Jax-Pocalypse 2025 Masterlist
A Walking Dead/SOA style mini-series
When the dead don't stay dead, it's a good thing the Sons have guns.
Pairing: Jax Teller x fem!nurse!Reader
Series warnings/tags: 18+; Horror/gore/violence, zombie outbreak, death, hurt/comfort, smut
《Jax-Pocalypse Playlist》
Installment List 《dates/titles are tentative & possibly more to come》
*Each installment has their own warnings/tags*
☣ Outbreak
☣ A Safe Haven
☣ No Other Choice
☣ Still Awake
☣ The New Normal
☣ Pretending It's Fine
☣ Bite the Bullet
☣ Beneath the Stars
☣ Confiding Truths
☣ Protect Our Own
☣ Separated
☣ A Reason to Fight
☣ Hard Choices
☣ Looking Forward
Pairing: Jax Teller x fem!nurse!Reader Word Count: 2.7k [Series Masterlist] [Jax Fic Masterlist]
Warnings/tags: 18+; angst, drama, bitchy Ima, mentions of sex
Summary: It's been just over a week since the outbreak started, and your life looks entirely different.
a/n: I very much appreciate all of y'all who're leaving love on this series! It grew into way more than initially planned (it's almost 18k and we're not even halfway), so the likes--and comments and reblogs especially--have been incredibly wonderful and motivating as I try to finish writing the final parts to get this story hopefully finished in October. So thank you, and obviously--feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!
Chopping carrots on your cutting board, you stood behind the bar trying to lose yourself in the familiar domesticity of the simple task. Fortunately by now, your hands had mostly healed from the cuts you'd sustained in front of the Save Mart when looters had pushed you through that broken window. The bandages were no longer necessary, and using your hands had become significantly less painful.
You worked quietly beside Gemma and Lyla–another former CaraCara porn star staying with the Sons with her young boy, Piper. Since it had more space and natural light, the three of you had abandoned the dark and windowless kitchen to prepare vegetables for tonight’s dinner in the main room of the clubhouse. Ever since the power had finally failed just over a week ago, the most important perishable items had been stored in the small fridge in Unser’s trailer that he’d parked in the lot at the start of everything. But his generator had begun running out of fuel, and the Sons had deemed keeping it running not the most efficient use of resources. Needing to use up the food before it spoiled, Gemma had decided that chicken noodle soup was on the menu for dinner.
While the three of you chopped vegetables along the bartop, the rest of the clubhouse buzzed with chatter. Families and friends of the club were scattered about, some sitting at the tables and others on the couches as everyone attempted to find ways to keep their spirits up while they were stuck inside. A few of the kids were sitting around a board game on the floor, the sound of their laughter occasionally breaking through the multiple conversations.
The handful of Sons that had stayed behind from today’s run to siphon more gasoline from a nearby gas station stood over by the doors of what you'd long since learned was called the chapel–a place strictly for the Sons of Anarchy when they met to discuss important club business before the outbreak. Now, they used it to discuss supply runs, protection over the clubhouse, and whatever they were doing with those satellite radios you'd noticed they had.
Having been here just over a week with everyone, you'd begun to lean into what felt like the new normal. You woke up in the mornings beside Jax in his bed, both of you disentangling naked limb from naked limb. Because now whenever he returned from his shifts on the rooftop, it'd become routine that you both lost yourselves in wild, frenzied sex–especially after you'd explained that you had an IUD and condoms weren't entirely necessary.
You'd both been seeking comfort and release with each other from the horrible reality outside of the clubhouse’s thick walls for just over a week now. You hadn't expected just how much you'd start to look forward to those nights together, just like you hadn't expected how much you'd enjoy Jax's roughness with you. Beneath the clothes you currently wore, your body still boasted the faint marks from his hands and his teeth from just last night, almost like he'd branded you as his.
But you weren't his.
Nothing more had happened between you both besides the sex, not that you were necessarily expecting a relationship to come of it all. You knew the type of man Jax was before all of this had started, and you’d told yourself in the very beginning that the sex served a singular purpose–to help you forget what was going on for whatever brief period of time you could. It was just two people distracting each other, two people catching their breath from reality.
You weren't trying to make it anything more.
In the mornings, Jax usually woke up and went his separate way for the day, joining morning church with the other Sons and delegating tasks before handling things like clubhouse protection or supply runs, and you generally helped out with whatever task you were able to–preparing food, cleaning up after meals, or patching up minor injuries on a Son whenever they came back from one of their runs. You always managed to keep yourself busy during the day doing something, gradually getting to know everyone staying here before you always found your way back to Jax at night in his bed.
Sometimes you'd get a few conversations with him throughout the day, or an occasional meeting of eyes from across a room, but that was it. Though Ima hadn't stopped trying to push her way into things, always attempting to wedge herself between you and Jax. She hadn’t given up her usual schemes to get him to cast you off so that she could take your place in his bed, and she'd taken to finding moments to corner you throughout the clubhouse just to give you shit whenever no one else was around. It'd started getting under your skin the more nights you spent with Jax in his bed, fucking each other in a desperate search for something more.
But with how Jax buried himself inside of you every night, releasing every ounce of his pent up frustration, fear, and fire, you knew he wasn’t touching anyone else in here–including Ima. Except that still didn't make him yours, a confusing line of thought that kept randomly popping into your head without warning over the past couple of days, one that was beginning to complicate the situation you'd found yourself in with him.
Because it was supposed to be just about the sex.
A frustrated huff came from farther along the bar, the sound catching Gemma and your attention. Lyla had paused chopping potatoes, glancing across the room towards the Sons congregating by the chapel doors. Both Gemma and you followed her gaze, spotting Ima making her way through the clubhouse and straight towards Jax with an exaggerated sway of her hips and a flirtatious smile on her painted lips.
Gemma looked back over her shoulder at Lyla beside her, one brow arching onto her forehead as she paused her dicing of onions. “Thought you two were friends,” she commented dryly.
“I don't know if I'd call it that,” Lyla muttered, a frown crossing her lips as she continued watching Ima. “I just think she should be more grateful that she's staying here. Offer to help out with something, at least.”
Gemma hummed in response, her eyes drifting back over to the former porn star who’d still managed to throw on a full face of makeup despite the state of the world. “Don't disagree with you on that,” she said bitterly. “Sucking cock isn't exactly a useful survival skill.”
A surprised laugh fell out of you before you bit your bottom lip, struggling to shove your amusement back down at Gemma’s blunt comment and utter disdain for Ima. But the laugh had caught both of their attention as they fixed you with their stares. You raised a hand, waving it dismissively in the air as you tried to stop grinning, pleased that you weren’t the only one who’d grown increasingly irritated with Ima and her misplaced priorities.
“Sorry,” you said, still struggling to push the smile off your lips. “Just didn’t expect that.”
Gemma slowly lowered the knife in her hand down to the cutting board, her eyes narrowing marginally at you as her lips thinned into a straight line. You couldn’t help but notice how strangely dry her eyes were for dicing as many onions as she had been, but you figured if there was someone immune to the chemical compound in the vegetable, it’d be her.
“Not a fan of her either, sweetheart?” she questioned.
Clearing your throat, your grin instantly slipped off your face before you shrugged a shoulder. Focusing back down on the carrots in front of you, you couldn't help but notice that this felt like the beginning of an interrogation and less like a simple question.
“I just think Lyla has a point,” you answered, intentionally avoiding her penetrating stare. “There’s a lot of things that need to get done around here, and some extra help would be nice.”
“As opposed to spending her time pushin’ up on my son who you’ve been busy fucking?” she countered.
Your knife came down a bit harder than necessary on the cutting board at the question, your lips pressing firmly together. Was there absolutely no topic off limits to discuss with Gemma Teller?
“Because I’m not stupid, you know,” she continued, picking up her knife and casually resuming dicing the onions. “You’re both sharing his room. He’s not accepting that little whore’s advances like the rest of the guys, meaning he’s getting his needs met somewhere else.” The sound of her knife punctuated her brief pause before she continued. “I know my son, and the end of the world does not mean the end of his sex life.”
Looking up from beneath your lashes, your gaze landed on Jax standing beside the chapel doors. Jealousy and annoyance burned hot in your veins as you saw the way Ima’s arm was casually draped over his shoulder, her fingers dancing along the bare skin of his arm beneath the sleeve of his shirt.
The jealousy you’d been feeling steadily growing whenever you saw the two of them together had begun surprising even yourself. When had Jax become something other than just solace at the end of another day in all this mess? Or were you just afraid that you might lose that little bit of good in your day if Jax eventually grew bored of you and accepted her advances?
A low, contemplative hum came from Gemma before she leaned over towards you. “Word of advice, sweetheart?” she began, her words sounding more like a warning. “Don’t get too attached to him. The last thing my son is looking for in all this shit right now is a girlfriend. I can promise you that.”
Gemma straightened up, her eyes lingering on you for a second longer before she returned her attention back to dicing the onion on her cutting board. With your gaze still on Jax across the room, you heard his mother's words on repeat in your mind. Because you knew she was right, and you weren’t exactly interested in complicating life further than it had already become with this viral outbreak, either. But as you saw Ima lean up and whisper something in Jax’s ear, her painted pink lips practically brushing the shell of it as she spoke, your hand involuntarily gripped the knife tighter as jealousy burned sharp and acidic inside of you.
From across the room, Jax’s eyes drifted through the crowd around him and unexpectedly met yours. Briefly, you held his stare as Ima remained draped over his shoulder, his expression giving absolutely nothing away about how he felt–about her advances or you witnessing them. Pressing your lips firmly together, you tore your eyes from his and focused back down on the partially cut carrot in front of you. With your jaw clenched tight, you internally repeated the words that had become a mantra over the past few days.
It doesn’t matter. It's just sex. It doesn't matter.
But you’d be lying if you said that you weren’t grateful when Tig, Opie, Half-Sack, and Chuckie came through the clubhouse doors a few minutes later, their entrance causing Jax to finally brush Ima off as the Sons all loudly greeted each other. And when Chuckie overturned a backpack onto one of the tables, packs and cartons of cigarettes spilling out onto the surface and dropping down to the floor, you couldn’t resist the the way your lips twisted into a smile at the sight of the men’s ecstatic praises for Chuckie thinking to raid the gas station for more smokes for them. Especially when you caught the bright smile that spread over Jax’s face as he roughly clapped the man on the shoulder, his eyes alight with a joy you hadn't seen since all of this started.
But the following jolt in your stomach at the sight told you things you didn't want to know about how you'd begun to feel.
Making your way through the hallway towards Jax’s room, the beam of your flashlight lit the windowless, narrow space as you went. Everyone was winding down for the night, and with Jax taking first watch on the roof, it meant that you'd be alone in his room for a bit until he returned.
But as you neared the end of the hall, the beam from your flashlight unexpectedly lit up the figure of the one person you absolutely didn't have the energy or patience to deal with tonight. Your jaw tensed at the sight of Ima casually leaning against the wall beside Jax’s bedroom door, one finger twirling a strand of her blonde hair. Your stomach instantly dropped, falling to the floor at your feet as your steps began to slow.
Had she been waiting here for Jax? Had he asked her to? Or was this just another attempt to intimidate you again?
A smile spread over her pink lips when she saw you–bitter and cold. The corner of your own mouth drew back in distaste, watching as she pushed off the wall and turned towards you with her chin raised like you were beneath her.
“What do you want, Ima?” you asked, not in the mood for her.
“You already know the answer to that,” she replied, still smiling. “I just came to remind you not to get too comfortable in his room. Because you’re not staying there for long.”
Her eyes traveled up and down the length of you slowly, scanning you over and sizing you up all at once. Something about the way she was doing it stung, making you feel self-conscious and exposed in a way you hadn’t in a long time. Especially with that cruel twist to her lips when her eyes met yours again.
“I know him far better than you. And I know he doesn't get attached,” she stated plainly, taking a step towards you. “All he cares about is who makes him feel good. And sweetie, it's not going to be long before you're too boring to keep his attention. Just look at you.”
She waved a hand at you, that smile on her face beginning to make your own hand tighten around the flashlight. For a brief moment, you imagined how good it would feel to hit her with it, but you knew you couldn’t do that. You would only end up receiving backlash, and you were sure Ima would spin it in some way to make you look entirely at fault. Even if she deserved it.
Plus there was the obvious fact that Jax wasn't yours. For all you knew, maybe he wanted her, too. He wasn't exactly a monogamous man.
“I know how to please him in ways you couldn't possibly imagine,” she teased, sauntering past you in the hallway like you didn't matter. “Don't forget that it's my poster hanging in his room, sweetie. I think we both know who he really prefers.”
As she continued down the hallway back to the main room of the clubhouse where she'd been staying with the majority of everyone else, you felt a surge of white hot anger ignite inside of you. You knew exactly which poster she was talking about–you'd woken up to her stupid face plastered on the back of Jax’s door every single morning over this past week. You'd done your best to ignore it, knowing it didn't really mean anything. You'd even tried to find comfort in the fact that it was you sharing his bed and not her.
But as you opened the door and stepped into his room, you closed it after yourself with gritted teeth. Ima's face stared back at you from the poster, taunting you still even when she wasn’t here. Before you could even think it through, your hand flew forward and tore the poster from the back of his door, crumpling it into a tight ball in your fist.
You knew you shouldn't have torn it down–knew you had no right and no idea what you'd tell Jax if he asked you what happened to the stupid thing. But as you crossed the dark bedroom with the flashlight in your hand, you shoved the ruined poster into the trash can beside his nightstand hard, finding that you didn't really give a single shit about his reaction.
Pairing: Jax Teller x fem!nurse!Reader Word Count: 3.8k [Series Masterlist] [Jax Fic Masterlist]
Warnings/tags: 18+; angst, gore, horror, zombies
Summary: A viral outbreak consumes Charming and the rest of the world with chaos.
a/n: Jax-Pocalypse finally begins! A little reminder - each installment will have its own warnings, so please read them! Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!
With all of the strangeness that’d been playing over various news stations on the televisions throughout your patients’ rooms in St. Thomas Hospital this afternoon, the sheer chaos at Charming’s largest grocery store–the local Save Mart–really should not have surprised you.
Over the past week, there had been odd reports increasing in frequency about a new virus cropping up around the country and even overseas. Obviously, rumors about it had spread throughout the hospital this past week like wildfire. The halls of St. Thomas had been filled with whispers about the suspected airborne virus causing fevers with dangerously high temperatures that made the infected individual delirious before eventually killing them. The hospital's administration had been trying to write it off, attempting to reduce fear among the staff who'd become nervous about a rumored pandemic, but even they'd seemed on edge.
But while the news had increased its reporting on the mysterious new virus, there'd also been an increase in other concurrent news reports about incidents of inexplicable violence on the rise throughout the world, and that had led to gossip circulating online. The world had begun speculating that the viral outbreak was connected to all of these absurd, extreme cases of violence that the public believed it was only receiving half-truths about. Panic had begun to steadily increase everywhere as people on the internet began creating their own theories as to what was actually happening.
Which is why it was almost impossible to even pull your car into the parking lot when you'd arrived at the grocery store today. It was sheer insanity with how some people had haphazardly abandoned their vehicles in the middle of it, completely forgoing parking in a spot altogether. It took some careful maneuvering and a death grip on the steering wheel before you'd managed to squeeze your Toyota through the mess of it all. Eventually, you parked between two cars that had barely given you enough space to open your door just to get out.
But when you’d begun making your way through the parking lot–really looking at what was going on around you–you couldn’t believe how many people were here, shocked that it felt like most of the town's population had shown up trying to stockpile supplies this afternoon. With your heart pounding vigorously in your ears over the sounds of shouting and fighting filling the air, you'd begun regretting your decision to come here at all. But with what you'd heard the other nurses saying at the hospital, you figured you should pick up a few things before all the shelves were left bare in town.
Hesitantly approaching the entrance of the grocery store, you grimaced at the actual madness before you. People struggled to push their way against each other just to get inside the building, and those who were trying to leave had no issue shoving their full shopping carts right into anyone who stood in their way. Near a blue sedan not that far from you, five people were tugging on a package filled with bottled waters, the plastic covering them straining in the middle of the fight as a few bottles threatened to fall from the package.
Sharp curses and violent threats echoed around the lot as the usually polite and friendly citizens of Charming became frenzied and panicked, attacking each other over food and water. The tension surrounding you had quickly set you on edge.
This wasn't normal.
As you continued carefully walking through the lot, you noticed that the only people being given a wide berth and left entirely alone were the Sons and their dark gray van. Two men were unloading stacks of things from shopping carts into the back of it, both of them moving at a steady pace. The other Son leaning against the side of the vehicle with his arms crossed over his chest surveyed the ensuing chaos around him with watchful eyes and a hardened expression.
You knew who that particular Son was–everyone did. Jax Teller, the vice president of the charter, step-son to Clay Morrow who ran the whole Sons of Anarchy MC in the little town of Charming.
Passing by him, you caught the way his eyes immediately shifted in your direction, tracking your movements towards the store's entrance, his attention probably drawn to the blue scrubs you still wore. His stare made the hair on the back of your neck raise as your nerves increased. Considering the news everywhere about that strange viral outbreak potentially causing people to become unexplainably violent, you had no doubt in your mind that the Sons were on edge, especially if they were here stockpiling supplies themselves. Everyone knew that they all carried guns, but now their trigger fingers were probably itchier than usual.
Turning your eyes straight ahead of yourself, not wanting to further draw their attention to you, you continued hesitantly making your way to the entrance of the grocery store where a mass of people were still struggling to make their way in and out of the doors. Attempting to avoid being trampled, you cautiously attempted to squeeze your way through the sea of everyone, aware that trying to get inside the store was probably not worth the effort in the end. But with every inch of progress forward through the crowd, your feet had been crushed, elbows sharply pushed into your ribs or your back, and you’d gotten a few sharp knocks against your head with a fist or a purse.
Before you knew what was even happening, a heavy push of bodies behind you roughly shoved you forward into the people ahead of you, the force so violent that a group of you stumbled straight into each other and right into the grocery store. With your feet slipping out beneath yourself and your hands flying forward, you just barely managed to grab onto a nearby shopping cart to keep yourself from falling down while more people shoved their way straight past you.
Keeping your hold on the cart, you gradually righted yourself just before someone roughly slammed into your back as they ran past you. A soft, pained noise fell past your lips before your eyes followed after them, but the state of the store immediately stole your attention. Eyes widening at the sight before you, you saw empty shelves and fixtures overthrown as items apparently deemed unimportant were strewn about the floor. Bags and boxes of things that weren't edible had their contents spilled all along the off-white tile, most of the items broken and smashed from being ran over by feet and shopping carts.
You didn’t understand what was going on with everyone. Why were they acting like this? What could possibly have terrified them this much about a virus to have them looting the Save Mart?
As he leaned against the side of the van with his arms crossed, Jax spotted a fist fight beginning to break out across the lot from where he stood. While Juice and Half-Sack loaded the supplies that Gemma had demanded they ran out and picked up into the van beside him, Jax’s brows furrowed in bewilderment at the sight in front of him. He watched as two men came to literal blows over a cart full of what looked like cereal and peanut butter.
When Gemma and Unser disappeared to chat with Clay earlier this morning, they reappeared half an hour later assigning everyone odd tasks to accomplish today. Jax hadn't understood their reasoning, but he’d listened when Clay claimed it was important that they rounded everyone up and went straight into lockdown. That didn’t stop Jax from thinking everything that Clay and Gemma had tasked the Sons with sounded like complete overkill for a normal lockdown–especially because the Sons weren't even under threat of attack from anyone.
But standing here seeing everyone fighting over water, food, and toilet paper had him beginning to wonder if his mother’s fear about some stupid virus was beginning to hold some weight. Even if it was solely for the fact that the people in Charming were acting like absolute animals right now.
“We gotta hurry this shit along,” Jax said, attention returning to Juice and Half-Sack at the back of the van. Police sirens screeched out over the chaos in the parking lot, the sound setting Jax further on edge as he wondered what the hell that was about, because it clearly wasn't for all the looting. “Shit is gettin’ outta hand here,” he warned. “We need to get back to the clubhouse.”
Standing there still surveying the lot, Jax couldn’t believe what he was seeing. How the fuck did the people of Charming think the Sons were so terrible when they were literally beating each other over Cheerios?
“This isn't right,” Juice said as he finished unloading a cart. “Gemma said people are goin’ crazy over some virus, yeah?”
“Not just a virus, man,” Half-Sack replied, moving even quicker to unload his cart with Juice’s help now. “The shit people are sayin’ online? The videos they're posting? It’s crazy.”
Jax watched Juice and Half-Sack, one of his blonde brows arching onto his forehead in disbelief. “Crazy? Crazy how?”
Half-Sack set a package of water bottles down onto the floor of the van before looking over at Jax. He was breathing a little heavy from the exertion of trying to move quickly among the panicked hysteria around them, his chest visibly rising and falling. The sound of police sirens continued to wail through the afternoon as Juice kept working beside him, setting a box filled with cans into the van.
“Like people eating each other, man,” Half-Sack told Jax.
Jax recoiled at the idea, his face twisting in disbelief. Cannibalism? Now that was some bullshit.
“Eating each other?” he repeated skeptically.
Half-Sack nodded, returning his attention to finishing unloading the final cart. “Yeah,” he answered. “It’s not on the news. None of it is, man. But the shit online? There’s videos of people just going Hannibal Lecter on each other. Like…real zombie shit, y’know?”
Jax immediately snorted at the thought before shaking his head. Half-Sack would be the one to fall for that sort of ridiculous conspiracy theory bullshit just because he saw something dumb on the internet.
“Now that’s a load of shit, Sack,” Jax shot back. “Better things to be watchin’ online than fake zombie videos.”
“Yeah, zombies aren’t real,” Juice agreed.
Juice closed the van doors once Half-Sack had loaded the last box inside, but then he paused, both of his hands still pressed against the dark gray doors. His eyes darted between Jax and Half-Sack before he glanced over his shoulder, looking around at the mass hysteria in the Save Mart parking lot. Uncertainty washed over his features before he looked back at Jax.
“Right?” Juice asked, a nervous edge creeping into his tone. “That's just like…horror movie shit, isn't it? A virus can't really do that.”
“Of course not, dumbass,” Jax snapped, rolling his eyes in annoyance at being paired up with these two. “Let’s just get the fuck outta here already.”
“I’m good with that because–”
A high-pitched shriek cut through whatever Juice was saying, the noise so sharp and filled with fear that it tore straight through all of the arguing in the Save Mart lot. The tormented scream ripped straight through Jax, his adrenaline spiking as all of his muscles tensed on instinct. He pushed off the side of the van as the crowd of people fighting in the parking lot suddenly broke apart without warning. Everyone began sprinting to their cars or fleeing the lot in a frenzied panic, running in the opposite direction of whatever was happening across the street from the grocery store.
More screaming soon filled the air as Jax stood beside the van with narrowed eyes, attempting to figure out what the hell everyone was trying to run away from. One hand automatically reached behind himself, landing on the gun tucked into the waistband of the back of his pants. Still struggling to see through the crowd of people running in every direction, Jax was vaguely aware of Juice and Half-Sack taking a few tentative steps closer to him and the van.
Just as an opening appeared among the throng of bodies fleeing, Jax’s eyes finally landed on the grisly sight across the street–the thing everyone was running in fear from. The sight instantly chilled the blood in Jax’s veins, his eyebrows lifting in utter shock as he froze with his hand still on his gun.
He had seen plenty of brutal, violent things in his life since patching in with the Sons. With the way things had gone in recent months, Jax had been forced to make a few kills of his own just to protect the club, kills that still plagued his mind at night. But the sight of a man hunched over a woman across the street, tearing into her throat with his teeth like a rabid animal as she struggled to push him off was easily the most repulsive, disturbing thing he’d ever witnessed.
“Holy shit…” Juice breathed out.
“That–that’s–” Half-Sack stammered, not bothering to finish his thought as he pointed a finger at the scene across the street.
The Sons openly gawked at the man holding the woman down, violently attacking her with his mouth like something inhuman, tearing at her neck repeatedly and ripping chunks of her flesh off until her body went lifeless and still beside the road, her screams abruptly silenced. A handful of Charming police officers began to pull up in squad cars, surrounding the area across the street in an attempt to contain the situation, but the man was more focused on the kill he'd just made than the officers who'd arrived.
Behind the three Sons, people began pouring out of the Save Mart in droves, more shouts and screams filling the air as those inside of the store finally realized what was happening outside. But it wasn’t until the sound of glass shattering that Jax, Juice, and Half-Sack tore their eyes away from the horror across the street and turned their attention to their surroundings.
The doorway to the Save Mart was not wide enough for everyone inside the store to squeeze their way out through all at once. With the hysteria only heightened at the scene unfolding across the street, people began breaking the large glass windows of the store before throwing themselves out between the broken glass in waves. But before Jax could turn to jump into the driver’s seat of the van and hightail it back to the clubhouse to get away from the growing insanity, he saw the nurse that'd been shoved into the store a few minutes ago suddenly pushed outside through one of the now broken windows.
He watched as the woman landed hard on her hands and knees, clearly cutting herself on the bits of glass with the way she'd winced when she fell onto the pavement. But no one seemed to care, everyone continuing to stampede their way out of the store around her. As she tried to get up from the pavement, he saw a woman run right past her, slamming their knee into her shoulder and knocking the nurse back down.
Head whipping over his shoulder, he fixed his attention on Juice and Half-Sack. “Get in the fuckin’ van and get it running,” he ordered. “I'll be right back.”
Without wasting another second, Jax slipped his hand into the front pocket of his jeans before pulling out the keys and tossing them at Juice. He caught them easily before Jax turned and started determinedly pushing his way against the onslaught of people still pouring out of the grocery store, his attention fixed on the nurse struggling on the pavement amidst the broken glass.
“Get the fuck outta my goddamn way!” he snapped in frustration at the panicked people running past him. “Fuckin’ move!”
After much effort of roughly shoving past countless people, Jax eventually reached the spot where you'd been downed, the crowd marginally starting to thin out around you both. Whether it was because of the patch on his back or not, he was grateful when people finally started giving the two of you some space. He just wanted to get you back up onto your feet before all these assholes trampled you.
Lowering down into a crouch in front of you, Jax gently grabbed onto your upper arms and caught your attention. “C'mon, darlin’,” he said, gently trying to urge you up with his help. “Can't be lyin’ in the middle of all this shit. Lemme get you outta this, aight?”
He saw you nod, a wariness in your eyes because of who he was as you met his gaze, but you accepted his help all the same. He finished carefully pulling you up onto your feet before wrapping his arm around your waist, trying to keep you from getting knocked down again in the parking lot that was now filling with cars trying to get out. Briefly glancing down at your hands as he walked, he noticed blood smeared over them and a few bits of glass sticking out of your palms. You were going to need to get that taken care of before your cuts got infected, but that wasn't a priority at the moment–getting you out of this bullshit was.
As he guided you through the crowd, his eyes drifted over to your face, catching the wide-eyed look of terror now etched onto it that was far different from the initial look of uncertainty you'd given him when he'd approached you. But when you abruptly came to a halt staring at whatever was going on across the street, you'd pulled Jax to a stop beside you. Above all the noise filling the air, he just barely caught the words whispered from your lips.
“What the hell is happening?”
Head turning forward, Jax fixed his gaze across the street again just as gunfire rang out in rapid succession. The man who'd been tearing into that woman across the street had abandoned her body, his attention focused on one of the four Charming PD officers who'd just fired off three rounds into his chest. But the man hadn't even flinched, as if the bullets hadn't fazed him in the slightest. And that in conjunction with the blood coating the lower half of his face and staining the front of his clothes made something sick stir inside Jax’s gut.
His arm around your waist instinctively tightened as he watched the police surrounding the man begin to fire off more rounds at him. But the man began running towards one of the officers as if entirely unaffected by the gunshots. It wasn't until a bullet got him in the head that he finally dropped, falling to the ground immobile.
Feeling his heart beating hard in his chest at whatever the fuck he'd just witnessed, Jax’s attention drifted past the officers across the street and towards movement in the distance just beyond them. A handful of people were making their way towards the officers now, but they were ignoring Charming PD's orders to stay back, even with the guns that were drawn on them. Though the way these people were moving towards the police just didn't look quite right. Some of their heads were tilted at odd angles, their steps jerky as they ambled forward. Even at this distance, Jax could see an absurd amount of blood coating their clothes.
Something fucking weird was happening and he didn't want to stick around to find out what the fuck it was.
“Alright, c'mon,” Jax urged, beginning to pull you faster along with him as he headed straight for the van. “We're gettin’ the fuck outta here. That shit ain't right.”
You willingly followed along with him, keeping up with his pace until you seemed to notice where he was leading you. Half-heartedly you pointed a finger in the opposite direction, your head turning towards something else in the parking lot.
“Wait, what about my car?” you weakly protested.
“Forget your fuckin’ car,” Jax shot back, not stopping or slowing down when he heard more gunshots breaking through air. “You're safer with us right now, I can promise you that.”
Reaching the back of the idling van, Jax yanked one of the doors open before he eased you carefully up inside of it. You maneuvered around the containers and boxes of food and water that Juice and Half-Sack had loaded in a bit ago, looking for a space to sit. Jax climbed in after you before roughly pulling the door shut behind himself, his eyes landing on Juice in the driver’s seat.
“Get us the fuck outta here now, Juice!” Jax ordered.
Juice nodded in response, quickly throwing the van in reverse to back out of the parking spot, but the vehicle barely managed to move anywhere in the packed parking lot after. Jax took a seat beside you on the floor in the back, his eyes shifting back down to your injured hands before he grit his teeth. He couldn't tell just how bad they were, but it looked painful.
“There’s too many fucking cars,” Half-Sack complained from the front seat. “We're not getting anywhere with everyone trying to get to the same exit.”
“Then make a fucking exit!” Jax snapped.
“Guess we're off roadin’ then,” Juice said. Looking over his shoulder at Jax and you sitting on the floor in the back of the van, a tight smile spread over his face despite the heavy tension and palpable fear in the air. “Might wanna hold on back there.”
Focusing back in front of himself, Juice spun the steering wheel hard, turning the van around before he pushed a heavy foot down on the accelerator. Anticipating the impact, Jax slung an arm over your shoulder and held you against his side just as the van sped over a curb that caused the whole vehicle to roughly jolt as it hit before it began barreling forward on uneven ground that clearly wasn't a paved street.
Jax caught the sharp hiss of pain you'd grit out between your teeth, the noise causing him to glance over at you in concern. He saw the way you had instinctively reached an injured hand out to brace yourself against a box, but the gesture had only hurt yourself in the process, probably shoving the shards of glass further into your palms.
“Hold on, darlin’,” Jax soothed softly. “We'll get you fixed up at our clubhouse. You'll be somewhere safe soon.”
Summary: After the Indian Hills charter arrives at the safehouse, Clay sends SAMCRO out to search for their missing people. But when their search is fruitless, Jax's fear increases.
a/n: We're nearing the end of this fic/event and I'm getting a little emotional about it over here. I'm not ready for y'all to reach the end of this! But as always, feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!
Jax stepped into the cabin’s kitchen, his arms crossed over his chest and his expression hard. He was pissed off–beyond furious–but even he knew that his rage was just covering what he was really feeling this afternoon.
Fear.
Just before noon, Jury and the rest of the Indian Hills charter–what was still left whole of it after the past few weeks of this outbreak–and the few families that had arrived with them had finally met up with SAMCRO at their safehouse. After a brief period of Indian Hills settling in, Clay had reluctantly agreed to send out a few Sons to search for Bobby, Unser, Chuckie, and you since Jury’s men were able to hang back and protect the others at the cabin.
But after a few hours of searching, everyone reconvened back at the cabin without any luck. As Jax followed Clay and the rest of SAMCRO into the kitchen for a meeting, he’d felt that sinking feeling in his gut growing. You were still out there somewhere, and it was tearing him up inside not knowing what the hell was going on or how to find you. He didn’t want to even think about the worst possible outcome, the one it felt like Clay was going to suggest judging by his expression when he’d taken a seat at the small wooden table in the kitchen.
“So we still got nothin’?” Clay questioned the Sons. He folded his arms along the table as his eyes scanned the faces of the others in the tight quarters of the room. “No sign of ‘em anywhere?”
Solemn expressions painted every Sons’ face as they shook their heads in answer. Jax didn’t want to admit it, but it had been near impossible trying to search for all of you when they had no damn idea where to even start looking. They’d divided up into groups, trying to cover more ground, but that apparently still hadn’t panned out with any results.
“Well,” Chibs said, breaking through the heavy tension in the air, “Tig and I found their van.”
“Where?” Jax demanded, rounding on Chibs. “Where was it?”
Jax’s head darted over his shoulder quickly, his eyes landing on the Scotsman. They’d found the van and he was just now saying something about it?
“Still in Charming,” he grimly answered. “Parked in front o’ Lumpy’s gym. It was empty. My guess is that the group o’ dead cut ‘em off and they were forced to leave it.”
“So then we go back out to Charming and look for them,” Jax stated matter-of-factly, his piercing stare landing back on Clay sitting at the table. “We’ve got a lead now. Maybe we can find something to track from the van, some sign of where they went.”
“Ah, well,” Tig cut in, making a face and shaking his head at the idea. “Charming ain’t exactly that safe to just go walking around now, brother.”
“Aye,” Chibs agreed with a nod. “We had to navigate it on foot. Left the bikes outta town. All that shite yesterday really stirred up all the dead. Hundreds of ‘em–maybe more–are just wanderin’ ‘round the town now. It’s like the population o’ Charming is just walkin’ the streets.”
Clay ran a hand across his mouth, his eyes focused on the table as he contemplated the information. “If it’s that bad,” he mused slowly, “might not be worth sending more men in. Might lose more in the process tryin’ to save a few–assumin’ they're even there. Not sure it’s worth the risk.”
Jax’s eyes narrowed as he took a few heavy steps forward before slapping both of his hands harshly down onto the table, his rings creating a loud crack that echoed through the kitchen. “Are you fuckin’ serious?” he snarled, holding Clay’s stare. “You’re gonna give up on them just like that? We have a lead now, Clay. Somewhere to start.”
“Calm down, Jackie,” Chibs called from across the kitchen. “It’s possible they got outta town on foot. And Bobby and Chuckie know how to hotwire a car, maybe they took somethin’ else. We found no sign of ‘em near the van. We looked ‘round the building, brother. There’s no trail to follow.”
“So what?” Jax snapped, eyes darting to Chibs. “You agree with him then?” His hand raised from the table, roughly gesturing at Clay. “Think we should just sit on our asses and count them as dead now? That it? You wanna say that about Bobby?”
“Enough,” Clay warned, his firm stare fixed on Jax. “You need to calm down, son. Now, we went out and tried lookin’ for them already, just like I promised we would. But you heard Chibs and Tig. Charming is crawlin’ with those psychos, and they didn’t find any trace of ‘em. We can’t just go running in there risking more lives because of an empty van. At this point, they either didn’t make it out, or they did and they’re still on their way to the cabin. There ain’t any more we can do for them.”
Jax’s dark glare held Clay’s, the two men in a clear war over the same issue as yesterday. With both hands still flat on the opposite end of the table, Jax’s jaw tensed so hard that the muscle was jumping in his cheek.
On her?
“Then what?” Jax asked in a dangerous growl. “We’re just supposed to give up on them?”
Clay sighed heavily before settling back in his chair as he held his step-son’s stare. “We ain’t goin’ anywhere ‘til tomorrow morning,” he told him. “That gives ‘em all day to make it up here before we move out. We got Jury’s guys keepin’ an eye on the perimeter in the woods lookin’ for them. What more do you want me to do here, Jax? If they don’t show up today, I think we both know they ain’t ever showin’ up.”
Jax’s hands curled into fists along the table, aware of each of the Sons’ in the room staring at him. He knew he wasn’t acting like himself over this, he knew he seemed far more emotional than he should be about a few missing people. He wasn’t acting level-headed, he wasn’t thinking clearly. But how could he? You’d been missing for a day now. Out there in the middle of the mess of the world facing who knew what.
Commotion outside of the cabin abruptly seeped in through the wooden walls, the muffled sounds of voices growing louder outside. The uptick in noise interrupted the Sons’ meeting, everyone’s attention shifting to the window above the kitchen sink. A few of Jury’s men and some of the others were making their way towards the treeline out of the sightline of the kitchen. Jax’s first thought was that some psychos had found their camp, but no one outside looked panicked.
In the other room, the front door of the cabin loudly flew open as it hit the wall with a sharp bang. The abrupt sound startled the men inside, and Jax’s attention shifted to the kitchen doorway just before Gemma appeared, her hair a little windswept like she’d just ran inside.
“They’re back,” she said, breathless. Her eyes drifted from Clay to Jax. “Jury’s men just found them.”
With his head spinning, Jax didn’t hesitate. He shoved his way past Gemma in a rush and headed straight for the door to the cabin. His heart was hammering in his chest with each swift step as only one thought ran on repeat in his mind.
Please be alive. Please be alive. Please be alive.
Ever since the Calaveras MC attacked the clubhouse, you'd been living a nightmare.
The dead cut off your van from the rest of the group when you’d been trying to get out of Charming, forcing Bobby to circle back through downtown. But you’d all run into a wall of more dead blocking the van’s path when he'd tried to find another exit from town. With the way Jax, Chibs, and Happy had been trying to round up the infected and keep drawing them into town, it’d ultimately led to all of you getting trapped inside of it.
Now as you dragged your tired and aching feet through the dirt, you walked behind Bobby and Chuckie through the forest as best as your completely exhausted body could. Your eyes burned from lack of sleep, the three of you having walked miles on foot all the way from Charming up towards the Sons’ cabin. No one had felt comfortable enough to sleep in the dark last night when you’d all inevitably had to stop, unable to safely travel in the dark. With every snap of a twig and rustle of leaves, everyone had been too on edge to drift off.
Your fingers felt permanently curved around the handle of Jax’s old Glock he’d given you, having kept it in a tight grip over the past twenty-four hours. Too terrified to set it down or put it into the backpack on your back, you’d preferred the comforting weight of it in your hand in the event that the dead suddenly ambushed you all. But the joints of your fingers ached fiercely, even though that paled in comparison to how hungry you were.
Unfortunately, it’d been impossible to grab everything inside of the van when it’d been overrun by the dead. Since your van hadn’t been the one transporting a lot of the food and water–because no one had planned for a group to get cut off from each other like you had–you’d all had to make do with the scraps you had in your bags. But now each of you were severely dehydrated and starving from the long trek on foot.
Bobby’s head perked up when the three of you began nearing what looked like a break in the trees up ahead, the movement drawing your eye. Just past his shoulder, you spotted a man with dark, cropped hair and a thick beard approaching, the sight of him instantly causing you to tense. Fingers tightening around the gun, you weren’t sure if a fight was about to break out before you noticed the leather kutte he was wearing. In front of you, Bobby began to relax as if he recognized the man, and your fear gradually eased away once he called out to him.
“Mickey?” Bobby shouted. “You boys make it out here already?”
“Goddamn, Bobby!” Mickey called back, a grin breaking out over his face at the sight of the group. “Christ, everyone’s been goin’ mad wondering where the hell you all were!”
Relief flooded you as you finally breached the line of trees, the small cabin you'd all been looking for, along with a little makeshift camp full of people beside it, came into sight. You spotted tents scattered around an unlit firepit, multiple bikes parked by vans on a gravel path in front of the cabin, but your eyes were quickly drawn to the handful of Sons making their way down the front porch of the small, wooden building.
“We had a small detour,” Bobby attempted to joke.
Whatever they said next, you didn’t quite hear because you caught sight of the familiar blonde head of hair among the Sons, your eyes finally landing on Jax. It felt like a breath you’d been holding in for far too long finally made its way out of you at the knowledge that he’d made it here safe himself. But the look on his face as his feet began carrying him faster towards you had your chest tightening.
Your sore feet came to a stop along the dirt just as Jax suddenly bolted the rest of the way towards you–his eyes on you and you alone. He’d nearly knocked you off balance when he finally reached you, practically slamming into you as his arms circled your waist. He tugged you roughly against himself, fingers digging into your back as he crushed you into his chest in a tight embrace you hadn't expected.
Tears bloomed in your eyes as your fingers finally released your steadfast grip on the gun, letting it fall to the ground beside your feet before your own arms wrapped around him in return. Your fingers clutched at the back of his kutte, nails digging roughly into the leather and the patches as you held onto him. You pressed your face into his chest, the cool material of his kutte reassuring as the tears began to fall, a strangled sob muffling against him.
Jax buried his face into your neck, his scruff scratching your skin as his hot breath brushed over you. “Shh,” he soothed against you at the sound. “You’re okay, baby. You’re okay.”
You clung to Jax, barely paying attention to everyone else around the two of you greeting Bobby and Chuckie. How this reunion probably looked to everyone else didn’t even cross your mind, all you could focus on was how much you’d missed Jax. How much you hadn’t realized you’d been desperate to see him again.
“Thought I lost you,” he confessed hoarsely, face still buried against your neck. “Really thought I fuckin’ lost you.”
“We had to make it out of Charming on foot,” you told him, turning your face to rest your cheek against his chest. He smelled heavily of cigarettes and sweat, your tear-filled eyes closing as you breathed in the scent of him. “Walked all the way up here.”
Jax exhaled a trembling breath at the realization, his arms squeezing you tighter against himself. “Jesus, I’m sorry, baby,” he murmured.
This time, your ears picked up on the change in what he’d called you. He hadn’t called you that before today–not even once–but you weren’t in the mindset to ask him about it. Especially with how your body reacted at the sound of it–stomach fluttering, heart skipping.
“How the fuck did you get outta Charming?” Jax asked. “Chibs and Tig were out there lookin’ for you guys today, said it was crawlin’ with psychos now.”
Grimacing at the memory of what’d happened when the four of you had been trapped inside of the gym downtown, you pulled away from Jax. Tears continued filling your eyes as you met his confused stare, but everyone else suddenly seemed to realize the singular absence of your group at that moment.
“Where’s Unser?” Gemma called out, eyes darting around the three of you.
Your nails dug tighter into Jax’s kutte at her question, already knowing the answer. Thankfully, Bobby was the one to respond.
“He didn’t make it,” he answered gravely. “We were trapped in Lumpy’s gym downtown tryin’ to catch our breath after we’d gotten outta the van. Dunno how many dead were surrounding the place when we got in there.”
Biting your lip, a few more warm tears slid down your cheeks as Jax shifted his attention over to Bobby, listening as he explained what happened to the missing ex-Chief of Charming Police. You could unfortunately recall that moment all too vividly yourself.
“Unser stayed behind to distract them,” Bobby finished gravely. “Said the cancer was gonna take him out in this world anyway, he wanted to go out doin’ somethin’. Hoping to make up for all the shit he’d done in the past.”
A quiet settled over everyone as the realization of what Unser had done hung in the air. You hadn’t forgotten the way he’d said goodbye before the three of you left him to his fate in that gym. You knew he'd gone down just like Half-Sack had. Your throat felt tight as the tears continued softly falling down your cheeks, hating that this was how things were now.
Jax’s attention returned to you still wrapped in his arms, his blue eyes softening as he began to understand just what you'd gone through out there. “You good?” he asked quietly. “I mean…really okay?”
Shaking your head, you shrugged weakly at his question. “I don’t really know how to feel right now,” you whispered back, still clutching his kutte. “This past day has been…”
Your voice trailed off as you pressed your lips firmly together. A few more tears slipped down your cheeks as you shook your head again, bottom lip trembling. You didn’t want to talk about it. You didn’t even want to think about it.
“I’m just tired,” you finished softly.
“Well, you're safe now,” Jax assured you. “A’ight? I got you now, baby. So why don't we go get you somethin’ to eat and some water, yeah?” He shifted, keeping one arm wrapped around your waist like he refused to let you go as he bent over to retrieve the gun you’d dropped. After, he started guiding you back towards the cabin. “You can get some rest in my tent after I get you taken care of.”
Your sore feet followed along beside him, protesting each step with how much you'd already walked over the past day. But it took you a moment to catch what he’d said, your brows drawing together in confusion when it registered.
“You…want me in your tent?” you asked.
Jax's head turned over his shoulder as he looked at you, the ghost of a smile on his lips. “‘Course I want you in my damn tent,” he answered like it was obvious. “I'm not lettin’ you outta my goddamn sight after that.”
His words relaxed something inside of you as you both continued towards the cabin, and you found yourself leaning into his side. Your head slowly lowered to rest against his shoulder, feeling some peace in the simple fact that you'd at least found each other again.
With how spent you'd been from the long walk up to the cabin from Charming, you'd easily fallen asleep for the rest of the afternoon after Jax made sure you’d eaten. He had brought you back to his tent to let you rest, and you'd snuggled up in the sleeping bag that smelt so much like him that it lulled you straight into a deep sleep despite all of the noise outside. You'd only woken in the evening when Jax had stopped by wanting to make sure you didn't miss dinner. But then you'd returned back to the safety and comfort of his tent afterwards, trying to get as much rest before the drive to Goose Lake tomorrow morning.
It wasn't until Jax was sliding into the sleeping bag with you–not even having heard the zipper of the tent or him removing his clothing–before you stirred in your sleep. A soft hum vibrated in your throat as you drowsily blinked open your eyes, darkness meeting your sight. The warmth of Jax pressed against your back registered in your half-awake mind just before you felt him sliding a hand over your waist, resting it against your stomach as he pulled you back against himself.
“Go back to sleep,” he murmured.
Your heavy eyelids slowly lowered when you felt his nose nuzzle just behind your ear, his lips brushing against the skin along the side of your neck as his warm breath fell down the front of you. It felt far too good to be held by him again, to be safely tucked up against him while you slept. Last night was the first night in weeks that you hadn’t had Jax’s comfort to fall asleep with, your back instead pressed against the rough bark of a tree as your tired eyes fought to stay open until sunrise.
“I got you now,” he assured you.
His warm breath continued grazing the side of your neck, causing goosebumps to erupt over your arms as the little hairs along them rose. You shifted further backwards against Jax, seeking the comfort of him while half-awake as another sleepy, contented noise left you. Shifting beneath the sleeping bag, one of your hands grabbed the one he had resting on your stomach, and Jax’s fingers threaded through yours.
“Sleep,” he ordered firmly.
But you could feel the way his lips drew back into a smile against your skin, amused at the way you were trying to get closer to him. The feel of it had a faint smile pulling at your own mouth, grateful that you could still have moments like this with him even though you were no longer in his room at the clubhouse. With the haze of sleep still hanging heavy over you, clouding your mind, your quiet words came out before you realized they had.
“I missed you,” you confessed.
“Yeah?” he asked gruffly, his smile still pressed against your neck. “Did you now?”
You hummed a sleepy response, eyes still closed as the warmth from his body filled the sleeping bag. His nose gently brushed against the shell of your ear, the gesture soft and intimate. Affectionate. Something you weren’t used to with him. It had a heat beginning to settle low inside of you as your ass involuntarily pressed back into him again.
“Didn’t think we’d make it here before everyone left,” you told him, exhaustion still heavy in your voice. “Didn’t think we’d make it back at all.”
You’d spent so much time on that long, awful journey from Charming out to this cabin thinking that kiss in the clubhouse was the last time you’d ever see Jax. Thinking that you'd lost him forever, either because you figured you'd die on your way trying to get to the cabin, or because everyone would have already left by the time the three of you had gotten there. Or because maybe Jax had gotten himself killed trying to round up the dead and hadn't gotten to the cabin, either.
“I was worried as shit ‘bout you,” he admitted, his warm breath brushing along your skin as he spoke. “Felt like I was goin’ outta my goddamn mind wondering where you were. I hated every fuckin’ second you were gone. Kept fighting with Clay to let me look for all of you.”
Jax’s lips pressed a soft, barely-there kiss against the side of your neck that caused your breath to catch at how gentle it was. Your eyelids fluttered open, landing on the dark blue wall of the tent in the faint bit of moonlight seeping through the fabric. His hand knitted with yours on your stomach pressed you even closer to his chest and you swallowed hard.
You couldn't leave things unspoken anymore. You knew that now. Not after the way you'd both been separated, and not with the way he'd greeted you when he saw you again. You needed to understand what was going on between you both before you somehow lost the opportunity.
“What is this, Jax?” you whispered into the dark.
His lips grazed your skin as he ran his mouth back and forth along the base of your neck, his warm breath fanning across you. “Think we both know this ain't just stress relief,” he murmured. “And after losing you for a day–”
His mouth pressed another kiss to you, but this one lingered, flooding your body with more of that familiar heat. A soft sigh fell past your lips, your thighs involuntarily pressing together as your hips once more shifted against him.
“You’re what keeps me fighting,” he finished quietly.
You instantly stilled at his words, your eyes staring at the wall of the tent. You had not expected him to say that. But hearing it sent a pleasant thrill through your whole body that you couldn't ignore, one that felt like it set your blood on fire.
Rolling over in his hold, you turned towards Jax in the sleeping bag, his face just barely visible in the dark. Slipping a hand over his waist, your fingers ran up the expanse of his bare back before digging into the warm flesh and tugging him closer to you. Your stare held his as your heart pounded loudly in your own ears at that unexpectedly honest confession.
“You're my reason, too,” you whispered back.
Jax's hand left its place on your hip, cradling the side of your face in his palm before he abruptly drew you forward. His mouth landed firmly on yours–urgent and needy. The scruff of his facial hair gently rasped against you as you returned the kiss, your fingers digging tighter into the muscle of his back as if you could somehow hold onto this moment forever.
This kiss felt far different than all the others you'd had before with him. As his tongue pushed its way into your mouth, slowly lapping against yours, you could tell he was kissing you as if trying to reassure himself that you were actually here–that this was real. That you'd truly made it back and found each other.
With both of you quickly losing yourself in each other, Jax’s hands began eagerly tugging at your clothes, removing everything you'd fallen asleep in. But even as your own hands slipped his boxers down his thighs, neither of you completely broke away from the kiss that had grown more heated and hungry with each passing second. And when you’d finally gotten each other completely unclothed, mouths still connected in an increasingly frenzied kiss, Jax’s hands found your hips before he pulled you up onto himself. The sleeping bag fell away from the both of you as you straddled his waist, laying over the top of him.
“Stay with me,” Jax demanded against your mouth.
Those three words had you involuntarily beginning to rock against him, your slickness gliding along the underside of his cock pressed between you both. A hiss of pleasure fell out between Jax’s gritted teeth and you groaned at the sound, your body beginning to move a bit more desperately against him. His fingers dug into your hips, blunt nails leaving a delicious sting as you rested your forehead against his.
“Stay with me through this shit,” he breathed out. “Just stay with me.”
Your nose lightly nudged his, a small smile slipping onto your face at what he was asking of you. “I haven't wanted to be anywhere else for weeks,” you confessed, your faces barely an inch apart. “I thought I was just sex to you.”
His hand reached down between you both, gripping the base of his cock while his other hand helped shift you on top of him. A low hum fell past your lips when he pressed the thick tip of himself against your entrance, his hand on your hip gently urging you down onto his length.
“You're the only fuckin’ thing keepin’ me sane,” he husked out. “Since the goddamn beginning of this shit.”
With that rough grip on your hip, Jax helped ease you down onto him until he filled you fully. He moaned out–the noise deep and throaty–as your walls began to stretch around him, always struggling to fit him at first. Your own teeth sunk into your bottom lip as your hips gave a few slow, circular rolls along him, just enjoying the fullness of him inside of you again.
“Fuckin’ missed you,” he grit out.
His hand caressed its way up your spine until his large palm cradled the back of your head, then he sharply pulled you down towards his mouth again, keeping you lying flush over the top of him. As he pressed his lips against yours, his other hand grabbed a fistful of your ass and began urging you to move along the length of him–steady and deliberate.
You immediately obliged, your hips bouncing along his cock in a rhythmic pace. His own hips began rocking up to meet yours, plunging himself deeper and deeper inside of you, hitting that spot that had your eyes struggling not to roll back. He felt so good, filling you so completely like he'd just finally made you whole tonight, the sound of your panting breaths filling the tent. His hand on the back of your head kept your forehead pressed against his, your hot breaths mingling in the small space between your mouths.
“You're with me now,” he grunted. “Got that?”
You nodded against his forehead, feeling that familiar knot low in your stomach beginning to abruptly tighten with how your clit kept rubbing along him in this position. Moaning against his mouth, you could feel the flex of his muscles against your own body as the pair of you moved in sync together, both of you moving in a way that felt far more intimate, far more intense than anything you’d ever experienced before.
“My girl,” Jax ground out.
Nodding your forehead along his again, a high-pitched whine left you. “Yours,” you agreed breathlessly.
You could feel your orgasm fast approaching, quickly nearing its peak. There was absolutely no way you were going to last, not with all the emotions being laid bare between you both right now. As a low moan fell out of you, Jax’s lips crashed back onto yours and swallowed down the sound, attempting to keep you both from making too much noise with everyone else asleep outside in the other tents.
His hand gripping your ass held it tighter in his hold, pressing you roughly back down onto him over and over. When he groaned into your mouth, you knew he was close, too. Your pussy tightened around him, your own body trembling on top of his as you drew closer to that delicious edge. When your hips began to stutter against his, your eyes squeezed tightly shut just before your orgasm finally slammed into you. His mouth muffled the cry of pleasure that flew up from your chest while his hand cradling the back of your head held you firmly in place.
Jax was following after you almost immediately, his hips bucking roughly up into you before a deep rumbling noise in his chest vibrated against yours. He came seconds later, his warm release filling you like he was claiming you as his, your cunt still clenching around him in the aftershocks of your own climax. Both of you continued unevenly rolling your hips into each other as you rode out your high, desperate to prolong this moment together.
Breathing heavily in the small tent, it took a minute before you both eventually began to still against each other. Still lying flush over the top of him as you both panted for air in the dark, Jax’s hand dropped down from the back of your head, falling to rest between your shoulder blades. His own chest rose and fell heavily beneath you, the movement rocking you gently along him.
You'd never fucked each other quite like that before–not even that night after kissing on the clubhouse rooftop. You’d felt an intense mix of emotions that had your chest heaving against his, your eyelids growing heavy with exhaustion and contentment. But as you tried to push yourself upright to get off of him, feeling his cock gradually softening inside of you, his firm grip on your back kept you from moving far.
“No,” he breathed out beneath you. “Stay.”
You looked down at him in the dark, brows drawing together. “You sure?”
He nodded, pushing against your back again and urging you to stay there. Lowering yourself back down against him, you rested your cheek against his chest and let your eyes close as a blissful smile slipped over your face.
“Keepin’ you right here,” he mumbled.
Jax began to adjust the sleeping bag back over the both of you, shifting a little beneath you as he did. He clearly planned to settle in for sleep like this, and you couldn't fight the breathy, amused noise that left you, aware of his cock still inside of you and the wet, sticky mess between your bodies.
“You're sure you're going to be comfortable like this?” you asked him.
After pulling the sleeping bag back over you both again, Jax’s fingers began lightly running along your back, trailing up and down your skin and causing you to shudder at his touch. You felt yourself relaxing further against him, the exhaustion taking hold of you again.
“Damn right I am,” he assured you, a hint of his usual smugness returning. “Ain't movin’ the rest of the night, baby. You're stuck like this ‘til the sun comes up. Dick and all.”
Shaking lightly with laughter along the top of him, you found yourself not remotely minding the idea of sleeping in this position. In fact, you liked the thought of there not being a single inch of space between you both for the rest of the night after the distance you'd just experienced. As you shifted to get comfortable, you were incredibly aware of the fullness of him inside of you, your pussy still occasionally squeezing around him.
“Mmm, guess I'm not complaining,” you hummed back.
“Good,” he said, a smile in his voice. “Now go back to sleep like I fuckin’ told you to.”
Eyes remaining closed with that little smile still on your lips, the last thing you remembered was the soft press of his lips along the top of your head before you finally drifted off.
Summary: You can tell something is bothering Jax with the way he's using you tonight, but you're shocked when he finally tells you what it is.
a/n: I am so excited to share this update with y'all!! It's so damn hard keeping quiet about everything that's coming in this fic when I'm over here working on part 12 and y'all are only at part 6. But feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!
Fingers twisted up in the sheets of Jax’s bed, your teeth bit down hard on his pillow stuffed in your mouth, fighting to keep from screaming out.
Jax lay flush over the back of you, his sweat-slicked chest pressing you down into the mattress, his body so close that you could feel the taut muscles of his abdomen flexing along your back with each thrust. He was raised up on just a single forearm, his other hand firmly holding the back of your neck and keeping the side of your face shoved into his bed. With his mouth hovering over your right shoulder, every rough grunt and sharp gasp fell into your ear while he hammered himself into you so forcefully from behind that his mattress rammed into the wall with a repetitive thump thump thump.
The tips of his blonde hair tickled your back while your entire body trembled beneath him, your pussy constricing around his length as he kept punishingly slamming it into you as if he needed this more than he usually did. You struggled to keep from crying out in pleasure at the aggressive way he was using you tonight, but nothing could quiet the forceful sounds of his hips slapping against your ass over and over and over.
“That's fuckin’ right.” Jax’s words came out a snarl between gritted teeth, his pace unwavering. “Wanted this, didn't you? Needed to get fucked so hard you couldn't fuckin’ think?”
The only response you could manage was a choked whimper around the corner of his pillow in your mouth. You could feel your orgasm rapidly approaching, pleasure burning its way up your spine as your fingernails dug into the mattress with it drawing nearer.
“Think you can keep that pretty fuckin’ mouth of yours shut?” he growled beside your ear. “Think no one's gonna know who's been makin’ you moan every–goddamn–night?”
His final words were punctuated with three rough thrusts that had your eyelids growing heavy, your back arching up further into his chest behind you. Whenever he lost himself in you and the filth started to pour from his lips, you found yourself falling apart even faster than normal. No one had ever said half the shit he did to you, and something about the low, gravely tone of his voice paired with his words always had you coming undone like it'd become your singular weakness.
Teeth grinding down against the pillow in your mouth, a muffled cry burst out of you just before your orgasm hit like a wave finally cresting. Body quivering on the bed beneath him, your nails bit into the mattress as you came hard on his cock, eyes squeezing shut. But Jax's relentless pace continued as he chased after his own release, your pussy clenching tight around him as he fucked you through your orgasm.
“Fuck,” Jax gritted out beside your ear. He continued roughly pumping into you, his hand on your neck holding you firmer to the bed and keeping you trapped against it. “Thatta girl. Thatta fuckin’ girl. Let it out.”
Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes at the intensity of your climax while he kept up his brutal pace, pounding himself into you from behind. Breathing hard through your nose with the pillow still clamped between your teeth, you felt his hand tighten its grip on the back of your neck a little more. With another powerful and unsteady thrust into you again, Jax slammed himself so deep inside of you that you inhaled a sharp breath through your nose, swearing you could feel the delicious burn of him all the way behind your eyes.
The curse under his breath was followed by a low groan before he came, your body growing leaden beneath him with the aftermath of your orgasm still coursing through you. You could feel the warmth of his release as he began to empty himself inside of you in hot spurts–something he got off on since he knew you couldn’t get pregnant. Your pussy continued convulsing around him with the aftershocks of your pleasure, taking everything he had to give until the tension in his body finally began to ease against your back.
Jax exhaled a long, slow breath afterwards, the warmth of it running down your shoulder as it fell past his lips. Releasing his hold on the back of your neck, his hand landed on the bed beside you before he slowly pushed himself up, his cock softly slipping out from inside of you. He collapsed down on his back next to you in the dimly lit room with a grunt afterwards, his chest rapidly rising and falling as he tried to catch his breath.
One of your hands sluggishly reached up, pulling the now damp pillow out from between your teeth. Readjusting your position on the mattress, you tugged the pillow just a bit further down to rest your head on it, a tired and contented smile drawing over your lips as you lay beside him in the dark. Your pussy would be aching and sore tomorrow with how roughly he'd been pounding into you tonight and last night, but you didn't care. Every time Ima threw you a dirty look across the room as she clung to Jax, you at least had the reminder of who he was actually spending his nights with every time you shifted in a chair.
Beside you, Jax scrubbed a hand down his face as his own breath came in labored and heavy, that sound now replacing the obscene noise of skin against skin from a minute ago. His hand wearily slid down past his chin before it fell to rest along his bare and sweat glistening chest. Turning his head on the pillow, his eyes found you in the dark.
“You good, darlin’?” he asked, breathless.
Gaze meeting his, you nodded once. “Mhmm,” you hummed.
Your body was still buzzing from the orgasm, your own breath still a little uneven as you lay there next to him. He’d certainly been rougher than usual tonight, but you hadn’t exactly minded. Despite only actually knowing Jax for almost two weeks now, you trusted that he wasn’t going to hurt you. And the sex was still a useful distraction from everything else happening around you in the world, a distraction you had no intention of losing.
“C’mere,” he murmured, a hand sliding towards you along the bed.
Letting Jax tug you closer to him by your hip, you slid over to him until you were wrapped up in his arms. Snuggled up against his naked body, his broad shoulder became your pillow as it often had recently.
This was the part of your days that you always looked forward to–the aggressive sex that was immediately contrasted with the softness of cuddling naked on his bed after. You’d usually fall into conversation for a bit before eventually drifting off to sleep, something that always made your nightmarish days better. Despite the few little interactions you occasionally managed with him during the day, you at least got him completely to yourself like this every night. And while you still had no idea what the hell this arrangement between you both even was, having fallen into it with him since the beginning of the outbreak–even with Ima’s continued attempts to undermine it–you liked it. Jax made you feel safe, and these nights gave you something to look forward to during the day.
But the way he’d been with you tonight wasn’t lost on you, and you figured the roughness and apparent frustration in the way he’d fucked you wasn’t due to just the stress of the supply run he’d been on earlier today. Even with how exhausted and spent he was as his fingers traced up and down your back absently, you could tell something was on his mind.
Raising your head from his shoulder, you rested your chin along his chest as you looked up at him. Through the faint moonlight illuminating his room at the late hour, you saw his eyes shift down from the ceiling as he focused back on you. You noticed that he was quieter than usual tonight, too.
“You seem frustrated still,” you pointed out carefully. Fingertips running softly along his chest, you felt the bit of sweat lingering on his skin dampen the pads of them. “Something on your mind, Jax?”
A deep sigh fell out of him before he glanced away from you, his tongue wetting his lips in silent contemplation. He looked like he was considering telling you it was nothing–which you weren’t about to believe after how he'd just used you. With the way the world was now, there was clearly something eating at him with how he was acting tonight.
“Hey, what’s going on?” you gently pressed, a crease forming between your brows as your concern grew. “Something’s bothering you, I can tell.”
“It’s just–” he hesitated, his eyes drifting back towards you in the dark. With a frustrated noise, he ran a free hand across his forehead, pushing some of his hair back from his sweat-dampened skin. “There’s a hospital run Clay wants to do tomorrow. To pick up more medical supplies and meds before St. Thomas gets overrun or picked over by someone else,” he finally relented.
“That’s…not exactly a bad idea,” you countered slowly, brows still furrowed. “My medical bag is limited. And I don’t have things like penicillin in there if someone were to get an infection. The hospital would have a lot more useful things I don’t have access to.”
In the dark, you saw the way Jax’s lips thinned out on his face. His hand paused its movements along the length of your spine, lingering against your lower back as his fingers rubbed absent circles over your bare skin.
“Yeah, sure,” he agreed easily. “But that’s not exactly the issue.”
You blinked back at him for a moment, trying to read between the lines and failing. “Okay, so what is the issue?”
He blew out a rough breath, the tension returning to his body beside you. “He wants you to come with a few of us when we go,” he answered. “And I don’t like that.”
Your head lifted off Jax’s chest in surprise, your eyes widening a little. “Me?” you asked. “What? Why?”
Jax’s fingers stopped moving entirely at your questions, his hand splaying wide over your lower back instead. The warmth of it was soothing despite what he’d just told you, but it didn't stop the image of Mrs. Palmer from the other week briefly flitting through your mind, or the sound of her inhuman snarling resurfacing in your memory.
“Clay thinks you’d be the best person to go,” Jax explained. “You’re a nurse who used to work there. He figures you’d know what’s worth grabbin’ and where it’d be, but I don’t see why you couldn’t just make a list or somethin’. Makes no damn sense to put you in danger by bringin’ you with us.”
This was the first you were hearing about this hospital run and your mind immediately began racing with panicked thoughts, nerves steadily filling you at the idea of going with them–of leaving the safety of the clubhouse. Ever since the outbreak started almost two weeks ago, only the Sons and Chuckie had been allowed to leave on supply runs. The Sons had never cleared anyone else to go out past the clubhouse's tall fence, not deeming it safe.
You figured the hospital’s generators would have been down by now because they weren’t meant to last a power failure of this length. Which meant pitch black hallways probably filled with the infected, especially since the place hadn’t been evacuated when the outbreak started. It wasn’t like St. Thomas was some massive hospital inside of a city, but it still held multiple patients on multiple floors. Meaning who knew how many of those things like Mrs. Palmer lurked in the shadows wanting to tear apart anyone who stepped foot inside.
But you couldn’t deny that Clay had a point. While Jax was right, you probably could make a list of important things for them to grab, and maybe you could draw up some sort of map for the guys about where to find everything, you also knew the risk for error was higher if they went without you. You knew that hospital far better than any of them, you’d be able to get them in and out significantly faster. And a faster trip meant less chance for those things swarming them in the narrow hallways, or for them to get trapped on a floor not knowing how to navigate the confusing layout in the dark in order to get out.
“You don’t have to agree to it, darlin’,” Jax said softly, breaking through your thoughts. “It’s just an option. One I don’t like.”
“He’s right, though,” you stated, eyes finding his once more. “Things would go a lot smoother with me. It’d be more efficient. I’d be an asset to the group on this.”
“Darlin’–”
“I’ll go,” you told him, ignoring your increasing anxiety at the idea. “If there’s something more I can do to help out besides cooking, cleaning, and patching someone up, I’ll help. You guys took me in when you didn’t have to, and it’s stupid to rely on everyone else to keep me safe. Besides, I should learn how to handle myself out there.” You shrugged, your fingers resuming the gentle ministrations along his bare chest again as you tried to draw strength from him. “We’re all just living on borrowed time now, right? Not like we can live in this clubhouse forever. Food is eventually going to run out, and that means at some point we'll have to leave here. I need to–to get used to the idea of what’s happening out there.”
Jax studied you silently in the dim moonlight shining across your face, a pensive expression on his own. Your hand moved up along his chest, your fingers finding their way into his beard as the tips of them lightly played with the hairs somewhat affectionately. Jax laid there with his head on the pillow, some of his blonde hair still clinging to the sweat on his forehead as he watched you.
“What?” you asked.
“It’s just–you’re not wrong,” he admitted after a moment. “About stayin’ here forever. It’s somethin’ we’ve been talkin’ about for a bit, somethin’ we’ve been tryin’ to figure out. But we’ve been keepin’ everything quiet while we’ve been discussing the details.”
Head tilting curiously to the side, your fingers continued running back and forth along his jaw as his words piqued your interest. But the way he leaned into your touch like he was craving it hadn’t gone unnoticed.
“The details for what, exactly?” you questioned.
“We’ve been keepin’ in touch with a few of the other Sons’ charters,” Jax began slowly, as if uncertain whether he was supposed to be telling you all of this. “Using satellite radios. One of the guys in another charter told us ‘bout this place up near Goose Lake where some crazy doomsday prepper built a bunker. The other charter presidents around here are thinkin’ we can caravan our people out there and turn it into some sorta community. Build it up, fortify it, figure out how to grow food. A few of the guys are already good at hunting and fishing.”
Lips parting in surprise, you hadn’t expected Jax to drop that on you. That was…big. Huge. A journey a few hours further north to the corner of California would certainly be dangerous while trying to move everyone, but a place to actually build a community? One with multiple Sons of Anarchy charters capable and willing to protect it? You couldn’t deny that it sounded like a smart move, because the clubhouse wasn’t a viable option to live in forever. At some point, resources would run out here.
Though you couldn’t help but feel a tinge of disappointment, not just at the idea of leaving Charming, but at eventually losing all these nights in private with Jax. Would this thing between you both even continue if the sex stopped or became too infrequent because of a lack of privacy? Or would he find someone else among the other groups meeting up at Goose Lake and lose interest in you? The thought had a sinking feeling hit you in the chest, as if there was suddenly a timer ticking down on whatever this thing was. An expiration date closing in.
But however confusing your feelings were at the moment, they were not what was important right now, not when you needed to worry about staying alive. The little community they wanted to build together was a good idea and the best shot you all had at long term survival in this mess. Even if that meant you might have to lose whatever this was between you and Jax in the end. You needed to focus on the bigger picture and not on the present. If Jax found someone else, then he found someone else.
“So that’s why Clay wants to hit up St. Thomas?” you asked, fingers stilling along his jaw. “Because we’re leaving Charming soon? And we’re going to need more medical supplies for a larger group of people?”
Jax nodded along his pillow, his eyes narrowing slightly as if he’d caught your subtle shift in mood. “Yeah,” he answered. “Some charters are already headin’ out that way, but Clay is waitin’ on one of ‘em to meet up with us here before we head up north. But once we do, we ain’t comin’ back here.”
Swallowing hard, you tried to quell the rising nerves at the thought of the run tomorrow that was overshadowing your fear of Jax finding someone else. “Then I'll go along with you guys to the hospital,” you repeated more firmly. “We're going to need a lot more things if we're growing our numbers soon.”
A frown tugged at the corners of Jax’s lips as his hand slid up your back, pressing gently between your shoulder blades and urging you to lay back down against him. “Then we should get some sleep, darlin’,” he murmured. “Gonna need to be rested to deal with all of that shit tomorrow. I need you thinkin' clearly.”
Resting your head back onto his shoulder, Jax began pulling up the sheets, fixing them to cover both of your naked bodies. As you settled against him to sleep like you'd done over the past few weeks, you clung more tightly to him than usual, aware that an end to these nights alone in his room was on the horizon.
Pairing: Jax Teller x fem!nurse!Reader Word Count: 3.3k [Series Masterlist] [Jax Fic Masterlist]
Warnings/tags: 18+; angst, gore, horror, zombies
Summary: In the mess of the outbreak, you find safety in the most surprising place.
a/n: Thank y'all SO MUCH for all the love and excitement on the first part of this little event/fic! There's a lot of things to come for this series, and I am dying to share it with y'all already. Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!
You'd lived in Charming for a few years and driven past the Sons’ clubhouse often, but you'd never stepped a single foot inside of it before–not that you ever really expected you would have a reason to be in it. You’d never even taken your car to be serviced at Teller-Morrow Automotive with how uncomfortable the Sons had always made you.
But as you sat on one of the couches near the pool table, your nose slightly wrinkled as you inhaled the scent of cigarette smoke and something else that lingered in the fabric of the cushions, you scanned the room around you as the clubhouse bustled with activity. A handful of Sons in their leather kuttes were moving about the place with a purpose, as if they knew exactly what was going on and what needed to be done. The sight of them seemingly so self-assured in the middle of everything happening surprisingly comforted you.
Attention drifting back towards a television mounted on the wall above their bar, you watched the news segment currently playing with the volume low. Around the open space, other men, women, and children that you assumed were friends and family of the club were huddled on various chairs and couches, all of them wearing expressions that were a mix of confusion and anxiety. And after what you'd just personally witnessed in front of the Save Mart, you figured you probably had a similar look on your face.
It'd been almost an hour since Jax had brought you here and introduced you to the two other men you'd left the chaos at the grocery store with, learning that the patched member who’d been driving was called Juice, and the prospect–apparently not an actual Son yet–was called Half-Sack. Choosing not to question the oddity of their names, sincerely hoping they were just nicknames, your attention had quickly switched to tending to your injuries.
Though shortly after you'd stepped inside the clubhouse, the Sons were already urgently pulling Jax away to handle something else. But before he’d disappeared, he'd introduced you to Chibs, a Son with a thick Scottish accent. It'd been Chibs who you’d sat with at a table as he pulled the bits of glass from your palms until he’d expertly removed every last piece that’d lodged into your skin after you'd been pushed out of the grocery store window. But with all the commotion in the clubhouse, even Chibs was soon called away to deal with another issue, leaving you left to clean and bandage your own cuts using the Sons’ dwindling medical supplies.
With no idea what you should do once your injuries had been taken care of more than twenty minutes ago, you'd taken a seat on an empty couch and tried to stay out of the way of everyone else. Your focus kept oscillating between the groups of people scattered around the room, the mug shots proudly displayed on the back wall, the disturbing videos playing on repeat of the country-wide hysteria on the news, and the seemingly important conversation happening at the far end of the bar that you were seated just close enough to eavesdrop on.
You recognized Clay and Gemma as they stood closely huddled around Charming’s Chief of Police, Unser. Jax had joined the three of them a few minutes ago, leaning against the bar with his brows furrowed deeply in concern the longer the four of them spoke. Your initial surprise at seeing Unser here looking completely at ease in the middle of the Sons of Anarchy clubhouse had quickly been replaced by a morbid curiosity as you carefully listened in to their discussion.
“Can you blame the department for disbanding so quickly?” Unser continued in a hushed tone, a frown on his face as his gaze swept between Jax and Clay. “With the shit going on out in Charming right now? After what happened in front of the goddamn grocery store?”
“So you’re telling us that Charming PD just…bailed on you?” Clay asked in disbelief.
Unser shrugged helplessly, his lips tugging to the side at the question. “Yeah, that's what I'm telling you. Charming police are no more at this point.”
“You can't be serious,” Jax replied, his gaze hard and his voice low. “There's people looting stores and gettin’ attacked out there, and your guys just decided to go AWOL on everyone in the middle of all this shit?”
Throwing his hands up in frustration, Unser fixed his eyes on Jax. “What do you expect me to do?” he shot back. “Charming PD is full of small-time cops. We aren't equipped for this sorta shit, Jax. We handle petty crimes, traffic violations, and the shit you guys occasionally drag into town. Whatever is wrong with those people out there, I got no damn idea how to deal with it,” he admitted. “And my officers all wanna get back to their own families and get the hell outta town. You expect me to stop them?”
“So what’s really goin’ on out there then?” Gemma asked, cutting straight to the point.
Your eyes lingered on the television above the bar, but out of the corner of your eye you caught the way the matriarch of SAMCRO leaned a hip against the counter as she stood beside her husband. Her arms were crossed over her chest, a fearless look on her face as she focused on Unser. With the way she was carrying herself, she looked far more prepared to deal with the craziness going on outside than probably any one of his officers. And with what you’d often overheard about the woman in the gossip that spread around Charming and St. Thomas, you didn’t doubt that.
“I got no damn clue,” Unser answered her, running a hand over the top of his balding head. “Last report I got was of a sixty somethin' year old lady eating the intestines of her neighbor. Took seven rounds in the chest and didn't even flinch. Not until she got one in the head.” His gaze turned back towards Jax and Clay as he continued. “So no, I ain’t got no hope of keeping the damn department together dealing with that kinda weird shit out there. Our best hope is the goddamn government at this point. The National Guard or somethin’.”
Unable to resist, you looked over at the small group standing by the bar, a sick feeling growing in your gut. Had things really gotten that bad out there that now Charming was left waiting for outside help while it fended for itself?
“So we’re just handlin’ it on our own now?” Clay clarified, fingers contemplatively running along his chin. “With no repercussions from the law?”
“Sure fuckin’ seems like it,” Unser replied. “Got no other choice. None of us are exactly trained to handle the kinda shit going on out there. All my officers panicked and left.”
Clay glanced over, catching your eye before you quickly looked away, pretending to be surveying the inside of the clubhouse again and not blatantly eavesdropping on their conversation. Your hands stung beneath the bandages you'd recently wrapped them in as you nervously fidgetted with them in your lap, still straining to listen to what was being said nearby.
“Alright, alright,” Clay said, attempting to diffuse the growing tension. “Maybe we should discuss all this in private in the future. Don’t need to cause panic in the clubhouse with everyone stayin’ here. Just see what other information you can find out about what’s goin’ on out there before bringing your trailer back and parkin’ it in the lot. You can hold up with us while this shitstorm lasts, Chief."
The group broke apart as their conversation drew to a close, your eyes remaining fixed on the television as it began playing a video that you’d already seen a handful of times in the past few minutes now. There’d been a horrible accident on the I-5 not that far from Charming–a massive, multi-car pile up from everyone trying to flee to somewhere with what was going on. News helicopters had taken footage of paramedics loading a seemingly dead body onto a stretcher only for the supposed dead man to grab the paramedic and begin tearing into his jugular.
Whatever was going on out there, it almost seemed like there wasn’t anywhere safe to run to anymore. Panic and chaos had broken out everywhere with the alarming amounts of reports of people just violently attacking each other. More videos had surfaced of men and women taking multiple gunshots to the chest without going down while news anchors sat bemused as they struggled to even figure out how to report what was happening across the world.
“Hey,” Jax said, his low rasp catching your attention from the television. “How’re you holdin’ up, darlin’?”
Before everything that had happened today, you would’ve normally avoided spending any amount of time around the Sons, but now you’d found yourself preferring their company in the strange situation currently happening beyond their thick, concrete walls. Their clubhouse was like a well-protected fortress from what you’d seen just on the way inside. There was a gate at least fifteen feet tall covered in barbed wire that they'd kept closed now, making it impossible for anyone to enter their compound without their permission. And while usually the sight of men standing on rooftops with assault rifles would terrify you, knowing some Sons were up there and armed right now had you feeling somewhat more relaxed after everything that you'd been seeing on the news.
“Honestly?” you began, your bandaged hands still nervously fidgeting in your lap. “Not great considering Unser just said the Charming police department no longer exists.”
Instead of getting angry, you caught the way Jax’s lips quirked upwards at the corner. “You were listenin’ in to all that?” he asked.
“Can you blame me?” you questioned back. Tipping your head towards the news, you saw Jax’s eyes follow to where you’d gestured, watching the gruesome video playing again on the screen. “With things like that going on right now? Kind of hard to not want answers.”
One of Jax’s ringed hands came up, the tips of his fingers running over his lips as he flinched at the image of the paramedic having his throat torn open. His eyes shifted away from the screen seconds later, landing on a few of the kids in the clubhouse staring in horror at the video on the television before trying to hide their faces against their parents.
“Yeah, maybe we shouldn’t be playin’ that shit out here for everyone to see,” he mused quietly. “Don’t think it’s gonna help anythin’ watching that.”
“They keep saying it’s drugs,” you told him, the sound of your voice drawing his eyes back to you. “But there’s no way drugs are making people do that. Or a virus. That level of violence? The way they’re not going down from multiple bullets? I don’t understand how that’s possible. Nothing does that to people.”
Jax shrugged a shoulder, a soft sigh passing between his lips. “Well, whatever it is, it seems we’re on our own for now, sweetheart.” He crossed his arms over his chest before his expression softened. “You thinkin’ about stayin’ here with us? ‘Cause this is probably the safest place in Charming right now. I don't recommend you goin’ off on your own.”
Eyebrows raising in surprise, you hadn’t been expecting an open invitation to actually wait out the insanity here with the Sons. Glancing around the clubhouse, you scanned over the people already here, aware that they all actually mattered to the MC. You’d heard about their lockdowns in the past, how they secured themselves and the people they cared about inside their clubhouse during times when the club was in danger. Apparently this counted as one of those times, but you were just a random nurse Jax had saved in the heat of the moment, not someone any of them personally knew and cared about.
“Are you sure there’s room?” you asked hesitantly, looking back up at Jax from where you sat on the couch. “I don’t want to overstay my welcome or take someone's place.”
“‘Course there’s room for you, darlin’,” Jax assured you easily, a lopsided grin slipping onto his lips despite the seriousness of the situation. “It’d probably be good to have a nurse here in all this shit anyway. Figure we’re probably goin’ to have people gettin’ hurt. And like I said, I don’t think it’s a smart idea just headin’ out there on your own in this anyway. You’re safer with us.”
Nodding your head slowly, a small, tentative smile spread across your lips. “Then yeah,” you answered him. “I'd like to stay and help out while we wait out…whatever is going on out there.”
“Good,” he said with a firm nod. “You’re welcome to crash in my room here, too. Bit more private than out here, might make you feel more comfortable.” When he caught the way your eyes gradually narrowed in suspicion at him, he held up his hands in surrender, a trace of that grin returning. “Just offerin’ you a bed, darlin’. Nothin’ more than that. I’ll probably be busy dealin’ with a lot of shit ‘round here anyway. Someone should at least be gettin’ some decent sleep in it if I can’t.”
“Okay, but where are you planning to sleep when you eventually need to?” you asked him curiously. “Because eventually you'll have to sleep, Jax.”
He made a noncommittal noise like it was the least of his worries, a broad shoulder rising up and down in a shrug. That only had you wondering what more the Sons were planning on doing in all this mess if he figured he'd be that busy.
“Got a couch in my room,” he told you. “I can just crash on that and let you take the bed.”
You were half-tempted to question how easily he'd just given up his own bed to you–a total stranger–but your thoughts had already switched to other things that seemed more important at the moment. There were things you were going to need if you were staying here now for an undetermined length of time.
“There's…also the issue that I have nothing with me,” you awkwardly pointed out.
Waving a bandaged hand at yourself, you saw the way Jax took in the sight of you sitting on the old couch still in your scrubs from the shift you'd finished earlier. His brows furrowed together, a faint crease forming between them as he looked you over. The way his gaze swept over you made your heart beat unevenly in a way that it shouldn't have considering the circumstances, but when his eyes met yours again, you forced yourself to focus on the issue.
“I've got no change of clothes with me,” you stated. “If I could get back to my place for just a quick trip, I could pack some. And I noticed that the first aid kit here is…lacking in comparison to mine.” When he continued to stare at you silently with that hard to read expression, you figured you'd throw in a few more reasons that might get him to see the point. “I've got a bit of food I could bring back, too. Blankets. And if the power goes out, I’ve got flashlights and candles–granted, they're scented. More first aid supplies that could be useful to have here.”
With a heavy sigh, Jax ran a hand through his long hair as he considered what you were getting at. The corners of his lips had fallen from the little grin he'd been wearing a bit ago into something more solemn and serious.
“You sayin’ you wanna go back out there?” he asked skeptically. “For clothes and candles?”
“And food and medical supplies,” you added. “Those might be important if we're dealing with this for a while. People are probably going to get hurt, like you said.”
He glanced over his shoulder, his lips still set in a thin line as he looked around the clubhouse at everyone. He stood in silent contemplation in front of you for a long moment before he returned his attention back down to you sitting on the couch.
“Alright,” he agreed slowly, scratching at the scruff along his chin. “But Juice and I are comin’ with. You're not goin’ out there alone. And it's just a quick trip to your place before we're comin’ right back here. No other stops.”
Pushing yourself up from the couch, you weren't going to argue with those terms. “Trust me, I'm not interested in staying out there for longer than necessary,” you assured him.
“I'll just go talk to Clay first and let him know where we're goin’,” Jax told you, uncrossing his arms and taking a step back. “Then I'll get Juice and we can head out.” He pointed a firm finger at you, his expression serious. “You stay here.”
You nodded in agreement before watching him turn to walk away, catching his mother's eyes on you from her place behind the bar when his broad body was no longer blocking her from view. One of her dark brows arched upwards, her expression carefully neutral as she stared you down from across the room.
But the odd stare down meant to intimidate you was interrupted when a thin blonde in a nurse costume that looked nothing like your scrubs came rushing into the clubhouse in a panic, drawing both yours’ and Gemma’s attention with the way she headed straight for Jax. You watched as he paused at the sound of her calling his name, turning around in confusion at the sight of her. She practically threw herself against Jax, her crying bordering on fake as she clung to him.
“Ima, what the hell are you doin’ here?” Jax questioned her, hands hovering in the air as if he wasn’t sure what to do with them.
“I'm scared, Jax,” she whimpered against his shoulder, pink nails clutching at his kutte. “Haven't you seen the news? I overheard Luann saying this would be the safest place right now. She just shut the studio down in the middle of filming.”
Jax's jaw tightened, one hand finally landing on her shoulder gently. You saw the way he carefully pried her off of himself, his expression making it apparent that he wasn't in the mood to stand there and offer her comfort.
“Just get settled in somewhere then, okay?” he told her. “I'm kinda in the middle of some shit right now.”
She exaggerated a sniffle before looking up at him with a pout on her lips. You had no idea who this woman was, but the audacity of her to be acting like this with everything going on was already getting on your nerves. Clearly she had a thing for Jax–and being overly-dramatic–but this wasn't exactly the time or place for that.
“Can I stay with you?” she asked hopefully. “In your room?”
Jax shook his head at the question, his eyes darting past her briefly to you before they returned to her. “No, I'm already sharing my room with someone else, sweetheart,” he answered simply. “Ask one of the other guys or find some space out here, but I got shit I need to handle.”
Without offering her another word, Jax turned and swaggered his way through the crowd in the clubhouse in search of Clay. When he was out of sight, you saw the girl known as Ima turn around, her pout morphing into a dark glare as it landed on you. Glancing away from her, your attention returned to the news playing on the television as you waited for Jax and Juice.
As if the craziness going on outside wasn't already enough, you had a feeling you'd just unintentionally made an enemy in here.
Summary: With the world around you unrecognizable, you find yourself desperate for something that'll make you forget everything for a while–and you're not the only one.
a/n: We know how Jax deals with stress, so let's be real, this was bound to happen sharing his room! I've also gone back and numbered each installment to help avoid confusion among all the parts, too! Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!
The clubhouse was chillingly silent.
Tucked away in the back of the building, you couldn’t hear anything from the main room where most of the others seeking safety with the Sons slept–not a single snore or shifting fabric of a sleeping bag or blanket. The few other bedrooms down this hallway were also silent–no one moving about and no low voices carrying through the walls. Judging by how dark it was in Jax’s room with only the slightest trickle of moonlight from the single window, you assumed it was late.
Everyone inside the Sons’ clubhouse was asleep except for you.
Though technically Jax was still awake, too. It was his turn to take watch on the roof at the moment, making sure no one–living or otherwise–got too close. But after the power grid finally failed yesterday and caused the complete loss of electricity nation-wide, you had no idea what time it was anymore. With no way to charge your phone which had gone dead awhile ago, you'd lost any way of keeping track of the time or the news. You only knew his shift finished whenever he came back, quietly opening the door and shuffling inside smelling like he’d been chain smoking for hours up there.
Before all of this, the heavy scent of cigarette smoke probably would’ve given you a throbbing headache, but now you’d grown used to it, even finding comfort in the increasingly familiar smell. Especially when you laid awake in his bed these past few nights, hugging his pillow tight as you stared blankly across the room in the darkness. The smell of tobacco, whatever soap Jax used, and the hint of his sweat enveloped you while you laid in his sheets. Under different circumstances, you’d have questioned the cleanliness of them, but now you honestly couldn’t help but feel somewhat soothed by the ghost of his presence lingering in them.
But even with that small hint of him in the room, it wasn’t enough to ease you into finally drifting off to sleep. It wasn't as if you hadn't tried to sleep over the past couple of nights since this whole nightmare had begun–because you had. Having been so exhausted on that first night here with everything that you’d been through, you’d fallen asleep almost immediately after closing your eyes. But your dreams hadn't offered you any relief from reality.
Even asleep, you kept seeing that man tearing into the woman in front of the Save Mart with his teeth before taking multiple rounds of bullets. Or the video of that paramedic having his throat ripped open that had played on repeat on the news before the news stations inevitably went down. But mostly you kept seeing Mrs. Palmer’s deranged face as she attacked you in your bedroom, and you couldn't seem to forget the sickening sound of Jax’s knife sinking into her skull when you’d killed her.
You couldn’t close your eyes without being haunted by that memory. It didn’t matter if, after these past two days and the current state of the world, you’d understood that Jax was right. Mrs. Palmer wasn’t Mrs. Palmer anymore when you’d stabbed her. You knew whatever had infected her had somehow changed her, possibly having killed her before you did. You understood that what you’d done had been in self-defense–for survival. But none of the reasons made you feel any better about what you’d done, and none of them assuaged the guilt that weighed heavy on your conscience. The guilt that had you seeing your elderly neighbor’s face now whenever you briefly closed your eyes.
Jax’s bedroom door softly creaked open, the small sound breaking through the silence and interrupting your thoughts. Your head rose from the pillow, eyes squinting at the flashlight beam that met them as the light temporarily blinded you, making it impossible to distinguish who’d just stepped into the room until they spoke.
“‘S’alright,” Jax’s tired voice rasped. He pointed the flashlight over towards the worn couch in the corner of the room before he shut the door with his other hand. “Just me.”
Relaxing at the sight of him making his way over towards the couch once your eyes readjusted, your head rested back down onto his pillow. Continuing to follow his movements, you watched him turn off the flashlight and set it down on the dresser to conserve the battery.
“Anything going on out there?” you asked.
With the soft moonlight slipping into his room from the window near the dresser, you watched Jax slide the leather kutte off of his shoulders and half-heartedly fold it. Using one hand, he reached over and set the leather beside the flashlight before his ringed fingers grabbed the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and over his head before discarding it on the floor.
Eyes trailing over his lean, muscular body and the tattoo covering the entirety of his back in the faint light, you felt something stir awake at the sight. In the past two days, Ima had been taking every chance she could to steal your place in Jax’s room, and you knew it was because she wanted him. She’d done her best to intimidate you, and she'd even tried to convince Jax to let her stay there instead because she was so terrified–even playing up the dramatic tears to make her fear seem worse than it was.
None of it ever worked, though.
But laying there in his sheets watching him undress in the dark, you knew that you didn't just like staying in his room because you felt safe around him, or because you were more comfortable having a bit of privacy in the clubhouse filled with people you’d slowly been getting to know. You were admittedly attracted to Jax, too. Especially after seeing him in a different light now that everything had gone to shit in the world and he'd been helping you. He wasn't just some dangerous, criminal biker that scared you anymore, he was someone you relied on. Someone who had saved you when he didn't have to, who'd tried to help you make sense of everything when you'd been struggling with the way the world had changed.
“Nah, it's quiet. Nothin’ to worry ‘bout,” he answered your question. His hands began unbuckling his belt before he undid the button of his jeans, his body still facing the couch. “But you should be sleepin’. It’s late.”
Shifting under the blankets, your still-bandaged hands tightened their hold on his pillow, seeking comfort from it. “I can’t really sleep,” you admitted.
In the silver moonlight softly shining onto him, you saw the way his hands hesitated at the waistband of his undone jeans. A frown crossed his lips as his head turned, eyes landing on you from across the room. There was a long pause while he stood there, blue eyes studying you in the dark.
“Bad dreams?” he guessed.
Shrugging a shoulder lightly beneath the sheets, you held his stare. “If I can even manage to sleep.”
Jax's hands slowly fell back to his sides, your eyes following the way he turned towards you. Unable to help yourself with the view right there, your eyes dipped down to the glimpse of his white boxers visible between the open denim before darting back up to meet his stare.
“Because of all the shit goin’ on?” he asked.
“Yeah,” you confessed, trying to focus on the discussion instead of his half-naked body. “And because of Mrs. Palmer. I just…I can’t stop seeing her face. Hearing the sound the knife made when it–”
You broke off on a grimace, your throat feeling tight as that grisly noise resurfaced in your mind. Shaking your head, you tried to shake the memory out.
“I know what would’ve happened if I hadn’t done what I did,” you continued, a tremble in your words. “But she was a nice woman. She baked me pies and plates of cookies. Brought over casseroles when I was working double shifts to make sure I had something to eat. She was always telling me about her grandkids and how they were doing in school. And then I just…”
Your words trailed off as you laid there, fingers tightening around the fabric of his pillowcase. You couldn't keep thinking about how you'd killed that sweet old woman, the endless mental torment was driving you mad.
“She was sick, darlin’,” Jax stated firmly. “I know you're still adjusting to all this shit, I get it. Everyone is. But you can't keep layin’ there losing sleep over it. You did nothin’ wrong. She'd have torn you apart if you hadn't stopped her.”
“I know,” you whispered.
But that didn't ease the guilt.
Jax turned back to the couch, his hands grabbing the waistband of his undone jeans again before he pushed them down his legs and kicked them off to the side. He'd been sleeping on that couch for the past two nights just to give you space in the bed, trying not to make you uncomfortable. But despite only really knowing him for these past two days, space had become the last thing you wanted.
You found yourself craving physical comfort, desperate for something to make you feel better–to feel good. With Jax’s reputation before the world seemingly ended, you figured he might not be opposed to the distraction you'd been increasingly thinking about lately.
“I feel bad taking your bed,” you said softly, changing the subject.
Jax glanced over at you as he settled down onto the couch cushions, his eyes once more landing on you beneath the sheets. “It’s fine, darlin’,” he replied, running a hand down his face in exhaustion. “Couch isn't that bad.”
Teeth sinking into your bottom lip, you could feel the words already about to dance off your tongue, your eyes tracing over his almost naked body in the dim light. You just wanted to forget the state of the world for a little while, and you had a feeling he'd be good at helping you do that.
“You don't have to,” you said, the words carrying weight as they cut through the dark. “Sleep on the couch, I mean.”
His hand fell down to his lap before his head tilted in your direction, trying to understand if you were saying what he thought you were. To make your point more clear, you shifted on the bed beneath the sheets in an obvious attempt to make room for him.
“You…want me to join you?” he asked carefully.
You nodded against the pillow. “Yeah,” you answered. “If you want.”
Jax hesitated on the couch, the air around you both seeming to fill with a bit of tension that hadn't been there a moment ago. His eyes remained on yours in the darkened room, your pulse steadily increasing under the weight of his stare. Eventually coming to a decision, Jax pushed himself up off the couch and sauntered over to the opposite side of the bed wearing just his white boxers. You struggled to keep your gaze above his waist as he reached a hand out, pulling back the sheets and climbing into the bed beside you.
The mattress dipped beneath him, a soft creak of the bed frame breaking the silence. But as soon as he covered himself with the sheets, he rolled onto his side towards you and slid a hand along the mattress. Giving your hip a gentle tug, Jax began to pull you into his warm and solid body.
“C'mere, darlin’,” he gruffly coaxed.
Not needing to be asked twice, you scooted along the bed towards him. Jax's hands pulled you the rest of the way against his bare chest, drawing you in close as one of your arms slipped over his waist in return. Practically melting into him at the contact as he held you, you pressed your face into his firm chest and felt the tension begin to ease from your body. He smelled far better than his pillow, and the gentle motion of his hand stroking up and down your spine over the tank top you'd thrown on before bed had your body sinking further into his.
You weren't sure how long you laid there against his chest, breathing in the scent of him and gradually relaxing with the strength he naturally exuded. Your racing thoughts began to slow in his presence, but they didn't fully disappear like you'd wanted. Sighing softly, you raised your head from where you'd buried it against him, tilting it to meet his gaze in the dark.
Jax's head shifted on his pillow at the movement, his hand leaving its place stroking your back to instead cup your cheek with a sense of familiarity–as if he'd touched you like this before when he hadn't. His thumb swept down from your cheekbone to your bottom lip, the pad of it tracing the plush length of it with a steady back and forth motion. Your breath hitched at the gesture, lips parting against the pad of his thumb as your body naturally reacted to his touch despite everything you'd been through recently.
In truth, you were desperate for connection amongst so much loss and isolation. Longing for something that felt good instead of terrifying, something that felt normal when nothing else did.
“Want me to help you forget everythin’ for a while, darlin’?” he husked through the dark.
“Yes.”
There was no hesitation in your response. You knew what you wanted even if you knew what this would be–just two people in a horrible, hard-to-grasp situation desperately seeking solace. Two people trying to find something worth holding onto for a little bit. This wasn't anything more than a physical need, a way to put the outside world from both of your minds.
Nothing more, nothing less.
Jax's hand slid down from your cheek, trailing it along the length of your neck until he gripped the back of it. He pulled you the rest of the way towards him, guiding your lips to his as your eyes fluttered shut. His mouth was warm when he kissed you, the scratch of his beard against your skin feeling impossibly good. Every thought about anything outside of his room at the clubhouse slipped from your mind almost immediately. Even the faint stinging in your still healing palms started to fade into the background.
Instead, you focused on the taste of him–cigarettes and beer from his time keeping watch on the roof. His hand released your neck, sliding its way down your body before hitching your thigh over his hip, causing you to gasp against his mouth. Unable to help yourself, you ground yourself against him in your cotton shorts, the thin fabric and his boxers the only thing keeping you both apart.
Jax rumbled a noise of satisfaction against your lips in response, his cock stirring to life beneath your increasingly desperate movements. You couldn't fight the faint whimper that fell from your mouth straight into his.
His hand on your upper thigh gripped it harder, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he pressed you more firmly against his growing bulge. When a faint whimper left you, his mouth quickly found yours again, his tongue taking the opportunity to push its way inside. Laying side by side in the bed, your hips hungrily rolled into him, chasing the delicious friction distracting you from everything else. Hand sliding further up his bare back, your nails dug into his solid muscle, holding onto him as his tongue continued its assault on your mouth.
This. This was what you’d needed. All of this, all of him. The way his tongue was lapping hungrily against yours, the way he held you tight against him. It was burning you up from the inside out with so much pleasure you felt lightheaded.
By the time he finally broke away from the kiss, Jax's breath was coming in just as heavy as yours, his chest heaving against you as you continued grinding along his growing erection. Your panties were soaked from how much you'd been rubbing against him over the past few minutes, a growing need you'd never felt before consuming you. In the heat of it all, you didn't care what this meant or didn't mean, all you wanted was Jax.
With impatient hands, you both began tugging at the remaining clothes still covering each other. Jax stripped you of your tank top before removing your shorts and panties, tossing them somewhere over the side of the bed. You pulled off his boxers after, tongue and teeth tasting the expanse of his chest and broad shoulders as you'd undressed him.
Without warning, Jax pushed you onto your back on the bed when you were both completely naked. He kneeled before you, grabbing your calves in his calloused hands before he sharply yanked you forward towards him, dragging you along the sheets. The cold metal of his rings on your skin raised waves of goosebumps along your body as he pulled your legs up, pinning your ankles firmly against his shoulders in his strong grip. The moonlight sneaking into his room cast a faint glow on him as he towered over you on the bed, highlighting a softness that contrasted the rough way he was currently handling you.
His hips leisurely rolled into you, his cock slowly dragging back and forth over the slickness of your folds, coating the length of himself in your arousal. You didn't care that he was taking his time, prolonging this temporary escape from the outside world as he teased you a little more. But when the head of his cock brushed over your clit just right, a quiet little moan slipped out of your lips, your back arching along the bed.
A pleased rumble vibrated in his chest. “Aching for it, aren't you?” his gravely voice teased. “Need me to fuck you ‘til you forget?”
Breath coming in sharp, you nodded along the pillow as you held his stare through half-lidded eyes. This was exactly the thing you needed–just you and him. Warm skin on warm skin. The touch of someone you'd begun to trust.
“Yes,” you breathed out.
Releasing his hold on one of your ankles, Jax reached down and grabbed the base of himself, teasingly circling the thick head around your soaked entrance, a smirk tugging at his lips when you softly cried out. Your hips lifted towards him, the look in your eyes a plea for him to finally push himself inside and make you forget everything including your own name. Jax’s hand paused, the head of him sitting heavy against your wet heat as his eyes drifted towards yours in the dark.
He held your stare for a few heartbeats, something unnamed passing between you both in the silence, before he finally pushed forward into you. The girth of him abruptly took the breath straight from your lungs as he split you, a sharp gasp falling out of you. His hand returned to your ankle, both of them still trapped against his broad shoulders as he sunk fully inside of you in a deep, fluid thrust. Eyelids fluttering, your pussy stretched and tightened, struggling to fit the entirety of him.
“Jax.”
His name fell from your lips like an exhale, filling the stillness of his room. Jax's blunt nails dug sharply into your skin before he drew his hips back, nearly slipping out of you as want darkened his eyes. Looking down at you splayed before him on the bed, he thrust himself forward in another single, sharp snap of his hips. Your eyes rolled partially back at the delicious sting as he hit so deep that pleasure burned up the length of your spine.
“Thatta girl,” he grunted out, beginning to set an unforgiving pace as he slammed into you over and over. “Not gonna think ‘bout anything,” he continued, words gruff between each brutal stroke, “‘cept this fuckin’ dick in your tight little pussy.”
He continued pounding into you, one sharp stroke after another, strands of blonde hair clinging to the sweat beginning to glisten along his forehead. Your teeth gnashed at your bottom lip in an attempt to keep quiet despite his relentless pace, not wanting to wake anyone else in the full clubhouse.
Fingers clawing at the messy sheets of his bed as he kept pumping into you, you attempted to ground yourself with something as he savagely fucked you. He was grunting and growling in a way that had you dizzy, pleasure coiling like a knot low in your stomach.
“Fuckin’ look at you,” he gritted out between his teeth. “Made to take this fuckin’ dick, huh?”
With how he kept pumping himself into you, you could tell that he needed this just as much as you. That he was trying to forget the world and the hell he'd seen out there in the past two days on supply runs with each brutal thrust of his cock, burying himself inside of you like a tormented man. The filthy sound of skin against skin filled his room while you lost yourselves in each other, both of you attempting to escape everything and anything else but this moment and the pleasure within it.
Pairing: Jax Teller x fem!nurse!Reader Word Count: 2.9k [Series Masterlist] [Jax Fic Masterlist]
Warnings/tags: 18+; emotional hurt/comfort, fluff, little bit of sexual content
Summary: With everyone settling into Goose Lake, there's finally hope for a future.
a/n: I can't believe this is the last update for this series! It turned into something far bigger than I initially intended, and I am so so grateful for all of you who've been enjoying this zombie journey over this past month🫶🏻❤️ I changed the initial ending in order to keep this story open for more in the future, though... Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!
Your attention remained on the side of the blue tent, watching as shadows danced along the fabric, the shapes created by the flickering glow of the campfire at the center of the makeshift camp. With Jax gone at some meeting among all the presidents of the different Sons’ charters here at Goose Lake–where you’d all been settling in over the past two days–you’d been unable to drift off to sleep.
After everyone had arrived here the other day, and with how many people were already settled in around the bunker at Goose Lake, it’d certainly been a big change from how things had been in Charming–though not a bad one. Especially since this place, with some work, had given you all hope that it could grow into something more. Somewhere you all could build a future, a place to call home in the aftermath of the outbreak.
When you'd been given a tour of the underground bunker yesterday afternoon, you'd learned that it unfortunately hadn't been built with the intention of housing the more than sixty people who were now beginning to call this place home. But the bunker was still impressive–it was powered by solar panels and boasted running, filtered water from the lake to drink, actual plumbing with showers that had hot water you’d nearly cried when you’d felt, and a fully functioning kitchen large enough to make meals for the entire group staying here. It even had a well stocked pantry filled with nonperishable goods and a small bit of medical supplies.
But since the bunker wasn’t large enough to house everyone inside of it, you’d all been staying in tents or the vans that had been stationed in the clearing of the forest around the bunker. Which meant that you were still sharing a tent and a sleeping bag with Jax–not that you minded. With more than enough Sons from all the various charters, there were plenty of people taking shifts at night to keep everyone safe and protected while they slept outside.
As you continued to stare blankly at the side of the tent, lost in your own thoughts after that long and eventful drive the other day, the sight of a shadow steadily growing larger alongside the wall of it drew your eyes. The sound of heavy footsteps approaching came from just outside of the tent before the zipper of it began to open with a soft noise. The tent flap fell back to reveal a tired Jax as he slipped inside before he turned around, closing the tent after himself carefully. But when he turned back around and stood up, his eyes landed on you. When he realized you were lying there still awake, his expression softened.
“What’re you still doin’ up?” he asked.
You smiled sheepishly back at him, scooting to the side of the sleeping bag to make room for him. “You should already know by now that I can’t sleep without you around,” you answered.
The corner of his lip drew back into a small smile as he shrugged off his kutte, letting it fall to the floor of the tent. His hands reached for the hem of his shirt afterwards, tugging it up and over his head before he tossed it aside. He began undoing the button and zipper of his jeans next, and you shamelessly watched as he undressed and made himself comfortable for sleep.
“You worried ‘bout me?” he asked.
His hands pushed his jeans down his thighs, your eyes following the slow reveal of bare skin and muscle in the soft glow of the distant campfire. But despite Jax standing nearly naked before you, it wasn’t desire that you were feeling as you watched him–not that that wasn’t there. But you felt something far softer steadily filling you as you watched him undress. There'd been an unexplainable tug in your chest, a steadily growing warmth that lingered every time Jax was near over the past few days–something beyond just the sense of comfort and safety you always felt around him.
“I’m always worried about you,” you told him. “But I also just…can’t relax when you’re gone.”
Crouching down, Jax unzipped the sleeping bag and climbed inside of it with you before he zipped it shut and rolled onto his side. Slipping an arm around your waist beneath the fabric, he pulled you completely against the front of himself. A small, half-smile spread over his lips as you snuggled up against his chest, something fond lingering in his gaze as he looked at you.
“Yeah,” he murmured, holding you close to his chest. “Feel the same way. I feel better knowing that you’re safe next to me.”
Sighing softly in contentment, you relaxed into the warmth of Jax’s bare skin beneath the sleeping bag. He'd been busy most of today dealing with important issues now that the Indian Hills and SAMCRO charters were settling into Goose Lake, so you'd spent the day missing him even if you’d found things to keep yourself busy with. But you’d been looking forward to tonight when you knew you'd get him to yourself again, something you’d grown used to over these past few weeks. Though you understood that he had responsibilities now–more than he had when you were all back in Charming.
“So how was that meeting?” you asked, unable to stop your curiosity. “With all the other presidents?”
Jax’s hand began rubbing absently along your lower back, his eyes still fixed on yours as his fingers danced along your skin beneath your shirt. You could feel the tension in his body as you laid beside him, could see the stress hidden in his eyes. He was still struggling to come to terms with what it meant to be SAMCRO's president after Clay’s death. You'd seen him struggling with the weight of it ever since he'd had to put Clay down himself–which you knew also still weighed heavily on his mind.
“They’re thinkin’ about making a council,” Jax answered. “Somethin’ that would run everythin’ around here, made up of just the presidents of each charter. Each one would represent their own people, and our clubs would become advisors to us or somethin’.”
You couldn’t fight back the grin that slipped onto your face at his explanation about the governing of Goose Lake. “How very democratic for a group of anarchists,” you teased.
Jax huffed out a laugh, his tired eyes creasing at the corners. You felt your stomach flutter at the sight, not having seen that light in his eyes much over the past few days with everything he'd been carrying on his shoulders.
“Yeah, yeah,” he replied, dismissing the teasing comment. “But we kinda need some semblance of order out here. With all the people relying on us now, we need to figure some shit out. Jobs for everyone to do ‘round here. Protection runs to put people on. There’s shit that needs to get built to make this place a functioning and safe community–like a wall to keep things out. Houses for everyone to live in, ‘cause these tents won't work forever. Can't get everyone on board to get all that shit done if we're all butting heads.”
“It makes sense,” you agreed. “With how many people are living here, there needs to be rules and structure. I'm not disagreeing with that, I just think it's ironic.”
Jax playfully rolled his eyes at you, his hand still rubbing absently along your lower back. But you saw the way his grin slowly vanished, gradually slipping off of his lips. He was getting lost in his thoughts again, something you'd noticed him doing more and more frequently. With the arm slung over his waist, you gave him a faint squeeze to draw him back to the present.
“What's on your mind, Jax?” you whispered.
He expelled a heavy breath at the question before his hand left its place along your back, coming instead to cup your cheek in the dark. His thumb gently stroked back and forth along your cheekbone as his teeth sunk into his bottom lip. The silence lingered in the tent for a few moments before he finally answered.
“When I made VP all those years ago,” he began, words coming out quietly, “I knew what I was gonna be stepping into when I finally took over the gavel. I'd been prepared for that, y'know? All that shit–running guns and dealing with gangs, cutting deals and making smart moves–I was good at it. But this?”
Jax paused, his throat visibly bobbing in the orange glow of the firelight outside as he swallowed thickly. Your fingers gently trailed up and down his back gently, following the length of his spine as you waited for him to continue.
“I'm not sure how to do this,” he admitted quietly. “Runnin’ all this shit? Having all these people here depending on me to keep them alive? Safe? Fed?”
“It doesn't all fall on just you, Jax,” you reminded him. “You've got plenty of others here making decisions, too. You aren't going to have to make the final call for everything.”
“But what if I can’t do it?” he asked, thumb still running tenderly along your cheek. “What if I ain't cut out for this sorta shit? Because I got no damn idea how to keep a whole community running.”
Offering him a warm smile, you held his stare, catching the nervous edge in it. “You were already doing it back in Charming,” you pointed out. “Taking care of the people who'd come to you guys for help, making big decisions about safety and food. Keeping us all safe. The fact that you even care enough to worry about how good you're going to be at running things here says plenty in itself.”
Jax leaned forward towards you in the sleeping bag, his eyes closing before he nudged his nose against yours. Your own eyes fell shut as you held him a bit tighter, aware that this was Jax opening up to you in a way that he probably didn't do with anyone else. This was him being vulnerable for once–feeling safe enough with you to be this honest and insecure.
“You've got too much faith in me,” he murmured.
“You need more of it in yourself,” you countered. “You're smart, Jax. And you've got a big heart. You're exactly the kind of person a place like this needs to keep things running and to keep everyone safe.”
Jax shifted in the minimal space between you both until his mouth found yours. He kissed you slowly, his lips lingering against yours as if he was absorbing your reassurance from the gentle press of his lips on yours. Your hand made its way up his back, gripping the back of his shoulder as you pulled yourself more firmly against him.
“Don't know how I'd be doin’ this without you,” he whispered, lips brushing yours.
Closing the little space between you both again, you placed another soft kiss against his mouth before you responded. “Then it's a good thing you saved me in the very beginning, because you don't have to do it without me.”
His thumb gently stroked across your cheekbone again, some of the tension in his body beginning to gradually ease as he relaxed beside you. The world may have felt like it ended all those weeks ago–everything you once knew completely altered in the blink of an eye–but this new life still offered hope. It still held moments that you'd never expected, ones that you would never choose to give up.
And it had given you Jax. A man you'd spent years fearing because you didn't really know him, you didn't understand him. Yet you'd seen him risk his own life to save others, you'd seen him step up for the people who mattered to him, and you'd personally been rescued by him–a woman who'd been nothing more than a stranger to him at the time. He owed you nothing, yet he'd saved you at that Save Mart and taken you in, protected you, comforted you, confided in you.
This life might have veered down a vastly different path than the one you’d initially planned for yourself, but that didn't change the fact that you were finding yourself quickly falling for the man laying next to you. That you were looking forward to what future you both might have in this changed world.
“Awfully quiet, baby,” Jax murmured, breaking through your thoughts. “What's gotten you thinkin’ so damn hard?”
A light, breathy laugh fell between your lips at his observation. You weren't quite ready to tell him what you'd begun to realize you were feeling for him just yet, especially since it hadn't quite been two months since you'd met each other, and you were still trying to make sense of those feelings, so you opted to answer with something else.
“You mentioned something about building houses out here,” you began carefully, “and I was wondering if that means I get my own house out here or…?”
Opening your eyes, you caught the smirk just as it slipped onto Jax’s face at the unfinished question left hanging in the tent. His eyes blinked open a few seconds later as he shifted a fraction away so he could look at you.
“You're obviously moving in with me, darlin’,” he stated simply.
“Oh am I?” you teased back, a wide smile stretching across your face. “Jax Teller is going to live with a girl that quick, huh?”
Jax made a face, his smirk melting into a playful grin. “Baby, your ass has been in my goddamn bed every damn night for the past few weeks,” he reminded you. “You practically moved in with me a long fuckin’ time ago.”
Your smile only grew at how casual and comfortable he sounded pointing that out. But the thought of having a house together filled you with that unexplainable warmth you kept feeling around him lately, your heart skipping excitedly at the idea.
“So we're going to have our own house eventually, hmm?” you asked him.
“Yeah,” he answered.
Your leg slipped over his, your smile growing a little devious. “Just you and me?” you whispered.
“Mhmm,” he hummed. “But who knows–”
He leaned in towards you, his teeth sinking into your lower lip and giving a firm tug against it. You shifted against him, something like a throaty, pleased purr vibrating in your throat in response before he released your lip from between his teeth.
“Maybe someday there'll be more than just you and me in it,” he continued, his hand leaving your cheek before it came down with a light smack on your ass. “Might fill it with little versions of us. Especially when that birth control of yours ain't workin’ anymore.”
You pulled back a bit in the sleeping bag, your eyes widening in surprise. Jax chuckled softly in the dim light at your reaction, his hand smoothing itself over your ass.
“Are you…?” you asked, still stunned. “You're talking about kids?”
He shrugged a shoulder casually, that little grin firmly in place on his face. “I dunno,” he answered. “In all honesty? I never thought about ‘em before, and this world ain't exactly that fuckin’ great at the moment. But a few years from now? If this place becomes something more?” His expression softened as his hand paused on your ass, giving it a firm squeeze. “Maybe. ‘Cause I still see you right by my side.”
Ever so slowly, you watched the grin on his mouth shift, quirking into a devilish smirk that you'd gotten far too acquainted with lately. It sent a jolt straight through you, the sleeping bag suddenly feeling a little warmer.
“Besides,” he continued, tone dropping into something low and husky, “someone's gotta repopulate this shithole world now.”
A surprised laugh slipped out of you, your body shaking against his. “How very civic minded of you, Jax,” you joked between laughter.
“What can I say,” he replied, that mischievous glint still in his eyes. “Think you'd make a good mom, and running outta condoms ain't gonna keep my damn hands off of you, baby.”
Before you even knew what'd happened, Jax had rolled over on top of you, both of his arms boxing you in between them as he pinned you beneath himself. His blonde hair hung down towards you as he held your stare, the tips of it tickling your neck as that devilish smirk on his face set your heart racing.
“Does this mean I'm your old lady?” you whispered.
The smirk only grew even wider at the question. “You're goddamn fuckin’ right it does.”
Jax dove forward without hesitation, his mouth landing on yours as he kissed you deeply. His body pressed you down into the sleeping bag as your hands wound their way into the strands of his hair, curling them around your fingers. You felt him press himself against you, showing you exactly what effect you had on him, and you couldn't fight the breathy noise you made against his mouth.
As his hands began to undress you, his mouth refusing to move far from your own, you knew one thing for certain. It had taken the entire world falling apart just to put you both in each other's lives, and you weren’t going to ever take that for granted.
