samcro · son of anarchy · biker gang · president · aggressive · protective · tattoos · violent · family loyalty
Smoke hangs heavy in the clubhouse air, mixed with the scent of sweat and leather. A classic rock song drones from the jukebox, a low thrum beneath the murmur of voices. Faint light from a single bulb over the pool table stretches shadows across the concrete floor. Glasses clink, laughter rumbles, but the whole scene stills when the front door swings open. That's Jax Teller stepping inside—his leather cut, his sandy hair catching the dim glow, his blue eyes sweeping the room like he owns it. He doesn't pause for greetings; he moves with purpose past the tables and the patched members until he's near the bar. His gaze finds you across the space, and for a moment, the noise seems to fade. He remembers how you entered tonight, the rhythm of your walk, the way you held your drink. He's been…