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fanficimagery · 2 years

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A Spider Among Bikers

Finally reunited with your sister, you tried to keep the reality of what you went through a secret. Of course, it was only a matter of time before you had to tell her.

Words: 8.1K Author's Note: Is it still called a crossover if you only mention other characters/agencies from another fandom? Sons and Marvel AU. Trigger warning for KGB grooming and all that.

One minute you're fighting alongside your fellow Widows, intent on taking out ex-Widow Romanoff, and the next you are being blown backwards off your feet by a small explosive. Small red orbs dance in front of your face, disappearing into your mouth and nostrils as it clears away a haze that had been pulled over your mind long ago.

You sit up alongside your sisters, glancing around in confusion and fear as agents Romanoff and Belova explain that you're free- that General Dreykov had controlled all of you, but that he no longer had that power over you. They tell you the base is going to explode and to evacuate immediately. Then after everything has settled, agents Belova and Vostokoff take you and the other Widows in, giving you a place to stay and time to collect yourselves before going off on your own or whatever it was you decided to do. You stayed for nearly a year, trying to piece together everything you knew about your past life and whether or not it was worth going back to.

It was.

At least going back for your sister it was when you did a little digging. She married a member of some motorcycle club whose members were a bunch of criminals, taking care of his two kids and slowly drowning in debt. So after trying to remember anything you could about Lyla and your parents, you packed up what little belongings you had and returned to the states for the first time since you were eight.

Lyla Winston no longer worked in the porn industry and instead chose to bartend at a bar that only served bikers and their friends. Teller-Morrow Automotive was a front for the Sons of Anarchy and whatever they chose to do that kept the money coming in, and connected to the automotive garage was the clubhouse where all members hung out and partied.

Hesitantly walking into the parking lot, you're aware of the gazes following you. You don't want to step on any toes by just entering their building, so instead you head over to a grouping of picnic tables where a couple individuals are having a smoke break- one with a mohawk shaved close to his head and tattoos on either side of the strip of hair, and the other wearing a beanie despite the warm weather as he strokes his full beard. Opie Winston. Your apparent brother-in-law.

"Hi." You're anything but a shy, sheepish woman, but you have to put up a front. At least for now until you can explain your past. "Um, do you guys know if Lyla Winston is here? I was told I could find her here."

The man in the beanie, Opie, tenses and you gulp, shoving your hands into the pockets of your shorts as you try to make yourself as small as possible under his stare. "She is. Who are you?"

"YN. I'm, uh, I'm her little sister."

"Bullshit."

You wince at his tone and your eyes widen as he stands up from the table. The man was tall. Lyla definitely had good taste. "I-I am! Promise. C-Can you just go get her? She might not believe you if you tell her who's asking for her, so tell her I was the one who broke mom's glass cabinet but that she took the blame so I wouldn't get the belt."

Opie continues to stare you down, but eventually he sees something in you that makes him believe you might be telling the truth. He looks down at his friend and gestures to the garage. "Go tell her. See what her reaction is." His companion nods and hurriedly gets up, jogging towards the building. You exhale, shoulders sagging just a bit. "I'm gonna ask you again, who are you? And don't lie to me."

"I-I'm not. I'm YN. Lyla's younger sister by only a year."

He crosses thick arms over his chest as his eyes narrow. "Why hasn't she mentioned you before?"

You shrug. "I don't know. Maybe because-"

The sound of glass shattering makes you pause and you immediately glance at the clubhouse opening. Many of the garage workers have stopped working, everyone now staring at the blonde woman who's now running out of the clubhouse. Opie moves to intercept her, but she slaps away his hands and stops just a couple feet in front of you, eyes wide with disbelief.

It's Lyla. Definitely Lyla all grown up.

Your eyes water and your throat tightens, and she reaches for you cautiously as if you're going to disappear on her, but holds herself back from making contact. "We used to have a dog when we were little," she says. "What was its name?"

Your brow furrows as you try to recall memories from your childhood. "We didn't have a dog. We had a cat and you.. you named it Fergus."

Lyla sobs before closing the distance between the two of you, her arms around your neck as yours wrap around her waist. "We thought you were dead!" She cries. "How are you here right now? Mom and dad never called and.." She trails off, sobs wracking her body.

Your eyes sting with more tears before they spill over, and you smooth your hands up and down her back. You're more than ready to answer her, but another masculine voice stops you. "Ope? What's going on, brother?"

You glance at Opie, watching as he glances between you and the several members of his club standing nearby. "Your guess is as good as mine. Says she's Lyla's sister."

"Didn't know she had one." Now the blue-eyed, blonde man is staring suspiciously at you.

"Neither did I."

Lyla, having been keeping an ear out on her surroundings, releases you and whirls around while standing protectively in front of you. "She was kidnapped when I was nine. We didn't- I thought she was-"

"Shit." Opie curses as Lyla breaks down again.

As Opie pulls his wife into a hug, you stand just behind her and let your gaze dart over those closing in on you to quickly catalog who's who. Jax Teller, Clay Morrow, Gemma Teller-Morrow, Happy Lowman, Chibs Telford, Juice Ortiz, Tig Trager.. each and every one of these individuals are someone you've done research on before you ever stepped foot inside Charming, California.

Opie glances down at you, expression still neutral. "Come inside. Let's talk."

You gulp and nod, crossing your arms over your chest and keeping your head down, intent on following after him and your sister. But Lyla pulls herself free from him and she wraps an arm around your shoulders to tuck you under her arm, leading you into the clubhouse herself. As she leads you towards a couple of sofas, someone shouts for everyone to clear the hell out and for a few guys to keep an eye on the garage.

Lyla sits you down on a sofa and sits as close as possible to you, Opie sitting on her other side and Jax sitting on yours. Across from you, Clay and Gemma take a seat as the others scramble for a seat themselves. Two other individuals join you- Opie's father Piney and another individual known as Bobby as they quietly inquire what the hell is going on after seeing Lyla's tear-stained face.

"Where have you been all this time?" Lyla finally asks.

Her question quiets everyone down and they all stare at you in anticipation. You exhale softly. "Believe it or not, I've been in Russia." Her eyes widen and you immediately slip into the language that now spills effortlessly off your tongue. "It was hell, but I'm home now."

Someone mumbles, "Holy shit," and you crack a small grin in Juice's direction.

"How'd you get away?"

"You know that Avenger that goes by the name Black Widow?" She nods. "She set us free last year."

"Us?" Jax murmurs.

You glance at him and solemnly nod. "Human trafficking." That was as close to the truth as you'd tell them for now. Someone inhales sharply and Lyla starts to sniffle all over again. "When I- when I was taken, I was just coming back from the restroom at the mall. One second I'm walking down a hallway, and the next everything has gone dark and I'm waking up in the back of a truck with numerous other crying and scared little girls."

"Oh my god." Lyla reaches for your hand and you flash her a tearful smile.

"They drove for hours and when we were finally let out, we were in some lot surrounded by cargo shipping containers. There was a man and he.. he walked up and down, picking and choosing the girls he wanted. The ones that didn't get chosen were shot and killed right away." There's gruntled mumbling of disbelief and anger, but you press on. Squeezing Lyla's hand, you keep your gaze on the coffee table in front of you as you blink away tears. "That's.. that's the only clear thing I can remember from before. My time in Russia.. it's all fuzzy. Jumbled," you say. "Like I know I was constantly busy, always doing something, but when I try to think exactly what it was I was doing.. it's just- it's static."

"Maybe that's for the best." Your eyes dart up at the words to see Gemma's dark eyes pinning you to your seat. Everything about her screams tough bitch, but the sympathy in her eyes lets you know she believes everything you're saying.

"If that Avenger lass set you free last year, why are you only coming now? Why weren't yer family notified?" Chibs wonders.

You shrug. "Whatever agent Romanoff was doing in Russia; I don't think it was sanctioned by the government. I don't think finding us was her objective, but she couldn't leave us there, so she and a couple of friends set us up somewhere so we could heal before deciding what we wanted to do. Over the months, some stuff started coming back to me and I just- I felt dirty. Ashamed. And after a while, all I wanted was my sister. Not mom, not dad, but Ly."

Lyla immediately hugs you. "I got you. You're home now. It's going to be okay."

"I'm sure you've been through hell, girl, but I'm gonna need a DNA test to prove you are who you say you are."

"Clay." Jax tenses in his seat, but the gruff man shakes his head.

"We've been through too much- the club's been through too much- to just let someone waltz in and play on Lyla's past like this. If the DNA's a match, I'll apologize. If not.."

"I'll do it." You gulp as every stare falls on you once more. "I don't know what you guys have been through, but if this will ease your minds about whatever suspicions you have about me, then I'll do it."

Everyone goes quiet and Clay stares at you a moment longer before nodding. "Okay." Then looking at Jax, he says, "Make the appointment with your old lady. The sooner, the better."

Jax gets up and heads over to the bar, pulling out his phone to make the call. Lyla tugs on your hand, garnering your attention and she flashes you a weak smile. "You don't have to," she murmurs. "I believe you."

You lean forward, touching your forehead to hers. "This is your family now, Ly. It's okay. I'm fine with whatever tests they want to run."

Jax makes his way back over, breaking up the family moment. "Tara said her friend's free right now. They can draw the blood and put a rush on it to see if there are any similarities."

Clay nods and gestures to the clubhouse doors. "Go. Let us know the results."

"Come on." Lyla stands, tugging on your hand so you're standing as well.

Opie passes Lyla a set of keys. "Take the truck. Jax and I will follow."

"Okay." He kisses your sister's cheek before staring at you and offering a terse nod.

Lyla leads you out of the clubhouse and into the parking lot, pointing out the truck she's going to drive. You climb into the passenger seat without a word, briefly glancing at Jax and Opie as they climb onto their motorcycles.

The drive to the hospital is quiet, your head leaning against the headrest while your arm sticks out the window as the wind rushes over it. Then all too soon, Lyla is pulling into the parking lot of a hospital and parking, Jax and Opie parking nearby. You and Lyla hop out of the truck, and when you meet her in front of the hood she's quick to grab your hand and tangle your fingers together.

Jax and Opie lead the way into the hospital as Jax looks for Tara- who Lyla quickly explains is Jax's wife- and then a brunette is politely introducing herself while leading you and Lyla to one of the back rooms. You hardly bat an eye as she and her friend explain the blood taking process, and readily lay your arm out so they can tap a vein.

A handful of minutes later and you're sitting in the hospital cafeteria next to your sister with Jax and Opie sitting opposite you. You're relaxed in your chair, staring straight ahead but not really seeing. You've zoned out.

"So since you've convinced Lyla and you're not freakin' out about having your blood taken,'' Opie starts, "I'm gonna just assume you've been tellin' the truth and really are Lyla's little sister." Your lips twitch at his gruff tone and you offer him a nod. "Then let me be the first to say welcome home." He holds his hand out for you to shake and you do. "I'm Opie. Your brother-in-law."

"Hi, Opie."

"And I'm Jax. Opie's best friend." The blue-eyed blonde shakes your hand as well.

"I'm, uh, I'm YN," you say. "I wish I could tell you more about me, but I don't have much to go off of."

"Don't even worry about it. I'm sure you'll be makin' new memories pretty soon."

The next hour passes agonizingly slow, but it's never silent. Lyla shares what little stories from your childhood she remembers, about how she met Opie, and asks if you have any place to stay or where you'll be staying. You inform her you have a motel room that suits you just fine and you kind of really want to stick with her for as long as you can. Jax and Opie are worried about whatever funds you have running out, but you assure them that Yelena and Melina set you up with funds that's sure to last you for quite a while (they were really your funds you saved up over the years for targets you'd taken out for the Red Room, but they didn't need to know that. At least not yet).

When Tara arrives at the table with an envelope in hand, everyone tenses. And she smiles- beams, really- while telling you what you already knew. You and Lyla were siblings, and the blood tests proved it. Lyla broke down into sobs again and you pulled her into a hug, chuckling but crying along with her. Opie and Jax stand, make their way around the table, and pull you into hugs of their own while welcoming you to the family. Even Tara hugs you, tears in her eyes before telling you all she has to go back to work.

The drive back to Teller-Morrow Automotive is a bit more lighthearted, but Lyla quickly schools her expression when she parks and gets out. She keeps her hands to herself as everyone starts to slowly come out from the clubhouse and your arms cross over your chest to hug yourself.

"Well?" Gemma drawls. "Are we kicking some ass or throwing a party?"

For a moment you and Lyla say nothing, and then she's practically jumping up and down in celebration. "My sister's back, bitches!"

Clay smiles and Gemma smirks, and the other men around you whoop and congratulate her. They introduce themselves to you this time- Juice, Bobby, Happy, Piney, and Chibs. Tig tries to flirt, but you laugh him off, and then Gemma's pulling you into a side hug. Clay apologizes and you forgive him, and then you're being ushered inside and asked what you like to eat because there's going to be a huge party for you the following day.

Lyla ends up staying with you at the motel that night, but only after she agrees to Opie's demands that a Prospect stand guard outside your room. She filled you in about her life after you'd gone missing and how she landed a job as a porn star. She had been hesitant to reveal that fact about her life, but you surprised her by being accepting of her chosen lifestyle.

You'd fallen asleep in the same bed in the early morning hours, only to be woken up by someone repeatedly kicking the mattress. You and Lyla immediately sat up, glaring at the intruders. Moments later, as your vision cleared, you watched as Opie and Jax snorted with laughter.

"Holy shit. If that DNA test hadn't been taken yesterday, that twin death glare would've convinced me," Jax had said.

You and Lyla groaned at the men, falling back onto the mattress and wanting nothing more than to grab a few more hours of sleep. Opie told you to do just that, but the two of you better be up and dressed for the night's activities since Gemma had the sweetbutts cleaning the clubhouse from top to bottom since six that morning.

Later, after a late lunch, Lyla tells you to grab a change of clothes so you could get ready at her house. Opie introduces you to his kids and then Lyla drags you to the bedroom. You shower first and then her, and she tries to talk you into a different outfit when she sees what you chose- dark skinny jeans, a fitted short sleeve shirt under a loose cardigan and a pair of Doc Martens. You were comfortable in your own skin, but around so many new people you just wanted to dress comfortably with no intention of impressing anyone.

There are actual streamers and balloons and a welcome home banner when you get to the clubhouse, and you hardly bat an eye at all the scantily clad women that your sister refers to as sweetbutts who have high hopes of sleeping with anyone and everyone in a kutte. You're hugged and kissed on the cheek by a few people, and then Jax is jumping on the bar and informing everyone exactly what the party is for while introducing you. There are several whoops of cheer and even more whistles of appreciation, and you sheepishly wave while trying to put Lyla in front of you.

Lyla leads you around the clubhouse so you can mingle and get to know more people, and then you're grabbing a plate of pizza and a beer and taking a seat on the sofa. Eventually though she gets roped into being behind the bar, leaving you all alone. Opie checks on you every once and a while, he and Jax scaring away any member of SAMCRO who'd taken to sitting a little too close to you.

As the night wears on, Happy takes a seat on the opposite corner of the sofa you're on to glare away anyone who bothers you. Every time someone gets close and then quickly backpedals after an introduction, you glance at Happy and offer him a brief smile before people watching once more.

Juice plops on the empty space between you and Happy, and he waggles his eyebrows at you. "You've been nursing that beer the entire night. Live a little."

When he pulls forth a bottle of vodka that he'd been hiding by his side, you arch an eyebrow at him. "I'm not really a fan of the hard stuff."

He scoffs. "What? All that time with the Russians and they didn't teach you how to hold your liquor?"

Happy punches Juice's thigh and you flash both men a grin. "Juice, I can drink your pretty ass under the table. I just choose not to."

Juice beams and Happy rolls his eyes. "You've done it now."

"Line them up, sweetheart. You just issued a challenge and I'm jumping on that."

"Whatever. I'll be back." You get up and head over to the bar, asking Lyla for a tray of empty shot glasses. She raises an eyebrow at you, and you explain Juice has just challenged you to a drinking challenge. She laughs, gets you the shot glasses, and wishes you luck.

When you get back to Juice and Happy, you sit on your knees next to the coffee table and start lining up the shot glasses in two lines. Juice laughs and uncaps the vodka, filling each shot glass. Then once they're all filled, he grabs the first one in his line as you do the same.

"Cheers."

You and Juice clink shot glasses, and you down the first shot. One by one, you and Juice down them, gathering a small crowd who start laughing when Juice cringes at one particular shot and you're still throwing them back without a grimace.

On the last shot, Juice hesitates, already looking a little green around the gills. He shoots back the shot, but more than half dribbles out of his mouth and you shoot yours back without any issue. The men and women surrounding you whoop and cheer, and you reclaim your seat on the sofa when Jax assures the sweetbutts will handle the shot glasses so you don't have to clean up. Juice burps and gags, but keeps down his liquor. He sways in his seat and before anyone can do anything, he drops sideways so that his head is in your lap.

Laughing, you wave off Chibs as he goes to move his brother. "He's fine. Let him sleep it off for a bit. I don't think I can leave before the party's over anyway."

Chibs looks a little surprised, leaving Juice on your lap, but not taking his leave before snapping a quick picture of his passed out brother while you're still sitting pretty as a flower.

It's been a little over two months that you've been back in the states, and you've recently come back to Charming after visiting your parents. You fed them the same story you did your sister, and they accepted your words without question. They didn't like that you were living under the radar, so after a quick call to Yelena who in turn called her sister Natasha, you were mailed your identification cards and every other important document you needed to get by without being questioned by any authorities.

You are the complete opposite of your sister Lyla, but the Sons of Anarchy and their Old Ladies have become quite fond of you. In fact, they've also become a bit protective as well. But it isn't until the little town of Charming throws a fundraiser for every organization within the town that the club starts to realize there may be more to you than meets the eye.

Every organization had a booth lining the street of downtown Charming, selling food and giving away goodie bags to those who bought food from them or donated to their cause. And apparently there was a perk for whichever organization raised the most cash, so Gemma was determined to finally beat the fire department. She didn't look too happy by the time you and Lyla dropped by, and she admitted the damn fire department had more visitors than the club's booth. And on a whim, you asked her how much money they usually made at these things.

Once Gemma absentmindedly tells you that each booth usually makes anywhere from $200 to $800, Lyla and Jax are the only ones to raise an eyebrow as you smile and take off the small backpack you had donned for the day. Reaching in, you pull out a checkbook and write a check for $5000. You hand it over and take a cup of chili in return, and wink at Gemma when she finally reads how much you'd just donated.

Gemma blinks in shock and awe. "What? Baby.."

"I'm good for it. Trust me."

Jax takes the check from his mom, his own eyes widening a second later. "What the fuck?"

You laugh and eat some chili, shrugging. "Just think of it as a thank you for all that you guys have done for me."

Lyla can only smile as Jax whoops and cheers, rushing around the table to pull you into a hug and swing you around. After all, she and Opie were no stranger to taking some of your money so you could help them with some of their debt. It was a struggle for them to accept it, but when they realized you had more than enough cash stashed away, they thanked you profusely.

Little by little, your guard falls around the club. Not enough to let them know what you'd truly been through, but enough to stop blushing and even flirt back a little to give the men a taste of their own medicine. The first time you'd done it, Tig choked on his beer and Piney laughed so hard that Opie had to up his oxygen.

Lyla managed to convince Gemma to hire you on as a bartender at the clubhouse, but they made it clear that you were to step outside if they ever mentioned club business. You had absolutely no issue with it and immediately dropped whatever you were doing when Clay or Jax gave you a single look. So of course, after you've settled down and finally started to live like a civilian, it all comes crashing down.

The core members of SAMCRO are hanging around the clubhouse with Gemma, Tara, Lyla and yourself with them. Everyone's just killing time after a long day in the garage and the atmosphere is the most comfortable you've ever felt since you've been here.

You're on the way back from grabbing a few beers for the guys when a suit walks into the clubhouse, two duffel bags hanging off his shoulders. You see him first and slow to a stop, and then tense when you realize who he is. You know him. You've worked for him. And now here he was looking smug as can be.

"Hey, man," Jax calls out. "We're closed for the night."

Suit smiles at Jax and shakes his head. "I'm not here for you. I'm here for her." He points at you and everyone tenses. "Hello, YN."

Your expression goes cold as you slowly set the bottles in your hand on the nearest table, keeping the suit in your eye sight the entire time. "You're not welcome here. Leave."

"Aw. Is that any way to speak to an old friend?" Immediately, everyone's standing and coming to crowd on either side of you. Suit scoffs at their reaction. "Cute." Then he meets your gaze head on. "I got a job for you."

Immediately you shake your head. "No. Yelena and Melina got me out of that life. I've gone straight."

"YN?" The hurt in your sister's voice is enough to make your expression crack and you glance at her, expression showing just how fucking sorry you currently are. "What's going on?"

"Later, Ly. Please."

Her eyes widen when she hears your voice crack, but then the sound of a bag being tossed on the ground makes you look forward once more. You glance at the duffel bag on the floor and then back at the suit. He smirks. "Is two hundred and fifty thousand enough to make you stray?"

The men and women surrounding you go eerily quiet, so quiet that you hear a mumbled, "Fuck," somewhere to your right. Your jaw clenches as tears sting your eyes and when you glance to your left, you find every Son staring at you in surprise.

"Check it." Clay's deep voice is enough to make you cringe and you helplessly watch as Tig scurries forward, unzipping the bag.

"Holy shit," Tig murmurs. He looks up at you and then at Clay, eyebrows raising. "Looks legit."

Your head hangs as you sigh, but then you quickly pull yourself together. Standing tall, head held high, you ask, "Who's the target?"

"One of your favorites which is why I sought you out for it," Suit says. "Specializes in human trafficking. Specifically children."

"Oh hell no," Gemma mutters.

"I don't have a uniform. I got rid of everything." The second duffel bag is tossed at your feet and you mentally roll your eyes. Of course. "You were so sure, weren't you?" You ask as you scoop up the duffel bag and place the strap on your shoulder.

"What can I say? I know the targets that'll bring you back into the fold no matter what. Once a Widow, always a Widow."

You flinch and then step towards Tig, zipping the bag up and taking it with you. Looking at Clay, you say, "I'll explain everything when I get back. I promise." The man in charge looks you up and down, and you're just grateful he's not raging at you for keeping secrets. He nods and then you glance at Opie. "Can I use your dorm to change?"

"Yeah. Come on."

Without meeting anyone else's gaze, you follow after Opie and grab Lyla's hand on the way. Opie leads you to the dorms, using his key to open up his own personal dorm. Once inside, you toss the duffel bag full of cash onto his bed and walk into the bathroom without a word with the other bag still hanging from your shoulder.

Setting the bag on the sink, you unzip it and sigh. It's your suit- shoes, holsters, and weapons included. Then with another sigh, you strip and get redressed in the appropriate clothing. The black skintight, reinforced body suit still fits like a glove. You slip into your shoes before grabbing your belt and clipping it on. The thigh holsters clip onto your belt to make sure they don't slip off and then you holster your glocks into each one. There's another holster that you slip your arms into, clipping it together along your collarbones, while a triangular pack sits between your shoulder blades. You slip two electric batons into the pack so their handles sit just above your shoulders, and then you wrap two bracelets with widow bites around your wrists.

You quickly tie your hair up into a ponytail and once you're finished, you toss the empty bag under the sink. Steeling yourself, you clear your mind and then step back out into Opie's room.

Lyla and Opie's eyes widen when they see you.

"What the hell have you gotten yourself into, kid?"

You gulp. "When I told you everything that happened to me? That was the watered down version," you quietly tell them. "The full version is.. it's worse. Way worse. But I can't explain right now. I have a job to carry out."

Lyla steps forward, eyes filling with tears. "You don't have to do this."

"I do." You allow your expression to fall for a brief moment before schooling it once more. "Keep the money hidden until I get back, yeah? And if you guys are willing to hear me out, I'll explain everything then."

Opie stares you down. "What you said about the human trafficking, that was real, right? It wasn't just something to get us to trust you?"

"All real," you say. "I just didn't mention what the human trafficking was for. Or that I remembered every goddamn detail of it."

He looks at you and then tersely nods. "Okay. I can't speak for the rest of the guys, but I'll hear you out."

"Thank you."

Opie then cracks a grin. "The guys are gonna flip when they see you in this get-up. Especially Juice. I think our little Puerto Rican has a crush on you."

"Yeah? Well I doubt it'll go anywhere now when he realizes just how much blood I have on my hands. Now let's go. The sooner I leave, the sooner I can get back."

Opie turns to open the door, but Lyla steps up to you, grabbing your hands and squeezing them in comfort. "For what it's worth, I'll love you no matter what. You're my little sister, YN, and no matter what you have to tell us I'll still be there for you."

"Thanks, Ly." She smiles as she rests her forehead against yours, and then looks up to kiss your forehead.

Opie and Lyla walk out ahead of you, and you take a moment to slip back into the person you were raised to be. With confidence oozing out of your every pore, you walk back out into the front of the clubhouse.

Juice is the first to spot you and as predicted, he's stunned. His jaw drops open, his eyes widen, and one by one the Sons look to see what's got him speechless.

"Holy shit," Jax's own eyes widen. "YN?"

"I think I got myself a new fetish," Tig says.

Letting a smirk slide across your lips, you saunter forward until you're standing next to the suit. Feet shoulder width apart and hands clasped behind your back, you nod at those you've slowly come to see as family. "Thank you for taking me in. When I get back, we'll have a much needed discussion."

"Damn right we will," Clay says.

You nod at him and then glance at Gemma, Clay's very own wife, and are relieved to see the amusement in eyes. Her gaze darts between you, Juice and Happy, and you're surprised to see the heat both men are staring at you with. You've caught Juice stare at you that way a few times, but not so obvious like he is now and Happy.. well that's new.

"I'll see you all soon."

Suit touches your elbow and you loosen your stance before turning on your heel, marching after your temporary boss.

It's been two weeks since you've been back to the clubhouse, but to be fair you were buying a house and getting your shit in order. It wasn't too close to Teller-Morrow Automotive in case the club took issue with your past and didn't want you around, but you weren't going to let their distrust of you drive a wedge between you and Lyla. You had just reconnected with your sister and you'll be damned if you're forced to leave her yet again.

So you found a house, purchased it, decorated it, and briefly settled in before deciding to head back over to the clubhouse.

Dressed comfortably, you grab a duffel bag you had thrown into your closet and slide into your brand-new black Chevrolet Camaro to drive towards Teller-Morrow. The sun has gone down by the time you get there, but it seems like they've got a party going on. And not wanting to do this in front of everybody, you head back over to your own house and text your sister. You tell her you're ready to explain your story and those who wish to hear are more than welcome to come over. You text her the address to your home before making yourself a cup of tea and sitting outside on your porch to wait.

Twenty minutes later and the roaring of motorcycle engines pierce the still night air. The house and property you had chosen was well away from any dwelling, but it was the kind of isolation you approved of. Numerous headlights dot the dirt road leading up to your house, followed by the headlights of a large SUV.

Clay and Jax lead the way, followed by Opie, Tig, Bobby, Chibs, Juice and Happy. When the SUV parks, you smile as Lyla readily hops out and eagerly jogs up to meet you on the porch. Gemma's not that far behind either.

Lyla immediately pulls you into a hug, exhaling in relief, but it's Gemma who says, "Hey, baby, job go well?"

You grin at her over Lyla's shoulder. "So well I took another. Head on in." You gesture to the front door. "Let's take a seat in the living room."

Gemma heads in without having to be told twice and you pull out of Lyla's embrace to tug her along. Opie flashes you a grin, ruffling your hair, and you swat at him then at Jax as he tries to do the same. You push Lyla inside and then Clay, Chibs, and Bobby give you a nod as they walk in behind your sister.

"Aw. No suit?" Tig frowns.

"Stop sexualizing my suit. It's weird."

"It's hot."

"I murder people in that suit."

"Even hotter."

You snort, chuckling as Happy shoves Tig into your house. "Thanks, Happy."

He shrugs. "He's not wrong."

"Jesus Christ." Happy flashes a faint grin before heading inside and then Juice stops right in front of you. You grin at him. "If you tell me my suit does it for you too, I'm gonna kick your ass."

"Fine. I won't say a thing."

"Good."

"But-"

"Nope. Inside." You shove at Juice, smiling at his laugh as you continue to push him inside your house. Everyone's grabbed a seat in your living room and you walk up, setting your empty cup on a side table. Exhaling, you tuck your hands into the back pockets of your jeans. "Alright, so first thing first, the whole ordeal I told you about human trafficking, that was real. I just didn't give the details of what the human trafficking ring was for."

"What exactly was it for?" Jax wonders.

"The KGB had a program to train little girls in combat and espionage. It's not hard to mentally break a child, put her on a strict diet and start her on lessons." You shrug, desensitized to what you've been through. "As soon as I got there, we were put on strict diets and had a workout routine. Then we had etiquette lessons and ballet lessons, and then they moved on to combat. It was basically a fight ring for little girls and those who didn't make it, they died."

Lyla gasps, hand flying to her mouth.

"Once we were trained nice and good in combat, weapons training started. We had to kill our first victim by thirteen. If we didn't, we would be mentally broken all over again before being told to try again."

"Jesus Christ." Bobby shakes his head in disbelief.

You sigh. "At sixteen, the seduction lessons start. And then at graduation, you're sterilized. After all, the KGB couldn't have their little assassins getting knocked up and becoming distracted."

Everyone's stunned quiet.

"How do we know you're not lying?" Clay asks.

Your right hand wraps around a USB drive in your back pocket before you pull it out and toss it at Juice who catches it with ease. "That's every file they had on me from the early days when they took me up until after graduation. There's a laptop under the TV already plugged in. Watch it if you have any doubts."

Juice looks at Clay and the elder man gives him the go ahead. Juice scrambles out of his seat, heading towards your TV and the laptop residing on the shelf underneath it. You walk over behind the seat your sister is sitting on, standing behind her and crossing your arms over your chest as you mentally prepare yourself for what everyone's about to see.

Juice sits beneath your TV with the laptop in his lap, everything on the laptop being showcased on TV for all to see. He's mumbling to himself as he clicks through the files, searching for the videos that'll backup your story. He finds them and immediately plays the first one.

The first video is shaky and a bit grainy, and it shows exactly what you first told them. The person handling the camera walks up to the back of what appears to be an 18-wheeler and the moment the door is pushed up, the terrified screams and cries of little girls pierce through the speakers. Your eye twitches, but you continue to watch as they pull every single of you out- faces tear stained and little bodies trembling. One by one, girls are either chosen or waved off, and then the video cuts out as soon as gunshots ring out.

The next video shows a small group of girls huddled together wearing nothing by white tank tops and underwear. Lyla gasps when the camera passes over you and you reach forward to grab onto her shoulder to remind her you're home. On the screen, the girls are being measured and weighed, and then told what each girl can or cannot eat.

You're fine watching the process of everything you've been through, but the moment they get to when the combat training starts, your facade cracks. The first fight you'd been in leaves you bloodied and crying, and thrown into an isolation room where you scream and cry some more for your mom, dad, and sister. At ten years old, they threaten that if you don't start giving it your all then they're going to kill you and go after your sister. That makes Lyla and Opie tense, and you end up having to quietly assure them all those people are dead. There is no more threat.

With the threat of them taking your sister hanging over your head, you become better. You lose a couple more fights, but the fights that truly count are the ones you win and graduate to the next level with. Weapons training was a breeze since you actually paid attention to that, assembling and disassembling coming very easy to you. But the moment you have a gun in hand, aiming it at a person tied to a chair with a sack over his head, you hesitate. The trainers see it and you're tossed into another isolation room. When the video cuts to silent footage of you sitting in the corner with your hands pressed to your ears and screaming your lungs out, you wince.

"What did they make you listen to?" Gemma asks.

"They'd replicated my parent's and Lyla's voices," you admit. "I had to listen to them telling me to do what I was told and then Lyla screaming as if she was being murdered."

"How did you know it wasn't real?" Opie asks, voice rough.

"Because when they finally pulled me out, they told me that the next time it wouldn't be a fake recording."

The next video footage is of you in the shooting range again, expression blank and aim true. You pull the trigger three times before effortlessly switching hands, shooting another three times. This time when there's a bound man sitting in front of you, you don't bat an eye before pulling the trigger.

There's more combat training, more brutal than before, and ballet lessons that completely confuse everyone. They watch as you go from a terrified eight year old girl to a disciplined, lethal eighteen year old. There's an entire graduation ceremony where those who survived the lessons are in black catsuits while scientists, doctors, and generals applaud all around you. And then it ends with you in a hospital gown, laying on a surgical gurney while being pushed into a surgical room.

When the videos end, no one utters a word.

"I.. have so much blood on my hands," you say. "I didn't want you to know who I was and then prevent me from being with my sister."

"We all have blood on our hands, kid," Clay says.

"Not like me."

"No, not like you," he agrees. You hold Clay's stare as he figures out what his next step is. Eventually, he sighs after glancing between you and Lyla. "Do you plan to continue this line of business?"

"I hadn't," you admit. "But money is money and after purchasing this land and this house, I'm gonna need some form of income."

"Is there any way this will blow back on your sister or the club?"

"Nah. When I take a mission, I wear someone else's face. Mine is never on display unless it's pure recon."

"Wear someone else's face?" Juice wonders.

"Photostatic veil. I got all kinds of cool gadgets." Juice's eyes light up and you grin. You have a feeling he's going to love the basement of your house where all the weapons and gadgets and computers reside. "I'll show you sometime."

"No matter what I say, you ain't leavin', are 'ya?" Clay asks.

You shrug. "If you really don't want me around, I'll steer clear of the club, but I'm not leaving Lyla."

"I figured." You smile as he huffs. "As long as you don't endanger my club, I don't give a shit what you do."

"Aw. You're sweet." Clay rolls his eyes as everyone chuckles. The tension in the room ebbs away and you walk over to the hall closet. "And as thanks for looking out for my sister and being so cool when I first got here," from the closet, you pull out a duffel bag and rejoin everyone before tossing the bag onto the coffee table, "that's for you. Well for the club, but yeah."

"Is that- is that what I think it is?" Tig asks, eyes sparkling as he stares at the bag.

"Why don't you open it and find out."

Tig scrambles out of his seat and quickly unzips the duffel bag. He barks out a laugh, pulling out stack after stack of cash.

"YN?" Lyla turns in her seat, staring up at you in awe and you shrug at her.

"I took a second job while I was away. Wasn't a big fish, but he still had a decent penny attached to his name."

"Holy shit." Juice is next to Tig, pulling out stacks of money too. "How much is in here?"

"A hundred and fifty grand." Chibs swears as he's tossed a stack and you chuckle. "Divide it up, pay off debt, or do whatever. Every other job will be a generous donation to my new favorite MC so long as my identity stays between us. It won't do any good if everyone knows I'm a Black Widow."

"I feel like a sugar baby. Is this what being a sugar baby feels like?" Juice asks.

Jax snorts as he stands up, heading for you. He pulls you into a hug, kissing your temple. "Thanks, darling. You have no idea how much this money is going to help us out."

"Yeah, well.."

"I got a question," Gemma says. She waits until she has your attention, until Jax slings an arm around your shoulders and faces his mom too, and then continues on. "Have you ever met that Captain America fella?"

Everyone seems to exhale in relief and you laugh. "Actually, yeah. I had to get Natasha to set me up with my legal documents and he flew out with her to deliver them."

"And?" She raises an eyebrow at you.

"And.." You shrug. "And nothing."

"Oh bullshit. He as good looking as he looks on TV?"

Your nose wrinkles as you shrug again. "He's okay. Not really my type."

Lyla scoffs. "Please. Captain America is everyone's type."

"Hey." Everyone chuckles at Opie's pout.

"Nah. He's too.. clean cut. If I had to choose someone, I'd choose his best friend Sergeant Barnes."

"The Winter fuckin' Soldier!" Juice exclaims. "Seriously?!"

"Oh hell yeah." You grin. "That broody, long haired, metal armed man.." You trail off, humming in delight as Lyla and Gemma bark out a laugh at the glint you get in your eye. "That man looks like he can fuck."

"That man looks like he'll murder you!"

"If I got out during sex with that metal hand wrapped around my throat, I'd die a happy woman."

"Jesus Christ," Tig swears. The poor man looks a little too turned on as he stares at you, but surprisingly he doesn't hit on you. "Are you sure you're Lyla's baby sister?"

"We got the DNA test to prove it."

Mostly everyone is still chuckling as Jax tights his arm around you. "Well I know one thing for sure, life just got a whole lot more interesting in Charming with its very own Black Widow now residing here."

#soa gen fic x reader #sons of anarchy imagine #soa imagine #marvel imagine #lyla winston #opie winston #juice ortiz #jax teller #gemma teller #clay morrow #tig trager #happy lowman #sons of anarchy #marvel

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