bitch cat

what the fuck was 2020

[relatablepig]

THIS is how you age when you're unproblematic, keep out of the media in regards to bs drama, stay off social media, and are overall a genuinely nice and happy person who is just doing what they love.

Hayden, some star wars fans owe you a seriously big apology because you simply made the prequels your own and brought this character to life so effortlessly and in a way no one else could. (At a friggin young age, too). He did one hell of a job with this character and received so much backlash for it, and for him to return to this character over a decade later and play him even better than before... it says a lot.

I hope he knows now just how big of an impact he and Anakin/Vader have on this community, and how his appearances in any of the star wars projects are what draws most viewers in. He made his time in the star wars series his own in a way and that is why he will continue to receive so much support from the fans who notice it.

Beyond thrilled to see him portray this character we hold so closely to our hearts again, and flawlessly at that.

I could go on, but I just needed to get some of this out because it was literally keeping me up l o l.

[talesofanemerald]

Where all the dominant y/n fics???? I'm tired of not f*cking back, being weak, being a "good girl" and "a pretty princess". Sure, that's all fine and dandy and hot and stuff. But where are the dominant y/n fics? Reader on top, choking him, making him whimper and cry out? Let me call him "my sweet boy". Where's the variation in kinks? C'mon now, I wanna be strong, too.

[elliesmoth]

I wanna kiss his beautiful lips omfg

[resident-kennedy49]

Plus One // SFW Leon Kennedy x fem!reader

Summary: Your ex invites you to his wedding. Showing up alone would only prove him right all those years ago, but he deserves a kick in the brass cojones. Leon's nothing if not an enabler.

WC: 6k

CW: fake dating, established friendship as coworkers, nicknames, no use of y/n, no mention of ages, fluff, bad fish puns, mild angst/comfort, first kiss (real), happy ending

The mission is finally over. You know this because your desk is a fucking mess.

Printouts and clippings and folders lay thick enough to suffocate, and you’re still receiving tidbits and snippets that need to be sorted and distributed. You’ve lost your breakfast bar under the same newspaper, twice, in two different locations as you shuffle and juggle and group and discard.

The discard needs to be happening faster. Your waste bin is the cleanest thing in your cubicle.

Your finger traces under a line of text on page #3 of relevant dossier #7, transcribing it into your report one-handed, eyes intent on your computer screen. You’ve got earbuds in with box-fan white noise cranked to drown out the office phones and low-grade chatter from surrounding cubes. You’re already running your brain in ten different directions, working on your report while compiling documentation to share with the field agents for their reports, and they keep pinging your IM, hounding you for updates. You wish you could set your status to something more abrasive than “🔴 Do Not Disturb”.

On the one hand, you understand how the quick turnaround on mission reports means a direct tap into memory while it’s still fresh, but on the other – you’re all fucking exhausted, some of you are injured, and this feels a little bit like friendly fire. Especially when you’re the intelligence agent and your field operatives are all tugging on your metaphorical shirt hem, whining for your attention.

Something brushes your ear and you slap at it, whipping your head around. Of course you’d have a fly buzzing around your cubicle, now, too.

It’s not a fly. Leon Kennedy just took out one of your earbuds.

You clutch at your chest, the shock of finding an entire person standing behind you making your skin feel like it teleported 1cm to the left without you.

“You weren’t hearing me,” he says by way of an apology. You snatch the earbud back.

“That’s the POINT.”

“You said that info was on a thumb drive?”

“I said it will be,” you say, frazzled. “I’ve got like twenty balls in the air right now, Leon. Don’t break my concentration.”

“Can I help with anything?”

“Respect the status,” you snap, referring to the Do Not Disturb designation that he had bypassed by showing up in person.

Your tone echoes back in your ears and you shut your eyes, sighing and rubbing at a spot on your forehead. You can feel a monumental headache building, but that’s no reason to be nasty. Leon’s under the same tight deadlines.

“Sorry.”

“I get it,” he says, picking up the empty wrapper from your breakfast bar and transferring it to your trash can. There’s a deep scratch on his arm, gummy and raw, held shut with butterfly closures.

“I’ll have it ready by EOD,” you say, pronouncing the acronym like it’s a word. Ee-odd. It’s an olive branch poking up through the hellfire: an inside joke between the two of you. The corner of his mouth stretches into that half-smile.

“Roger, Earworm.”

The bastard thinks it’s a funny nickname: always the voice in my ear. And it is funny, because it was never mean-spirited. Some of the other field operatives get borderline malicious with their interpersonal nicknames.

You toss a balled-up paper at him; he twists and it bounces off his hip.

“So fuck off, Toothskin.”

When you’d first thrown that one back at him you’d won one of his genuine laughs, the kind you only got when you really surprised him. Always making it by the skin of your teeth.

A trainee had said once that your nicknames sounded mean, that they made you sound like unhygienic trolls or rotted goblins. They’d suggested something like Angel and Lucky instead, because it was sentimentally the same thing and positivity would strengthen your team dynamic.

Three guesses if they’d ever completed the program.

You’d never told Leon about that lunch room conversation. You didn’t need to watch him die laughing.

In your cubicle, his smile stretches a little wider, then he glances at his watch. Cursing under his breath, he leaves at an urgent clip. You’re already facing your computer again with your stolen earbud crammed back in.

The silent ticking of the clock remains deafening.

You love the sounds of coming home after a long day, but tonight it all sounds especially serene.

The thump of your shoes, kicked off carelessly in the foyer.

The shf of stiff fabric shed from your tired body, the blissful whisper of well-worn, downy-soft pajamas slipping over your skin.

The delicate clink of a wineglass; the full-throated cascade of a generous pour.

You take a heavy sip and lean against your kitchen island, closing your eyes and releasing a long breath. God. Trapped at your desk all day and then six hundred interceptions when you were finally allowed to leave? You felt like a fucking running back making a mad dash for the endzone. The night air had never tasted so sweet, once you'd finally made it through the doors.

Your oven makes a series of quiet clicks, coming back up to temperature. Even if dinner’s just thawed leftovers, again, you’d set yourself up for something fresh, too, because you fucking deserve it. You’re already starting to smell it. You take another sip of wine and smile.

And then you remember. It strikes you like a horrible bolt of lightning.

At the same time, your phone starts ringing on the countertop.

Incoming Call Toothskin

“Fuck!”

You want to throw your wineglass. How the fuck did you forget? > Answer

“Fuck, Leon, I’m so sorry, I completely fucked it–“

“Hey, whoa,” he says, but you’re still talking.

"It’s in my fucking bag, I was on my way to drop it off and I got–“

He says your name; you barely hear it.

“Fuck! I can’t believe I just fucking walked out– I’ll come drop it off, okay? I can– I’ll just … shit, the fucking oven–"

"HEY," he says, raising his voice. "I’m already in the car. What’s your location?"

When Leon knocks at your door, you swing it open and then hurry back into the house like a reverse doorbell-ditch. He blinks, hand still raised in a frozen knock.

“Just come in!” You shout over the beeping of the kitchen timer.

Leon steps inside and closes the door softly behind himself, looking around.

You hadn’t turned on any lights in the front hall; the kitchen sits as a literal light at the end of the tunnel. Leon clocks your tumbled shoes under your hanging coats, the splay of your keys on the side table where you’d tossed them. Ready to be fucking done with the day. Despite the dark, the front hall is cozy. Your coats hold whispers of your perfume. There’s a hint of clean laundry and an undercurrent of something more complex, almost earthy; the house smells lived in. By you.

It also, overwhelmingly, smells like fresh bread.

You’re setting the steaming, crackling loaf on a cooling rack and slapping the oven gloves off of your hands when Leon wanders into the light of your kitchen.

"I didn’t know you baked,” he says, eyes on the dark golden crust, split open where you’d scored the dough.

"Not really mission-critical information," you say, and pull open your work bag that you’ve hauled onto the kitchen island. Digging around, you find the thumb drive, but it’s tumbled into the bottom next to another thumb drive that looks identical.

Neither are labeled.

"Of fucking course," you mutter, pulling out your laptop with jerky, frustrated motions. It clacks against the countertop; you stab the power button to boot it up. “What’s ten more hours, right?”

Leon doesn’t respond. He’s assessing: you, first and foremost, strung out and self-disparaging; the kitchen, dishes in the sink, scattered messes all over; the fridge door, covered in novelty magnets and a dry-erase calendar; the corkboard on the wall.

His attention snags.

Among photos and receipts and postcards (two are from him, brought back from some vibrantly unpleasant mission locations, as a joke), incongruously, there’s a large champagne-gold envelope with a broken wax seal, clearly torn open with some violence.

It’s stabbed into the corkboard with a paring knife.

You toss one of the thumb drives back into your bag and shove the correct one towards Leon across the kitchen island.

"Bingo," you say, then catch what he’s looking at. He gestures to it.

“Jury duty?”

You know he clocks your dark expression before you 180 into something that matches his jesting tone.

“Yeah the circuit court jumped on the discounted stationary when Party City closed.”

“You hate weddings that much?”

“It’s my fucking ex,” you say venomously, picking up your wine glass. “I almost have half a mind to show up just to congratulate him on the brass cojones. Maybe give him a swift kick in them.”

“Sounds like you should.”

“He’d get too much satisfaction from my missing plus-one,” you mutter. “Like aw, your job couldn’t make it tonight? Dickknuckle,” you add under your breath.

Leon’s watching you, a faint crease between his brows.

“What?”

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” he starts, and your brow creases. “Do you want a plus-one?”

You chuff a laugh, but he doesn’t smile, so you drop yours.

“What, like you know a guy?”

“No. Like I am a guy.”

Your eyebrows lift.

“You want to attend my ex’s wedding.”

“If it means mission success in the swift-kick department, sure,” he says. You narrow your eyes.

“You don’t even know the guy.”

He glances at the stabbed envelope on the corkboard. The blade is lodged; you'd used some force.

“I trust your judgement.”

You cross your arms, searching for a teasing twinkle in his eye, a telltale twitch of his mouth, but he’s just gazing back at you levelly.

“You’re serious,” you realize.

“Always am.”

“Please,” you scoff, but you uncross your arms and reach for your bread knife, throwing him a sidelong glance. Considering. “I’ll think about it.”

He picks up the thumb drive, tosses it in the air and catches it.

“Do that,” he says. “I’ll let myself out.”

“Wait,” you call after him, and he backs up to lean through the kitchen doorway. Wordlessly, you hold out a thick, steaming slice of the fresh bread. “For the trouble.”

He takes it.

He’s halfway to the front door when you hear him groan loud, almost obscene.

“Fuck that’s good.”

The front door closes.

His voice echoes in your ears for a while. Your cheeks are only pink from the heat of the kitchen; you turn and shut the oven off.

Earworm The mission, should you choose to accept it:

A photo loads into the text thread and Leon taps it open.

It’s the wedding invite. There’s a narrow slit bisecting the date, the same width as a paring knife blade.

He skims the details.

Mid-July. Out of state. Outdoors, in a nature preserve. Strictly formal, but no black or white dress.

He eyes the font, the thick textured paper with raw, ripped edges, the embossed leaf detailing.

It’s a vegan menu, isn’t it, he texts back.

Earworm Pescetarian

He snorts. Another text drops in from you.

Earworm You can plant the invite. Grows forget-me-nots

Of course it does.

Earworm Thought about wearing white but they might have me shot

There’s strength in numbers.

Earworm Enabler

Is this not Operation Rock The Boat?

Earworm Can’t rock it if we’re kicked out. Game plan is malicious compliance

… you’re putting me in a dress, aren’t you.

Earworm Hmm. Tempting.

There’s a fucking chandelier in the fitting room.

Under the sparkling, crystalline light, surrounded by three floor-to-ceiling mirrors, you take in your chosen battle dress from every angle.

“Yeah, that’ll do it,” you say out loud.

“You’re done already?” Leon’s voice is muffled, closed in another cubicle across the wide, thin carpet.

“It’s a slip dress,” you call back. “Not many fastenings to tangle with.”

It’s an avocado green slip dress, silky and alluring, with thin shoulder straps and a scoopy cowl neck. It’s definitely your shade. It highlights your freckles and your eyes; it shows off your arms, your collarbones, your neck. What it doesn’t reveal, it hints at, like a prize behind a curtain.

You turn again to admire the back. It’s a lot of cake to be bringing to someone else’s wedding, but he invited it.

You step out into the main space. There are more chandeliers overhead and a mirrored sort of apse at the end of the carpeted runway.

You can hear clothing rustling behind the door of the fitting room directly across from you.

“Sure you can manage all those buttons?”

The door opens and Leon’s there, looking down to fix the lay of his lapels.

“Not quite my kryptonite, but thank–“

He looks up and forgets what he's saying. Forgets where he's going, too. He stands frozen outside his fitting room, just staring at you.

That’s okay; you’re staring at him, too.

The last time you’d seen him in a suit, you were behind a desk watching a grainy, quarter-screen, black-and-white camera feed. That had had very little impact.

This? This has impact. It’s punched your stomach into a somersault.

This suit is camel-brown, the dress shirt a pastel green. The cut of the suit accentuates his broad shoulders, his tight waist; the pants make his legs look longer. The shirt brings out the green in his grey eyes, makes his skin – his lips – look a little pinker.

You were already well aware of how handsome he is, in a rugged, untouchable, dangerous Special Agent sort of way. But he’s standing here in the suit that you picked to compliment your dress and you can’t remember anyone looking more fucking attractive ever in your entire life.

And the way he always carries himself with that self-assuredness, like nothing could ever bowl him over?

He’s staring at you, and he’s looking a little bowled over.

The moment is gone just as quickly as it arrived. He pushes his hand through his hair and the unflappable Leon is back.

“Don’t you clean up nice.”

You shut your mouth with a click.

“Speak for yourself,” you say, heading for the mirrors at the end of the runway. He follows you, standing just behind your shoulder.

The two of you are a fucking one-two knockout. You look so good together, you can’t face it for more than a few blinding seconds before your chest starts feeling tight.

You sit down heavily on one of the velvet chairs between fitting room doors and manage not to put your head in your hands. Leon looks down at himself, smoothing a hand over the buttons of his suit.

“You don’t like it.”

"No, it’s fucking perfect," you bite out.

"What’s wrong?"

"This whole thing is ridiculous. I’m being ridiculous." You're short on breath. You can feel panic rising, tight bands around your lungs. You do put your head in your hands, clutching at your hair to stop the tremble in your fingers.

"Hey," he says, crouching down in front of you. "Where’s this coming from?"

"Why am I dragging you into this? I don’t care about him or what he thinks! I don’t care!"

"I volunteered," Leon reminds you.

"Why?"

He does the facial equivalent of a shrug.

"No bioweapons? Open bar? You tell me.”

You unclench your fists from your hair and sit back to look at him, your head against the wall. He meets your gaze, calm and even.

He’s so fucking beautiful. You can’t let on about the gymnastics routine your stomach’s doing.

“If his brother's there, don't rule out bioweapons,” you say.

“Mm. BO?”

You shake your head. “GI.”

“Noted. Book of matches for a quick escape.”

You close your eyes, huffing a little laugh through your nose.

“We’re not locked into anything,” he tells you quietly. “You’re calling the shots.”

“Mm,” you acknowledge, and take a deep breath. “Just another mission.”

“With free dinner.”

Something lands on your knee and you open your eyes; it’s Leon’s hand, palm-up. A question. An offering.

You give him a pained look.

“It’s pescetarian.”

“Could be a red herring.”

Your gaze goes wooden. He raises his eyebrows, innocent.

“Ugh, I hate you,” you say, but clap your hand into his waiting palm. He hauls you to your feet. And he’s not done.

"A bait-and-switch?"

"Stop," you groan, shoving him towards his fitting room.

"A shell game.”

"Ignoring you!" The door to your fitting room shuts and you start wriggling out of the dress.

You almost rip it when Leon yells FISH from across the way and you fall into helpless laughter.

Toothskin Have you checked the registry?

I’m liking the 200-year-old sourdough starter

Toothskin Old yeast… what milestone anniversary is that?

200th. Keep up

And then the day arrives.

Leon puts the Porsche in park and you both sit back, observing the battlefield.

The nature preserve vista stretches vast beyond the front bumper, all dappled sunlight and swaying greens with scatters of bright, energetic color. The sky is a vibrant blue and dotted with cotton-puff clouds, the birds are singing, and there’s enough of a breeze to prevent stagnant air without upsetting meticulous hairstyles. It’s a perfect day in a gorgeous setting.

You’re clutching the invite, unawares, and the heat and moisture from your hands has warped the textured paper. Leon glances down and gently tugs it from your grasp.

“Talk to me.”

“I’m just… trying to remember the last time I saw him.”

“On the Save the Date.”

“Heard him, then. I’m trying to remember what he said to me.”

“Do you think he remembers?”

“No.”

“Blank slate, then,” Leon says, glancing in the rearview. Guests are meandering towards the gap in the low, rustic wooden fence, trickling into the sanctuary. “What are your boundaries?”

“What?”

“As your date. We covered our story; what’s your stance on PDA?”

“Oh.” You wave it off. “I don’t expect you to do anything.”

He scoffs, incredulous. “We’re at a wedding, as a couple, and you look like that,” he says, indicating your whole look with a pointed raise of his eyebrows. “You want people to think you’re dating a eunuch?”

You stare at him like you’re going to fire something back, but there’s nothing in the chamber. He’s disarmed you. Maybe fried your circuitry a little.

“Here,” he prompts, and holds his hand out over the gear shift. “Do you like holding hands with a partner?”

You can’t be this flustered. He’s just gathering intel for the undercover operation. This is tactical.

You take his hand, feigning nothing but mild agreement while your traitorous pulse picks up.

“Sure, it’s fine.”

He adjusts, lacing your fingers together, watching your face.

“Still fine?”

“Still fine.” His palm is warm and rough, callouses at the base of every finger from intensive strength training. His thumb lightly strokes your hand.

“If I touch your back?”

You tamp down a shiver, keeping your voice neutral.

“Fine, from the waist up.”

“Your hair?”

“Why my hair?”

He gently frees his hand, brushes his fingers over your ear like he’s fixing a windblown lock.

“Okay, yeah, that’s fine.”

He traces his thumb from your temple down to your jaw, delineating the side of your face.

“Is this okay to kiss?”

Despite the car still running and the AC blowing, your skin is hot and buzzing and you’re feeling that tight panic start to threaten your lungs again. It’s too close and intimate in here. You swat his hand away.

“Look, I know you’re good at reading a room, okay? So I’ll trust you. Just don’t fucking grope me in front of the bride’s grandma and I think we’ll be fine.”

“Killjoy.”

You sharpen on him. He just blinks at you owlishly, unthreatened.

You poke him in the side, where you know he’s sensitive. He clamps his arm down and jerks away.

“Alright, roger! No show for grandma!”

It pokes you back, right in the funny bone. You collapse into laughter, forehead pressed into his shoulder, and the bands around your chest loosen.

When you recover, he’s still smiling quietly, smug. You give him a shove, then double check your makeup in the visor mirror.

“Alright, let’s go, before all the worst seats are taken.”

The ceremony is gorgeous.

The altar stands under the strong, reaching branches of an ancient oak, in a serene forest clearing bordered by flickering tea lights in pristine mason jars. The bride looks Barbie-perfect in her flawless bright white dress, and the groom – your ex – is practically glowing himself. She’s probably got him on a juice detox, yoga regimen and seventeen-step skincare routine. But it’s working.

They look beautiful together, and hopelessly in love.

Your hands have knotted in your lap and your jaw is clenched tight.

You’re not jealous.

Well. You’re not jealous of her for who she’s marrying. You might be jealous of… everything else.

Something touches your wrist. It’s Leon, and just the warmth of his fingers on your skin dissolves your acidity.

Your hands unknot as Leon slips his fingers in with yours, his palm a warm and comfortable weight. You hook your free hand loose at his elbow, hugging his arm, and he leans in to press a kiss to your temple, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. You lean into it.

At the end of the ceremony, the freshly-minted husband and wife make a bottleneck that guests have to pass through on their way to the reception tent. You’re in line, wondering when ‘congratulations’ will stop sounding like a real word.

There are only seven people in line ahead of you. You’re breathing even, because you’re not anxious. You’re fine.

“Should I tell him he’s got a seed in his hair?” Leon’s speaking low right next to your ear, his eyes on the man in front of you in line. You refocus; it’s the type of seed that travels on the wind with a bit of fluff, like a dandelion. The guy’s hair is dark enough that it’s not hard to spot.

You turn your head to speak in Leon’s ear.

“No. Ten he’ll never notice.”

He smirks.

“Fifteen his wife won’t, either.”

Five people ahead of you.

“Bad bet, she’s hardly looked at him since they stood up. Twenty it’s a random stranger that tells him.”

“Bad bet, you’re a random stranger,” he says, his breath tickling your ear.

Three people ahead of you. You’re biting back a smile.

“Damn.”

Leon’s hand hasn’t left your waist.

“You came!”

Your ex lights up when he sees you next in line, and you’re even more surprised when he goes in for the hug. Leon feels you move towards it on rote and lets you go; the hug is light and short-lived. Your ex’s frame seems smaller than you remember, but maybe that’s because you’ve had Leon glued to your hip. He’s taller than your ex, maybe all in the swoop of his bronze hair, but he’s definitely… bigger.

“God, you look incredible,” your ex is saying, but there’s no depth or heat to it. It sounds just like it would if you were two former friends that hadn’t seen each other in almost a decade, and that hits you… strangely. You were lovers, for fuck’s sake, you were together for more than three years! Why did he invite you here if it wasn’t to gloat? To rub all this in your face? You hadn’t separated on good terms, but there isn’t a shred of animosity you’re getting from him right now. He truly just seems happy to see you.

And, annoyingly, that comes as a relief even while it stumbles you. It’s like you were holding the end of a wire at tension only to find it wasn’t attached to anything. You can’t help but feel a little childish about it, but in your defense, the wedding invite completely out of the blue? That was a crazy thoughtless move. How many other exes had been invited today, and how many had shown? How many other invites were still stabbed into a corkboard somewhere?

So maybe you’ve stretched your legs for nothing. His cojones aren’t brass, he’s just kinda dumb. And you know what? Good for him.

You return to Leon’s bubble and his hand is right back at your waist, casually possessive. You wind your arm around his back while you enthuse – and it is genuine – how stunning and happy the bride and groom look together. Your ex pulls his new wife close and kisses the side of her face, then gestures to Leon.

“And who’s your lucky gentleman?”

Leon lets you introduce him – you're calling the shots – shaking hands before settling in against you again, and you can feel his attention’s on you. You can see them seeing something on his face and you look up at him.

Your tummy backflips.

His eyes are so soft and fond, looking between yours. There’s a shade of something that looks like pride, too, and you wonder if he can feel that the fight’s left your body.

He kisses your forehead, then offers the bride and groom another congrats and beautiful ceremony and we’ll see you inside, opening your exit. You walk out together from the shade of the forest, into the July sun, and the light breeze greets you smelling sweet and hot and floral.

When you’re out of earshot, he speaks.

“What’s our sitrep?”

You sigh, defeated.

“You wanna go, don’t you.”

“Why do you say that?”

“You signed on for violence.”

“Maybe at first.” The two of you have to break to walk apart on an uneven stretch of path, so he takes your hand instead. “We leave now, what’re the optics?”

“A shellfish allergy.”

“Weak,” he heckles. He’s right. Leaving now would look suspicious.

You tug his hand, grimly indicating the reception tent when he meets your gaze.

“That’s the hot zone. Last chance to run.”

He rolls his shoulders, cracks his neck, tightens the lace of your fingers together.

“I don’t give up that easy.”

“How did you two meet?”

Of course, as soon as the seat beside Leon vacates one ass, this one drops into it. You remember her from Thanksgivings and Christmases with your ex’s family, and here she is again with that ominous glint in her eye, wine glass already in hand. You grip Leon’s thigh under the table in warning.

“Hi, Auntie.”

“Hello, dear. You’re looking so well," she says, scrunching her nose condescendingly. "So how’d you dupe this one?”

Leon straightens from his casual lean, facing her better while resting his arm over the back of your chair.

“Aren’t we charming.”

Wine Aunt sets her chin in her hand, one eyebrow cocked as she looks Leon up and down, indiscreet. He’d abandoned his suit jacket a while ago, sleeves rolled up his arms, tie stuffed into his pocket so he could unbutton his collar a little. He does look fucking delicious, but you want to scoop out her slimy eyes for ogling him like that.

“Mmm. Certainly,” she purrs at him. So she’s forfeited her tongue, now, too.

You see Leon give her a subtly disgusted up-down in return before he turns his full attention to you instead.

“Met you at work,” he says to you, and you’re obsessed with the way he’s effectively answering Wine Aunt while also cutting her out of the conversation. He glances up at your hair, brushes it back from your forehead. “It was just your voice at first, lots of phone calls. And then I got to meet you.”

Your tummy’s not just fluttering, it’s kicking you. He’s too good at sounding like this, warm and fond and genuine. It’s starting to pinch behind your ribs.

It’s just a show. You’re playing in it, too.

Wine Aunt’s bringing her glass to her lips, muttering something like isn’t that sweet, expression fully soured. You can see she’s turned away, scanning the tables for her next victim, and your quiet smile at Leon grows a sharpened edge of victory. Then she leaves without another word and you have to bite back a full grin.

“Did she really just try to come on to me?”

“She’s notorious.”

“Mm. I thought about saying we met at an AA meeting, but she wouldn't know anything about that.”

Your eyes sparkle with dark delight. “Leon Kennedy. You are here for violence.”

You both jump when the speakers give a sudden feedback screech, the DJ raising his arm in apology before checking the microphone again. He announces it’s time for the speeches, and Leon exchanges a harrowed glance with you before grabbing both your empty drinks glasses.

“Same again?”

“Stronger.”

You haven’t been to a single wedding where the speeches didn’t set your teeth on edge.

Tonight might be the worst yet. You’re glad, at least, that there’s a literal spotlight somewhere else in the tent, leaving your table in heavy shadow. Both you and Leon look like you're on trial awaiting a heavy verdict rather than listening to weepy, heartfelt sentiments and weak jokes that rarely land.

Your fingers draw aimless lines up and down your drink glass, smearing through the condensation. Your eyes are on Leon’s back; he’s hunched forward, elbows on the table.

You listen to different iterations of the same gist, hear the same buzzwords, over and over.

Proud. Deserve. Love. Peace. Safety. Long life. Happiness. Together.

They all land like darts, piercing you.

Halfway through the father of the bride’s speech, Leon gets up, unreadable. He sets his hand on your back and leans down, his voice low and even.

“I’ll be right back.”

It’s calm, casual. Normal.

The giveaway is when his whiskey goes with him, and the direction he heads.

Not for the bathroom. Not for the bar.

The exit.

The reception tent is set up next to a huge, beautifully manicured garden courtyard, all high shrubs and fragrant bushes and bursting clusters of flowers lining stone paths that stretch and curve and cross over each other, a loose labyrinth. In the middle of it all stands a large stone fountain, its cascade a gentle burble rather than a showy spray, its wide pool full of blooming lilypads and the white and orange flicker of koi fish. Above it is a massive circular pergola, a slat-wooded ring dripping with cafe lights and vining flowers like a great wild halo.

The loudspeakers in the tent become just a shapeless thrum once you’re past the first wall of shrubs, and the summer chorus of crickets and frogs work to drown it out entirely. The sun’s almost down; fireflies are flashing and flickering in the dense foliage as you navigate the paths, heading for the sound of water.

And that’s exactly where you find him.

Leon’s sitting on the edge of the stone pool, head down, whiskey glass hanging from loose fingers. For a moment you just stand quietly and watch him breathe.

“Hey.”

He looks up; straightens and clears his throat, casually sipping at his drink.

“Hey,” he echoes.

“You don’t have to do that,” you tell him, moving in closer. His eyes reflect the cafe lights like little stars as he looks up to meet your approach. There’s a subtle tightness to his expression, a shadow lurking, but if you didn’t know him like you do, you’d never recognize it. He’s too well trained.

“Do what?”

“Hide.”

He doesn’t deny it. He lowers his gaze and downs the last of his drink.

“You’re missing the speeches,” he says instead.

“Chad has the microphone."

He huffs a humorless laugh through his nose. A breeze meanders through the gardens, stirring through his hair. Not really thinking about it, you trace one finger lightly across his forehead, back over his ear, his hair falling softly back into place. He meets your eyes but your gaze is distant.

The both of you have sacrificed so much, willingly or otherwise, for your line of work. That’s why it’s not you at the sweetheart table tonight, and why it probably never will be. You’ve learned how to ignore the empty spaces, to close them off within yourselves so you can keep moving forward, because you can both see the bigger picture and your places within it.

What you do creates space for happy endings, fights to maintain that space. Tries, every day, to broaden it.

You know you’ve both long given up on the idea that the fight will ever be over. After two decades, it’s inescapable: there will always be something lurking in the shadows, growing in labs, lying in wait. The only way this will end for you is in death; as long as you’re alive, you have to keep going. That’s your lifelong commitment.

You can train yourself to endure the emptiness all you want. It’s still fucking lonely.

But if today has proven anything to you, it’s that you’re not alone. For once, you’re not by yourself behind a desk in some dark safehouse while Leon's out who-knows-where, running with Death on his heels. For the first time, he’s here, he’s right in front of you, you can touch him, comfort him the way you’ve always wished you could, hearing him breathe brokenly down the comms on particularly difficult missions.

And what missions weren’t difficult?

“Thank you for being here,” you tell him quietly, distantly. You card his hair back over his ear, still busy in your own head, just liking how it feels. His hair is soft, and his strands of silver look like threads of gold in the warm, soft lighting.

His hand, resting on his own thigh, brushes your leg through the silky fall of your skirt. You’re standing between his legs at the edge of a bubbling fountain, playing with his hair while fireflies dance in the fragrant summer air around you.

Your fingers hesitate, starting to curl like a dying vine near his temple as the awareness sets in. But before you can draw your hand away, he dips his head to brush your fingers against his hair again.

Don’t go.

His eyes close and his head sways back when you comb both of your hands into his hair, nails scratching lightly along his scalp. His hands are settled on your legs now, just leaning there, still rested on his own thighs. His shoulders are loose, tension drained, and his lips are parted.

It’s such a show of trust that it almost overwhelms you. Not only are you blocking sightlines but his head is in your hands, and despite the nooks and shadows of the courtyard all around you, he's got his eyes closed. This is more surrendered than you’ve ever seen him.

You know he’s lethal, body honed not just to handle weapons, but into a weapon itself. He can snap a spine with the heel of his palm. He can crush a skull with his foot, send a body absolutely sailing with the strength of his legs.

But he’s also been one of the kindest, gentlest people you know. He cracks stupid jokes when he knows you’re wound up, but only after checking in with you. He looks at you with such adoration. He touches you with respect and care.

Is all of it really just for the role?

His lashes are a thick, dark sweep over the tops of his cheeks. You run your thumb over his eyebrow, lightly down the bridge of his nose, and he opens his eyes. You can see the green in his irises as he studies you; the dark halo of blue that rings them.

“I like this better," he tells you.

"What?"

He touches his ear, miming an earpiece, then sets his hands on your hips, light. Easily moved or brushed away. You do neither.

Your heart thumps a little faster. This touch is not waist-up.

This isn’t the role.

You lean down, speaking directly against the shell of his ear.

“Don't get used to it, Kennedy.”

You’ve barely finished saying his name before he’s turned his head and caught your lips in a kiss.

You draw back a little, startled, your lips buzzing. His eyes are half-lidded looking up at you, unapologetic.

“No one’s watching,” you check.

“I know.” He looks down at your lips.

Your hands skim his jaw, his stubble rasping against your skin.

“This was never about aiding in my revenge, was it.”

He shakes his head. His thumbs are stroking your hipbones through the silk of your dress.

"I just wanted this," he admits.

Suspended within the summer song of crickets and frogs, under whispering leaves and beside softly burbling water, you lean down and kiss him. His hands slide up to your waist, mouth so tender on yours, kissing you back while the fireflies wink and dance around you.

You’re not alone.

On AO3

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[pixelsinz]

OH MY GOD THIS IS SO GOOD, I NEED MORE

[velvetframee]

jackson ‘JAX’ teller sons of anarchy: season 4, episode 7 | fruit for the crows

[mistyyrayne]

S4 Jax was such a bad boy. I need him bad ❤️‍🔥😍 @hunnamandhoney

[hunnamandhoney]

S4 Jax was absolutely lethal, babe 😮‍💨🥵🫠

[tragertrap]

CHARLIE

HUNNAM

AS

JAX

TELLER

SMOKING.

THAT'S

IT.

THAT'S

THE

POST.

[cursed-carmine]

Masterlist for everything lace

✴︎ Lace

Floral Lace: Neutral | Warm | Cold

Heart Lace: Neutral | Warm | Cold

Lace Bows: Neutral | Warm | Cold

Lace Fade: Neutral | Warm | Cold

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Bows: Neutral | Warm | Cold | Black

[elliesmoth]

A man created by women >>>

[bloatedandalone04]

Middle of The Night

Summary: Yours and Ray’s relationship has always been complicated, right up from the moment you met, to each time you and he briefly see each other throughout the years. Though he wants more, yours and his lives are too different right now, but when you confide in him about your troubles, he suddenly doesn’t care about the very real consequences of having a more permanent place in each other’s lives.

Word Count: 6.3k | I do not give consent to having my work republished or posted to any other platform or profile other than my own. | Masterlist

Warnings: angst, smut, oral (f receiving), hair pulling, swearing (like, a lot), descriptions/mentions of an injury, unprotected sex, angst again, be warned, mentions of guns, mentions of drugs, reader’s job isn’t specified, but implied that it’s dangerous, both touch starved ray and reader, that may be all, enjoy x.

It’d been a long day, one full of chasing after men Pearson had told Ray were a liability, and he was required to put them down in case they were to expose anything about the… business Pearson has been running all over London. 

He’d gotten his hands bloody, had to chase off a bunch of men who’d witnessed it, and destroy any and all evidence that he’d done anything to begin with. 

It was late when he got home, nearing midnight when he finally walked through the door. He was done with everything, his back aching a bit as he shrugged out of his jacket, and he didn’t even bother to take off his shoes by the door - instead heading straight towards the kitchen, where a beer was calling his name. 

It wasn’t often Ray drank beer, but today was exhausting, and he needed something to relax him and take the edge off, and he didn’t feel like smoking right now. He opened the fridge and grabbed a bottle, tossing the cap into the recycle bin once he’d taken it off. 

But he didn’t get the chance to take a sip before he heard the sound of one of the floorboards in the den creaking - something he’d been meaning to fix since the noise was starting to drive him up the wall every time he walked in that area, but he hadn’t gotten around to it yet. 

Someone was in his house. 

Ray paused instantly, the beer bottle quickly forgotten on the counter as he grabbed his gun that had been tucked away in his slacks. He lifted it and aimed it as he took a step towards the den, then another, his eyes expertly scanning each room and doorway he passed as he crept closer. Each step was measured and careful, allowing him to get the jump on whoever was here if he needed to. 

He reached the den, his eyes squinting as he pointed the gun at the dark corner, knowing that was the only place to hide in the open space of the room. Ray locked his jaw, not appreciating the fact that some fucker had decided to choose tonight to break into his house when he’s already had a long day. 

“Who is that?” he asked, his voice deadly and calm, his posture damn near perfect and lethal. 

Then he heard the sound of heels, and he straightened up a bit. And then he saw a face he hadn’t seen in months. 

You stepped out of the shadows, clad in heeled boots, a form fitting black dress, a long coat and red gloss on your lips. Your own gun was raised, pointed at him as his was at you, and Ray saw that you had a faint bruise under your eye that was half-healed and faded. 

A smile formed on your lips as you kept your gun pointed at him, and he recalled a conversation you and he had a year ago after he’d finished fucking you into the next week - you’d been trained to never be the first one to put the gun down. 

“Ouch,” you said, your voice low and teasing as you took another step towards him. You pouted at him, lifting a brow as your eyes flickered from his to his gun, a knowing look on your face. “This doesn’t feel like a very warm welcome, baby.” you observed, poking at your inner cheek with your tongue. 

Ray’s eyes narrowed as he looked you up and down. Fuck, you looked good. Too good. 

That dress hugged every inch of you, and those boots made him want to bury his face between your legs, preferably keeping them on while he got you off with his tongue. 

He lowered his gun first, also well aware that he should never be the first one to do that, but as he held your gaze, he knew he had nothing to worry about. 

“A warm welcome? After breaking into my house like some fucking thief?” he asked, tucking his gun into the waistband of his slacks as he closed the rest of the distance between you and him. He lifted his hand, tilting your face up slightly as he looked at the bruise marring your skin. “What happened here?” he asked, his other hand grabbing onto your hip with a certain possessiveness he’d never felt before he met you. 

It was obvious you’d gotten into it with someone, though this seemed to be the only injury, so it hadn’t escalated too much. Still, someone put their hands on you, and that didn’t sit well with Ray, even though he knows how dangerous your job and life are. 

You lowered your own gun, tucking it into the deep pocket on the inside of your coat as you looked up at him. “Business transaction gone wrong,” you answered, vague and blunt, as if you were talking to anyone other than a man you trusted completely. You lifted a shoulder in a shrug, clearly trying to brush it off even though he could tell the bruise had been a few shades darker only a couple days ago. “I failed to meet a quota last week. Boss wasn’t very happy with me. But it looked worse before. Trust me, this is nothing.”

Ray’s jaw locked once more, a muscle twitching in his cheek as his thumb gently moved along your wounded skin. “I should pay your boss a quick visit. Teach him what happens when he touches things that aren’t his to touch,” he thought out loud, “Should’ve called me. I would’ve handled that cunt for you.”

You rolled your eyes, but there was a fond smile on your lips, one he knew was reserved for just him. “I can handle him myself, Ray,” 

He moved his hand upwards, tucking your hair behind your ear. “How long have you been here? In London?” he asked, wanting to shift the topic as quickly as possible since he didn’t like thinking about all the things you get up to whenever you and he part ways. 

“Couple hours,” you said, placing your palms flat against his chest. “I came straight here, then let myself in when I saw you were out. I wanted to surprise you but that stupid floorboard gave me away. Oh, and I don’t think it counts as breaking in if I have a key.” you added, reaching for the thin chain around your neck and lifting it up, showing him the key that was attached to it. 

He’d given it to you a while ago, and told you that if you ever found yourself in trouble, if you ever needed to hide or if you needed anything at all, you could come here. 

“Yeah, been meaning to fix that,” Ray leaned down, pressing his forehead against yours as he breathed you in, your familiar scent he’d missed so much grounding him in a way nothing else ever had. “How long do we have this time, love?” he asked quietly, his hands moving down to your hips. “Tell me you’ll stay longer than a night. Tell me you’ll stay for two.”

Your shoulders dropped at that, your hands coming up to grab onto his cardigan. “I can’t tell you that,” you whispered, your fingers twisting the fabric as you pressed your forehead more firmly against his. “But we have tonight, right? And tomorrow morning…” you offered, pulling back to look up at him as one hand lifted to caress his cheek. 

Ray sighed, exhaling through his nose as his fingers dug gently into your hips. One night. That was all he ever got to have with you for as long as he’s known you, with the exception of the weekend you and he spent together when you first met. If he’d known that those two days would be the longest he’d spend with you at a time in the future, he would’ve made the most of it a lot more than he already had. 

But he was greedy, and even though he wanted longer with you, he’d take whatever time he could get with you. “Yes. We have tonight,” he agreed, “And I plan to make the most of every second of it.”

His hands moved down to your thighs, and he lifted you up, your legs wrapping around his waist like second nature as he turned and carried you towards the bedroom. The same routine he’d done with you for the last couple years now, and one he always hoped to continue doing in the future every time you and he have to part ways. 

“I have a feeling that I need to remind you who makes you feel so good,” he murmured, wondering if there will ever be a day where he can confidently say that you are all his, and that no other man has been with you after him. 

You’d implied in the past that your life is too chaotic for a real relationship, and hookups were a lot easier to handle, and he didn’t like to think that was all he was to you. But you’d also implied that you hadn’t been with anyone since meeting him, and he was too afraid of what you might say if he were to ask you - just to confirm it. 

Ray’s grip on you tightened as he carried you down the hall, your soft laugh filling his ears. “You act like I’ll ever be able to forget you,” you teased, wrapping your legs tighter around his waist as you leaned in and brushed your lips against his ear. “I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but you’re kind of hard to forget, Ray. Like, impossible, actually.”

He let out a short laugh as he entered his room, not bothering to turn on a light as he set you down on the edge of the bed - king sized, fit for a king. Or so you’ve told him in the past. “Good. ‘Cause you’re branded on me, love. Couldn’t forget you if I tried to,” he said, leaving out the parts where he almost tried to, because he couldn’t fathom that you’d managed to capture him so entirely. 

He took a step back, shrugging off his cardigan and letting it drop to the floor before he was unbuttoning his shirt, his gaze never leaving yours. He could see the way your shoulders rose with every shaky breath you took, trying to come off as if you weren’t as desperate for this as he is. 

“You’re like a drug I can’t quit,” he muttered as his shirt fell to the floor as well, almost annoyed at having his heart belong to you in full. It wouldn’t be so bad if he could see you more than a handful of times a year, if that, but he belonged to a woman he didn’t even know the location of most of the time. “Tell me you feel it too. I’m not alone in this.”

Your eyes flickered down to his chest, and you swallowed harshly before looking back up at him. “You know I do,” you murmured, lifting your hands and placing them on his abs as he towered over you. You leaned in, brushing your lips against his stomach and leaving behind a glossy red stain. Your eyes fluttered shut as you peppered kisses along his skin, breathing him in and leaving him no choice but to believe your words. “I do…”

Ray tangled his fingers in your hair, tugging your head back gently so you were holding his gaze again. “Then prove it,” he challenged, his other hand coming up as well to hook his fingers under your chin. 

He dipped his head down just as you leaned up, your lips connecting in a deep kiss that you had both been waiting for since you saw each other again. His tongue slipped into your mouth as you moaned, and his hands grabbed onto your coat and slid it down your shoulders, letting the heavy fabric hit the ground gently, the muffled thud of the gun barely audible. 

You grabbed onto his face, kissing him harder as you moved further back on the bed, laying down properly. Ray grunted into your mouth as he followed you down, settling between your thighs as he caged you in with his arms. 

He broke the kiss, letting you get some air as he pressed kisses down your jaw and throat, his teeth dragging along your skin. Your dress rode up a bit, letting him feel the heat between your thighs as he pressed himself against you. “Mm, you’re dripping, aren’t you?” he mumbled, grinding his hips against yours as his hands pushed your dress up further, his palms smoothing over your thighs. “Gonna let me taste you? Been too long since I’ve had your sweet pussy.”

You let out a needy moan, biting down on your glossy lip. It was smeared and messy from the kiss, and yet you still looked fucking perfect as you ran your hands up and down his arms. “You know I’d never say no to that,” 

The corners of Ray’s lips turned upwards at that, and he hooked his fingers in the waistline of your panties, tugging them down your legs and tossing them aside. At the sight of your bare core, he hummed in appreciation as he pushed your thighs further apart, making his way down your body. “She’s just as pretty as I remember,” he observed, and you let out a laugh. 

“You act like it’s been years. It’s only been, like, five months,”

“Six and a half,” Ray corrected, looking up at you briefly before he guided your legs over his broad shoulders, his eyes level with one of his favorite parts of you. “And that’s a long fucking time, love.”

And it really was. This has been the longest time you and he have gone without seeing each other in the nearly four years you’ve known each other. 

You opened your mouth to shoot another snarky reply his way, but he effectively shut you right up as he ducked his head down, his tongue parting your folds and collecting your wetness like he’d been deprived of it. 

His eyes shut for a few seconds as he tasted you on his tongue, and he had been fucking deprived of this. It’s his favorite taste and he only gets it every once in a very long while, for fucks sake. 

At your soft moan, he buried his face in your pussy, his lips wrapping around your clit and drawing it into his mouth. Your body jolted as soon as he gave it a gentle suck, your head tipping back on the bed and once again fully igniting the fire that had been burning inside him since the night you met. 

“Fuck,” you sighed, spreading your thighs more and opening yourself up completely to him. Your hands reached down and tangled in his hair, your fingers creating a mess of it that he’d only ever allow you to get away with making. A quiet, needy laugh left your lips as you bucked your hips against his face, “So good.”

Ray grunted against your core as he grabbed hold of your hips, holding you still as he flicked your clit with his tongue. He licked along your folds, drinking you in like a man starved for you, and he didn’t even care that he was exactly that. A man unbelievably starved for a woman he feared he’d never be able to truly have. 

“Tastes so fucking good,” he praised, uncaring about the mess your slick was making on his face and your inner thighs. His distaste for that went out the window every time he’s with you. “Could eat this sweet cunt for hours. Keep you right there ‘til you’re begging me to let you cum.” 

You whined at that, rolling your hips against his hands as you shook your head. “You wouldn’t dare,” you said, tugging harder at his hair. “You love making me cum, Ray. I know you do, you’ve said it to me before. Pretty sure you were pussy drunk, but the point still stands.”

He couldn’t even deny that, because it was true. He rather enjoyed getting you off far more than making you wait for it, especially after you both had been waiting for this for way too long now. 

Letting out a deep laugh against you, he pulled back just slightly to look up at you through the increasingly fogging lenses of his glasses. “Pussy drunk on the finest cunt in London,” he agreed, lips and chin glistening with your arousal. “And I just know what I want, and right now I want to feel you cum on my tongue.”

You whined loudly, your eyes shutting as you arched your back, your breasts nearly spilling free from the top of your dress. “Fuck,” you whimpered, all but yanking on his hair now and pulling him close until his face was buried against you once more. “God, yes.” 

Ray sucked on your clit again, sliding two thick fingers inside you and stretching you out. “That’s my girl,” he praised, his voice deeper than before as he flicked his tongue over your clit quickly, his fingers thrusting in and out of you. “Gonna cum for me, aren’t you? Can feel how close you are for me, baby.” 

A soft moan left your mouth, the sound filling his room that seemed to have come back to life now that you and he had reunited again. “Oh, fuck. Yes, Ray. Fuck yes, I’m coming,” you gasped, your nails scratching at his scalp as your thighs tried closing around his head. He felt the way you coated his fingers, your warmth washing over him as he dipped his head down and collected some of it with his tongue. 

Ray groaned against you, working you through it as he watched your face for every reaction he coaxed out of you. Once you stopped shaking, he slowly pulled his fingers out of you, bringing them up to his mouth to suck clean, a muffled groan vibrating against his digits. 

He crawled up your body, kissing you deeply and letting you taste yourself on his lips and tongue. His teeth tugged at your bottom lip as he tangled one hand in your hair, angling your head so he could kiss you even deeper. “Missed you,” he muttered against your mouth, his hips pressing against yours. 

You moaned softly, looking up at him with a lazy smile and hooded eyes. “Missed you,” you said back, the two of you having agreed to not say much more than that whenever you found yourselves in this exact situation. It was supposed to make it easier, but the longer this went on, the harder it became. 

Ray sat back on his knees, his hands sliding down your legs until his fingers brushed along the tops of your boots. One by one he unzipped them and let them thump gently on the floor, his eyes never leaving yours as he did so, the sight of you sprawled out on his bed one he hopes stays branded in his mind forever. 

“Been so long since I’ve been fucked,” you confessed, pulling him back down and reaching for the zipper on his slacks. “Since the last time I was here with you.” 

He liked that you added that, because you’d been his last time too, and the thought of you with another man made his blood boil. 

You pushed down his slacks and boxers, and he kicked them off, as well as his shoes, before crawling up your body again. His hand slid under your back, his fingers finding the zipper of your dress, and he tugged it down before guiding the tight fabric off your body. 

“Been so hard for you. Needed you so bad,” he confessed back, settling between your thighs once again, his heavy cock pressing against your slick folds. 

He reached down and guided himself inside you, the lack of condom all too familiar since you and he had never used one. He probably should, seeing how you and he aren’t officially together, but he knew he was clean, and he trusted you are as well. 

It also made him feel closer to you, but that was a bit too much to admit to right now.

“So goddamn tight. Couldn’t forget how perfect you feel even if I wanted to,” he muttered, one hand sliding under your back while the other tangled in your hair. He gave you a moment to adjust, your walls just as tight as he remembered, then started to thrust into you with deep, steady strokes. 

Ray leaned in and kissed you deeply, swallowing your moans as he rocked his hips against yours, making love to you in a way he hoped came off as just sex, because he knew that was all this could be for now and possibly forever. 

Your moan was muffled against his mouth, your hands coming up to grab onto the sides of his face. Your legs wrapped around his waist, heels digging into his lower back and trying to pull him closer. “Oh, fuck,” you moaned, breaking the kiss with a gasp. “Feels so fucking good. God, baby, needed this so bad.”

Ray grunted as your heels dug into his back, his grip on you tightening as he angled his hips to reach the sweet spot deep inside of you. “You take me so well. Fuck, that’s it, baby,” he rasped, his hands sliding down to grab onto your ass. He dipped his head down and wrapped his mouth around one of your nipples, your soft skin pressing against his face with every thrust. 

Your body jolted against his as he increased both the pace and force of his hips, but his grip on you kept you flush against his chest. Your teeth dug into your bottom lip as you tugged on his hair, pulling his mouth back up to yours for a deep, messy kiss that was all teeth and tongue. 

With every roll of his hips, the headboard hit the wall over and over again, the creaking of the bed mixing in seamlessly with yours and his sounds. “Feels fucking perfect, love,” he muttered against your lips, swallowing your moans with every deep kiss. 

You kept your mouth attached to his as you grabbed onto his shoulders, pushing up against him and rolling over so he was on his back and you’re on top of him. “Feels so fucking good,” you groaned, clearly needing his as badly as he did. Your hips rolled against his as you braced your hands on his chest, your eyes hooded and your lips parted. You rode him like your life depended on it, every grind of your body making him feel more and more feral for you. 

“Fuck, just like that. Ride me, baby,” he grunted, grabbing onto your hips with a tight grip. The new position made him feel impossibly deeper inside you, reaching parts no other man ever had before. His fingers dug into your ass, his eyes flickering down to where you and he are connected, and he watched through foggy lenses as your tight pussy gripped his cock like a second skin, his entire length glistening with your arousal. “Such a good girl, taking my cock so well. Gonna… fuck, gonna cum soon. Wanna feel you cum with me.”

One hand moved around to your front, and he used his thumb to rub your clit, wanting to feel you let go first. You cried out helplessly, your body moving on autopilot as your nails dug into the dips of his abs. “Yes, fuck yes. Yes yes yes,” you slurred, grinding against him as you clenched around him tightly. You came with a choked moan, your body stuttering on top of his as you fell apart for him. 

“Fuck, that’s it, cum on my cock,” he murmured, taking it upon himself to give a few more deep thrusts before he was there too. He filled you up, white ropes marking you as his from the inside out, his hands planted firmly on your ass. “Fuck…” he panted, his chest heaving with uneven breaths as he wrapped one hand around the back of your head and pulled you down for a sloppy, open mouthed kiss. 

You and he kissed for a long moment after that, Ray’s hands moving up and down your slick back as you both came down from the most overwhelming highs you’d had in months. A soft laugh left your mouth and entered his as you pulled away just a bit, your eyes flickering up to his. “I think you’re a bit fogged up there,” you teased, pushing at the bridge of his glasses. 

Ray let out a deep laugh that vibrated through his chest and into yours. “It’s bloody hot in here,” he muttered, nuzzling his face into your neck and breathing in your scent, hoping to brand it into his senses like he did every time. His hands ran up and down your back, committing every inch of you to memory once again since he refused to waste a second not touching you.

Moments like this were precious, rare, and ones he cherished above all others, and he’d always savor every single second. After all, he never knew when he’d see you next, or if this was the last time. 

He took off his glasses and set them aside, still able to see you through the blurriness in his eyes. He looked down at you with a small, genuine grin on his lips as he lifted a hand and smoothed out your hair. “I have something for you,” he said, then reached over to the nightstand and picked up the joint he’d rolled the previous night but didn’t get around to smoking. “It’s quite fresh still. Rolled it last night.”

You took it from his fingers with a soft gasp, as if he’d just presented you with the best gift you could ever ask for. “I’ve missed your joints,” you groaned, leaning in and pressing a series of kisses to his cheek. “I almost want to save it. Take it with me and light it when I start to miss you.”

Ray hummed, wincing as you finally lifted yourself off him and reached over to set the joint down with more care than needed on the other nightstand that was closer to you. He pulled you back into his arms and cradled you against his chest, pressing a firm kiss to the top of your head. “You won’t miss me as soon as you leave again?” he asked, unable to stop the accusing tone from bleeding into his words, but he hated not having you around, and he hated never knowing where you were unless you were right in front of him. “‘Cause I know I’ll fucking miss you. I miss you every time you leave. Do you not miss me as much?”

You propped your chin up on his chest, your eyes soft and your expression sweet - two things he knew were reserved for him. “You know I do,” you whispered, running your fingers along his jaw. “Every single time I go. It’s not easy for me, Ray. It’s actually really fucking hard.”

Ray’s gaze softened as he looked down at you, and he cradled the back of your head in his hand. He hated the thought of you out there, putting yourself in danger because of your job. It never failed to leave a bitter taste in his mouth, and it fueled the growing need he felt to do something to get you away from that lifestyle. To keep you safe. 

“I know, love. I know it’s not easy. I know,” he said, gently tangling his fingers in your hair. “It kills me every time you leave. I hate… not knowing if you’re alright.”

You gave him a small smile. “You know I’m always careful, Ray,” you said, “You don’t need to worry about me.”

He wanted to say that he’ll always worry about you, but he bit his tongue, a muscle in his jaw twitching as he nodded. “Right,” he agreed, pressing his forehead against yours. “We’ll just make the most of the time we have, like we always do. But promise me something, yeah? Promise that you’ll always find your way back to me. It doesn’t matter how much time has passed. I’ll always want you.”

Your smile faded a bit at that, and you pressed your cheek against his chest. “I’m here now, right? I don’t think I could ever stop coming back to you. You’re the one thing keeping me sane, Ray,” you mumbled, pressing your palm flat against his abs. “I’m still here… even though I should be out there trying to make up the money I failed to deliver to my boss. He’s still expecting twenty grand by the end of the week. But I’m already fucked, so why not pop in and actually get fucked by you?”

Your voice held a hint of teasing in it, but he could feel the way you’d become a little on edge, and Ray also tensed up at your words. “Twenty grand? By the end of this week? The hell have you gotten yourself into?” he asked, sitting up slightly and looking down at you. 

You just shook your head, trying to shrug the conversation off. “It’s just my job, Ray,” 

But he wasn’t having any of that as he ran a hand down his face. “Look, I can help with the money, okay? It’s not a problem, just tell me how to do it without drawing… unnecessary attention,” he said, knowing he had that kind of money handy to him - the perks of being close with his boss. 

You let out a huff of air as you rolled onto your back and looked up at the ceiling, reaching up to play with the chain around your neck. “It’s because I missed the quota. He’s… really fucking stingy with that kind of thing, hence the… you know,” you gestured to your eye, and his own dropped down to the bruise again. “I was short two grand and he tripled the original price, made it twenty. But I’ll figure it out, Ray. I don’t… I won’t take your money.”

Ray let out a scoff at that, an anger beginning to build up inside him. Your boss fucking hit you, and probably did worse than that, more than once. The thought had his jaw locking. “He hit you because of two grand? That fucking cunt hit you because-” he had to hold off on saying what he wanted to say, because as much as he wanted to go off on your boss, it wouldn’t help right now. “Listen to me, you helped me out of a tight spot once, it’s about time I returned the favor, yeah?”

“Ray-”

“Don’t. Don’t give me that shit about not taking my money, alright? I think we’re way past that, love. I’m not letting you deal with this shit alone. No fucking way is that happening,” he said, cradling your jaw in his hand and turning your head so you were looking at him again. He leaned in and pressed a hard kiss to your lips before pulling back again. “I’m not offering out of pity or because I feel obligated to. I’m telling you to let me help you because I love you, you stubborn woman.”

Your breath hitched at that, and your eyes visibly widened, and he knew why. He’d never said that to you, that he loves you, but he does, and he has for a long time now. He just held the words back in hopes he could save them for when you came back to him for the last time, and you and he could finally be together, but he couldn’t stop himself from saying them now. 

He loves you, and he wants, needs, to help you out of a situation that would no doubt just get worse if you couldn’t find a way to get that money by yourself. You protect him, and he protects you. That’s the way it’s always been. 

You raised a hand and cupped his cheek, your head shaking slowly. “I’m not your responsibility, Ray. You have no reason to help me or take care of this for me. It’s all on me. I did this to myself,” 

Ray shook his head right back, his gaze intense as he held your stare. “Did no one ever tell you that you can ask for help when you need it? You’re not some burden, baby. What happens to you affects me, that’s how it’s always been,” he said, pressing his forehead against yours. “Let me do this for you, love. Please.”

You furrowed your brows, and it was obvious you were having an inner debate with yourself, and he didn’t know what side would win, but he was more than prepared to convince you more if he needed to. 

But you just gave him a defeated smile and nod as you tugged him down into a firm kiss. 

Ray melted into you, kissing you back as he pulled your body flush against his. “There’s my good girl,” he murmured, “Was that so hard?”

You nodded again, sliding your fingers into his hair as you pulled him down on top of you. “It was very hard,” you confirmed, then pulled him into another kiss. 

-

The next morning, after spending the rest of the night tasting and touching each other, you fell asleep in his arms. 

It was one of the best sleeps Ray has gotten in a while, and he knew it was all because of you. 

You were finally letting him in, letting him help you. You weren’t alone in this anymore. 

You’d woken up before him, that much was obvious when Ray woke up to the feeling of your soft lips on his, and your hands placed gently on his chest. “I love you too,” you said quietly, and the lazy smile that formed on his face was instantaneous. 

He was well aware that you hadn’t returned those words to him when he said them to you last night, and while he didn’t need you to, he just wanted you to know, there was no denying how happy he felt that you loved him too. 

His eyes opened slowly, expecting to have a rerun of last night before you had to go again, but when he tried to reach for you, he found one of his wrists tied to the headboard. By his own fucking tie. 

He tested how tight it was by pulling on it, only to find that it was extremely tight, because of course you knew how to tie someone up and keep them from getting out. “The fuck,” he muttered, looking over at you with narrowed eyes. “Untie me. Now.”

You gave him a miserable shrug as you moved out of his reach when he tried to grab you with the hand that wasn’t tied to his fucking headboard. “I can’t involve you in this, Ray. I guess I love you too much for that,” you said as you stood up, and you had already put your dress and boots back on while he was asleep. “It’s not your responsibility. It’s mine. I’ll be okay, I promise.”

Ray let out an annoyed grunt as he pulled on the tie again, but it was still secure. “Goddamnit, don’t you dare fucking walk out that door,” he said when you took a step away from the bed. “There is nothing responsible about risking your life for a piece of shit who puts his fucking hands on you. Do you hear me? Don’t you even fucking think about leaving me like this.”

You took another step away, pressing your lips together. “I’m sorry-”

“I love you. You hear me? I love you, even though you fucking piss me off all the time. Like right now,” he cut you off, “Let me help you, love. I can help you, alright? Please. Don’t leave me like this. Don’t make me lose you.”

Your eyes teared up at that, and you cleared your throat as you looked away. “You can’t lose something you never truly had, Ray,” you said quietly, and somehow those words hurt more than anything else. “Thank you for last night. For everything.”

You reached down and grabbed his phone from off the floor, tossing it at him so it landed beside him on the bed. 

“Sorry, you’ll have to call Pearson to come help you out of that. I hope it’s not too embarrassing,” you teased, even now as you gave him a watery smile. “I’ll see you soon, Ray. Promise.”

Then you were turning around and heading for the door, each step you took making Ray’s chest clench more and more. He watched as you disappeared around the corner, leaving him lying there, still completely naked with just the sheets pulled up around his hips, and his wrist tied to the headboard. 

He should’ve known you’d never actually let him in all the way, or let him take care of you. You’d always been independent, stubborn as fuck, and too proud to ever let someone help you even when you so clearly need it. 

“Not too embarrassing,” he scoffed, shaking his head as he reached for his phone. Of course this was going to be fucking embarrasing, and this won’t look good to Pearson - his best man being tied to his own bed after spending the night with the woman he’d warned Ray about each time you were brought up. Even his boss could see how much you meant to Ray, and while he usually encouraged him to keep things close that make him happy, he still wanted him to be wary of you. “Bloody hell.”

He slumped back against the pillows and let out a laugh of disbelief, not at the fact that you’d pulled this little stunt, but at the fact that, despite you taking Ray’s pride and ego with you, he still loves you.

-

First Ray fic, wooo, feels good. Thank you for reading x

@circe-04 @baleyszrian @deesh-e @pixelsbyella @latinakitty17 @tellersgal

[bloatedandalone04]

Middle of The Night

Summary: Yours and Ray’s relationship has always been complicated, right up from the moment you met, to each time you and he briefly see each other throughout the years. Though he wants more, yours and his lives are too different right now, but when you confide in him about your troubles, he suddenly doesn’t care about the very real consequences of having a more permanent place in each other’s lives.

Word Count: 6.3k | I do not give consent to having my work republished or posted to any other platform or profile other than my own. | Masterlist

Warnings: angst, smut, oral (f receiving), hair pulling, swearing (like, a lot), descriptions/mentions of an injury, unprotected sex, angst again, be warned, mentions of guns, mentions of drugs, reader’s job isn’t specified, but implied that it’s dangerous, both touch starved ray and reader, that may be all, enjoy x.

It’d been a long day, one full of chasing after men Pearson had told Ray were a liability, and he was required to put them down in case they were to expose anything about the… business Pearson has been running all over London. 

He’d gotten his hands bloody, had to chase off a bunch of men who’d witnessed it, and destroy any and all evidence that he’d done anything to begin with. 

It was late when he got home, nearing midnight when he finally walked through the door. He was done with everything, his back aching a bit as he shrugged out of his jacket, and he didn’t even bother to take off his shoes by the door - instead heading straight towards the kitchen, where a beer was calling his name. 

It wasn’t often Ray drank beer, but today was exhausting, and he needed something to relax him and take the edge off, and he didn’t feel like smoking right now. He opened the fridge and grabbed a bottle, tossing the cap into the recycle bin once he’d taken it off. 

But he didn’t get the chance to take a sip before he heard the sound of one of the floorboards in the den creaking - something he’d been meaning to fix since the noise was starting to drive him up the wall every time he walked in that area, but he hadn’t gotten around to it yet. 

Someone was in his house. 

Ray paused instantly, the beer bottle quickly forgotten on the counter as he grabbed his gun that had been tucked away in his slacks. He lifted it and aimed it as he took a step towards the den, then another, his eyes expertly scanning each room and doorway he passed as he crept closer. Each step was measured and careful, allowing him to get the jump on whoever was here if he needed to. 

He reached the den, his eyes squinting as he pointed the gun at the dark corner, knowing that was the only place to hide in the open space of the room. Ray locked his jaw, not appreciating the fact that some fucker had decided to choose tonight to break into his house when he’s already had a long day. 

“Who is that?” he asked, his voice deadly and calm, his posture damn near perfect and lethal. 

Then he heard the sound of heels, and he straightened up a bit. And then he saw a face he hadn’t seen in months. 

You stepped out of the shadows, clad in heeled boots, a form fitting black dress, a long coat and red gloss on your lips. Your own gun was raised, pointed at him as his was at you, and Ray saw that you had a faint bruise under your eye that was half-healed and faded. 

A smile formed on your lips as you kept your gun pointed at him, and he recalled a conversation you and he had a year ago after he’d finished fucking you into the next week - you’d been trained to never be the first one to put the gun down. 

“Ouch,” you said, your voice low and teasing as you took another step towards him. You pouted at him, lifting a brow as your eyes flickered from his to his gun, a knowing look on your face. “This doesn’t feel like a very warm welcome, baby.” you observed, poking at your inner cheek with your tongue. 

Ray’s eyes narrowed as he looked you up and down. Fuck, you looked good. Too good. 

That dress hugged every inch of you, and those boots made him want to bury his face between your legs, preferably keeping them on while he got you off with his tongue. 

He lowered his gun first, also well aware that he should never be the first one to do that, but as he held your gaze, he knew he had nothing to worry about. 

“A warm welcome? After breaking into my house like some fucking thief?” he asked, tucking his gun into the waistband of his slacks as he closed the rest of the distance between you and him. He lifted his hand, tilting your face up slightly as he looked at the bruise marring your skin. “What happened here?” he asked, his other hand grabbing onto your hip with a certain possessiveness he’d never felt before he met you. 

It was obvious you’d gotten into it with someone, though this seemed to be the only injury, so it hadn’t escalated too much. Still, someone put their hands on you, and that didn’t sit well with Ray, even though he knows how dangerous your job and life are. 

You lowered your own gun, tucking it into the deep pocket on the inside of your coat as you looked up at him. “Business transaction gone wrong,” you answered, vague and blunt, as if you were talking to anyone other than a man you trusted completely. You lifted a shoulder in a shrug, clearly trying to brush it off even though he could tell the bruise had been a few shades darker only a couple days ago. “I failed to meet a quota last week. Boss wasn’t very happy with me. But it looked worse before. Trust me, this is nothing.”

Ray’s jaw locked once more, a muscle twitching in his cheek as his thumb gently moved along your wounded skin. “I should pay your boss a quick visit. Teach him what happens when he touches things that aren’t his to touch,” he thought out loud, “Should’ve called me. I would’ve handled that cunt for you.”

You rolled your eyes, but there was a fond smile on your lips, one he knew was reserved for just him. “I can handle him myself, Ray,” 

He moved his hand upwards, tucking your hair behind your ear. “How long have you been here? In London?” he asked, wanting to shift the topic as quickly as possible since he didn’t like thinking about all the things you get up to whenever you and he part ways. 

“Couple hours,” you said, placing your palms flat against his chest. “I came straight here, then let myself in when I saw you were out. I wanted to surprise you but that stupid floorboard gave me away. Oh, and I don’t think it counts as breaking in if I have a key.” you added, reaching for the thin chain around your neck and lifting it up, showing him the key that was attached to it. 

He’d given it to you a while ago, and told you that if you ever found yourself in trouble, if you ever needed to hide or if you needed anything at all, you could come here. 

“Yeah, been meaning to fix that,” Ray leaned down, pressing his forehead against yours as he breathed you in, your familiar scent he’d missed so much grounding him in a way nothing else ever had. “How long do we have this time, love?” he asked quietly, his hands moving down to your hips. “Tell me you’ll stay longer than a night. Tell me you’ll stay for two.”

Your shoulders dropped at that, your hands coming up to grab onto his cardigan. “I can’t tell you that,” you whispered, your fingers twisting the fabric as you pressed your forehead more firmly against his. “But we have tonight, right? And tomorrow morning…” you offered, pulling back to look up at him as one hand lifted to caress his cheek. 

Ray sighed, exhaling through his nose as his fingers dug gently into your hips. One night. That was all he ever got to have with you for as long as he’s known you, with the exception of the weekend you and he spent together when you first met. If he’d known that those two days would be the longest he’d spend with you at a time in the future, he would’ve made the most of it a lot more than he already had. 

But he was greedy, and even though he wanted longer with you, he’d take whatever time he could get with you. “Yes. We have tonight,” he agreed, “And I plan to make the most of every second of it.”

His hands moved down to your thighs, and he lifted you up, your legs wrapping around his waist like second nature as he turned and carried you towards the bedroom. The same routine he’d done with you for the last couple years now, and one he always hoped to continue doing in the future every time you and he have to part ways. 

“I have a feeling that I need to remind you who makes you feel so good,” he murmured, wondering if there will ever be a day where he can confidently say that you are all his, and that no other man has been with you after him. 

You’d implied in the past that your life is too chaotic for a real relationship, and hookups were a lot easier to handle, and he didn’t like to think that was all he was to you. But you’d also implied that you hadn’t been with anyone since meeting him, and he was too afraid of what you might say if he were to ask you - just to confirm it. 

Ray’s grip on you tightened as he carried you down the hall, your soft laugh filling his ears. “You act like I’ll ever be able to forget you,” you teased, wrapping your legs tighter around his waist as you leaned in and brushed your lips against his ear. “I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but you’re kind of hard to forget, Ray. Like, impossible, actually.”

He let out a short laugh as he entered his room, not bothering to turn on a light as he set you down on the edge of the bed - king sized, fit for a king. Or so you’ve told him in the past. “Good. ‘Cause you’re branded on me, love. Couldn’t forget you if I tried to,” he said, leaving out the parts where he almost tried to, because he couldn’t fathom that you’d managed to capture him so entirely. 

He took a step back, shrugging off his cardigan and letting it drop to the floor before he was unbuttoning his shirt, his gaze never leaving yours. He could see the way your shoulders rose with every shaky breath you took, trying to come off as if you weren’t as desperate for this as he is. 

“You’re like a drug I can’t quit,” he muttered as his shirt fell to the floor as well, almost annoyed at having his heart belong to you in full. It wouldn’t be so bad if he could see you more than a handful of times a year, if that, but he belonged to a woman he didn’t even know the location of most of the time. “Tell me you feel it too. I’m not alone in this.”

Your eyes flickered down to his chest, and you swallowed harshly before looking back up at him. “You know I do,” you murmured, lifting your hands and placing them on his abs as he towered over you. You leaned in, brushing your lips against his stomach and leaving behind a glossy red stain. Your eyes fluttered shut as you peppered kisses along his skin, breathing him in and leaving him no choice but to believe your words. “I do…”

Ray tangled his fingers in your hair, tugging your head back gently so you were holding his gaze again. “Then prove it,” he challenged, his other hand coming up as well to hook his fingers under your chin. 

He dipped his head down just as you leaned up, your lips connecting in a deep kiss that you had both been waiting for since you saw each other again. His tongue slipped into your mouth as you moaned, and his hands grabbed onto your coat and slid it down your shoulders, letting the heavy fabric hit the ground gently, the muffled thud of the gun barely audible. 

You grabbed onto his face, kissing him harder as you moved further back on the bed, laying down properly. Ray grunted into your mouth as he followed you down, settling between your thighs as he caged you in with his arms. 

He broke the kiss, letting you get some air as he pressed kisses down your jaw and throat, his teeth dragging along your skin. Your dress rode up a bit, letting him feel the heat between your thighs as he pressed himself against you. “Mm, you’re dripping, aren’t you?” he mumbled, grinding his hips against yours as his hands pushed your dress up further, his palms smoothing over your thighs. “Gonna let me taste you? Been too long since I’ve had your sweet pussy.”

You let out a needy moan, biting down on your glossy lip. It was smeared and messy from the kiss, and yet you still looked fucking perfect as you ran your hands up and down his arms. “You know I’d never say no to that,” 

The corners of Ray’s lips turned upwards at that, and he hooked his fingers in the waistline of your panties, tugging them down your legs and tossing them aside. At the sight of your bare core, he hummed in appreciation as he pushed your thighs further apart, making his way down your body. “She’s just as pretty as I remember,” he observed, and you let out a laugh. 

“You act like it’s been years. It’s only been, like, five months,”

“Six and a half,” Ray corrected, looking up at you briefly before he guided your legs over his broad shoulders, his eyes level with one of his favorite parts of you. “And that’s a long fucking time, love.”

And it really was. This has been the longest time you and he have gone without seeing each other in the nearly four years you’ve known each other. 

You opened your mouth to shoot another snarky reply his way, but he effectively shut you right up as he ducked his head down, his tongue parting your folds and collecting your wetness like he’d been deprived of it. 

His eyes shut for a few seconds as he tasted you on his tongue, and he had been fucking deprived of this. It’s his favorite taste and he only gets it every once in a very long while, for fucks sake. 

At your soft moan, he buried his face in your pussy, his lips wrapping around your clit and drawing it into his mouth. Your body jolted as soon as he gave it a gentle suck, your head tipping back on the bed and once again fully igniting the fire that had been burning inside him since the night you met. 

“Fuck,” you sighed, spreading your thighs more and opening yourself up completely to him. Your hands reached down and tangled in his hair, your fingers creating a mess of it that he’d only ever allow you to get away with making. A quiet, needy laugh left your lips as you bucked your hips against his face, “So good.”

Ray grunted against your core as he grabbed hold of your hips, holding you still as he flicked your clit with his tongue. He licked along your folds, drinking you in like a man starved for you, and he didn’t even care that he was exactly that. A man unbelievably starved for a woman he feared he’d never be able to truly have. 

“Tastes so fucking good,” he praised, uncaring about the mess your slick was making on his face and your inner thighs. His distaste for that went out the window every time he’s with you. “Could eat this sweet cunt for hours. Keep you right there ‘til you’re begging me to let you cum.” 

You whined at that, rolling your hips against his hands as you shook your head. “You wouldn’t dare,” you said, tugging harder at his hair. “You love making me cum, Ray. I know you do, you’ve said it to me before. Pretty sure you were pussy drunk, but the point still stands.”

He couldn’t even deny that, because it was true. He rather enjoyed getting you off far more than making you wait for it, especially after you both had been waiting for this for way too long now. 

Letting out a deep laugh against you, he pulled back just slightly to look up at you through the increasingly fogging lenses of his glasses. “Pussy drunk on the finest cunt in London,” he agreed, lips and chin glistening with your arousal. “And I just know what I want, and right now I want to feel you cum on my tongue.”

You whined loudly, your eyes shutting as you arched your back, your breasts nearly spilling free from the top of your dress. “Fuck,” you whimpered, all but yanking on his hair now and pulling him close until his face was buried against you once more. “God, yes.” 

Ray sucked on your clit again, sliding two thick fingers inside you and stretching you out. “That’s my girl,” he praised, his voice deeper than before as he flicked his tongue over your clit quickly, his fingers thrusting in and out of you. “Gonna cum for me, aren’t you? Can feel how close you are for me, baby.” 

A soft moan left your mouth, the sound filling his room that seemed to have come back to life now that you and he had reunited again. “Oh, fuck. Yes, Ray. Fuck yes, I’m coming,” you gasped, your nails scratching at his scalp as your thighs tried closing around his head. He felt the way you coated his fingers, your warmth washing over him as he dipped his head down and collected some of it with his tongue. 

Ray groaned against you, working you through it as he watched your face for every reaction he coaxed out of you. Once you stopped shaking, he slowly pulled his fingers out of you, bringing them up to his mouth to suck clean, a muffled groan vibrating against his digits. 

He crawled up your body, kissing you deeply and letting you taste yourself on his lips and tongue. His teeth tugged at your bottom lip as he tangled one hand in your hair, angling your head so he could kiss you even deeper. “Missed you,” he muttered against your mouth, his hips pressing against yours. 

You moaned softly, looking up at him with a lazy smile and hooded eyes. “Missed you,” you said back, the two of you having agreed to not say much more than that whenever you found yourselves in this exact situation. It was supposed to make it easier, but the longer this went on, the harder it became. 

Ray sat back on his knees, his hands sliding down your legs until his fingers brushed along the tops of your boots. One by one he unzipped them and let them thump gently on the floor, his eyes never leaving yours as he did so, the sight of you sprawled out on his bed one he hopes stays branded in his mind forever. 

“Been so long since I’ve been fucked,” you confessed, pulling him back down and reaching for the zipper on his slacks. “Since the last time I was here with you.” 

He liked that you added that, because you’d been his last time too, and the thought of you with another man made his blood boil. 

You pushed down his slacks and boxers, and he kicked them off, as well as his shoes, before crawling up your body again. His hand slid under your back, his fingers finding the zipper of your dress, and he tugged it down before guiding the tight fabric off your body. 

“Been so hard for you. Needed you so bad,” he confessed back, settling between your thighs once again, his heavy cock pressing against your slick folds. 

He reached down and guided himself inside you, the lack of condom all too familiar since you and he had never used one. He probably should, seeing how you and he aren’t officially together, but he knew he was clean, and he trusted you are as well. 

It also made him feel closer to you, but that was a bit too much to admit to right now.

“So goddamn tight. Couldn’t forget how perfect you feel even if I wanted to,” he muttered, one hand sliding under your back while the other tangled in your hair. He gave you a moment to adjust, your walls just as tight as he remembered, then started to thrust into you with deep, steady strokes. 

Ray leaned in and kissed you deeply, swallowing your moans as he rocked his hips against yours, making love to you in a way he hoped came off as just sex, because he knew that was all this could be for now and possibly forever. 

Your moan was muffled against his mouth, your hands coming up to grab onto the sides of his face. Your legs wrapped around his waist, heels digging into his lower back and trying to pull him closer. “Oh, fuck,” you moaned, breaking the kiss with a gasp. “Feels so fucking good. God, baby, needed this so bad.”

Ray grunted as your heels dug into his back, his grip on you tightening as he angled his hips to reach the sweet spot deep inside of you. “You take me so well. Fuck, that’s it, baby,” he rasped, his hands sliding down to grab onto your ass. He dipped his head down and wrapped his mouth around one of your nipples, your soft skin pressing against his face with every thrust. 

Your body jolted against his as he increased both the pace and force of his hips, but his grip on you kept you flush against his chest. Your teeth dug into your bottom lip as you tugged on his hair, pulling his mouth back up to yours for a deep, messy kiss that was all teeth and tongue. 

With every roll of his hips, the headboard hit the wall over and over again, the creaking of the bed mixing in seamlessly with yours and his sounds. “Feels fucking perfect, love,” he muttered against your lips, swallowing your moans with every deep kiss. 

You kept your mouth attached to his as you grabbed onto his shoulders, pushing up against him and rolling over so he was on his back and you’re on top of him. “Feels so fucking good,” you groaned, clearly needing his as badly as he did. Your hips rolled against his as you braced your hands on his chest, your eyes hooded and your lips parted. You rode him like your life depended on it, every grind of your body making him feel more and more feral for you. 

“Fuck, just like that. Ride me, baby,” he grunted, grabbing onto your hips with a tight grip. The new position made him feel impossibly deeper inside you, reaching parts no other man ever had before. His fingers dug into your ass, his eyes flickering down to where you and he are connected, and he watched through foggy lenses as your tight pussy gripped his cock like a second skin, his entire length glistening with your arousal. “Such a good girl, taking my cock so well. Gonna… fuck, gonna cum soon. Wanna feel you cum with me.”

One hand moved around to your front, and he used his thumb to rub your clit, wanting to feel you let go first. You cried out helplessly, your body moving on autopilot as your nails dug into the dips of his abs. “Yes, fuck yes. Yes yes yes,” you slurred, grinding against him as you clenched around him tightly. You came with a choked moan, your body stuttering on top of his as you fell apart for him. 

“Fuck, that’s it, cum on my cock,” he murmured, taking it upon himself to give a few more deep thrusts before he was there too. He filled you up, white ropes marking you as his from the inside out, his hands planted firmly on your ass. “Fuck…” he panted, his chest heaving with uneven breaths as he wrapped one hand around the back of your head and pulled you down for a sloppy, open mouthed kiss. 

You and he kissed for a long moment after that, Ray’s hands moving up and down your slick back as you both came down from the most overwhelming highs you’d had in months. A soft laugh left your mouth and entered his as you pulled away just a bit, your eyes flickering up to his. “I think you’re a bit fogged up there,” you teased, pushing at the bridge of his glasses. 

Ray let out a deep laugh that vibrated through his chest and into yours. “It’s bloody hot in here,” he muttered, nuzzling his face into your neck and breathing in your scent, hoping to brand it into his senses like he did every time. His hands ran up and down your back, committing every inch of you to memory once again since he refused to waste a second not touching you.

Moments like this were precious, rare, and ones he cherished above all others, and he’d always savor every single second. After all, he never knew when he’d see you next, or if this was the last time. 

He took off his glasses and set them aside, still able to see you through the blurriness in his eyes. He looked down at you with a small, genuine grin on his lips as he lifted a hand and smoothed out your hair. “I have something for you,” he said, then reached over to the nightstand and picked up the joint he’d rolled the previous night but didn’t get around to smoking. “It’s quite fresh still. Rolled it last night.”

You took it from his fingers with a soft gasp, as if he’d just presented you with the best gift you could ever ask for. “I’ve missed your joints,” you groaned, leaning in and pressing a series of kisses to his cheek. “I almost want to save it. Take it with me and light it when I start to miss you.”

Ray hummed, wincing as you finally lifted yourself off him and reached over to set the joint down with more care than needed on the other nightstand that was closer to you. He pulled you back into his arms and cradled you against his chest, pressing a firm kiss to the top of your head. “You won’t miss me as soon as you leave again?” he asked, unable to stop the accusing tone from bleeding into his words, but he hated not having you around, and he hated never knowing where you were unless you were right in front of him. “‘Cause I know I’ll fucking miss you. I miss you every time you leave. Do you not miss me as much?”

You propped your chin up on his chest, your eyes soft and your expression sweet - two things he knew were reserved for him. “You know I do,” you whispered, running your fingers along his jaw. “Every single time I go. It’s not easy for me, Ray. It’s actually really fucking hard.”

Ray’s gaze softened as he looked down at you, and he cradled the back of your head in his hand. He hated the thought of you out there, putting yourself in danger because of your job. It never failed to leave a bitter taste in his mouth, and it fueled the growing need he felt to do something to get you away from that lifestyle. To keep you safe. 

“I know, love. I know it’s not easy. I know,” he said, gently tangling his fingers in your hair. “It kills me every time you leave. I hate… not knowing if you’re alright.”

You gave him a small smile. “You know I’m always careful, Ray,” you said, “You don’t need to worry about me.”

He wanted to say that he’ll always worry about you, but he bit his tongue, a muscle in his jaw twitching as he nodded. “Right,” he agreed, pressing his forehead against yours. “We’ll just make the most of the time we have, like we always do. But promise me something, yeah? Promise that you’ll always find your way back to me. It doesn’t matter how much time has passed. I’ll always want you.”

Your smile faded a bit at that, and you pressed your cheek against his chest. “I’m here now, right? I don’t think I could ever stop coming back to you. You’re the one thing keeping me sane, Ray,” you mumbled, pressing your palm flat against his abs. “I’m still here… even though I should be out there trying to make up the money I failed to deliver to my boss. He’s still expecting twenty grand by the end of the week. But I’m already fucked, so why not pop in and actually get fucked by you?”

Your voice held a hint of teasing in it, but he could feel the way you’d become a little on edge, and Ray also tensed up at your words. “Twenty grand? By the end of this week? The hell have you gotten yourself into?” he asked, sitting up slightly and looking down at you. 

You just shook your head, trying to shrug the conversation off. “It’s just my job, Ray,” 

But he wasn’t having any of that as he ran a hand down his face. “Look, I can help with the money, okay? It’s not a problem, just tell me how to do it without drawing… unnecessary attention,” he said, knowing he had that kind of money handy to him - the perks of being close with his boss. 

You let out a huff of air as you rolled onto your back and looked up at the ceiling, reaching up to play with the chain around your neck. “It’s because I missed the quota. He’s… really fucking stingy with that kind of thing, hence the… you know,” you gestured to your eye, and his own dropped down to the bruise again. “I was short two grand and he tripled the original price, made it twenty. But I’ll figure it out, Ray. I don’t… I won’t take your money.”

Ray let out a scoff at that, an anger beginning to build up inside him. Your boss fucking hit you, and probably did worse than that, more than once. The thought had his jaw locking. “He hit you because of two grand? That fucking cunt hit you because-” he had to hold off on saying what he wanted to say, because as much as he wanted to go off on your boss, it wouldn’t help right now. “Listen to me, you helped me out of a tight spot once, it’s about time I returned the favor, yeah?”

“Ray-”

“Don’t. Don’t give me that shit about not taking my money, alright? I think we’re way past that, love. I’m not letting you deal with this shit alone. No fucking way is that happening,” he said, cradling your jaw in his hand and turning your head so you were looking at him again. He leaned in and pressed a hard kiss to your lips before pulling back again. “I’m not offering out of pity or because I feel obligated to. I’m telling you to let me help you because I love you, you stubborn woman.”

Your breath hitched at that, and your eyes visibly widened, and he knew why. He’d never said that to you, that he loves you, but he does, and he has for a long time now. He just held the words back in hopes he could save them for when you came back to him for the last time, and you and he could finally be together, but he couldn’t stop himself from saying them now. 

He loves you, and he wants, needs, to help you out of a situation that would no doubt just get worse if you couldn’t find a way to get that money by yourself. You protect him, and he protects you. That’s the way it’s always been. 

You raised a hand and cupped his cheek, your head shaking slowly. “I’m not your responsibility, Ray. You have no reason to help me or take care of this for me. It’s all on me. I did this to myself,” 

Ray shook his head right back, his gaze intense as he held your stare. “Did no one ever tell you that you can ask for help when you need it? You’re not some burden, baby. What happens to you affects me, that’s how it’s always been,” he said, pressing his forehead against yours. “Let me do this for you, love. Please.”

You furrowed your brows, and it was obvious you were having an inner debate with yourself, and he didn’t know what side would win, but he was more than prepared to convince you more if he needed to. 

But you just gave him a defeated smile and nod as you tugged him down into a firm kiss. 

Ray melted into you, kissing you back as he pulled your body flush against his. “There’s my good girl,” he murmured, “Was that so hard?”

You nodded again, sliding your fingers into his hair as you pulled him down on top of you. “It was very hard,” you confirmed, then pulled him into another kiss. 

-

The next morning, after spending the rest of the night tasting and touching each other, you fell asleep in his arms. 

It was one of the best sleeps Ray has gotten in a while, and he knew it was all because of you. 

You were finally letting him in, letting him help you. You weren’t alone in this anymore. 

You’d woken up before him, that much was obvious when Ray woke up to the feeling of your soft lips on his, and your hands placed gently on his chest. “I love you too,” you said quietly, and the lazy smile that formed on his face was instantaneous. 

He was well aware that you hadn’t returned those words to him when he said them to you last night, and while he didn’t need you to, he just wanted you to know, there was no denying how happy he felt that you loved him too. 

His eyes opened slowly, expecting to have a rerun of last night before you had to go again, but when he tried to reach for you, he found one of his wrists tied to the headboard. By his own fucking tie. 

He tested how tight it was by pulling on it, only to find that it was extremely tight, because of course you knew how to tie someone up and keep them from getting out. “The fuck,” he muttered, looking over at you with narrowed eyes. “Untie me. Now.”

You gave him a miserable shrug as you moved out of his reach when he tried to grab you with the hand that wasn’t tied to his fucking headboard. “I can’t involve you in this, Ray. I guess I love you too much for that,” you said as you stood up, and you had already put your dress and boots back on while he was asleep. “It’s not your responsibility. It’s mine. I’ll be okay, I promise.”

Ray let out an annoyed grunt as he pulled on the tie again, but it was still secure. “Goddamnit, don’t you dare fucking walk out that door,” he said when you took a step away from the bed. “There is nothing responsible about risking your life for a piece of shit who puts his fucking hands on you. Do you hear me? Don’t you even fucking think about leaving me like this.”

You took another step away, pressing your lips together. “I’m sorry-”

“I love you. You hear me? I love you, even though you fucking piss me off all the time. Like right now,” he cut you off, “Let me help you, love. I can help you, alright? Please. Don’t leave me like this. Don’t make me lose you.”

Your eyes teared up at that, and you cleared your throat as you looked away. “You can’t lose something you never truly had, Ray,” you said quietly, and somehow those words hurt more than anything else. “Thank you for last night. For everything.”

You reached down and grabbed his phone from off the floor, tossing it at him so it landed beside him on the bed. 

“Sorry, you’ll have to call Pearson to come help you out of that. I hope it’s not too embarrassing,” you teased, even now as you gave him a watery smile. “I’ll see you soon, Ray. Promise.”

Then you were turning around and heading for the door, each step you took making Ray’s chest clench more and more. He watched as you disappeared around the corner, leaving him lying there, still completely naked with just the sheets pulled up around his hips, and his wrist tied to the headboard. 

He should’ve known you’d never actually let him in all the way, or let him take care of you. You’d always been independent, stubborn as fuck, and too proud to ever let someone help you even when you so clearly need it. 

“Not too embarrassing,” he scoffed, shaking his head as he reached for his phone. Of course this was going to be fucking embarrasing, and this won’t look good to Pearson - his best man being tied to his own bed after spending the night with the woman he’d warned Ray about each time you were brought up. Even his boss could see how much you meant to Ray, and while he usually encouraged him to keep things close that make him happy, he still wanted him to be wary of you. “Bloody hell.”

He slumped back against the pillows and let out a laugh of disbelief, not at the fact that you’d pulled this little stunt, but at the fact that, despite you taking Ray’s pride and ego with you, he still loves you.

-

First Ray fic, wooo, feels good. Thank you for reading x

@circe-04 @baleyszrian @deesh-e @pixelsbyella @latinakitty17 @tellersgal

[soldierboys]

THE BOYS 5.05 One-Shots

[bloatedandalone04]

Life of The Party

Summary: During one of the clubhouse’s many parties, you and Jax sneak away after you can’t keep your hands off each other, and end up in the cramped bathroom. Despite the limited space, Jax still knows your body better than anything else, and he knows exactly what to do to make you fall apart.

Word Count: 3.3k | I do not give consent to having my work republished or posted to any other platform or profile other than my own.

Warnings: smut, swearing, alcohol consumption, unprotected sex, hair pulling, overstimulation, dirty talk, slight/light choking, i am back to posting one shots, hope you like it.

The clubhouse was known for its rowdy parties, endless amounts of booze, drugs and cigarettes, and endless amounts of bikers and girls alike. It wasn’t uncommon for a party to be thrown at the clubhouse, and it wasn’t uncommon for the place to be packed and smell like smoke, cheap perfume and liquor. 

Tonight was no different. The place was crowded, minimal space left that wasn’t occupied, and everywhere Jax looked, he saw one of his brothers downing shots, smoking, or sucking the face off one of the crow eaters. 

He was blissfully minding his own business, his third beer in his hand as he sat on the couch that was tucked away in the corner. It was nice to see the guys relax and unwind a bit after all the shit they have to deal with for the rest of the club, and it was nice to not have to worry or look over his shoulder every few seconds. 

Even though his eyes wandered around the room every once in a while, Jax’s attention remained solely on you - his wife. You were a few feet away, a beer bottle in your own hand as you swayed to the loud music that was playing. You looked as hot as ever, your eyes fluttered shut as you ran your hand along the side of your body, looking content and happy and carefree, which is a sight he loved to see. 

God, you really are a dream, and Jax was still in disbelief that he’d managed to convince you to stay with him for as long as you’ve been together, let alone marry him. He knew he was one lucky bastard, knew he had no business being so hooked on the girl who lit up every room she walked into, but he also didn’t care. 

You and he met a year and a half ago, and right from the start you’d been pretty much inseparable. He’d fallen instantly for you and found out that the feelings were very much mutual, which resulted in you both throwing yourself into a pretty serious relationship early on. It moved fast, and within a year of knowing each other, he proposed, and six months ago, you and he tied the knot in a very typical Sons of Anarchy type of wedding, and neither of you had looked back since. 

Multiple girls had tried to get his attention tonight, but he waved them off and simply ignored them, the thick, silver wedding band on his finger not only a symbol of his loyalty to you, but an obvious sign to everyone else that he was taken and that they shouldn’t even bother wasting their time. 

You’d tried to get him to come over multiple times and dance with you, but he’d just shake his head, content with simply watching you since it felt like you were putting on a show just for him. He wasn’t embarrassed to dance with you, God knows you and he have done much more intimate and touchier things in public before, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to have his hands on you, touching every part he knew off by heart. 

Every time he denied your invitation, you pouted at him, trying to get him to come over by waving your hand at him, only to roll your eyes when he stayed completely still with a smirk painted on his lips. 

Your body swirled to the music as you seemed to give up on your quest, but after a few minutes, you turned to him again and smiled, lifting your hand to send him a flirty wave. “Come here,” you nearly whined when he shook his head again after you beckoned him over once more. “Come dance with me, baby. Please?” you pouted your lips at him again, batting your lashes for good measure after. 

Jax’s smirk only grew as he took the final swig of his beer before setting it down and standing up. He made his way towards you, easily moving between bodies before he reached you, and his hands came up to grab your hips. “You’re trouble, you know that?” he muttered, pulling your body right up against his. 

He dipped his head down, his forehead pressing against yours as his hands moved further down your body until they were on your ass, and he shamelessly groped you right then and there, because, again, you and he had done a lot worse in a crowded room. 

Your eyes shut as you leaned almost all your weight on him, trusting him completely to hold you up as you nodded. “I know I am,” you confirmed, “But you love me anyway.”

Jax lifted his hand and brushed your hair out of your face as he pulled back, letting his eyes flicker over every inch of you. “Love is a fuckin’ understatement, babe,” he said as his other hand squeezed your ass, his hips subtly bucking against yours as he felt himself growing hard - his body’s natural reaction to being near you. 

Your eyes opened at that and met his, and you sunk your teeth into your lip as a soft groan tumbled out of your mouth. “You’re so fucking hot,” you moaned, ditching your beer and banding your arms around his shoulders as you pressed yourself even closer. 

Jax let out a deep laugh at that, his head moving down to press kisses along your neck and shoulder from where the strap of your tank top had slipped down your arm. “You’re fuckin’ sexy,” he said back, his hand moving back down your body until it rested on the curve of your hip. 

A soft moan left your lips at that, but no one could hear it except for him since the music was too loud, and no one was really paying either of you much attention anyway. 

Your body practically melted against his as you pressed your thighs together, and one of your hands slid up to the back of his neck as you pulled him down into a kiss. Jax kissed you back as soon as your mouth met his own, his tongue darting out to deepen it as he swallowed your sounds. 

His hands squeezed every part of you they could as he tried to pull you impossibly closer, chasing the taste of beer on your tongue when you broke away for air. “Keep makin’ those noises, baby, and you’re gonna get fucked,” he promised, his voice a little hoarse as his hand slid up the back of your shirt, his other grabbing onto your ass once again. “We should probably get out of here, huh?”

You hummed, smiling against his lips as you nodded. You grabbed his hands and turned around, making a beeline for the bathroom down the hallway. There was a bedroom in the back in case he got too drunk to ride home or in case you needed a quick fuck to tie you both over, but clearly it was too far for you right now. It was kind of too far for Jax too. 

Once you were in the small bathroom, you pushed him up against the door after locking it, your lips finding his again in a deep, messy kiss as you kicked off your shoes. Jax grunted, the doorknob digging into his back as he grabbed a fistful of your hair, easily taking control of the kiss. 

His other hand slid down and grabbed onto your ass, and he squeezed it through your jeans. “Fuck, you want it bad, don’t you, baby?” he laughed, hand sliding from your hair to your hip as he turned you around so you were backed up against the door instead.

He caged you in with his body, his hands sliding down your sides before he unbuttoned your jeans and yanked them, along with your panties, down your legs. He kicked them into the corner, his eyes locked onto yours as he pressed one palm flat against the door beside your head. 

“‘M gonna fuck you so hard,” he promised, his lips curving upwards to match the grin you gave him at his words. “There’s my girl. You know I’ll always take care of you, huh?” 

He cupped your face in his hand as you nodded up at him, your lips already puffy and kiss swollen. His thumb brushed along your bottom one as your hands reached out and unzipped his jeans as well, pushing both them and his boxers down his legs so his cock could spring free, already rock hard and aching to be buried within your welcoming body. 

Jax pressed himself up against you, feeling the vibrations that were coming through the door since the party was still very much in full swing, and the building was crawling with people, but that’s never stopped you and him before. 

You pulled him closer, leaning up to kiss him as your arms draped around his shoulders. “I need you,” you mumbled against his mouth, your fingers instinctively trying to tangle in his hair that he’d recently cut off, so your nails just ended up scratching along the back of his neck instead. “Always need you.”

He grunted into your mouth as he reached down and grabbed onto your thigh, lifting it up over his hip so he had better access to you. His other hand grasped the base of his cock, and he lined himself up with you before sliding inside you with one thrust. 

Jax grunted, his jaw clenching a bit as he paused, letting you adjust to the stretch. It wasn’t often you and he fucked without some form of foreplay, though the kissing surely sped things up this time around, but you were also wet enough to not need anything else to prep you for him. It was a shame, because he quite enjoyed going down on you before, but there wasn’t exactly a lot of space in here to do that, and there wasn’t a whole lot of time either. 

“God, you’re fuckin’ tight,” he muttered, dropping his head against your shoulder as he rolled his hips forward, driving himself deeper into you - if that was even possible from how deep he already is. 

There was something so thrilling about fucking in a crowded place. There was a certain risk to it, even though he’s seen his fair share of club members buried face first in crow eaters, but still. Sex was intimate, at least it is with you, and you and he were pretty possessive of each other, which meant you could make out and grind on each other all you wanted in front of people, but this was all for him and you. 

You clenched around him, trying to suck him in even deeper, and Jax couldn’t imagine sharing this with anyone else. He didn’t really give a fuck if people heard you, but you were all his to see, and all his to feel. 

He braced one forearm on the door beside your head, the other hand holding your leg higher on his hip as he fucked into you, the force behind it making your body jolt and thud back against the door. “You like that, baby?” he rasped when you let out a long moan, already knowing you did. 

You just whined louder, possibly being heard by anyone passing by the hallway, but still not caring at all. Your leg wrapped tighter around his waist, your eyes falling shut as you pulled him closer by digging your heel into his lower back. “Fuck yes, I love it,” you answered, your fingers scratching at the leather of his kutte as your hands slid up his back. “Feels so good, Jax.”

Jax grunted, fingers digging into the skin of your thigh hard enough to leave bruises he’d left countless times before. They’d fade in a matter of days, and he’d get to mark you up all over again - something he was never fond of before he met you, but now, seeing his marks on you was all he ever wanted to see. 

“You’re mine,” he said, teeth dragging along the skin of your neck as he muffled his groans, his hips hitting yours over and over again. “Always gonna be mine, you hear me? All fuckin’ mine.”

You gasped at that, his thrusts a little harder with each word as your body thumped against the door. “Yours,” you agreed breathlessly, clinging onto the back of his neck with one hand while the other grabbed onto the side of his face and brought it up to yours. You kissed him as his own hand dropped down and started rubbing circles onto your clit, and he swallowed your moans as they increased in volume. 

Jax pulled away when he felt you clamp down around him, his teeth tugging on your lower lip. “You gonna cum on my dick, baby?” he muttered, his other hand sliding up to grip your chin, keeping your face level with his. “Gonna squeeze me so fuckin’ tight?”

You nodded quickly, eyes hooded and hazy as you struggled to keep them locked on his. “Yeah,” you managed to choke out, your body starting to tremble between his and the door. “Fuck… fuck. Yes.”

He felt you tighten even more around him, and when you tried to bury your face in his neck, he held your chin more firmly, wanting to see every reaction he got out of you as his cock never let up. He felt the way you became even warmer and even wetter, your body slumping against his as your arms wrapped tightly around his neck, fully counting on him to keep you upright. 

Your leg was shaking from its place around his waist, your lips parted as the sexiest sounds he’d ever heard in his life left them. “Oh, my God,” you slurred, eyes rolling back as he worked you through it, fucking you slowly through the aftershocks. 

“That’s it, babe. That’s my girl,” he whispered, pressing a firm kiss to your slightly open mouth before he finally let go of your chin, and you instantly pressed your face against his neck. 

You whimpered against his skin, body tense against his as you panted. “Don’t… don’t stop,” you said, hands clutching at the back of his kutte. “I want you… you to cum too.”

Jax grinned at that, turning his head and pressing a kiss to your cheek. “I know, baby. I will,” he said, keeping himself inside you with much slower thrusts. They were shallow now, slow enough to not overwhelm you as he let you come back down a bit, his hand cradling the back of your head. “Just givin’ you a minute. Think you need one.” 

He waited until you were a little more relaxed in his arms, not caring that you and he were occupying one of the two bathrooms the clubhouse has. When it came to you, there was always enough time to wait. 

Jax slowly pulled out of you, his cock still rock hard and wanting to be back inside your warm, addicting heat more than anything else. He turned with you and guided you backwards until you and he reached the sink, then he turned you around and bent you over it, helping you get into position. 

He gently kicked your feet apart, his hands gripping your hips and lifting you slightly as he slid back inside you. Your pussy swallowed him greedily as he grunted at being completely enveloped in your warmth once again. “Goddamn,” he grunted, pushing all the way inside you until his hips were against your ass, and your moans met his ears once more. 

Your hands wrapped around the edge of the sink, your eyes fluttering shut as you bit down on your lip. “Fuck,” you whimpered when he started to move again, setting a deep, steady rhythm. 

Each thrust pushed you against the sink, the edges of it digging into your hipbones. When you opened your eyes again, they met Jax’s in the mirror almost instantly, and he felt that possessive feeling flare up inside him again at how pretty you are. 

Why in the fuck you chose him to spend your life with, he’d never know, but the reason didn’t matter. He had you, and he was a selfish man; he’d never let you go. 

“Fuck, you look so hot,” he muttered, sliding one hand up your back and tangling his fingers in your hair. He tugged your head back, leaning down to press open mouthed kisses along your jaw and cheek as he thrust into you harder, making you whine with every jolt of your body. 

His other hand reached around you and groped one of your breasts through your shirt, bunching the fabric up between his fingers. You felt so good, your body being held up by the sink as you simply just took it, your mouth parted as choked moans escaped your throat. 

Jax let his eyes drop down to where you and he are connected, and he felt a familiar feeling building up inside him at the sight, so he quickly reached under you and found your clit again, his fingers just as relentless as his cock. “You’re gonna make me cum, babe,” he panted, “Want you to give it to me one more time.”

You whimpered, grabbing his hand that was on your chest and guiding it upwards until it was wrapped around your throat. Jax tightened his grip slightly, knowing exactly what you liked and what your limit is, and felt the way you started to flutter around him before you let out a strangled moan as you came. 

Unlike before, he never stopped or slowed down, fucking you through yet another high as his own took him over. He emptied himself inside you, hips flush against you as he filled you up, his steady thrusts from before turning into quick jerks instead. 

“You’re perfect,” he rasped, slumping over your back so he was pressed right up against you. He kissed along the back of your neck, his breathing quite heavy as he wrapped his arms around your waist. “So fuckin’ good for me.”

You leaned back against him, soft pants leaving your lips as you gave him a lazy, fucked out smile in the mirror - one he returned all too quickly. 

After a few moments passed, Jax slowly pulled out of you, both of you groaning at the loss. He turned you around and took you into his arms, his lips pressing against the side of your head as he held you close. “You good, baby?” he asked as his hand ran up and down your back.

“Mm, yeah, I’m good,” you answered, propping your chin on his chest and looking up at him. “I love you.”

Jax smiled down at you, one hand coming up to smooth out your hair as he leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips. “I love you,” 

You pulled back then winced, rubbing at your hips as you leaned back against the sink. “Fuck, I need another drink before we go home,” you said, “I’m definitely going to feel this tomorrow.”

Jax smirked a bit at that as he reached down and grabbed your jeans and panties for you, holding them out to you. “Sorry, babe,” he mumbled as he pulled up his own jeans and zipped them up. 

You gave him a look as you redressed yourself. “You’re not sorry at all,”

“Nah, I’m not,” he agreed, then wiped under your eyes with his thumbs, trying to fix your makeup as best as he could. “You’re lookin’ kinda like a hot mess here, baby.”

You shrugged, turning around to look at yourself in the mirror. You were smirking when you turned back to him and pressed yourself against his side. “I don’t care if it looks like I just got fucked,” you said, “This isn’t our first time sneaking away during a party.”

Jax reached for the door, unlocking it and pulling it open. “Good point,” he laughed, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you along with him back to where the party is, fully intending on getting you your drink before taking you home so he could take his time with you and love on you properly.

-

Side note: may start a Jax tags list for any future fics for him, let me know if you’re interested in being on it x

[bloatedandalone04]

Life of The Party

Summary: During one of the clubhouse’s many parties, you and Jax sneak away after you can’t keep your hands off each other, and end up in the cramped bathroom. Despite the limited space, Jax still knows your body better than anything else, and he knows exactly what to do to make you fall apart.

Word Count: 3.3k | I do not give consent to having my work republished or posted to any other platform or profile other than my own.

Warnings: smut, swearing, alcohol consumption, unprotected sex, hair pulling, overstimulation, dirty talk, slight/light choking, i am back to posting one shots, hope you like it.

The clubhouse was known for its rowdy parties, endless amounts of booze, drugs and cigarettes, and endless amounts of bikers and girls alike. It wasn’t uncommon for a party to be thrown at the clubhouse, and it wasn’t uncommon for the place to be packed and smell like smoke, cheap perfume and liquor. 

Tonight was no different. The place was crowded, minimal space left that wasn’t occupied, and everywhere Jax looked, he saw one of his brothers downing shots, smoking, or sucking the face off one of the crow eaters. 

He was blissfully minding his own business, his third beer in his hand as he sat on the couch that was tucked away in the corner. It was nice to see the guys relax and unwind a bit after all the shit they have to deal with for the rest of the club, and it was nice to not have to worry or look over his shoulder every few seconds. 

Even though his eyes wandered around the room every once in a while, Jax’s attention remained solely on you - his wife. You were a few feet away, a beer bottle in your own hand as you swayed to the loud music that was playing. You looked as hot as ever, your eyes fluttered shut as you ran your hand along the side of your body, looking content and happy and carefree, which is a sight he loved to see. 

God, you really are a dream, and Jax was still in disbelief that he’d managed to convince you to stay with him for as long as you’ve been together, let alone marry him. He knew he was one lucky bastard, knew he had no business being so hooked on the girl who lit up every room she walked into, but he also didn’t care. 

You and he met a year and a half ago, and right from the start you’d been pretty much inseparable. He’d fallen instantly for you and found out that the feelings were very much mutual, which resulted in you both throwing yourself into a pretty serious relationship early on. It moved fast, and within a year of knowing each other, he proposed, and six months ago, you and he tied the knot in a very typical Sons of Anarchy type of wedding, and neither of you had looked back since. 

Multiple girls had tried to get his attention tonight, but he waved them off and simply ignored them, the thick, silver wedding band on his finger not only a symbol of his loyalty to you, but an obvious sign to everyone else that he was taken and that they shouldn’t even bother wasting their time. 

You’d tried to get him to come over multiple times and dance with you, but he’d just shake his head, content with simply watching you since it felt like you were putting on a show just for him. He wasn’t embarrassed to dance with you, God knows you and he have done much more intimate and touchier things in public before, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to have his hands on you, touching every part he knew off by heart. 

Every time he denied your invitation, you pouted at him, trying to get him to come over by waving your hand at him, only to roll your eyes when he stayed completely still with a smirk painted on his lips. 

Your body swirled to the music as you seemed to give up on your quest, but after a few minutes, you turned to him again and smiled, lifting your hand to send him a flirty wave. “Come here,” you nearly whined when he shook his head again after you beckoned him over once more. “Come dance with me, baby. Please?” you pouted your lips at him again, batting your lashes for good measure after. 

Jax’s smirk only grew as he took the final swig of his beer before setting it down and standing up. He made his way towards you, easily moving between bodies before he reached you, and his hands came up to grab your hips. “You’re trouble, you know that?” he muttered, pulling your body right up against his. 

He dipped his head down, his forehead pressing against yours as his hands moved further down your body until they were on your ass, and he shamelessly groped you right then and there, because, again, you and he had done a lot worse in a crowded room. 

Your eyes shut as you leaned almost all your weight on him, trusting him completely to hold you up as you nodded. “I know I am,” you confirmed, “But you love me anyway.”

Jax lifted his hand and brushed your hair out of your face as he pulled back, letting his eyes flicker over every inch of you. “Love is a fuckin’ understatement, babe,” he said as his other hand squeezed your ass, his hips subtly bucking against yours as he felt himself growing hard - his body’s natural reaction to being near you. 

Your eyes opened at that and met his, and you sunk your teeth into your lip as a soft groan tumbled out of your mouth. “You’re so fucking hot,” you moaned, ditching your beer and banding your arms around his shoulders as you pressed yourself even closer. 

Jax let out a deep laugh at that, his head moving down to press kisses along your neck and shoulder from where the strap of your tank top had slipped down your arm. “You’re fuckin’ sexy,” he said back, his hand moving back down your body until it rested on the curve of your hip. 

A soft moan left your lips at that, but no one could hear it except for him since the music was too loud, and no one was really paying either of you much attention anyway. 

Your body practically melted against his as you pressed your thighs together, and one of your hands slid up to the back of his neck as you pulled him down into a kiss. Jax kissed you back as soon as your mouth met his own, his tongue darting out to deepen it as he swallowed your sounds. 

His hands squeezed every part of you they could as he tried to pull you impossibly closer, chasing the taste of beer on your tongue when you broke away for air. “Keep makin’ those noises, baby, and you’re gonna get fucked,” he promised, his voice a little hoarse as his hand slid up the back of your shirt, his other grabbing onto your ass once again. “We should probably get out of here, huh?”

You hummed, smiling against his lips as you nodded. You grabbed his hands and turned around, making a beeline for the bathroom down the hallway. There was a bedroom in the back in case he got too drunk to ride home or in case you needed a quick fuck to tie you both over, but clearly it was too far for you right now. It was kind of too far for Jax too. 

Once you were in the small bathroom, you pushed him up against the door after locking it, your lips finding his again in a deep, messy kiss as you kicked off your shoes. Jax grunted, the doorknob digging into his back as he grabbed a fistful of your hair, easily taking control of the kiss. 

His other hand slid down and grabbed onto your ass, and he squeezed it through your jeans. “Fuck, you want it bad, don’t you, baby?” he laughed, hand sliding from your hair to your hip as he turned you around so you were backed up against the door instead.

He caged you in with his body, his hands sliding down your sides before he unbuttoned your jeans and yanked them, along with your panties, down your legs. He kicked them into the corner, his eyes locked onto yours as he pressed one palm flat against the door beside your head. 

“‘M gonna fuck you so hard,” he promised, his lips curving upwards to match the grin you gave him at his words. “There’s my girl. You know I’ll always take care of you, huh?” 

He cupped your face in his hand as you nodded up at him, your lips already puffy and kiss swollen. His thumb brushed along your bottom one as your hands reached out and unzipped his jeans as well, pushing both them and his boxers down his legs so his cock could spring free, already rock hard and aching to be buried within your welcoming body. 

Jax pressed himself up against you, feeling the vibrations that were coming through the door since the party was still very much in full swing, and the building was crawling with people, but that’s never stopped you and him before. 

You pulled him closer, leaning up to kiss him as your arms draped around his shoulders. “I need you,” you mumbled against his mouth, your fingers instinctively trying to tangle in his hair that he’d recently cut off, so your nails just ended up scratching along the back of his neck instead. “Always need you.”

He grunted into your mouth as he reached down and grabbed onto your thigh, lifting it up over his hip so he had better access to you. His other hand grasped the base of his cock, and he lined himself up with you before sliding inside you with one thrust. 

Jax grunted, his jaw clenching a bit as he paused, letting you adjust to the stretch. It wasn’t often you and he fucked without some form of foreplay, though the kissing surely sped things up this time around, but you were also wet enough to not need anything else to prep you for him. It was a shame, because he quite enjoyed going down on you before, but there wasn’t exactly a lot of space in here to do that, and there wasn’t a whole lot of time either. 

“God, you’re fuckin’ tight,” he muttered, dropping his head against your shoulder as he rolled his hips forward, driving himself deeper into you - if that was even possible from how deep he already is. 

There was something so thrilling about fucking in a crowded place. There was a certain risk to it, even though he’s seen his fair share of club members buried face first in crow eaters, but still. Sex was intimate, at least it is with you, and you and he were pretty possessive of each other, which meant you could make out and grind on each other all you wanted in front of people, but this was all for him and you. 

You clenched around him, trying to suck him in even deeper, and Jax couldn’t imagine sharing this with anyone else. He didn’t really give a fuck if people heard you, but you were all his to see, and all his to feel. 

He braced one forearm on the door beside your head, the other hand holding your leg higher on his hip as he fucked into you, the force behind it making your body jolt and thud back against the door. “You like that, baby?” he rasped when you let out a long moan, already knowing you did. 

You just whined louder, possibly being heard by anyone passing by the hallway, but still not caring at all. Your leg wrapped tighter around his waist, your eyes falling shut as you pulled him closer by digging your heel into his lower back. “Fuck yes, I love it,” you answered, your fingers scratching at the leather of his kutte as your hands slid up his back. “Feels so good, Jax.”

Jax grunted, fingers digging into the skin of your thigh hard enough to leave bruises he’d left countless times before. They’d fade in a matter of days, and he’d get to mark you up all over again - something he was never fond of before he met you, but now, seeing his marks on you was all he ever wanted to see. 

“You’re mine,” he said, teeth dragging along the skin of your neck as he muffled his groans, his hips hitting yours over and over again. “Always gonna be mine, you hear me? All fuckin’ mine.”

You gasped at that, his thrusts a little harder with each word as your body thumped against the door. “Yours,” you agreed breathlessly, clinging onto the back of his neck with one hand while the other grabbed onto the side of his face and brought it up to yours. You kissed him as his own hand dropped down and started rubbing circles onto your clit, and he swallowed your moans as they increased in volume. 

Jax pulled away when he felt you clamp down around him, his teeth tugging on your lower lip. “You gonna cum on my dick, baby?” he muttered, his other hand sliding up to grip your chin, keeping your face level with his. “Gonna squeeze me so fuckin’ tight?”

You nodded quickly, eyes hooded and hazy as you struggled to keep them locked on his. “Yeah,” you managed to choke out, your body starting to tremble between his and the door. “Fuck… fuck. Yes.”

He felt you tighten even more around him, and when you tried to bury your face in his neck, he held your chin more firmly, wanting to see every reaction he got out of you as his cock never let up. He felt the way you became even warmer and even wetter, your body slumping against his as your arms wrapped tightly around his neck, fully counting on him to keep you upright. 

Your leg was shaking from its place around his waist, your lips parted as the sexiest sounds he’d ever heard in his life left them. “Oh, my God,” you slurred, eyes rolling back as he worked you through it, fucking you slowly through the aftershocks. 

“That’s it, babe. That’s my girl,” he whispered, pressing a firm kiss to your slightly open mouth before he finally let go of your chin, and you instantly pressed your face against his neck. 

You whimpered against his skin, body tense against his as you panted. “Don’t… don’t stop,” you said, hands clutching at the back of his kutte. “I want you… you to cum too.”

Jax grinned at that, turning his head and pressing a kiss to your cheek. “I know, baby. I will,” he said, keeping himself inside you with much slower thrusts. They were shallow now, slow enough to not overwhelm you as he let you come back down a bit, his hand cradling the back of your head. “Just givin’ you a minute. Think you need one.” 

He waited until you were a little more relaxed in his arms, not caring that you and he were occupying one of the two bathrooms the clubhouse has. When it came to you, there was always enough time to wait. 

Jax slowly pulled out of you, his cock still rock hard and wanting to be back inside your warm, addicting heat more than anything else. He turned with you and guided you backwards until you and he reached the sink, then he turned you around and bent you over it, helping you get into position. 

He gently kicked your feet apart, his hands gripping your hips and lifting you slightly as he slid back inside you. Your pussy swallowed him greedily as he grunted at being completely enveloped in your warmth once again. “Goddamn,” he grunted, pushing all the way inside you until his hips were against your ass, and your moans met his ears once more. 

Your hands wrapped around the edge of the sink, your eyes fluttering shut as you bit down on your lip. “Fuck,” you whimpered when he started to move again, setting a deep, steady rhythm. 

Each thrust pushed you against the sink, the edges of it digging into your hipbones. When you opened your eyes again, they met Jax’s in the mirror almost instantly, and he felt that possessive feeling flare up inside him again at how pretty you are. 

Why in the fuck you chose him to spend your life with, he’d never know, but the reason didn’t matter. He had you, and he was a selfish man; he’d never let you go. 

“Fuck, you look so hot,” he muttered, sliding one hand up your back and tangling his fingers in your hair. He tugged your head back, leaning down to press open mouthed kisses along your jaw and cheek as he thrust into you harder, making you whine with every jolt of your body. 

His other hand reached around you and groped one of your breasts through your shirt, bunching the fabric up between his fingers. You felt so good, your body being held up by the sink as you simply just took it, your mouth parted as choked moans escaped your throat. 

Jax let his eyes drop down to where you and he are connected, and he felt a familiar feeling building up inside him at the sight, so he quickly reached under you and found your clit again, his fingers just as relentless as his cock. “You’re gonna make me cum, babe,” he panted, “Want you to give it to me one more time.”

You whimpered, grabbing his hand that was on your chest and guiding it upwards until it was wrapped around your throat. Jax tightened his grip slightly, knowing exactly what you liked and what your limit is, and felt the way you started to flutter around him before you let out a strangled moan as you came. 

Unlike before, he never stopped or slowed down, fucking you through yet another high as his own took him over. He emptied himself inside you, hips flush against you as he filled you up, his steady thrusts from before turning into quick jerks instead. 

“You’re perfect,” he rasped, slumping over your back so he was pressed right up against you. He kissed along the back of your neck, his breathing quite heavy as he wrapped his arms around your waist. “So fuckin’ good for me.”

You leaned back against him, soft pants leaving your lips as you gave him a lazy, fucked out smile in the mirror - one he returned all too quickly. 

After a few moments passed, Jax slowly pulled out of you, both of you groaning at the loss. He turned you around and took you into his arms, his lips pressing against the side of your head as he held you close. “You good, baby?” he asked as his hand ran up and down your back.

“Mm, yeah, I’m good,” you answered, propping your chin on his chest and looking up at him. “I love you.”

Jax smiled down at you, one hand coming up to smooth out your hair as he leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips. “I love you,” 

You pulled back then winced, rubbing at your hips as you leaned back against the sink. “Fuck, I need another drink before we go home,” you said, “I’m definitely going to feel this tomorrow.”

Jax smirked a bit at that as he reached down and grabbed your jeans and panties for you, holding them out to you. “Sorry, babe,” he mumbled as he pulled up his own jeans and zipped them up. 

You gave him a look as you redressed yourself. “You’re not sorry at all,”

“Nah, I’m not,” he agreed, then wiped under your eyes with his thumbs, trying to fix your makeup as best as he could. “You’re lookin’ kinda like a hot mess here, baby.”

You shrugged, turning around to look at yourself in the mirror. You were smirking when you turned back to him and pressed yourself against his side. “I don’t care if it looks like I just got fucked,” you said, “This isn’t our first time sneaking away during a party.”

Jax reached for the door, unlocking it and pulling it open. “Good point,” he laughed, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you along with him back to where the party is, fully intending on getting you your drink before taking you home so he could take his time with you and love on you properly.

-

Side note: may start a Jax tags list for any future fics for him, let me know if you’re interested in being on it x

[bloatedandalone04]

Just Give Me A Reason | 8

Summary: After a rather one sided talk with Jax, and another run in with Tara, you’re left feeling confused and even more upset than before on what was supposed to be a happy day. But after a much needed interruption, and a confession, things start to become clearer, and you start to feel excited about your trip back to New York. | Series Masterlist

Word Count: 4.4k | I do not give consent to having my work republished or posted to any other platform or profile other than my own.

Warnings: fluff, angst, mentions of smut, indications of smut, swearing, toxic friendships.

Jax sat up quickly on your bed, his eyes wide as he watched you slowly stand back up. “What? When?” he asked, shaking his head as he stood up as well. “What the fuck are you- what are you talkin’ about?”

You weakly shrugged, avoiding his eyes as you looked down at the floor. “Maybe the day after tomorrow? I want to help him get settled back home,” you said then looked over at him, and you must’ve seen the look of pure disbelief on his face as a look of guilt started to form on yours. “I came back for my dad, Jax. And he’s all better now. There’s nothing else keeping me here.”

But Jax just shook his head again. “That’s bullshit. That’s bullshit, and you fuckin’ know it,” he said, reaching out to grab onto your elbows, his touch firm but not rough. “What about us? We still need to figure out this thing between us. You can’t just leave without talkin’ about it with me.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, lifting one hand up and cradling your forehead. “There should’ve never been an us again, Jax,” you mumbled, “I don’t regret… reconnecting with you, but we should’ve slowed it down. We shouldn’t have gone as far as we did, because now it’s just going to hurt all over again when I leave.”

Jax wrapped his hand around your wrist, his fingers sliding down to lace with yours as he gave you a desperate squeeze. “You didn’t think that a few days ago. I know you didn’t. You seemed more than ready to stay here a few days ago,” he pointed out, feeling his face heat up and his eyes starting to sting, but he tried his best to push that all back down. “Don’t let what happened between Tara and I drive you away again. I need you. I need you here with me. Please, don’t let my mistake be what takes you away from me for good.”

Your gaze softened at that, and you shook your head slowly. “It’s not just about that, Jax,” you said, looking down at your joined hands. “Yeah, finding out about you and Tara… that really fucking sucked. But it’s not just about you and her.”

Jax’s brows furrowed, and he shook his own head. “What else is it about?”

Your eyes flickered up to his, and you gave him a miserable shrug. “Everything happened so fast. You and I went right back to how we were before, and it almost felt like nothing had changed and like I’d been here the whole time,” you said quietly, sniffling afterwards. “And then Tara told me that you and her were together… or you were trying to be together, and it made me feel all possessive and angry and crazy-”

“That’s not true,” Jax said as his hand tightened around yours, and he felt the anger from before starting to come back, but it wasn’t directed at you. Of course Tara had put it into your head that they’d been anything but mere fuck buddies. After finding out all the shit that went on during yours and hers friendship, it wasn’t a surprise that she’d tried to make you think he’d felt anything real towards her. “Her and I were just messin’ around. It was never serious for me, and it was never goin’ to go anywhere.”

But you just pulled your hand away, shaking your head again. “That doesn’t matter, Jax,” you said, sounding so defeated as you took a few steps away from him and ran your hands down your face. “We both just jumped straight into where we left things, we never really had a chance to talk about it before we were in too deep. This isn’t my home anymore, Jax. My life isn’t here anymore. Yours is, and I hate knowing that the second you found someone else to possibly spend your life with, I came back and ruined everything for you.”

“You didn’t ruin everythin’,” he insisted, prepared to get down on his knees and fucking beg you if he needed to. “And I was prepared to live the rest of my life thinkin’ I could never love someone like I love you ever again. Then you came back, and you proved me right.” He moved closer to you, his hands coming up to frame your face, and when you tried to look away, he angled your head back until your eyes met his, and tears had gathered in your waterlines, mirroring the ones in his. 

“You’re the only person I want to spend the rest of my life with. I knew that fifteen fuckin’ years ago,” he promised, eyes narrowing as he stroked his thumbs along your cheeks. “I was never going to settle down with Tara. I don’t know what she told you, but she was never even an option. The only girl I want to be with is you. Nothing’s changed for me from eight years ago. You bein’ here now only proved that.”

Your hands came up to wrap around his wrists, and for a few short seconds you leaned into his touch, but then you were pulling back. “I can’t,” you whispered, and it was then when the tears started falling down your cheeks, and he couldn’t do a damn thing about it. “I think you should go.”

Jax felt his heart break even more, and his chest physically hurt, like his heart was trying to push its way out of his body so it could be safe with you. “Doll,” he said, moving towards you, “Babe.”

“I need you to go, Jax,” you said a little louder, but you were on the verge of breaking down. That much was obvious by the way your voice wavered, and the way you were trying to blink away more tears. “Please.”

He hated knowing that he was leaving you to cry by yourself, but you asked him to, and he wasn’t going to go against your wants now, especially after all the shit that’s happened in such a short amount of time.

So, wordlessly, Jax retrieved his clothes and pulled them back onto his body, the walk of shame he was about to do making him feel ten times worse. Once he was dressed, he walked over to you, and thankfully you didn’t push him away when he placed one hand on the back of your head. He leaned in and pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead, hoping like fuck that this isn’t the last time he’d ever get to kiss you or touch you. 

Then he pulled back and gave you one final look before turning and taking the same route you and he took not even half an hour ago, this time all by himself while you cried by yourself in your room. 

-

You spent the rest of the afternoon, and most of the evening, crying yesterday while trying to pack your bag through blurry vision. 

Your crash back down to earth was painful, and it was brutal, and everything you swore to yourself you’d never go through again, but here you are. You’d lost Jax Teller all over again, and this time it felt like it was completely your fault. 

Things had been damn near fucking perfect, then they were ripped away and shattered with a single conversation with the one person you never thought you’d let hurt you again, but once again, here you are. 

You had no idea how much of what Tara said was true, especially since Jax had sworn that she was full of it when you mentioned her saying that things were very close to becoming official between them. 

Yes, you probably could’ve found out a lot more things and have had a clearer head today because of it had you let Jax stay and explain everything, but it was all just too much at once. You and he had become so serious again so quickly, you barely had time to sit back and think about what this would mean for the two of you going forward, and then you’d become so upset after your run in with Tara, you weren’t sure if you even wanted to have that conversation. 

And on top of that, your dad was better, and he was able to go home today. 

So you cleaned yourself up, showered, then made your way to the hospital so you could be there when he gets checked out. 

You were a little more cautious now at the hospital, constantly looking around to make sure Tara wasn’t anywhere near you, because she was a big reason why yours and Jax’s bubble of bliss was rudely popped, though not the only reason, which you kind of hated. 

It’d be so much easier if she were to blame for everything, but she unfortunately wasn’t. 

As it seems, luck wasn’t on your side today, because your mom had started gathering up your dad’s things from his room, and she’d asked if you could check him out while she got everything organized.

At the nurse’s station, you were given a clipboard to sign out, as well as a list of medication your dad would need to take every day for the rest of his life. As you were thanking the girl behind the desk, you felt her before you saw her.  

She was like a dark cloud as she stood behind you, and you refused to look at her until she spoke up. “You ruined everything,” Tara said, sounding so sure of herself, you had no choice but to turn around and face her. 

“What?” 

Tara narrowed her eyes, arms coming up to cross over her chest. “You just had to come back home, didn’t you? Things were good before you came back. Jax and I were finally getting somewhere, then you show up and he forgets all about me,” she said, as if your dad getting sick and you wanting to be there for him had some sort of ulterior motives attached to it. “I hope you’re proud of yourself.”

You squinted at her, facing her fully as you stood a little straighter. “Do you hear yourself right now? You sound crazy,” you said, “Me coming back had nothing to do with you or Jax, it was for my dad. I didn’t know things would go as far as they did, let alone so quickly. But that’s not my fault. It’s not anyone’s fault. You were clearly trying to rush something with Jax that he wasn’t ready for, and he and I ended up finding our way back to each other. It had nothing to do with you. Quit blaming me for your life not turning out the way you want it to, Tara. It’s getting to be really pathetic.”

She laughed, but you could tell your words had a certain affect on her as she clenched her jaw before swallowing harshly. “I’m the pathetic one? Really? You’re the one who thinks Jax will chase after you when you leave again, when he’ll always be here, with me,” she stated, “Jax doesn’t chase after anyone, especially someone who has left him once before. It’ll actually be easier this time, I bet. Only now I won’t have to wait so long to get him. I’m sure I’ll be back in his bed the day after you leave. Maybe even the same day.”

You never thought about the fact that she and Jax probably had sex multiple times in his bed - the same bed you’d spent an incredible night in not too long ago, and the bed you’d already grown very fond of. 

It was hard enough to think about the other women who have slept in his bed, but to think that Tara did was just too much, because you knew that was all she ever wanted, and it was just another thing for her to rub in your face. 

It made your skin crawl, and that sick, heavy feeling of jealousy started to crawl its way back up your body, threatening to give you that final push that would have you lashing out in a matter of seconds. 

Punching a doctor isn’t such a bad idea now, since your dad was already checked out. But you’d probably get arrested and charged since you would’ve been the one to start it, and there were countless witnesses around to prove that.

Still, she’d pushed you too far once again, and her face has never looked so punchable until now. 

Fuck it. You don’t really have anything else to lose at this point. 

But just as you lifted your arm and started to move towards her, an all too familiar hand wrapped around your elbow, and you were pulled back into a chest that was so achingly familiar too. 

The scent of leather, smoke and something that was all Jax filled your senses as he held you against his chest, one hand cradling the back of your head while the other one smoothed up and down your back. “It’s not worth it, baby,” he murmured, his voice sounding so deep as he brushed his lips along the shell of your ear, and you were desperate to keep hearing it. “She’s not worth it.”

That had the tears coming back almost instantly, and you clung onto the sides of his kutte as you buried your face in his chest. 

“Jax,” you heard Tara’s surprised voice, and you felt it when his hold on you tightened. “I was just-”

“Shut the fuck up,” he said, and you would’ve let out a laugh at the deserving words if you weren’t on the verge of breaking down right there in the middle of the hospital. “Walk away, Tara. You don’t get to keep fillin’ her head with lies and any other bullshit you think she needs to hear.”

It was silent for a few seconds, then you heard a set of footsteps starting to walk away, but Jax’s chest vibrated as he called out to her one last time, 

“And you and I both know you’ve never been in my bed, and you never will,”

That had your head lifting, and you turned it to look over your shoulder so you could watch the flush form on Tara’s face, the obvious result of her being caught in a lie, before she quickly made her way down the hall. 

“Thank fuck,” you breathed, squeezing your eyes shut as you buried your face in Jax’s chest once again, breathing him in and letting his scent ground you and keep you under control. You were beyond glad to know that Tara lied about sleeping in his bed, because that seemed to be your final breaking point for some reason, and you already started to feel a little better. 

“Jax,” you said when you started to pull away, but he pulled you back, seemingly unable to let you go right now. 

“I know, I have no business bein’ here,” he said, smoothing his big hand down the back of your head, and just that alone made you feel so safe and protected. “I just needed to see you, and when I stopped by your dad’s room and he told me you were checkin’ him out, I… fuck, I haven’t felt that shitty in a long time, doll.”

Your eyes stung with more tears, and when you pulled back again, he let you, his hands moving to cradle your face. 

“I know you’re goin’ back. I know you’re leavin’ me again,” he said, his thumbs brushing along the skin under your eyes. “You have a life away from me, I get that. But I love you. You’re the only person I’ve ever loved, and I want everythin’ with you. I… fuck, I want to marry you, start a family with you. You’re the only one I’ve ever wanted to do all that shit with.”

A heavy feeling was starting to weigh down on you, and you weren’t sure why. Jax had just told you everything you’d been dying to hear for years, and you were definitely happy about that, but your head was still a jumbled mess, and you were desperately trying to make sense of everything. 

Before you could get stuck in your own head again, Jax brought you back by leaning in and kissing your forehead, his lips brushing against your skin. “I should’ve gone with you. I should’ve gone with you to New York. I should’ve never let us spend so many years apart,” he whispered, and you felt your heart skip multiple beats inside your chest. “You’ve always been it for me, and I should’ve fought harder for you.”

And somehow, that weight from before completely lifted, and your lips parted as you looked up at him, but you couldn’t find a single word to say to him that would impact him as much as what he just said impacted you. 

So you pressed your cheek against the front of his kutte, and you wrapped your arms around his body. Jax held you just as tightly, his face burying in your neck as you finally felt yourself relax for the first time in days, and the tears that were making their way down your face weren’t because you were sad and angry, but because you were happy and relieved and you felt loved. 

You felt safe and protected, and you’d only ever felt that with Jax. 

He’d pretty much just told you that he would’ve given up the club, his life here, his status as VP, and his future Presidency, all to be with you, and all so you and he never had to spend more than a day away from each other. 

That told you everything you needed to know, and it left you feeling lighter than you had in weeks. 

The moment didn’t last long, because you heard the sound of your dad’s voice nearing the nurse’s station, and you pulled away from Jax, wiping at your eyes. “My dad,” you mumbled, clearing your throat. “I need to get him home.”

Jax nodded, his hand sliding down to your lower back, and when you looked up at him, you could see in his eyes that he wanted to say something. Maybe he wanted to ask where things go from here, or ask if you could continue this at a better time, or maybe he even wanted to beg you to stay. 

But he didn’t say a thing, because he had never pressured you once in all the years you’ve known him, so why would he start now? 

You leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, and you could feel the way his hand pressed against your back more firmly, almost like he had to force himself back and not deepen it.

“We’ll talk later, okay?” you promised, and Jax nodded again. 

You gave his hand a gentle squeeze before you stepped away, and just as you did, your parents rounded the corner. Your dad looked so much better, and your mom was as happy as ever next to him, her body tucked against his side. 

Your dad’s eyes flickered from you, then behind you at Jax, then back to you. “Everything okay, sweetheart?”

You nodded, giving him a small smile. “Yeah, I’m okay,” you said, then you helped your mom guide your dad, who was still a little weak, out to the car, where you focused all your attention onto them, because there was no rush now. 

There would be time to talk later.

-

Jax remembered the very first time he watched you pack your things for your big move to New York. 

He was sitting on your bed, similar to the way he is now, and he was so fucking pissed off as he watched you put your clothes and books and pictures into the various bags and suitcases you had scattered around your room. 

He was in his twenties at the time, mad and annoyed that you were going off to pursue something that would turn out to be so fucking good for you, and all while you were packing your things, he was trying to think of a way to keep you here. But he couldn’t force you back then, and he can’t force you now. 

Jax is in his thirties now, once again on your bed as he watched you pick up your clothes and fold them neatly in your suitcase that was open on the end of the bed. Unlike how he felt back then, mad at the world, he was quite content right now as he leaned back against your pillows on the queen sized bed he was surprised you were actually able to fit in your room. 

He watched as you bent down to grab your collection of books from off the bottom self of the bookcase tucked in the corner, and the hem of his shirt you wore lifted up, giving him an unfair and teasing glimpse of the panties you were wearing - the same ones he took off of you just over an hour ago. 

Jax smirked, propping his hands behind his head. “I can get used to this,”

You stood up straight, lifting a brow as you put the books in a cardboard box you’d brought back with you. “I thought you came with me so you could help me pack up all my stuff,” you pointed out as you moved back over to the shelf. 

“Nah, I came to see what was so good about the place that kept you away from me for so long,” he said, looking around your bedroom that was equally as small as the rest of your apartment. “I don’t see one single picture of me in here.”

You scoffed, shaking your head as you tucked your notebooks and old textbooks into the box as well, then you set it aside to be taped down later. “Yeah, because I spent most of my time here trying to get over you,” you replied, walking around the bed so you were a little closer to him. “It would’ve been even harder to do that if I had a picture of you to come home to every day. That would’ve made it impossible for me to move on.”

Jax lifted a brow, sitting up straighter so the sheets fell around his hips. “Yeah? And how’d that work out for you in the end?” he asked, reaching for your hand. 

You pursed your lips and shrugged. “Not very well,”

Jax smirked up at you, “That’s what I thought,” he said, tugging on your hand and pulling you onto the bed with him so you were straddling his lap. 

Your hands came to rest on his bare shoulders while his grabbed onto your waist, and you let out a soft groan. “I can’t believe I’m moving back to Charming,” you whined, “What the hell am I supposed to do there?”

“Be with me,” Jax answered, giving you a shrug. He laughed when you gave him an unimpressed look, and his hands moved to your thighs that were bracketed at his hips. “You could do what you did here. Shit happens all the time in Charming, you’d never run out of things to report.”

You let out a laugh, then lifted a brow. “I can’t be a reporter because you and the club would be in the news all the time. I’d prefer to not expose all the illegal shit my boyfriend and his club do every day,” 

Jax hummed, nodding. “Good point,” his hands ran up and down your smooth skin as he thought of something else. “You studied Law. Why don’t you do somethin’ with that?” he suggested, “You could make a lot bein’ a lawyer, especially in Charming. You’d look hot too.”

A scoff mixed with a laugh left your lips, but he could see the way you were actually thinking it over. “I can’t be your lawyer, since, well, you know. And I don’t think I could be any of the club’s lawyer either since I’m too close to them,” you thought out loud. “But I could be someone’s lawyer. And I can offer you all the legal advice you won’t bother listening to until it’s too late.”

“See? You’ve already got everythin’ all figured out,” he said, giving you a teasing grin as he leaned in and started pressing kisses along your neck. “That gives us time to do more of this.”

You laughed, placing your palm over his peony tattoo as you tipped your head back. “We can’t, Jax,” you whined, but didn’t stop him when he started to lift his shirt up your body. “I’m never going to finish packing if you keep distracting me with sex.”

Jax lifted his head and looked at you, an accusing look in his eyes. “You didn’t seem to mind when I made you cum three times an hour ago,” he grinned, pulling the shirt off you completely and tossing it aside. His hands smoothed up your back, and he pulled you close so your bare chest was pressed against his. “C’mon, babe. One more time, then I’ll start helpin’ you pack. Promise.”

You gave him a look that told him you didn’t believe him, and you were right about that since one round almost always turned into two, and then after you’re both too tired to do anything but lay in each other’s arms. 

Still, your resistance faded completely as you leaned in and kissed him, your arms wrapping around his shoulders. His hands slid up your back, his right hand covering the crow on your shoulder as he kissed you a little harder. 

Through the closed window, the sounds of traffic and people honking cut through the silence, and Jax groaned against your mouth. “Fuck, I hate New York,”

You smiled against his lips, “One more time, then you can take me back home,” you said, and that had Jax tightening his hold on you as he rolled you onto your back, his body slotting perfectly between your thighs as he leaned in and kissed you. 

“I love you,” he muttered against your mouth. 

Your hands slid up his back, your nails gently scratching along his skin. “I love you,” you said back, then leaned up and kissed him again.

He was all too ready to take you away from this place and back home, where it felt like you always belonged with him. But he wasn’t going to rush things, because it was clear to both of you now that you’d be with each other for the rest of your lives, and today was just the beginning of forever for the two of you.

-

I can’t believe this series is over!!! I’m so sad but so happy with how it turned out, and I hope you are too. It is safe to now say that these two ended up back together and happier than ever, and may even make a reappearance sometime in the future if inspiration strikes. 

Thank you so much for reading x

@purplerainx1 @anonymouse1807 @tellersgal @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @samcroweater @meet-mr-mayhem @galacticinfiltratormachine

[bloatedandalone04]

Just Give Me A Reason | 7

Summary: You start to ignore Jax’s calls and barely answer his texts, and he knows something is seriously wrong. When he tries to get answers from you, he’s told to find them elsewhere, and when he ends up at the hospital, he confronts the one person who might have helped him destroy any shot at a second chance with you. | Series Masterlist

Word Count: 5.7k | I do not give consent to having my work republished or posted to any other platform or profile other than my own.

Warnings: angst, smut, toxic friendships, swearing, unprotected sex, hair pulling, i hate writing summaries, and i cannot believe there’s only one more part after this.

You hadn’t returned any of Jax’s calls over the last couple of days, and your texts have been short and lacked any of your usual personality that always came through, even over the phone. 

The last time he saw you was that night at the hospital, where you all but ignored him even as he sat right next to you, and the tension between you and him had grown to a point where even your dad picked up on it. 

He didn’t understand how things had gone from being so fucking good between you and him, to this. He knew you and he still needed to sit and have a long talk about what was going to happen between you, but the fact that you seemed to be okay with never having that discussion, and instead running back to New York wasn’t sitting well with him. It made him feel horrible, and there had been this weight on his shoulders ever since you insinuated it. 

How were you just so… done with him already? Like the last week and a half you’d been back was completely one-sided, when he knew it wasn’t. You felt everything he did, and there was no question about that. So what was the issue?

One thing you and he never did when you were together was hide things from each other or keep secrets. You talked when something was wrong, or if something was bothering one of you. Of course, that didn’t mean that things were the same now, especially since you and he didn’t officially get back together, but you’d gotten pretty fucking close to, at least he thought so. 

It was unlike you to just shut off like that, and he’d only seen you do it a handful of times in the past before he told you that there wasn’t a need to keep secrets from each other, and that if something was ever bothering you, he wanted to be there for you.

After that, you came to him with anything and everything on your mind, expecting him to do the same, and he did. You are the only person outside the club that he’d told everything about it to, all the bad shit they’ve done, all the bad shit they’re planning on doing, and all the shit that they’ve got heading their way. 

It was easier to keep you in the loop rather than out of it, and while it did bring a certain risk to you, Jax knew that as long as he was alive and breathing, he’d never let anything happen to you. 

With that in mind, he grew tired of trying to call and text you before he pocketed his phone and started the short ride to your parents house. He wanted to check there first since it was closer to the clubhouse than the hospital is, and when he saw your dad’s truck in the driveway, he had a feeling that you were there. 

Jax got off his bike and made his way up to the front door. He knocked twice before stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans, his eyes glancing around the neighbourhood that was a lot nicer than the one he lives in, and one he felt good knowing you were living in when you still lived here since hardly anything happened on this street, if ever. 

A few seconds later, the door opened, and there you were, looking as alive and well and as hot as ever, so you seemed to be more than capable of answering your phone, but have just decided not to for some reason. 

Instead of greeting him with a smile, you crossed your arms as you leaned against the doorframe, seemingly making a show of not instantly inviting him in. “Another slow day, Prez?” you asked, your tone sounding bored and a little hostile, and it would’ve had him stepping back if he wasn’t used to hearing people talk like that. “Because mine’s a little jam packed. I don’t really have time to entertain you today.”

Jax huffed out a short laugh, his head shaking as he lifted one arm and braced it above your head on the doorframe. “Nah, doll, my day’s pretty fuckin’ packed too,” he said, leaning in closer to you so he was at your eye level. “But I can’t seem to focus on anythin’, because you’ve been ignorin’ me. You’ve been avoidin’ me.”

You narrowed your eyes a bit, shifting on your feet as you shook your head as well. “I’m not avoiding-”

“Yeah, babe, you are,” he said, his tone leaving no room at all to argue, because he knew for a fact that you were putting distance between you and him, and there was really no point in you trying to deny it. “And I wanna know why. You and I were good a few days ago, then you just fuckin’ shut down after I dropped you off at the hospital. You aren’t answering my calls, you’re barely textin’ me back. I want to know what happened.”

You stayed silent for a few seconds, the only sound being the short scoff you let out. You tilted your head, your temple pressing against the doorframe as you looked up at him, and the expression you wore had him feeling a little desperate to know what he did to fuck this up so badly already. You looked hurt, and he hated it, especially since it was clear that he was the one who hurt you somehow. 

Before he could start begging, you lifted your shoulder in a shrug. “Why don’t you ask Tara?” 

That had him freezing, then his whole body tensed up. It was obvious by the look on your face and the hostility in your voice that you knew he’d been seeing her before you came back. But how? When did Tara get you alone for long enough to tell you that? How much had she told you? And did you still think he was seeing her even now that you’re back?

Jax took a step towards you, his voice suddenly a little panicky. “What are you-”

“You heard me,” you cut him off, pushing off the doorframe and moving away from him. “Go ask your little girlfriend, then come back here and ask me why the fuck I’m so upset.” 

Before Jax could say anything else, you slammed the door in his face, and he almost didn’t hear it over the sound of his heart beating in his ears. He wanted to knock again- no, he wanted to fucking break the door down and have you tell him everything Tara told you, but that would do no good at all. You’re clearly pissed at him, and you’ve got every reason to be. 

It made sense now, why as soon as he’d walked you to your dad’s room the other day, you were suddenly so distant. The fucking look Tara had given him made sense now, even though he had a feeling he knew what it meant that night in the hallway. 

She told you that he’d been fucking her before you came back to Charming, and while he knew it was a shitty and horrible thing to do, he was so sure he’d never see you again. He was so sure that you’d never find out about it, because he knew it would fucking crush you, and that is the last thing he’d ever want to do. 

He promised you, a long fucking time ago, that he’d never hurt you. That he’d be the one person in your life that would put you above himself and anyone else, and he meant that promise. He meant everything he said to you, both back then and now. 

You weren’t supposed to come back. You’d been gone for so long, he was so fucking sure he’d been holding onto something he’d never get back. He’d been holding onto you, and he had for so long, it started to feel like he’d be holding onto you for the rest of his life, even though you were never going to come back to him. 

But then you did, and he felt like he could fucking breathe again. 

Of course, it had to be a few months after he started fucking around with Tara. He had no idea how much she told you, but he was pretty sure she didn’t mention the fact that he’d only let himself indulge in her because she reminded him of you. 

Yeah, he briefly went to high school with her, and she was sometimes around after you graduated because she was your best friend, but every single memory he had with her, he also had with you. You were always there, and being with her felt like being with you, because he’d only ever been around her when he was around you. 

It was easier to pretend she was you because of your history with her. It was easier to pretend that it was you he was with, and it almost felt like he could actually open his eyes while he was inside her and see your face staring back at him. 

But there was no way Tara told you that, because she probably wasn’t even aware of the fact he was only with her because she reminded him of you. But she wasn’t you, because no one would ever come close to you, and he knew that.

You’d never forgive him, that much he knew. Why would you? He’d done something horrible, even though you weren’t even here, and you and he had long since broken up. 

There was something so ironic about the fact that the one time he decided to say fuck it and be reckless and do something that could cost him you, was just a few months before you came back and you and he started something that could so easily be ripped away from him now because of his stupid fucking mistake. 

Jax would’ve never even looked twice at her if he knew that you’d come back to him one day. He would’ve never even entertained the thought of sleeping with her if he knew that he’d be with you only a few months later. 

What he did was bad, and he knew that it was bad. But Tara was there, and every time he looked at her, he saw you. 

How would he ever be able to explain that to you? Would you even give him a chance to?

There were so many questions swirling around inside his head, Jax didn’t know where to even begin to get the answers to them. 

He knew a good place to start though, and before he started pounding on the door again, he turned around and walked back over to his bike, not even able to find the humor in the fact he was still going to the hospital, even after finding you at your house. 

-

Finding Tara was easy since he already knew the route to her office, and when he turned the corner and saw her leaving it, he reached out and wrapped his hand around her wrist, turning her back around and pushing her back inside the small room. 

She seemed surprised, but there was no mistaking the excitement on her face when she turned her head and saw that it was him, but he just felt disgust as he looked back down at her. “Oh, right now?” she laughed as he shut the door rather loudly behind him. She moved closer, lifting one hand and resting it on his stomach, just above his jeans. “I don’t have my break for another forty-” 

“Stop,” Jax muttered, shoving her hand away from him. “What did you say to her?”

Tara narrowed her eyes, her features twisting into an annoyed expression as she caught onto who he was talking about. “Seriously? She told you?” she rolled her eyes, seemingly more than a little irritated that he wasn’t here to bend her over the desk and instead to talk about you. 

“No, she didn’t,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest as he stared down at her. “She doesn’t want to fuckin’ talk to me now that you ran your mouth off. What did you say to her?”

Tara rolled her eyes again, which did nothing to settle the building rage Jax could feel inside his chest. “I was messing around, I didn’t-”

“Tara,” he nearly shouted, his deep voice echoing off the walls of her office as he moved towards her. “What the fuck did you say to her?”

She flinched, her jaw clenching a bit as she shrunk under his gaze. “I told her everything. About you and me. Us,”

That had Jax letting out a heavy exhale through his nose, his stare ice cold and dangerous as he tried to reel himself back in. “Why,” he muttered, his voice shaking with restraint on just that one word. “Why did you do that?”

Tara gave him a look of fake pity. “Because she deserved to know,”

“Bullshit,” he growled, towering over her as he got in her face. “Why the fuck did you have to involve yourself? This had nothin’ to do with you.”

She let out a laugh, moving to lean back against her desk. “Do you know why she and I stopped being friends?” she asked instead of answering his question, and Jax furrowed his brows slightly. 

He never did find out why yours and her friendship ended, though he knew it ended badly and you were upset about it for months after. He’d just assumed the friendship ran its course, and that not everyone would be friends for the rest of their lives. 

Tara must’ve been able to tell that he had no idea what the reason was by the look on his face, and she leaned forward. “Because the whole time she was with you, I wanted you,” she said, her voice level and calm and devastating at the same time. “She never deserved you, and I knew that. That’s why we stopped being friends, because she knew I could give you a better life, and she didn’t want to risk it, I guess. Doesn’t really matter what the reason was now, because in the end, I got you.”

Jax reeled back at that, his face twisting up in disgust as he shook his head. He always thought Tara was a bit too flirty with him in the past, but he never assumed it was because she had a thing for him. He thought that was just her personality, because why would she try to flirt with her best friend’s boyfriend? 

That just makes what he did ten times worse, and that sick feeling from before came back instantly.

“She’s never going to forgive me,” he mumbled, the realization hitting him like a truck. “And you knew exactly what this would do to her if she ever found out.”

Tara pursed her lips as she looked away. “Knowing her, yeah, she probably won’t forgive you,” she said, and he looked over at her with the coldness returning in his eyes. “But it’s okay, baby. You still have me.”

When she reached out to touch him, Jax grabbed her wrist and halted her attempt at assuring him. “Don’t call me that,” he said, voice barely above a whisper but still sounding so deadly. “And you don’t know her. Not anymore. You’re not her, and you never will be. You fuckin’- You and I are done, Tara. I’m not wastin’ another second of my fuckin’ life with you.”

He let go of her, and she had the nerve to look offended as she slumped back against the desk, and he had to turn and leave before he blew up completely. 

But before he could open the door, he turned his head and gave her one final jab. “The only reason I was with you, was because you were the closest thing I had to her,” he said, and Tara let out a gasp and opened her mouth to reply, but Jax pulled open the door and slammed it behind him, effectively ending the conversation. 

Out in the hall, he had to take a few seconds to calm himself down and will his hands to stop shaking with the urge to drive his fist into the first thing that was closest to him, then he was off again. 

He passed by your dad’s room on his way out, and Jax noted that he looked a lot better. Before, he was pale and had circles under his eyes, and he just looked sick, but he seemed to be getting better, which was good, but also kind of fucking bad, because what did that mean for you and Jax? You were here for your dad, after all, and you said that you wouldn’t be here after he got better. 

Jax hoped like hell that he was still able to have that conversation with you, and that he’d be able to convince you to stay with him, or at least to stay in Charming, because he needed you, and he couldn’t lose you again. 

Not even an hour had passed since he went to your parents house, but here he is again, barely turning off his bike before he was walking up the pathway to the front door and knocking on it once again, this time more forceful than before since he was still pretty wound up. 

When you opened the door, you looked a little surprised to see him again, as if you didn’t think he’d actually go do what you told him to do to get answers as to why you’re so upset with him. 

Before you could say anything, he spoke first. “I fucked up,” he said, and you closed your mouth that had parted only seconds before to say something. “I know I fucked up. I know I hurt you, and that’s the last thing I ever wanted to do.”

You seemed to deflate a bit at that, like he’d just given you the confirmation you desperately didn’t want, and Jax wanted nothing more than to go back to a few months ago, shut down Tara’s advances and wait for you to come back to him. He would’ve done this so much differently if he knew you were. 

“We need to talk about this. I need to explain it to you,” he said, and you tensed up at that. “Please. Just… just let me explain it to you.”

A few seconds passed, and Jax was sure you were going to slam the door in his face again, but then you were moving out of the way and opening the door even more. “Never thought I’d see the day where Jax Teller actually begged,” you said, but your voice lacked any humor.

Jax stepped into the house, shutting the door behind him as you moved over to the couch. You leaned against the back of it, crossing your arms over your chest as you looked up at him. He took a step towards you, not wanting to crowd you but desperately wanting to be near you. “I’m so sorry,” he said, shaking his head. “If I’d known you’d… If I thought there was even a chance that you… Fuck, I’m so fuckin’ sorry, doll.”

You quickly looked at the floor, biting down on the inside of your cheek. You didn’t say anything for a couple of seconds before you let out a soft sigh, your own head shaking. “Why her? Why Tara out of all people, Jax?” you asked, your voice wavering with each word as you continued to avoid eye contact with him. “Anyone else, I wouldn’t have… I wouldn’t have cared, I… Why did it have to be her?”

He took another step towards you. “I’m sorry-”

“Why Tara, Jax?” you asked again, raising your voice and making him abruptly stop. 

His shoulders dropped in defeat, but he was not done fighting for you. Not by a long shot. “Because she was the last thing I had from when I had you,” he answered, and you looked up at him with wet eyes. “She was the only thing I had left from when I had you, and she was the one and only person who reminded me of you.” 

You pressed your lips together, bringing one hand up to wipe at your eyes. “I’m not like her, Jax. Tara and I are nothing alike, I-”

“I know,” he said quickly, moving towards you against his better judgement. He cradled your face in his hands, grateful you didn’t push him off or away like he was expecting you to. “I know you’re not. You’re… God, babe, you’re nothin’ like her. You’re not like anyone. No one else has ever even come close to you.”

You looked up at him with a miserable expression on your face, your bottom lip trembling as his thumbs wiped under your eyes. “You were all she ever wanted, Jax,” you whispered, sounding more broken than he’d ever heard you sound, and it tore his fucking heart out to know he was the reason why. “You were the only reason she ever wanted to be my friend. As long as you were around me, so was she. She tried so hard to take you from me.”

“I know,” he repeated, going against his better judgement again and pressing a firm kiss to your forehead, because he wasn’t sure if he’d ever get to do it again. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever get to hold you like this again, and that thought terrified him. “I know. She told me everythin’ and I… I didn’t know that was the reason you stopped hangin’ out with her. You were the only thing that mattered to me back then. You were the only person I ever fucking saw, I- fuck, I’m so sorry.”

You shrugged weakly, “I don’t know what I’m supposed to say. What do you want me to say? I have no right to be pissed at you for… for sleeping with Tara, but I am, Jax,” you said, blinking away more tears. “I hate that you were with her. I hate that after all the shit she tried when we were together, she still got to have you.”

“She never had me,” Jax quickly corrected you, “Yeah, I was with her, but my heart was always with you. She never had all of me, not like you did. Not like you still do.”

He dropped his forehead to yours, one hand cradling the back of your head as he held you close, unwilling to let you go in case you never let him get this close ever again. 

“It was like havin’ a tiny piece of you back, but it wasn’t real. It was just empty,” he murmured, pulling back a bit so he could meet your eyes. “You’re the only girl I’ve ever loved. My one and only. You’re everythin’ to me. I love you.”

Your eyes widened at that, but it wasn’t because you were surprised to hear those words. You had to know by now how fucking out of his mind in love with you he is. You probably just never expected to hear him say them again, like he never expected to say them to any girl ever again, especially to you, because he was convinced you were gone for good. 

A shaky sigh left your lips, and you hesitantly raised your hands and rested them on his chest, as if you were unsure if you could even touch him now, when in reality, every single part of him was yours to touch. 

Your eyes dropped down to his lips for a few seconds, and he watched you have an inner debate with yourself before you leaned up and brushed a soft kiss to his mouth. It was warm and gentle and sweet and just like the one you and he shared at the bar the first night he spent with you when you got back. 

Jax wrapped his arms around you, holding you even closer as he kissed you back, the gentleness of it making him want to drop to his knees and beg you for forgiveness. He wanted to erase the images he knew were playing inside your head, ones of him and Tara. He wanted to make you forget all about it, to erase any doubt from your mind that he was anyone else’s. He was yours, and he always had been. 

You pulled away and he chased your lips for more, not wanting the moment to end so quickly, because it was so easy to lose himself in you and forget about all the bad shit around him. 

“I’m so fuckin’ sorry,” he whispered against your mouth, his hand smoothing down your hair as he pressed another kiss to your lips. He closed his eyes as his forehead pressed against yours, his other hand cradling your jaw. “I never meant to mess things up again. You’re all I’ve ever wanted, baby.”

You let out a soft, barely audible sound at that, your hand reaching up to grab onto his, and you laced your fingers together. You pulled him along with you, taking the same route you and he used to all the time - the one that led to your old bedroom. 

Once you were inside, Jax barely had any time to look around and see if anything in it had changed before you turned around to face him again, your hands reaching for his shoulders as you kissed him once more. 

He kissed you back, his tongue slipping past your lips to brush against your own as his hands reached down and grabbed onto your hips. He pulled you flush against his body, his lips breaking away from yours and instead latching onto your neck. 

Jax knew you and he still needed to talk and that you still needed to figure things out, but he was letting you take full control right now, and as you pressed yourself even closer to him, it was clear that what you wanted right now was this. 

And he’d never deny you what you wanted, and he’d never say no to loving you. There would be time to talk after. 

His hands slid down to grab your thighs as he kissed you again, and he lifted you up, guiding your legs to lock around his waist. He moved over to the bed and sat down on the end of it with you straddling his lap, his lips still pressed firmly against yours. 

When he pulled back, he buried his face in your neck, hands grabbing onto your hips and guiding your body to grind slowly against his. “You’re fuckin’ perfect,” he breathed against your skin, unable to stop himself from sucking a mark onto your skin. “Tell me you’re mine. Tell me I haven’t fucked this up all over again.”

He had no idea if he was overstepping, if he even had a right to say that to you, but he was desperate to know if there was still a chance, and if you were still as much his as he is yours. 

You moaned softly, your eyes fluttering shut as you tangled your fingers in his hair and pulled gently. “I’m yours,” you whispered, moving your hips against his, and your words filled him with hope once again. Your hands moved to the front of his kutte, and you pushed it off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. His shirt followed quickly after, and then your hands were all over his bare chest. 

Jax pulled off your shirt as well, his hand sliding up your back to unhook your bra before they both joined the growing clothes pile next to the bed. He dipped his head down and pressed kisses to the tops of your breasts before he sucked one nipple into his mouth, his hand moving to caress the other one. 

You let out a louder moan, growing more needy as you rocked your hips against his a little faster, then you were pulling away from him. “Take off your jeans,” you breathed as you stood up from his lap, and he quickly kicked off his sneakers. You reached down and guided your sweats and panties down your legs, kicking them off to the side at the same time Jax lifted his hips and tugged his jeans and boxers down as well, leaving you both completely bare. 

“Fuck, look at you,” he muttered, reaching for you and pulling you back onto his lap. Your core pressed against his cock that was already rock hard and aching for you, and you rubbed yourself against him as he leaned in and kissed you deeply. 

You whimpered softly, grabbing onto his shoulders for stability as you lifted yourself up. Your forehead pressed against his as you lowered yourself onto him, his cock stretching you out like it always does at the start of every round. 

A low moan left Jax as you settled on his lap, your arms wrapping tightly around his shoulders as you pressed your chest flush against his. “Fuck,” he grunted, his hands grabbing hold of your waist as he looked up at you through hooded lids.

You slowly rolled your hips against his, your hands scratching gently along his shoulders before they slid up into his hair and pulled again. You leaned down and kissed him, your tongue brushing against his as you moved on his lap, feeling as tight and as warm and as perfect as ever. 

Jax kissed you with just as much need, swallowing each and every one of your sweet sounds you made as you worked yourself on his cock. His hands moved up and down your back, feeling every part of you he already knew off by heart. “So good, baby,” he murmured against your mouth, “I love you so much.”

He placed one hand firmly against your lower back, holding you securely against his body as he shifted on the bed, turning you over so you were laying down and he was hovering over you. He braced his weight on one elbow, his eyes dark as he looked down at you and moved his hips against yours. 

You looked effortlessly beautiful, your eyes hooded and hazy as you stared back up at him, your lips parted and swollen from his, and the look of trust and love he could see written all over your face. He didn’t blame you for not saying those three words back, at least not yet. You told him wordlessly, and that was more than enough for now. 

One of his hands slid under your knee, and he guided your legs higher on his waist. “I’ll make it up to you, doll,” he swore, “I promise. Just don’t leave me again.”

Jax leaned down and kissed you, his hips rocking into yours with deep, slow thrusts that had you moaning against his lips and clawing at his back. Your legs locked tighter around his waist, your head falling back against the pillow as you closed your eyes. “Fuck,” you moaned, heels digging into his lower back. “Jax.”

He increased the pace only slightly, feeling the way you tightened around him and started getting a little louder. “Cum for me,” he mumbled against your skin, pressing kisses all over your neck and shoulder. “C’mon, baby. I’ve got you. I always got you.”

Your hand tugged at his hair as you arched your back, a broken moan leaving your throat as you started to shake under him. Seconds later, he felt your warmth flood around him, sucking him impossibly deeper inside your warm, addictive body. “Fuck,” you gasped again, clinging onto him like he was your lifeline. 

Jax groaned, his hips moving a little faster as he worked you through your high until he felt his own start. He came with a deep grunt, his head falling to your shoulder as he filled you up. “Christ,” he muttered, his hips jerking as he held himself above you on his forearms. 

He kissed your neck and throat, nuzzling against your warm skin as he settled then stilled on top of you. You and he stayed like that for a long time after, holding each other as you regained control over your breathing. 

A little while later, you pried yourself from his arms and stood up, reaching for your panties and shirt, and you pulled them back on while Jax reached for his boxers and slid them up his legs before he leaned back against the pillows. 

The tension from before felt like it was starting to come back, and he didn’t like it, but he wasn’t sure what to say that wouldn’t make it come back even quicker.

He looked around your room, taking this time to see if anything had changed. Your old books were still on the shelf, your desk still had your notebooks on it, and on your dresser were various framed pictures. One of you and your mom, one of you and your dad, and one of you and Jax that was taken just after you graduated high school, with you in your graduation gown, tucked against his side. 

The corners of his mouth turned upwards at that, but he didn’t comment on it, instead he looked back at the one of you and your father, then he looked over at you. “I saw your dad today,” he said, watching you walk over to your suitcase that was tucked away in the corner of your room. “He looks good. Better. That’s good.”

You nodded in agreement, bending down to pull something out of the suitcase, and Jax instantly became distracted by the sight. “Yeah, it is,” you said, then fell silent as you paused. You looked over your shoulder at him, your expression one of sadness and guilt, and he felt his heart stop briefly in his chest. “He’s better, so… so I think I’m going to go back to New York.”

And it was then when he realized that you and he didn’t just have makeup sex, you had goodbye sex, and as he looked down at your suitcase, he realized that you hadn’t pulled something out of it, you’d put something back in it. 

You were packing your bags again because you were leaving him again, and that sight had Jax’s heart breaking for the second time in his life.

-

@purplerainx1 @samcroweater @meet-mr-mayhem @anonymouse1807 @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @tellersgal @galacticinfiltratormachine

[bloatedandalone04]

Just Give Me A Reason | 7

Summary: You start to ignore Jax’s calls and barely answer his texts, and he knows something is seriously wrong. When he tries to get answers from you, he’s told to find them elsewhere, and when he ends up at the hospital, he confronts the one person who might have helped him destroy any shot at a second chance with you. | Series Masterlist

Word Count: 5.7k | I do not give consent to having my work republished or posted to any other platform or profile other than my own.

Warnings: angst, smut, toxic friendships, swearing, unprotected sex, hair pulling, i hate writing summaries, and i cannot believe there’s only one more part after this.

You hadn’t returned any of Jax’s calls over the last couple of days, and your texts have been short and lacked any of your usual personality that always came through, even over the phone. 

The last time he saw you was that night at the hospital, where you all but ignored him even as he sat right next to you, and the tension between you and him had grown to a point where even your dad picked up on it. 

He didn’t understand how things had gone from being so fucking good between you and him, to this. He knew you and he still needed to sit and have a long talk about what was going to happen between you, but the fact that you seemed to be okay with never having that discussion, and instead running back to New York wasn’t sitting well with him. It made him feel horrible, and there had been this weight on his shoulders ever since you insinuated it. 

How were you just so… done with him already? Like the last week and a half you’d been back was completely one-sided, when he knew it wasn’t. You felt everything he did, and there was no question about that. So what was the issue?

One thing you and he never did when you were together was hide things from each other or keep secrets. You talked when something was wrong, or if something was bothering one of you. Of course, that didn’t mean that things were the same now, especially since you and he didn’t officially get back together, but you’d gotten pretty fucking close to, at least he thought so. 

It was unlike you to just shut off like that, and he’d only seen you do it a handful of times in the past before he told you that there wasn’t a need to keep secrets from each other, and that if something was ever bothering you, he wanted to be there for you.

After that, you came to him with anything and everything on your mind, expecting him to do the same, and he did. You are the only person outside the club that he’d told everything about it to, all the bad shit they’ve done, all the bad shit they’re planning on doing, and all the shit that they’ve got heading their way. 

It was easier to keep you in the loop rather than out of it, and while it did bring a certain risk to you, Jax knew that as long as he was alive and breathing, he’d never let anything happen to you. 

With that in mind, he grew tired of trying to call and text you before he pocketed his phone and started the short ride to your parents house. He wanted to check there first since it was closer to the clubhouse than the hospital is, and when he saw your dad’s truck in the driveway, he had a feeling that you were there. 

Jax got off his bike and made his way up to the front door. He knocked twice before stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans, his eyes glancing around the neighbourhood that was a lot nicer than the one he lives in, and one he felt good knowing you were living in when you still lived here since hardly anything happened on this street, if ever. 

A few seconds later, the door opened, and there you were, looking as alive and well and as hot as ever, so you seemed to be more than capable of answering your phone, but have just decided not to for some reason. 

Instead of greeting him with a smile, you crossed your arms as you leaned against the doorframe, seemingly making a show of not instantly inviting him in. “Another slow day, Prez?” you asked, your tone sounding bored and a little hostile, and it would’ve had him stepping back if he wasn’t used to hearing people talk like that. “Because mine’s a little jam packed. I don’t really have time to entertain you today.”

Jax huffed out a short laugh, his head shaking as he lifted one arm and braced it above your head on the doorframe. “Nah, doll, my day’s pretty fuckin’ packed too,” he said, leaning in closer to you so he was at your eye level. “But I can’t seem to focus on anythin’, because you’ve been ignorin’ me. You’ve been avoidin’ me.”

You narrowed your eyes a bit, shifting on your feet as you shook your head as well. “I’m not avoiding-”

“Yeah, babe, you are,” he said, his tone leaving no room at all to argue, because he knew for a fact that you were putting distance between you and him, and there was really no point in you trying to deny it. “And I wanna know why. You and I were good a few days ago, then you just fuckin’ shut down after I dropped you off at the hospital. You aren’t answering my calls, you’re barely textin’ me back. I want to know what happened.”

You stayed silent for a few seconds, the only sound being the short scoff you let out. You tilted your head, your temple pressing against the doorframe as you looked up at him, and the expression you wore had him feeling a little desperate to know what he did to fuck this up so badly already. You looked hurt, and he hated it, especially since it was clear that he was the one who hurt you somehow. 

Before he could start begging, you lifted your shoulder in a shrug. “Why don’t you ask Tara?” 

That had him freezing, then his whole body tensed up. It was obvious by the look on your face and the hostility in your voice that you knew he’d been seeing her before you came back. But how? When did Tara get you alone for long enough to tell you that? How much had she told you? And did you still think he was seeing her even now that you’re back?

Jax took a step towards you, his voice suddenly a little panicky. “What are you-”

“You heard me,” you cut him off, pushing off the doorframe and moving away from him. “Go ask your little girlfriend, then come back here and ask me why the fuck I’m so upset.” 

Before Jax could say anything else, you slammed the door in his face, and he almost didn’t hear it over the sound of his heart beating in his ears. He wanted to knock again- no, he wanted to fucking break the door down and have you tell him everything Tara told you, but that would do no good at all. You’re clearly pissed at him, and you’ve got every reason to be. 

It made sense now, why as soon as he’d walked you to your dad’s room the other day, you were suddenly so distant. The fucking look Tara had given him made sense now, even though he had a feeling he knew what it meant that night in the hallway. 

She told you that he’d been fucking her before you came back to Charming, and while he knew it was a shitty and horrible thing to do, he was so sure he’d never see you again. He was so sure that you’d never find out about it, because he knew it would fucking crush you, and that is the last thing he’d ever want to do. 

He promised you, a long fucking time ago, that he’d never hurt you. That he’d be the one person in your life that would put you above himself and anyone else, and he meant that promise. He meant everything he said to you, both back then and now. 

You weren’t supposed to come back. You’d been gone for so long, he was so fucking sure he’d been holding onto something he’d never get back. He’d been holding onto you, and he had for so long, it started to feel like he’d be holding onto you for the rest of his life, even though you were never going to come back to him. 

But then you did, and he felt like he could fucking breathe again. 

Of course, it had to be a few months after he started fucking around with Tara. He had no idea how much she told you, but he was pretty sure she didn’t mention the fact that he’d only let himself indulge in her because she reminded him of you. 

Yeah, he briefly went to high school with her, and she was sometimes around after you graduated because she was your best friend, but every single memory he had with her, he also had with you. You were always there, and being with her felt like being with you, because he’d only ever been around her when he was around you. 

It was easier to pretend she was you because of your history with her. It was easier to pretend that it was you he was with, and it almost felt like he could actually open his eyes while he was inside her and see your face staring back at him. 

But there was no way Tara told you that, because she probably wasn’t even aware of the fact he was only with her because she reminded him of you. But she wasn’t you, because no one would ever come close to you, and he knew that.

You’d never forgive him, that much he knew. Why would you? He’d done something horrible, even though you weren’t even here, and you and he had long since broken up. 

There was something so ironic about the fact that the one time he decided to say fuck it and be reckless and do something that could cost him you, was just a few months before you came back and you and he started something that could so easily be ripped away from him now because of his stupid fucking mistake. 

Jax would’ve never even looked twice at her if he knew that you’d come back to him one day. He would’ve never even entertained the thought of sleeping with her if he knew that he’d be with you only a few months later. 

What he did was bad, and he knew that it was bad. But Tara was there, and every time he looked at her, he saw you. 

How would he ever be able to explain that to you? Would you even give him a chance to?

There were so many questions swirling around inside his head, Jax didn’t know where to even begin to get the answers to them. 

He knew a good place to start though, and before he started pounding on the door again, he turned around and walked back over to his bike, not even able to find the humor in the fact he was still going to the hospital, even after finding you at your house. 

-

Finding Tara was easy since he already knew the route to her office, and when he turned the corner and saw her leaving it, he reached out and wrapped his hand around her wrist, turning her back around and pushing her back inside the small room. 

She seemed surprised, but there was no mistaking the excitement on her face when she turned her head and saw that it was him, but he just felt disgust as he looked back down at her. “Oh, right now?” she laughed as he shut the door rather loudly behind him. She moved closer, lifting one hand and resting it on his stomach, just above his jeans. “I don’t have my break for another forty-” 

“Stop,” Jax muttered, shoving her hand away from him. “What did you say to her?”

Tara narrowed her eyes, her features twisting into an annoyed expression as she caught onto who he was talking about. “Seriously? She told you?” she rolled her eyes, seemingly more than a little irritated that he wasn’t here to bend her over the desk and instead to talk about you. 

“No, she didn’t,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest as he stared down at her. “She doesn’t want to fuckin’ talk to me now that you ran your mouth off. What did you say to her?”

Tara rolled her eyes again, which did nothing to settle the building rage Jax could feel inside his chest. “I was messing around, I didn’t-”

“Tara,” he nearly shouted, his deep voice echoing off the walls of her office as he moved towards her. “What the fuck did you say to her?”

She flinched, her jaw clenching a bit as she shrunk under his gaze. “I told her everything. About you and me. Us,”

That had Jax letting out a heavy exhale through his nose, his stare ice cold and dangerous as he tried to reel himself back in. “Why,” he muttered, his voice shaking with restraint on just that one word. “Why did you do that?”

Tara gave him a look of fake pity. “Because she deserved to know,”

“Bullshit,” he growled, towering over her as he got in her face. “Why the fuck did you have to involve yourself? This had nothin’ to do with you.”

She let out a laugh, moving to lean back against her desk. “Do you know why she and I stopped being friends?” she asked instead of answering his question, and Jax furrowed his brows slightly. 

He never did find out why yours and her friendship ended, though he knew it ended badly and you were upset about it for months after. He’d just assumed the friendship ran its course, and that not everyone would be friends for the rest of their lives. 

Tara must’ve been able to tell that he had no idea what the reason was by the look on his face, and she leaned forward. “Because the whole time she was with you, I wanted you,” she said, her voice level and calm and devastating at the same time. “She never deserved you, and I knew that. That’s why we stopped being friends, because she knew I could give you a better life, and she didn’t want to risk it, I guess. Doesn’t really matter what the reason was now, because in the end, I got you.”

Jax reeled back at that, his face twisting up in disgust as he shook his head. He always thought Tara was a bit too flirty with him in the past, but he never assumed it was because she had a thing for him. He thought that was just her personality, because why would she try to flirt with her best friend’s boyfriend? 

That just makes what he did ten times worse, and that sick feeling from before came back instantly.

“She’s never going to forgive me,” he mumbled, the realization hitting him like a truck. “And you knew exactly what this would do to her if she ever found out.”

Tara pursed her lips as she looked away. “Knowing her, yeah, she probably won’t forgive you,” she said, and he looked over at her with the coldness returning in his eyes. “But it’s okay, baby. You still have me.”

When she reached out to touch him, Jax grabbed her wrist and halted her attempt at assuring him. “Don’t call me that,” he said, voice barely above a whisper but still sounding so deadly. “And you don’t know her. Not anymore. You’re not her, and you never will be. You fuckin’- You and I are done, Tara. I’m not wastin’ another second of my fuckin’ life with you.”

He let go of her, and she had the nerve to look offended as she slumped back against the desk, and he had to turn and leave before he blew up completely. 

But before he could open the door, he turned his head and gave her one final jab. “The only reason I was with you, was because you were the closest thing I had to her,” he said, and Tara let out a gasp and opened her mouth to reply, but Jax pulled open the door and slammed it behind him, effectively ending the conversation. 

Out in the hall, he had to take a few seconds to calm himself down and will his hands to stop shaking with the urge to drive his fist into the first thing that was closest to him, then he was off again. 

He passed by your dad’s room on his way out, and Jax noted that he looked a lot better. Before, he was pale and had circles under his eyes, and he just looked sick, but he seemed to be getting better, which was good, but also kind of fucking bad, because what did that mean for you and Jax? You were here for your dad, after all, and you said that you wouldn’t be here after he got better. 

Jax hoped like hell that he was still able to have that conversation with you, and that he’d be able to convince you to stay with him, or at least to stay in Charming, because he needed you, and he couldn’t lose you again. 

Not even an hour had passed since he went to your parents house, but here he is again, barely turning off his bike before he was walking up the pathway to the front door and knocking on it once again, this time more forceful than before since he was still pretty wound up. 

When you opened the door, you looked a little surprised to see him again, as if you didn’t think he’d actually go do what you told him to do to get answers as to why you’re so upset with him. 

Before you could say anything, he spoke first. “I fucked up,” he said, and you closed your mouth that had parted only seconds before to say something. “I know I fucked up. I know I hurt you, and that’s the last thing I ever wanted to do.”

You seemed to deflate a bit at that, like he’d just given you the confirmation you desperately didn’t want, and Jax wanted nothing more than to go back to a few months ago, shut down Tara’s advances and wait for you to come back to him. He would’ve done this so much differently if he knew you were. 

“We need to talk about this. I need to explain it to you,” he said, and you tensed up at that. “Please. Just… just let me explain it to you.”

A few seconds passed, and Jax was sure you were going to slam the door in his face again, but then you were moving out of the way and opening the door even more. “Never thought I’d see the day where Jax Teller actually begged,” you said, but your voice lacked any humor.

Jax stepped into the house, shutting the door behind him as you moved over to the couch. You leaned against the back of it, crossing your arms over your chest as you looked up at him. He took a step towards you, not wanting to crowd you but desperately wanting to be near you. “I’m so sorry,” he said, shaking his head. “If I’d known you’d… If I thought there was even a chance that you… Fuck, I’m so fuckin’ sorry, doll.”

You quickly looked at the floor, biting down on the inside of your cheek. You didn’t say anything for a couple of seconds before you let out a soft sigh, your own head shaking. “Why her? Why Tara out of all people, Jax?” you asked, your voice wavering with each word as you continued to avoid eye contact with him. “Anyone else, I wouldn’t have… I wouldn’t have cared, I… Why did it have to be her?”

He took another step towards you. “I’m sorry-”

“Why Tara, Jax?” you asked again, raising your voice and making him abruptly stop. 

His shoulders dropped in defeat, but he was not done fighting for you. Not by a long shot. “Because she was the last thing I had from when I had you,” he answered, and you looked up at him with wet eyes. “She was the only thing I had left from when I had you, and she was the one and only person who reminded me of you.” 

You pressed your lips together, bringing one hand up to wipe at your eyes. “I’m not like her, Jax. Tara and I are nothing alike, I-”

“I know,” he said quickly, moving towards you against his better judgement. He cradled your face in his hands, grateful you didn’t push him off or away like he was expecting you to. “I know you’re not. You’re… God, babe, you’re nothin’ like her. You’re not like anyone. No one else has ever even come close to you.”

You looked up at him with a miserable expression on your face, your bottom lip trembling as his thumbs wiped under your eyes. “You were all she ever wanted, Jax,” you whispered, sounding more broken than he’d ever heard you sound, and it tore his fucking heart out to know he was the reason why. “You were the only reason she ever wanted to be my friend. As long as you were around me, so was she. She tried so hard to take you from me.”

“I know,” he repeated, going against his better judgement again and pressing a firm kiss to your forehead, because he wasn’t sure if he’d ever get to do it again. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever get to hold you like this again, and that thought terrified him. “I know. She told me everythin’ and I… I didn’t know that was the reason you stopped hangin’ out with her. You were the only thing that mattered to me back then. You were the only person I ever fucking saw, I- fuck, I’m so sorry.”

You shrugged weakly, “I don’t know what I’m supposed to say. What do you want me to say? I have no right to be pissed at you for… for sleeping with Tara, but I am, Jax,” you said, blinking away more tears. “I hate that you were with her. I hate that after all the shit she tried when we were together, she still got to have you.”

“She never had me,” Jax quickly corrected you, “Yeah, I was with her, but my heart was always with you. She never had all of me, not like you did. Not like you still do.”

He dropped his forehead to yours, one hand cradling the back of your head as he held you close, unwilling to let you go in case you never let him get this close ever again. 

“It was like havin’ a tiny piece of you back, but it wasn’t real. It was just empty,” he murmured, pulling back a bit so he could meet your eyes. “You’re the only girl I’ve ever loved. My one and only. You’re everythin’ to me. I love you.”

Your eyes widened at that, but it wasn’t because you were surprised to hear those words. You had to know by now how fucking out of his mind in love with you he is. You probably just never expected to hear him say them again, like he never expected to say them to any girl ever again, especially to you, because he was convinced you were gone for good. 

A shaky sigh left your lips, and you hesitantly raised your hands and rested them on his chest, as if you were unsure if you could even touch him now, when in reality, every single part of him was yours to touch. 

Your eyes dropped down to his lips for a few seconds, and he watched you have an inner debate with yourself before you leaned up and brushed a soft kiss to his mouth. It was warm and gentle and sweet and just like the one you and he shared at the bar the first night he spent with you when you got back. 

Jax wrapped his arms around you, holding you even closer as he kissed you back, the gentleness of it making him want to drop to his knees and beg you for forgiveness. He wanted to erase the images he knew were playing inside your head, ones of him and Tara. He wanted to make you forget all about it, to erase any doubt from your mind that he was anyone else’s. He was yours, and he always had been. 

You pulled away and he chased your lips for more, not wanting the moment to end so quickly, because it was so easy to lose himself in you and forget about all the bad shit around him. 

“I’m so fuckin’ sorry,” he whispered against your mouth, his hand smoothing down your hair as he pressed another kiss to your lips. He closed his eyes as his forehead pressed against yours, his other hand cradling your jaw. “I never meant to mess things up again. You’re all I’ve ever wanted, baby.”

You let out a soft, barely audible sound at that, your hand reaching up to grab onto his, and you laced your fingers together. You pulled him along with you, taking the same route you and he used to all the time - the one that led to your old bedroom. 

Once you were inside, Jax barely had any time to look around and see if anything in it had changed before you turned around to face him again, your hands reaching for his shoulders as you kissed him once more. 

He kissed you back, his tongue slipping past your lips to brush against your own as his hands reached down and grabbed onto your hips. He pulled you flush against his body, his lips breaking away from yours and instead latching onto your neck. 

Jax knew you and he still needed to talk and that you still needed to figure things out, but he was letting you take full control right now, and as you pressed yourself even closer to him, it was clear that what you wanted right now was this. 

And he’d never deny you what you wanted, and he’d never say no to loving you. There would be time to talk after. 

His hands slid down to grab your thighs as he kissed you again, and he lifted you up, guiding your legs to lock around his waist. He moved over to the bed and sat down on the end of it with you straddling his lap, his lips still pressed firmly against yours. 

When he pulled back, he buried his face in your neck, hands grabbing onto your hips and guiding your body to grind slowly against his. “You’re fuckin’ perfect,” he breathed against your skin, unable to stop himself from sucking a mark onto your skin. “Tell me you’re mine. Tell me I haven’t fucked this up all over again.”

He had no idea if he was overstepping, if he even had a right to say that to you, but he was desperate to know if there was still a chance, and if you were still as much his as he is yours. 

You moaned softly, your eyes fluttering shut as you tangled your fingers in his hair and pulled gently. “I’m yours,” you whispered, moving your hips against his, and your words filled him with hope once again. Your hands moved to the front of his kutte, and you pushed it off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. His shirt followed quickly after, and then your hands were all over his bare chest. 

Jax pulled off your shirt as well, his hand sliding up your back to unhook your bra before they both joined the growing clothes pile next to the bed. He dipped his head down and pressed kisses to the tops of your breasts before he sucked one nipple into his mouth, his hand moving to caress the other one. 

You let out a louder moan, growing more needy as you rocked your hips against his a little faster, then you were pulling away from him. “Take off your jeans,” you breathed as you stood up from his lap, and he quickly kicked off his sneakers. You reached down and guided your sweats and panties down your legs, kicking them off to the side at the same time Jax lifted his hips and tugged his jeans and boxers down as well, leaving you both completely bare. 

“Fuck, look at you,” he muttered, reaching for you and pulling you back onto his lap. Your core pressed against his cock that was already rock hard and aching for you, and you rubbed yourself against him as he leaned in and kissed you deeply. 

You whimpered softly, grabbing onto his shoulders for stability as you lifted yourself up. Your forehead pressed against his as you lowered yourself onto him, his cock stretching you out like it always does at the start of every round. 

A low moan left Jax as you settled on his lap, your arms wrapping tightly around his shoulders as you pressed your chest flush against his. “Fuck,” he grunted, his hands grabbing hold of your waist as he looked up at you through hooded lids.

You slowly rolled your hips against his, your hands scratching gently along his shoulders before they slid up into his hair and pulled again. You leaned down and kissed him, your tongue brushing against his as you moved on his lap, feeling as tight and as warm and as perfect as ever. 

Jax kissed you with just as much need, swallowing each and every one of your sweet sounds you made as you worked yourself on his cock. His hands moved up and down your back, feeling every part of you he already knew off by heart. “So good, baby,” he murmured against your mouth, “I love you so much.”

He placed one hand firmly against your lower back, holding you securely against his body as he shifted on the bed, turning you over so you were laying down and he was hovering over you. He braced his weight on one elbow, his eyes dark as he looked down at you and moved his hips against yours. 

You looked effortlessly beautiful, your eyes hooded and hazy as you stared back up at him, your lips parted and swollen from his, and the look of trust and love he could see written all over your face. He didn’t blame you for not saying those three words back, at least not yet. You told him wordlessly, and that was more than enough for now. 

One of his hands slid under your knee, and he guided your legs higher on his waist. “I’ll make it up to you, doll,” he swore, “I promise. Just don’t leave me again.”

Jax leaned down and kissed you, his hips rocking into yours with deep, slow thrusts that had you moaning against his lips and clawing at his back. Your legs locked tighter around his waist, your head falling back against the pillow as you closed your eyes. “Fuck,” you moaned, heels digging into his lower back. “Jax.”

He increased the pace only slightly, feeling the way you tightened around him and started getting a little louder. “Cum for me,” he mumbled against your skin, pressing kisses all over your neck and shoulder. “C’mon, baby. I’ve got you. I always got you.”

Your hand tugged at his hair as you arched your back, a broken moan leaving your throat as you started to shake under him. Seconds later, he felt your warmth flood around him, sucking him impossibly deeper inside your warm, addictive body. “Fuck,” you gasped again, clinging onto him like he was your lifeline. 

Jax groaned, his hips moving a little faster as he worked you through your high until he felt his own start. He came with a deep grunt, his head falling to your shoulder as he filled you up. “Christ,” he muttered, his hips jerking as he held himself above you on his forearms. 

He kissed your neck and throat, nuzzling against your warm skin as he settled then stilled on top of you. You and he stayed like that for a long time after, holding each other as you regained control over your breathing. 

A little while later, you pried yourself from his arms and stood up, reaching for your panties and shirt, and you pulled them back on while Jax reached for his boxers and slid them up his legs before he leaned back against the pillows. 

The tension from before felt like it was starting to come back, and he didn’t like it, but he wasn’t sure what to say that wouldn’t make it come back even quicker.

He looked around your room, taking this time to see if anything had changed. Your old books were still on the shelf, your desk still had your notebooks on it, and on your dresser were various framed pictures. One of you and your mom, one of you and your dad, and one of you and Jax that was taken just after you graduated high school, with you in your graduation gown, tucked against his side. 

The corners of his mouth turned upwards at that, but he didn’t comment on it, instead he looked back at the one of you and your father, then he looked over at you. “I saw your dad today,” he said, watching you walk over to your suitcase that was tucked away in the corner of your room. “He looks good. Better. That’s good.”

You nodded in agreement, bending down to pull something out of the suitcase, and Jax instantly became distracted by the sight. “Yeah, it is,” you said, then fell silent as you paused. You looked over your shoulder at him, your expression one of sadness and guilt, and he felt his heart stop briefly in his chest. “He’s better, so… so I think I’m going to go back to New York.”

And it was then when he realized that you and he didn’t just have makeup sex, you had goodbye sex, and as he looked down at your suitcase, he realized that you hadn’t pulled something out of it, you’d put something back in it. 

You were packing your bags again because you were leaving him again, and that sight had Jax’s heart breaking for the second time in his life.

-

@purplerainx1 @samcroweater @meet-mr-mayhem @anonymouse1807 @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @tellersgal @galacticinfiltratormachine

[bloatedandalone04]

Just Give Me A Reason | 6

Summary: After spending the perfect night with Jax, you both need to get back to your regular lives while somehow trying to keep your hands off of each other. Back in the hospital, you’re given some rather unexpected news that makes staying away from Jax a whole lot easier. | Series Masterlist

Word Count: 5.4k | I do not give consent to having my work republished or posted to any other platform or profile other than my own.

Warnings: fluff, smut, angst, unprotected sex, hair pulling, swearing, dirty talk, toxic friendships, again angst, this is where shit gets real, so be warned.

Beds are normally for sleeping in, but that was something you and Jax hadn’t been doing much of since you got here yesterday evening. 

Sure, you and he slept through the night, but only after you had sex two more times, fully ensuring that you and he had no energy left for a fourth round. But it was the morning now, and as soon as the sun started to creep in through the curtains, you were up, and so was Jax. 

At least a part of him was. And that part was all too eager to pick up right where you left off earlier this morning when the sun wasn’t up and everyone else in Charming had gone to sleep. 

The sheets were tangled on the bed, you and Jax preferring to find warmth in each other’s bodies rather than the actual comforter. You and he never did redress last night, both of you far too tired and worn out to bother putting anything on before you passed out in each other’s arms. 

With that being said, sleeping naked also made it very easy for you and he to feel one another up until neither of you could take it anymore, and Jax ended up on his back with you on top of him. 

The sun was barely slipping through the curtains, making his bedroom appear somewhat dark as you looked down at him, but you could see him perfectly. His body was deliciously bare, his features still a little plagued with sleep as he stared back up at you, his lips curled in the softest, sexiest grin you’d ever seen in your life. 

You were powerless to stop the way your own lips curved upwards to match it, your brows drawn together in a furrow as you worked yourself up and down on his lap, his cock once again buried to the hilt inside you and making you feel complete in a way you’d never felt with anyone else before. 

Your hands were on his chest, your nails gently scratching along his skin that was already red and a little irritated from the rounds before this one, but he didn’t seem to mind one single bit, and the sight of your marks on him was too pretty to stop. 

His head was back on the pillow, his own hands tightly grabbing your hips as you rolled your body against his. Low, deep groans left his mouth as he watched you, and you could almost see every single emotion in his eyes. Need, desire, adoration, love. 

That last one had you feeling like the only girl in the world, let alone the only girl in Charming. 

“Goddamn, baby,” he grunted, and his eyes flickered downward to watch him disappear inside you over and over. 

You laughed under your breath, loving that you still had the same affect on him now that you did when you were younger. You lifted yourself up just barely before moving back down, this time being a lot slower than the others before it. “I missed this,” you moaned, remembering all the times you and he started your day like this. You used to have morning sex all the time to start your days off right, and this felt exactly like that. Leaning down, you pressed your forehead to his, your lips brushing against his own. “Feels so good.”

He groaned, his fingers digging into the soft skin of your waist as he bucked his hips upwards. One of his hands slid up the length of your back before tangling in your hair, and he pulled you into a deep kiss. “So fuckin’ good,” he muttered harshly against your mouth, his hand sliding from your hip to your ass as he pulled you harder against his body. “Missed you so fuckin’ much, baby.”

You whined against his mouth, your body still stretching around him despite this being the fourth time you’ve had sex in the last ten hours. Your hands moved up to his face, your fingers softly scratching at his stubbled cheeks as you kissed him harder, your movements speeding up. 

“Oh, God,” you moaned against his mouth, rolling your hips faster against his as you lost yourself in everything that was him. “Fuck, Jax.”

He kissed you back just as messily and with as much need as you poured into it, the sound lost to his bedroom as he thrust up against you. “Shit, just like that. Goddamn, you’re fuckin’ perfect,” he grunted, pulling away from your mouth as his head dropped back against the pillows once more. “I’m gonna cum.” he mumbled, sliding one hand between yours and his bodies until he found your clit, and he seemed to remember just how to touch you to make you fall apart. 

Your hands slid up into his hair, and you pulled on it as you tugged at his bottom lip with your teeth, feeling your own release creeping up on you. “Me too,” you whispered, squeezing your eyes shut as a choked moan left your mouth, then you were there. 

It was just as intense as the other four times you’ve reached your high since you got here, and just as intense as it’s always been with him. 

Jax let out a loud grunt as he pulled you flush against his chest, his arm circling around you and making you feel protected as he got there as well. He came hard, filling you up in a way that made you really fucking glad you were on birth control. You were pretty sure he’d have knocked you up by now if you weren’t. 

He held you close, one hand still tangled in your hair as he pressed kisses all over your face; your lips, your cheeks, your nose. A few seconds passed before you felt him relax under you once more, his body going limp against the bed.

Your breaths were uneven and heavy as you stayed on top of him, cuddling against his warm and slightly sticky body. Once you had regained control over your breathing, you propped your chin on his chest and grinned up at him. “I think I’ve had more sex in the last twenty four hours than I have in the last eight years.”

Jax laughed breathlessly, his lips curling in a satisfied smirk. “Could be like this every day, you know,”

You lifted a brow, “One day at a time,”

Jax just smirked at you. “Well, we got a lotta time to make up for,” he said, placing one big hand on your lower back as he turned his head and pressed a kiss to your temple. “Eight years is a hell of a long time to go without that sweet pussy.”

You let out a laugh at his words, dirty as ever even after the deed has been done, but that was just Jax. “You’re telling me,” you smirked, shifting your hips just slightly and making him groan and press his hand harder against your back. “You’ve still got the best dick I’ve ever gotten the pleasure of experiencing. Way better than the guys in New York.”

There was a possibility that your choice of words would bring out his possessive side, and when you felt the deep rumble in his chest against your own and his hand slide down to grab your ass, your smirk grew. You were quite fond of that side of him. 

“No more talkin’ about those fuckin’ losers, alright?” he grunted, dipping his head down to pepper kisses along your shoulder. “They don’t matter anymore.”

You hummed, nodding in agreement as you trailed your fingers along the flower above his pec. “They never mattered,” you corrected, and you felt Jax smirk against your skin. 

“That’s my girl,” he muttered, and you weren’t lost on the fact that he’d called you that more than once now since you and he reconnected. You liked it when he called you that. 

He gently guided your body off his, then stood up from the bed in all his naked glory. Your eyes trailed over his various scars and tattoos, then dipped down to his abs. God, his body was beautiful. He’s beautiful. How did you ever make it without him?

Jax held his hand out to you, and you all too willingly grabbed onto it and let him pull you up as well. His arms band around your waist and pull your body against his, his lips finding yours in a lingering kiss. “You goin’ to the hospital today?” he asked, and you nodded slowly, still feeling the effects of his kiss. “You want a ride there?”

You nodded again, draping your arms around his neck. “Please,” you murmured, “I may or may not have purposely gotten a lift here so you’d have to drive me places.”

Jax shook his head slowly, one hand coming up to cradle your jaw. “Figured as much,” he muttered, smirking down at you. “You’re still real fuckin’ sneaky, doll.”

You shrugged innocently, “You love it,”

He nodded at that, his thumb pulling at your lower lip. “I do,” he agreed, and suddenly your heart was crawling up your throat. But he didn’t say more than that, thankfully. You were sure you were about to burst from all the feelings he was making bubble up inside you. “C’mon. We can shower first.”

And you let him take your hand and pull you along with him to the bathroom, where you and he let your bodies do all the speaking for you, the both of you too scared to say what you were feeling with your words. 

It took you an hour later to arrive at the hospital, you and Jax seemingly unable to tear yourselves apart until he got a call from Bobby with some club business he couldn’t ignore, and you really wanted to check in on your dad since the last time you saw him he was looking a little better. 

Jax walked you all the way to your dad’s room, and out in the hall, he cradled your face in his hands and kissed you so sweetly, you were left wanting more. After he pressed one final kiss to your forehead, he pulled away and went back the way you both came, and you were so fucking happy, you couldn’t hide the smile on your face if you tried. 

That was when you saw Tara at the same vending machine you’d run into her in front of before, clad in her scrubs, and your smile faded a bit, but it was still very much on your face as she took a few steps towards you. “Looks like you and Teller are getting close again,” she observed, and your smile faded even more as you shrugged your shoulders, unsure of why she always needed to stick her nose in other people’s business. “Almost seems like nothing’s changed.” 

You looked away for a few seconds, your shoulder lifting in another shrug. “Yeah, I guess so,”

Tara took another step towards you, her arms coming up to cross over her chest. “But things have changed,”

You weren’t sure where she was trying to go with this, but you’re in a good mood, and you weren’t about to let her dampen it, so you let out a sigh and shifted on your feet, ready to put an end to the conversation already. “Yeah, I mean, obviously things have changed since I moved-”

“No I meant between him and I,” she cut you off, and it was pretty damn effective. 

Your head tilted a bit as you crossed your own arms, your way of almost shielding yourself, because your heart was suddenly beating a little faster, and you didn’t like the feeling that was crawling up the back of your throat. “What are you talking about, Tara?”

You watched as her lips curved upwards in a faint smirk, her fingers flexing against her biceps. “Jax and I were together,” she says, narrowing her eyes at you. “Like, we were seeing each other before you came back.”

Your whole body tensed up at that, and your jaw clenched. There was no way she was telling the truth. No fucking way. She was lying and just trying to fuck with you, like she had been adamant on doing throughout the entire last year you and her were friends, as well as for long as you both were in Charming until she moved to Chicago a few years before you moved to New York. 

“Yeah,” you let out a short laugh and nodded your head, “Okay.” 

“No, I’m serious,” she said, her voice lacking the usual high pitch it has whenever she’s lying. You really hoped she was able to get control over that, because you were beginning to have a horrible feeling weighing down on you, and you didn’t want to even acknowledge the fact that she might be telling the truth, let alone believe it. “Things were getting serious before you got involved again.”

“I didn’t get involved-”

“Yeah, you did. You came back and now he’s all over you again,” she said, coming up to you so she was almost in your face. 

How Jax being all over you was your fault, you’ll never know, but it wasn’t like you forced him to. You both were clearly still very much interested in each other, not that that was anyone else’s business but yours and his. 

“But when you leave again, and you’re going to leave again, because after all, this isn’t your home anymore, he’ll come back to me. It’s all he knows now,” she shrugged as if that was a fact and not just something she strongly believed. “And I know him better than you do now.”

That had your brows raising, and you let out a scoff as you took a step away from her, not necessarily backing down but not wanting to get thrown out of the hospital for decking one of the doctors either. 

She was just trying to get a reaction out of you. She had this whole thing planned out from the first day you saw her and she asked you about Jax. 

You felt sick now as your face heated up, because the thought of him with anyone was a hard thing to imagine, but to imagine him with Tara of all people was even worse. 

Did Jax really do that? Mess around with Tara? Even though he knew you and her were once extremely close? It was almost too much to think about. 

“I don’t know why you’re telling me this now. Jax and I weren’t together when you and he apparently were,” even just saying that made you feel sick, and you had to take a second to swallow before you continued, “I have no say in what he does or who he sees.”

Tara let out a humorless laugh, one full of pity, and it made you wince. “Aw, you’re putting on a brave face. That’s sweet. You can have him for now, and you two can continue playing house or whatever it is you’re doing,” she said, and you hated the fact that she was talking about him like that. Like he was just someone to be passed around when he’s your everything, and he always has been. “But he’ll come back to me soon enough. And when you’re back in New York and missing him, just know he’ll be very happy here with me. He won’t even have time to miss you back.”

Your face felt like it was on fire, and your eyes were stinging despite you willing yourself to not cry in front of her. She did not deserve to see firsthand how deeply her words were cutting you right now, and you refused to fuel her anymore than you already have. “You’re quite confident about that. Or is it just wishful thinking?” you asked, forcing your voice to not shake as you stood a little straighter. 

But Tara just pursed her lips, giving you another sly smirk. “We were going to make it official before you came back,” 

That hit you harder than you wanted to admit, and you swallowed once again as you nodded. “Well, don’t let me get in the way of true love,” you placed your hand over your heart, feeling the fast, harsh beating against your palm that you could also feel in your ears. “I’m sure you two will make it in the end.”

Her smirk only grew. “That’s the plan,” 

You shook your head and turned away, pushing open the door to your dad’s room and stepping inside. When you saw him lying in the bed, his hand holding tightly onto your mom’s, you felt your eyes sting even more, and of course your mom clocked it. 

“You alright, honey?” she asked as she stood up from the chair beside the bed and started walking towards you. 

Nodding your head quickly, you forced out a smile that was so unlike the one you had with Jax out in the hall not even five minutes ago, and when she wrapped her arms around you in a hug, you practically melted against her. “I’m fine,” you said, squeezing her a little tighter than you normally do as you met your dad’s eyes from over her shoulder, and the hint of concern in his gaze made you feel even worse, because this was about him. 

You were here for him. You came back for him. You didn’t come back for Jax, and you didn’t come back to reignite the flame with your ex. You didn’t come back to have your heart broken all over again over something so preventable. 

Family. That’s what you were here for. And you needed to keep reminding yourself of that, because you let yourself get too attached again, and you let yourself get wrapped up in the life of Jax Teller all over again, when things with him always had an expiration date, and that date was closer than you thought it was. 

You had no right to be upset that he’d slept with other girls since you, and you didn’t even have a right to be upset that he’d found comfort in the arms of Tara. If she’d become his outlet, his person he turned to in his time of need, then that was fine. He was well within his rights to do that, and she was allowed to rub it in your face, because he’s a great guy, and he’s a great boyfriend. You knew that. 

But you are upset, because once upon a time she’d been your bestest and closest friend, and there was once a time where you’d do anything for her. But she’d always had it out for you, and she’d always had her eye on Jax. She saw the opportunity to have him as soon as you were out of the picture, and you could almost appreciate her dedication. But that didn’t mean it didn’t fucking hurt to know that she and Jax had been together like that, when you knew that was all she’d ever wanted, her friendship with you be damned. And apparently they were going to be official before you came back.

He was a big reason yours and her friendship ended, for fucks sake, but he didn’t know that. But Tara did. And she knew it would hurt you to have him like that, and it would benefit her in more ways than one. The thought of him touching her, kissing her, fucking her made your skin crawl, and you weren’t sure how you were supposed to face him after finding out he’d done all those things to her. 

She got what she wanted, and in the end, you’d lost him once again, and it seemed like both times it was all your fault.

But you weren’t going to let yourself spiral in the way you did when things ended the first time. You were a wreck for years, never having fully healed from the wound he’d left in your heart, and you refused to go back down that road. 

One day at a time. See where things go. 

Well, things went, and you hated where you and he ended up. But you weren’t going to let yourself fall back into the rut you’d been in for the majority of your time away from him and away from Charming. 

You and he hadn’t completely fallen back into your routine, though you came really fucking close. This time you weren’t all the way in, and this time it wouldn’t hurt as much. 

At least that’s what you kept telling yourself. 

-

It had been just over six hours since Jax dropped you off at the hospital, and he could still smell you on his clothes, and he could still feel you against his lips and body. 

Of course you left a lasting impact on him whenever you and he parted ways, and it felt like he’d been carrying you around with him all day as he handled the club shit and the business shit with Nero. 

Things had settled down a bit with the club, and Jax was left not wanting to go home without having you there with him. You’d only stayed over for one night, and it already felt like you’d been doing it since he bought the house. He wanted to spend all his nights there with you, because it already felt like you belonged there with him. 

That was a scary territory to be in right now, but he couldn’t help himself. He wants you, and not a single day has gone by in which he didn’t. You’d always been the girl for him. 

Instead of going home by himself, he called you to ask if you would spend the night again, because he was little too eager to pick up where you and he left off this morning at the hospital, and he wanted to do everything you and he did last night all over again; dinner, dessert and then hours of slow, unrushed sex before ending the day with you in his arms. 

But you didn’t answer his call, and when he checked his messages with you, he saw that you didn’t reply to his earlier texts either. When he tried to call you again, it went straight to voicemail, and he was left listening to your sweet voice asking him to leave you a message. 

It felt weird to just show up at the hospital because he couldn’t get a hold of you or hadn’t heard from you in a couple of hours. You were probably just busy with your family, but then again, Jax recalls hearing both your mom and dad refer to him as family, so would it really be a big deal if he were to swing by?

Fuck it. 

It was close to seven when he entered the hospital, too late to make an actual dinner at home, but the perfect time for a quick take-out pick up on the way home, if you were willing to spend the night at his house again. He really hoped you were. 

The route to your dad’s room was already becoming a familiar one, and when he turned and poked his head into the room, he watched your mom perk up from her place in the chair next to yours. 

“Jax,” she greeted him, standing up and beckoning him over with a wave of her hand. As he entered the room, his eyes instinctively darted over to you, and he could see the way you almost seemed to have tensed up when you saw him. 

It was almost like you didn’t want him here, or maybe he was just reading into it too much. He’d always been able to read you extremely well, but maybe he was wrong in thinking that the look in your eyes was one of disappointment at seeing him instead of excitement. 

“Oh, it’s so good to see you,” your mom said as she pulled him into a hug, and Jax hugged her back as he kept his eyes fixated on you. “I’ve heard that you two might have rekindled some old flames.” she said, and both you and Jax looked over at your dad, who just quickly looked away and became very interested in a spot on the ceiling. 

“Dad,” you groaned, and it had the corners of Jax’s mouth turning upwards as he pulled away from your mom. Your dad just gave you a shrug as you shook your head. “That’s not what’s happening.”

“Hey, I didn’t agree to that,” Jax said as he moved over to you and stood behind your chair. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his hand coming up to rest on your shoulder, and he could feel the way you tensed up again, and he furrowed his brows as he pulled back and looked down at you. “I tried callin’ you earlier. Everythin’ okay?”

You nodded quickly, giving him a tight lipped smile. “I must’ve not heard my phone. Sorry,” you said, and Jax instantly noted the distant look in your eyes, and the way you only looked at him for maybe three seconds before breaking eye contact and looking away. 

A brief silence passed before your mom spoke up again. “Well, I was just heading out to go grab some food from the cafeteria,” she said and gestured for Jax to sit in the chair she was in a few seconds ago. “Can I bring you back anything?”

Jax shook his head, fighting off a grin as he moved to sit down next to you, propping his elbow up on the armrest. “I’m good,” he said, rubbing his index finger along his chin as he looked over at your dad. “The food here ain’t exactly my favorite.”

Your dad made a face of disgust as he nodded in agreement. “Oh, I know. It’s disgusting, but supposedly healthy, so I’ll take it,” your mom said, reaching for her purse. “Maybe it’ll help me knock off a few pounds.”

“Not needed,” Jax said, giving her a wink that had her waving him off as she left the room, then his eyes darted back to your father who looked at him with accusing eyes. 

“Are you trying to flirt with my lady, Jackson?” he asked, but there was humor laced in his voice. 

“No, sir,” Jax said, lifting his hands in a defensive gesture. “The only girl I’m interested in flirtin’ with is your daughter.” 

Your dad nodded at that, muttering ‘Good save’, but you didn’t laugh like Jax expected you to. You didn’t blush, didn’t groan, and now that he’s looking at you, he saw that you didn’t even move once he’d sat down next to you. 

He’d already gotten used to you touching him in some sort of way whenever he was near you, but you kept your hands to yourself, and he wanted to assume it was because your dad was right next to you, but he’s seen you and Jax do much worse than a little hand holding in a hospital room. 

Only when he stared at your side profile for a little longer did you lift your head, and you looked over at him with an unreadable expression on your face. “What are you doing here?” you asked, voice lacking its usual warmth and kindness. 

Jax shifted a bit, draping his arm around the back of your chair. “Just came to say hi,” he shot your dad a grin before he leaned in closer to you, dropping his volume slightly. “And to see if you were spendin’ the night again tonight.”

You moved back, looking away from him again. “I can’t. I need to be here for my dad,” you said, no offer of spending a different night with him following afterwards, and Jax furrowed his brows. 

“Oh, I’m fine, sweetheart,” your dad said, giving you both a smile as he gestured to the door. “Your mom is here, I’m all good.”

Jax looked over at you again as you avoided eye contact with him and instead stared down your father. “Yeah, well, she’s always here. I’m not,” you said, then looked down at your lap where your hands rested. “And I won’t be when you get better, so I should be here with you now.”

That had Jax’s heart stopping for a second, then clenching painfully in his chest, because he was not prepared to hear that at all. He wasn’t prepared to go back to living his life without you, and he wasn’t prepared to let you go all over again. 

He knew you had a life in New York, but he also knew you weren’t happy at all there, and the people you knew there sucked. He knew you and he still had a lot to talk about, and he was planning on giving a few convincing reasons and points as to why you should move back to Charming, but you were talking as if you were already set on going back without ever having that conversation with him. 

It made him tense up as he shifted in the chair even more, and he leaned over towards you. “Can we talk?” he asked, mentally preparing himself to have that conversation with you now instead of later, because he was not about to go back to living his life without you in it. He was not ready to lose you all over again.

But you just pulled away again. “Can it wait? I want to be here with my dad, Jax,”

A heavy feeling formed in his chest, and he knew then that something had happened in the hours you and he were away from each other today, but he didn’t know what. It was like something had flipped inside of you, and suddenly all you wanted was to be away from him now instead of being near him. 

He didn’t like that. At all. 

But he respected you way too fucking much to make you do anything you didn’t want to, and the last thing he wanted to do was pressure you and risk regressing the progress you and he had made so far even more than it felt like it already had. 

“Sure,” he said, moving to stand up. When you lifted your head and looked up at him, he leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek, trying to ignore the way his heart was screaming at him, and the fact that alarms were going off in his head. “I’ll call you later?” 

You just nodded, leaning back in the chair, looking to be relieved that he was leaving. What the fuck happened? “Okay,”

Jax stood up straight and shared a look with your dad, who gave him a smile that was half pity and half confusion, like he also sensed the switch in you, and also didn’t know what caused it. 

“I’ll see you later,” he said, moving around the bed as your father nodded. 

“See you later, son. Thanks for stopping by,” he said, and Jax gave you one final look before heading towards the door and stepping out into the hallway, where he leaned against the wall and ran his hands down his face. 

Seriously, what the fuck happened? You and he were fine a couple hours ago. You and he were fucking perfect a couple hours ago, what the hell could’ve happened in such a short period of time to make you act like that?

You were so closed off and distant and so unlike the sweet girl he’d dropped off earlier, it was like you and he didn’t spend one of the best nights he’d ever had  together last night. 

It didn’t make sense, and Jax felt his nerves starting to get the better of him, because something is definitely wrong, and he had no idea what it was. 

When he dropped his arms back down to his sides and pushed off of the wall, he felt someone’s eyes on him, and when he turned his head, he saw Tara looking at him from down the hall, and just before she walked into a room, he caught the faintest outline of a smirk on her lips, and he knew he had every reason to be feeling the way he currently is - if that look she gave him was anything to go by.

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