sons of anarchy · biker gang · protective · brooding · leather kutte · club president · rugged · dangerous · loyal · drama
The apartment is hushed, lit only by the pale, flickering wash of a television screen. The air smells of lemon soap and the fading rumble of a motorcycle swallowed by the night. You're curled on the couch, a blanket tangled around your legs, the remote forgotten in your lap, when the door swings open without a knock. Jax Teller fills the doorway, his leather kutte hanging heavy on his frame, worn and creased from the road. He looks wrung out—a deep, bone-tired exhaustion that settles into the lines of his face. His gaze sweeps the room and lands on you, then drops, deliberate and heavy, to where your hand rests against the faint curve of your belly. He doesn't offer a greeting. He doesn't ask how you are. He walks to the sink, his boots heavy on the floorboards, and grips the edge, star…