You had always been in love with the lifestyle. Your childhood had been filled with the constant roar of motorcycles and it was only inevitable that you’d end up being a part of the life. Motorcycle clubs had always had a certain stereotype. Big burly men with beards stuffed into leather that was clearly too tight. The Lost Girls were a little different, however. You were the VP of an all female motorcycle club. This life wasn’t cut out for everyone, it was a very specific type of lifestyle that asked for a lot. You must follow without question, trust without proof, and be someone people can depend on, always. But for you, it was everything you’d ever wanted. There’s a certain rush that comes when you flirt with danger. An adrenaline rush that comes with being affiliated with something so notorious and known world wide as the Hells Angels, the Bandidos, or the Sons of Anarchy. There’s a satisfaction that comes with being respected by the citizens or feared by them. There’s the knowing that so many people want to be you, to be where you are, but they never will be. But the thing that made you want it the most was something you had craved your whole life. A bond stronger than that of blood, a dedication to each other’s lives that most people would never understand. Your problems were everyone’s problems, and theirs were yours. It was loyalty, it was a sisterhood, it was a family. You hadn’t been VP for long, a little over a year maybe. But you were good at it. Your president was good too. You were both young, but you were already wise. Older members of the club respected you, both of you, but it hadn’t always been so easy. You had had to fight, to prove your worth, and you weren’t proud of the things you’d done to get to where you are. But your club was everything you were, everything you had left. Your father had been a member of a motorcycle club and both your parents had been killed by a rival gang. Maria Garcia had taken you in and raised you along with her own daughter. Ella was like a sister to you, and Maria hadn’t been pleased when both of you had joined the Lost Girls. She had fled her home years ago, when she found out she was pregnant, and her past had been filled with Club affiliations. She had raised Ella alone before taking you in as well, and despite all your promises to her she was still angry about you both being in the club. The club had a reputation, and despite being the only female MC in the state, you had made your mark. People feared you. They knew not to mess with you. You took what you were owed and nothing could stand in the way of the club getting whatever they wanted. You were notorious.
The wind blew through your hair as you pulled your helmet off. The street was quiet and you leant against your bike as you pulled your cigarettes out of your pocket. You had woken up to a missed call and a text from your President telling you to get to the clubhouse by 10. It was 9.30 now, and her bike wasn’t outside yet. “What’s going on?” You turned and smiled as you saw Scully walking out of the clubhouse. She was an older member of the club, and someone that you turned to when you needed to talk. Smoke left your lips as you exhaled with a shrug and you ran your hand through your hair. “No idea.” You said and stood straight. The sound of bikes roaring down the street caught your attention and you turned as four bikes came into view. You stood with Scully as the bikes stopped in front of your clubhouse and the women got off. Ella was the first to leave her bike and you smiled to her. You had always been close, and now that she was President and you were VP you were even closer. “What’s this about?” You asked her as she approached, her brown hair blowing gently in the breeze. “I dunno. But we’re about to find out.” You followed her gaze and saw her mothers car pull up in front of the clubhouse. “Ma called this?” You asked as you dragged on your cigarette. Ella nodded and sighed. “Says she needs to talk.” You exchanged a look with her and turned to watch the older woman get out of her car. The whole club loved Maria. She was a mother figure to many, and to the older members she was a trusted friend. She had never approved of her daughter being a part of this lifestyle but she had accepted that no matter what she said Ella wouldn’t leave. So she had done what she could do to embrace the club. Everyone respected her, asked her for advice, for comfort, and she loved each of you just as much. The rest of the club arrived and you all entered the clubhouse together. The Lost Girls weren’t a big club, there was only two charters, and the few nomads. Your charter had only 9 members, and a few prospects. But it was enough, and when you were together you were unstoppable.
“Whats going on Ma?” Ella asked as she sat in her seat at the head of the table. It was the three of you in the room, Ella, Maria and yourself. The rest of the club would join once you knew what was going on. Maria sighed and looked at her daughter lovingly. “Its always been you and me, my Ella.” She smiled and turned to you. “Until you came along.” You smiled warmly at the woman who had raised you and you wondered where this was heading. “There’s a reason I wanted you to stay away from this life. But it was naive of me to think I could stop you. Its in your blood.” Ella frowned slightly and looked at her mother. “What do you mean?” Maria sighed again before continuing. “When I found out I was pregnant I ran. Your father never knew. You never asked about your father, and I thank you for that. Its always been painful for me. But its time that you knew.” You exchanged a glance with Ella. “Ella when you were born I gave you your fathers last name. He was a good man, he never deserved not to know you. But I was scared. I had to protect you.” “Ma what are you saying?” Ella asked. She laid her hands on the table and leant towards her mother. “His name was Marcus. Marcus Alvarez. He was a member of a club, the Mayans. I haven’t heard from him since I left that town, he never knew where I went, or why. He still doesn’t know about you. But I got a phone call last night. It wasn’t him, it was from is cousin. But he’s in trouble, and I think he could use your help.” Ella watched her mother carefully before she spoke. “My father was in a club?” She asked quietly. Maria nodded and smiled warmly towards her daughter, as her eyes filed with tears. “Hes the president of the Mayans.” She said. “Thats why your so good at what you do, its in your blood.” Ella smiled before glancing towards you. You nodded your approval and she turned back to her mother. “You want us to help him?” She asked her. Maria smiled and reached out to squeeze her daughters hand. She nodded slowly before speaking. “I want you to know who your father is.” The women smiled to each other and you stood to let the rest of the members in. They took their seats and watched their President carefully. After explaining to them what her mother had said Ella paused to look at you. You nodded reassuringly and she took a deep breath. “So what does this mean?” Ruth asked from across the table. “It means we’re going to Charming, California.”
Something happens at around 92 miles an hour. Thunder-headers drown out all sound, engine vibrations travels at a hearts rate, field of vision funnels into the immediate and suddenly you’re not on the road, you’re in it. A part of it. Traffic, scenery, cops - just cardboard cut outs blowing over as you pass. Thats why I love these long runs. All your problems, all the noise, gone. Nothing else to worry about except whats right in front of you.
You had been riding all day, crossing the country and riding under the Californian sun. The air was warm but as you rode it breezed over your skin, the speed of your bike cooling it down. Your hair blew out behind you from beneath your helmet, swirling in the wind. You loved the long rides. You loved the ache in your legs after a full day of riding, the knots in your hair, the cramps in your hands. The club didn’t get much of a chance to ride these days, at least not for this long, and it had taken you two days of full riding to get to California. You rode at the front of the club,alongside Ella and the rest of the woman rode behind you, followed by the van with the prospects. It had been a big decision, for the entire club to come out here. But things were good back at home. Things with your enemies were calm, for now, and business was good. Maria was going to keep an eye on things and you knew she would call at the first sign of trouble. It was good for the club, to get away for awhile and truthfully you were glad to get out of that town. You loved your club and you loved your life,but things had just been feeling a little.. bland lately. You needed new excitement, new adventures, new trouble. God only knows how much you craved the thrill and dangers of a shootout, as sick as it sounds. You had a good feeling about this run. Things were about to change. The bikes began to slow as the traffic began to grow thicker and you knew you were nearing the town. You smirked beneath your helmet as the shocked faces in the cars blurred past you and you shifted on your bike, holding your head a little higher. The sign on the side of the road confirmed you were close and you scoffed as you read it. ‘Welcome to Charming. Our name says it all.’
Ella signalled towards an empty truck stop and you all followed as she pulled her bike to the side of the road. One by one, the sound of the engines died down as the club parked their bikes and you lifted your helmet off your head. You sat it on the seat of your bike as you swung your leg over your bike and cracked your knuckles while you walked. It felt good to walk out the aches in your legs and you rolled your shoulders. You walked towards Ella. Her helmet sat on the seat behind her and she leant against her bike. Her brown hair blew in the wind and suddenly you were overcome by her beauty. Her large brown eyes were filled with mystery and she could look through you like she knew all your secrets. She was small, and people often underestimated her. They quickly learned their mistake, however. Nobody crosses Ella Alvarez. Her fiery temper was something you had seen much of through the years, and there was only two occasions on which she had argued with you. But every time she would apologise with a plateful of fish pie and beans, your favourite dish. It wasn’t much, and no one else understood it, but to you it meant the world. You were just as fiery, and when the two of you got into a heated argument it was like a raging storm. But before anybody knew what was going on you’d be back to normal, laughing together like nothing had happened. With the two of you at the head of The Lost Girls, things were never boring. You’re reputations had only grown bigger and badder as time had passed and by now the people in your town knew not to mess with you; you would demolish them. “Whats the plan?” You asked her as you pulled your cigarettes out of your pocket. You held them out to her and she shook her head, pulling out her own pack of menthol cigarettes. “Guess we find my father.” She said as she lit her smoke. You blew out and looked over your shoulder as the rest of the club stretched out their legs. “Ma say where to find him?” You asked as you took another drag of your smoke. Ella nodded slowly. You nudged her with your arm. “You down okay?” You asked her quietly. She turned to you and smiled. “Yeah, I’m good.” With a final drag of your cigarette you tossed it to the ground and stepped on it. You turned to Ella and smirked. “C’mon. Lets go find Daddy.”
Maria had told Ella where to find the clubhouse and you had parked your bikes down the street, out of sight. You scanned the street and saw well over a dozen bikes parked in rows on either side of the street. California had always had a reputation for MCs, but you hadn’t been expecting to see this. “So kids,” Scully said as she walked up beside you and Ella. “We walking up there or riding?” You and Ella grinned at each other before turning back to Scully, and you both spoke in sync. “We ride.” The roar of the bikes brought a smirk to you’re face and you revved your engine before pulling into the street behind Ella. It was a short ride to the Mayans clubhouse, but excitement was building between you. You loved seeing the shock on peoples faces when your club pulled up, and they saw that younger all women. The sound of the bikes echoed through the street and your smirk only grew wider as you neared the clubhouse and saw the men emptying into the street. But confusion swept through your mind as you saw a mixture of patches. Ella stopped her bike next to the clubhouse and you pulled in next to her, the rest of the club following suit. And one by one you each swung your legs over your bikes and pulled your helmets off. And, one by one, the mens jaws dropped open. You stepped with Ella onto the pavement and pulled off your riding gloves and tucked them into your pocket. A hispanic man, with a dark moustache stepped forwards, followed by a handsome blonde. They both looked puzzled and you eyed their patches curiously. You knew instantly the hispanic man was Ellas father. You could recognise those eyes anywhere and it seemed they ran in the family. The blonde however, you were more intrigued by. He was breath-taking, and his eyes were bluer than the deepest oceans the bluest skies. He watched you, too, and you suddenly felt vulnerable under his gaze. “Can we help you ladies?” The first man asked and you smirked, nudging Ella with your elbow. She was at a loss for words so you spoke up. “No. But I think we can help you.” You said with a smirk. Both men glanced at each other before turning back towards the two of you with their eyebrows raised. “Im Ella. Ella Alvarez.”
A smile formed your lips as you watched Ella speaking with her father. It was obvious that they were family. They’re features were almost identical and even the way they spoke was similar. You had left them to get to know each other and you were sitting at the bar of the Mayans club house with a beer in your hands. Your club was scattered around the room, some outside, talking with members of the Mayans. The Sons of Anarchy, and the handsome blonde you had learnt was the VP had left after you had turned up. But there was something about those blue eyes that seemed to haunt you. Like you couldn’t get them out of your mind. You sighed and stood, leaving your bottle of beer on the counter and you turned towards the door. A man stepped in your path, his brown eyes looking you up and down with a smirk on his face. “Where you going mami?” You laughed and stepped around him, tapping his shoulder lightly. “Not even in your dreams, ese.” You walked past him and headed to the street. The mayans had offered you rooms to stay in, but you wanted to get your own motel. The rest of the club could stay at the clubhouse, but all you wanted was some peace. Plus, there would be a big party tonight with all three clubs, and you wanted to make sure you’d have a room to stay in that wouldn’t have been used for cheap sex. The air was warm and it breezed through your hair as you walked to your bike. You swung your leg over your bike and sat down before lifting your helmet to your head. The engine roared to life beneath you and you drove off down the street. You drop through the town, saw the locals. They were used to seeing bikers around and they barely gave you a second glance, which you were thankful for. After riding for a while you found a quiet motel on the outside of town and you pulled in. You booked a room and headed straight for the shower. The hot water steamed over your skin and you washed your hair. Your body ached from the long ride but you didn’t mind. It reminded you that you were alive. After spending an hour or so in the shower you stepped out and dried your hair with the towel. It was time to get dressed, and head back to the clubhouse before the party started.
Ella laughed beside you as she lifted another shot another shot to her lips and you smirked as you did the same. Ruth and Scully were seated across the room around a table with the prospects, Paris and Katie and a bunch of Mayans. They had been more than welcoming, and you were glad that Marcus Alvarez had embraced his daughter so warmly. They hadn’t discussed the trouble that his club was in yet, but they knew that whatever it was you would all be willing to help as much as you could. The music was pouring out of the speakers and the place was swarming with patches. Some of the Sons of Anarchy members had arrived, but you hadn’t seen the blond from earlier. You had met a few of the Mayan members, and many if them had peaked quite an interest in you, but you had assured them that they were wasting their time. Abiel, the man that had tried to speak to you before you left still had hopes however and he was still watching you from across the room. You rolled your eyes and headed for the back. There was a small area outside with a few tables and it was quieter out there. The fresh air cleared your mind and you sat on top one of the tables to have a smoke. The stars shone down on you and you gazed up at them as you blew your smoke into the air. “So what brings you to Charming?” You turned and a smile spread over your face as you saw the blond from earlier watching you. You shrugged and let out a cloud of smoke before responding. “My girls got daddy issues.” He laughed lightly and moved closer to you before sitting on top of the table beside you. “So your the VP huh?” He asked you. You nodded and smiled at him. “Guess that makes two of us.” He smirked and licked his lips as he looked at you. “Im Jax.” “(y/n).” You answered and took another drag of your cigarette. Neither of you could deny the chemistry that was flying through the air between you. You had never really been interested in dating, or anything of the sort. You didn’t need a boy to handle your shit, so you’d just take what you needed from them and leave them. But there was something about this guy, and the way he looked at you that made you wonder maybe it was time for a change. You both sat together, talking about your lives. He told you what it was like to be the VP of SAMCRO and you told him what it was like to be the VP of the Lost Girls. You both shared similar views on the directions you wanted your clubs to head in and a bond began to grow between you. His smile was contagious and you couldn’t help but grin like an idiot. For Jax,he hadn’t felt so carefree in a long time. The way you made him laugh was like something he had never felt. It was a laughter he could feel in his lungs, so hard that it took his breath away. The lack of oxygen didn’t matter. All the anguish of the last few years melted away. For a single moment he lost the tightness in his chest he had grown used to feeling. The muscles in his neck relaxed and after all that had occurred in his life, he felt hope. And hope felt good. With hope came the thought that things could turn around, that somehow some one had stepped into his arena as his champion. He felt joy and happiness ride into his life alongside the laughter. And Jax knew, that when the laughter left the joy would stay with him. Something between the two of you was building, and neither of you could deny it. The laughter fell silent between the two of you and you looked at each other. You licked your lips and looked into those eyes, and you felt something inside you move. Suddenly he pressed his lips against yours and you ran your hands through his long blonde hair, holding his face to yours. His kiss was soft and slow, comforting in the way that words would never be. His hand rested on your neck and his thumb caressed your cheek as your breath mingled with his. You ran your hand down his back and pulled him closer until there was no space left between you and you could feel the beating of his heart against your chest. “Jax!” You both ripped apart and looked behind you. A member of SAMCRO stood in the doorway of the clubhouse, his eyes wide with worry. “The Nords took Gemma.”
Request: Weird idea but how about a fic about being Marcus Alvarez old lady and waiting for him to come home after a fight where he got beat up
Tonight you were making Marcus’ favorite dish, Gorditas. You decided to start cooking around 4, so dinner would be ready by the time he gets home. You were listening to some old Hispanic music that your father would play when you would help your mother cook.
You smiled as you remembered your father. It was around 5:30 when you heard Marcus outside.
“Pinche puto.” You heard Marcus outside the kitchen window.
“Ay, what happened?” You opened the back door to see your husband with blood gushing from his head.
“quien te hizo esto?” You started to freak out.
“hijos de la Anarquía” He hissed as he took a kitchen towel to his gash. You sighed knowing it was the ruthless Jax Teller.
“Pos let me help you.” You said, following him into the bathroom.
He sat down on the edge of the bathtub and you started to get out the medical supplies. You started to clean up his cut and you noticed other bruises among his face.
You put a bandage over it and he stopped you from walking away.
“Te amo mi amour.”
“Mhm.” You said and you left the bathroom, continuing to make gorditas.