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fanficimagery · 2 years ago

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La Loba

When Tara up and left Charming all those years ago- the town, Jax and the club weren't the only things left behind. She left you, her baby sister.

Words: 5.2K Author's Note: Sons of Anarchy AU. Crossover with Mayans. Trigger Warning for brief mentions of sexual assault.

When Tara left Charming all those years ago, you had only been fifteen. She left you with your drunk of a father, but Jax Teller and his mother Gemma quickly stepped in to look after you. However, when your uncle checked in one day, he didn't like what you had to say about your living situation. So as quick as he could, he managed to get custody of you and whisked you away to Texas.

For years you longed to be back in Charming, calling Jax every weekend you could to hear about what was going on there because, though he and your sister were broken up, you still looked up to him as your big brother. But until you graduated, as you were continuously reminded by your uncle and Jax, there was nothing you could do. So, until you walked the stage and had your high school diploma in hand, you let yourself make some friends and have some fun while you were still young.

Jax, Opie and Gemma made the drive down to Texas to see you walk the stage, and then Gemma told you she already had living arrangements situated for you should you want to return to Charming. You did and you were immediately set up with a job at Teller-Morrow Automotive.

For the following couple of years, you worked your butt off keeping the garage running smoothly while Gemma made herself busy elsewhere. You became close to those within the Sons of Anarchy, keeping their secrets and helping out when asked as if you were a part of the club yourself. And if you asked any of the men, they'd say you were.

But then your sister came back to Charming, ruffling feathers within the club, and making you doubt your place with the Sons.

For as long as you can remember, Clay and Gemma were the parents you wished had been yours. But then they started to make questionable calls and you realized you had to take a step back and look at the bigger picture. It also didn't help that you had Tara whispering nothing but terrible things in your ear, but you did your best to not let her opinion cloud your judgment.

And just when you were coming to terms with everything again, AJ Weston happened.

Fortunately, you weren't sexually assaulted, but you were forced to watch them assault Gemma over and over before taking a beating that left you in the hospital for nearly a week. And through it all, your sister still tried to get you to cut ties with the club. Instead of listening, however, you pulled back into yourself and sought out Happy to teach you how to properly fight.

For a couple of years, you hardened yourself to become numb to anything and everything the club did, doing odd jobs here and there when they needed a face to blend in that wasn't male. You became the club's ace up their sleeve, much to your sister's displeasure, and did your best to stay afloat while Clay and Gemma spiraled out of control.

Life within the club became a clusterfuck- betrayal after betrayal and lie after lie piling up faster than anyone could keep up with. And in the end, several people paid the price. Piney, Bobby, Clay, Juice, Tara and Gemma. All dead.

Then when Jax took up the gavel, he thought for sure you wouldn't want anything to do with the club anymore. But the club had been a part of your life for the longest time and so long as he didn't follow in Clay's or his mother's footsteps, you were more than happy to continue being there for anything the Sons needed.

With Jax as President and Opie as Vice President, things within the charters along the West Coast were shaken up. No one wanted war or petty fights for past grievances, so many bridges were mended. One, most importantly, being that of the bridge between the Sons and the Mayans.

Jax, Opie, and Chibs are hosting a few Mayans when you walk in behind Happy, more than ready to shower and get to work behind the bar. But first, you needed to check in with Jax and with the others, letting them know how the night went. Happy takes a seat, smirking as all eyes fall on you. You figure you must look a sight- hair wavy from the two braids you had it in all day, a Reaper hoodie that's a size too big, ripped jeans and Doc Martens. Your hands grip tight to the straps of the backpack you're wearing, and you offer Jax a nod.

"Hey, sis." Jax slowly smirks. "You good?" You give him another nod. "You win?"

Happy scoffs as if he really needed to ask that, after all he trained you, and all eyes turn towards him. "They tapped her for two matches."

Jax's amusement suddenly clears, worry in his eyes. "Two?" He glances between you and Happy, the rest of the onlookers curious as to what's going on. "Why the fuck did they tap you for two?"

You roll your eyes and slip the straps of the backpack off your shoulders. Holding the bag with one hand, you unzip the bag with the other and pull out a ziplock bag of cash. Abel and Thomas' name is written on it in black sharpie, as well as the very obvious 5K. You toss the money into Jax's lap.

"Holy shit," Opie utters. "What the hell happened?"

You grin and glance at Happy so he can tell the story. "Her first opponent had a glass jaw. One hit and she was out. The crowd wasn't too happy, so the coordinator asked if she'd fight again. Her second opponent was a dude and a little harder to take down, but our girl had a lot of rage tonight. Brought home 15K."

One of the Mayans lowly whistles. "Damn, mami. There an underground fight club we don't know about?"

The Sons all seem to hold their breath as you glance at the Mayan in question, expression going lax as you take him in. He's handsome, really handsome, what with his groomed beard and all. His hair is shaved close to the sides while the top has some length to it. And slowly, but surely, you grin and shrug at him.

"Hey guys, this is my sister-in-law YN," Jax says, introducing you. "YN, this is Bishop, Angel (the one who had spoken to you) and EZ. Creeper's at the bar with Tig." You glance at each men, nodding and grinning in greeting as they give their hellos. "You should clean up before you get behind the bar," Jax then says, easily dismissing you.

"Ribs need to be checked out. Probably wrapped," Happy mentions.

"And that's my cue," Chibs says as he stands, finishing off the last of his beer. "Come on, lass, let's go get ye naked."

You roll your eyes as Happy and Opie laugh, Jax kicking out in hopes of landing a kick to his Scottish brother.

Everyone watches as Chibs leads YN down the hallway towards the dorms and then Jax is grabbing the money to tuck inside his kutte. "Excuse YN," he says. "She doesn't talk."

"Ever?" Angel asks. Bishop and EZ are quick to slap their brother, causing him to flinch and glare at each of them.

The Sons all chuckle.

"She used to be a chatterbox," Jax says, smiling. Slowly the expression melts away. "She got kidnapped alongside Gemma by Zobelle's crew."

"Shit," Bishop swears. "We heard about that."

"Was she.. you know," EZ asks, uncomfortable. Everyone knew what had happened to the ex-president's old lady and the rage that possessed him and her son when they found out. "That why she don't talk?"

"Nah." Opie shakes his head. "They made her watch as they assaulted Gemma though, and then beat her black and blue. Stopped talking after that. She will talk sometimes, but only to those she feels at ease around."

"The physical assault was just the beginning of it all; started closing herself off. But then when Gemma killed Tara.."

"Fuck, bro," Angel exhales in realization. "Your mother killed her sister?"

"Yeah." Jax takes a long pull of his beer. "YN felt deeply betrayed, looked up to my ma like she was her own. When we found out who killed Tara, YN begged me to let her deal with it. I almost didn't, but Unser stuck his nose in my business and put a tail on me. We came up with an alibi for YN and let her deal with Gemma as she saw fit."

"And did she?" Bishop wonders, stroking his salt-n-pepper beard.

Happy smirks. "She did. Took Gemma out the way Gemma took her sister out."

"Which was how?"

Jax gulps, but pushes through the conversation. "By stabbing Gemma repeatedly in the back of the head with a barbecue fork."

"And no one suspected it was her?" Angel asks, awed.

"Nah. She's our fly on the wall. Everyone thinks she's damaged goods and we don't correct them. No one suspects the mute girl to be gathering intel."

Bishop chuckles. "That's actually kind of genius."

The men all get back to drinking, listening to Happy describe YN's fight and the fact that she's not scheduled for another for another three months. She eventually comes back out, a tight long sleeve plaid shirt taking the place of the hoodie she first wore. Tig grabs her attention, introducing her to Creeper who she grins and nods at before serving up a few shots and taking one with the two men.

The following morning, you task the prospects and the lingering croweaters to clean up the clubhouse and have everything set up for a family breakfast before you get back with the food. And since you are the President's sister who has no urge to crawl into the lap of any Son, the croweaters readily get to work without any huffing and puffing.

Nearly half an hour later, you return to the clubhouse with bags of food. The normal round tables have been pushed aside and long rectangular tables have been brought out. Three pots of steaming coffee are sitting atop the bar, stacks of styrofoam cups, milk, creamer, and sugar placed next to them. You set the bags of food on the table, pulling out containers of barbacoa meat, beef and bean tamales that had been wrapped up in foil, a few containers of green hot sauce, a bag of cut up lemons, and a stack of still hot tortillas.

You send the prospects to start knocking on doors and waking the sleeping men before you head towards the refrigerator and pull yourself out two cans of Big Red soda. Then making your way back out to the tables in the middle of the clubhouse, you grab yourself a paper plate and start to serve yourself before the men make it nearly impossible to.

Surprisingly, most of the men are already awake and settle down around the table as you're assembling your tacos. You spread some barbacoa on a tortilla, squeeze a bit of lemon juice on the meat, then open up a bean tamale to lay atop the meat. Then you sprinkle some salt before spooning some greet hot sauce onto it all, bringing two sides of the tortilla together and taking a bite. You hum in appreciation and then crack open a can of soda before taking a sip of it.

As you glance around the table, you see the Mayans all staring at you, amusement clear in their expression.

"Damn, guera, you can throw down, huh?" Creeper muses.

You grin at him, heat flooding your cheeks before you avert your eyes back to your food. Slowly but surely, everyone starts to fill their plates. And when you fill your second taco, adding even more hot sauce than the first time, you happily eat the spicy goodness.

"I have a question," Angel says in between bites of his food. "How does a white girl throw down with barbacoa and hot sauce? None of these white boys will even look at the hot sauce."

Jax laughs. "When YN was fifteen and Tara left for college, their uncle swooped in and took YN to Texas. The uncle's wife is Hispanic and apparently breakfast tacos and Big Red was a staple there. Had it every Sunday morning and now we have it once a week here too."

"Well, if it's a staple down in Texas, now we gotta try it too," Angel says. He glances at you, winking. "Got any more of those sodas, princesa?"

You roll your eyes at the nickname, nodding. Quickly wiping your fingers off on a napkin, you stand up to go grab four more of your sodas for the men to try. And when you make it back to the table, you hand each Mayan a soda since the Sons were all coffee drinkers in the morning.

EZ and Angel like the soda drink, Creeper takes a few sips before deciding he likes it, and Bishop hands his can off to Angel after the first sip. It seems he preferred his coffee as well.

Once breakfast is over and Jax sends Chibs, Tig and Happy to work in the garage, you drag your feet over to the couch where Opie is sitting. There's plenty of space on the couch next to him, but you want a cuddle after stuffing yourself full of food. So as the men are talking, you crawl into his lap without a word, curling up there and hiding your face in the side of his neck. He merely lifts his arm to position it behind your back, used to this behavior by now.

"She good?" You hear someone ask.

You grin against Opie's neck and raise a hand, giving the room a thumb's up. He chuckles as he rubs your back. "She's fine. She likes to curl up on any available lap after eating so much."

"My lap was empty too, cariña. You could have-"

The sound of a slap resonates around the room which sends the men into a round of laughter, and when you pick your head up enough to see what's going on, Bishop is shaking his head at Angel who's rubbing the back of his head with a very disgruntled expression. You huff a laugh and go back to dozing on Opie.

The men continue to talk shop as Opie lulls you back to sleep, but then the shouting of a prospect makes you jerk back into consciousness. "Ope! Old Lady incoming."

The Mayans all fidget in their seats as a petite blonde marches into the clubhouse, heading straight towards your small group.

"Uhh.. should the girl be-"

Bishop's words trail off as Lyla comes up to Opie's side, leaning over you to press a kiss to her husband's mouth. You squirm in his lap, turning your head just enough to pucker your lips at Lyla. She laughs. "One of these days I'm actually going to kiss you and then what?" You shrug and wiggle your eyebrows. "I'll get you to finally take up our offer on that threesome sooner or later."

Your nose wrinkles and you immediately climb out of Opie's lap, scowling at her as you curl up on the opposite side of the couch. Lyla laughs and claims her husband's lap for herself as he says, "Come on, Ly. We all know white boys don't do it for SAMCRO's princess."

You narrow your eyes as Opie and Jax chuckle, chuckles turning into full blown laughter as Angel asks, "Yeah? That mean I'm still in the running then?"

"Jesus Christ," EZ mumbles, rubbing the space between his brows.

As you glance at Angel, you can't help the heating of your cheeks as he slowly smirks at you.

Lyla giggles as you blush under the stare of the Mayan and she reaches over to wrap her hand around your ankle. "I'm in a shopping mood. What do you say you go shower and we'll get out of the club's hair for a bit?"

You smile at her, grateful for the escape. But before you can get up, Jax says, "You'll need an escort. We're in good standing with everyone, but it'll give me some peace of mind."

"Don't send Tig. Or Happy," Lyla says.

"You can take EZ," Bishop speaks up, gesturing to the man in question. EZ looks so startled at being volunteered for protection detail that Creeper and Angel burst into laughter.

Glancing at EZ, you gauge his reaction to make sure he's okay with going. And when he catches you trying to size him up, he relaxes and nods. "I, uh, it's fine. Just as long as I don't have to hold anyone's purse."

His brothers continue to snicker as you flash him a grin, shaking your head in amusement. As you pass him, you squeeze his shoulder in thanks and then disappear down the hallway that leads to your dorm.

It takes you just about twenty minutes to shower and change into something suitable for the public, and then you're tossing your wallet, phone, and ID into a mini backpack that you readily strap to your back. You put on some sunglasses to shield your eyes from the intense brightness you know that awaits you outside the building, and then walk back out to the front. Clapping your hands, you grab Lyla and EZ's attention.

Jax, Bishop and Angel call out for the three of you to be careful, and then Lyla is telling EZ that you'll be driving over to Lodi since that was the only place close enough to do some decent shopping. He follows behind you and Lyla on his bike, and thankfully the drive is very short.

EZ eyes the boutique Lyla parks in front of with a critical eye and you grin at him. You were pretty sure he was expecting a mall with several stops at various clothing stores, but you and Lyla had a specific place where you did all your shopping. The owner was kind and courteous, and even pulled aside items she thought you and Lyla would like to try on, on days like today.

Walking into the spacious back room, you slip off your backpack and let it fall onto the couch that's there. EZ hesitantly takes a seat, and you smile at him, nodding that it's okay. The owner reappears within a couple of minutes, dragging two racks of clothing along with her. She tells you that she's got some shoes and accessories in as well, and Lyla tells her to bring anything and everything that she thinks they'll like. And when the owner warily glances at EZ, Lyla waves off her concern and tells her that Jax is just being a little protective this morning. She laughs and then leaves to bring back even more items.

As you go through one rack, you hear Lyla explaining to EZ that this is the only place you'll be shopping and that you'll grab lunch afterwards. And once you have a few items you want to try on in hand, you walk over to a smaller room and pull the curtain behind you so you can change in private. You and Lyla usually changed out in the open, but with EZ there you didn't want to make him uncomfortable.

The first outfit you try on are black faux leather pants that cling like a second skin, a white crop top that has two thin straps crisscrossing over your abdomen, and a cropped leather jacket. You walk out from behind the curtain and head straight for the small dais in front of a mirror, turning this way and that way to see whether or not you like it.

Lyla steps out from behind her curtain in her own outfit- a dress that leaves little to the imagination- and immediately, she says, "Yes! You're getting that outfit." You chuckle at her and then wiggle your foot for her to realize you need shoes. Her lips purse as she looks at the rack of shoes and then practically lunges for a pair of peep toe stilettos.

Shaking your head in amusement, you sit down to slip the shoes on the walk back to the dais.

"How do you girls even walk in shoes like that?" EZ asks. "I'd probably break a bone. Or three."

You meet his gaze in the mirror, smirking.

"Lots and lots of practice," Lyla answers for the both of you.

For the next hour, EZ endures outfit change after outfit change. He can't seem to comprehend how many items of clothing you and Lyla have tossed into your buy pile, but he doesn't utter a peep.

The last outfit in your pile is a pair of dark washed jean shorts, a black distressed tank top with the phases of the moon on the front of it, and a thin cream-colored cardigan whose hem falls just past your butt. When you walk out, you immediately head for a pair of dark gray suede ankle booties and zip them on before showing Lyla the final product.

"Yes."

When you glance at EZ, you catch him staring at your thigh. More specifically, the tattoo that nearly takes up your entire thigh of a howling wolf head and the full moon right behind it. "That's some detailed ink you got there."

You glance at Lyla and she smirks at you, nodding- encouraging you to finally speak. When Jax told the Mayans you were mute, he wasn't lying. He just failed to mention that it is selective mutism and you could speak when you were comfortable enough. And after spending these last couple of hours with EZ and Lyla, you've become comfortable. "La loba."

EZ's head snaps up at the sound of your voice, meeting your gaze as you offer him a small smile. "She-wolf?" He asks.

You subtly gulp. "It's what they.. call me in the ring."

"She's a vicious little thing when fighting," Lyla says. "It's brutal and fucking fantastic."

"Yeah?" The surprise slowly vacates his expression, and then he grins. "I'm gonna have to see you in action one of these days."

"My next match is still a few months away, but I'll let you know when and where it takes place."

"I'd like that."

You and Lyla end up with more bags than the two of you can carry, and EZ laughs as he helps the two of you load up your purchases. You treat the two of them to lunch, choosing a Mexican place since you were craving a quesadilla with some chips and salsa. You and Lyla each had a margarita, and EZ made the two of you wear sombreros so he could snap a picture of it. You asked him to send you the picture, and that was the beginning of yours and EZ's very platonic texting relationship since he was already in a relationship himself.

THREE MONTHS LATER

Angel Reyes is sitting outside the clubhouse, sunglasses shielding his eyes as he waits for his baby brother to get his ass outside and tell him what it is they're doing for the day. The day was still young and hot, and he'd rather be anywhere than sitting still under the blistering sun rays.

Finally, EZ walks out of the clubhouse just as the sound of a motorcycle comes up from behind him. Angel turns around after seeing his brother smirk and he's surprised to see the Tacoma Killer rolling into their lot. But not only that, he apparently has SAMCRO's princess perched on the seat behind him, looking completely at ease on the bike.

Angel stands as EZ comes up behind him, whistling lowly as he pushes his sunglasses up to rest atop his head. "You knew she was coming?"

"Yeah. She's got a match tonight in the next town over. I think Bishop's thinking about putting some cash down on her."

. .

The clubhouse doors bang open just as you and Happy climb off the bike, and Bishop walks down the steps. ¡Chiquitita!" You smile at him as he heads straight for you. "Are you feeling good about the fight tonight?"

You nod and readily hug the man as his arms spread wide. Glancing over his shoulder, you can't help but huff a laugh at EZ and Angel's surprised expressions.

"Did some research into her opponent," Happy says as you step back to stand by his side. "She has a decent record, but YN's is better. And she's in a good mood today so Jax is putting money down on her."

"Good, good." Bishop turns around, taking in the Reyes brothers. "I'm giving you five thousand. Bet it all on YN."

. .

Angel and EZ are anxiously waiting in the front row, taking in the cage in front of them. It looks almost professional, but the sketchy individuals all around them say otherwise. Happy had directed them where to place their bets and then settled them down in a specific spot. It was going to be a bit longer before YN fought.

When the matches get underway, EZ and Angel get to witness two men's matches and one female, letting the atmosphere get the best of them and carry them away. They're shouting and cheering and enjoying every bit of violence.

"I can't believe we never knew about this, 'mano," Angel says, taking a sip of his beer. "We could have been making bank."

EZ snorts. "I don't know about that. It's too risky. Bishop is only putting down money because of a Son's word. You think he's gonna be happy if YN loses tonight?"

Angel opens his mouth to retort, but the ring announcer steps into the cage once more. He introduces one female- a blonde with her hair done up in a french braid that hangs down her back. She's around 5'8, slightly ripped, and expression lax as she hops from foot to foot in her corner of the cage as the crowd cheers for her.

As the ring announcer introduces La loba, he's surprised at the crowd's instantaneous reaction. Even more so when EZ stands and bangs his hand on the cage. The woman that steps into the cage is wearing a small silk robe with a hood covering her head, but it's open in the front so he can see the sports bra, black spandex shorts, and the tattoo of a howling wolf on her thigh. La loba. She wolf.

As she pushes the hood off and stares at her opponent, Angel swears as he sees YN. "Fuck. You knew?" He then asks his brother, seeing how excited he is.

When EZ settles down, he nods. "Yeah. Apparently, she's a vicious little thing in the ring. Lyla said it's a sight to behold."

When the fight starts, Angel seems to hold his breath as YN and her opponent bump their taped fists together. Then like a switch was flipped, both women go on the attack. Fists fly out- aimed at the head, ribs and abdomen. Forearms deflect the hits, but some are not quick enough. YN clips her opponent on the chin, briefly dazing her, and that's all the opening she needs. YN goes on the attack immediately, fists throwing punches in a flurry before she grasps onto the girl's neck. As she pulls her down until she's hunched, YN quickly drives her knee into her opponent's abdomen and chest over and over.

A bell dings and a ref throws himself between the two women before sending them to opposite corners. The crowd and EZ go wild, and Happy smugly saunters into the ring to give YN some water and to wipe her down.

"Holy shit."

"I know," EZ agrees. "That was just one round. Can you imagine the next?"

The second round is just as vicious as the first, but YN gets severely pissed off when she drops her guard and takes a hit to the face right before the bell rings. The Reyes brothers sharply suck in some air at the look YN gives her opponent, thanking their lucky stars that they're not the one in the ring with her. Again, Happy cleans up YN, taking care to clean up the small cut at YN's eyebrow and telling her something while she glares across the ring.

Then in the third round, YN lets her opponent tire herself out before delivering an uppercut to the underside of the woman's chin. It's lights out for her.

The crowd goes absolutely wild as Happy rushes into the cage, lifting YN so she's settled on one of his shoulders in victory.

The ring announcer goes through the motions of announcing the victor before reminding everyone where to collect their winnings, and then the Reyes brothers are pushing through the crowd to get to Happy and YN.

When the Reyes brothers are led to a small room, they walk in to find Happy tending to YN's cut. Her eyes meet theirs and she flashes them a smile, beckoning them further in.

"Damn, querida," Angel muses. "That was one hell of a fight. Who knew you could throw down like that."

You smirk at him. "The she-wolf title should have tipped you off, guapo."

Angel's jaw drops open, and Happy and EZ snort. "You- you talk?"

"Selective mutism, 'mano." EZ nudges his brother's shoulder. "She can talk when she feels comfortable."

"Which is mostly when there's not a lot of people around and she knows you," Happy says. "Social anxiety sucks."

You roll your eyes as Happy puts a butterfly bandage over your cut and then you turn around to get dressed. You pull on a pair of jeans and a tank top that EZ remembers you buying from that shopping trip months ago, and then slip your feet into a pair of boots. Happy hands you a leather jacket before dropping the strap of your duffel bag over your head.

"So, who's gonna let me ride with them back to the clubhouse? Bishop's throwing a party and I need a drink or three before we roll out back to Charming tomorrow afternoon."

"You can ride me- I mean with me, querida." Angel smirks.

You snort as Happy and EZ roll their eyes, knowing full well Angel messed up that line on purpose. You glance at Happy, questioning whether or not he's okay with that, and he shrugs. "You're a grown woman, hermanita. You can ride whoever you want."

This time it's your turn to roll your eyes as the Reyes brothers laugh. Then throwing caution to the wind, you grab Angel's wrist and drag him out of the room.

"Should I be worried about that?" EZ asks, chuckling.

"For your brother? Maybe." Happy shrugs. "YN is a whole lot of woman and I'm not sure Angel's prepared for that. You saw how shocked he was when she spoke to him for the first time."

"True."

"Though she won't speak when there's a large crowd around, she will drink so long as she's surrounded by someone she trusts. She's got me, you, and now your brother. He's about to realize what he's just signed up for the moment she downs a fifth shot."

EZ laughs. "Then let's get out of here. I wanna see Angel panic over a girl for once."

guera - white girl princesa - princess cariña - darling guapo - handsome

#soa gen fic x reader #mayans gen fic x reader #sons of anarchy imagine #mayans imagine #mayans mc imagine #sons of anarchy #soa #mayans #mayans mc #jax teller #opie winston #lyla wintson #happy lowman #angel reyes #ez reyes #bishop losa #sons of anarchy fanfiction #mayans mc fanfiction #mayans fanfiction

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andreafmn · 2 years ago

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12 Days of Ficmas - Day 6

Prompt (by @12-days-of-ficmas): i know it’s supposed to be romantic to be snowed in but literally all i have in my apartment is pop tarts

Word Count: 1.9K

Story Description: Nick Miller has it all planned out. A rental just for him and (Y/N), a dinner reservation, and a week by themselves during Christmas in Chicago. The only thing he can't predict is how the weather will be.

Fandom: New Girl

Pairing: Nick Miller x Female!Reader

A/N: no, I am not posting on day seven day six, that is not what I'm doing 🫣

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If you’d like to be tagged in 12 days of ficmas, let me know in the comments.

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Nothing Ever Goes According to Plan

He meant well.

Nick Miller always meant well.

He had planned a whole trip to Chicago for the winter with his girlfriend (Y/N). They had been very busy as of lately. He with his writing and she with her graphic design clients. Especially as the holidays snuck up on them, they had less and less time to see each other.

But Nick wanted to change that. They had already decided to spend Christmas in Chicago with his family. And as much as he loved them, he could barely spend a few hours in a confined space with them, let alone a week. He also couldn’t bring himself to do that to (Y/N). Having to spend the holidays in the piercing Chicago winter was torture enough.

He had rented an apartment just for the two of them. Close enough that they could see his family on Christmas day but far enough that they wouldn’t drop by for a visit. A nice AirBnB to spend the week in together. It was even adorned with beautiful Christmas decorations.

Nick arrived a day before his girlfriend. He had said it was so he could spend some one-on-one time with his family. But in reality, he had something else planned for her arrival.

“Look, Jess, I have told you the plan twenty times already,” Nick sighed into his phone. “I’m sure it’s gonna be fine.”

“Just tell me one more time, Nick! I wanna make sure everyone is on schedule.”

“UGH! Fine. She gets here at three, we have some couple-y alone time, then at 6 we get to Piccolo where we will be escorted to the outdoor patio where I’ll finally pop the question,” he listed off. “Then, if she says yes…”

“When she says yes,” Jess interrupted.

“Sure. We’ll go inside where you will all celebrate the fact that she is crazy enough to want to spend her life with me.”

“Stop it, Nick. I’ve never seen either of you this happy,” she reprimanded. “Now, you’ve got the ring?”

“Yes.”

“You confirmed the reservation?”

“Ya-huh.”

“Did you check the weather for today?”

Nick kept quiet for a couple of seconds. He thought he had done everything possible to ensure the night would go without a hitch. Except check the unpredictable weather of the winter. He had gotten used to the warm and sunny days of California so it didn’t cross his mind to verify that snow would ever ruin everything he had planned.

“You know they’re saying it might snow a lot tonight,” Jess regained his attention. “Maybe we can think of plan B, just in case something happens.”

“It’s gonna be fine Jessica,” Nick laughed nervously. “I’m pretty sure it won’t snow that much. I would know. I’m from Chicago.”

He didn’t have a backup plan. He didn’t want one. Nick wanted everything to go as he had been playing out in his head. Nothing less than perfection.

Somehow, he found himself nervously cleaning the place as he waited for the clock to hit three in the afternoon, and (Y/N) knocked on the door. The apartment was already clean but he needed to hyper-fixate on something that didn’t make him lose his mind.

Before he knew it, a knock rapped on the door and the nerves built up once again inside him. If she was here that could only mean that they were hours closer to a life-changing decision. And (Y/N) had all the power to turn all his Christmases into a time to remember or a time he would always dwell on.

“Uh, Nick?” (Y/N) called from the other side of the door. “Can you let me in, babe? It’s freezing out here.”

“Yeah, yeah! Just a sec,” he responded as he took one final look around the place to make sure it looked perfect. “Hey.”

“Hey, you,” (Y/N) smiled as soon as her boyfriend opened the door. She gave him a quick peck on his lips as she passed the threshold, patting away the snow that had accumulated on her clothes. “It’s really coming down out there. Looks like I got here just in time before things get ugly.”

“What’d you mean?”

“Well, snow’s already coming down hard and they say that six more inches of snow are gonna fall.” She wrapped her arms around his neck, a tempting smile on her face. “But enough about that, huh? It’s the first time in a long time that we’ve been together with no other things to worry about. Let’s make up for some lost time.”

“I like where your mind is, girl,” Nick answered, pushing his worries to the back of his mind.

***

The pair lay in bed, enjoying the warmth of the apartment. After engaging in the physical activity they had missed out on in a while, they were pretty worn out. (Y/N)’s head was on Nick’s chest, listening to his heartbeat as he drew circles on her back.

“It’s a bit romantic, don’t you think?” she said softly. “You and me, trapped in this very nice apartment, a white Christmas happening outside. It’s charming.”

Panic set into him once again. Whilst his mind was elsewhere, he had completely forgotten about the weather predicament. “Well, babe, being snowed in might sound romantic,” he said. “But all I’ve got in the apartment is beer and pop tarts.”

“Very college-esque of you,” she chuckled. “I think we can manage for a night. You know, we can start now, be drunk by seven and back in bed by nine. We’ll sleep through the whole night.”

“But we’ve got that reservation at that restaurant I told you about. It took me a long time to get it.”

“We can call and reschedule, baby. I mean, given the weather conditions I’m sure they’d understand,” she reasoned. “Now, I’m gonna go get a beer and sit by the fire. You can join me if you want. But I’m drinking with or without you.”

As soon as she was out of the room, Nick scurried for his phone. Calling the only person he knew could help.

“Jess! I’m freaking out,” he scream whispered.

“You’re snowed in?”

“Uh-huh.”

“And the only plan you had is falling apart?”

“You know it,” he replied. “I know I screwed up by not having a backup, but I don’t want to hear an ‘I told you so’ right now.”

“Okay, calm down, Nick. I’ll call the restaurant and have them set up the same thing for tomorrow. I’ll send out a message to everyone telling them about the change of plans. And you, my friend, are going to enjoy this night with your girlfriend soon-to-be fiancé.”

“Thanks, Jess.”

“Sure thing. It’s all gonna work out, Nick,” she said in an attempt to calm him down. “Now, I’ve gotta go 'cause I am also snowed in with Sam and I’m gonna take advantage of the situation.”

“You dirty dog,” he chuckled. “Have fun!”

He hung up the phone, feeling relief wash over him before he walked out to the living room. There, (Y/N) had taken out a six-pack of beer from the fridge and had started on her first one. In front of her was a plate with two pop tarts, and one of them had a bite taken off.

“Ready to get drunk?” she asked Nick when she saw him come out of the bedroom. “As you can see, I’ve already started.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” he smiled.

Two hours and twelve beers later, they were sat next to the apartment’s Christmas tree staring at the twinkling lights. They were bundled in each other’s arms, a warm blanket wrapped around them. They had drunk, watched movies, drunk some more, and ate half a box of Pop-Tarts. But they’d gotten to the point where their minds were hazy from the alcohol and everything around them was a very intriguing sight.

“This is fun,” she said. “I could do this forever.”

Forever triggered something in drunk Nick. Suddenly, the box in his pocket was burning a hole in his pants.

“Funny you should mention that,” he chuckled dryly.

“Mention what?”

“That!”

“What are you talking about?” she laughed.

“Forever.”

(Y/N) didn’t understand where he was going with his line of thinking. But it intrigued her. So, she asked, “What about forever?”

“You know, I had a whole thing planned,” he started. “But I forgot to check the weather. I grew up here and I forgot to check the damn weather.”

“Babe, why are you rambling on about the weather?”

“Might as well get this over with,” he smiled. “I, uh, had been planning something for a while now. But like most of my plans, things didn’t really turn out the way they should. You know, you start with one thing and make sure it’s perfect. Once it’s perfect you don’t want to mess with it. And you always do it with the best intentions, but the world doesn’t care about good intentions. And…”

“Nick,” she interrupted him. “Don’t mean to cut you here, but you’re rambling.”

“I had this whole speech planned,” he went on. “But for the life of me, I can’t remember it right now. So, I’ll speak from the heart – 'cause I’m very good at that, especially when I’m drunk.”

Nick moved his body until he was sitting face-to-face with her. He took her hands in his and continued.

“(Y/N), I love you. I love you so damn much,” Nick smiled. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Making plans that always get screwed up. I want to get drunk right before Christmas. I wanna go to crazy expensive restaurants with you and leave because we hate the food there. I want a house, and kids, and everything that comes with life. I want it all and I want it with you!”

“Are you asking what I think you’re asking?”

He pulled the black box out of his pocket, revealing the ring he’d guarded for six months and somehow had managed to hide it all that time. “Will you make the craziest decision of your life and agree to marry me?”

“Nick! Yes! A thousand times yes!” (Y/N) exclaimed as she threw her arms around him, knocking him back onto the floor. She landed on top of him and they both laughed. “And if getting married to you is crazy, then let me be crazy. Because nothing would make me happier.”

“Can I ask you something else?”

“Anything.”

“Make sure you act surprised tomorrow at the restaurant,” he chuckled. “It was supposed to be a surprise, but everyone’s gonna be at Piccolo’s tomorrow expecting a proposal. They don’t have to know it’s gonna be a replay.”

“Nick, you suck at lying.”

“But I’m great at make-believe,” he grinned. “And tomorrow I’m gonna be Nick from this morning. The nervous wreck that wanted today to be perfect.”

“Well, regardless if tomorrow doesn’t go well, today you gave me the best present in the world,” she smiled as she set a soft kiss on his lips.

“Merry Christmas, (Y/N).”

“Merry Christmas, fiancé.”

“Kind of like the sound of that,” he chuckled. “Nick Miller, fiancé.”

“I’d like husband a lot more,” (Y/N) smiled back. “And it’d be a Christmas miracle if you can pull off tomorrow. Again, you are terrible at lying.”

“But terrific at make-believe,” they chorused before laughing.

Taglist: @honeylovemoon @hufflepuffobsessedwithmarvel @laylaskywalker

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drabbles-mc · 3 years ago

Note

Your writing is so good! Could you do a sons/mayans headcannon of how they deal with your death?

Wow we both woke up and chose violence today, huh?

I’ve been working on these for the past couple of days and I am not too proud to admit that I have made myself really fuckin’ sad in the process lmao.

Ask and you shall receive! Very Angsty hcs under the cut.

Disclaimer: not everyone that I usually include in hc’s is in this one. Anyone that got left out wasn’t forgotten, but I just wasn’t getting hit with inspo for them for this and I wasn’t going to force it. Esepcially with such a heavy/emotional prompt.

Obviously, the circumstances of the death will impact the way they react to it. So, for the sake of this hc, let's just say the death happened because of club business/retaliation in some capacity.

Jax:

We've seen how ruthless Jax becomes when he loses someone that he loves

Once the initial shock and sadness of it wear off, he goes into complete shut-down and vengeance mode. Any trace of the Jax everyone had once known when he was with you? Gone.

He runs the gamut between unbridled rage and utter vacancy, occasionally allowing the sadness to seep through, but not often, not while there’s still work to do.

Anything to keep his mind off the gaping hole in his chest where you used to be.

Never takes off his wedding band.

He knows that it should be the last kick that he needs to get himself out of the life, but it only drives him deeper into it, feeling like he has nothing else left to live for besides the club.

Saying that he’s living might be a bit of an exaggeration. He does just enough to keep himself alive, but barely.

Goes and sits at your headstone to write--it feels more comfortable than saying the words out loud.

But he does always whisper a quiet apology each time he gets up to leave.

Opie

Shuts down as much as he is able to.

The only time anyone sees any kind of real emotion from him is when he’s angry, or upset. Joy officially becomes a thing of the past.

He becomes a ship without a captain, not quite knowing what the point of anything is anymore.

Goes through the motions and does what’s asked of him, but everyone around can tell that he’s only doing it because he doesn’t know what else to do.

Mild to moderate self-destructive streak after your death, but just like with everything else, he doesn’t put a hell of a lot into that either. It looks more like him not taking any protective measures anymore.

He thinks about what you would’ve wanted for him, and knows that this isn’t it, but then he remembers that you aren’t there anyway so what does it matter?

Will not sleep on your side of the bed, or clear out your dresser and side of the closet. As much as it hurts to look at your things, he knows it would hurt more getting rid of them.

Can’t handle wearing his wedding band anymore, but he doesn’t get rid of it either. It sits perfectly safe on your dresser alongside your other jewelry.

Slows down when he rides past the cemetery, but very rarely goes it. Looking at your headstone makes it feel too real.

Juice

An absolute wreck for the foreseeable future.

He can shut down and tune out a lot, he’s had a whole lifetime of building up those skills, but nothing prepared him for losing you.

Cannot hold it together, and no one knows how to help him through that.

You were supposed to be the one who would be there even if everyone else left, but then you were gone. And now it doesn’t matter how many other people are there, he still feels alone.

Sees you everywhere, in everything.

The mere thought of moving on, of even moving or packing up your things makes his skin crawl.

You were the first thing in his life that made him give a shit about his future, but then you were gone, and the rest of his life seems like an impossibly long time to live without you.

He’s tried to meet you, but it never quite works, something always goes awry.

Sometimes he thinks it’s you trying to tell him it’s not time yet, but mostly he just chalks it up to being another thing that he can’t get right.

People say that it’s not his fault, that the weight of the guilt of you being gone will lessen with time, but it doesn’t. Not for him.

Chibs

Doesn’t get out of bed for days.

Manages to keep it together by a thread during the services while everyone else is around. But the second that everyone else leaves, and it’s just him in the middle of an empty cemetery, he completely breaks down. Not even able to stay on his feet.

People try to get him to talk about it, but he refuses. The closest he gets to talking about it is when he’s bottle-deep alone at home, rambling to you not really about you.

He hopes you can hear what he’s saying while also hoping you can’t see what he’s become since you’ve been gone.

He knew that you were the love of his life from the moment he met you, and trying to accept that you’re really gone is an impossible ask.

The days all start to blur together, and if someone was to ask him what he’d been doing to fill the hours, he wouldn’t be able to give a clear answer. Somehow, though, he managed to keep getting out of bed despite wanting to to nothing of the sort.

It’s the most he’s talked to god in a long time, not that anyone ever talks back.

Tig

Kicks himself for thinking that he wouldn’t lose you the same way that he’s lost everyone else in his life.

Whether it was directly his fault or not, he always ended up losing the people he loved. It shouldn’t have been a surprise to him, but it was. A surprising, cripplingly cruel reminder that he was going to end up alone at the end of it all.

He tries to shut it out. Most times he’s successful, throwing himself into the club like that would ever make up for the damage done.

He doesn’t talk about it, doesn’t let himself get emotional about it around the rest of the club. They mistake it for him not caring, for him moving on so quickly with his life.

But the reality of it is that he’s just suppressing it all. Pushing it farther and farther down each day so it has less of a chance of ruining him all over again.

If they thought that he was ruthless and cold and unhinged before, they weren’t ready for what was about to come.

Happy

He makes sure the entire world pays for what happened to you.

There isn’t enough space on his body for the amount of smiley faces he’d need to add as he goes on a vengeance rampage.

If anyone thinks it’s a bad idea, no one is brave enough to say so. They don’t want to be next.

He doesn’t ever really go home after that. He’s either on the road or staying at the clubhouse. He tries to lie to himself and chalk it up to him being singularly focused on revenge and the club. But deep down he knows he just can’t go back to where you used to live with him.

Home isn’t home if you aren’t there, so what’s the point?

You had been one of the first people he had ever allowed himself to be vulnerable around, and once you were gone, he knew that you were also the last.

He doesn’t talk about you much, not really ever sure if he’s able to handle it. But the few times he does, he never uses the past tense.

Kozik

He never thought that something was going to hit so close to home until it took the thing closest to him.

It was something that seemed like it would only ever happen to other people, until it happened to him.

The shock of it all was broken up only by the waves of sadness that followed.

He never thought about what his life would look like without you in it, and now he had no choice but to face the reality of it.

Denial was his best and closest friend.

He didn’t talk about you often, solely because he didn’t want to face what had happened. The times when he did, though, it was always soft, with a lot of reverence, and always in the present tense, like you were going to come crashing through the door at any moment.

There has never been a time in his life that EZ didn’t compartmentalize. And this was no different.

That didn’t mean that he was actually dealing with it though. He just tried to lock it up in a box and tuck it in the back of his mind.

But there’s never any forgetting for him, no reprieve from the memories, and there is no lock in the world that was strong enough to keep those thoughts and feelings at bay for too long.

He always thought of you as the one thing that kept him from completely slipping over into the darkness in his mind. And now you were gone, and he didn’t see the point in trying to pretend that he was anything but the worst parts of himself.

Like father, like son, he keeps some mementos on the mantle. Things to try and bridge the gap between where he is, and where you are. Some days he thinks they help, some days he thinks he’s beyond helping.

He contemplates putting his ring on the chain around his neck that he never takes off, but decides against it, leaving it on his finger. He never takes that off either.

Angel

Quickly picks up any and every self destructive habit that he can.

Anything to keep him from thinking about you being gone, from feeling the emptiness that’s left behind.

He tries to push the feelings down and avoid them, but he’s never been good at that. The pendulum swings back and forth between anger and sadness, with not a whole lot of room left for anything else.

Every had thought and feeling that he’s ever had about himself only gets confirmed in his head once you’re gone. After all, if they weren’t true, why would the universe have taken you away from him?

Wallowing in self-hatred is easy, he’s done it his whole life. It’s the safer, easier option compared to letting himself actually grieve for you.

He wants to feel closer to you, but he knows that he can’t handle it. He thinks about the way his father refuses to move the urn from the kitchen and now he really doesn’t understand how that man handles it every day, a constant reminder every time he gets a damn cup of coffee

Bishop

He’s lost a lot in his life, thought that he was prepared for what it would feel like to lose just about anything. But not you. Nothing in the universe could’ve prepared him for what it felt like to lose you.

He didn’t know if he was drinking to blot out the memories of you, or to drive himself to a slow death. Regardless, he wasn’t successful in either endeavor, but not for lack of trying.

The hardness that had protected him and served him so well for so many years fortified and became razor sharp. He wasn’t ever going to love anyone again, not really.

Rage becomes his compass instead of his logic, which is dangerous for anyone, but especially a man in his position. He didn’t care, though. You were already gone so what did it matter now?

Sleeps exclusively on the couch at home. The only time he goes into what used to be your shared room is to get clothes for the day, and he never lingers.

Despite avoiding your things, he thinks of you constantly. It’s debilitating. He wants to hate it, but he’s afraid that if he stops, he’s going to forget what you sounded like.

Keeps his wedding band on a chain around his neck, tucked safely beneath the collar of his shirt.

Visits your headstone often, making sure it’s clean and with fresh flowers. But he doesn’t linger, not wanting to give himself a chance to feel too much.

Creeper

Every emotion that went through him, he felt it completely, coursing through every vein of his body.

Anger, sadness, emptiness, rage, each one became him.

His love and loyalty to you wouldn’t let him rest until he felt like some kind of justice had been served.

But what would ever be considered justice for what was done to you? It felt like he was on a journey without an end. And, for you, he was willing to resign himself to it for the rest of his life.

There was no one in the world that he loved more than you, and there never would be.

He wasn’t afraid to feel what he was feeling in front of everyone else. Anger was easy. They were all good at anger. But even his sadness, his loneliness, he wore that on his sleeve as well.

The void left behind by you being gone wasn’t ever going to be filled. And he didn’t bother trying. But he kept your things.

He didn’t know how much he bought into the afterlife, or reincarnation, or any of the bullshit he’d heard the guys talk about in vain attempts to comfort him. But what he did know was that it felt better to keep his wedding ring on. It felt better to leave your boots next to the door where you’d life them, your half-empty journals still in your bedside table. Nothing felt good, but some things felt better.

Coco

Retaliation is the only thing on his mind at first. That’s just how he’s wired.

Once the score is settled, though, that’s when he really starts to unravel.

On the other side of his rage, there’s nothing but hurt and guilt, and sadness, and those are the things that he doesn’t know how to handle. He doesn’t know where to put all those feelings.

The downward spiral starts quickly, and seems never-ending.

He’d given up on the world long before he met you, assuming that it was just in his DNA to never find real happiness. He just resigned himself to being too far gone to truly love and be loved by someone. But then you came crashing into his life and buried all those fears and thoughts.

And then you were taken from him too. Leaving him knowing that happiness, love, it was all real and he had it. But it was taken from him.

No amount of philosophizing can bring him any comfort or reasoning or justification for what happened to you. The Church of Coco’s doors officially get locked shut.

Taza

He always considered himself to be someone who had a decent grip on and relationship with death. Not in a morbid way, but a realistic one.

Losing you threw all of that out the window, though.

It was impossible to sleep, he was always on edge, just barely on this side of doing enough to stay alive.

He knew that you would’ve hated the path he put himself on, but he didn’t have it in himself to stop. Any thought about trying to heal and move through his grief, only made him dig his heels in harder.

Logically, he knew that one day he was going to wake up and it wasn’t going to be as suffocating. He’d experienced enough loss to know that he wouldn’t feel like he was on the brink of a total mental break forever. But it was hard to see that when he was in the depths of such a loss.

He tried to remind himself of everything that he’d ever been taught, ever said to anyone else, but it all felt futile.

It was the only time that he didn’t ever want to feel better, he didn’t want to feel farther away from what had happened.

Riz

Being angry was easier than being sad, so that’s the emotion that he clung to the most.

He hated himself, but he hated the club more. Another thing that was easier, placing as much of the blame as possible on something besides himself.

But deep down underneath it all, he felt like he was solely at fault for the entire thing, and he didn’t know if it was something he would ever come back from.

He’s always had a mean bitter streak, something that you’d managed to mellow out of him over the years, but now it was back with a vengeance.

Anyone who tried to stop him from doing anything was met with the full force of all his pent-up rage.

The humor and the whimsy that he once had, the one-liners that he was able to conjure up to ease the tension in any situation, all of that was gone. Snubbed out like the end of a spent cigarette.

It was only in the small hours of the morning, when he was home alone in the darkness of the room you used to share with him, too drunk for his own good, that he let himself feel the sadness that was ripping him apart at the seams.

Nestor

His anger was always dangerous, but no other situation in the past compared to this one.

It was dangerous for him to feel what he was feeling, to think the thoughts that he was having, and also have the means to do something about them.

Consequences be damned, he was going to do whatever it took to get some semblance of even.

It didn’t matter who tried to talk some sense into him about it, he wasn’t going to listen.

It wasn’t until he was completely alone, washing the blood from his hands and face, tending to wounds and wishing that you were there to nurse him through it, that the anger gave way to the real emotion underneath--sadness.

You were his one shred of hope for having a normal life, or rather, a happy life, since there was no normal in his world. But now you were gone.

He was all business from there on out, but with a new reckless abandon that he hadn’t had before, knowing that you weren’t there to come home to so it wouldn’t matter if he didn’t make it.

SOA/Mayans Taglist: @thesandbeneathmytoes @paintballkid711 @tomhardydallasstarsgirl @queenbeered @kelpies-shed @sesamepancakes @yourwonkywriter @chibsytelford @gemini0410 @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @plentyoffandoms @georgiaaintnopeach @twistnet @garbinge @themoonandthewicked @bucky-iss-bae @encounterthepast @rosieposie0624 @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo @mijop @xladymacbethx @blessedboo @holl2712 @lakamaa12 @masterlistforimagines @toni9 @shadow-of-wonder @crowfootwrites @redpoodlern @punkgoddess-98 @black-repunzel99 @lexondeck @mrsstevenbuchananstark @lovebishoplosamiguelgalindos @amorestevens @angelreyesisdaddy04 @mijagif @frattsparty @winchestershiresauce @bellisperennis0 @beardburnsupersoldiers @mveggieburger @thanossexual @xeniarocks @choochoo284 @littlekittymeow @beardsanddetectives @bruxasolta @slut-bitch-brat @i-love-scott-mccall @espieviolet99 @i-just-read-stuff @unicornucopia-fuckers @jitterbugs927 @be-my-dear (If you want to be tagged for either/both fandoms going forward just let me know!)

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