Jax Teller (Sons of Anarchy) x fem!reader
It's your wedding day. You're still in love with Jax. Jax shows up and steals you away.
The worst part about your wedding day wasn't the dress.
It wasn't the flowers.
It wasn't the hundreds of carefully arranged white roses lining the aisle of the church.
It wasn't the expensive reception venue, the string quartet, the champagne waiting on ice, or the fact that every single guest in attendance believed they were about to witness the beginning of a beautiful future.
The worst part was that you looked stunning.
Because if you had looked terrible, maybe it would have been easier.
If your makeup had smeared..
If your hair had fallen apart..
If the dress hadn't fit perfectly..
If something had gone wrong..
Then maybe you could have blamed your unease on nerves.
Maybe you could have convinced yourself that the knot sitting in your chest was normal.
That every bride felt like she was walking toward an execution.
Instead, everything was perfect.
And you had never felt more miserable.
You stood in front of the mirror inside the bridal suite, staring at your reflection as if she were a stranger.
The woman looking back at you smiled when prompted.
She laughed when people expected it.
She accepted compliments graciously.
She looked exactly like a bride should.
But she didn't look happy.
Not really.
Not where it mattered.
Your maid of honor fussed with the veil one last time.
"You okay?"
You forced a smile.
"Of course."
A lie.
A practiced one.
The kind you'd been telling yourself for years.
The room buzzed around you.
Excitement.
Conversation.
Laughter.
The sounds seemed distant somehow.
Muted.
As though you were underwater.
Because despite everything—
despite the years that had passed—
despite the fact that you were standing minutes away from marrying a good man—
there was still only one face in your mind.
Blond hair.
Blue eyes.
A crooked smile.
The smell of leather and engine oil.
Jax Teller.
You closed your eyes.
Immediately regretted it.
Because memory hit like a punch.
You'd spent years trying to forget him.
Years.
You'd moved.
Changed jobs.
Started over.
Built an entirely different life.
You had done everything people were supposed to do when a relationship ended.
Everything except stop loving him.
That part never happened.
No matter how hard you tried.
No matter how much distance you put between yourself and Charming.
No matter how many times you told yourself it was over.
He remained.
Like a scar.
Like a ghost.
Like something stitched directly into your bones.
And God, you'd tried.
You'd tried dating other people.
You'd tried moving on.
You'd tried convincing yourself that what you and Jax had shared belonged in the past.
The problem was that nobody had ever loved you the way Jax had.
Nobody had ever looked at you like you were the answer to a question they'd spent their entire life asking.
Nobody had ever made you feel quite so alive.
Or quite so furious.
Or quite so terrified.
Or quite so loved.
Years earlier, you had walked away because loving Jax came with a cost.
Violence.
Danger.
Fear.
The constant possibility that one day you'd get a phone call telling you he wasn't coming home.
And eventually you'd reached your breaking point.
Not because you stopped loving him.
But because you loved him too much.
So you'd left.
And Jax—
for perhaps the first time in his life—
had let someone go.
Not because he wanted to.
Because he loved you too.
Enough not to stop you.
Enough to watch you walk away.
Enough to break his own heart.
You still remembered the look on his face.
You suspected you always would.
"Five minutes."
The wedding coordinator appeared in the doorway.
Everyone perked up.
Excitement surged through the room.
Your stomach dropped.
Five minutes.
Five minutes until forever.
Five minutes until you promised your life to a man who deserved your whole heart.
And would never receive it.
Because part of it still belonged to someone else.
The realization struck so hard you nearly lost your breath.
The room blurred.
Suddenly you couldn't hear anyone speaking.
Couldn't focus.
Couldn't think.
Only feel.
And what you felt was wrong.
This was wrong.
Every piece of it.
Wrong dress.
Wrong church.
Wrong future.
Wrong man.
You sat down abruptly.
Your maid of honor frowned.
"Hey."
You stared at the floor.
"What am I doing?"
Nobody answered.
Because nobody knew.
Not really.
Your fiancé was kind.
Steady.
Reliable.
Safe.
Everything Jax had never been.
He loved you.
You cared about him deeply.
But love?
The kind of love that consumed entire pieces of you?
The kind that made your heart race after years apart?
The kind that lingered in every quiet moment?
No.
Not that.
Never that.
Your maid of honor slowly sat beside you.
There was a long silence.
Then—
quietly—
she asked the question nobody else would.
"Are you still in love with him?"
The room disappeared.
Everything disappeared.
Because the answer arrived instantly.
Without hesitation.
Without confusion.
Without doubt.
"Yes."
The word cracked.
Your eyes filled immediately.
"Oh God."
Silence.
Then your maid of honor squeezed your hand.
"You should've told someone."
"I thought it'd go away."
"It didn't."
"No."
"Does he know?"
You laughed shakily.
A broken sound.
"No."
Because you hadn't spoken to Jax in nearly three years.
Not really.
A few brief conversations.
A couple accidental encounters.
Nothing substantial.
Nothing dangerous.
Nothing that would let either of you fall backward into old habits.
Into old feelings.
Into old love.
And yet.
Here you were.
A bride.
About to marry someone else.
Still hopelessly in love with him.
Outside, a motorcycle engine roared.
The sound froze every muscle in your body.
No.
No way.
Not here.
Not today.
Your heart immediately started pounding.
You knew that engine.
You knew it the way people knew their favorite song.
The way they knew their own heartbeat.
Years could pass.
You'd still know it.
The room went silent.
Someone moved toward the window.
Then froze.
"Oh my God."
Your stomach dropped.
Your maid of honor slowly stood.
"What?"
The bridesmaid looked back.
Eyes wide.
"He..."
She looked stunned.
"He what?"
"There's a biker outside."
Your pulse exploded.
No.
No.
No.
Your maid of honor walked to the window.
Peeked outside.
Then looked directly at you.
And suddenly she started laughing.
Disbelieving.
Completely shocked laughter.
"Oh my God."
"What?"
She pointed outside.
"You need to see this."
Your legs felt numb.
You stood anyway.
Walked toward the window.
Looked down.
And forgot how to breathe.
Jax.
It was Jax.
Standing beside his motorcycle.
Looking exactly like every memory you'd spent years trying to outrun.
Older.
A little rougher around the edges.
A few more lines around his eyes.
But still Jax.
Still devastating.
Still yours in every way that mattered.
His gaze lifted.
Found the window immediately.
Found you.
And just like that—
everything else disappeared.
The years.
The distance.
The heartbreak.
Gone.
Because he was looking at you exactly the same way he'd looked at you the day you'd left.
Like losing you had never stopped hurting.
Like finding you again felt impossible.
Like he loved you.
Still.
After all this time.
Still.
Your chest physically hurt.
The church door opened.
Jax started walking inside.
Chaos erupted almost immediately.
People protested.
Family members panicked.
The wedding coordinator looked seconds away from a nervous breakdown.
You barely heard any of it.
Because Jax walked through the church like a man with absolutely nothing left to lose.
And maybe he didn't.
He wore jeans.
Boots.
His kutte.
Nothing formal.
Nothing appropriate.
Nothing except complete certainty.
Every eye in the building followed him.
He never looked at anyone except you.
Not once.
The church fell silent.
Jax stopped at the end of the aisle.
And stared.
For a long moment neither of you spoke.
Neither of you moved.
The entire world seemed to hold its breath.
Then—
very quietly—
Jax said your name.
Just your name.
Nothing else.
And somehow that hurt more than anything.
Because of the way he said it.
Like a prayer.
Like a wound.
Like coming home.
Your eyes filled instantly.
"Jax."
His jaw tightened.
The same way it always did when he was emotional and trying not to show it.
"You look beautiful."
You laughed through tears.
Because of course that was the first thing he'd say.
Of course.
Then his eyes dropped briefly.
To the dress.
The veil.
The wedding.
And for the first time you saw uncertainty.
Pain.
Fear.
Real fear.
The possibility that he might be too late.
That terrified him.
You could see it.
"I shouldn't be here," he admitted.
The church remained silent.
Nobody dared interrupt.
"I know that."
You couldn't speak.
Couldn't move.
Couldn't breathe.
Jax swallowed hard.
Then looked directly at you.
And everything inside you shattered.
Because his voice broke.
Just slightly.
Just enough.
"I tried."
The words echoed.
"I tried to stay away."
Tears slid down your cheeks.
"I know."
"I told myself you were happy."
Your heart twisted.
"I wanted you to be."
More tears.
More pain.
More love.
Always love.
"I figured if you were marrying him..." His voice cracked. "Then maybe he'd figured out how to make you happier than I ever could."
The church disappeared.
Nothing existed except him.
"I stayed away."
He laughed once.
Humorless.
Painful.
"I stayed away right up until yesterday."
Your pulse hammered.
"Then what happened?"
Jax looked at you.
And the honesty in his eyes nearly destroyed you.
"I heard your wedding was today."
Silence.
"And?"
He took a breath.
A shaky one.
The kind you'd never heard from him before.
Then:
"I couldn't do it."
The confession hung between you.
Raw.
Exposed.
Real.
"I couldn't let you marry somebody else without telling you."
You were crying openly now.
Jax didn't seem to care.
Neither did anyone else.
"I love you."
The words landed like thunder.
Gasps echoed somewhere behind him.
You didn't hear them.
Couldn't.
Because Jax kept talking.
"I still love you."
Your knees nearly gave out.
Years.
Three years.
And there it was.
Unchanged.
Untouched.
Still alive.
Still burning.
"I tried not to."
A small laugh escaped him.
Broken.
Hopeless.
"Christ, I tried."
Your entire body shook.
"Jax..."
"I know I shouldn't be here."
He took a step forward.
Then another.
"I know this is selfish."
Another step.
"I know this is unfair."
Closer.
"But if you walk down that aisle..."
His voice failed.
For a moment he couldn't continue.
Then he forced himself to.
"...I'll spend the rest of my life wondering if I should've fought harder for you."
Silence.
Complete silence.
Then Jax held out his hand.
The same hand you'd held a thousand times.
The same hand you'd dreamed about.
The same hand you'd never truly let go of.
His eyes never left yours.
"Come with me."
Your breath caught.
Everything stopped.
Every voice.
Every thought.
Every fear.
Come with me.
Not marry me.
Not choose me.
Come with me.
Simple.
Honest.
Terrifying.
And suddenly you knew.
You'd always known.
The answer had never changed.
Not once.
Not in three years.
Not in a hundred.
You loved him.
That was the truth.
Messy.
Complicated.
Impossible.
But true.
You loved him.
And he loved you.
Your fiancé stood.
The movement pulled your attention briefly.
You looked at him.
Really looked.
And somehow he already knew.
Sadness filled his expression.
But not surprise.
Just understanding.
He gave a small nod.
As though he'd seen this coming before you had.
And that hurt.
Because he deserved better.
You walked toward him first.
Tears streaming down your face.
"I'm sorry."
He smiled sadly.
"I know."
More tears.
More guilt.
More heartbreak.
But beneath it all—
certainty.
For the first time all day.
Certainty.
Then you turned.
Toward Jax.
Toward the man who'd ruined you for everyone else.
Toward the love of your life.
Toward home.
And took his hand.
The second your fingers touched, Jax closed his eyes.
Just briefly.
Relief.
Disbelief.
Gratitude.
All visible.
Then he laughed.
A genuine laugh.
The kind you hadn't heard in years.
And suddenly you were laughing too.
Crying and laughing and completely falling apart.
"Hi," he said.
You stared at him.
"Hi."
He looked at the dress.
Then at you.
Then grinned.
"Stealin' a bride wasn't exactly my plan."
You laughed through tears.
"Sure it wasn't."
"Okay."
His grin widened.
"Maybe a little."
For the first time all day, your heart felt light.
Actually light.
And that told you everything.
Jax squeezed your hand.
"Ready?"
You looked around the church one final time.
At the wedding that almost happened.
At the life you almost chose.
Then back at him.
At your future.
At the man you'd never stopped loving.
And smiled.
"Yeah."
Together, you walked out.
Straight past the flowers.
Past the guests.
Past the expectations.
Past the life that was never really yours.
Outside, sunlight flooded the church steps.
Jax's motorcycle waited at the curb.
You stared.
Then started laughing.
"No."
"What?"
"I am not climbing onto a motorcycle in a wedding dress."
His grin turned wicked.
"You absolutely are."
"Jax."
"C'mon, sweetheart."
You rolled your eyes.
Then climbed on anyway.
Because some things never changed.
Jax settled in front of you.
Your arms wrapped around his waist automatically.
Familiar.
Natural.
Right.
He covered your hands with his.
For a moment neither of you moved.
Neither of you spoke.
The world seemed strangely quiet.
Then Jax turned his head slightly.
Just enough for you to hear him.
"I missed you."
Your throat tightened.
"I missed you too."
He nodded once.
As if that was all he needed.
Then started the engine.
The ride back to Charming was surreal.
Partly because you were still wearing a wedding dress.
Partly because you'd just walked out of your own wedding.
Mostly because every time the motorcycle stopped at a light, you found yourself staring at the back of Jax's head and thinking:
I actually did it.
You'd chosen him.
After years.
After heartbreak.
After convincing yourself it was impossible.
You'd chosen him.
And every time that realization hit, your grip around his waist tightened.
Jax noticed every single time.
You knew he did.
Because his hand would leave the handlebars for just a second to squeeze yours where they rested against his stomach.
A silent reassurance.
A silent I'm here.
Neither of you talked much.
There wasn't much to say.
Not yet.
The conversation waiting for you was too big.
Too emotional.
Too overwhelming.
So instead you simply held on while California rolled past around you and for the first time in years your chest didn't hurt when you thought about the future.
It was terrifying.
And wonderful.
And completely insane.
Which was probably why it fit Jax so perfectly.
The second the clubhouse came into view, you knew something was wrong.
Motorcycles.
Too many motorcycles.
The parking lot was packed.
People standing outside.
Club members.
Prospects.
Crowds.
Movement everywhere.
You frowned.
"What the hell?"
Jax groaned.
Actually groaned.
"Oh no."
"What?"
His head tipped back briefly.
"Word got out."
Your stomach dropped.
"Oh God."
"Yeah."
"Oh God."
"Yeah."
The motorcycle rolled into the lot.
Everything stopped.
Literally everything.
Conversations died.
People froze.
Heads turned.
Someone dropped a beer.
And suddenly dozens of eyes landed on you.
Specifically—
on the woman sitting behind Jax Teller.
Still wearing a wedding dress.
The silence lasted approximately two seconds.
Then absolute chaos erupted.
"NO FUCKING WAY!"
"You actually did it!"
"HOLY SHIT!"
"I TOLD YOU HE WOULD!"
"What happened to the groom?!"
Laughter exploded across the lot.
Someone nearly fell off a picnic table.
You buried your face in your hands immediately.
"Oh my God."
Jax was laughing so hard he could barely park.
"Sweetheart."
"I hate all of you."
"You don't even know what they're saying yet."
"I can hear them."
The bike finally stopped.
Before either of you could dismount, the clubhouse door burst open.
And out stormed half of SAMCRO.
Leading the charge was Tig.
Which immediately felt like a bad sign.
Tig stopped dead.
Looked at the wedding dress.
Looked at Jax.
Looked back at the wedding dress.
Then screamed:
"YOU STOLE THE FUCKING BRIDE!"
The entire lot erupted.
Jax laughed.
You laughed.
Everyone laughed.
Except Tig, who looked genuinely emotional about the situation.
"This is the most romantic thing that's ever happened here."
"It's definitely not," Chibs said.
"It absolutely is."
"It isn't."
"It is."
"You cried when Gemma got a new dog."
"THAT DOG HAD A HEART CONDITION."
The argument immediately spiraled.
You stood beside Jax completely stunned.
And then Chibs approached.
The older Scot looked between the two of you.
Then grinned.
A genuinely delighted grin.
"About bloody time."
Jax laughed.
You smiled.
Chibs pulled you into a hug before you could react.
The warmth of it nearly made you emotional.
Because despite everything—
the years away—
the heartbreak—
they'd never really stopped considering you family.
"Good to have ye back, lass."
Your eyes stung unexpectedly.
"Thanks."
A rough voice appeared behind you.
"Nice dress."
You turned.
Happy.
Of course it was Happy.
He looked exactly the same.
Terrifying.
Expressionless.
Holding a beer.
"Thanks."
Happy nodded.
Then pointed at Jax.
"Took him long enough."
You barked out a laugh.
Jax looked offended.
"Oh, screw you."
Happy drank his beer.
"Three years."
"Okay."
"Could've been faster."
"Happy."
"Just saying."
The next hour was insanity.
Questions.
Celebrations.
Laughter.
Drinks appearing from nowhere.
Stories being invented before you could correct them.
Apparently by the time you'd arrived:
someone had already claimed Jax punched the groom.
Someone else insisted there'd been a sword fight.
Tig was telling anyone who would listen that Jax had ridden directly into a church through stained-glass windows.
None of it was remotely true.
Nobody cared.
You ended up sitting on one of the worn couches inside the clubhouse while everyone continued losing their minds around you.
Your veil had long since disappeared.
Nobody knew where it went.
Juice had somehow acquired wedding cake despite there being no wedding cake present.
Chibs was taking bets on how long it would take before Gemma found out.
And through all of it—
Jax couldn't stop looking at you.
Every time you glanced up, his eyes were already there.
Following you.
Watching you.
Like he still couldn't believe you'd actually come with him.
Like he was worried you'd disappear if he looked away too long.
Eventually you caught him staring again.
A soft smile pulled at your mouth.
"What?"
His expression softened.
"Nothin'."
"Liar."
A slow grin appeared.
"You really came."
The simplicity of the statement hit harder than it should have.
Because beneath it was something vulnerable.
Something scared.
A fear he'd been carrying all day.
The possibility you'd say no.
The possibility he'd lose you again.
You reached for his hand.
Immediately.
Without thinking.
His fingers closed around yours.
"I came."
The tension left his shoulders instantly.
And suddenly he looked years younger.
Lighter.
Like a man who'd finally stopped carrying something heavy.
Hours later the clubhouse finally began settling down.
People drifted away.
Conversations quieted.
The chaos faded.
Until eventually only a handful of members remained.
And somehow you found yourself upstairs.
Standing inside Jax's room.
Alone together for the first time all day.
Silence settled between you.
Comfortable.
Warm.
Real.
The distant sounds of the clubhouse drifted through the floorboards.
You stared at yourself in the mirror.
The dress suddenly felt absurd.
A relic from another life.
Another future.
One that no longer existed.
Jax appeared behind you.
His reflection meeting yours.
Neither of you spoke for a moment.
Then he reached up carefully.
Slowly.
Giving you every opportunity to stop him.
His fingers found the zipper at the back of the gown.
Your breath caught.
Not from nervousness.
From emotion.
Because this wasn't about seduction.
Wasn't about anything physical.
It felt symbolic somehow.
Like shedding the last piece of a life you'd almost chosen.
His voice was quiet.
"You okay?"
You met his eyes in the mirror.
And smiled.
A real smile.
One you hadn't worn all day.
"Yeah."
The zipper slid down.
The tension in your chest seemed to unravel with it.
Slowly.
Gently.
Patiently.
Jax helped you out of the dress.
No rush.
No pressure.
Just careful hands and soft eyes.
When the gown finally pooled around your feet, both of you looked down at it.
The white fabric spread across the floor.
Beautiful.
And no longer yours.
For a moment neither of you moved.
Then Jax disappeared toward a dresser.
He returned holding a black shirt.
One of his.
Soft from years of wear.
Smelling faintly of laundry detergent, leather, and him.
Your heart squeezed.
"Here."
You took it.
Something about that simple gesture nearly made you cry.
Because after the insanity of the day—
after the church—
after the motorcycle—
after running away—
this felt strangely intimate.
Not the dress coming off.
The shirt.
The fact that he wanted you comfortable.
Wanted you to feel at home.
Wanted you to have something that belonged to him.
You pulled it on.
The fabric swallowed you immediately.
Falling to mid-thigh.
The sleeves far too long.
You looked down at yourself.
Then up at him.
Jax froze.
Completely.
His expression becoming almost comically lovestruck.
You started laughing.
"What?"
His hand covered his mouth.
"Oh, that's dangerous."
"What is?"
"You wearing my clothes."
You rolled your eyes.
His grin widened.
"You look perfect."
The compliment was so sincere it made your chest ache.
You walked toward him.
Slowly.
Until there was no space left between you.
Then rested your forehead against his.
The room was quiet.
The world was quiet.
For the first time all day, everything felt still.
Jax's arms wrapped around you carefully.
Like he was holding something precious.
Something he'd gotten back after believing it was gone forever.
"I love you," he murmured.
The words were simple.
No grand speech.
No dramatic declaration.
Just truth.
Steady and certain.
You closed your eyes.
And smiled.
"I love you too."
His arms tightened instantly.
And for the first time since you'd walked into that church that morning, everything felt exactly right.
