Listen up. Opie Winston is the man that was taken." You pull out your phone, pulling up a picture you snapped of him before holding your phone up- screen out- so your men can see. "He's my neighbor and has been nothing but kind to me. I've grown very fond of him."
One of your men (Pride) quietly huffs but you still hear him as he mutters, "Seems like our queen has found herself a king."
"¡Cállate!" You snap at him. "His club president has kindly offered up who took him and possible locations of where they might be keeping him, but they can't get close. I need you to find Opie and bring him back safely. Anyone involved in his kidnapping is to be brought in as well. I want them to see what happens when you take something or someone I deem important from me." After telling them what they need to know, your men all nod and you smirk before letting them go. "Now that you're caught up, you're dismissed. Happy hunting."
The men take their leave from the same door they walked in through and then you turn to Jax who has an eyebrow arched at you in amusement. "Queen, huh? And let me guess, those were the seven deadly sins?"
"Yes. Pride, Greed, Lust, Envy, Gluttony, Wrath, and Sloth are my best crew. Now call off your boys and have them go back to the club. The last thing we need is them shooting at my sins."
"Fuck. You're right." Jax pulls out his own phone to call his boys off. You watch him as he sends out the text and then he stands as if ready to leave.
"Sorry if I overstepped by calling dibs on the men who took Opie."
"Don't be." He smirks at you now. "I'm kind of curious to see what you're capable of. And I totally called it. You have the hots for Opie. Happy's gonna be so disappointed."
You roll your eyes a little and you hand Jax your phone. "Put your number in. I'll call you when we have your boy back."
"Don't you mean our boy?"
"Shut up." You laugh and then reclaim your phone after he's done what you asked. "And just so you know, if there's more than one man they bring in, only one of them gets to walk so he's able to warn his club that Sons of Anarchy are now under my protection."
"You're that confident, huh?"
"You have no idea. Now get outta here, but don't tell your other boys about me."
"Why not?"
"Because I enjoy making an entrance."
Jax laughs as he walks out of your house. "If you manage to find Ope, you'll be my new favorite person."
"Yeah, yeah."
For the past day and a half, you've reclaimed your throne at the compound and established with your tios that you were coming out of the shadows. They didn't fight you on the decision and, in fact, they might have even encouraged you to see where things went with the missing Son since you needed someone by your side.
You've been in contact with Jax, keeping him updated, but you've yet to update him of the latest development.
Opie was found along with four bikers who'd been guarding him.
You're anxious to tell Jax, but you want to get Opie settled and cleaned up before calling in his brothers. So, to kill time, you go ahead and get dressed.
You strip down to your panties right there in your room, pulling on a blazer and buttoning it closed beneath your bust so your cleavage is on display. You even have to place some double-sided sticky tape so there are no nip slips while you put on a show. Then you find yourself a pair of leather pants that you manage to wiggle into and a pair of stilettos that make you feel powerful as you walk around in a room full of men.
You're adding a couple pieces of jewelry here and there when you get the text that Opie is there. You finish getting ready and then walk out to where you know they're holding him, and grin when you hear him cursing up a storm.
"Who the fuck even are you guys? If you really are my rescuers, why can't I leave?"
"That… would be because of me," you muse as you step into the room.
Opie's head whips in your direction and your smile drops when you see the black eye, the gash above his eyebrow and on the bridge of his nose, and the busted lip. Even his hands look like they have some damage, and his clothes are bloodied.
"YN?"
"In the flesh." You walk closer to him, hesitantly reaching out to him in case he balks from your touch, but he doesn't. You touch his hair, frowning to find crusted blood clumping the strands together. "And to think I thought you stood me up."
"Nope. I was just being held hostage. Still am."
You offer him a grin. "You're not a hostage here, Opie. I swear. Now come on." You offer him a hand. "Come with me so you can get cleaned up and changed. I'll call Jax and the others, and then I'll deal with those assholes who had you."
"You? You're gonna deal with them?"
"Yep. Got Jax's blessing and everything. Now let's go. I had to sneak into your house to grab you some clothes, so you might as well put them to use."
Opie laughs and then groans, clutching at his ribs. You rub his shoulder until the pain passes and when he stands you grab his hand. Mentally cheering when he doesn't pull away, you lead him back to your bedroom so he can use your private shower.
Opie looks around your room while you grab his bag from the closet and then show him to the bathroom. You try not to grin when you see him taking it all in and then leave him be. You pull out your phone to text Jax the directions to the compound and that they'd be let in upon arrival, and then settle in front of your vanity.
Whenever you've done business with those who opposed what you and your family have done or tried to claim your notoriety for themselves, you've always presented yourself a certain way. Your makeup was half and half, half normal and half skeletal, which is why your favorite sins have tattooed themselves that way. So as Opie showers, you get started on wiping off half your makeup before blending white and black face paint along your features.
It surprisingly doesn't take you long to get your makeup done, so you take a seat on the edge of your bed to wait for Opie to be done. A handful of minutes later, the bathroom door opens and Opie steps out. He freezes when he sees you and you smirk at him. "Come take a seat. We need to talk."
Rubbing the towel over his hair one last time, Opie tosses it back into your bathroom before padding barefoot towards you. As he sits, he asks, "Who are you?"
"I'm YN. You know that."
"You're clearly a very important person to have so many men working under you."
Grinning at him, you shrug. "I was my father's only heir. His business became my business."
"You said you worked in private security."
"Yeah. We do that too, but in the underground- in the underworld- we do so much more. They call me La Reina de Inframundo."
"Which means?"
"Queen of the Underworld."
Opie huffs and you hesitantly reach for his hand, clasping it between two of your own. "Why'd you go through so much trouble for me?"
"Because you were kind to me." He scoffs this time, and you angle your body towards him. "I'm serious. You had no idea about my reputation and treated me like any other woman that wasn't actively trying to get into your pants. You were kind and you became my friend, and I- I might have grown overly fond of you."
"Only might?" You roll your eyes with a slight huff and stand, but Opie is quick to catch you by the wrist and pull you in so you're standing between his parted knees. "Oh, I think you're pretty fond of me if you went through all this trouble."
"Fine. I like you, but I'm also aware about how the men of MC's work. And I just want to assure you right now, no matter what happens between you and me, I will have the Sons' back. I've never had a sibling, but I'm pretty sure I wouldn't want one if they're anything like Jax or Juice."
Opie grins at your joke. "Been keeping in contact with them?"
"Jax, yes. Juice just thought I needed to be checked up on for some reason. I guess he assumed I'd be a sobbing mess without you around or something."
"...thank you."
"You don't need to thank me, Ope." You reach for his face, gently cradling it in the palms of your hands before smoothing his hair back as his arms wrap around the small of your back. "You'd have done the same for me if I'd gone missing."
His smile immediately vanishes as his gaze darkens and his arms squeeze you tighter which brings you closer to him. And honestly, you quite like the feeling of being in his arms. "They'd be dead if they'd taken you."
"Likewise." His brow furrows and you wrinkle your nose at him. "Look at you all adorable and clueless," you coo. You lean down and press a kiss to his forehead. "Those men outside signed their own death certificates the moment they kidnapped you. They just don't know it yet."
"You're gonna kill them?"
"You'll see. Now put your shoes on. Your boys should be here by now and they're probably itching to pull a gun. Go keep them calm."
As Opie looks for socks and shoes, you walk over to your bedside table and pull open the drawer. Pulling out your gun, you make sure it's loaded before sliding into your waistband at the small of your back and then situating the back of your blazer over it. When you turn back around, Opie's staring at you with an arched eyebrow. You merely grin and shoo him out the door, telling him you'd be out there soon.
You give him a minute to find his way and then head out yourself, keeping to the shadows. Then when you get to the main room, you move to the darkest corner and watch everyone. The Sons of Anarchy stand off to one side as they look over Opie with your sins and tios on the other, and in the middle are the four bikers the sins had taken and bound to chairs.
"What the fuck is this?" One of the bound bikers scoffs. "Have the Sons turned into pussies that let a new crew handle their business?"
All the Sons, with the exception of Jax and Opie, bristle at the insult. Happy and Tig look like they're on a very short leash and would like nothing more than to tear apart the men limb by limb, but Jax keeps them in line.
"That's what I thought. Pussies."
Happy and Tig lunge, but Jax and Juice keep their brothers back. Opie mutters about it not being worth it and once it quiet, you take that as your cue.
Walking forward, you keep your head held high and let the click!, click!, click!, of your heels put the room on edge. The men part and it takes a moment for a majority of the Sons to recognize you. Jax gapes and then smirks, nudging Opie who shakes his head at his brother.
"What the fuck is this?" Tig asks.
"Our new ally," Jax muses.
Walking up to the bound four men, you arch an eyebrow at them. The mouthy one scoffs yet again as he takes you in. "You idiots made a mistake," you say. "You took someone I care about and I don't take that lightly." Reaching for the small of your back, you pull free your gun and grip it tight.
"Ha. I'm sure under that stupid makeup you're nothing but a pretty face, so why don't you strut that perky ass of yours back out of the room and let the grown men talk."
His companions all chuckle and you allow yourself to sarcastically laugh with them before aiming your gun and pulling the trigger. The laughing immediately ceases, and their expressions all morph into shock as their mouthy companion's head slumps backwards. You smirk. "Only one of you will walk out of here, so the more you mouth off the faster you will die."
The remaining three men struggle against their binds, and you giggle at their fear.
"Holy shit," Happy utters. Your gaze darts to him and you smirk as you watch him take in your tios and your sins. When his gaze darts back to you, he says, "La Reina del Inframundo."
You bend at the waist, arms sweeping out to the side as you mockingly bow. "At your service."
"What the fuck is that?" Tig asks, glancing between his brother and you. "Not all of us speak spanish, Hap."
"Queen of the Underworld," Jax answers. He saunters up to your side, nudging your elbow with his own. "Isn't that right?"
"Sí." Then losing your smile, you walk closer to the bound men, pacing back and forth in front of them. "So, this is what's going to happen. One of you is going back to your president and letting him know that the Sons are under La Reina's protection."
"Who is going back?" Another bound individual asks. He looks between his other bound brothers, throwing them under the bus. "I'll tell you whatever it is you want to know."
You slowly grin at him and then raise your gun, putting a bullet between his eyes. "No me gustan las ratas (I don't like rats)." One of the remaining two flinches and whimpers, and you put a bullet in his head too. The last remaining individual keeps his gaze straight ahead and though you see his bottom lip tremble, you let him live. "And it looks like we have a winner."
Your men and the Sons all chuckle.
"Untie him, Envy. Greed and Wrath, I need you two to drive him out to the middle of nowhere. Let him find his own way back home."
As the man is untied, he hesitantly stands while rubbing his wrist. "So, I'm free to go? Just like that?"
"Just a little like that." Before he can question you, you put a bullet in his right knee. He shouts in both pain and surprise, and you grin. "Now you're free to go."
Greed and Wrath stalk forward, grabbing the guy's arms and dragging him out of the room. You don't need to utter a word as other men under your rule step forward, untying the dead bodies and getting them out of there as well.
Looking towards the Sons, you gesture for them to follow. "I have a bar upstairs. It's about to smell like bleach down here, so unless you're into that…"
As you start walking, you grab Opie's hand and tug him after you. You hear Jax chuckle, but soon enough they all start to follow.
Upstairs sits one of your favorite rooms. A sleek mahogany bar runs the length of the side wall, the wall behind it lit up and showcasing every bottle of liquor in stock. There's a clear refrigerator that's stocked with several brands of beer and you even have a few on tap. There are a cluster of couches for those decompressing talks, as well as round tables and chairs for the rowdier gatherings. And for entertainment, there are two dart boards and a pool table.
"Pick your poison, boys. Pride will get you whatever you want so long as we have it."
As the Sons gladly make their way to the bar, Opie stays by your side. He tugs you closer, tucking you into his side and he presses his lips to your temple as your arm wraps around the small of his back. "What is it with naming your men after the seven deadly sins?"
"When I took over, I needed a crew of my very own who would be loyal to me and me only. All my men are obviously loyal, but some have a family of their own who will always be number one to them," you say as you glance up at him. "I get it, I do, but I wanted those who would put me first. My seven deadly sins do that."
As Opie stares down at you, you feel the tension between the two of you amping up. It's always been there, ever since the two of you started hanging out, but neither of you ever acted on it. But as his eyes dart to your lips and your hand finds its way under his shirt so you can stroke the skin of his hip, you know it's inevitable that this friendship is destined to be something more.
"I hate to be a cockblock," you hear Jax muse, "but how exactly is all this going to work out?" You and Opie both exhale in annoyance, glancing at his club president who's smirking between the two of you. "Not that I'm not grateful for the Queen's protection, but we can't be seen as pussies."
"And you won't be," you say. "The Sons of Anarchy will still operate as you have been. I don't care about your club business. But seeing as I've unfortunately grown fond of a few members, I will be on the sidelines waiting to put a bitch in a ditch should they cross a line."
"And what do you consider crossing a line?" Jax asks.
"Any unprovoked kidnappings and/or torture. If you're doing business and you piss someone off, that's on you. But if anyone comes around sniffing around Charming, pushing buttons to see what the response will be, I will set my sins loose."
Jax looks around at his men, gauging their reactions. No one seems to have a word to argue against you and he comes to a conclusion pretty fast. "I can work with that."
"That's what I like to hear." You slowly smile and then smother a laugh when Juice raises a hand. "Yes?"
"What exactly does the queen of the underworld do?"
"Now that's a secret, Mr. Ortiz." You wink at him. "All the prominent families of the underworld are interconnected in a way that I can't explain to you. As of right now, I keep the peace. Or force it if need be." As you smirk, you see Juice shrink down onto a bar stool. "I also make sure the most prominent families aren't murdering anyone without cause."
"When you first came into power, you were the most feared," Happy says. "Why?"
As you look at the man, your smirk slowly vanishes. "Some of the low-class families were looking to make a name for themselves. They waited until my father was at his most vulnerable and killed him in cold blood. They ripped my heart out that day. So, when I took my father's place, I hunted each and every one of them down, and did to them what they did to me."
"Which was?" Juice asks, hanging off your every word.
"I carved their hearts and delivered them to their head of house."
"Holy shit."
No one knows what to say to that, so Jax makes use of the pool table. They crowd around the pool table and dart boards, laughing and enjoying the beer you've offered them. Some of your men even come on up, grabbing themselves a beer and mingling with the Sons.
You feel yourself being led to one of the couches by Opie and then tugged down on his lap. Sitting sideways, you cross one knee over the other and wrap your arms loosely around his neck. "Well, aren't you being a little bold tonight."
Arms around your waist, Opie tugs you closer and lightly drags his nose along your jawline to your ear. "I just watched a beautiful woman avenge my kidnapping and beating." As he moves lower, you tilt your head to give him more access to your neck, shivering when his beard tickles the area. "I think it's time we stop tiptoeing around each other and just take what we want."
"Hmm. And what do you want, Ope?"
"You."
His teeth nip at your neck, and you quietly groan, moving to capture his lips with your own. Opie gives you a moment- a moment!- to control the kiss and then he's manhandling you on his lap so you're straddling him. As your hands delve into his hair to get a good grip on, his hands slide down your ass until he grasps the back of your thighs to hitch you right where he wants you.
The wolf whistles hardly faze you and you take your time enjoying what Opie's offering you.
It isn't until you hear the chanting of, "El rey, el rey, el rey (king, king, king)," that you pull yourself back from Opie's mouth and glance at your men who stop chanting and immediately explode into cheers and whistles.
"Uhh.. what's going on?"
You glance back at Opie, taking a moment to laugh at your skeleton makeup that's smeared onto half his face, before wiping it off and explaining, "They've been patiently waiting for their reina to find her rey. Outside this compound you might be a Son, but within this compound you're about to become King." Opie slightly gapes and you wiggle your eyebrows at him. "Congratulations, Mr. Winston. Life is about to become a lot more interesting."
#opie winston x reader#opie x reader#opie winston imagine#sons of anarchy imagine#sons of anarchy fanfiction#opie winston fanfiction#sons of anarchy#opie winston#jax teller#happy lowman#juice ortiz
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Request for Chibs no.39 Blank is your dad/brother? Why didn't you tell me! Please 🤩
A little story for Chibs? I can do that for you love! Feel free to stop by again! As always my stories are 18+!
Chibs phone ringing had you both groaning in the late morning sunshine that was filtering through your blinds. "Sorry love" murmured Chibs as he kissed your spine before pulling himself out of you. Searching for his phone in the pile of clothes from last night he sighed as he saw he had missed ten calls.
Missed wasn't really the word as he purposefully had been ignoring it as he the two of you had been savoring each others bodies for hours. As he called Juice back his eyes caught a familiar face in a frame on your wall. Closing his eyes he knew he was fucked when Juice finally answered
"You really fucked up" chuckled the younger man through the phone as the sounds of metal slamming and crashing came through in the background.
"How was I suppose to know?" snapped Chibs as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Only knew he had two! he never mentioned he had a third daughter" he continued before turning to face you and pointing. "And why didn't you tell me Tig Trager was your dad?"
"You're still in her house? Damn get it Chibs" chuckled Juice before Chibs hung up.
"I mean when did you want me to mention my dad? When your face was buried in me? When I was on my knees with you in my throat? Or when you had me folded like a pretzel making me call you daddy?" you replied with a raised eyebrow. You smiled as you watched Chibs skin flush at your words.
Chibs sighed before making his way back to the bed. Your words had him riled up and he wanted nothing more than to wipe that cocky smirk from your mouth. He was already in deep with his friend he might as well keep going. Your giggles quickly turned into sweet moans as he shoved himself back inside your slick heat.
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#sons of anarchy#ravennasmasterlist#ravennasrequest#chibs telford#filip chibs telford#chins smut#sons of anarchy fanfiction#soa fanfic#chibs sons of anarchy#chibs telford imagine#chibs telford x reader#chibs x reader
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Destined Meetings
request: Hey, do you think you could write something where the reader is related to tig somehow, and they're in charming for work or college and they start a relationship with juice? Cute and a little angsty at first?
pairing: Juice Ortiz x Trager!Reader
word count: 1.9k
warnings: club crimes, reader's mom isn't the best + suggested childhood trauma, alcohol and drug (maryj) use
a/n: there will be another part for sure, but i might make this a bit of a mini-series, lmk what you think. happy reading!
Tig hardly ever talked about it, but he'd been married once. He would rather die than ever admit he loved anyone but Dawn and Fawn, but he loved her. And you, his sweet, sweet Y/n.
His heart clenched at the thought of you. You were only two years old at the time of the accident. The day your mother decided she had had enough of Tig and the life he came with and that she needed to run.
It was that day, when your mother pulled out of Charming and never looked back. She only made it two towns over before she took a reckless turn right off an overpass into oncoming traffic.
Tig could remember the look on Unser's face as he approached the older man in the TM parking lot like yesterday, and how he wished he could go back and convince your mom not to go. Or to leave you, at least.
Unser had just began working with the club back then, and this case in particular had always stuck with him. A woman trying to escape her outlaw husband with their baby daughter who ends up getting into a horrific accident that ends up killing them both? One of the saddest stories Unser had ever heard.
Except for the fact none of it was true.
Because there you stood, alive and well, right in front of the Chief's desk.
"I know it sounds crazy," you shake your head, hopeful look on your face. "I wouldn't believe it either, actually. And I don't really have any proof other than my memories, but I'm sure it's him."
The aging polaroid in you had provided him of a much younger Tig and a woman he recognizes to be your mother back when she was pregnant with you.
"No, no," he waves your worries away. "I believe you. In fact, I remember your mother, vaguely, and you look a lot like her."
You grimace. "Yeah, I've been told a few times. So do you know where I can find Alexander?"
Chief Unser pulls a pen from his shirt pocket and begins writing on a slip of paper on his desk. "This is the address of the Teller-Morrow, the automotive shop your dad works at. I would take you there myself, but I'm swamped here."
"Oh, it's no issue," you shrug and take the slip of paper. "I can get there myself. Thank you for everything, though."
You turn and begin to leave when Unser calls for you to stop.
"I forgot to mention, your dad goes by 'Tig.'"
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Juice stretched out his arms and popped his neck while he wiped his hands with a rag. Two weeks of waiting for one part was finally over, and he could get this damn Taurus out of the shop. He tossed the rag into his toolbox when a sleek black car comes rumbling into the lot.
He leaves the garage to get a closer look and notices the car is actually a classic, a well taken care of (or well restored) '69 Chevy. While he admires the car he notices you, too.
Your hair is partly clipped back, with enough loose enough to frame your face in a casual look. You're pretty, and admittedly he'd be more distracted by you but Juice can tell by the look on your face you're nervous. Juice would know, it's a look he's had to learn to hide.
By sight and sound nothing seemed to be wrong with your car, and Juice can't help but wonder why you're here.
You shut the engine off and exit your vehicle, all the while silently composing yourself. Heart thudding in your chest, you wonder if you're doing the right thing.
Juice takes the moment you shut the door to approach further.
"Hello," he greets politely, friendly smile on his face. "I'm Juice, and I'll be taking care of you today. What seems to be the problem?"
"Oh, no," you shake your head and laugh nervously. "Nothing's wrong with her. I'm actually-"
You pause, close your eyes for a second and bite the inside of your bottom lip. Juice can't help but watch you fondly, finding you oddly adorable.
Finally you open your eyes and flash a bright, genuine smile.
Damn, I'm made, he thinks.
"This is gonna sound completely insane," you explain, nervously clasping your hands together. "But, um, I'm looking for Alexa- well, no, Tig, Tig Trager."
Juice raises his brows. "Tig? Uh, I don't know if now's the best time."
It's true, he's currently in Oakland with Jax and Chibs on quick business.
"Look, I know it's inconvenient and you don't know me," you plead. You're closer now and Juice can smell your sweet perfume and practically feel your hopefulness. "But until a couple months ago I had no idea my dad was even alive. And then I found out I was here for weeks before realizing he's here, too."
Your dad? There has to be a story there. Juice raises his hands to either side of your arms, holding you still in hopes to assure you.
"It's okay," he says sternly, but in an endearing way. "Tig's not here right now but he should be soon, so let's head on inside and you can tell me a little bit about you. Just to be sure, no offense."
You smile, relieved to be believed to some extent rather than none. "Thank you, Juice. Thank you."
Juice leads you into the Teller-Morrow through the garage entrance into the larger building. From what you could see on the outside you wouldn't have imagined such a spacious clubhouse inside.
Inside were several pool tables, a couch with mini pieces about, a bar with stools, and other tables each with their own set of chairs. Decorations littered the walls and floors and you laughed to yourself as you noted a nearly full ashtray on almost every surface and a wall completely dedicated to mugshots.
Juice leads you to the bar where he gestures for you to sit as he makes his way around. You slip onto a stool and watch patiently as Juice finds two glasses and turns to you.
"What's your preference?"
You shrug, "Whatever, I'm not partial. On the rocks, though."
He serves you and pours his own drink before setting the bottle down and leaning on the bar on his elbows in front of you.
"So tell me about you," Juice presses softly. He can tell by your fingers circling the rim of your glass that you're not excited for this conversation but he has no choice. "You said you've been here for a few weeks, where'd you live before?"
"Nevada, mostly," you tell him before sipping on your drink. "My mother moved us around a couple times and we lived in Colorado for a while before eventually settling in Sparks."
"Why'd you guys move around?"
You drain the rest of your drink quickly in hopes it'll support you through this conversation. Juice begins to refill your glass without being asked.
"I didn't know it then, but my mom was running from the Sons," you confess.
Juice's eyes widen slightly as he looked you over. What could you know about the club? They were notorious around Charming sure, but with their recent run ins with the ATF has the club struggling and making choices they wouldn't normally make.
You continue, "It wasn't until I graduated high school and I left that she told me my dad was actually alive. Then she told me about the Sons of Anarchy, and everything else I did on my own."
Juice nods, unsure of what to say. He nurses his drink for a moment before reaching for your hand.
"This life is complicated, but we're a family here."
The gesture, simple as it is, riles up all the pent up feelings you've mastered all your life comes rushing forward as tears brim your eyes.
"Family," you repeat and pull your hand from Juice to wipe your tears. "What a weird concept?"
The two of you talk well into the evening and you end up migrating to the couch with a bottle and a large bowl of buttery popcorn. Juice made good company. He's genuine, gunny, and from the way he talks you can tell the Sons are something special to him.
He tells you about himself in turn for the vulnerable information you've given him. You learn he was born and raised in New York before coming to Charming, and he has a little sister behind in the city. Juice tells you he works in the TM garage alongside what he does for the club.
"I'm not stupid," you tell him once you notice his hesitance. "It's not hard to find information on the club from the locals around here."
He chuckles softly, "Yeah, I'm sure. If you have any questions, you can ask me."
Before you can the rumbling of bikes coming into the TM parking lot distracts you. Instinctively you grabbed Juice's hand, but let go just as fast as you'd grabbed him. Luckily before he can say anything the door bursts open and income more Sons.
The first is a younger blond man with piercing blue eyes and you notice the President patch on his left. He greets Juice happily before his eyes look to you, and he looks confused but seemingly brushes it off and goes to the bar.
Your dad walks in near arm in arm with another handsome man with scarred cheeks, obviously older than he is in the polaroid you own, but otherwise he seems the same. Its as if he can feel your gaze as he turns to meet his blue eyes to your own.
You stand, trying to ignore the thumping of your heart in your chest. "Hi, Tig," you greet, silently cursing the waver in your voice. Immediately the polaroid is out of your back pocket and in your hand. "My name's Y/n, and my mom's Y/m/n."
He takes the polaroid from you without a word and holds it carefully in his hands. His friend has stepped away towards Juice, likely for questioning.
"I saw Unser earlier today," you continue on. "He told me that I have a grave here in Charming, so does mom. Funny, considering she always told me you were the dead one."
You take a shaky breath in, trying to keep from bursting into tears. "I just... I wanted you to know I'm not dead, very much alive. I don't, like, expect anything from you I just knew I had to say something."
Tig finally breaks away from the polaroid to meet your eyes again, and it makes you feel a bit better to see his blue eyes are as tear filled as your own.
He raises one hand to cup your cheek, thumb moving to wipe your tears. "Losing you was the worst pain of my life," he admits softly.
His words crumble your resolve, the walls you'd spent your adolescence building to protect yourself fell faster than they were constructed. You practically fall into his arms, and the two of you break down as you hold each other.
As you sob into Tig's chest he merely cradles you the way he wishes he'd been able to all these years. The way he deserved to have been there for you. He holds you tight against him like he's afraid you'll dissipate and it'll be decades before he sees you again.
"We're gonna be okay, baby," he tells you. "We're gonna be okay."
This time, he's not going to be letting you go so easy.
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