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reaperandscythe · 1 year

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Willing To Wait pt.3

Part 1 , Part 2

This part was written for the one and only Madame Teefus @withmyteeth and my clingy brain that just would not let these two go! Enjoy!

Chibs x Female OC one shot

18+ ONLY BLOG * MINORS GO AWAY!!

2k words

Reblog! Talk to me! Tap that heart emoji like it sends me a thrill...cuz it does ;)

SOA belongs to Kurt, Khia and this story belong to me and my wandering eye belongs to Chibs. (sorry Juice)

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Here we go.....

Khia had no strength left to hold herself up, least of all the two of them so down they went. Matching ragged panting breaths sounded off mixed with their soft chuckles and a few ‘dear gods’ from Khia - her vocalizations into the mattress, his into her shoulder. Chibs dislodged himself rolling over onto his back, absolutely limp. Muttering a final, “Christ.”

Several minutes passed and it was Khia spoke first. “You sure about no more videos?”

*****************

Too spent to do anything but share a bottle of water, they lay sprawled across the bed. “Food.”

“Hmmm?” Chibs hummed out from the edges of a sex coma.

“I need food.”

“Ya cookin’ then?”

“I’m ordering.”

“Mmmm. Ya always were a brilliant one, hen.”

Khia drug herself out of the bed to locate her phone. Slipping back into her panties and tank top, she bumped into the doorway on her way out. The chuckle that filled the quiet behind her made her smile, too. “Shut yer yap.”

“I’ll not,” he smirked at her retreating back. Sitting up he asked, “Ya need a lil’ help with walkin’, lass?”

“Arrogance kills!” she hollered back, giggling at the sound of the snort of laughter that came out of him.

0.o.0.o.0

With food on the way they giggled and flirted through a mostly PG shower, settling into learned domestic bliss. Full and rested Chibs sat propped up on pillows against their headboard with his glasses perched on the end of his nose, reading the book he kept on the nightstand for the rare times he had at home like these. Khia was snuggled up next to him wrapping herself around his arm, forcing him to use his other hand to turn the pages. He could feel her looking at him.

“Wha’ tis it, pet?”

“Nothing…your glasses are cute.”

“So ya say every time ya see me wearin’ em.”

“Well, they are.”

Putting his book down in his lap. “Why do I feel like yer about ta ask me fer somethin’ ya know is too expensive?”

“I am not!” Khia giggled, smacking him on his bare chest, “You saying I spend too much?”

“Of course not,” he chuckled and picked his book back up. “You’re perfect, love.” The lingering kiss he turned his head to leave on her temple, was sweet and warm.

“Oh? That’s not something else you want to tame in me?”

Chibs’ chuckle was a rumble in his chest this time. Putting his book down on his leg, he opened his arm for her to snuggle into his chest. Dropping a double kiss on her forehead, he murmured, “Nae, I wouldn’ change a thing, yeah?”

“Mmmm,” He could feel her cheek raise up with her smile, enjoying her hand stroking back and forth across his chest, her nails gently scratching across his million dollar bill tattoo there. “One day you just might tame me.”

His hand rested on his book, “Oh no, I want you wild. Ya don’ break every filly.”

"Yeah?" When her nails scratched over his nipple, it drew up tight sending sparks across his chest. Just below his chest plate they continued creeping lower working their diabolical magic, the drag of her nails leaving a trail of tingles, rendering him momentarily unable to continue participating in their banter.

Her hand drifted lower to his navel making him adjust his position. Damn her. Scratching into the trail of dark hair that started there, calling her fingertips to follow the path.

Chibs hissed when she tucked her fingers into the waistband of his pajama pants and used her fingernails to lightly skate over the hairs surrounding his rapidly growing dick.

“Still you could always try.”

Chibs groaned as she curled her fist around his length, beginning a slow stroke while she turned her body into him, leaning up into his neck. Nipping and opening her mouth wide to suck in as much of the flesh there as she could, laving her tongue over it once it was trapped in the suction of her vacuuming lips. She loved it, his neck. Slightly elongated, a clear biteable tendon on each side, an distractingly smooth Adam’s apple, plus knowing he was extra sensitive just below the ear was a mouth-watering bonus. Yeah, she loved it.

Letting the book slide off of his thigh, he shifted under the spell she was casting, “You were a ruiner of education in school weren’t ya?”

She took her hand out of his pants and patted his stomach,“There, better? You could keep reading if you like,” she smiled into his neck, “I’ll just be here.”

And the war of wills began. Chibs picked his book up again, finding his place and tried in vain to read. Every time she ran her tongue around to the back of his neck his closed his eyes and had to find the paragraph he was reading again.

“Is it good?”

“Yeah,” he sighed out.

“Your book, I mean.”

His chuckle was low, “It’s entertainin’.”

“Your eyes were closed Filip, what were you thinking about?”

“Nothin' cept those marks yer leavin’ on me.”

“Oh, you want me to stop?” She climbed into his lap and began to puruse the neglected side of his neck with his hand squeezing her thigh.

“Those words leave my mouth?” he sighed.

“They better not. I'm happy to leave a whole damn necklace on you.”

Chibs chuckled, tossing his book to the floor. Wrapping his arms around her, taking her down onto the mattress, rolling over till he was on top of her. He smiled down into her face, all dreamy eyed and soft, “I’m not one fer jewlery but tha necklace sounds lov-er-ly.”

His hand fingered the hair bunched at her neck, fanning it out on the bed before he leaned down to her. His lips softly pressing a kiss almost chaste to the corner of her mouth. Hovering, he drifted from top lip to bottom lip, skating his nose across hers, his lips over her chin, warming the skin he chose to play with. The kiss that came next was heated and deep with Khia wrapping her arms around his neck to return it. Tongues in a twirling dance as old as time. Close wasn’t close enough, she felt every ounce of love he had for her but she needed more. Suddenly rolling again, he dumped her face down, kissing down her back until he got to his favorite thing. Running both palms over her buttocks he squeezed them, drawing her panties up and into the split between them for more unrestricted skin to caress, smothering them in open mouthed kisses, sending jolts of nerve tremors down her legs and tingles up her spine.

“I missed this lot,” he breathed hot over her smooth, soft backside.

Khia rested her head on her arms, “Should I leave you three alone?”

“Aye,” he groaned, squeezing with both hands. “If ya wouldn’ mind.”

“Oh, I bet you would!” Laughing Khia bucked her hips to bounce him off so Chibs crawled up and frog splashed down on her.

“Oh!” She choked out, “For the love of god, you're rowdy!”

He bit the back of her neck, chuckling low and dirty, grinding his hardness in the crevice between her soft cheeks, “You love it.”

“Damn it, I do.” Khia relaxed under his wandering mouth and hands, feeling the torrent between her legs kick off again as he pulled her head up by her hair to kiss her, arching her back, making her strain to get to what she wanted. This man…my man.

She sucked in air as he got on all fours surrounding her, turning his head, nibbling and kissing down her side. Pushing her arms up out of the way, biting the sides of her breasts but not turning her over to get to the stiffened nipples her created. His hands tucked in under her hips, his fingers dragging the sensitive hollows, making her crave the relief of his fingers diving further. Chibs was operating on pure instinct, tactile - expertly exploiting every area as if he was being paid per gasp and moan.

With a whimper of surrender, she drew her knee up opening herself to him. Undulating her hips, she turned her head to the side to receive more bites and suckles on her neck and ears. “Mmmm, I need you inside me.”

Chibs adjusted his position slightly to pull off his pants and guided himself into her, settling in for deep, languid strokes. The shadowy light the lamp cast on their entwined limbs was a beauty all its own. The twin pose of one leg straight down and slightly out with the other high and bent at the knee likened to an artsy photo of sensual intimacy. The contrast of her tanned skin to his paler hue. The motion smooth and tender, moving as one. The slow grind of her hips, his hand pressed into the bed for leverage, the other with fingers entwined above her head. The measured, scooping thrusts rippling his back and tightening his ass in a decadent captured glimpse of love's lust. No rushing, just the intoxicated pleasure that time together affords the most blessed. High moans and sweet sighs of her sweet Scot’s name filled the room. Rumbled whispers of love lasting beyond the trials that SAMCRO brings were breathed against her ear.

Changing positions, Khia rode in his lap, her legs wrapped around his waist, ankles crossed behind him. Face to face they rocked, clinging to each other until gasps of new found pleasure began. Khia licked the sweat from the dip below his Adam’s apple, latching on to his neck with a ferocity indicative of her drive to come. Using her heels to press him in deep enough to massage her clit with the bump of flesh at his shaft’s base, her broken whimpers were driving him to grip her harder, both desperate to quicken the pace to be satisfied.

“Christ, love! Hold on.”

Needing more, Chibs held on tight to her extending his legs to put her on her back. The shifting of limbs smooth and notably effective because the second he lifted her legs to his shoulders and buried his first stroke deep inside of her, she exploded in an appreciative cry so saturated with her drunken pleasure her voice was unrecognizable.

“Filip, my g--! Oh! Th-th--! There!”

And ‘there’ he did pound. Driving into her with wanton aggression, he closed his eyes and bulldozed until his cries matched hers in volume and plea. Just moments later, she was digging her nails into his forearms, paralyzed by her release, a silent scream lodged in her throat. Her body jerking and twisting, legs crashing down from his shoulders, her spasming, gripping walls gloriously tortured by Chibs’ last strokes before he too came more forcefully than he thought possible after the long day and previous sessions they had. Heat flashed over his body, his eyes widened and mouth fell open unprepared for the intensity of the first burst of hot, thick liquid that shot out of him. His pause in motion allowed Khia to finally release the scream that was due. She wrapped her legs around his hips, her heels locked on his calves to ride out the breath-stealing spasms and endless convulsions wrecking them both. Again, his breathless groans matched her shuddering cries, until they could come down. They lay with chests heaving, loudly twin panting and cursing until she could unwind herself from around him, boneless.

Chibs lay on her, feeling the remaining heat and sweat where their bodies still touched. “I luv you,” he breathed out across her chest. Khia dug her fingers into his damp hair, palming his head in her grip to keep him pressed against her, closing her eyes. “And I love you.”

Minutes passed by before Chibs spoke again. ��Love?”

“Mmmm?" was all she could get out.

“Send all tha fuckin’ videos ya wan’. "

He couldn’t see her cheeks raise up in an exhausted, victorious grin.

- fin -

A/N: FIN for real this time ;) 💜kjx💜

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reaperandscythe · 1 year

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Prospecting

Mayans MC

Summary: EZ isn’t taking his duties seriously and Bishop decides to step in and give a lesson to his prospect.

Warnings: NSFW 18+ ONLY, smut, oral sex, consensual spanking, squirting, displays of dominance; EZ x Reader, Bishop x Reader, 2.6k words

Author’s note: Is this out of character? Maybe. Do I give a shit? No.

**Reblogs and comments are encouraged!!**

************************************************

Sitting at the bar, you watch as EZ goes about restocking booze for another get together at the clubhouse. Part of being a prospect was being a barback, apparently, as when you came with him to hang out, he spent more time behind the bar than he did with you.

You woke up feeling a special kind of way this morning, wanting to spend the day in bed with your man, but he was oblivious to all of it. Getting dressed this morning should have been his first clue that you needed attention. Your shorts barely covered your ass, any type of movement either had a cheek popping out the bottom or your crack flirting with the top. And it’s not like you could pull your shirt down to hide it, the scrap of material that used to be a t-shirt was missing the sleeves and most of its bottom, a deep, torn V showing your cleavage when you leaned forward and the frayed edges, some under boob when you stretched back, like you were doing now.

You watched EZ who was too busy counting bottles and writing things down on the clipboard to even notice your tits were almost hanging out. Dropping your arms and glancing towards the end of the bar, you just see Bishop shift his eyes from you, then to EZ before flicking them back down to the paper in front of him. Bishop was the only other person in the bar right now, enjoying his morning smoke while he caught up on the latest happenings in Santo Padre.

Biting your lip, you try to think of another way to get EZ’s attention. Hopping off your stool, you walk across the bar. The click of your heels echoing the empty room only adds to your mood, swinging your hips more than necessary just to make your ass jiggle.

Turning on your heel on the other side of the room, you look back to EZ to see that he didn’t even notice you had gotten up from the bar, his back turned to you. You roll your eyes in frustration, hands on your hips as you glance around the pool tables. Not taking your eyes off EZ, you reach out like a disgruntled cat and knock over a pool cue that was leaning up against the wall, already bending over to pick it up before it hits the ground. You weren’t bending at the knee like a lady either, your legs were straight, ass in the air, angled just right so EZ could get a full view of what he was missing out on.

“Everything alright over there?” EZ asks the question without even turning around.

You roll your eyes, grabbing the cue before answering in a flat voice, “Just fine.”

“Templo, now,” Bishop barks from the end of the bar, causing you to jump and almost drop the cue stick again. He fixes his eyes on you and adds, “Both of you.”

Your heart pounds. You’ve never been in the back room of the clubhouse that was used for club meetings. EZ glances between you and Bishop, who has already gone down the hallway and yanked the door open, waiting for you two to follow him. EZ gestures for you to go first, so you slowly walk in front him, now hating how your heels are echoing down the hallway. When you cross the threshold, you stop just far enough inside the room for EZ to walk in beside you and Bishop slides the door shut.

“You, sit. At the table,” Bishop says, pointing a finger at EZ.

Whatever has pissed off the President has you literally shaking in your boots, your previous arousal turning to anxiety in the presence of the fuming man in front of you. You watch as he walks slowly around the table, pulling out the ornate chair at the front before slowly sitting down, resting his elbow on the arm, bringing the last of his cigarette from the bar up to his lips, sucking it down to the filter in one go. He snuffs it out in the ashtray before looking up at you and blowing the smoke out of his nose. EZ hasn’t said a word since you entered the room, but you cannot pry your eyes away from Bishop to look at him.

“Come here, sweetheart,” Bishop says, patting his lap. The confusion shows on your face as you risk a glance at EZ, who is looking at Bishop with his brows furrowed. “I’m not going to ask twice.”

Almost before you make the decision to, your legs are moving you towards Bishop, the commanding tone of his voice not giving you another option. When you stand in front of him, he takes your hand in his, placing the other one on your lower back, guiding you to sit on his leg, so your legs are between his and you are facing EZ who is sitting two chairs down on Bishop’s left.

“What’s goi-,”

“Shut. The. Fuck. Up,” Bishop growls at EZ before he can even get the question finished. You suck in a breath, your spine going rigid against Bishop’s hand rubbing small circles on the smooth skin of your lower back. EZ’s mouth had snapped shut at the command from his President. His hands are clenched on the table, the veins of his arms starting to pop out from his restraint as anger lights his face. Slowly, you bring your eyes back to Bishop who is looking at you with his head tilted, eyes hooded. “This beautiful lady has been practically begging for you to fuck her all morning, and you’ve been completely ignoring her.”

“I was bu-,”

“You will speak when I tell you that you’ve fucking got something worth saying. Put that brain of yours to use and shut the fuck up,” Bishop says, snapping his head back to EZ. You can feel your eyes going wide and your mouth opens. Is this what this is about? You’ve been prancing around the clubhouse all morning like a cat in heat and Bishop is pissed that EZ isn’t doing anything about it? Glancing down at the President, you can see the heat in his eyes, feel his hand cupping your ass now, where it is pressed against his leg. His other hand is lightly running his fingers up and down your thigh, getting closer to your barely-there shorts on every pass and your arousal returns ten fold.

Your nipples pebble under your shirt and you can tell when Bishop notices because a smirk starts to pull at one side of his lips as he turns his attention fully on you, ignoring EZ completely.

“Now, sweetheart, you don’t need to be a genius to see that this kid ain’t taking care of your needs, so tell me, what is it you're missing out on?” Bishop practically purrs the question into your ear, but you know it was loud enough for EZ to hear. Glancing over at him, you can see the shock on his face, but before you can analyze it anymore, Bishop’s finger on your chin turns your gaze back to him. “No, sweetheart, he’s already proved he’s not taking care of you. Tell me what he’s doing wrong, and I’ll show you how it’s done right.”

Biting your bottom lip, you think back to all the things you wanted EZ to do to you in bed this morning that instead of doing, he drug you to the bar instead. Deciding, fuck it, if Bishop wants to play this game and EZ isn’t protesting, you would play.

“Well, when I ask him to pull my hair while he’s behind me, he doesn’t pull it hard enough,” you start, voice quiet in the empty room.

“Oh, don’t be shy now, sweetheart, you’ve been flaunting yourself in front of me all morning. Tell me,” Bishop says.

“When I’m being a brat, and he tries to spank me, he only ever spanks my ass, not my -,”

“You’re telling me he doesn’t spank that pretty little pussy of yours? Prospect, have I taught you nothing?” EZ is either too shocked to answer or realizes Bishop doesn’t really want an answer because he stays quiet. “What else?”

“When I, uh, ride his face, he only let’s me come once. Won’t let me squirt on his face.” You are shocked at the words that are coming out of your mouth. Even more shocking, you realize that while talking, your hips have started grinding lightly on Bishop’s thigh, seeking the friction from the seam in your shorts as you can feel the denim wetting.

“Leave it to the prospect to pull a girl that squirts, then not let her do it,” Bishop says, sliding his hand up your back to cup your head, pulling you closer to him. “I’m going to fix it, sweetheart,” he says as he crashes hip lips to yours. Your hands come up to his chest, but you don’t know whether to push him away or pull him deeper into the kiss. Just as you start to kiss him back, his fingers tighten in your hair, and he rips your head back from his mouth, pulling your hair, hard, and you can’t help the moan that escapes your mouth. “See that, Prospect, she loves it when you get rough with her.”

Sitting on your boyfriend’s President's lap with his hand pulling your hair so hard you have your back arched, tits on display, you can agree you do. He pulls on your hair, making you stand before he does as well. He then guides you until your hips hit the table, pushing your head until your face is flat against the wood, turned towards EZ. Only then do you look at him. The anger in his eyes has turned to something else, something dark and hot that you haven’t seen before and you wonder what you have gotten yourself into.

Bishop yanks on your shorts, pulling them down your legs without even unbuttoning them, exposing your ass to him.

“No panties, huh? What are we going to do about that?” You didn’t even think to brace yourself when the sharp smack lands on your ass. You let out a hiss at the sting, Bishop already rubbing his hand over the sensitive area to soothe it. “Lift,” Bishop says, bending slightly to finish removing your shorts. Once those are tossed to the side, he runs his fingers up the back of your leg sending a shiver down your spine. He notices the tremble of your body and you hear him chuckle. “See, the trick is, Boy Scout, you tease them first, just light touches.” His hand is all over your body at once it feels like. Light touches to your ass, lower back, down the back of your thighs, feather light enough you wouldn’t be sure he was touching you except for the goosebumps trailing behind his fingers. He keeps getting close to your swollen lips, but not actually touching them, always changing direction before making contact. His other hand is still wrapped in your hair, pressing your face into the table. Your hands flat on the wood at the sides of your shoulders, like you were being held down trying to do a push up.

The light touches soon have you squirming, the lower part of your body overly sensitive, every nerve standing at attention and before you can stop it, a whine escapes from low in your throat. EZ’s eyes snap from yours to Bishop and you have a second’s warning from EZ’s widened eyes before Bishop's hand comes down, hard, on your wet lips. Your sharp intake of breath has EZ looking back to your eyes and you shut your eyes, biting your lip at the delicious sting on your most sensitive area.

“What do you see, Prospect?”

“She’s got her eyes closed, biting her lip, cheeks are red,” EZ says, his voice low and husky.

“You think she liked that?”

“I think she fucking loved it.”

Your eyes pop open at EZ’s response and you are shocked to see the new man sitting in front of you. You and EZ had gotten a little rough in the past, but as you had admitted to Bishop, it wasn’t enough. This EZ has dark eyes, full of promise, and a smirk on his lips that would make the devil blush. Before you can evaluate what that means for you, Bishop yanks you upright and grips the V of your shirt giving it a harsh tug and tearing it the rest of the way down so it falls open displaying your erect nipples. His hand, still wet from your juices, slaps down sharply on one nipple then the next, and you ball your hands into fists, clenching your thighs together which increases the tension on your hair and another moan escapes front the assault on your body.

“On the table, Prospect, head here,” Bishop says, touching his hand to the table directly in front of you. When EZ doesn’t move, Bishop barks, “NOW.”

You watch as he scrambles on top the table, laying on his back with his head where Bishop indicated. You look down his body and notice his pants are tented and knowing that he's been getting off on Bishop’s abuse of your body only makes you wetter.

“Now, sweetheart, I want you to climb on this table and sit on his face until you squirt. If he stops before you do, I’ll take his kutte. This club doesn’t need a quitter.”

Bishop removes his hand from your hair to help you up on the table and turns you around so when you sit down on EZ’s face, you are still facing him. He takes your hands and places them on his shoulders so you have some support. Before you can get fully centered, EZ reaches his hands to your hips and yanks you against his face, shoving his tongue into you as far as it will go. The sound that comes out of you isn’t something you are proud of, but from the looks on Bishop’s face, he is. As EZ starts to thrust his tongue in and out of you, your hips start rolling on his face, and your eyes slip closed. Fingers clamping on your nipple have your eyes popping back open.

“You look at me while he eats your pussy,” Bishop says, tugging on your sensitive nipple until you nod. Your mouth is open and you are breathing heavy. Your lips are already over sensitive from Bishop and now rubbing on EZ’s stubble as his tongue fucks your hole, you feel like you are ready to rattle apart. Your nails are digging into the leather gripping Bishop's shoulders as your hips start to stutter against EZ’s face, your orgasm ready to rip you in two.

“I’m gunna, I’m gunna,” you struggle to get the words out because your jaw is trembling from the pleasure washing through your body.

“Do it,” Bishop growls.

As the words leave his mouth, your orgasm thunders through you, your legs clamping onto EZ’s ears as you grind on his chin. Before you can fully recover, he chases your clit, dragging his teeth against it before pulling it between his lips and sucking, hard. You scream as you come again, feeling the rush of juices come out of you as you collapse against Bishop’s shoulder, arms and legs shaking from the intensity of your second orgasm in seconds.

“Good girl,” he murmurs in your ear. “Looks like your boyfriend here gets to keep his kutte.”

IF YOU LIKED THIS FIC, PLEASE REBLOG IT SO OTHERS CAN ENJOY IT, TOO!

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reaperandscythe · 1 year

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SOA Boys Bedroom Styles: Demons

A Tig Trager fan fic

After doing the SOA Bedroom Styles post

SOA Boys Bedroom Styles

...some of our boys really stuck in my head (like they didn't already live there). Definitely doing a fic for each of them now according to those opinions. Again...I had to. ;)

Tig x Female OC one shot

18+ ONLY BLOG *🚩MINORS GO AWAY!🚩

1.8k words

Warnings: darker than my usual stuff cuz its Tig - sexual depravity, bondage introduction, mental issues, domination

Reblog! Talk to me! Tap that heart emoji like it sends me a thrill...cuz it does ;)

SOA belongs to Kurt, this story belongs to me and I belong to The Boys.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

When Tig Trager went to pick up Gemma from the nail salon he thought it would be a quick pull up and go but she wasn’t ready. Cursing under his breath, he found an empty station to sit in, the toxic smell of the chemicals being used doing a full-on assault on his nose and eyes. Bored out of his mind, he looked around at the sparse clientele, stared out the window and rolled his eye countless times until she appeared in the glass. Tig watched her approach the door timidly as if she wasn’t sure she wanted to come in. A sweet looking thing, with light brown hair ending in sun-kissed tips, thick and heavy pulled back in a simple ponytail. She wore a fuchsia skirt that draped all the way to her feet and a white tshirt with barely enough tension over her chest to confirm she had one. When she stepped inside, Tig tried not to stare at her but the brown flakes in her green eyes against the tinted shade of her skin had him struggling to remain seated.

The nail tech that greeted her was walking her toward him, stopping in front of him. Fuck, he can’t stop staring. But she wouldn’t meet his eyes, they only flicker over his face then immediately dart elsewhere. He notices that she is wringing the fingers of her right hand, biting her lip. Tig couldn’t get a read on what was happening with her.

“Sir. Sir?”

Tig snapped out of it and looked at the nail tech that had been trying to get his attention for god knows how long.

“We need that chair, please.”

He jumped up, “Oh. Sorry, sweetheart.” Now that he was standing next to her, he figured her to be a good 5’8”.

“Here you go, darlin’. Sorry about that.” She was waiting for him to step away but he stood with his blue eyes locked on her face, holding her chair. As she slipped past him to sit down he closed his eyes, breathing deep. The luxurious smell of her rose above the sharp, acrid scent of the shop and hit him right in the dick. Stepping to the side, he sat in the newly emptied station next to theirs. She kept her eyes down, seemingly shy, nervous, which intrigued him even more.

The nail tech mistook his lingering for an attraction to herself. “If you needed a quick manicure I could --,”

“Do me?” The crass quips come as naturally to him as breathing and the object of his attention blushed like crazy.

Encouraged, the nail tech leaned over, “Let me see your hands.”

Teasing, he put them up in the air as if being held up. “Tig, right?” she said reading his cut. “Put ‘em right here.” She pressed one finger on the end of the tabletop closest to him.

"Yes ma'am." Tig swiveled in the chair to face her, putting his long legs as close to the tucked knees of his infatuation as he could without actually touching her. She blushed again, the deepened color only boosted the beauty in the warm hue of her skin. The nail tech chatted on having no idea she was forcing them closer together. He wouldn’t remember a word of her yammering because the woman he had been fucking in his mind for the past five minutes lifted her head and focused in on his face for the first time and Tig Trager went blank. His demons were waking up, chattering quietly in the back of his brain. Fuck. Me.

Hunting came naturally to him - so naturally that only women who were also hunters saw it in him. Other women saw a form of dangerous charm. A sexual deviant but in the best way. It intrigued them, tempted them but this one, this woman trying so hard not to squirm under his scrutiny, he would pursue…he had to have her. Giving her his phone number, leaving with Gemma, getting the text from her, agreeing to meet at the clubhouse…all of it was a blur. He needed to get closer to her, to the innocence he sniffed out in her…and the ‘something else’ that he couldn’t put his finger on. Meeting in the parking lot of the clubhouse turned into leaving for a quieter atmosphere and getting drinks. Getting drinks turned into dinner, which turned into a late dessert and a slow, tense walk back to his car.

Her eyes were so wide when he leaned in to kiss her. Her entire body trembled before he even introduced his tongue. She was so giving, opening her mouth for him, her hands in his hair were so sweet, the way they ran over his back was soothing yet stirring him up. It took every bit of control he had not devour her right there in the parking lot. His demons were screaming so loud gave him a slight headache. The remaining clear part of his brain begged him, Stop...just take her to her car. He broke away from her abruptly, tearing his eyes away from the confused, kiss-drunk look on her face.

She watched him on the drive home, twisting her fingers in her lap. He knew she wanted to know what she did wrong. He would explain tomorrow or never, he didn’t know. Just drive! Drive! He would have made it but her eyes were on him...longing, apologizing. And she chose right when he looked over at her to wet her lips. Lips still puffy from his kisses. Lips that felt so good just moments ago. Shit.

Tig swerved his car around the corner, again and again until he found a dark street, lined with industrial buildings and drug her across the seat to kiss her. I’m sorry. The sweetness she had in her had his hands trembling. He moaned into her willing mouth as she clung to him, pulling him closer. Something about the dark gave her courage, and emboldened her hands to search under his shirt. It gave her the mettle to cup him through his jeans. His tongue and teeth raked the tender skin of her neck to hear more of her gasping breaths, more of her whispers to a deity that would never condone what he was about to do. With his hands full of her breasts could feel himself slipping down into the scent of her perfume and shampoo…and her arousal. Four hands pulled and tugged roughly at clothes, two mouths explored, bit and licked, and one man was losing control.

A dangerous hum was in his ears, a familiar heat settling on his skin, the feeling was like a drug in his veins. She offered no protest to him pulling her billowing skirt up around her waist when he positioned her to straddle him. Pulling her panties aside he stroked her parted place, demanding her mouth by way of a fistful of her hair, swallowing her delicious cries, relishing in the way she rode his fingers. Disregarding the safety of a condom, he tore at the side of her panties and plunged inside of her without warning, needing to feel every degree of her heat and he was not disappointed. Her drenched, reacting walls seized him in a searing grip, slamming his eyes closed and forcing a deep groan out of his chest. They squeezed and fluttered while she gasped into his mouth, adjusting to his thickness, clinging to him. But Tig was slipping away and his demons were rising up fast. Her eyes flew open when she felt the cold metal on her wrist, instinctively pulling away.

"Hey," he whispered, shaking his head slightly. "No, baby."

His hands caressed her arms, sliding down to her wrists while he looked into her eyes, "You're okay."

He kissed her lips gently, tracing a path of kisses lower. “Don’t. Fight,” he breathed into her neck. The tension left her body instantly and his demons cheered.

With her staring into his eyes, he finished cuffing her hands behind her back to his steering wheel. Her body’s response to the final sliding clicks was a long clench deep in her tunnel that shocked a gasp out of him and set him back into motion, fucking up into her hard and fast. There was nothing she could do while he ravished her, holding her hips steady while slamming up into her, twisting her nipples till she cried out for it to stop. Tweaking her clit even while she was exploding all over his dick. Her sobs of helplessness mixed with her cries of pleasure - all absorbed by Tig, fueling his blood with a new staying power he’d be afraid of if he was capable of thought. Her screams of confused ecstasy echoed inside the car, bouncing sharp off of the windows. His indecent chants and insults sent her into convulsions again, turning his lap into a splash zone, his jeans soaked with her juices. And still he wanted more, so he took it.

It was beautiful. It was perfect. It was over. He swore he’d never see her again but his demons were in his ear. They told him just the right words to cajole Juice into finding her. They used his fingers to enter her address into his GPS. They turned every red light to green on his drive over. They snatched him off of his bike and shoved him toward her front door lifting his hand to knock at 1am.

And after he had a taste of her in her own home, in her bed…they kept him going back. Banging on her door with his fist after exacting revenge in the name of SAMCRO. After taking back what belonged to the club, either merchandise or respect. After another woman left him dissatisfied…he returned to her. His face battered. His knuckles bleeding. His adrenaline on high. His dick still sticky from a woman whose name he never bothered to learn.

With his mind almost gone, he appeared at her door and every time, she welcomed him in.

Every time she sang his name in praise or a curse, they grew in power over him. Every time his demons wanted to be fed something more, something darker - the look on her surprised face sent more blood straight to his throbbing dick, urging him on. Every time she screamed into her gag, and pleaded for mercy, her begging contradicting her body that twitched and shivered in so many orgasms he couldn’t count them, he told himself it would be the last time. Yet he returned to batter her most sacred place until he lost himself, lost time, lost control.

And when the last of his seed was poured out inside of her, on her face, on her breasts, on her back, in her ass, he returned to himself. Blinking to refocus his eyes and finding her ruined - her muscles turned to soup, her body trembling, wrecked with fingertip-sized bruises, deep purple hickeys and savage bite marks. Her mascara running, her lipstick smeared and drug to the left and right of her mouth. Her arms decorated with rope burns, torn skin at her wrists, her ankles, his clear hand prints on her burning red ass and her neck…sometimes her face.

When all of that was before him and regret didn’t quite reach him, he tilted up her chin to make one last offering to her swollen lips. Without fear, she waited for it to come, eyes open to welcome his kiss - his demons well fed.

-fin-

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reaperandscythe · 1 year

Photo

tumblr is not instagram. likes on tumblr, while appreciated, are effectively useless in helping a creator reach a wider audience.

when you like something, it goes into your own personal folder. and chances are good that, even if it’s public, no one will see it.

likes do not get shared to the dashboard, where others can actually see and have the opportunity to engage.

liking a creation only really benefits you, and not the creator or the rest of the tumblr community!

likes are great for bookmarking, saving posts with the intent of a later reblog, engaging with certain posts that don’t need to be shared (ie. personal posts), posts that you are not comfortable sharing, and prepping a queue.

REBLOGGING is the best way to support a content creator!

reblogs boost attention and engagement. it actually allows for that content to be shared with others. which, really, is what tumblr is all about!

tldr; reblogs > likes. please don’t take content creators for granted. this site would be nothing without them!

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reaperandscythe · 1 year

Text

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reaperandscythe · 1 year

Text

Chibs Telford x reader

Warnings: SMUT! Minors DNI, unprotected sex

Idk man I’ve been watching Sons and this man just has me feeling some type of way, enjoy

“Can I have a minute?” You ask Chibs, taking him away from one of the crow eaters that straddled his lap. He motions her off, the blonde rolling her eyes and making sure you saw the smug smirk plastered on her face. As badly as you wanted to rip it off, you decided to save your energy for a bigger and better task. He stands up, the smell of cigarettes and cologne hitting you.

“What lass, I’m in the middle of something.” You let out a chuckle, feeling anger pulse through your body. You lead him down the hall to his dorm, locking the door behind you. You grab him, pulling him close and slamming your lips onto his.

“You’re so worried about those crow eaters,” pausing as you push him slightly onto the bed, “when I’m right in-front of you.” You straddle him, placing your lips onto his neck. “Maybe i should go, I’m sure Tig or Happy would gladly have me instead of one of those crow eating bitches.” You go to stand up, he grabs your hand pulling you back into position.

“Now dear, you know that’s not a good idea. Do you think they can make you feel the way I can?” He asks, brushing his hand under your skirt, dangerously close to the wet fabric that sat between your legs.

“Oh you’re right baby, they could make me feel better.” You tease, knowing this would get him going. He flips you onto your back on the bed, pulling down your lace thong and skirt all in one motion. He immediately slides a finger in, forcing out a moan from you.

“You think so lass? Why are you in my dorm and not theirs then? Couldn’t stand another woman giving me the time of day, aye?” He slides another finger into your wet slit, pumping in slowly but harshly.

“None of them compare to you darling.” He whispers into your ear, moving his lips down your body, his mouth grazing over the thin fabric of your shirt. You pause, taking a moment to rip it off and throw it with the rest of your clothes. He’s still pumping his fingers into you, making sure you feel every thrust of them.

“Chibs,” you moan out, grabbing a handful of his hair, pulling him to your face. “I need you.”

“Aw lass, now you need me? Maybe I should send ye back out to the party. Soaking wet, let Tig or Happy handle the mess I’ve made.”

“No baby, I want you.” You let out, he removes his fingers, licking them slowly. He pulls his pants down, placing a hand around his thick cock and lines it up with your entrance.

“Trying to be dominant back fired. You know better.” He says softly, pushing into your throbbing cunt as slow as humanly possible. “You know I’m the boss here.”

“I know baby.” You try to silence your moans and avoid eye contact with him. He pulls you back and makes sure you are face to face with him, eyes looking right into his.

“Darlin’, I want you to look at me when I fuck you. I want all those boys to know how I’m fucking you.” With this, you let out a moan that was sure to be heard through the club house. He pumps into you harshly, running a hand up around your throat, making sure to not hurt you but to let you know who’s in charge.

“Chibs, oh my God.” You let out, he smirks, picking up his pace, slamming in and out of you.

“That’s right doll, let them all hear you. Make sure those damned crow eaters know who I’m fucking like this.” You run your hands up his back, leaving marks up and down. “Now, I want you to cum for me darling.” The words he says, the thoughts of those women and his brothers hearing him fuck you senseless sends you over the edge. Seeing you reach your climax sends him to his. Once he’s done, he pulls out, letting his seed seep out of you. Throwing you a towel he had sitting beside his bed.

“Clean up and come back out there to me. If it wasn’t made obvious, I want everyone to know what just happened.” He says with a wink, leaving the room.

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