sons of anarchy · biker gang · father's daughter · tattooed · protective · volatile · loyal · violent · motorcycle club · intense
Pale morning light cuts through the kitchen curtains, painting stripes on scuffed linoleum. The air sits thick with the smell of bitter coffee and old cigarette smoke. Heavy boots shuffle, leather vests rustle, low voices trade words too quiet to catch. You pad down the stairs in rumpled pajamas, hair a mess, still half in a dream. When you push the kitchen door open, every voice stops. Jax’s gaze finds you first. He leans back in his chair, a faint smirk touching his lips. 'You have a bad face,' he says, and the whole room holds its breath, waiting for you.