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@valiantivy
𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 ⋆𐙚 ̊.
val⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ - sons of anarchy, supernatural, the walking dead, mayans mc & more <𝟑 .ᐟ multifandom sfw & nsfw writer (minors do not interact).
aries, she/her, daughter of cain †, wattpad writer, editor, obsessed with morally gray men, slow burn lover.
requests: currently closed.
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current projects:
miles of heartache (jax teller x oc)
a holy hunger (rick grimes x oc)
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𝔀𝓪𝓽𝓽𝓹𝓪𝓭
𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓯𝓲𝓻𝓼𝓽
Write it badly or it'll never be written
Write it badly or it'll never be written
Write it badly or it'll never be written
Write it badly or it'll never be written
Write it badly or it'll never be written
Please keep interacting with this post because when I come to tumblr to procrastinate, this shows up again in my notifications and guilts me into writing again
the concept of "canon" is fake anyway. if you write a fanfic with better emotional arcs than the original you win. i said what i said
Motel Room
pairing: jax teller x fem!oc (emery hatch)
summary: jax and emery have been on the run for a long time, but after everything that happened, they can't hide their feelings anymore. A forgotten motel, one room and a single bed is all it takes for their restraint to snap.
genre: smut
warnings: MDNI, nsfw, fingering, p in v, use of pet names (baby), praise kink (good girl), emotional sex, nipple play, oc is needy, orgasms, first person pov, jax is kinda dom
word count: 3.6k
time and place: somewhere in Texas
to read jax and em's full story, check out my wattpad
author's note: if you see spelling errors or something, no you didn't
masterlist!
When the light flicks on, I take in the setup.
A narrow dresser.
A bathroom with a bathtub.
One bed.
Jax rubs the back of his neck as he stares at the rough sheets, tired from the long drive.
His steps are heavy and slow as he crosses the room to set the key down on the nightstand.
And yet, when he turns to me, there's no sign of exhaustion on his face.
Only the spark of a restless body.
Our eyes meet in the dim light, the air between us thick like honey, but neither of us moves.
I feel the warmth turning into scorching fire, and it excites me and scares me in equal measure.
The awareness of him hits me all of a sudden.
The dust from the road still on his shirt, the faint smell of leather and smoke clinging to him.
The unmistakable promise in his eyes.
My pulse stutters, sending spikes of electricity down my spine.
"I need some air," I say quickly.
Before he can answer, I turn and step back out into the night.
My hands find the railing as I inhale a deep breath and try to regain control of myself.
The motel parking lot down below is quiet.
The cool air fills my lungs as I turn and rest my lower back against the railing, letting the cold metal seep into my skin.
My heart is beating too fast.
I rub a hand at the center of my chest and turn again, giving my back to the room as I try to calm down.
When the door creaks open, I don't turn around.
I simply listen to Jax's steps scrape softly against the concrete as he steps out.
"You okay?" he asks.
His voice is quieter now.
Careful.
I close my eyes for a brief second and turn to face him, nodding too insistently.
"Yeah," I say, not meeting his stare.
"Just thinking," I brush it off.
He doesn't say anything back, doesn't push...and it's almost worse.
If only he wasn't so perceptive.
Maybe then I wouldn't have to act unaffected all the time.
Finally I glance back at him.
He's leaning his side against the railing, arms crossed loosely over his chest, eyes fixed on me like he's trying to read a language he doesn't quite understand.
"You look like you're about to bolt," he acknowledges.
I chuckle, but it comes out wrong.
"I'm not."
"You sure?"
I can't help but let the corners of my mouth lift faintly.
"You chasing me if I do?" I joke.
Something flickers across his face, but it's not humor.
"Yeah," he says simply.
I go still under his scrutiny as the determination in his voice seeps through my cracks like water.
I break eye contact before I can drown in it.
Running a hand through my hair, I turn away from him once again, staring at the rows of rooms and tiny windows.
The lights coming from the highway move like fireflies in the distance.
I straighten my back and look over my shoulder, meeting Jax's eyes.
He seems changed.
The Jax I know wouldn't hesitate so much.
He wouldn't care about a girl's feelings to the point of doubting himself.
Of all the times he could have been a dick, he chose the worst situation possible to be chivalrous.
"Emery—" he murmurs gently, and my name on his lips cuts the last string pulling me together.
It's instant.
Out of anger and want and need, I reach out and grab the front of his T-shirt before he can finish.
I don't think.
I just crash into him.
Arms winding around his neck, my lips meet with his in pure urgency.
He grunts, surprised for a second, but when his hands shoot around my waist, pulling me impossibly close, he's in this with me.
I can feel it.
Completely.
The world narrows down to the press of our bodies, the rapid thrum of my heart, and the harsh buzz of the motel light overhead.
The kiss is violent in the best way.
Hungry. Reckless. Desperate.
"Em—" he groans against my lips, his voice rough and ragged.
The fire between us, all the frustration, all the nights of tension—every moment we've tried to pretend this could fade—crashes into one explosion.
His fingers dig into my hips, tilting me slightly as I press myself harder against him.
My hands fumble up to his hair, tangling, holding, never letting go.
His touch is feverish, eager in a way I didn't know could be possible.
He returns the kiss just as hungrily, his rough hands moving frantically up and down my body, traveling from my hips to my chest then up into my hair.
Everything in me hums alive, and the overwhelming wave of desire hitting me crackles through the air like static.
All those times I've watched him from afar.
And all those times in the last few weeks when I've wanted to surrender.
It's all worth it.
Even if it might damn the both of us.
When we finally break apart, gasping, our foreheads pressed together, there's no calm in our breathing—just the echo of our kiss.
He swallows hard, voice low and hoarse when he asks me, "are you sur-" but I don't let him finish.
"I'm done waiting," I rush out, my fingers moving to his collar and gripping the fabric of his t-shirt, his scent clouding my senses.
I try to look up at him, show him that I've never meant anything more in my life, but he nuzzles his nose into the side of my neck, hiding from me.
The flutter of his eyelashes closing caresses my skin when he dips his head lower, burrowing into my collarbone as he releases a shattered breath.
For a moment, the pressure of his thumbs on my hips becomes almost painful.
He holds me so tight his rings dig in my skin where my top rides up, leaving marks.
"I'm done," I repeat breathlessly when he goes still against me.
It takes him only a second to pull away from my neck and find my gaze.
Resolve darkens his eyes as he nods vehemently, as if he'd spoken those words himself.
His hands find the small of my back as he presses me flush against him, and in one swift motion he hooks his arm around my waist and lifts me up from the floor, my converse hovering above the concrete as he walks with me.
My fingers meet behind his head as we stumble back toward the motel room.
Our lips meet with fervor again, and when he bites my lower lip before deepening the kiss it sends shots of pure bliss through my entire body.
I hear him push the door open with his back and kick it shut with his foot.
The sharp thud is followed by another one when he pins me against the doorframe.
He swallows the entire room with his presence.
Finally, the restraint is gone.
With my lips glistening, burning against his, I break the kiss to catch my breath and press my forehead against his chest, feeling the rapid thrum of his heartbeat beneath his t-shirt.
It drums against his ribs like the wings of a hummingbird, and it's the most beautiful sound I've ever heard.
He feels this too.
Whatever this is, it clawed its way inside him too.
Except this time, it isn't about fear or want.
It's about giving up.
He tilts his head down, and he lets his lips brush mine again when I look up at him in the dark room—slower this time, almost tasting, almost memorizing.
"God," he mutters, voice low and ragged in the quiet.
I feel him through his jeans when he moves closer to kiss me again, and the peaks of my nipples harden against his chest, a moan leaving my lips before I can stop it.
That single sound is enough to send him over the edge.
Before I can realize it, he grabs one of my thighs and hooks it on his hip, pushing himself harder against my arousal.
His blue eyes pour hot desire into me as his other hand circles around me and rests on my stomach.
Slowly, fingers barely grazing me, his hand travels down.
When it stops just above the center of my pleasure, he cups it and applies the faintest pressure against my shorts.
A satisfied smile blooms on his face when I arch my back into his palm, searching for more.
He doesn't look down at my shorts—his eyes stay on me, watching every reaction.
I rest my head against the door, trying to see through the fog.
A rush of eagerness ripples through my body and my hands leave his shoulders and fly straight to his jeans.
I try to unbuckle his belt, but he catches my wrists and pins both of them above my head, holding them in one firm grip.
"Slow down," he says, voice low as he presses his thumb harder over the denim, exactly where my clit is.
When he sees my jaw clenching in protest, he leaves my wrists to hold the side of my neck, gently stroking the hot skin with his fingers.
"I want to enjoy you," he murmurs before kissing me again.
I lose myself in that moment, unable to put up a fight, and when I feel him slowly unbuttoning my shorts, I release a sharp breath of anticipation.
"Lift your arms for me," he tells me, and I do so in a daze, my heartbeat drumming in my throat as he slowly peels the cami top off me.
It falls on the floor a second before my shorts do.
Left in only my bra and panties, I stand with my back against the door, standing completely still under his scrutiny, eyes wide with desire.
"So beautiful," he whispers, planting a kiss on my neck as he fists my hair so hard it hurts.
The mix of tenderness and roughness is intoxicating, and I instinctively wrap my arms around him as he paints a trail of hot kisses on the sensitive skin, his tongue occasionally sweeping over the delicate parts.
My legs instinctively curl around his waist, and with his mouth still on my neck, he rolls his hips into me, stealing a gasp from me.
His hardness is evident, pressing against his jeans, and he groans when he pulls back from my neck and sees me looking at it with wide eyes.
I lick my lips, my mind filling with sinful thoughts as he grinds again, the friction between my panties and the coarse denim coaxing a wave of pleasure out of me.
He tortures the side of my neck with his tongue, his head dipping low to tease the skin just above my bra as he brushes a thumb over one nipple, enjoying the firm tip under his fingertip.
I imagine it in his mouth, and the thought soaks my folds, already desperate for him.
Reading my reactions, he squeezes my thighs in a choking grip and lifts me up again, carrying me with him toward the bed.
The light covers us both for a moment as we move through a slash of warmth slipping in through the curtain, and it disappears when he stops at the edge of the bed.
Jax doesn't let me go, carelessly dropping me on the mattress.
He slowly lowers himself with me until my back meets the cool sheets.
I sneak my hands under his t-shirt, my palms finding scars and hard, warm muscles, and the fabric disappears in a swift motion.
I enjoy the sight of him in quiet admiration, and something in my expression must betray me, because he gives me one of his grins and tilts his head, coasting his gaze from the lace of my bra to the hem of my black panties with a glint of mischief shining in his eyes.
There's something devilish about him in this moment that makes me want to bend at his will.
To do as he says the instant he demands it.
When he licks his lips, my imagination recalls the feeling of his tongue on my neck, and a pulsating need makes me clench my thighs together, searching for friction.
He grabs my leg and shoves it aside, a storm brewing behind his eyes as he shakes his head in reprimand.
In response, I open my legs even wider, inviting him to take whatever he wants to take.
He lowers himself, one elbow next to my head as his knuckles graze the line of my belly.
"Good girl," he praises as the hand moves down my stomach and slows when it finds my panties.
I follow it with my eyes and stare at the cuts on his knuckles.
The same knuckles that drove into a man's guts, that broke ribs and dislocated jaws just days ago, now glide over my soft skin with the gentlest touch.
He doesn't kiss me, but his lips hover above mine when his fingers push the lace to the side and meet my tender flesh.
I gasp at the contact and he grins in satisfaction.
When he pulls back and his gaze finds me again, it feels delicate and ferocious at the same time as he spreads me open with his fingers.
I try to meet his fingertips with my hips, to chase the sensation, and that's when two of his fingers slowly dip inside of me.
A gasp tears from my lips at the sudden heat and stretch.
I buck against him on instinct, my nails digging into the solid muscle of his shoulders as he starts moving, slow and deliberate, his fingers slick and warm as they explore me.
The drag of each movement makes my breath catch.
The rhythm is agonizing—deep, unhurried, like he's mapping me out piece by piece.
When his thumb finds my aching clit again, pressing, circling, the pressure just right, I lose all sense of control.
I moan against his lips, and his grin widens slightly as he feels me unravel beneath him.
"Look at you, Em," he murmurs, voice low, rough, almost disbelieving.
I wish I could try to understand what he means by that, but I'm too deep in the pleasure to reason.
His fingers curl inside me, and I cry out, the sensation sharp and overwhelming as my hips chase him, desperate, needy.
The motel air feels thick, heavy against my skin as heat coils tighter and tighter in my core.
Just when I think this couldn't feel any better, he changes speed, and the blissful high of those slow caresses becomes unrelenting.
He pumps his fingers inside of my wet folds with furious determination, and I can't help but cry out in pleasure at the contrast.
If the lazy, sensual rhythm had made me ache with need, now the brutal pace has all of the hair on my body standing up and my mind reach the clouds.
I muffle a choked moan as a shiver shakes through my body, making me reach the peak of my pleasure.
White hot light melts my insides, stars shining on the motel ceiling as I chase every single jolt of bliss with shameless hunger.
Jax doesn't stop.
He meets every single thrust with deep, merciless pumps.
I blink through that dark pleasure.
When he comes into focus again, he's watching me with a heat that could burn down a forest.
As I come down from my high, he slows his movements until his fingers stop moving, still buried in me.
"Are you okay?" he asks as I feel the slickness pour out of me.
Am I okay?
I feel like laughing.
I'd never had a man take care of my needs the way he just did without demanding to be the priority of the act.
I guess okay doesn't even begin to cover it.
My past boyfriends were selfish, and the few hookups I tried to have in the past never ended up being satisfying or rewarding but always short-lived and disappointing.
But this...
This is what it should always feel like.
"Yeah," I try to say, swallowing through the lingering pleasure.
"Are you sure?" he taunts, his fingers moving just enough to make me gasp, my skin still sensitive.
"Mmhm," I breathe out, barely nodding.
He replies with a smirk as he leaves the warmth of my slit, making me wince and immediately miss him.
And yet, while the ecstatic feeling still ripples through me in golden shocks, the need between my thighs still throbs.
I want him.
All of him.
This time when I reach for his belt, he doesn't stop me.
His jeans fall on the floor before he reaches around and unclips my bra.
When he gets up to get rid of his clothes, he leans down and slides my soaked panties down my legs, keeping his eyes on me the whole time.
He crawls over me again and grabs me by the hips to slide me up until my head finds the pillow.
I like the way he handles me, the way he maneuvers my body like it's an extension of his own.
A part of me always wanted that.
To let go, have someone else take the reins for once.
And Jax...he's so eager for the job.
Exposed skin encounters calloused hands as I peek down at his naked body.
My pulse quickens at the sight of him, mind foggy with desire as my gaze finds his face again.
I kiss him, lips swollen, and our tongues meet in a filthy dance as he bites, sucks, and savors.
An aching need pulses inside of me, and I let my legs fall open, pushing his back down with the heel of my foot.
He drops his weight on me, and the moment his cock finds the heat of my folds a shattered breath caresses my lips.
There's no hesitation left. No space between wanting and doing.
Just heat. Movement. Need.
"Fuck," he moans, his forehead resting against mine as I guide him up and down my wetness with my hips, coating him in me.
I press myself against him, my nipples flushed to his chest.
I can't help but smile in satisfaction when he closes his eyes, losing his composure.
He thrusts, meeting my movements, and when I find his gaze, all patience has drained from his face, replaced by the most sinful of looks.
Darkness flashes in his eyes, and in a snap of a second, my wrists are pinned above my head again, one hand holding both of them as the other pinches one of my nipples hard.
Pain and pleasure mix, making me whimper, my back arching into it.
When he moves down and takes my other nipple in his mouth, his cock still grinding against me, I moan, overwhelmed by every single lap at my flushed skin and every single roll of his hips.
"Jax," I sob, my patience pushed beyond any limits.
His tongue slows on my nipple and his head lifts.
"Yes, baby?" he asks, voice husky, thicker than honey.
"Please," I whisper, my cheeks burning when he doesn't stop moving, but instead watches me as his blunt head teases my entrance.
I turn my head, the sight of him studying me as I beg too much to bear, but he grabs my chin a moment later, forcing me to look at him.
"You want my cock?" he asks, not teasingly or mockingly, but possessively.
Pain spreads across my jaw where he holds it and my neck bobs as I swallow hard.
"Yes," I breathe out, closing my eyes as the pressure around my entrance grows.
I hear the faint rip of foil as that pressure disappears for a moment, and when I open my eyes, the heat of his body envelopes me again.
"Then take it, baby."
I can't even process those words because his head slowly starts pushing inside my entrance, stretching my walls and molding me to him.
"That's it, Em. Nice and slow," he murmurs.
I choke in surprise at the fullness, my body wrapping around his shaft in a painfully blissful grip.
Wild with need, I forget to wait and give myself time to adjust to his size, and I arch into him.
He groans in pleasure, surprised by the sudden movement.
He watches me as he slowly starts moving, and when I close my eyes, the pleasure and the fullness becoming too much, he grabs my chin hard again.
"Eyes on me," he says softly, but he pairs that soft command with a vicious thrust that slams into me and leaves me breathless.
Pleasure bursts into me like thousands of fireworks as he chooses the most tortured rhythm.
His pace starts out deep and brutally merciless, and before I can even process the change it becomes deliciously punishing.
My nails dig into his back, scratching the skin raw.
The headboard slams against the wall, mixing with my moans and his groans.
My eyes fill with tears as Jax coaxes every single breath out of me with every thrust.
I never knew sex could feel like this.
So rough and painful and yet so heavenly.
And through it all, he keeps his eyes on me.
Never looking away.
Afraid to miss the littlest thing.
All the self-control is gone, replaced by a red desire that transcends my body and his.
It has nothing to do with this bed and this mattress and this motel and everything to do with everything that brought us here.
There's meaning in those eyes.
Intention.
Recognition.
"Em..." he breathes, like it slips out before he can stop it.
That does something to me I can't explain.
His grip tightens at my hips, guiding me as he moves with me.
My breath catches when his groin brushes against my clit, and I cling to him instantly, overwhelmed by the feeling of him everywhere at once.
It builds fast—too fast—and I feel it pulling me under again, stronger than before.
My nails dig into his back, in the ink of his tattoo, holding on as my body convulses.
"Jax—" I cry out.
He hears it instantly.
His pace tightens, the mattress squeaking under us as my tremors become too much.
I feel him shudder just as my walls spasm around him, and he twitches inside of me with a groan as I moan, following every wave of his pleasure with one of my own.
We drown together, high on the same drug.
The euphoria is so intense time seems to slow down, lingering on this moment for longer.
Disheveled and flushed, he stays inside of me as I go boneless under him.
I don't know how much time passes before we move. I just know that when I open my eyes again, he has rolled us over, and I'm lying on top of him, weak and full of him.
My head rests on his chest, eyelids heavy.
Spent, he runs a hand through my hair, tingles spreading from the contact.
When he's forced to pull out, he doesn't turn away.
He pulls me in with him, covers us with the sheets and continues playing with my hair.
I'm half asleep when I hear him say something to me just before I drift off.
But I can't make it out because I'm already dreaming.
the team is chasing the sickest murderers to ever live meanwhile these two on the phone sexually harassing each other
underrated criminal minds duo
It's just a ride, sweetheart.
pairing: russell baze x fem!reader
summary: you shouldn’t get into trucks with men you barely know. but the party is too loud, the night too long, and when russell offers you a ride, it feels easier to say yes. after all, it’s just a ride, right?
genre: fluff with tension
warnings: age gap, alcohol mention / drinking, mild sexual tension
word count: 2.2k
time and place: party at a friend's house, post-prison russell
The party hadn’t started out as boring.
In fact, you were glad you had accepted your friend’s invite when she mentioned it to you at work a week prior.
The town offered very little for people your age when it came to having fun, and a house party meant a night off from the dull routine you seemed to have fallen into.
Still, after three hours of standing, engaging in conversation, and trying to avoid the same drunk guys who had been hitting on you for years now, you felt tired.
The music you had been dancing to half an hour ago now felt too loud, and the makeup you had applied so carefully before leaving was beginning to itch.
As your friend left to go get a refill, you tried to pretend to enjoy yourself, but really, you just wanted out.
Glancing around, you realized no one seemed to be paying attention to you, and after five minutes of internal debate, you had enough alcohol in your system to opt for an Irish goodbye.
Outside, the night was cool, quiet compared to the chaos inside.
You crunched your red cup in your hand and threw it in the trash bag propped on your friend’s porch.
Streetlights cast long shadows over the cracked pavement as you fixed your purse on your shoulder and stepped onto the sidewalk.
You hadn’t exactly planned to walk home alone.
You had hoped one of your friends would give you a ride back, eventually.
But everyone you knew was still at the party, and the town was safe enough to walk alone at night.
Besides, it was a lovely evening.
The humming of crickets and the call of a distant owl mixed beautifully with the stars glittering above your head.
The warmth left behind by the summer sun still wrapped around your skin, making the gentle breeze a welcome sensation.
The street was empty, but in a town like yours, it didn’t feel lonely.
It felt comforting.
Sometimes, a part of you still yearned for the thrills of the city, but there was something about a forgotten place that lured you in.
While your friends, all in their twenties, talked about leaving and following their dreams, you fantasized about becoming part of the scenery.
Disappearing into the background of old factories and dirt roads.
You lifted your gaze to check the street before crossing, more out of habit than necessity, when the distant sound of a car caught your attention.
You turned on instinct and saw a pair of headlights cutting sharply into the night.
Crossing the road while the car was still far away, you reached the sidewalk and glanced down at your boots, careful not to trip on the pothole you had become accustomed to over the years.
Drunk you had scraped her knees on that spot more times than you’d care to admit.
Walking ahead, you tried not to pay attention to the car behind you, but when you noticed the vehicle had slowed, you couldn’t help but turn your head a little.
The purring of the engine hummed in the air as you side-eyed the headlights, and when the familiar sound of a car window rolling down reached your ear, you turned fully toward it.
A brown pickup had stopped on the side of the road, right where you stood.
It looked old but cared for.
Dirty but not rusted.
Before you knew it, your eyes found their way inside the vehicle and landed on the driver.
“A little late for a walk, isn’t it?”
The voice, deep and rough around the edges, resonated with you like the start of an old song you hadn’t listened to in a while.
Russell Baze.
You leaned closer despite your better judgment and met his familiar brown eyes.
There were few people in town who didn’t know Russell Baze.
Whether from rumors about his troubled younger brother or through the news about the accident he had been involved in a few years back, people knew of him without ever meeting him.
You didn’t exactly fall into that category.
To you, Russell had always been the reserved guy sitting in the diner you worked at.
The polite nod in a laundromat.
There was a time when you didn’t just enjoy running into him.
You kind of hoped for it.
Like most women, you had fallen victim to his charming kindness and quiet virility.
But that was before the accident.
Before he went to prison.
“A little late for a drive,” you replied, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.
His gaze narrowed, the lines of time around his eyes crinkling.
He looked older than you remembered.
More tired.
But somehow, still handsome.
Still tough.
“What are you doing out here so late?” he asked, forearms resting on the steering wheel as he leaned forward.
You glanced back toward your friend’s house and shrugged.
“I just left a party,” you told him.
He took in your white sundress and the soft waves cascading over your chest.
“Mmhm,” he acknowledged, his gaze finding yours again.
“Where’s your car?” he asked.
“Didn’t take it.”
He shook his head disapprovingly and glanced ahead for a moment.
“You shouldn’t be walking out here alone,” he pointed out.
He didn’t sound overbearing; he simply sounded concerned, and you liked that difference in tone.
It felt refreshing.
“I don’t live that far,” you reassured him.
He ran a hand through his brown hair, giving you a brief view of his neck tattoo.
It contrasted against his sun-kissed skin.
His gaze flicked down the road behind you, like he was checking if anyone else had followed you out.
“Do you need a ride?” he asked then, his voice breathy in the quiet of the night.
You couldn’t help but purse your lips at the offer.
Getting into trucks with men you barely knew was a bad idea.
No matter the circumstances.
But this was Russell.
Hardworking, respectful Russell.
Out of all the men who could have stopped you, you couldn’t have wished for a better candidate.
Your first instinct was to politely decline.
And yet, you hesitated.
Glancing ahead, you tried to reconcile the tiredness in your bones with the blocks between you and your house.
You couldn’t.
As if sensing your indecisiveness, he leaned back into his seat and shrugged.
“It’s just a ride, sweetheart,” he told you.
You looked back at him, something warm swirling in your chest at the pet name, and met his eyes.
Feeling certain and a little rebellious, you nodded and attempted a smile at him.
“Okay. Thank you,” you said.
He gave you a nod and leaned over to unlock the passenger door for you.
You clutched your purse and got in, settling into the passenger seat and enjoying the feeling of worn leather against your skin.
“Sorry for the mess,” he apologized, shoving a toolbox into the back before pulling back onto the road.
You glanced at the street ahead and inhaled the scent filling the air.
Metal, motor oil, and something unique and masculine that lingered around Russell.
You allowed yourself a look at him.
He was wearing a dark blue T-shirt and jeans, nothing particularly fancy, but the way the fabric clung to his biceps and the way the denim wrapped around his strong thighs made you swallow a rush of heat.
Life hadn’t been kind to him, but time definitely had.
“I live on Lancaster,” you told him.
He nodded and took a left turn.
The truck hummed steadily beneath you, the old engine vibrating softly through the floorboards as Russell drove through the dim streets.
You watched the passing houses through the windshield.
Most of them were dark now, their windows black and silent, the town settling into sleep.
“You have fun at the party?” he asked finally, his voice breaking the silence.
You let out a small breath through your nose.
“For the first hour,” you admitted.
That earned a curious smile from him.
“Then what happened?”
“Same thing that always happens,” you said. “Too many drunk guys. Same conversations I’ve had a hundred times.”
“Yeah, that sounds like a good enough reason to leave early,” he said.
“What about you?” you asked. “Where were you headed?”
He shrugged slightly, eyes still fixed on the road.
“Rodney used to go to those things,” he admitted after a brief pause. “Figured I’d see if he was around.”
The mention of his brother softened something in his expression, but only for a second.
“He’s not,” you said gently.
“Yeah,” he replied quietly. “I know.”
There was an underlying concern in his voice that made you feel for him.
“You still working at the diner?” he asked after a moment.
You blinked at him in surprise.
“You remember that?”
“Yeah.”
The simple answer made something warm bloom quietly in your chest.
“Yeah,” you said softly. “Still there.”
He nodded again, thoughtful.
“I stop by sometimes after work.”
“I know,” you replied before you could stop yourself.
Your answer earned you an amused smile.
For half a second, your eyes met, and something charged filled the space between you two, warming your cheeks.
After a night spent talking to tipsy guys about the most meaningless things, having a normal conversation with someone felt good.
Vulnerable, but good.
“You always sit in the corner,” you found yourself recalling.
He looked almost embarrassed by that.
“Habit.”
You studied him for a second before speaking again.
“I wasn’t sure if you remembered me,” you admitted.
You normally wouldn’t have been so blunt, but the alcohol had made you more candid.
More yourself, in a way.
Russell’s eyes shifted toward you briefly before returning to the road.
“I remember.”
The way he said it was simple.
Certain.
Your stomach flipped slightly at the quiet confidence in his voice.
When he stopped at a red light, you bit your lip and studied the way the red glow painted over his features.
You didn’t expect him to turn and look at you, but he did.
You inhaled slowly, trying to steady the flutter in your chest as a gentle breeze rolled through the open window.
You felt it brush against your legs.
When you glanced down, you noticed your dress had ridden higher than intended.
The cotton barely covered your thighs.
Heat flooded your face as your gaze lifted again—and caught Russell already looking.
Not at your face.
At your legs.
Your thighs were pressed together, hands clenched in your lap as you pushed the hem of your dress down.
His jaw tightened.
Heat spread through you like molten steel, goosebumps rising along your arms.
You suddenly felt exposed.
But underneath that embarrassment was something else.
Something warmer.
Something dangerous.
Desire.
Russell’s grip tightened around the steering wheel.
The dirt packed into his knuckles after a day at the mill stood in stark contrast to the clean hands of the last guy who had tried talking to you at the party.
When his eyes flicked up and noticed the chills running along your arms, he blinked like he was shaking off a thought he shouldn’t be having.
He glanced toward the back seat.
Reaching behind him, he grabbed something and held it out to you.
You took it without thinking.
His flannel jacket.
“Put this on,” he said, clearing his throat.
His voice sounded rougher than before.
“It gets cold this time of night.”
You smoothed a hand over the jacket and nodded absently, the image of his hot gaze still shining in your mind.
You didn’t feel cold, but you wore the jacket anyway.
It smelled like him.
You thanked him quietly, and a muscle in his jaw tightened as he noticed the way his jacket hugged your body.
He seemed on the brink of saying something, but the green light shone on your faces like a reminder.
Slowly, he returned his attention to the road.
The rest of the drive was quiet.
When the truck slowed as he turned onto Lancaster Street, the familiar row of houses came into view beneath the dim glow of the streetlights.
Your heart sank a little at the sight.
The ride had been short.
Too short.
“That one?” Russell asked, nodding toward the small house halfway down the block.
You followed his gaze and nodded.
“Yeah.”
He pulled up to the curb and shifted the truck into park.
The engine rumbled, filling the quiet space between you both.
You reached for the door handle, but hesitated.
Something in you didn’t want the moment to end just yet.
“Thanks for the ride,” you said softly.
Russell nodded once.
“No problem.”
“Wait—your jacket,” you said, starting to slide it off your shoulders.
He stopped you with a wave of his hand.
“Keep it.”
“But—”
“You work tomorrow?” he asked, taking you by surprise.
“Afternoon shift,” you confirmed.
“Then you can give it back to me then.”
The implication in his tone wasn’t lost on you, and you clung to that tiny promise as if it was the most precious of secrets.
Before you could say something stupid, you pushed the door open, stepping down onto the pavement.
But Russell spoke again.
“Hey.”
You leaned slightly back toward the truck.
“Yeah?”
“No more walking alone at night, okay, sweetheart?”
You smiled faintly.
“Promise.”
For a moment, neither of you moved.
Then you closed the door.
The truck stayed there for a few seconds after you started toward your porch.
Long enough for you to feel his eyes on your back.
Long enough that when you reached the door and glanced over your shoulder, Russell was still there.
Watching.
for more content, check out my wattpad.
ALYSSA'S MASTERLIST....
⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ CRIMINAL MINDS
ᯓ the newest resident- spencer reid (one shot)
⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ THE PITT
ᯓ coming soon....
⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ STRANGER THINGS
ᯓ coming soon....
feel free to request ⋆˚࿔
𓈒ིུ ׄ݁ ᩙ ❤︎ lace dividers ‧̥˚̩̩̥͙ ✧
Get to know me!!!!
Hi, my name is Mikey. I am soon to be 16 on the 18th of march.
I enjoy writing fanfics, and reading them. I mainly make fanfics for sons of anarchy.
my favourite soa characters are:
Juice ortiz
Tig Trager
Happy Lowman
Herman Kozik
Venus
Ocs !!
my babies are JJ and Meadow… stinky lee aswell…
i LOVE editing, my favourite show atm is the oc, and book is boys of tommen.
idk why i made tumblr but im here so hiii!!!
i will probably post snippets of scenes on here, and sneak peaks of fic ideas.
𝓕𝓪𝓷𝓯𝓲𝓬 𝓕𝓪𝓿𝓸𝓻𝓲𝓽𝓮𝓼 ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡
a few fics that live in my head rent-free: ♡
✶ safety net — by maydecays ↳ aaron hotchner, the man you are, the kind of fic that makes me giggle and kick my feet
✶ russian roulette — by maydecays ↳ a new one, but jax teller and lizzie hale's tension keeps me up at night
✶ broken halos — by ssaturnsstars ↳ also a new one but juniper and jax are going to be the death of me
✶ sewn together — by ssaturnsstars ↳ pure perfection, best friends to lovers in the best way, jax and andrea have my heart
✶ born to ride — by luvvvvrrrrkayyy ↳ best friends to lovers I KNOW that's right, jax teller in this book is pure bliss
✶ miles of heartache — by bunnymaben ↳ literally love this book, emery and jax's chemistry is too good
✶ a holy hunger — by bunnymaben ↳ a new fic, but rick grimes and april I already know are gonna send me into orbit
✶ call my name — by Nilaaberryy ↳ matt and will are literal babies, such a fun read
anyway these all mean a lot to me so if you read any of them please come talk to me about them because i will happily scream about them forever ♡
TWO FEATURES?!?!? I LOVE HOPE.
𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓯𝓲𝓻𝓼𝓽 ⋆.𐙚 ̊
☆ my works may contain violence, dark themes, sexual content / mature situations, strong language, trauma / heavy emotional topics. All chapters will be tagged appropriately, but please read responsibly.
☆ some content may be 18+. If you are under 18, please do not interact with explicit posts.
☆ hate, harassment, or discourse fishing will be deleted / blocked.
☆ do not repost, copy or translate my work without my permission.
☆ writing about topics such as violence, crime, toxic relationships, or other dark material does not mean I support or condone these actions in real life.
☆ along with standalone one-shots, I may post bonus scenes, alternate moments, or small snippets connected to my stories on wattpad.
☆ my posting schedule is not consistent. I write and post when I have the time or inspiration, so updates may be irregular.
𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 ⋆.𐙚 ̊
──── ୨୧ ────
♡ 𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐲
𝔧𝔞𝔵 𝔱𝔢𝔩𝔩𝔢𝔯 ✘
𝓜𝓸𝓽𝓮𝓵 𝓡𝓸𝓸𝓶 : jax and emery have been on the run for a long time, but after everything that happened, they can't hide their feelings anymore. A forgotten motel, one room and a single bed is all it takes for their restraint to snap. (smut)
──── ୨୧ ────
♡ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐝
𝔯𝔦𝔠𝔨 𝔤𝔯𝔦𝔪𝔢𝔰 ✘
to be added ・・・・・
──── ୨୧ ────
♡ 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐥
𝔡𝔢𝔞𝔫 𝔴𝔦𝔫𝔠𝔥𝔢𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯 ✘
to be added ・・・・・
──── ୨୧ ────
♡ 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐜𝐞
𝔯𝔲𝔰𝔰𝔢𝔩𝔩 𝔟𝔞𝔷𝔢 ✘
- 𝐼𝓉’𝓈 𝒿𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝒶 𝓇𝒾𝒹𝑒, 𝓈𝓌𝑒𝑒𝓉𝒽𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓉 : you shouldn’t get into trucks with men you barely know. but the party is too loud, the night too long, and when russell offers you a ride, it feels easier to say yes. after all, it’s just a ride, right?
──── ୨୧ ────
