#tig trager soa

[mysticalmallard]

With their drunk girlfriend

Finally finished I have been working on this on and off for a few days as work has been really busy. I hope you guys enjoy it I am not sure what topic the next group drabble will be so let me know what you guys wanna see next ♥︎

SoA Taglist: @arkytiorlecter @aimkatsz @ravennaortiz @darqchilddaydreamz @mischiefnevermanaged89-blog @hatersaremymotivators @theshynerdsworld

♥︎ If you wish to be added or removed from this taglist comment or message me ♥︎

SoA Masterlist 🌸 Main Masterlist

Chibs

Chibs looked across at his girlfriend as she laughed loudly at something one of club hangarounds had said. It was easy to see that she was thoroughly drunk, as she stumbled about and slurred her words. He watched her with a mixture of amusement and affection, shaking his head at how adorable she was when she got wasted.

As the night progressed, Chibs kept a watchful eye on her, making sure she didn't do anything stupid or get into any trouble. He even stepped in when some drunk guy tried to flirt with her.

By the time the club party came to an end, his girlfriend was stumbling around bumping into things. Chibs chuckled and steadied her, slinging her arm around his shoulders to support her.

"Come on, lass, you're wasted," he said, leading her towards the exit. She giggled and leaned heavily against him, her legs apparently made of jelly.

"I'm not drunk," she protested, slurring her words. "I'm just... a little impaired."

"Uh-huh, sure you are," Chibs said, humoring her. "Just hold on tight, okay?"

He guided her to the parking lot where his bike was parked. He helped her on to the back seat, making sure she was sitting securely. As he straddled the bike, she wrapped her arms drunkenly around his waist and rested her chin on his shoulder.

"Mmm, you smell good," she mumbled, nuzzling her face against his neck. "Like... leather and... and... danger."

Chibs chuckled and shook his head, starting up the engine. "And you smell like beer and trouble, lass."

The ride back to her house was slow and careful. Chibs kept a steady pace, mindful of the inebriated passenger clinging to him like a koala. She kept giggling and commenting on how fun it was to be on the motorcycle, her words a slightly slurred mess.

When they finally arrived at her house, Chibs dismounted and helped her off the bike. She stumbled a bit, but he caught her, holding her against his chest.

"We're here, love," Chibs said, a fond smile tugging at his lips. "You made it in one piece."

She looked up at him with glassy eyes, her face flushed from the alcohol and the wind. "I had the best night ever," she declared, grinning goofily.

He chuckled and shook his head again. "I'm glad you had fun, but you're going to have a hell of a headache in the morning."

He led her up to her porch, his arm around her waist to keep her steady. She leaned on him heavily, her steps uneven.

Once they got to her front door, he pulled her keys from her purse and slowly unlocked the door. He steered her inside, flicking on the lights as they entered the quiet house.

He helped her to the couch and sat her down. She immediately flopped onto the cushions, a contented sigh escaping her lips.

Chibs looked down at her, a mixture of amusement and concern on his face. "Stay there, okay? I'm gonna get you some water."

He disappeared into the kitchen, leaving her on the couch. He rummaged through the fridge, finding a bottle of water. When he returned to the living room, she was already fast asleep, her body sprawled across the cushions.

Chibs couldn't help but smile at the sight of her asleep. He knelt down next to the couch, taking a moment to study her face. She looked so peaceful, a stark contrast to the wild laughter and stumbling from earlier.

He carefully placed the water bottle on the table, then reached out and brushed a strand of hair away from her eyes.

He sat down on the edge of the coffee table, his gaze never leaving her. He knew he should probably leave her to sleep off the alcohol, but part of him didn't want to go. He liked being near her like this, watching her chest rise and fall with each breath.

After a few moments, he let out a soft sigh. Reluctantly, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. "Sweet dreams, love," he whispered, his voice barely above a murmur.

He stood up, giving her one last glance before reluctantly turning away. He switched off the lights as he left, shutting the front door behind him quietly.

Happy

Happy sat on the couch in his dimly lit apartment, holding a glass of whiskey, his eyes fixed on his girlfriend who was currently stumbling around, giggling to herself. She was clearly drunk, and had been for a while.

"Hey there, princess," he called out, setting his glass down on the table. "You need to sit down and rest before you fall down."

His girlfriend looked at him, her eyes half-lidded and glassy, a wide smile spreading across her face. "I'm fiiiine," she slurred, taking an exaggerated step forward, nearly tripping over her own feet. "I can totally walk."

Happy chuckled softly, shaking his head. "I've seen more coordination from a newborn deer," he said, standing up to approach her. "Come on, sit down before you hurt yourself."

His girlfriend pouted but didn't protest as he gently took her by the elbow and led her to the couch. She flopped down onto the cushions with a heavy sigh, looking up at him with a grin that was equal parts cute and ridiculous. "You worry too much," she said, waving a hand dismissively.

Happy sat down next to her, shaking his head again with a slight smile. "Maybe," he admitted, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her close. "But someone's got to keep an eye on you when you get like this."

His girlfriend snuggled into him, resting her head on his chest and letting out a content sigh. "You're so comfy," she mumbled, her words slightly slurred. "Like a big ol' teddy bear."

Happy chuckled again, gently running his fingers through her hair. "That's me," he said, his tone both dry and affectionate. "Big Bad Biker Teddy Bear."

His girlfriend giggled, nuzzling her face against his chest. "Mmm, I love your chest," she said, her hand slowly snaking down to rest just above his belt buckle. "It's so... hard and muscley."

Happy raised an eyebrow, a devilish grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Is that so?" he said, his voice dropping a note lower. He gently took her hand in his, preventing her from moving it any lower. "You're very handsy when you're drunk."

His girlfriend pouted again, trying to pull her hand free, but Happy held it fast. "I'm always handsy with you," she whined, looking up at him with puppy-dog eyes. "Don't you like it when I touch you?"

Happy's grip on her hand tightened just a bit, enjoying the game. "I never said I didn't like it," he said, his voice a low rumble. "But you seem a bit too wasted to be playing those kinds of games right now."

His girlfriend huffed, looking for all the world like a petulant child being denied a treat. "I'm not that drunk," she protested, wriggling a bit in his lap.

"look I'll prove it" she said holding a hand up going to touch her nose with her pointer finger but misses completely.

Happy couldn't help but laugh at her failed attempt. "Yeah, you're definitely wasted," he said, amused. "If you can't even touch your own nose without missing, I think it's safe to say you're done for the night."

His girlfriend stuck her tongue out at him, a childish gesture made even cuter by her inebriated state. "You're no fun," she muttered, resting her head back against his chest. "You never let me have any fun."

Happy chuckled again, resuming his stroking of her hair. "Trust me, princess," he said, his voice dropping back to a deeper, huskier tone, "We can have plenty of fun when you're sober. And you'll remember it the next morning."

His girlfriend nuzzled against his chest again, her eyelids drooping as the alcohol began to pull her towards sleep. "Promise?" she mumbled, her hand once again trying to snake back towards his lap.

Happy gently moved her hand away again, though he couldn't help but smile at her persistence. "I promise," he said, his voice soft. "You get some rest, and we'll pick this up in the morning when you're not seeing double."

Jax

Jax glanced over at his girlfriend, who was slumped against his side, her eyes half-lidded and a goofy smile on her lips. She'd had a few too many drinks and was now completely wrecked. He couldn't help but chuckle seeing her like this.

"All right, come here," he said, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her closer to him. He could feel her body sway slightly, her head lolling against his shoulder.

"Yurrrr so strong," she slurred, giggling.Jax rolled his eyes, his lips curling into a small grin.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm a big, strong man," he teased, gently patting her on the head. "Let's get you to bed, yeah? You're completely hammered."

He carefully helped her to her feet, keeping a tight grip on her as she wobbled. "Come on, babe. You're not walking anywhere like this." He guided her towards his dorm, one arm wrapped around her waist to keep her steady.

Once they were in the room, he sat her down on the edge of the bed with a soft thump, then knelt down in front of her to take off her shoes. "You're a real light-weight, you know that?" he teased as he slid them off her feet, setting them aside.

"Am NOT," she tried to protest, but the words didn't quite come out right. She wobbled again, nearly toppling forward before Jax caught her.

"Whoa, whoa, easy there. Don't go falling over now." He gently pushed her down onto the bed, helping her get comfortable amongst the pillows and blankets. He sat down on the bed next to her, watching her with a mixture of fondness and amusement.

She let out a contented sigh as she settled, her eyes fluttering closed. She mumbled something incoherent, and Jax couldn't help but laugh, shaking his head in amusement. He leaned down, brushing the hair away from her face before pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. "Get some sleep, babe."

He sat there for a moment, listening to the sound of her soft, even breaths as she started to drift off. He knew she'd be out for the night, and he'd have to look after her in the morning when she woke up with a killer hangover. But for now, she was safe and sound in his bed, and that was all that mattered.

Opie

Opie returns home late one night after a long day to find his girlfriend already on the couch in the house, a bottle of beer in her hand and a flush to her cheeks. He can already assume she is drunk and he has to bite back a smirk, knowing the kind of trouble you get into when she is inebriated.

As soon as she hears him enter, she jumps to her feet, almost toppling over, but just about saving herself by grabbing the back of the couch. “O-Opie,” she stutters, a goofy smile on her face. “You're home.”

“Yeah, I’m home,” he replies, unable to hide the amusement in his voice as he takes in the state of you. “And you’re a little drunk, aren’t you?”

"No....I have only had to beers" she whined frowning at the 2 bottles on the table.

Opie chuckles when he spots the bottles realizing she found the super stong home brew he got as a gift from Bobby. “Those ain't beer, baby,” he says, shaking his head and folding his arms across his chest. “That's Bobby's 'special brew'. It would get most people drunk within minutes. How are you feeling?”

"I'm totally fine," she mumbles, her words slurred as she tries to lean against the couch but misses and almost falls to the ground if it wasn't for Opie's lightening reflexes. He quickly catches her before she hits the floor and pulls her body up against his chest.

"Yeah, you're definitely not fine," he murmurs, holding her close to him. He can't help but feel amused by how adorable she is when she's drunk. "You're gonna have a hell of a headache in the morning, baby."

She groans and buries her face in his chest, wrapping her arms around his waist. “I feel funny,” she mumbled. “And spinny.”

Opie laughs softly and holds her closer against him, his arms wrapped tightly around her as he tries to steady her. “That’s because you’re drunk, sweetheart,” he says gently, running his hand up and down her back. “Just lean against me, okay?”

She nods and sighs contently as she leans against him more, burying her face in his chest once again. “You smell good, Opie,” she mumbles, her words still slurred and her breath warm against his chest.

He chuckles softly at her drunken compliment and tightens his arms around her, holding her even closer against him. “And you smell like a distillery,” he teases, his voice filled with affection.

She groans again and pouts up at him, her lips in a cute little frown. “You’re mean,” she sulks, her bottom lip sticking out in a pout. “You’re not supposed to be mean to me when I’m drunk, you’re supposed to be nice and tell me I’m pretty and buy me chicken nuggets.”

Opie grins, amused by her drunken requests. "You want chicken nuggets?" he teases, lifting an eyebrow. "At this hour?"

She nods enthusiastically, practically bouncing on the spot in her excitement. "Yes! I'm starving," she whines, her eyes wide and pleading. "Please, Opie, I want chicken nuggets. Please please please."

He laughs, unable to resist her adorable drunken plea. "Alright, alright," he says, letting out an exaggerated sigh. "I'll get your chicken nuggets, baby. But you have to promise me one thing."

She nods eagerly, her focus solely on the promise of food. "Anything," she slurs, looking up at him with wide, innocent eyes.

He grins down at her, amused by her eagerness. "You gotta promise not to throw up on me, okay?" he teases, gently poking her on the nose with his index finger.

Juice

Juice leans against the doorframe, watching his girlfriend stumble around, completely intoxicated. She's laughing and swaying attempting to dance, clearly not in full control of her actions.

"How much did you drink, baby?" he asks, stepping closer.

"Dunno," she slurs, grinning sloppily at him. "A lot."

Juice chuckles, shaking his head.He moves in and scoops her up, pulling her into his arms with ease. She's lightweight to him, and he easily supports her against his chest.

"Let's get you to bed, you're wasted." he says, carrying her towards the bedroom.She giggles uncontrollably, burying her face in the crook of his neck as he carries her. She's making these little hiccup sounds that would be cute if not for the fact that they're coming from a drunk woman.

Juice sets her down on the bed, carefully arranging her head on a pillow. She's still giggling and murmuring incoherent words, clearly oblivious to the world around her.

"You're a mess," he says, rolling his eyes but there's a hint of fondness in his voice. He pulls off her shoes and lays a blanket over her.

She's attempting to say something but it's coming out as garbled nonsense. He leans closer to try and make out her words but they're not making any sense.

"Shhh," he soothes, smoothing a hand over her hair. "Just sleep it off."

He settles down on the edge of the bed, watching her as she fidgets and mutters to herself, her eyes fluttering shut and then opening again. She keeps reaching out for him, her hand flailing in the air as if trying to grab hold of something.

He can't help but chuckle at her antics, despite the situation. He reaches out and takes her hand in his, giving it a squeeze to reassure her.

She mumbles something that sounds like his name, her fingers wrapping around his.

"Yeah, it's me," he replies, his voice soft. He continues sitting there, holding her hand and stroking her hair until her breathing becomes steady, signalling she's fallen asleep.

He sits there for a few more minutes, quietly watching her. She looks so peaceful now that she's asleep, a complete contrast to the stumbling mess she was just a while ago.

Slowly, carefully so as not to wake her, he gets up and turns off the bedroom light, leaving the door slightly ajar so he can hear her if she needs him.

He goes to the kitchen filling a bottle with water and ice taking it back into the bedroom leaving it by her side going into the bathroom to find some painkillers.

He comes back into the room, carrying a couple of painkillers. He sets them down on the bedside table, making sure they're within reach for when she wakes up.

He looks down at her sleeping form, contemplating waking her up to give her the medicine, but decides against it. She's in deep sleep, and he doesn't want to disturb her. Instead, he pulls up a chair and sits down to keep an eye on her, just in case she wakes up and needs anything.

Herman

Kozik and his girlfriend had spent the evening at a party hosted by the club. As the night went on, his girlfriend had indulged in a few too many drinks, while he had remained relatively sober.

As the party began to wind down, Kozik noticed that his girlfriend had become quite drunk. She was stumbling around, struggling to speak clearly, and seemed on the verge of passing out.

Seeing her in this state, Kozik knew he couldn't leave her on her own. He made his way over to her, gently placing his arm around her to help her stand steady.

"Hey, sweetie," he said, his voice soft and caring. "I think it's time to get you home."

His girlfriend protested, insisting that she was fine and wanted to stay at the party longer. But Kozik gently but firmly shook his head.

"No, babe," he said, guiding her towards the door. "You've had a little too much to drink. We need to get you home and into bed."

His girlfriend groaned, but she was too drunk to put up much of a fight. Kozik led her out of the party and helped her into the passenger seat of her car.

As he buckled her seatbelt, he could see that she was struggling to keep her eyes open.

"Just hang in there," he said, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze. "We're almost home."

The drive was quiet, with his girlfriend dozing off in the passenger seat. Kozik kept his eyes focused on the road, his hand occasionally reaching over to pat her leg reassuringly.

When they finally arrived at her house, he helped her out of the car and guided her up the driveway. She stumbled on the way to the front door, but he was there to catch her, holding her steady against him.

Inside, Kozik helped his girlfriend into bed, pulling the blankets up around her and making sure she was comfortable. She mumbled something about wanting to stay awake and chat, but her eyes were already shutting.

Kozik chuckled softly, sitting down beside her on the bed. He brushed the hair back from her face and tucked the covers in around her.

"It's time to sleep," he said gently. "You'll feel better in the morning. I'll be right here."

His girlfriend nodded sleepily, her eyes closed now. Kozik stayed by her side, watching her breathing even out as she fell asleep. He leaned back against the headboard, content to keep watch over her until morning.

As the night went on, Kozik found his mind drifting. He thought about the party they had just left, his brothers back at the club, and the life they lived. But throughout it all, his thoughts kept returning to the woman asleep beside him.

He knew he was lucky to have her. She was feisty, spirited and beautiful. And she was all his.

Tig

Tig was watching his girlfriend's every movement from a safe distance. Not because he was worried, but because watching his girlfriend when slightly hammered was always fun. She always let her inner self shine when she's had a few drinks. She's not as shy and reserved when she's like that.

Right now she was giggling up a storm with some of the guys from the club. Her cheeks were a rosy shade and her eyes were bright. A little smile played on his lips as he took another long sip from his beer.

He chuckled to himself, watching as his girlfriend stumbled on her own two feet. She reached out and grabbed onto the nearest person to steady herself, who just so happened to not be him. His smile disappeared into a slight frown, and he took a few steps closer.

He quickly intervened and wrapped an arm around her, steadying her. He kept a tight grip, not too tight but tight enough to keep her from toppling over. "You okay there, sweetheart?" Tig asked, his voice holding a touch of amusement.

She looked up at him, her eyes bright and her cheeks flushed with alcohol. A huge smile graced her face and she let out a small giggle. "TIGGY!! I'm good, just got a little dizzy." She replied, leaning a little closer to him, clearly tipsy.

Tig chuckled and instinctively tightened his arm around her. "Yeah, I can tell. You should slow down on the drinks, doll." He teased, looking down at her with a mixture of affection and mild concern.

"I'm fine, really. I can handle my boooze." She stated, trying to sound firm, but the slur in her voice gave her away. She stumbled again and Tig quickly caught her again, pulling her closer against him to keep her steady.

Tig rolled his eyes, a smirk playing on his lips. "Yeah, you're doing a real good job handling your booze right now.." he replied sarcastically. He let out a chuckle, his hand gently rubbing her back, soothingly.

She pouted and smacked his chest playfully. "Shut up, I'm not even that drunk." She retorted, her voice still a little slurred. "I had like, three beers and a shot then another one...Oh then Bobby made a toast so i had another few. I can handle that."

Tig raised an eyebrow, his smirk growing wider. "Oh thats all, huh?" He teased, his tone laced with amusement. "Yeah, sweetheart, that sounds mighty reasonable for a lightweight like you."

She huffed in mock annoyance, but couldn't help the grin that tugged at the corners of her lips. "I am not a lightweight." She argued, but her unsteadiness and rosy cheeks said otherwise.Tig couldn't help but chuckle at her denial. He continued to hold her close, enjoying the feeling of her warmth pressed against him. "Right, sure you're not. That's why you can barely stand up straight on your own."

"I can stand just fine, thank you very much!" She retorted, her drunken confidence taking over. She tried to step away from him to spin in a circle and prove her point, but she stumbles again, wobbling on her feet.

Tig quickly wrapped an arm around her again and pulled her back towards him. He chuckled, now finding her attempts to prove her point even more amusing. "Yeah, you're a regular ballerina on those feet, darlin'."

She went quiet too quiet. And has a weird look on her face

"Ah shit" Tig groans and quickly scooped her up with practiced ease, knowing what was about to happen. "Looks like it's a one-way ticket to the porcelain throne for you, sweetheart." He joked as he started to rush her towards the nearest bathroom.

Once they reached the bathroom, he gently set her down in front of the toilet just in time before she started to retch into it. He knelt down beside her, holding back her hair as she emptied her stomach. Tig winced in sympathy as he heard her getting sick.

"There you go, get it all out, doll." He comforted, rubbing her back soothingly. He was thankful that the bathroom was mostly empty, and he knew the guys would keep other people out.

Once she was done, she slumped against him, weak and shaky. Tig pulled her onto his lap, holding her close and letting her rest her head against his chest. He gently stroked her hair, trying to soothe her. "You're gonna be feeling like hell tomorrow, baby." He said with a playful hint of amusement. He knew she was in for a rough morning, but he was also secretly enjoying having her so dependent on him for awhile.

[bullet-prooflove]

Bonnie: Tig Trager x Reader

Tagging: @mortal--soul @yourwinchesterbros @chaoticqueenie98 @purrrrfect @wakeama @buddinglinguist @spookyboogyuniverse @nessamc @theeyesofthestag @thanossexual @anime-weeb-4-life @redpoodlern @ravencrow83 @nu1freakshow @the-wandering-lunatic @lexondeck @adaydreamaway08 @just-a-girl-who-wrytes @ankhmutes @keyweegirlie @crimeshowjunkie @theplacewhereallthedemonsgo @poppyrose33 @belovedbastardremus @lora21 @trublu2u @thebaileybugle @spngingerbread21 @tragerlover @yvette22 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @crazy4chickennuggets @kmc1989 @oureternalbond @multiflixshelves @luvvstvrkeyy

Crazy, Fucked Up Love Arc:

Crazy, Fucked Up Kind of Love - Tig discovers your secret.

Not Leaving: - Tig tells you he's not leaving.

Show You - Tig shows you how beautiful you really are.

Welcome Home (NSFW) - You welcome Tig home in a very special way.

You’re reading when Tig comes home. You hear him talking in that low, soothing tone of his, the one he usually reserves for the baby. You put your palm upon your stomach before inclining your head towards the door.

You see the dog before you see him, a white Pitbull with a limp. The poor thing looks like it’s been through the ringer, a little battered and bruised around the edges. Your heart aches as you take in the sight of her.

“Here you go girl.” Tig murmurs, a dog bed tucked underneath his arm. He releases the lead, and the dog comes slinking towards you, it’s eyes downcast as you hold out your palm for it to scent.

“Who is this beautiful baby?” You ask, laughing as the dog’s cold nose tickles your hand. You stroke your palm over the top of the dog’s head.

“This is Bonnie.” He says setting the dog bed down before he comes to sit on the couch. “Chibs named her bonnie lass when he was patching her up. It kinda stuck.”

He’s gentle with the dog, his fingers scratching at the space behind Bonnie’s ears before he places a kiss upon on the top of her head. He has a big heart, your man, he’s soft underneath the rings and the leather.

“What happened to her?” You ask as Bonnie’s tail starts to wag.

“Dog fighting.” He tells you, his voice a little rough as his gaze fixates on Bonnie. “It was fucking horrible.”

“Poor Bonnie.” You say quietly, cradling that gorgeous little face between your hands. The dog’s tongue lolls out her mouth and you smile as she snuffles you with doggie kisses.

“I know now is not the right time, with the baby on the way…”

“No, it’s perfect.” You tell him because already you’re so in love with Bonnie. “We’re growing our family and this little lady needs a home.”

“Christ, I love you.” Tig says, his arm wrapping around your shoulders and drawing you close. His lips brush over your temple before he nuzzles into you, his palm coming to rest upon your baby bump. “You’ve given me so much.”

Already his lips are beginning to wander, his heated kisses blessing your sensitive skin.

“Let me give a little something back.” He whispers as his teeth graze that naughty little spot just underneath the curve of your jaw, the one that makes your breathing turn ragged.

“Tig…” You whimper, your fingers threading through his hair. “The dog.”

“Right, right.” He murmurs as he buries his face into the curve of your throat, drinking in the scent of your arousal. “Let’s take this to the bedroom, let Bonnie get settled in here.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[speakviolence]

Is he dead? Because, I don't do dead.

Sons of Anarchy, 05x05

[fanficimagery]

Violent Little Thing

To the Sons of Anarchy, you're just Happy's neighbor that doesn't care for drama or the fact that they wear kuttes. But in actuality, you've dealt and probably have done far worse, and it isn't until you're kidnapped that they find out your secret.

Author's Note: Long time no see, huh? Does this mean I'm back? Hell no. This has been sitting in my drafts since mid-2023 and thought it was time to go out. For never having seen more than a few episodes, I love these SOA boys. I'm not super familiar with the lingo or clubhouse etiquette, so this is gonna take place away from that particular setting. Trigger warning for graphic violence and attempted sexual assault (it doesn't get far). Reader is gonna be a little… off the rails. Blame all the dark romance I've been reading lmao.

Before moving into your new home, you knew it was going to be a fixer upper. Fortunately for you, you loved working with your hands, and after having been banished to Charming in hopes of calming your inner demons, you were going to have a lot of time to do just that. But the joke was on your family because there was no calming your demons. People just needed to learn to not piss you the fuck off.

When you get to the house, however, you see that a majority of the work has already been done for you. The only thing left for you to do is paint the walls, rearrange furniture, and unbox your belongings. The electricity and water are already turned on, and wifi has been installed with your password on a sticky note.

The master bedroom is huge and you love it, but you don't have nearly enough belongings to fill it. Your queen-sized bed looks tiny and you immediately want something bigger. So heading back outside to your vehicle, you grab your bag that has your laptop inside and head back in. Setting up at your kitchen island, you search for a place that will deliver any type of food and beverage. You find a pizzeria just on the outskirts of town that will deliver to Charming, so you place a quick order. It's a forty minute wait period, so to pass the time you start looking up bedroom ideas.

You run across a California king bed, but none really catch your eye. What does catch your eye, however, are the DIY beds that touch from one side of the wall to the other. You take your laptop back to your bedroom so see if it's do-able, and come to the conclusion that it is. You'll have to add some floating shelves since you won't be able to have bedside tables, but that's perfectly fine with you. You then take the time to get down the measurements of your room because you still have to situate your dresser and mount your TV to the wall, and you need to make sure everything will fit.

Eventually your food gets there and, sitting at the kitchen island, you dig in. You slowly eat and drink your fill, and then place any leftovers in the already cool refrigerator.

Needing some bathroom necessities and sheets for your current bed, you unload your vehicle. You place each box in their respective rooms, but leave them mostly boxed up. And not wanting to get any TV's mounted or bed fully put together since you still have to paint the walls, you remain on your laptop to pass the time and send messages to your family to let them know you're okay.

It takes you a couple of weeks to build your bed frame, get in your special ordered mattress, and paint the walls to your liking. You do most of your building in the driveway, so you've become accustomed to the people living on your street, waving at them as they pass or call out a greeting. But there's one individual everyone seems to steer clear of or avoid eye contact with, and that's your next door neighbor who rides a motorcycle and proudly wears a Sons of Anarchy kutte.

You had first seen the intimidating, bald man when he showed up a couple days after you moved in. You'd looked up when you heard the rumblings of engines and watched two motorcycles pull into the driveway next door. You paused hammering for a moment, nodded at the two men who took a moment to stare back, and then went back to work.

Over the next few days, men came and went from next door. And each time, they were intrigued watching you work. But eventually your bed frame was finished and you had to situate it in your bedroom. Maneuvering the mattress was no easy feat, but you were not about to ask for help, and it didn't take you long to finally finish furnishing your home to your liking.

As busy as you've been, you haven't really had the time to eat a home cooked meal. So after everything, you took a trip to the grocery store and bought hundreds of dollars of food and drink to stock your kitchen with.

The air is finally cool and crisp, so all the windows to your home are wide open. You'd been feeling a little restless, so you opted to cook a meal that would keep you busy. Enchiladas, rice, and beans is one of your favorite meals, so after making sure you have everything, you put a pot of beans to cook. They have to cook for a few hours, so while that's going on you get online to check in with your family.

When the beans are done, you get started on browning hamburger meat. Setting a majority of the meat aside, you use only a bit for the enchilada sauce. You pour in water, flour, spices, and some canned chili until it's to your liking, and then heat up some corn tortillas before you start rolling the enchiladas. After they're in a pan that holds far too many for only you, you pour the enchilada sauce on top before shredding some cheese atop of it. Once that's in the oven, you get started on a pan of rice.

It's when the rice is boiling that your doorbell rings. A little tired and more than a little hungry, you grab up your beer after turning off the rice, and take a swig of it on your way to the door. Since the door is wide open, you can easily see who's standing just on the other side of the screen door. It's one of the Sons, one of the only two with brown skin that you've seen so far. But this isn't the intimidating bald one, this is the one with a shaved mohawk down the center of his head and a killer smile.

You arch an eyebrow at him as he tucks his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and you take another swig of beer as you lean against the door jamb. "Yes?"

The corner of his eyes crinkle as his smile widens. "Hi. Uh, me and my boys are chilling next door and we couldn't help but smell whatever it is you're eating. You mind sharing the name of the place where you picked up your food from so we can go get some too? Smells really good."

Your lips twitch. "Who said I picked anything up?"

"You cooking?" His eyes widen. "Bullshit."

You huff a laugh and nod. "YN."

"Juice."

"Mhmm." You push the door open just enough so you can lean out and peer next door, catching sight of two men sitting sideways on the seats of their bike. "Just you three?"

"Yeah."

You hum again and then back into your home as the screen door shuts quietly. "I've been watching you guys come and go, nodding cordially when our gazes clash," you say. "If you're willing to leave your shoes by the front door, you're more than welcome to pull up a seat at the table."

"Forreal?"

"Sure." You shrug. "I never learned how to cook for one, so I might have made an entire tray of enchiladas that will most likely go to waste if someone else doesn't eat them."

"Oh hell yeah." Juice turns, cupping his hands around his mouth as he says, "Yo! Free meal! Get over here!"

You watch as one man eagerly gets off his bike, whooping in delight of free food. The other, the one you believe actually lives next door, casually gets up at a leisurely pace. You push open the screen door as they're stomping up your porch steps, and Juice introduces you to Tig and Happy. You do your best not to smile because Happy does not look quite so happy, but he grunts a greeting when you tell them your name.

As Juice steps into your home, he's quick to kick off his shoes and tell his boys to do the same. They do and then you lead the way to the kitchen, pointing at your table. "Siéntate."

"Ohhh. A Spanish lady," Tig muses as Juice translates for him to sit down as you instructed. When you glance at him, his wild-crazed gaze makes you snort. "I like 'em a little spicy."

"And I like 'em less talkative." Happy and Juice both snort, and Tig beams at your sassy retort. "Beer or soda?"

Tig and Happy take beers, and Juice takes a soda. You serve them each their own plate of three enchiladas, a scoop of rice, and a scoop of beans. You serve yourself last with a glass of water, and finally take a seat to dig into all your hard work.

"Goddamn," Tig grumbles after his first bite of everything. "This is some Mexican restaurant level shit here."

You grin as you eat at your own pace, feeling content at watching three grown men finding your cooking delicious.

"So what's your story?" Juice asks. "In all the times I've come around, it's just you here."

"That's because it is just me here."

"Why Charming?"

You take a moment to swallow your food, washing it all down with a sip of water as you lean back in your chair. Then glancing between each man and the patches on their kuttes, you ask, "Do you want the real story or the story I'm feeding anyone who asks in polite small talk when they see a new face in the store?"

All three men slow their eating, their gazes sliding up to you in surprise.

"What's the story you tellin' the locals?" Tig asks.

Placing a hand over your heart and changing your voice so you sound like a southern belle, you say, "Just that I just left a very nasty relationship and my family thought I deserved a fresh start away from the man who dared lift a fist in my direction."

Tig snorts. "And the real story?"

You chuckle as your voice goes back to normal. "My family thought I needed to calm my inner demons, so they banished me to Charming. Joke's on them, I've made peace with my demons. It's not my fault people keep pissing me off."

Tig and Juice laugh as Happy smirks at you.

"What'd you do to earn banishment?" Juice wonders.

You shrug. "I wasn't joking about the nasty relationship. I just leave out the small detail that once I was out of the hospital, I went crawling back to my dickhead of an ex-fiancé and plotted my revenge."

"Crazy and you can cook. Marry me," Tig says.

You shake your head at him, eating a bit more before finishing the story. "I was raised to take no shit from anyone. So after he put me in the hospital, I made him believe all was well. Then one night, when he least suspected it, I slipped him a little something so he was conscious, but paralyzed, and set fire to his house."

The three men freeze, but you continue eating as if it was no big deal.

"Did you- did you kill him?" Juice warily asks.

"Unfortunately, no." You pout and then laugh at their awed expressions. "He had nosy neighbors so they were able to get the firetrucks there as soon as they smelled smoke. But when my family found out, they said I was sloppy, so I got shipped out here."

"Yoo.. what the fuck?" A moment of quiet ensues and then Juice is laughing. "That has to be the craziest shit I've heard in a while."

"I highly doubt that." Your gaze drops to the patch on his kutte. "I'm sure you've heard, seen, or taken part of some pretty crazy shit." When you meet his gaze again, you smirk. "Am I wrong?"

Juice grins and then looks at Happy. "Your neighbor is cool as shit. I'm kind of jealous." The air of amusement lingers as everyone continues to eat. "So what do you do for work?"

"I do some IT stuff for my family." You shrug. "I can work from anywhere, so I guess I'll still be doing that. What about you boys? What do you do other than ride?"

"We work at Teller Automotive," Tig says. "Only car garage in town."

"Really? Do you guys have any openings this week? I need my oil changed."

"Sure. We'll leave a number before we leave."

The rest of dinner is spent with the men telling you what there is to do in Charming and asking how long you plan on staying. You're not really sure, but if you end up liking Charming then you have no issues setting down roots. And then when dinner is done and you've seemed to exhaust all the small talk topics, you plate up the leftovers and send the men on their way.

Over the next couple of weeks, you befriend your neighbor. You take your vehicle into Teller Automotive and Happy takes it upon himself to take care of it for you. Tig and Juice had kept you company, and introduced you to a few of their other brothers when they took interest in their new friend. You were invited to one of their parties and, after some pressuring, you went. Nothing shocked you, not even a few members of the club getting head in plain sight, but Happy apparently shocked everyone else by gluing himself to your side. According to the club President, Happy was normally found in the ring outside or fucking his way through croweaters, but that night he made sure that no one bothered you.

Then more often than not, Happy reaped the benefits of your cooking and appeared for dinner before taking leftovers home for lunch.

In such a short period of time, you grow accustomed to the stern biker's company.

One morning, you're startled awake by the doorbell ringing and a fist pounding on the door. You sit up and scoot out of bed, hurrying towards your front door in a groggy, yet panicked state. But before you pull the door open, you peer out one of the thin windows on one side of your door. It takes a moment for you to realize it's Happy and that the sky behind him is still dark.

Unlocking the door, you pull it open. "What the fuck, Hap? What's going on?"

With a duffel bag hanging off his shoulder, Happy looks you up and down. "You always answer the door like this or am I just special?"

You freeze and then glance down, rolling your eyes when you remember you went to sleep in a gray wife beater, that makes it very obvious you're not wearing a bra, and a pair of hipster underwear. "Neither. You're lucky."

"Sure." You narrow your eyes at him and he smirks. "I forgot the bills were due and everything got shut off. Can I crash here until I get it sorted?"

Without missing a beat, you say, "Yeah," and step back from the door, opening it wider. "Shoes off. You know where the bathroom is and I'm pretty sure you can find the guest bedroom." You yawn and lock the door behind your friend. "What time is it?"

"Little after five."

"Happy," you whine. "S'too fuckin' early. M'going back to bed." As you pad back to your room, you don't hear any footsteps behind you. "Stop staring at my ass!"

"Can't help it. Might start dropping by early now."

"Do it and die, Lowman." Stopping and turning, you point an accusatory finger at him. "Do not come in between me and my bed. I will murder you."

His lips twitch. "Worth it."

. .

. .

It takes less than a week for Happy to get his power and water turned back on, and then he's back at his house. Though there are times when he shows up for dinner, dropping off on your couch when he's too tired to walk back home. Normally you would mind, but Happy knew how to clean up after himself, so you didn't mind that it seemed he was practically half moved in.

One night, you get a call from your brother that they need you to come in and work on cracking the passwords on a few laptops they'd gotten their hands on. You agreed, but first you needed to arrange someone to look after your house.

The next afternoon, you show up to Teller Automotive. You find Happy on a smoke break and ask him for a favor. When you ask him if he can keep an eye on your house for two days, he seems surprised, even more so when you give him a copy of your house key. You tell him he can crash there and eat whatever food you have so long as he doesn't trash the place. He readily agrees.

And when you return two days later, you realize you should have specified that he could crash in the guest bedroom. Finding a nearly naked Happy in your bed isn't half bad, nor is the firmness of his ass when you smack a hand down on it to wake him up.

Immediately he jerks awake, twisting his body as he sits up, and pointing a gun right at your face. You laugh and lick the tip of the barrel while wiggling your eyebrows at him. "Wakey, wakey."

"You're a fuckin' pyscho," he grumbles, lowering his gun.

"Yeah, well duh. You should have had that figured out a long time ago." He rolls his eyes before turning to drop down face first back into your pillow, shoving his gun back under it. You grin. "Was there something wrong with the guest room you've been using?"

"No. I just didn't know how fuckin' massive your bed was. It looked lonely without a body in it."

"Mhmm. I'm sure." He grunts and you chuckle as you crawl out of the bed. "I'm gonna go pick up some breakfast from the diner. Want anything?"

"Anything and everything."

"Gotcha. I'll text you when I'm on my way back."

. .

. .

The dynamic between you and Happy ended up changing after that fateful morning. When he slept over, it was in your bed. You hadn't crossed the line past lingering touches or innuendos, but it was a given that he was the only person allowed in your bed. You didn't care for the croweaters at the parties his club put on every Friday night, but the two of you made a statement when he rolled up one night with you seated behind him.

The Sons nearly gaped as Happy amped up his protectiveness, pulling you between his parted thighs as he took a seat on a stool at the bar. Tig and Juice had walked over, and Happy perched you on his knee as you joked with his brothers. The croweaters didn't bother to hide their glares or sneers, but you merely smirked at their cattiness and took to scratching the back of Happy's head with your nails when you'd draped your arm around his shoulders.

"So, is this a thing?" Jax, the club president, had asked.

You shrugged and grinned. "We're friends."

"Friends don't stake claims."

"We're possessive friends."

Happy had snorted but didn't correct you.

From there on out, it was known that you were Happy's.

The Sons are relaxing at the clubhouse after a long day's work when blacked out Escalades and BMW's pull up. The atmosphere immediately goes from relaxed to tense, and the Sons flank their President when he walks out to the lot to see what the deal is.

Thug after thug exit the vehicles before opening the doors on two Escalades, ushering out four well-dressed men. None of them look like they'd be a person to fuck with, so Jax is extremely curious as to what the fuck is going on.

"Can I help you?" He asks, eyebrow arches as tattooed thugs flank the apparent important men.

"I hope you can." The one in charge reaches into his coat pocket, pulling out a picture. "What do you know about this woman?"

When Jax is shown a picture, he mentally curses. It's Happy's neighbor and a friend to many Sons. He keeps his expression neutral, before shrugging. "Nothing. Should I?"

"She's my baby sister."

"Oh hell…"

"YN never misses check-in and she's missed two," the man explains. "It's come to my attention that she's made some connections to Happy Lowman, Juan Ortiz, and Tig Trager- all Sons of Anarchy. Do you understand why I'm here now?"

"Fuck, man, we didn't know. What can we do?"

"You can start by questioning your men to see if they'd heard from her."

At that, Tig steps forward. "I haven't seen or spoken with YN in a little over a week."

"What about Juan or Happy?"

Jax looks at his gathered men, frowning. "Where are Juice and Happy?" No one says anything, looking as confused as their President when they don't see their familiar faces. Then raising his voice, he asks, "Has anyone heard from Happy or Juice today?" Nothing. No one utters a peep. "What about yesterday?"

"Jax." Opie has his phone to ear, shaking his head. "Both are going to voicemail."

"Shit." Then turning around to face the slowly darkening expressions of YN's apparent brothers, Jax asks, "How can we help?"

. .

. .

When your eyes flutter open, every inch of your body is in pain.

"How the fuck does my hair hurt?" You groan. You try to sit up, but realize you're on your side, on dirt and hay, with your hands tied behind your back. "What the actual fuck?" Clearing your vision, you see that you're not alone. Happy and Juice are with you, but they're in chairs with their hands tied behind their backs and looking a little beat up.

"Welcome back, Sleeping Beauty," Juice tiredly muses.

"What happened?" Maneuvering around some, you manage to sit up.

"Kidnapped," Happy says. "They injected us with some shit, but they gave you too much."

You grimace as you roll your neck. "Dicks." It's dim in the empty barn you're being kept in, but you can see sunlight through the cracks of the walls. There are stalls for animals on either side of you, all empty, and a table filled with various blades and weapons not too far away. Your aching arms are your main priority though, so you move into a crouch and wiggle your tied wrists under your butt. With a grunt, you fall backward and maneuver your hands until they're situated in front of you. "Ah. That's better."

"Get up and grab a blade so we can get the fuck outta here," Happy urges.

You do as you're told, mentally scoffing at the thought that these morons didn't think to bind your ankles. Unfortunately, you're not so lucky as someone had been watching from the shadows. So just as you're reaching for a blade, that someone jumps out at you and roughly pins you against the table.

Bent over with your arms above your head and someone pressed up right against you, you immediately start thrashing and cussing out whoever it is. Happy and Juice shout, and start wriggling in their own seats when a hand then pins you to the table by the back of your neck.

"So close, princesa." A man tuts and you jerk in his hold, but still he persists. Laughter causes you to look up, watching as another two men step out from behind Happy and Juice. "Is that anyway to talk to your host?"

"Fuck. Off."

"Oh, I will." Just then, a hand grips your waist and squeezes, and you freeze. "Just not yet. I have some questions for you."

"Don't you fucking touch her."

When you glance up at Happy, there's a look on his face that you've never seen before. You know what he does for the Sons, but you'd never seen that particular dark look or glint in his eyes, and for a moment it steals your breath away. Then you remember that look isn't meant for you, and you squirm a little as the man behind you laughingly presses his pelvis into your ass. "Or what?"

Juice answers, "Or we'll fucking kill you."

That causes all three men to laugh some more.

"Doubtful. But thanks for the laugh." Then the man behind you focuses on you once again. "Besides, my business isn't with you, but with the princesa de la mafia."

You tense. "I don't know anything."

"Aw. Of course, you don't," the man coos. "I would hope that your brothers are smart enough to never let a woman in on their secrets. But then again, you are the baby sister of one of the most dangerous mafias in the United States. I'm pretty sure you know something that I can use to hurt those brothers of yours."

You manage to angle your head just enough so you can make eye contact with Happy. He meets your stare, and you see it subtly soften, but then he's glaring at the man holding you once more. "I won't sell out my brothers."

"No?" The man releases your neck, only to trail his fingers down from your ribs to hips. "I don't want to mess up such a pretty face, but you do know there are other ways to break you and get you to talk, right?"

And then before you can answer, he's grabbing the back hem of your shirt and ripping it down the middle.

You yelp just as Happy shouts, "You motherfucker!", and squirm to get away. Across from you, Happy and Juice are pummeled a few times until they stop trying to break the chairs they're bound to.

The man rubs a hand up and down your back, fiddling with your bra strap, but never unsnapping it. You feel gross, but it's only when the guy reaches around to fiddle with the button on your jeans does red cloud your vision.

"Hey, Hap?" You manage to meet Happy's livid gaze. "Remember when I spoke about my demons?"

"Yeah."

"They desperately wanna come out to play."

"Shut the fuck up, you whore!" The man slaps you across the back of your head and you grit your teeth, biding your time.

Happy slowly smirks. "Then let them out to play, baby."

The moment the button on your jeans is opened, you scream at a pitch that startles every man in the room. Then pushing up as much as you can, you headbutt the man behind you. As he swears, you reach for the first handle you see and are pleasantly surprised to find a small machete. Then without even thinking, you whirl around and swing the blade, catching your would-be abuser in the neck with the blade.

Blood sprays as you immediately tug the blade free, leaving the man to try and cover his wound as he splutters on his own life force. From the corner of your eye, you see someone running at you, but another swing of the machete finds a home in the second man's face.

As the man falls back with a scream unlike anything you've ever heard, he takes the machete with him. Happy and Juice shout at you, and it's then you remember the third. He's running at you, a small blade in hand, and you reach for the nearest weapon. It's a metal bat and just as you rear back to swing, he swings first. The blade makes contact with your bicep, slicing it open, but you only feel the sting of it after you swing.

The bat clips the man in the jaw, stunning him. As he stumbles back, you advance. He sloppily swipes at you again, but you dodge it. The second hit with the bat hits true, catching him in the temple.

The man falls and you're quick to stand over him, bringing the bat down a third time.

The bat connecting for a fourth time makes Juice cringe, but Happy proudly watches on.

Thwack.

Thwack. A scream.

Crack!

"Shit. I think that was his skull," Juice mutters.

YN screams as she continues to wail on the man with her bat, caving his skull further and further in, to the point there's now a puddle of blood beneath his head and splattering with every pull back.

The barn doors open, and Happy and Juice tense when armed men start to file in, but they exhale with relief when they see Jax, Tig, Chibs, and Opie in the mix. All the unfamiliar men take in the scene with an air of indifference, but it's the expressions of the Sons that almost make Happy laugh out loud. They'd only known YN to laugh, feed them, or threaten the croweaters with violence. None of them, with the exception of himself, Juice, and Tig, knew the violence she was capable of.

"Uh, a little help?" Juice calls out. "My arms are killing me over here."

Tig rushes over, pulling out a blade to cut his brothers free. "What the fuck happened?"

"One of them threatened to rape her and she just lost her shit."

Juice is cut free first, and he immediately stands, rubbing his raw wrists. As Jax checks in with him, Happy is cut free.

"Boss, should we stop this?" Someone asks.

Happy looks over in time to see a guy in a suit grimace when blood is flung onto his pristine boots. "Do you want to get in the middle of that? You know how YN is. Let's just let her run out of steam."

As the guy steps back in line with a nod of agreement, Happy huffs and stands. He stalks over to YN until he's behind her. Then when she raises the bat high above her head, Happy lunges. He manages to grip the bat where it isn't slick and pulls it from YN's grasp.

Still very much livid, especially now that your weapon's been ripped from you, you whirl around to start screaming expletives and pummel whoever it is with your bound fists. Instead, arms are wrapped around you, keeping your arms stuck between your chest and another, and there's a gruff voice in your ear saying, "It's over. It's over, baby. The cavalry's here. You can stop now."

It takes a long minute for the voice to infiltrate the fog of rage, and then a moment to realize who's speaking.

When your struggles cease, Happy leans back a little to look down at you, but with his arms still wrapped around you. "You back?"

"Y-Yeah. M'sorry."

Happy grunts and leans his face closer to yours, and for a moment you think he's about to kiss you. Instead, he presses his forehead against yours as his eyes close, and he exhales with relief. "Don't be. That was hot as fuck."

You huff a quiet laugh as a bout of silence ensues, but then one of your brothers decides to ruin it.

"Hey, Lowman, we'll give you a million dollars if you give her your last name and take her off our hands."

You jerk in Happy's hold, turning to glare at all your smirking brothers. "Fuck off!" Laughter ensues at your disgruntled expression before Juice fills them in on what happened, and then Happy is tugging on your bound wrists so you look back at him before finally cutting you free. "Thank you."

One hand grasps the hair at the back of your head, gripping a little tight as he holds you in place so he can press a kiss to your forehead. "Let's get you home. You're covered in blood, and I need to take a look at your arm."

Glancing at your arm, you shrug. It stings, yeah, but it doesn't seem deep enough. And then just as you go to take a step, Happy swoops you up into a bridal carry.

It's then you notice that you, Happy, and Juice are all barefoot, and it's Juice who answers your unasked question. "You sleep like the dead, girl. Happy and I heard them enter the house, but they still managed to get the drop on us."

"I'm getting you a goddamn dog," Happy grumbles in response.

"Only if you clean up after it." He grunts and you grin. If he wanted a guard dog for you, then he was cleaning up any messes.

Outside the barn, suggestions are made about where to go now. Jax suggests the clubhouse, but at the wrinkling of your nose, Happy says you'll be going home. Your brothers mention not everyone can go because that many vehicles will draw attention, so Jax suggests sending your brothers' men back to the club with Opie and Chibs. They agree, and then you're loaded up into an Escalade with your brothers and Happy.

When you get to your house, Tig mentions that they had cleaned up and straightened your furniture after they figured out what had happened. You thank him and let Happy carry you to your bathroom while Juice takes the guest bathroom.

As Happy sets you on the counter, you watch as he gets the first aid kit from beneath your sinks. "They're gonna talk."

"Let them. The club already thinks we're fuckin'."

You snort. "Please. They should know by now that I'd never settle for a relationship where the guy gets to fuck around when he's on the road." Happy freezes with the antiseptic spray bottle in his hand before shaking himself free of thought and spritzing your arm where you were cut.

"Is that why you haven't given me the go-ahead to slip between your thighs?"

You smile at his blunt question and then wince when he wipes your arm clean. "Pretty much. I'm not a fan of my partner sticking his dick or tongue in some rando pussy, then coming home and doing the same to me." Happy grunts and you arch an eyebrow at him. "Would you be okay with me visiting my brothers and sucking someone's dick before coming home to you?"

"Fuck no."

"Exactly." You grin triumphantly. "So, unless you plan to stop dicking down croweaters or sweetbutts, the most you'll get out of me is some cuddling."

Stepping back, Happy tosses the used gauze pads into the trashcan and then reaches into your shower stall to turn on the water. Then looking at you, he demands, "Strip."

"If I fully strip, there's no going back. You're mine and mine alone." You hop off the counter, slipping off your ruined shirt without batting an eye. "I was calm and collected at your parties before because we're friends, but that all changes after this. I won't take it easy on any woman touching what's mine."

Happy smirks as he eyes you in your bra and jeans, and then strips off his shirt. "Good."

You've seen the man shirtless only a handful of times, but seeing his ink never fails to give you pause. You reach out for the first time, tracing the snake tattoo that takes up a majority of his chest and upper abdomen, before you trace the various happy faces on the side of his waist. You feel his abdominal muscles twitch and then between one heartbeat and the next, Happy's crowding you against the sink counter and angling your head up.

His kiss is as aggressive as you figured it'd be, his tongue sliding against yours and teeth digging into your bottom lip. You give as good as you get, nails digging into either side of Happy's waist as you kiss him. Then when the need for air arises, you pull back and try to catch your breath. "Well okay then."

Moving out from Happy's reach, you strip, uncaring of your nudity and then step into the steaming shower. Happy isn't too far behind you, but you're not too interested in seeing him fully naked as you are cleansing a stranger's blood from your body. Standing under the waterfall, you watch as the shower floor turns red. Happy presses in close behind you so he's under the water as well, and you straighten up before leaning your head back onto his shoulder, smiling softly at his hardness that presses against your ass.

"No funny business, Lowman. At least not until we've eaten a fuck ton and slept for a day or two."

He grunts. "Agreed."

You immediately start washing your hair, and you're surprised when Happy takes it upon himself to lather up some soap on your bath pouf to wash your body. For the most part he behaves himself, but when his thumb oh so casually brushes over your nipples, you slap his thigh and pay him back when it's your turn to wash him. He grunts when you take his dick in hand and thrusts into your soapy palm, but you quickly release him to finish washing his body.

"Fuckin' tease."

"You started it."

You get out of the shower first, smirking as Happy tells you he'll be out in a moment. You know exactly what that moment's going to entail since his hand is already stroking his cock before you can even find a towel.

"You gonna want something to eat?"

"Send Tig to get burgers and fries."

"Alright."

Back in your room, you can hear a muttered conversation from somewhere in your house. Clutching the towel around your body, you stick your head out your door. "Tig!"

"What?"

"Happy said to go get us some burgers, fries, and Cokes!"

"Do I look like a fuckin' maid?!" Tig appears in the hall, hands on his hips.

You grin at him. "No, but I do have a maid's costume. Wanna try it on?" Tig gapes and you laugh at his expression. "Come on, Tig. Please? You can grab some cash from the junk drawer."

"Fine. But only because I know Hap will murder me if I don't, not because I'm picturing you in a teeny tiny maid's outfit."

"Sure, buddy. Thank you!"

Tig grumbles as he turns to march out of your house and then you worry about getting dressed. You dress in nothing but a sports bra and boy short underwear, and then with a reluctant sigh you head to the front. Everyone's in your kitchen, sitting around your table, and your brothers groan when they see how little you're wearing.

"Oh, shut up. You've seen me in clothes like this before."

"In tights, not underwear," one brother grumbles.

"Just be glad they're boy shorts and not a g-string."

All your brothers groan yet again whereas the Sons find the interaction amusing. You take a seat at the table, grimacing a little and touching at your raw wrists.

"Let me get that for you," Juice says. He leaves to, no doubt, grab the first aid kit from the bathroom. Then taking a seat next to you, he asks, "Did Hap disinfect your arm?"

"Yeah. Just spritz it again and wrap it. It'll be fine."

As soon as Juice gets to work, Happy enters the kitchen in nothing but a pair of jeans hanging off his hips.

"Jesus," one of your brother's mumbles. "Are people suddenly allergic to clothes around here?"

You grin as Jax arches an eyebrow at his friend. "You have clothes here?" Happy nods and sits, and you quickly introduce him to your brothers while Jax looks at Juice to say, "You seem to know your way around this place too."

"It's because they practically live here when they're not at the clubhouse," you say. "Hap's moved his shit in my room, and Tig and Juice have slowly taken over my guest room." Then glancing at your brothers as if you didn't just drop somewhat of a bombshell on Jax, you ask, "So what the hell happened?"

Juice taps above one of your raw wrists and you situate them so he can disinfect them.

Your eldest brother meets your gaze. "There's a new family in town- Jimenez. They're trying to make a name for themselves and thought they could intimidate us." You scoff as your other brother's chuckle. "When they didn't get the reaction they were looking for, they came up with the bright idea to target the weak link. They thought they had the perfect candidate when they found out we had a baby sister."

"Joke's on them, you're fuckin' psycho," another brother muses.

"I'm not-"

"We literally walked in on you bashing a guy's head in."

"And let's not forget the whole reason you're in Charming is because you tried to burn down your ex's house while he was still inside."

"Or that one time you wrecked your car into that other girl's car all because she broke your friend's heart."

"That cunt cheated on him. She deserved every bit of karma I dished out."

Jax snorts, shaking his head. "Christ. You and Hap are gonna be a pain in my ass."

"You know it."

Tig shows up just after Juice is finished with your wrists. Juice then dishes out the food to you, Happy, and himself, and you get up to grab drinks from the fridge. As you settle back down, Jax and your brothers watch in surprise at how the three of you go to town on your provided meals.

"So, what exactly does one do as a mafia princess?" Jax wonders.

Chewing the food in your mouth, you only answer him after taking a drink of your soda. "I'm the family hacker. If they need a computer hacked into to gather information or scrub information, I get called in."

"So, in other words, you're female Juice," Tig says.

You laugh. "Yeah. Yeah, I am." Juice grins and you reach over to fist bump him.

You continue eating as Jax speaks with your brothers, listening as this small portion of the Sons of Anarchy are filled in about what business your family gets up to. When you're finished eating, you stand and start gathering up the trash to toss. While you're up, you grab yourself a glass of water and some Ibuprofen. Then after downing four pills, you head back to reclaim your seat at the table, only for Happy to gently grab you by the arm and tug you down onto his thigh.

Your brothers don't care about your new chair, but Jax, Juice, and Tig can't help but raise an eyebrow.

"So, is this a thing?" Jax wonders, gesturing between you and Happy.

As you drape an arm behind Happy's shoulders to settle more against him, you smirk. "What's the matter, Teller? Scared?"

He huffs and then stares at Happy, but the man beneath you merely says, "Gonna start drawing up a crow. Does that answer your question?"

The kitchen goes eerily quiet and then…

"Holy shit. Hap's actually gonna take a woman," Juice says in awe.

"This is a momentous occasion. We gotta throw a rager." The glint in Tig's eyes has you narrowing your own eyes at him.

"You just wanna see a girl fight. Don't you?"

"Hap's been possessive of you since you first showed up to the clubhouse, but now that you're staking a claim, the thought might have crossed my mind."

"Are you sure you wanna see that?" One of your brother muses. "YN might traumatize a few poor souls."

Tig smiles. "I look forward to it."

You roll your eyes at Tig's excitement about possibly seeing you fight and your brothers chuckle. The Sons really had no idea what they were in for when someone tested your patience.

Standing, you keep a hand on Happy's shoulder as you say, "Well as much as I love, like, and appreciate all of you, you need to go. I'm exhausted and I still need to sleep off whatever I was drugged with."

Jax grins. "Is that code for us to get the hell out so you can bang Happy's brains out?"

Snorting, you shake your head as your brothers all grimace. "No. I'm seriously exhausted. The fucking will come later after we're well rested. I have a feeling I'm gonna need loads of energy for Hap."

Your brothers all make noises of disgust as they stand, and you take a moment to hug and kiss each of their cheeks on their way out. You promise to call when you're feeling better and then you're ushering the Sons out as well.

Locking up after everyone has left, you head to your room where you find Happy stripping off his jeans. He's in nothing but a pair of boxer briefs as he pulls your blanket back before sliding under and you pad over to do the same. You meet him in the middle, laying on your side as you drape one arm over his abdomen. With your head on his arm, you snuggle closer and Happy reaches for your leg to have it draped over his thigh so you're as close as can be without actually laying on top of him.

"Were you serious? About the crow?" You ask right before you drift off.

"Does that freak you out?"

"Not really. But if I get your mark, you're getting mine."

Happy huffs. "And just what is your mark?"

"My lips and name." You run your hand across his abdomen before walking your fingers down to one of the few empty patches of skin, below his belly button and right beneath where the snake's tail curls. "Right here."

"Above my dick, you mean?"

"Mhmm."

Happy grunts and then squeezes you a little tighter to him. "We'll see, princess. Now get some sleep."

[brunettemarionette]

Gemma sighs as she talks over the phone. "…no, she doesn't have any open appointments for the next few months. I have Tig, Juice, or Opie free?… okay well, I'll book you in with her if anything opens up. Bye." She sighs putting the phone down walking outside.

The guys were all standing watching you bent over the hood of a car, looking into the window, with your overalls on, arms tied around your waist, and a cropped vest. "Does anyone work around here?"

They all scurried away in case you turned and notice them staring.

The matriarch of the club sighs before giving you a once over and staring at your ass until she notices Clay staring at her with a smirk. "Stop staring at the kid's ass while she's working," he says teasingly.

Gemma just smirked, whispering in her husband's ear as he rubbed a hand over his chest, "I will when you do, baby."

[krazycattgurl]

❤️ I fucking love them

[ravennaortiz]

Your Boyfriend is a Bitch headcanon SOA version

Summary: How the guys would react if they overheard some guy hitting on you and telling that your boyfriend is a bitch. Inspiration came from the song below.

Tag List: @keyweegirlie @hatersaremymotivators @meera10 @youngadult9016 @littlefrogbrain

Our sweet Juice is amused at first that goofy grin plastered on his face as he sips his beer. He figures it was obvious that you are with him since the guy literally stepped in between you two as you guys were sitting and talking at the clubhouses bar. Guy must just be to caught up in how beautiful his Old Lady is. Then he hears the guy tell you that your boyfriend is a bitch and he could take him. "Alright buddy" laughs Juice that goofy grin slipping into a tight smile as he grabs his shoulder. Slipping off the stool he steers the guy out the door. "Be back in a bit babe" he calls over his shoulder to you.

"Surprise surprise he couldn't take me. Guess you are stuck with me" states Juice smugly as he rejoins you giving you a kiss on the forehead.

Chibs has grown used to the "youngins" hitting on you and such. He used to be quick to swing but your calming nature had him using patience and words a little more often now than his fist. This time though he puts the young man through one of the tables. It's hard to say whose more shocked between the three of you. "Think you can do her better Laddie?" Chibs chuckles darkly as he shakes his head at the trembling man under him. "Why don't you join me and my Ole Lady here in the bedroom. One of us can learn some pointers".

Happy turned away from the pool table when he heard the new prospects response to your decline of a date. Your wide eyed expression, tight smile and nervous chuckle when his eyes met yours told him he had in fact heard the idiot correctly. It was nothing to the prospects expression as he turned to see who you were looking at. Happy simply rolled his toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other for a moment before speaking. "I'm her bitch boyfriend.

Jax is swinging fists before the guy knows what is happening. He demands the guy to answer him between every hard blow. "Think I'm still a bitch?" Are you blind? Couldn't see her crow? The ring?" "Did you miss my arm around her waist?". Jax only relents when Chibs and Opie pull him off the guy. Without another word he pulls you to the dorm hallway to relieve some more of his anger in a more enjoyable way.

Half-Sack is quick to be in the guys face. Newly patched he feels he has a lot to prove still. He makes it clear he doesn't need a gun to win a fight. Which does not last long and leaves the guy hitting on you knocked out and being dragged out of the clubhouse by Happy.

At first Tig thinks you and Kozik are playing a joke on him when you two tell him what happened inside while you were getting a drink. The two of you loved to rile him up and play jokes on him. He also can't wrap his mind around who in their right mind would tell his gorgeous, pregnant wife that she could do better and they could do her better. Especially not after you two had been together for ten years. The tears that start to well up though have him up on his feet and inside, dragging the man out by his kutte. Once he gets your nod of confirmation he pulls him toward the ring.

Opie while usually level headed and one to think things through before reacting. Can't help but to punch the guy in his face before he can even get his sentence out. While he agrees with the guy that you can in fact do better than an outlaw biker, no one else gets to say it.

Kozik would have let it slide. Being called a bitch and stuff did not bother him. What bothered him was how uncomfortable you got and how the guy would not back off. The quiet whisper of his government name from your lips had him grabbing the offending guy into a chokehold and yanking him out of the clubhouse to teach him a lesson on respect.

Rat had his teeth gritted as he served drinks from behind the bar. Still being a prospect he was limited on what he could do to a patched member, let alone the VP of another visiting charter. "You have my permission to handle that" stated Jax as he came around the bar, having heard what was happening. Rat nodded his head in appreciation before yanking the guy over the bar top. There were perks to dating the sister of the mother charters President.

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[thisreadswhatever]

The Chase: Part One

Pretty Sweet

series masterlist

[description]: jax teller x female reader

[wordcount]: 2.7k+

[summary]: Jax Teller is used to getting what he wants. At least that was the case before he met you.

[cw]: 18+ only minors do not interact - AU, follows some canon characters & themes but timeline is different. otherwise none yet, but stick with me, I have a smutty plan!

[authors note]: this has been really fun to write. thank you so much to this anon for requesting this idea! I plan on writing a good few parts of this.. as I am really loving writing this reader insert. if you have any ideas or suggestions on where you would like this to go, please let me know! I absolutely love getting your suggestions. I really hope you enjoy!

It had been a long sixteen hour drive. You sighed with relief as you sped past the large wooden slice, “WELCOME TO CHARMING”. You rolled your windows down, the wind blistering through your hair as you took in the warm California sun. 

You turned the music up, attempting to drown out the events replaying in your head that led you here in the first place. 

Charming wasn’t exactly on your bucket list of places to travel. Your parents had split a few years back, after your mom decided she could no longer handle the baggage that came with the Sons of Anarchy MC. Your Dad was an avid member of the Denver Charter, and she soon realised she couldn’t sit back and watch as he grew deeper into the Club. It was a quick and amicable divorce, made easier by the fact you were an only child and more than understanding of why the relationship had to end. You were old enough to see the pain your mom went through trying to make it work, and you knew that it was the best decision for them both. Your Dad on the other hand, never really got over it. 

When your mom remarried last year, he decided to leave Colorado and transferred to the SAMCRO Charter. Charming was his home now. He’d been begging you to visit him for months, and despite the fact you were genuinely pleased that he was happy, seeing him so far from home and content without his family wasn’t something you’d looked forward too. 

Charming was a small place, and from what your Dad had told you, it had never really left the seventies. Denver was the total opposite, a city full of life and people, and ever growing with new expanding chains of business. Even with the freezing winters, there was always something to do in Denver. But Charming? They barely had a population of fifteen thousand. 

You had evaded the trip for as long as you could, blaming college assignments and exams for the reason you couldn’t make the drive. Now that you’d graduated, the excuses had run thin, and it was time to visit your Dad in Charming. 

You pulled into the road of the address he had given you, entering a long unpaved driveway that ended on the outside of a dainty cabin. Your Dad’s bike was parked stagnant on the dirt. You dug your suitcase out from your trunk and walked up the wooden steps to the porch, bringing your hand to the door to knock. Before your knuckles could meet the wood, the door flung wide and your Dad lunged at you with open arms. 

“You’re finally here!”, he squealed in excitement as he grasped you into a giant bear hug.

“‘Finally’ is right. That was a serious drive, Dad.”

He took your suitcase and carried it through the entryway. “Sure is. I’m so glad you got here safely, kiddo. Come on, let’s get you settled. You hungry? I was just about to make some lunch.”

You followed him inside as you observed the interior of the quaint, dusty cabin. “I could definitely eat.” 

—

Your Dad showed you to your room and then became sidetracked from lunch, giving you a full tour of his new home and the complete low down of all things SAMCRO. He’d explained that the place was owned by the Club, but nobody ever frequented it unless they were in hiding. Your Dad was housed here for the long term, or at least until he could find something he liked better inside the Charming suburbs. 

Once he’d caught you up, he made his start on lunch. You watched as he strolled throughout the kitchen, sitting patiently at the small round dining table. 

“It’s a nice place, Dad. Not sure how I feel that you’re out here all alone though.”

“I’m barely here, kiddo. Spend most of my time down the Clubhouse.” He shrugged nonchalantly as he continued to make sandwiches, dropping a piece of turkey in the process. “I can’t wait for you to meet the guys, y/n. A lot more warm than the ones up in Denver. Some of them are your age too.” He placed the plate in front of you, and you grimaced at the site. Your Dad had never claimed to be a great chef. 

“Thanks.” You smiled at him politely, taking a bite and struggling to swallow down the piece of dry sandwich. “I’m sure they’re great, Dad.”

“So, how’s your mom?” 

You shrugged dismissively, unsure how to broach the uncomfortable topic of the newly weds. “She’s doing well. Mike is good to her.” 

He nodded. “That’s good. I’m really glad she’s happy.” 

It was hard to see your Dad try to be okay with the fact that your mom had moved on. The awkward silence was interrupted by his chair scraping against the floor as he stood up from the table. “Finish lunch and we can head on out. The guys are getting together at the Clubhouse tonight, you can meet them all there.”

You knew an evening with a bunch of Californian bikers was going to be inevitable during your trip. At least you could get it over with on the first night. 

“Sounds great, Dad.” 

—

You weren’t thrilled to be back in the confines of your car so soon after your long road trip, but your Dad knew better than to ask you to sit on the back of his motorcycle.

You rolled the windows down of your car as you followed his bike through the winding road from the cabin. As you re-entered Charming, you passed by locally run stores and cafes. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think this was a quiet, peaceful town. But you did know better. You knew what the Club’s presence actually meant for a small community like Charming. If SAMCRO was anything similar to the Denver Charter, the underworkings of this town would be anything but quiet and peaceful. 

You pulled into the lot of Teller-Morrow Automotive Repairs, instantly drawn to the huge row of Harley motorcycles lined up on the inner bays.

Your Dad parked up and met you outside your car, telling you all about his new job in the garage as you walked together. He led you across the lot towards a small black door, entering into the SAMCRO clubhouse. It was impressive, a comfortable space with its own bar and lounge area. The place was full of MC memorabilia and pictures from the club’s long history. The furthest wall was centered by two large double doors that were surrounded by mugshots of the SAMCRO members. You had visited the Denver Clubhouse enough to know that room was where the decisions were made.

Your Dad introduced you one by one to several members that were there, a few of which he’d mentioned to you that afternoon. Bobby, Chibs, Trager, Juice and Opie all greeted you with open arms. They were extremely friendly and welcoming, just as your father had promised. The one your Dad called Trager seemed very pleased with your arrival, hugging you for a little too long. Your Dad managed to break the long embrace, pulling you away to start touring you around the building. 

“Don’t get too close to that one, kiddo. He’s a little out there.” 

You giggled as you nodded in agreement, “I’ll keep my distance.” 

—

You sat alongside the club’s Secretary, Bobby, on a leather bench that faced out with a view of the entire room. You observed as the Clubhouse filled with more members and women, a handful of which were old ladies. The rest of them, very clearly single. Of all the members you’d met so far, Bobby had been the easiest to talk to. He clued you in on some of the Club’s legitimate businesses, Cara Cara and Red Woody Productions. You figured that’s where most of the girls came from, retired and current porn stars. 

It was a little strange, and anyone else may have felt uneasy seeing their father in this kind of environment. But you were used to the life of girls and guns from growing up with a dad in a motorcycle club. The Denver Charter had its fair share of women in and out of their doors, but mainly just bartenders and the odd crow eater looking for a way in. These girls were more forward, scantily clothed, makeup on point, and obviously comfortable with their surroundings.  

Bobby nudged your shoulder, regaining your attention from the party happening around you. “You know your Dad talks about you constantly. He’s so happy that you’re here, kid. We all are.” 

You glanced over at your father, a huge smile forming as he collected a drink from the bar. 

“He does seem happy. Just weird seeing him away from home.” 

“You got a home here with us too now, y/n.” He placed his arm over you and squeezed your shoulder reassuringly, “we’re your family as much as we are his.” 

“That’s really sweet, Bobby. Thanks.” 

He pulled his arm back as he chuckled to himself, his large stomach bellowing as he laughed. “I am pretty sweet.” 

Suddenly, the front door opened and a roar of drunken welcomes filled the clubhouse as two more members entered. The President of SAMCRO, Clay Morrow, walked in smiling ear to ear, hands held up as though he was a celebrity greeting his adoring fans. You’d heard a lot about Clay from your father, mainly that he was the initial sponsor for his transfer from Denver, and some remarks about what an ass he was. Behind him, a much younger member followed, embracing Opie as he entered. He was different from the other members, not totally clean cut, but you could at least tell he had showered. Not only was he bathed, he wasn’t harsh on the eyes either. You watched as he talked with Opie, his hands pushing his long blonde hair behind his ears as he spoke. 

“Who’s that?” You asked Bobby, your eyes never feigning from the man. 

“That’s Jax. Club’s VP.” 

As you watched him converse with Opie, he suddenly glanced your way, locking eyes with you. You quickly turned away from him and back towards Bobby. 

“He looks a little young to be Vice President”, you mumbled as you took a swig from your beer, still conscious that he was looking at you. 

Bobby laughed, “Yeah, well, he’s a Teller. His Dad was First 9 alongside Clay and Piney Winston, Ope’s pops. Jax has been SAMCRO since he came out of the womb.” 

You raised your eyebrows, glancing back over your shoulder. Jax’s attention had now been obtained by one of the Cara Cara girls. She was pulling him in by his cutte, batting her eyelashes at him as she leaned against the bar. 

Bobby watched as you observed Jax. He sipped his drink, amused by your interest. “He’s known for his way with the ladies.” 

You wanted to press Bobby further, but your Dad suddenly was stumbling over beside you, placing a hand on your shoulder. 

“Come on over here, kid. I want you to meet my sponsor.” 

“The asshole?”, you whispered to him as you stood up from the chair.

He snickered back at you, patting you on the back. “He’s having a good day.” 

—

You were impressed by the brotherhood the Redwood Originals shared. It wasn’t unfamiliar to the Denver Charter, but the way the members of SAMCRO loved one another was palpable. You observed quietly throughout the night as they all ripped into each other with lighthearted banter and spilled beer all over the place. You were conflicted by the fact your Dad fit in so well here. It was painful to know he had chosen this life over one with you in Denver, but you still felt at peace knowing he had found a place in this family. 

He was now slumped over a leather armchair in the lounge, snoozing after one too many beers. You nudged his shoulder, trying to wake him. “I’m gonna head back to the cabin, Dad. I’ll meet you here in the morning?” 

“You sure, y/n?” He tried to stand up as he slurred, but his balance failed him, collapsing back into the seat. “I can lead you back-” 

You chuckled, placing a hand on his head as he closed his eyes, “No way are you getting on a bike in this state. I remember the way.” 

Tig overheard and slid himself beside you, placing an arm across your waist. “We’ll take care of him, sweetie. Don’t you worry. Get back safe, okay?”

You unwound from his grasp, collecting your bag from the coffee table as you searched through the contents for your keys. “Thanks Trager.”

A strange laugh left his throat as he watched you leave, before his face turned straight as a board. “Call me Tig.” 

You said your goodbyes to the members that were sober enough to communicate, and made your way to the parking lot. 

Jax Teller was sitting outside the clubhouse, journal and pencil in hand. He glanced up at the sound of the door opening, a lit cigarette hanging from his lips.

He smiled boldly, in a way that perplexed you. Almost like he was happy to see you, even though you’d never met. He took the cigarette from his lips as he asked, “you’re Ralph’s kid, right?”

“I usually just go by y/n.”

He placed his pencil inside the journal and tucked it snug in his cutte, standing from the bench. “It’s a nice thing you’re doing, coming all this way to see him.”

You nodded, “had to make sure my Dad wasn’t living with some crazed psychopaths, you know?” 

He exhaled, his lips forming a perfect O as the smoke left his lips. “Pretty sure a few of those knuckleheads could pass for psychotic”, he teased. His mouth pulled into an infectious smile, and you couldn’t help but smile back. 

Jax walked closer towards you, your bodies now inches apart. He held out an open pack of cigarettes, prompting you to take one. You shook your head, declining the offer.

 “And what about you? How’s your level of sanity?” 

Jax hesitated. “A work in progress.” 

You smiled politely as you walked past him, making your way to the car. “Anyway, I was just leaving. Was nice meeting you.” 

Jax’s brow creased in concern, “you heading to the cabin on your own?” 

You looked over your shoulder to see him pacing behind you, flicking his cigarette to the cement.

“My Dad’s not exactly in riding order.” 

“I can take you back.” 

You stopped outside your car and turned to him, scoffing at how forward he was. “I met you thirty seconds ago.”

“So?” He shrugged. 

“I don’t really think that’s appropriate.” 

“I’m not asking to get in bed with you, y/n. You can ride the Harley with me and I’ll leave the second you’re in the cabin.” 

You opened the car door, sliding into the seat. “Not gonna happen.” 

“I won’t lay a hand on ya, darlin’,” he raised his hand up, smiling, “scouts honor.” 

You pressed your lips together, suppressing yourself from giggling at his innocent gesture. “I don’t ride bikes.” You affirmed. 

Jax cocked his head at you, confused at the statement. “Denver girl’s scared of bikes?” 

Your eyes rolled at his assumption. “No offense, but I just met you. I’m not sure my safety is your concern.” You shut the car door, realising your window had been left ajar from the way there. You wanted to curse aloud that the good Californian weather enabled the opportunity to ride with the windows down.

Jax didn’t push further, nodding his head as he watched you settle into the driver's seat. “No offense taken.”

Jax leaned his head into the open window, resting his arms on the roof of the car. You turned the ignition, letting the engine roar to life. “Nice to meet you, Jax.” 

“You too, darlin’. Will I see you again?” 

You were looking directly at him, your faces parted only by the frame of the window between you. “I’m here for the week, darlin’.” 

His lips pulled from ear to ear, smiling playfully as you put the gear in reverse, forcing his hands off the car as you pulled out of the parking lot. You peaked in the rear-view mirror, finding Jax still watching you drive away into the Charming night.

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[witchthewriter]

@a-kayy47.

[drakoneve]

Destined Meetings

request: Hey, do you think you could write something where the reader is related to tig somehow, and they're in charming for work or college and they start a relationship with juice? Cute and a little angsty at first?

pairing: Juice Ortiz x Trager!Reader

word count: 1.9k

warnings: club crimes, reader's mom isn't the best + suggested childhood trauma, alcohol and drug (maryj) use

a/n: there will be another part for sure, but i might make this a bit of a mini-series, lmk what you think. happy reading!

Tig hardly ever talked about it, but he'd been married once. He would rather die than ever admit he loved anyone but Dawn and Fawn, but he loved her. And you, his sweet, sweet Y/n.

His heart clenched at the thought of you. You were only two years old at the time of the accident. The day your mother decided she had had enough of Tig and the life he came with and that she needed to run.

It was that day, when your mother pulled out of Charming and never looked back. She only made it two towns over before she took a reckless turn right off an overpass into oncoming traffic.

Tig could remember the look on Unser's face as he approached the older man in the TM parking lot like yesterday, and how he wished he could go back and convince your mom not to go. Or to leave you, at least.

Unser had just began working with the club back then, and this case in particular had always stuck with him. A woman trying to escape her outlaw husband with their baby daughter who ends up getting into a horrific accident that ends up killing them both? One of the saddest stories Unser had ever heard.

Except for the fact none of it was true.

Because there you stood, alive and well, right in front of the Chief's desk.

"I know it sounds crazy," you shake your head, hopeful look on your face. "I wouldn't believe it either, actually. And I don't really have any proof other than my memories, but I'm sure it's him."

The aging polaroid in you had provided him of a much younger Tig and a woman he recognizes to be your mother back when she was pregnant with you.

"No, no," he waves your worries away. "I believe you. In fact, I remember your mother, vaguely, and you look a lot like her."

You grimace. "Yeah, I've been told a few times. So do you know where I can find Alexander?"

Chief Unser pulls a pen from his shirt pocket and begins writing on a slip of paper on his desk. "This is the address of the Teller-Morrow, the automotive shop your dad works at. I would take you there myself, but I'm swamped here."

"Oh, it's no issue," you shrug and take the slip of paper. "I can get there myself. Thank you for everything, though."

You turn and begin to leave when Unser calls for you to stop.

"I forgot to mention, your dad goes by 'Tig.'"

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ 

Juice stretched out his arms and popped his neck while he wiped his hands with a rag. Two weeks of waiting for one part was finally over, and he could get this damn Taurus out of the shop. He tossed the rag into his toolbox when a sleek black car comes rumbling into the lot.

He leaves the garage to get a closer look and notices the car is actually a classic, a well taken care of (or well restored) '69 Chevy. While he admires the car he notices you, too.

Your hair is partly clipped back, with enough loose enough to frame your face in a casual look. You're pretty, and admittedly he'd be more distracted by you but Juice can tell by the look on your face you're nervous. Juice would know, it's a look he's had to learn to hide.

By sight and sound nothing seemed to be wrong with your car, and Juice can't help but wonder why you're here.

You shut the engine off and exit your vehicle, all the while silently composing yourself. Heart thudding in your chest, you wonder if you're doing the right thing.

Juice takes the moment you shut the door to approach further.

"Hello," he greets politely, friendly smile on his face. "I'm Juice, and I'll be taking care of you today. What seems to be the problem?"

"Oh, no," you shake your head and laugh nervously. "Nothing's wrong with her. I'm actually-"

You pause, close your eyes for a second and bite the inside of your bottom lip. Juice can't help but watch you fondly, finding you oddly adorable.

Finally you open your eyes and flash a bright, genuine smile.

Damn, I'm made, he thinks.

"This is gonna sound completely insane," you explain, nervously clasping your hands together. "But, um, I'm looking for Alexa- well, no, Tig, Tig Trager."

Juice raises his brows. "Tig? Uh, I don't know if now's the best time."

It's true, he's currently in Oakland with Jax and Chibs on quick business.

"Look, I know it's inconvenient and you don't know me," you plead. You're closer now and Juice can smell your sweet perfume and practically feel your hopefulness. "But until a couple months ago I had no idea my dad was even alive. And then I found out I was here for weeks before realizing he's here, too."

Your dad? There has to be a story there. Juice raises his hands to either side of your arms, holding you still in hopes to assure you.

"It's okay," he says sternly, but in an endearing way. "Tig's not here right now but he should be soon, so let's head on inside and you can tell me a little bit about you. Just to be sure, no offense."

You smile, relieved to be believed to some extent rather than none. "Thank you, Juice. Thank you."

Juice leads you into the Teller-Morrow through the garage entrance into the larger building. From what you could see on the outside you wouldn't have imagined such a spacious clubhouse inside.

Inside were several pool tables, a couch with mini pieces about, a bar with stools, and other tables each with their own set of chairs. Decorations littered the walls and floors and you laughed to yourself as you noted a nearly full ashtray on almost every surface and a wall completely dedicated to mugshots.

Juice leads you to the bar where he gestures for you to sit as he makes his way around. You slip onto a stool and watch patiently as Juice finds two glasses and turns to you.

"What's your preference?"

You shrug, "Whatever, I'm not partial. On the rocks, though."

He serves you and pours his own drink before setting the bottle down and leaning on the bar on his elbows in front of you.

"So tell me about you," Juice presses softly. He can tell by your fingers circling the rim of your glass that you're not excited for this conversation but he has no choice. "You said you've been here for a few weeks, where'd you live before?"

"Nevada, mostly," you tell him before sipping on your drink. "My mother moved us around a couple times and we lived in Colorado for a while before eventually settling in Sparks."

"Why'd you guys move around?"

You drain the rest of your drink quickly in hopes it'll support you through this conversation. Juice begins to refill your glass without being asked.

"I didn't know it then, but my mom was running from the Sons," you confess.

Juice's eyes widen slightly as he looked you over. What could you know about the club? They were notorious around Charming sure, but with their recent run ins with the ATF has the club struggling and making choices they wouldn't normally make.

You continue, "It wasn't until I graduated high school and I left that she told me my dad was actually alive. Then she told me about the Sons of Anarchy, and everything else I did on my own."

Juice nods, unsure of what to say. He nurses his drink for a moment before reaching for your hand.

"This life is complicated, but we're a family here."

The gesture, simple as it is, riles up all the pent up feelings you've mastered all your life comes rushing forward as tears brim your eyes.

"Family," you repeat and pull your hand from Juice to wipe your tears. "What a weird concept?"

The two of you talk well into the evening and you end up migrating to the couch with a bottle and a large bowl of buttery popcorn. Juice made good company. He's genuine, gunny, and from the way he talks you can tell the Sons are something special to him.

He tells you about himself in turn for the vulnerable information you've given him. You learn he was born and raised in New York before coming to Charming, and he has a little sister behind in the city. Juice tells you he works in the TM garage alongside what he does for the club.

"I'm not stupid," you tell him once you notice his hesitance. "It's not hard to find information on the club from the locals around here."

He chuckles softly, "Yeah, I'm sure. If you have any questions, you can ask me."

Before you can the rumbling of bikes coming into the TM parking lot distracts you. Instinctively you grabbed Juice's hand, but let go just as fast as you'd grabbed him. Luckily before he can say anything the door bursts open and income more Sons.

The first is a younger blond man with piercing blue eyes and you notice the President patch on his left. He greets Juice happily before his eyes look to you, and he looks confused but seemingly brushes it off and goes to the bar.

Your dad walks in near arm in arm with another handsome man with scarred cheeks, obviously older than he is in the polaroid you own, but otherwise he seems the same. Its as if he can feel your gaze as he turns to meet his blue eyes to your own.

You stand, trying to ignore the thumping of your heart in your chest. "Hi, Tig," you greet, silently cursing the waver in your voice. Immediately the polaroid is out of your back pocket and in your hand. "My name's Y/n, and my mom's Y/m/n."

He takes the polaroid from you without a word and holds it carefully in his hands. His friend has stepped away towards Juice, likely for questioning.

"I saw Unser earlier today," you continue on. "He told me that I have a grave here in Charming, so does mom. Funny, considering she always told me you were the dead one."

You take a shaky breath in, trying to keep from bursting into tears. "I just... I wanted you to know I'm not dead, very much alive. I don't, like, expect anything from you I just knew I had to say something."

Tig finally breaks away from the polaroid to meet your eyes again, and it makes you feel a bit better to see his blue eyes are as tear filled as your own.

He raises one hand to cup your cheek, thumb moving to wipe your tears. "Losing you was the worst pain of my life," he admits softly.

His words crumble your resolve, the walls you'd spent your adolescence building to protect yourself fell faster than they were constructed. You practically fall into his arms, and the two of you break down as you hold each other.

As you sob into Tig's chest he merely cradles you the way he wishes he'd been able to all these years. The way he deserved to have been there for you. He holds you tight against him like he's afraid you'll dissipate and it'll be decades before he sees you again.

"We're gonna be okay, baby," he tells you. "We're gonna be okay."

This time, he's not going to be letting you go so easy.

[somethinginthewayiam]

Wrong number

pairing: Chibs Telford x plus-size reader

words: 2884

warnings: there is 18+ content throughout (minors DNI), taking racy seflies, creepy Tig (is there any other kind?)

a/n: this is another fun, light-hearted chapter. I'm sure I'll come back to this story, but for now this is the last update of this story. Enjoy!

Summary: You're bored out of your mind on a day off and decided to take some sexy selfies and send them to Chibs. When he didn't react, you visit him in the ice cream shop to see what's up and quickly realize your mistake...

link to my masterlist and previous parts

After spending all your time and energy on getting Redwoody production up and running, Lyla basically forced you to take a day off. And now you were sitting on your couch, bored off your ass. You already did the dishes, washed two loads of laundry and vacuumed your whole apartment and it was only 10 AM. The TV was on in the background but there was nothing on that you liked.

You lay on the couch with your feet up on the backrest and your head hanging down like you did when you were a kid.

You grabbed your phone and started taking some selfies with weird faces, trying filters. When you looked at them, you noticed how a good part of your boobs peaked out the top of your shirt because of gravity.

You moved back up on the couch, laying down horizontally. You were bored, you felt cute, so you started to take some racy selfies with your shirt pulled up, exposing your bra. Then you got a little braver and pulled the cups of your bra down, taking some more pictures.

You looked through them and you didn’t know what it was, but on a whim, you sent them to Chibs’ phone, giggling in anticipation. You waited for a little while but there was no response. You were sure he was just busy but you were still a bit mad at him that he didn’t text back or call. You knew the old man wasn’t big on texting but you’ve sent him your boobs, for God’s sake.

You decided that you needed to get out of the house, so you might as well do some shopping. Money was, as always, a little tight but you could still do some window shopping.

You decided to park your car at the ice cream shop and check if Chibs was there. He better was elbow deep in some shit, having a good reason not to react to your pictures.

As soon as you stepped out of your car, you caught a glimpse of your man sitting on the counter, his feet up on the stools in front of him. He had a newspaper in his hand and his reading glasses rested on the bridge of his nose. “That little fucker”, you mumbled to yourself as you slammed the car door shut.

You walked over to the shop door and a little bell announced your arrival when you opened it. “Hey, stranger”, you greeted him as you walked towards him. “Hey, lass”, he said, when he spotted you. He took off his reading glasses and put them down along with the newspaper next to him. “Hey Chucky”, you greeted him as well as he walked out from behind the counter and over to the tables to clean them with a dishtowel.

Chibs leaned over for a kiss and you leaned out of his way. He looked at you irritated as he pulled back.

“Where have you been all morning?”, you asked as you leaned against the counter with your hip next to him after putting your purse on it.

“Busy”, he stated, resting his elbows on his knees. “Too busy to text back?”, you asked, raising an eyebrow and crossing your arms in front of your chest.

“What text?”, he asked in return. “The pictures. A bunch of pictures”, you explained. “What pictures?”, he asked again, shaking his head confused.

“The pictures I sent you this morning”, you sighed. You were getting a little annoyed with him. You knew he didn’t like to text but you figured he could open messages. You literally saw him do it several times.

“What pictures?”, he asked again. You groaned and looked up at the ceiling for a moment.

“The ones with my boobs out, old man”, you lowered your voice and leaned in. “I didn’t get any pictures”, he shook his head. “Wait, did you say with your boobs out?”, he looked at you with big eyes. “Yeah, I thought you would like that”, you pouted and ran your finger up and down his forearm. “I sure would, but I didn’t get ya pictures”, Chibs said and lightly bumped his shoulder against yours, catching a glimpse down the front of your shirt.

“That’s weird. I sent them to the last number you called me from”, you told him, starting to chew your bottom lip as you tried to find your mistake.

“Fuckin’ hell”, he called out and threw his head back, looking up at the ceiling. “What?”, you asked alarmed.

“That’s Tig’s phone. He’s using this burner right now”, he explained. “What?!”, you blurted out and looked at him with big eyes.

“Hello, lovely”, Tig came into the shop from upstairs just at this moment and he had a weird smile on when he spotted you. “Good god!”, you said when you saw his face and hid your own behind your hands, feeling the blood rushing to your cheeks already.

“Hey! Delete those pictures”, Chibs ordered him and got off the counter. Tig put his hands up in a defensive motion.

“I can do that, but they’re already saved in the old file cabinet up here”, he said and pointed at his head.

“Also, already wanked one out to them. Very nice. You’re a lucky fellow, Chibby”, he said and patted Chibs’ shoulder as he walked past him. He stopped in front of you and grabbed your hand to press a kiss on the back of it. “My lady”, he said and made way too intense eye-contact with you. “Bite me”, you said and pulled your hand from his. “Honestly, I’d love nothing more”, he said.

“Cut it out, ya asshole”, Chibs playfully shoved him away from you. “She’s mine”, he said, grabbed your face and kissed you. You were a bit startled at first and it took your breath away. You put your hands on his sides, stabilizing yourself as his kiss was making you dizzy.

“Alright, alright, we got it”, Tig yelled, grabbed the dishtowel from Chucky’s shoulder and threw it at you. Chibs didn’t let that irritate him. His lips moved over to one of his favorite spots, your neck.

You felt him sucking on your skin again. You slapped the back of his head and pulled away. “God, Chibs, stop marking me. Are you an animal?”, you asked, giggling and rubbing over that part of your skin.

“Ya should know that by now, luv”, he taunted as he leaned over to you, trying to steal himself another kiss. You dove away from him and pushed his head to the side, playful yet determined.

“I’ll delete those pictures off his phone, I promise”, he comforted you by rubbing your upper arms. “You better if you ever wanna see the real ones again”, you poked his chest.

“Hey, I didn’t send them to him. That’s on you”, he told you and poked right back. You swatted his hand away. “Well, I can’t keep track with your guys’ burner carrousel. That’s still on you”, you told him with a frown.

“Tig”, Chibs called out and turned around to his brother. “You better give me that phone. Right now”, he told him and put his hands on his hips. Tig looked a little hesitant before he finally handed over his burner with a frown.

Chibs grabbed it and flipped it open. He started going into the messages and opened one picture after the other. “Whoa”, he mentioned when he went through them. “I thought you were deleting them?”, you asked as you watched him, a smirk forming on your face. “I need to open them to delete them”, he answered, his eyes glued to the phone screen. “We both know that’s not true, boomer”, you retorted and snapped the phone from his hands.

“Hey!”, he called out, trying to get the phone back. “I wasn’t done”, he said. You marked all the pictures and deleted them. “Don’t act like you don’t know how they look”, you commented. “Or feel”, you added with a grin. “Here, all gone”, you gave him back the phone.

“Tig”, Chibs said and when he turned around, threw the phone over to him. “I don’t want it anymore”, Tig whined and put it on the counter before getting himself a beer from the fridge. “You’ll live, Tiggy”, Chibs told him and you shook your head at this weird guy.

“How’s your day off, lass?”, Chibs asked. “I’m bored out of my ass. That’s how the stupid idea of the pictures came about”, you told him. “The pictures weren’t stupid. Just the execution���, he shrugged. “Can you stop?”, you slapped his arm but a laugh escaped your lips.

“If you’re bored, you want some company?”, Chibs put his arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his side. “I thought you were busy”, you mentioned and looked up at your favorite Scotsman.

“I was busy. Now I have all the time in the world for you”, he told you. “Wanna go shopping with me? I could use a sugar daddy”, you told him with a wink and a smile. “I was thinking more along the lines of recreating these pictures”, he suggested.

“Ugh, fine. But if I don’t get new clothes, I’ll have nothing to wear”, you told him. “Now ya catching my drift”, he said and pulled you in for a kiss with his arm.

“You gotta be kidding me!”, you called out in surprise. “What?”, you heard Chibs from the bedroom and stepped out of the enclosed bathroom. You had just taken a shower after some fun time with Chibs and had put on a pair of pajama shorts and a loose-fitting, low-cut tank top.

“I just found my first grey hair”, you said and held it up with a pout. “That’s what’s dealing with these buffoons get ya. Look at my hair”, he said and gestured at his head of salt-and-pepper hair. Chibs was sitting with his back against the headboard, back in his boxer shorts, flipping through one of the magazines you had on your nightstand, his reading glasses on his nose. You threw the hair in the trash and walked over to the bed.

“But you pull it off”, you told him, got up on the bed and straddled his hips. “Yeah?”, he smirked at you and put the magazine on the nightstand on his side. “Oh yeah”, you nodded and bit down on your bottom lip, running you fingers through his hair.

You felt his arms wrapping around your back and pulling you closer to him. As a reaction, you ground your hips into his and moved your hands down to his neck, your thumbs resting beneath his ears on either side.

“You know I’d love to, darlin’, but you gotta give me a longer break than a little 10 minutes shower”, he said and patted your barely covered ass. “I know, I’m just teasing you”, you told him, kissed his lips and moved off of him to get settled on your side. It was still weird to you that Chibs had his regular side in your bed.

At the beginning of this, you never thought he would spend more than two or three nights at your place if it even lasted that long. And now he came over as much as he could, spending almost every night in your bed when he wasn’t on the road with the MC.

You reached over to your nightstand and grabbed the hand lotion. As you squirted some in your hand, a big blob came out. “Shit, that’s too much”, you said to yourself. “Do you want some?”, you asked Chibs and held out your hand. He had picked up the magazine again.. “Thanks, I rather not smell like…”, he said and picked up the little bottle you had dropped in your lap, “lavender. Maybe I start using this stuff when they start making it smell like Jameson”, he continued and dropped that bottle back in your lap.

“I’m surprised it doesn’t already exist in Scotland”, you said with a chuckle and started to spread the lotion on your hands and up your forearms. Since it was still too much, you put the rest of it on your upper chest and the swell of your breasts.

“I know what ya doin’ and it’s not fair”, he complained and when you looked over, found him watching you lotion your breasts. “You didn’t wanna help me, now live with it”, you countered.

When you were done, you put the bottle of lotion back on your nightstand, grabbed one of the other magazines and rested against the headboard as well.

Chibs reached over and put his hand on your thigh, just resting it there while he kept reading an article. You looked at his hand, then him and back to your magazine. These domestic vibes that he was giving you right now made your stomach flutter.

Could life with Chibs really look like this? Was that a real possibility or was it just a little bubble you had created that could burst at any second? You didn’t want to think too much about it but that flutter already started to turn into full on butterflies.

A few days later, when you were working the bar at Diosa again, some of the Sons stopped by, including Chibs.

“Hey baby”, you said as you bent over the counter of the bar and kissed him. “Hey, darlin’. Looking good”, he complimented you.

“Come with me for a second, I wanna show you something”, you said and nodded towards the wall across the entrance next to the hallway that led to the private rooms. You walked around the counter and grabbed his hand to pull him with you.

“We got some new art”, you said and pointed at a collection of black and white pictures of women’s body parts in a group of four frames.

“Nice”, he said with a nod as his eyes wandered over the pictures. “Anything look familiar?”, you asked with your arms crossed beneath your breasts and bumped your hips gently into his side. “What ya mean?”, he looked over at you, furrowing his brows. You pushed your breasts up a bit with your arms, accentuating your cleavage and looking demonstratively at the wall of pictures again.

“I don’t…”, Chibs said, looking a bit lost.

“Hey, your tits are on the wall”, Tig came over and put an arm around your shoulders. “Hands off me, Trager”, you threw his arm off by a roll of your shoulders. “Wait, these are yours?”, Chibs pointed at the upper right picture, showing a tasteful depiction of two well-rounded breasts in a white lace bra. No nipples, that was your request.

“Yeah. I’m actually a little offended that you don’t recognize them after the many times you buried your face in there”, you pouted at him. “I’d happily burry my face in there anytime”, Tig said while still staring at the picture of your breasts on the wall. “A definite no to that”, you answered and rolled your eyes at him.

“Hey, take that off”, Chibs stepped forward, trying to reach the picture frame. “Yeah, and give it to me, I’ll gladly take that home after you guys deleted my other pictures”, Tig chimed in. “Shut up, Tig”, you and Chibs said at the same time.

“You leave that up there, mister”, you swatted Chibs’ hand away. “I won’t have my woman up there on the wall for everyone to gawk at”, he countered. “That’s not your choice to make. They are my boobs and I decide where they go and who sees them”, you said. Tig cleared his throat behind you. “Apart from one mistake”, you said and turned towards him, “that will NEVER happen again”, you said directly to Tig.

“Also, when we snapped the pictures, I made some specially for you”, you said with a lower voice and let your finger wander over his chest seductively. “Oh yeah?”, he asked, putting on a different tone, sounding intrigued. “Oh yeah”, you nodded with big eyes and a sly smile on your face.

“Who exactly is we, by the way?”, he asked and the expression on his face changed in a second. “One of Nero’s girls, she is a great photographer, actually”, you told him. “And was she also in her underwear?”, Tig’s face appeared over your shoulder. “Get outta here”, Chibs called out and shoved him away with a hand on his face.

“Baby, the only thing these guys in here get from me is a drink and a smile, if they tip well”, you winked at him and linked your arm with his. “Now be a good biker, let me get you a beer and then I’ll show you the other pictures of me before you get the real thing”, you told him and lowered your voice with every word until it was only a seductive whisper, leading him towards the bar.

You walked behind the bar, grabbed a bottle of beer and opened it. Nero came by the bar just as you handed the beer to Chibs and grabbed his other hand. “I’m taking my 10, boss”, you told him. “Make that 20”, Chibs corrected and followed you to one of the rooms in the back.

[mysticalmallard]

Lonely Nights

Description: Tig is struggling, and she knows he is but he hates these conversations and will do anything to distract her from them.

Word count: 2,470

Warnings ⚠️: Angst, suggestive wording alluding to smutty things but nothing graphic. But I am still gonna mark this post as 18+ MDNI

SoA Taglist: @arkytiorlecter @aimkatsz @ravennaortiz @darqchilddaydreamz @mischiefnevermanaged89-blog @hatersaremymotivators @theshynerdsworld

♥︎ If you wish to be added or removed from this taglist comment or message me ♥︎

SoA Masterlist 🌸 Main Masterlist

Tig and his girlfriend lay in bed, struggling to get a descent nights rest. Tig stares up at the ceiling with one hand wrapped snuggly around her bare waist. She slowly turns on her side to face Tig, a sign she was still awake too.

"What's on your mind, Darlin' ?" Tig runs his fingers gently down her side in a soothing manner he knows that helps her relax.

"I can't sleep." She says softly, her voice still rasp from the lack of use. She lays her head on his chest, listening to his rhythmic heart beat.

"I've noticed" He responds, his large hand wrapping around her body and pulling her closer.

She sighs and nestles her head into the crook of his neck. He runs his fingers through her hair, massaging her scalp. "You worried about something?" He breaks the silence as he continues to soothe her.

"I'm worried about you." She looks up at him from her spot on his chest, her head resting on her arm that is placed against him.

He turns his attention to her, a surprised look on his face. "Me?" He almost laughs.

"Yeah..." she sighs "things at the club are crazy right now and you are barely home anymore.....and since...Donna....you know the way she died....I'm just worried about you.." she whispers wanting to get her point across without upsetting him.

Tig sighs and leans forward to place a tender kiss at the top of her head. "Ain't nothing gonna happen to me doll. I'm fine." He leans back against the pillow and pulls her closer once more.

"Please don't give me that." She rolls her eyes at his nonchalance. "I haven't seen you in almost a month. You look like you've barely been sleeping, I can see the bags under your eyes, and God only knows how much you've been drinking. I'm really worried Tiggy"

Tig looks down at her, a look of annoyance crossing his face. "You sound like my mother right now." He says with a hint of distaste in his voice. "Please, just let it go."

"No...I'm not going to let it go. You aren't looking good and I'm worried you're going to get yourself hurt or...." She trails off, not wanting the words to actually come out of her mouth, afraid of speaking it into existence.

Tig's eyes soften at her tone. He knows she was worried, but he was fine, damn it all. He tightens his grip around her waist, rolling her to her back while he holds himself over her body."I'm fine, Darlin' ," he says in a tone she knows is only meant for her. He leans down close to her ear, his breath hot on her neck. "Stop worryin' so much...you're gonna go grey before ya hit thirty."

She lets out a shaky breath at the feeling of his breath on her skin. She gently rests her hands on his shoulders while he peppers light kisses along her neck. "Stop trying to distract me." She responds, her voice soft.

"It's working, ain't it?" He asks in between kisses, his hands gently roam her body. "Besides, I'd rather do this than talk about all the crap that's going on." He leaves a slight bite to her sensitive skin, her gasp only encouraging him.

"Well, I-" Her mind goes blank as his kisses make their way across her collarbone and onto her chest. He knew damn well what this did to her and he was using it to his full advantage.

His touch is gentle but firm against her skin as his hands roam her body, exploring every inch of her body he could in this moment. The room is filled with her soft gasps and sighs, her fingers lightly tracing his shoulders and arms as he makes his way slowly down her body.

He smirks against her skin as her hands find their way into his hair, pulling softly to coax the sound of a quiet moan from his lips. All her worries seemed to melt away when he touched her like this, but she still couldn't shake the feeling in the back of her mind.

His lips continue their gentle assault down her body until he reaches her stomach. He kisses her hips before going lower and leaving a trail of kisses on her inner thighs. She moans when his lips meet the sensitive skin and he grins between kisses.

She's now a panting mess and every worry she previously held was gone the moment he started touching her. One of her hands grips the sheets while the other still held tightly to his hair.

He continues his slow, languid kisses, enjoying every soft moan and gasp that escapes her lips. This was a good way to distract her, he thinks to himself. Her mind was far too occupied to think about anything else.

He takes his time in leaving his mark, knowing she wouldn't complain about any of the possessive love bites he would leave in her body. He could never get enough of the way she fell apart in his hands, completely at his mercy.

The only coherent thought she seemed to be able to keep in her head is the thought of how damn good he was at this. His mouth and hands worked in perfect harmony against her skin, sending her into a dizzying whirlwind of pleasure.

He could feel the way her thighs trembled under his touch and how her breathing was uneven and ragged. His own breathing grew heavy and she could feel the way the quiet moans vibrated against her skin.

He continues his gentle assault until she is left writhing beneath his touch, her eyes squeezed shut as the first wave of pleasure takes over her body. He places gentle kisses on the inside of her thighs as she slowly comes down from her high.

He moves back up to her side and pulls her against his body, holding her tightly against his chest. He tucks her head under his chin and wraps his arms around her. His fingers trace soothing patterns across her skin and gently pulls the sheets up and over their bodies.

She nestles her face into the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent. As she starts to come back down to reality, the worries flood her mind again. Tig feels her tense in his arms, knowing what she was thinking about again.

"I can hear ya thinkin', Darlin'," He murmurs into her hair. His hand continues to move gently up and down her back.

"Can't help it," she says softly, her head still tucked under his chin. It was like a switch flipped and reality came back in full force. "I just...I worry about you. And...I worry about us."

Tig's grip tightens at her words, and his fingers stop their gentle patterns. "What do you mean you worry about us?" He asks, a hint of unease to his voice.

She lifts her head so she can look up at him, her lips slightly parted. "Everything is so chaotic with the club right now. You barely have any time to yourself and when you do, you come home either hurt, exhausted, or both. You barely eat or sleep at home and I'm worried you're going to get yourself killed. And on top of all of that, we barely spend any time together anymore." She says the last line quietly.

Tig's heart aches at her words, a pain in his chest as he stares down at her small form pressed against him. She was right, he knew she was. But she also knew the club came first. "Doll', you knew when we started dating I came in a package deal. The Sons come first, you know that."

"I know...and I'm fine with that, really I am" she sighs looking down tracing circles on his chest trying to find the best way to word it. "I guess I thought there would still be some time set aside for us...for you....I know its not realistic to have a fixed schedule and that you could be needed at any moment...but you deserve a day atleast..." she mumbles eyes down.

Hearing her say he deserves a day made his heart throb in his chest. He gently cups her face in his hand and guides her eyes up to his. "Darlin'...you know I-" he stops in the midst of his rebuttal as he sees the way her face looked. It was a mix of frustration, worry, and....sadness.

"I'm not asking you to set aside time every week, don't get me wrong." She sighs, her voice still a soft whisper. "But you're still human, you need to eat and sleep more than two hours a night. I just want you to...take care of yourself more. Be a little more careful with yourself." She says softly, her eyes pleading.

Looking into her eyes, he feels like he's looking into a wounded animal. She was worried about him, she genuinely didn't want anything to happen to him. He sighs and pulls her flush against his body once more, resting his forehead against hers. "You know I can't make any promises, Darlin'."

Her eyes close as he pulls her body against his, but a slight pang of hurt shoots through her. "I don't care if you make a promise, I just want you to try." She whispers, a desperate, pleading edge to her tone.

He winces at the tone in her voice. Damn it, he hated when she used that tone. He didn't want to worry her, but how could he make promises that he couldn't keep? "I-" he pauses for a moment, trying to find the right words. "I will try, okay? I'll fucking try, Doll'..." he says so softly she almost thinks she imagined it.

He opens his mouth to say more but his phone ringing interrupted him. He picks it up from the side table, they both recognise the number flashing on the screen.

Tig glances down at her to gauge her reaction knowing full well what the number meant. He had to leave now. He knew he did, but God damn he didn't want to.

He answers the phone anyway.He gives a simple "Yeah," to whoever is on the other end of the line. His gaze doesn't leave hers, but a guilty look is plastered across his face. He knows he's about to ruin her night again, it happens far too often now.

She's watching him with a hint of desperation and sadness in her eyes, already knowing the conversation will end the way it normally does. With him leaving.

As the person on the end of the line responds, Tig reluctantly tears his eyes away from her and glances at the clock. "I'll be there in twenty." He says before hanging up.

His heart clenches as he looks back at her, knowing exactly what she's thinking. This is how it always is: him getting a call at night and having to leave, leaving her in bed, alone, after she just poured her heart out to him. "Darlin'...I'm—" He stops mid sentence and sighs. It was pointless to even try to justify it, she knew the club came first.

She says nothing, sitting up off of him pulling the sheets to cover her chest....pausing looking up at him a small frown on her face "Ride safe, yeah?" She whispers with a small forced smile on knowing there was nothing she could say to make him stay.

Tig sighs as she sits up, knowing she's trying to push her feelings aside for now. "Yeah." He says, his eyes never leaving her's. It felt like a knife to the gut seeing her trying to pretend to be okay in this moment. "I'll be back before you know it." He tries to soothe her nerves but he knows it's pointless.

He sits up now too and turns away from her, his bare feet meeting the cool wooden floor. He stands and quickly grabs a pair of jeans from the dresser and pulls them on before grabbing a t-shirt and his socks. He gets dressed as quickly as possible, knowing he didn't want to draw this out any longer.

Once he's fully dressed he turns his attention back to her, still sitting on the bed looking so small and vulnerable. The sight makes his heart ache but he pushes the feeling down and moves back to her. He cups her face in his hands and gently kisses her forehead, feeling her body tense under his touch.

"I'm sorry, Darlin'." He whispers as he continues to hold her face in his hands. He sees the sadness in her eyes, the loneliness, and it hurts him to know he was the cause of it. He gently kisses her forehead again before moving his hands away from her face. She doesn't say a word, just continues to look at him, the hint of a lonely frown evident on her face.

He sighs and turns away, glancing at the clock on the bedside table once more. "I gotta go." He says finally, though it pains him to say the words. He hates leaving her like this, but he had a job to do and the club was waiting for him.

He moves around the foot of the bed and to the bedroom door, not stopping to look back at her knowing he'd lose his will to leave. He pushes the bedroom door open and walks through it, pausing in the small hallway for just a moment. His heart is in his throat and it feels like he's about to choke on it but he says the line he always does and he does it as gently as he can. "Don't wait up, Darlin'."

She waits until the sound of his bike completely faded out, and the silence of the night returned before she allowed herself to let her tears fall. She held them in as he got dressed and left, but now that she was left in the quiet of the house, alone, she couldn't stop them anymore.

She curled up in the bed, pulling the covers tightly around her body to try and seek comfort from the absence of Tig now. The quiet sobs shook her body and her tears soaked the pillow under her head and face.

The situation they were in was an endless cycle; he would leave, she would be alone and sad, he would come home, a short amount of time would be set aside for 'them' and then they would be on a timer until the next time he had to leave. It was the same cycle over, and over, and over again, and if something didn't change soon, she had a feeling it was the beginning of the end for them.

[bullet-prooflove]

Welcome Home - Alexander 'Tig' Trager x Reader (NSFW)

Tagging: @crazy4chickennuggets @kmc1989 @oureternalbond @mortal--soul @yourwinchesterbros @thatonesexycancerian @chaoticqueenie98 @purrrrfect @wakeama @buddinglinguist @spookyboogyuniverse @nessamc @theeyesofthestag @thanossexual @anime-weeb-4-life @redpoodlern @ravencrow83 @nu1freakshow @the-wandering-lunatic @lexondeck @adaydreamaway08 @goblinenby @fanfic-n-tabulous @just-a-girl-who-wrytes @ankhmutes @@dakotapaigelove @keyweegirlie @crimeshowjunkie @theplacewhereallthedemonsgo @belovedbastardremus @trublu2u @thebaileybugle @spngingerbread21 @tragerlover @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @multiflixshelves @luvvstvrkeyy

Part of the Crazy Fucked Up Love Arc:

Crazy, Fucked Up Kind of Love - Tig discovers your secret.

Not Leaving: - Tig tells you he's not leaving.

Show You - Tig shows you how beautiful you really are.

Tig comes home with a bullet wound in his shoulder. It’s already healing by the time he makes it back to the house he shares with you. Your fingertips play over the ragged edges as he stands in the bedroom shirtless after the shower he’s taken from the long ride. It’s been a couple of weeks since he’s been home, he’s been taking care of business up in San Berdino, helping streamline the progress of getting out of the gun trade.

“It was an in-house problem.” He tells you as your lips brush over the curve of his throat and it sends a deviant thrill running though him.  

He wraps his arms around you, drawing you into his lap as he comes to sit on the edge of the bed. Your thighs straddle his hips, your hand threading through his unruly curls, gripping them tightly before you tug his head back.

“You need to be more careful.” You say, your breath ghosting in his ear. “We have a baby on the way, he’s going to want to meet his daddy.”

“Hm.” He mutters, his palms coming to rest on the small baby bump that settles in the space between you. “Say it again.”

There’s a fierce sense of pride when he hears that term. His son is growing inside of you, happy and healthy. He didn’t imagine himself becoming a father again at fifty but he’s the happiest he’s ever been and it’s all because of you,

“Daddy.” You whisper against his lips. His lips curve up into a smile.

God he’s missed you, the feel of you, the press of your skin. His lips trail along the line of your jaw until he finds that sweet spot, the one that takes you zero to sixty.

“Oh baby, you have no idea how much I fantasied about you while I was away.” He murmurs against your skin, his fingers grasp the hem of your shirt, guiding it up above your head. “I jerked off every night imagining how good it feels when I’m inside of you.”

His palms cup your breasts, thumbs teasing over your nipples through the fabric of your bra, bringing them to attention.

“Fuck, I missed these tits.” He murmurs, his lips trailing over the curve of your chest before his teeth graze that needy nub. It draws a curse from your throat because the pregnancy it makes everything a lot more sensitive. You grind against his cock; the fabric from his pyjama bottoms rubbing over the tip of his dick making it leak.

“Need you baby.” He mutters unfastening your bra before he tossing it across the room. “Been too long.”

He tugs off your maternity trousers, drawing them down your legs carefully before he shoves down his own, his dick springing to attention. You smile as you straddle his lap, his palms coming to rest on your hips as he guides you into place. He notches his cock at your entrance, arching just slightly so that your wetness coats the head of his dick. Your fingers dig into his shoulders as he teases you, your lips brushing over his.

“Please.” You whisper.

That one little word it breaks his resolve.

He eases into you slowly and it feels like coming home, like he’s in the exact place he’s supposed to be. You sigh at the sensation like it’s everything you’ve ever needed, your head tipping back, hair falling across your shoulders.

You’re fucking beautiful, the most gorgeous thing he’s ever seen and you’re his.

A crazy, fucked up outlaw like himself couldn’t ask for anything more.

His arm loops around your waist, drawing you even closer. He needs the intimacy right now, needs to be as close as he possibility can because that time apart from you, it almost broke him. He’s been protective since you’ve gotten pregnant, the world hasn’t been kind to him, and he’s terrified that all of this could be snatched away. He wants to be here as much as he can, for you and for the baby.

You moan into his mouth, your fingers tangling in his hair as he thrusts up into you. He makes love to you with long, punctuated strokes, his cock raking over perfect little spot deep inside of you.

“Harder.” You murmur, your teeth grazing his lower lip. “Show me how much you’ve missed me.”

You ruin him with this shit.

He fucks you like he means it, like you’re the only woman in the world and you love every second of it. He has you coming on his cock in minutes, that pretty pink flush creeping across your cheeks as you climax so loudly, he expects the neighbours to complain. His hand threads through your hair, guiding your gaze back to his as he looks at you with those electrifying blue eyes and a smile made of sin.

“Oh darlin,” He whispers against your lips. “Let’s see if I can make you do that again.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[speakviolence]

I wanna feel what it's like for you to be mine. I wanna be able to go anywhere any place with you being mine. Come on, baby. Why don't you just go get yourself cleaned up? Put on a pretty dress, put those flowers back in your hair. Because I wanna hear your lilt when you say my name. Because you are my sweet, my beautiful Venus.

Kim Coates as Alexander 'Tig' Trager and Walton Goggins as Venus Van Dam in Sons of Anarchy (2008-2014)

[dallianceangel]

Join In 🫦🥵

Enjoy 😏

🫦 comments, likes and reblogs are highly appreciated 🫦

You’re on the kitchen table, legs spread as Bobby’s head rests between your thighs, him sucking and licking at your clit. The pleasure is intense, and you moan softly.

The door swings open, and Tig walks in, eyes widening at the scene. “What’s going on in here?”

You look up, breathing erratically but managing to smile at him. “Tig, join in.”

Tig grins, stepping closer as he pulls down his pants, watching Bobby shift your position by helping you off the table and bending you over it, kneeling on the floor as he continues to suck and lick at your clit, finger fucking you as well. “No need to ask me twice.”

You gasp as Tig enters you from behind, adding a new layer of pleasure. “Holy fuck.”

The door opens again, and Chibs walks in. He takes in the sight, then approaches. “Room for one more, lass?”

You nod as you eagerly open your mouth, and Chibs enters you.

Your moans become louder, overwhelmed by the sensations from all three men. You were only too happy to oblige, enjoying every moment of this encounter, knowing that life is too short and you’ve just got to do crazy shit once in a while.

From a distance, Clay and Gemma walk out of their dorm room and into the bar area. Clay smirks, nudging Gemma having noticed the scene. “Looks like they’re having quite the time.”

Gemma looks shocked, shaking her head. “Oh, Jesus. I hope they clean up the kitchen afterwards.”

Moments after Clay and Gemma exit the clubhouse, pleasure overwhelms you, and you let out a cry as you squirt, the sensation hitting you hard.

[brunettemarionette]

"Dibs," Tig calls out as he starts walking towards you. The other guys grab him back, and they all start to argue over not being able to call dibs on this.

Unknown to them, an oblivious Opie who had been under a car was walking towards you with a friendly smile on his face. Clearly, he hadn't heard their squabbling.

Happy smacks the back of his hand against Jax's kutte as he motions with his head. They all turn to see you laughing at something Opie is saying.

"may the best man win…" Jax says quickly, making his way over as the others follow, trying to shove and knock each other down to get to you first.