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drakoneve · 7 months

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Long Run

request: Just something cute and sweet for tig with a gn reader, please? Anything, bro I'm starved.

pairing: Tig Trager x gn!reader

word count: 600+

warnings: mention of a cartel? typical club shit

a/n: I LOVVVEEEEE this man <333

Three years into your relationship with Tig, you should be more than used to long club runs. And, for the most part, you handled the separation well.

You could keep yourself busy with work, chores, and upkeep at the clubhouse with Gemma and Tara while the boys were gone but this work would only last so long.

Tiggy kept in contact as much as he could on the road with calling in between stops and in the evenings while on your drive home. There was the old "what happens on the road stays on the road" club rule, but since the beginning of your relationship Tig made a promise to be loyal to you and he'd yet to break it.

You'd known his reputation with men and women of loving and leaving them before ever getting involved with him, and so you'd made him promise.

This run is different, however.

The club made a special trip to Santo Padre on a favor to Marcus Alvares to help the local Mayans in town handle some cartel business, and before anyone knew it their one week in Santo Padre had turned into three.

It's why tonight you sat alone in the home you shared with Tig, cuddled up in blankets on his side of the bed watching old Criminal Minds reruns.

Being on his side of the bed, resting your head on the pillow seeming infused with Tig's favorite cologne (the one you'd been getting him since your first anniversary together), brought you the comfort of Tig while he was gone.

After several episodes and half a bag of popcorn later you'd finally begun to dose off when you heard it... the soft rumblings of an approaching motorcycle.

Out of habit you reached for the spare gun in the drawer of Tig's nightstand. Before him you had never shot a gun, but after the incident with Tara and Margaret being kidnapped incited Tig to teach you to defend yourself, which meant being able to use a gun if necessary.

You crept your way into the living room to peek out from behind the window curtains to see exactly who it was pulling up in your driveway.

Even though his helmet covered most of his hair, you could see Tig's small curls poking out the bottom, unruly as ever. He shuts his bike off and begins to remove his helmet and you decide you just can't take it anymore.

You abandon the gun in your hand on one of the couch end tables before heading out the door, barefoot and wearing one of Tig's shirts.

Tig raises his head when he hears the door, confused at first, but his gorgeous smile overtakes him as he realizes it's you coming for him.

You go as fast as your legs will carry you, throwing yourself against Tig's broad chest and wrapping your arms around his torso. His arms follow suit, wrapping around you and pulling you up off the ground for a moment before setting you back down, yet his arms don't release you.

"What are you doin' awake at this hour, baby?" he asks, voice muffled in your hair as he breathes you in. "You've got work tomorrow. Well, today, actually."

"Missed you," you confessed into his chest. Finally you bring yourself to pull away slightly, taking in Tig's face.

The bags under his eyes were slightly more defined than when you last saw him, but his blues sparkled down at you with excitement.

"You've been gone far too long, Tiggy," you scold playfully. "I don't think I'm letting you leave me ever again. I don't like it."

His blue eyes flicker over your face as his hands cup either side. "I don't wanna be away from you either, baby. You're everything."

Tig pulls you into a soft kiss. He never moves his hands from your face as he pulls away just slightly, resting his forehead against your own.

"Let's go inside, doll." Tig peppers kisses across your face. "I'm in desperate need of some lovin' from my baby, okay?"

"Mmm," you hum, unable to stop the smile spreading across your face. "I can't exactly say 'no' to that, can I?"

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bullet-prooflove · 3 months

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Valentine's Day Bingo: Commitment - Alexander 'Tig' Trager x Reader

Tagging: @mortal--soul @thatonesexycancerian @chaoticqueenie98 @buddinglinguist @fleureeee @spookyboogyuniverse @thanossexual @anime-weeb-4-life @redpoodlern @nu1freakshow @lexondeck @adaydreamaway08 @goblinenby @fanfic-n-tabulous @just-a-girl-who-wrytes @ankhmutes @keyweegirlie @lora21 @trublu2u @thebaileybugle @joyfulfxckery @jp1019 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @multiflixshelves @luvvstvrkeyy @goosterroose @parkersbunny76 @hatersaremymotivators @@fictional-fantasy @courtney-elizabeth93 @fanfic-n-tabulous

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

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

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

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

Bonnie - Tig brings home a new addition to the family.

Special Delivery - Tig and you get a special surpise on Christmas Eve.

Hitting the Expensive Jewellery Bingo Square

You’re playing with the baby when Tig gets in that night. Both you and Matty are lying on his playmat, his tiny fist clasped around your finger as he kicks his legs and burbles to you. Tig can’t help but smile at the sight, he never expected to fall in love, have a family but here you are with his son, in the home the two of you share.

When he puts Matty down in his crib that night, he spends a long time standing over his son, watching the raise and fall of his chest. Sometimes he can’t believe that this is real, that he can be this lucky. He knows he doesn’t deserve it, he’s done some terrible shit in his life but when he looks at you and Matty, he counts his blessings because he’s never been as happy as he is with the two of you.

You’re folding laundry in the bedroom when he finds you. You smile as he wraps his arms around your body, drawing you back against his chest. He buries his face into the curve of your neck, his lips trailing lightly over your skin.

“You know I’d be a shitty husband right?” He murmurs into your ear as you reach up behind you, your fingers threading through his unruly dark curls.

“I’d be a shitty wife.” You remind him.

It’s a familiar conversation. The women in his life before, they wanted to settle, get married. Crow eaters aspire to become old ladies and getting pregnant is the ideal way to trap a man. It doesn’t matter with who.

You’ve always been an anomaly in his life, unpredictable and unrelenting. You don’t want a ring on your finger, you don’t agree with what it symbolises, you belong to yourself and yourself only.

For Tig the idea of marriage feels like a stranglehold, he’s been there done that and he hated every single second of it. The love he has for you it goes far beyond anything he’s ever felt for anyone else but a wedding ring isn’t where it leads.

He withdraws the necklace from the pocket of his jeans, his fingers fiddling with the clasp before he drapes it around your neck. Your fingertips skate over the three little circlets entwined together, gold for him, silver for Matty and rose gold for you. He’d had it made especially by a jeweller up in Stockton because whilst neither of you wants a ring, he wants to show his commitment to you, his dedication.

“I love you Suzy.” He whispers as you settle back into his arms, his cheek coming to rest upon the top of your head. “I hope you know just how much.”

Love Tig? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Can’t get enough of Tig? Check out his Masterlist here!

Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#tig trager #tig trager x reader #tig trager x you #alexander tig trager #tig soa #tiggy

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razrbladekiss · 8 months

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Thirty-seven minutes | Tig Trager

A/N: this is just a shitty little angsty one shot, which i put together in like fifteen minutes. it's supposed to be helping me get back into the swing of things with writing, but it isn't! but anyway, here 'ya go!

WORD COUNT: 900 smth

PAIRING: tig trager x fem!reader

WARNINGS: angst, strong language. you're in your cunt era

Thirty-seven minutes ago, malevolence was rippling through your veins, surging through each and every artery like hot, molten lava drifting toward that village at the volcano’s edge.

You were mere seconds from an outburst, almost spattering your last morsel of equanimity when Clay’s pompous snarl reached the drums of your ears and all you saw was red.

Ripping the man limb from fucking limb would’ve been so gratifying, you thought. Causing him that same abundance of grief that he had inflicted upon you, making him hurt, was the one thing you could only wish to happen.

But slivering so deeply into Clay Morrow seemed borderline inconceivable. Because he was formidable, and tough, and you were yet to see him crumble under the wayward burdens bestowed upon him by his club.

Frankly, getting to him was simply impossible. And, if you could strike a chord within that phlegmatic prick, Tig wouldn’t even let you try.

It wasn’t worth it, he guaranteed that seeking revenge for the shit the SAMCRO President did to you—to the man that you love—wasn’t worth thinking about.

Because he might’ve made Tig dive head first into yet another ire-fueled, gun-wielding battle that could’ve ended a hell of a lot more bloody than what it did, but that was a part of this life.

You understood that. You understood what Tig’s life—his line of work—entailed, but it was tough. Coming to terms with it all—every last thing—was painful, and sometimes you wished that Clay didn’t depend on him so much.

But he did. And there was nothing that you could’ve done to change that, or put a stop to it. So you got along with it.

You got along with it until you couldn’t.

Ten minutes ago your face was reddening, rage dripping from every pore as you became privy to the events of the day. Eagerly—desperately—you awaited an explanation.

An explanation that never came.

An explanation that you needed, but one that you never got. And, for that, you were irrationally angry.

“I just hate that he’s got you wrapped around his little finger, Tig! It’s gonna get you seriously hurt one day!” You expressed your repugnance, stamping into the clubhouse.

Tig was hot on your heels.

“I’m sick of finding out through Jax, or Juice, that Clay has put you into yet another situation that you might not find your way out of—“

“Baby—“

“No! Don’t baby me, Alexander.” Pissed, you threw back at him as you stopped dead at the front door. “You’re not getting out of this by sweet-talking, or fucking me, like you always do.”

Being an authoritative figure suited you, he thought. Being put in his place by you was so sexy, he thought.

But you had also yelled at him—“humiliated” him—right in front of his club, and he was irked at your boldness.

The boldness that he lauded, of course, but the boldness that no old lady should’ve conveyed before the Sons Of Anarchy.

Because old ladies were supposed to be submissive. They were supposed to take orders, know their place, and abide by the rules set in place by the club.

That wasn’t your thing, however.

“I—I can’t take this anymore.” Frustrated, you retorted. “This fucking club—“

“Hey!” Tig yelled, pointing at you.

This unbending—frightening—look washed over his face, and for the first time ever, you felt yourself tremble underneath his gaze.

“Don’t talk shit about this fucking club!”

Your heart was pounding.

“I’m serious!” He barked, cornering you.

Tig was intimidating, everybody and their fucking dog knew that. Everybody knew what he did, or what he had the capability of doing.

But you weren’t scared of him.

Not anymore.

You puffed out your chest a little, refusing to be backed up against the wall. You walked a little closer to him. Two noses almost brushed against one another.

“And so am I.” You said, biting back tears. “I am so fucking serious about this—“

“About what?!” Tig was yelling again now.

He was so short tempered. But never with you.

Sucking in a deep breath, you began by saying “about how this club—more like fucking cult—is ruining our relationship that we have been trying so hard to rebuild!”

It was like a weight lifted, but it maimed him.

Because you hadn’t known Tig before the Sons, nor would you ever know that version of him. But he thought that you enjoyed him being part of such a tight brotherhood, a ready made family that supported the pair of you, not just him.

And there were benefits to Samcrow, there always were. But Tara had told you what it was like getting involved with them, and you chose to ignore the warning.

Until now.

“It’s like everything you do revolves around the club.” You say, as if it’s not the most obvious thing in the world. You take a step toward Tig, making him take a step backwards.

Fists clenched.

“We had something good, Tig. We really had a beautiful thing. But the Sons Of Anarchy have brainwashed you into thinking that, if you’re not here twenty four hours a fucking day, that some shit will happen and the club will crumble.”

He rolled his jaw.

“I promise you, nothing bad will happen if you take a day to spend time with your old lady—y’know, the woman you married.”

“You spend too much time with Tara—“

“And that’s such a bad thing?!” You hurled his way. “I spend my days in this shithole! I have no other fucking friends aside from the club and their wives, and it sucks! And now you’re mad at me for spending time with the only female in this gang that I can tolerate?!”

“Not a gang!”

“Oh, fuck off!” You stomp toward the front door, leaving a bitter taste in the mouth of your husband.

Tig couldn’t wrangle his composure. He couldn’t bring himself to go after you as your heels clicked along the uneven concrete, and you mithered to yourself about how worthless he was.

He didn’t care.

He couldn’t find a reason to care.

You disrespected his club, so he threw away the vows that he made to you.

Only temporarily, of course.

Because in thirty-seven minutes, he’ll be at your knees begging for forgiveness.

#tig trager #tig trager x reader #tig trager x you #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy fic #sons of anarchy fandom #tig trager fanfiction #tig trager fic #sons of anarchy imagines

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drabbles-mc · 2 years

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Convince Them

Tig Trager x F!Reader

Whumptober 2022: No.23 At The End Of Their Rope- Forced To Kneel

Warnings: 18+, language, angst, violence, implied/referenced sex work, blood/injuries

Word Count: 3.8k

A/N: Maaaan this fic really just made up its own mind as we went along. @withmyteeth I feel like this is definitely not what we discussed. But! It’s...something! It sure is something.

SOA Taglist: @espieviolet99 @mijop @chibsytelford @thanossexual @anditsmywholeheart @i-just-read-stuff @bport76 @unicornucopia-fuckers @buckybarneshairpullingkink @shadow-of-wonder @punkgoddess-98 @paintballkid711 @black-repunzel99 @lexondeck @jitterbugs927 @fanfic-n-tabulous @mijagif @garbinge @frattsparty @winchestershiresauce @bellisperennis0 @crowfootwrites @redpoodlern @beardburnsupersoldiers @mveggieburger @choochoo284 @littlekittymeow @beardsanddetectives @i-love-scott-mccall (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

No matter how many times the guys told Tig not to go rogue, not to play cowboy when there was his life and everyone else’s on the line, if the situation presented itself, he couldn’t guarantee that he would do what they asked.

That was why, when he got a call on his club burner from an unknown number and heard an unknown man’s voice on the other end of the line, he decided that he would show up wherever he was told to go. He didn’t take the time to reach out to the rest of the club. He was already on the road, so in his mind there would be no point in going to the clubhouse to let them all know just for all of them to go back out with him. He could call, sure, but then they were going to want him to just sit around and wait for them to catch up, and he didn’t want to do that either. It was a pretty short list of things that Tig didn’t think that he would be able to handle on his own.

The address that they told him to go to sounded familiar. He knew the street, even if he didn’t know the specific building number and what he was going to find there. But he was smart enough to know that none of it was a coincidence.

He parked outside the nondescript brick building. He knew what happened on this strip. But as he sat there, unbuckling the clip of his helmet, he tried to figure out why he was really being brought back here, especially when he’d been there just the day before. This wasn’t a hot spot for club business—the only times he ever came here were off-hours. The only times he ever came here, he was with you.

Hanging his helmet off the handlebar, he pulled his phone out of the pocket of his kutte. Your number was one of the few that were in his burner. The call went to voicemail, which wasn’t too out of the ordinary. You weren’t the type to constantly have your phone on you, especially not when you were working. You had never been a woman who was there at Tig’s every beck and call. It was one of the things that he loved about you, strangely enough.

He knew better than to call you over and over again. Instead, he left a short and simple voicemail. “Hey, baby, it’s me. Got a…weird call today. Just checkin’ to make sure you’re alright. Call me back.” He paused for a beat. “Love you.”

He swung his leg over the bike, putting his phone away once his feet were planted. He took a deep breath, discreetly feeling to make sure that he still had his gun and his knife. It didn’t matter that he never went anywhere without them—he still had to check.

Walking up to the door of the building he’d been told to go to, he looked around for the telltale signs of nefarious activity. The windows that weren’t boarded up were tinted dark enough so that no one walking by was going to be able to see what was going on inside. The cameras that they had on the outside of the building were discreet, but Tig knew enough to know what to look for. He looked directly into one, flashing his one-of-a-kind Trager smile. He waved, rings clinking together as he wiggled his fingers.

When he wasn’t greeted by anything, he knocked on the door. Leaning against the frame of it, he spoke up in a slightly mocking tone. “Got an order here for a large cheese—”

The door was unlocked and opened from the other side. Before Tig could even glance to see who it was, he was being roughly yanked through the sliver of an opening that they’d created. It was hardly big enough to slide him through, his shoulder banging against the doorframe before the heavy metal door was slammed shut behind him again. He was being pushed and shoved in what was apparently the appropriate direction without anyone saying much of anything to him.

“Won’t lie to you,” he said as he planted his feet to stop, “I lied about the pizza.”

“Shut the fuck up,” the man’s voice was cold, but it wasn’t enough to bother Tig.

“Guess this means you won’t be giving me a tip then?”

A split second later, the tip of a gun was being pressed hard directly into the middle of Tig’s back. The man behind him gripped him by the back of the neck, pulling him back. Whoever he was, was taller than Tig because Tig could practically feel the way that the man was speaking downwards to him.

“I’m not gonna ask again.”

“You didn’t really ask the first time, to be fair.”

The comment earned Tig a hard shove, one that nearly sent him tumbling to the ground but he managed to catch himself. He huffed, rolling out his neck as he continued down the only open hallway. He assumed that this was the direction he was supposed to be doing in, not that there were many options. Whenever he reached the appropriate door, he assumed he’d be given another cue in the form of a push.

It certainly wasn’t the type of place that Tig would want to stay. But he knew that the girls who were here probably didn’t have much in the way of options. He frowned for a moment at the thought, and it brought him back to wondering why he was told to come back here.

“Up the stairs,” the man spoke and the gun was pressed into Tig’s back once again as he reached the end of the hallway.

Sure enough, there was a poorly-lit, grungy staircase to his left. Tig’s gut was telling him to turn around and take this guy out. And if there hadn’t been the very small possibility that you were also going to end up getting roped into this, he would have. But he wasn’t going to put you in that kind of danger, no matter how badly his fingers were itching to reach for his gun.

As if the man behind him could read his thoughts, he said, “I’d just fucking go, man.”

“No elevator in this place?” Tig turned to try and glance over his shoulder but he was roughly shoved again before he could get a good look. The guy was tall, white, and had long dark hair. That matched the description of way too many people in their area of California for Tig to try and narrow it down.

“It’ll be worth the walk,” he reassured him.

That sent a jolt of fear down Tig’s spine that he didn’t want to admit to. Your voicemail recording was playing on repeat in his head as he made his way up the stairs. There weren’t even that many steps but it felt like the staircase was stretching out to be longer and longer with each step that he took.

“Second door on the right,” the man instructed.

Tig listened, albeit begrudgingly. He reached, turning the knob of the door and pushing it open. He didn’t feel himself sucking in and holding his breath as he stepped in, but he let out a long exhale as he looked around the room. It was nothing special. There was a bed, a dresser, a timer on the dresser. The brick walls weren’t decorated with the exception of a few strings of lights that weren’t currently plugged in. Although Tig had the feeling that even when they were, they didn’t really do much to set the mood. Mood wasn’t the reason that people showed up to these rooms anyway. Most of the light in the room was being thrown by the singular light in the middle of the ceiling, a little bit coming in from the hall and the open door now as well.

He turned around, finally able to fully face the man who had been pushing and shoving him the whole way here. Tig took in the full image of the man in front of him. Aside from his height, and the tattoos that were on his hands and creeping up the side of his neck, there wasn’t really much to set him aside from anyone else Tig would’ve passed on the street. And yet he was standing there with the nagging feeling that he had definitely seen this guy before.

Tig looked around the room and back at the man, speaking with a much cooler, calmer demeanor than how he really felt inside. “No offense, man, but you really aren’t my type. And,” he gestured to the room, “I at least need a motel room or something. Have a little class.”

The guy shook his head before holding out his hand. “Gun.” He motioned for Tig to hand over his weapon.

This was the moment. Tig could either shoot his way out of this, or let it play out. He knew that there was no way that it was just him and this other asshole in the building. Shooting him was going to unleash who knew how many other people onto him. So he made the logical play and handed his gun over.

“Knife, too,” the man said.

Tig sighed, but he unclipped it and handed the blade over. He watched as the man set them just outside the door. Nothing about any of this was making sense. So few times in his life had Tig ever just been along for the ride like this. And now he didn’t even have his weapons.

He was staring at the empty doorway for a few seconds that felt much longer than that when he heard the clicking of heels on the hallway floor. His face contorted in confusion—the sound alone let him know that that wasn’t you. It seemed that with every passing second there were more and more questions popping up.

Then the young woman teetered into the doorway. One arm crossed over her chest so that her hand was gripping onto the opposite bicep. Her eyes were cast down towards the floor, nervously shifting and twisting her feet in her heels.

Tig’s eyes went wide as he took in the sight of her. She wasn’t you, but he knew her. You knew her, too. The last time that the two of you saw her, though, she was looking a lot happier, and a hell of a lot less banged up. Bruises littered her cheeks, arms, and legs. The skin of her knees was torn up and scabbed over, and he could see that it was the same case with her elbows. There was bruising along her neck that weren’t from a fun time that got out of hand.

The sight of her, even with all of the bruising, let him know why he recognized the man standing behind her. He had some generic fucking name. He was pretty sure it started with a J. Jerry? Jimmy? Something like that. On more than one occasion after Tig had dropped her back off at their usual spot down the block, he’d materialized to collect his cut of the payment. Tig would watch the exchange in the mirror of his bike. She never looked happy about it, and why would she? But the guy had never gotten rough with her, not where everyone could see, anyway.

Despite knowing better, Tig’s whole demeanor softened as he looked at her. He wanted to reach out and pull her into a hug. “Oh, what’d they do to you, doll?”

“They?” the man barked as he pushed her farther inside the room. It was gentler than when he was man handling Tig, but not by much. “She came back to us like this after she saw you!”

Tig’s eyes went wide as he shook his head. “I didn’t do this.” He looked genuinely appalled at the accusation. “I’m, we’re not into that.”

“So these just magically appeared on her?” he held the woman’s arm up, showcasing the bruising that continued on the underside of it.

Tig winced at the sight. “You’re looking for someone else, man.”

“I don’t fucking believe you.”

Tig shrugged, holding his hands out in a small act of defeat. “Nothing else I can say. This wasn’t me.”

He could see it in the girl’s face that she must have tried to tell this guy all of this already. Tig honestly wouldn’t be surprised if a couple of those bruises were from the man who seemed to be so upset about her having any in the first place.

Knowing better, she still spoke up anyway, her voice sounding as small as she tried to make herself. “Jay, it’s—"

“Stop,” he cut her off, and she shrunk even more. He turned his attention back to Tig. “You put one of my best girls out of commission for who knows how long. Until all this shit fades out,” he gestured to the cuts and bruises, and Tig saw the way that she winced at the callous address of it all.

“I told you, I didn’t—”

“Shut up,” he pulled a gun from his own waistband and aimed it at Tig’s head. “You cost me. And now it’s going to cost you. You and your club.”

Tig let out a laugh, because quite frankly the man’s gall was amusing to a point. Clearly he’d been looking for any way to try and sink his claws into the club and he was going to try and use this as his opportunity to do it. “You think my club is gonna pay up any money because some scumbag put one of your whores out of commission?”

“You’re going to convince them.”

He barked out another laugh. “Not gonna happen, Jay.”

“It better. Or your girl is gonna have a real rough go of it.”

Tig’s face contorted in confusion. He nodded towards the woman who was still standing nervously just past the doorway. “She’s cute, she’s a good time, but she’s not my girl. You putting her out of commission for even longer is just gonna be a bigger problem for you, brother.”

It was Jay’s turn to laugh. “Oh, believe me, it’s not gonna be my problem.” He let go of the girl’s arm only to nudge her towards the door. “Go on. You don’t gotta see this.”

Apprehension was etched into her features, but she did as she was told. She spared an apologetic look back at Tig before shuffling out the door. The sad look in her eyes did nothing to quell Tig’s worry and confusion.

It got quiet again. The two men stood staring at each other, waiting for the other to do something. Tig found himself reaching for weapons that he no longer had, inwardly cursing himself for handing them over. He was halfway through strategizing how to get out, how to get his things back, when he heard more footsteps coming his way. These ones were heavier, definitely not the dainty heels of the poor girl that they’d just sent on her way. There were also multiple sets of footsteps this time. Tig found himself taking a small step back, trying to put a little more distance between himself and the door just in case.

Then the door opened wider. Another man materialized. He was a little shorter than Jay, but built much wider. He’d just have to stand in the fucking doorway to keep Tig from being able to get out through it.

He wasn’t Tig’s concern, though, not when he saw the state that you were in as the man dragged you into the door. Your feet were barely coming up off the ground, the toes of your boots scuffing the floor with every labored step.

Whatever had been done to the poor girl who worked for Jay, you’d gotten that treatment and then some. Something told Tig that you were in the state that you were in because you hadn’t said or done the things that those men wanted you to. That was perfectly on-par for you—you knew how to keep your mouth shut. It was usually how you stayed out of trouble. It had never left you so bloody before.

He tried and failed to keep a straight face as he refocused on the men behind you. “I don’t know what you think this is gonna do. Doesn’t change the fact that my club isn’t gonna do shit for you.”

You did your best to take a deep breath despite your stuffy nose and the gag in your mouth. The fabric that was strung through your mouth felt like it was regrettably becoming a part of you at this point. Your wrists tingled and burned from the restraints around them. Your whole body ached. If it hadn’t been for the man dragging you along, you would’ve crumbled to the ground a long time ago.

Despite your exhaustion, when Jay landed the first hit, cracking his fist against Tig’s jaw, you still let out a whimper. The man holding onto you tightened his grip on your arm to silently tell you to get it under control. You tried, but you still felt yourself cringing as each requisite blow landed.

You watched the exchanges between them, both verbal and physical. You knew that the clock was ticking and that before you knew it, the attention was going to be back on you. If just the sight of you bruised and bloody wasn’t enough to get Tig to break, they were going to try and wear him down a little more before doing more damage to you. It was going to be a long and painful back and forth.

Tig spit some of the blood from his mouth onto the floor. He looked at Jay, setting his shoulders back before saying, “You’re going to have to do better than that. Your girls have smacked me around better.”

“Better, huh?”

Jay’s breathing was labored, but he could work a gun just fine winded. He roughly grabbed your arm that the other man wasn’t holding onto, pulling you in front of him and using his free hand to grab his gun. He pressed the tip of it against the side of your head. You whimpered, tears leaking out onto your cheeks.

“This better?” he asked Tig.

Tig was doing his best to keep a straight face. You knew him well enough to see the panic in his eyes. “It’s not gonna sway the club.”

“It’ll sway you, though,” Jay argued, “and you can sway the club.”

“Not gonna happen.” He said it with a certainty that stung you a little bit. You knew it was coming, but you just wanted to be out of here and safe. The likelihood of that was getting less and less with each passing second.

Jay shrugged nonchalantly. “Last chance.”

He saw the way that Tig’s expression didn’t falter. Letting out a deep sigh before stepping back from you. You heard the click that you knew all too well and another whine, some sort of a plea came out muffled. It didn’t matter, though. Seconds later, there was a loud bang and you felt the tearing through your side. You screamed in pain against the gag in your mouth, body dropping to the floor as you succumbed to the pain and exhaustion. You fell to your knees, doubling over further so that your forearms were braced against the floor, still bound at your wrists.

It almost got Tig to buckle. He almost dropped down to hold, you, to try and stop the bleeding. But he couldn’t crack now. What little bit of self-restraint he still had was spent keeping his eyes trained on the man pointing the gun at you.

“Not gonna shoot your way through this one, man,” Tig said with a shake of his head, although the confidence wasn’t there like it had been before.

Jay heard it, too, his lips curling into a cruel smirk. “You sure about that, Trager? I’d hate for your girl to bleed out on the floor here all because you didn’t want to talk to your club.”

“It’s not—”

Tig’s argument was cut short by the sound of another gunshot. You buckled beneath the impact, lying completely flat against the floor. You cried against the cloth in your mouth, tears cascading down your cheeks and eventually hitting the filthy floor beneath you. Blood was starting to pool around you, and the sight of that is what finally broke Tig. His body acted of its own accord as he dropped to his knees, immediately reaching for you, wanting to pull you close to try and help.

“Ah-ah,” Jay spoke up, pointing the gun right at your head even though his eyes were locked on Tig’s. “Give me a better answer, Trager. I can wait all day. Doesn’t look like she can, though.”

Tig looked down at you, unable to stomach the pleading look in your eyes as tears stained your bruised cheeks. If you had the strength, if your wrists hadn’t been bound, you would’ve reached for him to beg. You never asked him to choose between you and the club, because you knew where you were going to rank. But now that you were staring death in the face, you couldn’t help but to try and beg despite the fact that you couldn’t talk.

But then you saw it, the slight frown that tugged at his lips. Your heart sank in your chest. Your eyes fell shut, more tears slipping out as you tried to get right with the fact that this was it. Sobs wracked your body through the pain.

Even though it hadn’t been your intention, your painful acceptance of what was about to happen, kicked Tig into gear and got him to change his mind. He cleared his throat, holding his hands up in an act of surrender.

“Alright,” he sounded choked up, and that was new for everyone present, “alright. Just, just let me get her out of here.”

There was a sickly satisfied smile on Jay’s face as he lowered his gun. “See? Wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Tig didn’t respond as he moved to loop your still-bound arms around his neck. He scooped you up, trying to move you as little as possible as he swiped up his things. They played their game well, knowing now that he wasn’t going to risk you dying in order to take them out. For the moment, Tig’s worry was you, but his mind was already turning with ideas and plans for revenge. This would all get brought to the table, but paying these assholes off was the last thing that was going to be discussed.

#sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy imagine #soa #soa imagine #tig trager #tig trager x reader #tig trager x you #my writing #fanfiction #tig trager fanfiction #drabblesmc

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thisreadswhatever · 6 months

Text

The Chase: Part One

Pretty Sweet

series masterlist

[description]: jax teller x female reader

[wordcount]: 2.7k+

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

“So, how’s your mom?”

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

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

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

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

“Sounds great, Dad.”

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s really sweet, Bobby. Thanks.”

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

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

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

“That’s Jax. Club’s VP.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I usually just go by y/n.”

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

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

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

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

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

Jax hesitated. “A work in progress.”

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

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

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

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

“I can take you back.”

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

“So?” He shrugged.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

back to masterlist

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witchthewriter · 11 months

Photo

𝐏𝐎𝐕: You’re Jax Teller’s Old Lady - this is what your photo album looks like.

(the first photo is framed and hung in your house)

#witch the writer's moodboards #jax teller #old lady #old lady soa #sons of anarchy #opie winstone #jax teller x you #chibs telford #tig trager #juice ortiz #happy lowman #moodboard #soa #sons of anarchy moodboard #soa moodboard #pov #pov moodboard

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marvelous-slut · 5 months

Text

MASTERLIST - you can find all my works here on this page. I hope you enjoyed reading them just as much as I enjoyed writing them. I don’t own any of the characters in these works.

* IM TRYING TO GET MY LINKS IN ORDER SO BARE WITH ME PLS *

SONS OF ANARCHY

Chibs Telford

Happy Lowman

Tig Trager

Juice Ortiz

Nothing here yet - coming soon

Opie Winston

STRANGER THINGS

Dmitri Antonov

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purplerain85 · 1 year

Text

Broken Promises

Pairing: Happy x Reader

Summary: Happy Gets taken by the Chinese….. and never comes home alive. You in your pain and heart break take it out in the SOA just like you promised if he didn’t come come home.

Warnings: heart break, angst, fire set to a building/garage, swearing, fighting, arguing

A/N as Cricket @withmyteeth asked me “Why am I this way!” Honestly I don’t know

Tags 🏷️ @withmyteeth @yourwonkywriter @raewritesfiction @darklydeliciousdesires @darqchilddaydreamz @redpoodlern @redwood-orginals @reyeswritesmc @chibsytelford @twistnet @twistnet-reblogs @nestorsgirlfriend @nessamc @blowmymbackout @drabbles-mc @rebelwrites @jvalentinesworld-cokes-hyna @challengeahellcat @indefiniteimagines

You knew what you were getting into when you said yes to being Happy’s Old Lady. But this! This is not what you were expecting, Happy is the one who kills not the one who gets killed. You were shattered beyond repair, you knew you would never ever be whole again. Under the heart break was anger so much anger.

Jax Promised you he would bring him home alive, he told you he would when you told him he needed to be brought home safely or you promised you would burn their stupid little club to the fucking ground. You terrified Tig (Tig doesn’t get scared often) he told Jax “we need to make sure we bring him home Jax. She is just as scary/crazy as Happy! As much as her crazy turns me on, I can guarantee you she will burn this place to the ground!”

“We will figure out a way to bring him home, the Chinese are not going to hurt him beyond some bruising and cuts. Plus she may be crazy as him but she has a habit of not following through, there is a reason she never does anything without Happy’s say.” Jax says. Oh how wrong he was!!!

When the Chinese drove up and tossed Happy’s body out of the van. Everyone was panicked Jax looked like he was going to drop right there. Chibs walked over and grab Jax by his shirt and said “You had better find some way to break this to Y/N! You promised her he would come home to her alive and you better hope we can keep her calm or we are going to be fucked, you may think she won’t do anything without Happy’s say. But Jax DEAD MEN DON’T TALK! She will be a ticking time bomb and unstable time bomb!”

Jax said he would but he couldn’t admit to everyone that he was scared to tell Y/N that Happy wasn’t coming home. So he made a personal club decision without asking the club. He called Y/N and when she didn’t answer he left her a voicemail “Hey Y/N we got Happy back but not how we wanted…. Umm I am sorry”

Nero stopped by Happy and Y/N house to see if you needed anything and the door was partially opened, so he walked in and panicked for a quick moment. The house was a complete disaster furniture was over turned and ripped apart, lights were broken, the tv was shattered, it looked like someone broke in the house until he found you in the bedroom on the closet floor you were a complete mess. “What happened to the house Y/N?” Nero asked as he came closer to you.

Your voice was hoarse “he couldn’t even be a man and tell me to my face! He pulled a cowardly move and left a voicemail and FUCKING VOICEMAIL NERO!” “I cannot even begin to even know where to start.” Nero gives you the saddest look you have ever seen and know there will be more. “Nero I just wanna be alone. I am not going to do anything stupid”

Nero huffs but does get up and leaves and makes a call to Jax’s and asks where everyone is and he tells him everyone is at his house “ok I am just leaving Y/N house I will be at your place shortly”

You heard that everyone was at Jax’s house, you got up and went to the back yard to grab all the gas cans and couple packs of dynamite that Happy had left. You were going to show Jax that leaving you a voicemail and underestimate you. You packed up the car and headed to the clubhouse. You see all the crime scene tape you figured no one was there but still did a quick sweep.

Then you drenched the clubhouse and set up pieces of the dynamite, you said you were going to burn this place to the ground and you were going to make sure there was nothing left.

Nero walks into Jax’s house and yells out for Jax “JAX!!!! What the fuck were you thinking!!! You left her a fucking voicemail! Telling her husband died you couldn’t be fucking club leader and tell her to her face!” Everyone is in complete shock and looking at Jax. Tig has a look of angry and shock and Chibs looks like he is about to murder Jax. “Be lucky that she says she won’t do anything stupid” Nero continues.

“She won’t do anything Nero like I said before she doesn’t do anything without Happy’s say….” Jax had started saying

But Chibs cut him off “You don’t understand Jax’s There is a reason she never did anything without his say! He Kept Her Sane! He Kept Her Grounded! Without him she is unstable and there is no saying…….” Then there was a massive explosion that was felt all over Charming. Everyone ran out of the house and could see the biggest fire and the blackest smoke they had ever seen.

They all knew it was the clubhouse.

When they got to the clubhouse there were cops and firefighters and right in front was Y/N watching it burn. Some of the cops told the club that there was nothing they could do right now Y/N did so much damage that there is nothing they could do.

Jax walked over yelling at Y/N and shoved her “What the Fuck Did You Do!” “Y/N the fuck were you thinking! I did the best I could!” You slowly turned to Jax and sneering at him and for a rare moment in his life he was scared.

“The best you could! The best you Could! You Promised me that he would come home Alive! YOU DID WHAT WAS BEST FOR YOU! Not for the Club, Not for Charming, Not For me and especially NOT FOR HAPPY! You did what was best for YOU! You self centred Jack ass!” You and start hitting, slapping, punching Jax who took it for the most part tell your fist connected to his jaw and then he back handed you, “You stupid psycho bitch I said I would bring him home and even though he didn’t come back alive at least he came home!”

Then you completely blacked Out and kneed him in the crotch and started going for his face then Chibs and Tig came over to separate you two Chibs ended up pinning you to the ground “just breath lass, I know you are hurting.” You fight and fuss against Chibs “Get him the fuck out of her before she kills him.” Chibs yells

“You wanna know the difference between you and I is?! You will never know the pain I feel, but it will be close and as Happy and I call it, it’s an eye for an eye! You better hope there is something left of her in there. You made the biggest mistake of not looking into my past you just took Happy’s word, unlike your brothers they know what I am capable of.” you sneer at Jax

Jax looks at you and then at his brothers then to you with your sickly smirk on your face and then at the clubhouse before he mumbles “Tara” and drops to his knees

#happy lowman x angst #happy lowman x you #happy Lowman #sons of anarchy #jax teller #chibs telford #tig trager #david labrava x reader #Angst

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ravennaortiz · 8 months

Text

Ravennas's Randoms Juice #1

"About time you woke up sleeping beauty" Y/N stated from your seat next to his hospital bed your left arm in a sling

"Fuck you, your the one who needs it" muttered Juice as he tried to stretch before groaning in pain. His shoulder and ribs burned and his head felt groggy from the anesthesia

"Hmm, not what you told my dad when you woke up a bit after surgery" you replied as you rolled your eyes before standing up. "Next time you decide to take a bullet for me Ortiz make sure it doesnt travel through you and into me." you half joked as you handed him a necklace with half a bullet on it.

Before Juice could reply his room door slammed open and Tig Trager strolled in followed by a laughing Chibs and Happy. " You brother have a lot to explain" stated Tig as he pointed at juice. "Well that is my cue to flee the scene" you laughed before leaving the room quickly ignoring Juices pleas for you to come back.

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drakoneve · 7 months

Note

How do you think tig would be with a cat person since he's the resident dog lover?

ooo okay okay!!

so the first time Tiggy comes over to your place you'd already pre-warned him that your two fluffy felines, Margie and Skit, would be curious about him. He didn't think anything of it at first because cats are cats.

In all his years Tig had never connected with a single cat the way he had his precious dogs. Cats were too independent for Tig, who needed the emotional connection of a more dependant loyal little friend. But he knew, from the way you spoke of them, the way your face light up as you turned the key and pushed your front door open to be greeted by Margie and Skit, that these cats were something special.

That evening as you made dinner in the kitchen, Tig was determined to befriend your kitties. He first started with the treats you handed him, which warmed Margie and Skit up to the biker.

As you chopped vegetables to fry, you stole glances into the living room. Tig had shed his precious kutte and his boots to sit on the floor. He had one of your feather on a stick toys in one hand playing with Skit, the other hand petting Margie who laid next to his thigh.

Tig looked up just then to catch your eyes. His face broke out into that big goofy smile you loved. "I think they like me, baby," he says triumphantly."

You smile at him, heart swelling with the love you had for this man. "I had faith in you, Tigger."

"Really, I should have known," he shrugs. "Pussies usually like me."

You can't help but laugh and shake your head before turning back to dinner. "Oh my god. How did I not see that coming?"

#tig x reader #tig trager fluff #tig trager imagine #tig trager x reader #tig trager fanfiction #tig trager x you #tig trager x y/n #request #anon request #soa x y/n #soa x you #soa x reader #sons of anarchy x reader #sons of anarchy imagine #sons of anarchy fanfiction

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bullet-prooflove · 4 months

Text

Special Delivery: Alexander 'Tig' Trager x Reader

Part of @storiesofsvu Holiday Bingo! The square was Winter Cabin!

Tagging: @crazy4chickennuggets @kmc1989 @withakindheartx @mortal--soul @thatonesexycancerian @chaoticqueenie98 @buddinglinguist @spookyboogyuniverse @thanossexual @anime-weeb-4-life @redpoodlern @nu1freakshow @lexondeck @adaydreamaway08 @goblinenby @fanfic-n-tabulous @just-a-girl-who-wrytes @ankhmutes @keyweegirlie @trublu2u @thebaileybugle @joyfulfxckery @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @multiflixshelves @luvvstvrkeyy @goosterroose @storiesofsvu

Part of the Crazy, Fucked Up Love Arc:

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

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

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

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

Tig decides he wants his first Christmas with the baby to be special, even if his son still resides inside of you. It’s the reason he plans a babymoon a fortnight before your due date. He has everything planned to perfection. He heads up to the cabin a few days before Christmas Eve with Juice and Kozik, together they set up the tree and decorate the cabin. Jax chops firewood outside, leaving the stack alongside the hearth.

The only problem is Tig can’t cook, he has a couple of recipes under his belt but beyond that he’s out of his depth. He asks Gemma for help and as usual she comes through for him.

“You gonna propose or something?” She asks him as she plans out the shopping list.

“Suzie’s been a trooper while I’ve been running between Stockton and Reno trying to smooth over all this shit with the guns.” He tells Gemma as he sits down at her kitchen table with a cup of coffee. “I haven’t been around as much as I would have liked.”

“You’re trying to make it up to her before the baby comes.” Gemma says knowingly, tapping her pen upon the surface of the notepad.

“I want to remind her how special she is.” Tig explains to Gemma, his thumb tapping against the mug. “How much her and the baby mean to me. It’s not been easy, being apart, especially when she’s so far along.”

“Hence Christmas up in the cabin.” Gemma summarises as she sits back in her chair. “It’s rustic, it’s quiet, the perfect place to have a little mommy and daddy time before baby Matthew arrives. I’ll cook something up for the two of you and get Chibs to bring it up later with the gifts from him and Evelyn.”

“Thank you, you’re a godsend.” Tig says, kissing her on the cheek as he raises to his feet.

When you step into the cabin, he can see how much you love it. You’ve always wanted to have Christmas in a cabin, you remember telling him that on your second date. You’d been talking about favourite holidays; he wasn’t big on them, but you were. You loved everything about the Christmas season, the lights, the magic, even the Santa suit…

Especially the Santa suit as he had learned last year. He’d noticed the way you’d got a little hot and bothered while editing a Santa porno and decided to test his theory. It had been the most debauched night of his life, the things the two of you had gotten up to…

He can’t look at old St Nick without a blush creeping across his cheeks and he certainly could not return that suit.

You spend the evening in front of the fire, resting on Tig’s chest as you doze on the couch. You listen to the sound of his heart beating in his chest, your fingers playing over the fine chest hair. You’re half asleep when Chibs lets himself in. Tig tilts his head towards the other man who holds up a gift bag of presents in one hand and bag of carefully prepared food in the other.

“Just dropping off.” He says softly, a smile tugging at his features.

You struggle into a sitting position on the couch, your palm smoothing over the roundness of your belly before you say.

“Actually Chibs, I think my water just broke.”

It moves quickly from there.

There’s been a crash on the country road leading up to the cabin, there’s no way an ambulance can get through until the cars have been cleared from the road. It’s a fast labour, before you know it Chibs is between your legs telling you to push. Tig sits behind you, your back pressing against his chest as he murmurs soothing words into your ear.

The language that comes out of your mouth...

A sailor would be proud.

Chibs delivers the baby on the rug in front of the fire.

“Welcome to the world bonnie wee lad.” Chibs grins as he holds up the baby. He has a flock of Tig’s dark hair and the most beautiful blue eyes you’ve ever seen. Chibs wraps the infant up in a fleece blanket from the back of the couch before handing him over to you.

Tig’s cheek comes to rest against yours as you cradle your son close to your chest, his lips ghosting across your skin.

“You did good Suzie Q.” Tig whispers as he looks down at Matthew Filip Trager. “You did so good.”

Love Tig? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Can’t get enough of Tig? Check out his Masterlist here!

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#alexander trager #alexander tig trager #tig trager #alexander trager x reader #alexander trager x you #tig trager x you #tig trager x reader #storiesofsvuholidaybingo2023

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heronpoxed · 1 year

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Major Sons of Anarchy Spoilers

This post is for Tara Knowles stans and Tara Knowles stans only!

(maybe a little bit for her antis too)

Y’all know that I love Jax Teller right? but I love Tara Knowles more and sometimes I hate Jax so much, it is absolutely palpable because he is a pathological cheating manwhore<3

This is probably going to be some type of um expansion of the similar post I wrote years ago (I wrote a whole goddamn essay. My 17-year-old self went all out and if you’re interested, here’s the link: https://www.tumblr.com/heronpoxed/625890875891990529/sons-of-anarchy-spoilers ) but this time I am older, wiser and more pissed off.

I was scrolling through reddit, reading some convos on why Jax cheated on Tara this much and what his motivations were. Most of them were stating similar things which can be narrowed down to this: “This was the life and the MC culture. When you’re a part of an MC there are expectations that you need to meet aka expectations to cheat on your partners. He was raised this way. He was a womanizer and had gotten a horrible example of love from Gemma and Clay. He was seeking distractions, etc”

Well, let me tell you: What a load of fucking bullshit.

First of all, we have Otto fucking Delaney who did so much unimaginable shit just because he was in love with Luann. Looking at Otto, would you really think that he would be capable of cheating on her? And the fact that he was a loyal husband would make him seem less deserving of his title as an MC member?

I hate that everyone excuses Jax’s cheating. Like, at all! I hate that Sutter thought that he had to make Jax a cheater in order to portray a realistic MC member. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t know shit about MC other than what I’ve seen on the show, but let me tell you this: Jax was always portrayed as someone who was smarter than the rest of the club, more intelligent and above all this fake and basic instinct bullshit that most of the members lived by for so long and this is exactly why Jax being a cheater does not make sense because it just made him inconsistent. The toxic MC culture is to be unfaithful to your partners but the whole essence of Jax’s character is that he tried as much as he could to go against said culture and push the MC in a healthier direction.

With Jax always taking the moral high ground while being a VP and mostly taking a moral high ground while being a prez, you wouldn’t expect him to do shit like this to Tara, a woman he so obviously loves with his whole being. Like thats the thing, you can’t even say that he doesn’t love her because the lengths that he was willing to go for her were immeasurable. He got confused there for a sec but in the end he literally gave up his freedom so she could have hers and if we look through the darker lens, we all witnessed what he did to the poor Chinese boy and his own mother.

The only time I get Jax’s motivation to sleep with someone who isn’t his wife, is when he found out about the divorce and the pregnancy. That thing would really fvck someone up and even if I hated that instead of talking it out with Tara or just like shouting at her, he decided to bury himself in a blonde milf, I understand why he did it. He was feeling hurt and upset and betrayed (tho If he hadn’t become a person who couldn’t be reasoned with, this could’ve been avoided).

However, him sleeping with Colette in 6x01??? There is no excuse!

This is the shit that I hate the most, man. The second his relationship with Tara got strained, he ran straight to Colette instead of facing his issues and let me tell you, this makes Jax a coward.

What’s worse is that he wanted to do it again and if he hadn’t seen Colette with Baroski, he most definitely would’ve slept with her that day. That entire scene is absolutely disgusting. Not because it’s relatively graphic, but because of the look on Jax’s face, like Colette was his and he felt violated that someone else was sleeping with his property. I literally gagged and threw up and cried. Thats how sick that scene was.

What’s even worse than THAT, is that if Colette hadn’t died in the Diosa massacre, that manwhore would’ve slept with her again and wouldn’t even feel weird about it(1) even after being caught with her by his wife, (2) even after knowing deep down that, on moral level, Tara would’ve been upset about and would not have wanted this.

As much as I dislike Colette and don’t greet her tendency to get attracted to the guys that are clearly taken (don’t forget she had an eye for Nero first), to say the least, it annoys the hell out of me that everyone blames her. Hello? Jax isn’t exactly blameless here?!?! He easily could’ve said NO. What would Colette have done?! forced herself on him?! give me a break. People are so quick to blame women for the shit that men build the foundation for.

I feel exactly the same way about the Ima situation. Ima WAS dumb but it wasn’t as if both Opie and Jax hadn’t made a conscious decision to sleep with her. Jax rearranging Ima’s face, calling her a wh*re and telling her to stay away from his family was unwarranted to say the least considering that he brought her in the clubhouse, into his life and inadvertently, everyone else’s.

Gods know how much I love Jax Teller but dude, DUDE! like I could never excuse such shitty behavior of his and whoever does is an utter misogynist and a victim of toxic masculinity. Jax wouldn’t have been any less intimidating or any less biker-y without being a pathological cheater. He could’ve broken Tara’s heart a million different ways, could’ve dealt with his cowardly issues with a million different distractions and coping mechanisms. Why did it have to be constant infidelity?

Honestly, that’s so embarrassing of you, Jax.

What breaks my heart the most is the fact that Tara went back to him every single time even though she clearly stated that cheating was a deal-breaker for her. That’s how much she loved him but at the end of the day, that’s a woman written by a m*n; fulfilling this sick male fantasy that the woman has to be loyal to the man no matter what.

Damn, I needed to say all that. I’m rewatching like for the 5th time I think and I am so so angry. Now that I’m older I see things more clearly which makes me even more angry.

I don’t know what the take-away is from this y’all but I can say one thing: Tara Knowles-Teller, my sweet, beautiful angel, deserved the best version of her husband. Not that second-hand cheap copy of him.

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holylulusworld · 6 months

Text

Rescue you - Flufftober 23

Summary: When your ex comes to town, Jax sees red.

Pairing: Jax Teller x fem!Reader

Characters: Clay Morrow, Wayne Unser, Harry "Opie" Winston, Juice Ortiz, Tig Trager

Warnings: angst, mentions of a past abusive relationship, protective Jax, angry Jax, light violence against the reader, implied character’s death, fluff, hurt & comfort, blood

A/N: I didn't name her ex. You can imagine any guy. I imagined Brock Rumlow because he's hot and a bad guy. 😳 I'm a visual writer and need to imagine a face.

Trope: Rescue romance

Idea by: @dawn-petrichor-world

Kinktober vs Flufftober 2023

The day you met Jax Teller changed your opinion about men.

Until then, you believed every man is like your ex. Angry, loud, and thoughtless.

Jax is different. He’s rough around the edges, strong, wild, and yes, dangerous. But with you, he’s gentle and kind. You never felt safer than in his arms.

In those fleeting moments, you can spend alone, he dreams of another life. A life without violence, and maybe, children running around the house.

Your boyfriend is not a man of many words. He shows you his feelings with soft touches and small gestures.

The tea he brews for you every morning before you must go to work. A soft kiss goodnight. Or the way he hugs you. All these small gestures tell you Jax Teller loves you.

You believe in him, and his love. Jax will never hurt you or leave you for some other girl. He promised to love and protect you for the rest of his life.

Today, you must believe in his love, and hang on. If only you can hang on and wait for Jax to find out what happened to you…

Four hours earlier, …

“Bye, have a great weekend,” you wave at your colleagues from the library. They return the gesture and wish you a great weekend too.

You yawn as you make your way toward your car. Only a few more minutes apart you from meeting up with your boyfriend.

“Look what I finally found.”

You freeze. That voice.

How you wished to never hear his voice again. You lived in a bubble for the better of two years. Your relationship with Jax is going steady, and your past is only a few burned pictures, and torn memories you refuse to talk about.

“No. You can’t be here,” you shake your head as you look at your ex. He smirks darkly at your reaction. Your hands tremble and your eyes sting with tears. “What a pity he didn’t pick you up today, huh? Every Friday night your fine boyfriend has something better today than bringing his girl home.”

“What do you want here? You can’t be here.” You take a step back, and another as your heart hammers in your chest. “Please just leave me alone.”

“I’m here to get my girl back,” he looks over your shoulder, checking if anyone is watching you. “I can’t just let you go, can I?”

“You had fling after fling,” you sneer when he tries to touch your cheek. Slapping his hand away you glare at him. “What do you really want?”

“I can’t have my girl run around with that bastard. Jax Teller, Y/N? Really?” He scoffs when you look around the area for help. “No one is coming for your aid, babe. We can do this the easy way, or the hard way.”

“Fuck you!” Your head snaps to the left when his hand slaps your cheek hard. You gasp, and press your hand to your cheek, fighting the tears wanting to break free. If you cry now, he’ll know how scared you are.

He grabs your arm, tugging harshly. “You will come with me and shut your mouth. After I’m done with the chapter of the sons in this shitshow of a town, you can thank me by being very nice to me…”

Now, the clubhouse, …

“Where is she? What can you tell me?” Jax nervously runs his fingers through his hair. “Juice, you need to do your thing…trace her phone or shit.”

“Jax, you need to calm the fuck down,” Clay tries to calm Jax. One of them got kidnapped, an old lady. He’s furious and ready to rip anyone apart. “We will find your old lady.”

“She left the library four hours ago, Clay! Four fucking hours!” Jax kicks a chair out of his way. “If anyone touched one hair on her head, I’ll kill them…I’ll kill them all.”

“We talked to her colleagues and the owner of the shop across the street. Her colleagues didn’t see shit. Y/N left the library wished them a nice weekend and walked toward her car,” Tig grunts.

“Yeah, they didn’t even want to talk to us because you scared the shit out of them,” Opie bites back. “Anyways,” he clears his throat as he looks at Jax. Opie can see the fear in his friend’s eyes, and it breaks his heart a little. “The old geezer across the street said, that there was a guy and a girl. The guy hit the girl, and that was when he called the cops.”

“We checked the cameras from the stores nearby,” Unser tries to get Jax’s attention. “One of them captured the car of the bastard. We got a license plate and a name.”

“We’ve got a name?” Jax grabs Unser by his collar. “What are we waiting for then? You had a name for how long?”

“Twenty minutes, Jax,” the sheriff grunts. “I’m not an idiot, and I like the girl.”

“Who is he? Who dared to raise his hand against my girl?” Jax is out of it. He’s ready to rip the sheriff apart, limp by limp if he doesn’t get answers soon. “Tell me his name, UNSER!”

Unser yells your ex’s name, making Jax gasp. You told him about what happened with the man you dated before him. “We need to find them!”

“Jax, calm down! We are on it! Juice is on it,” Clay tries to calm your boyfriend down again.

“I try to hack her service provider to find out about her last location. Give me more time,” Juice tries his best to remain calm. He’s used to working under pressure. But these are exceptional circumstances. “Just one more minute…“

You try not to think about what will happen if Jax doesn’t find you. Your ex was taunting you over the last hours, telling you how much he will enjoy watching Jax despair when he finds your broken body.

Taking deep breaths, you try to remember all the times Jax told you how much he loves you, or how he asked you to go for a ride with him for the first time.

The silence is deafening, and worse than your ex yelling at you. It takes a toll on you, as it feels like seconds turn into hours.

You hide your face in the palms of your hands, silently crying as you fear that you’ll never see Jax again.

“Where is she?” someone yells loud enough for you to hear. “I’ll kill you!” Gunshots hit the wall, and you scream as one of the bullets breaks through the door and hits the wall next to you.

“Y/N! BABY! Where are you!” It’s Jax. Jax found you!

“HERE!” You scream his name. “I’M HERE!”

“BABY!”

The door flings open, revealing a beyond-worried Jax. His face is covered in bruises, and blood covers to his knuckles, but all you can think about is that he's here.

He tugs his gun away as you run toward him to throw yourself into his arms. “I knew you’ll find me…I just knew…” He breathes you in. "I knew it..."

“Did he hurt you? Did he touch you, baby?”

“No…I mean he hit me but…no…I…you’re here,” you cry into his chest. “You’re…here…”

"I told you," he kisses the crown of your hair, "I'll burn the world for you and kill anyone hurting my girl..."

Tags in reblog.

#jax teller #jax teller x reader #jax teller x you #jax teller x y/n #jax x reader #female reader #Rescue you - Flufftober 23 #kinktober vs flufftober 2023 #tw: kidnapping

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mysticalmallard · 6 months

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Diner Girl PT 1

🦆: First Post in awhile took a break as I was busy with work but I'm back now with lots of things in my drafts to keep me busy

Pairing: Tig Trager x FemOC (can be read as xreader)

Summary: Tig meets a cute waitress

MainMasterlist || Series Masterlist

Tig sees a diner on the way back from a run for the club and notices a cute little waitress in the window and thought this seems like a great place to stop for some grub. Approaching the counter, Tig flashes the waitress a warm smile. He then orders a coffee and takes a seat, keeping his eyes on the girl as she tends to the few other patrons in the small diner.

As he finishes his coffee, Tig decides to make a move. Rising from his seat, he walks over to the counter where the waitress is wiping down glasses and taking orders from a man in a suit. Tig, leaning on the counter in a laidback manner catches the waitress looking at him out of the corner of her eye and smiles. She returns the smile and continues working. Tig decides to see if he can strike up a conversation.

Looking down at the waitress, Tig speaks in a gentle and friendly tone.

"Hey there, you seem like a sweet girl, what's your name?"

The waitress takes a moment to glance at Tig, seemingly surprised by the question. However, her warmth and sweetness never leave her expression as she answers.

"Oh, I'm Grace.. Nice to meet you...."

"I'm Alex"

Tig smiles warmly, liking the girl's name and her friendly attitude.

"EXCUSE ME DO THEY PAY YOU TO IGNORE CUSTOMERS IN THIS DUMP OR DO YOU JUST HATE YOUR JOB?"

The man in the suit loudly exclaims to the room with a sour expression on his face

Startled by the man's sudden outburst, Tig looks up at him and gives him a stern glare. The waitress quickly turns to face the man in the suit, looking annoyed with his behavior. Tig turns his attention back to the waitress.

"Relax, buddy. This is a small, family-run diner. If you're looking for customer service, try the Olive Garden or something. Now, why don't you go back to your table and let Grace do her job in peace hmm?"

Tig says confidently, shooting a sharp glance at the rude customer.

The man seems surprised by Tig's bold response and grumbles to himself before going back to his table. Grace quickly looks up at Tig, clearly appreciating the sweet way he defended her. She smiles at Tig and nods her thanks. Tig smiles back, then continues to talk with the young waitress.

Tig likes talking with Grace, enjoying how genuine and kind-hearted she is. She's a nice girl, he thinks, and way nicer than any girl he's ever been with before. He can feel a strange connection with her, something that he's never felt before. He's drawn to her in a way that he can't quite explain.

The two chat for a while longer and Tig's charm seems to be working as Grace becomes more and more comfortable with him. As she leans on the counter, Tig puts his hand on her elbow to get her attention. He leans in close and says quietly,

"Can I ask you something?"

Grace looks up at him, and the look in her eyes makes his heart flutter. He thinks she is the most beautiful woman he's ever seen. He nods slowly as he waits for her reply, and Grace smiles sweetly as she whispers,

"Sure, what is it?"

Tig's heart starts pounding as the tension mounts, and he takes a beat before finally asking the question that's been haunting him.

"Would you wanna go out sometime?"

As the words leave his mouth, his stomach clenches with nerves, and his brain feels like it's short-circuiting from the rush of adrenalin. He can't believe he just asked her that, but he felt like he had no choice. As the diner gets quiet and Grace thinks about his question, Tig can hardly breathe.

#sons of anarchy x reader #sons of anarchy #tig trager x oc #tig trager #Trager #soa x reader #sons of anarchy oneshot #sons of anarchy x oc #OC #tig trager imagine #Alexander Trager x OC #x OC #tig trager x reader #x reader #Mallard Diner Girl

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thisreadswhatever · 1 year

Text

To Keep Me Safe From You: Part One

find my masterlist here

[description]: jax teller x fem!reader

[wordcount]: 3.1k+

[summary]: after overhearing a conversation that could be detrimental to the future of samcro, the club has voted that you have to die. fortunately for you, jax has to complete the kill.

[cw]: 18+, female reader(y/n), swearing, mentions of murder throughout, knives, smut, cliff hanger, possible grammar/spelling errors, generally following the show but slightly AU

[authors note]: so this one shot turned into something more and will be getting a part two as i'm not done with this scenario. i realised during this just how hard it is for me to write in a way where i don’t want jax to come tape me up and murder me... so sometimes the reader (y/n) makes some really questionable decisions, simply because i would let this man get away with anything. i hope you enjoy it :)

“We really talking about offing a chick right now?” Juice stared at his fellow members with wide eyes.

“She heard everything, Juice.” Even though he was whispering, Tig’s panic was loud and clear. “You wanna be the one to risk prison time over some waitress in a diner?”

Jax slammed his hand on the table, “We. Don’t. Kill. Women.”

Bobby looked around at the eyes now peering towards their table before shaking his head at Jax in disapproval, “We also don’t talk about club business outside of Chapel, for this exact reason.”

Tig doubled down now he knew Bobby agreed. “She heard too much. I saw it in her eyes, Jax. I can handle the hit. I’ll follow her out back, it’ll look like she was mugged. No witnesses. No trace.”

“Do you hear yourself right now brother? We don’t even know if she heard-” Juice stopped abruptly as he saw you walking over to their table, bill in hand. You smiled at the blonde haired man sitting at the end of the bench, avoiding the 5 other guys glaring at you. “Is there anything else I can help you guys with today?” He grinned back at you, taking the bill from your hand, “I think we’re all done here.” He placed three twenty dollar bills inside the wallet, a very generous tip, before handing it back to you. “Thanks for stopping by, boys. Get home safe.”

“You too, darlin.’”

Jax watched you walk away, making sure you were out of range before addressing the other members. “See? She heard nothing. That ain’t no witness that’s going to talk to feds. She’s not even spooked.”

Tig scoffed and Bobby lowered his eyes at Jax, “Maybe we should take a vote, Pres.?”

Jax was really pissed now, even contemplating killing a woman made his blood boil. But Bobby was his VP, and he was right, this wasn’t a decision he could make himself. Jax let out a large exhale, glancing at you as you cleaned the last remaining tables. He leaned into the table, “Fine, we vote. All in favor of murdering the poor innocent diner chick. I’ll start. Nay.”

He was the only one who voted so. Juice had almost sided with him, but everything Tig had said persuaded him to change his vote. Tig had panicked the rest of the members into actually killing a woman. Jax was outnumbered, and there was nothing more he could do. While you were finishing your night shift, the Sons of Anarchy had just sentenced you to die.

Jax had managed to get Tig to back off, reluctantly agreeing to let him carry out the hit instead. He figured at least he could kill you quickly, saving you from Tig’s twisted methods. The other members had left, leaving him the only 4 seater vehicle they had brought out that evening. Although you didn’t know it, Jax was waiting for you across the parking lot, leaning against the hood of Piney’s car, cigarette in hand. You shut the door to the diner behind you, fumbling with your purse to find your car keys. You were too preoccupied with the broken zipper on your bag to realise the same blonde haired man from earlier was still there, and approaching you.

“Lost somethin’ darlin’?”

“Shit-”, his voice startled you, causing you to drop your purse and everything in it across the lot.

“Fuck, sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.” He helped as you collected the strung out items across the tarmac. “You didn’t mean to scare a girl leaving work on her own in the pitch black at this time of night?” You snapped at him as you searched for your belongings along some hedges. Jax handed you a tube of lipstick and your reading glasses, that had somehow survived the fall.

“I guess I didn’t think that one through. Sorry about that.” He stood up, extending a hand to help you. You barely acknowledged as he spoke, ignoring his hand, as you were desperately scanning the floor.

“Well you’re gonna be really sorry. You have to drive me home. My keys aren’t here..”

“Fuck- you cant find them?” He dropped to his knees again, searching the ground with you. You could barely see in the carpark, you had no chance of finding them until daylight.

“No, they’re gone. What the fuck am I gonna do now?”

Jax stood up, pacing the length of the car park still searching for your keys. “They gotta be here somewhere.”

“This is useless. Can you just take me home?”

Jax smiled, “least I can do darlin’.” He extended a hand to help you up from the ground again, but this time, you took it.

He started walking towards his car, holding a pack of cigarettes out at you. You didn’t smoke, but you also didn’t usually get into cars with strangers, either. You weren’t sure what had come over you, and you felt wary about the whole thing, but you didn’t have many options left with no car keys, and he seemed nice enough. You followed him to the car, taking a cigarette from the pack and holding it up to your mouth as he lit it for you. “I don’t even know your name and I’m about to get in a car with you.” He chuckled. “Names Jax Teller. And I can assure you, I’m a normal guy, just ignore the kutte.”

“Okay then.. Jax. You gonna tell me why a normal guy such as yourself is waiting for a girl outside her place of work at almost midnight?”

He held the car door open for you with a reassuring smile, “I’ll explain on the way home.”

You looked at him through narrowed eyes, “you better get me home in one piece.” You got in the car, flicking the half smoked cigarette on the floor as Jax shut the door behind you.

The inside of the SUV was a mess, the dash covered in raunchy magazines and parking fines. It was hard to think about anything other than the stench of dry oil and stale cigarettes. Jax began to drive, and you directed him on the way to your house, although you got the feeling he didn’t need your help anyway.

“I can get one of the guys to come change the locks on your car tomorrow morning. Get you a new set of keys.”

“That’d be great. You guys locksmith’s or something?”

Jax grinned, one hand on the steering wheel, glancing between you and the road as he drove. “Something like that. We run an auto repair shop out in Charming.”

“Oh. So is this your thing?”

Jax looks at you puzzled, “my thing?”

“Getting girls keys lost so you have to give them a ride home?” Jax shook his head, amused by your assumption. “You’re actually the first.”

Watching him while he drove gave you the chance to study him in fine detail. You’d noticed his good looks earlier at the diner, but now you could see Jax looked like he belonged in a hollywood movie. He held the steering wheel with one hand, the other on the gear stick, his fingers draped in silver rings. His beard was coated in a layer of stubble, with long shaggy blonde hair that tucked behind his ears. He was undeniably attractive. If anyone was going to lose your car keys, forcing you to drive with them for a ride home, you were glad it was him.

He turned on your drive slowly before parking, reaching into the glove box adjacent to you. He searched the compartment, and a load of CD’s fell to your feet. “Shit sorry. There’s no pens in here. You got anything in that bag you can use to write your number down? You know, for the keys.”

“I could grab a pen from inside.”

Jax nodded in response, “I’ll walk you to your door.”

Before you had the chance to say anything, Jax was out of the car and making his way to the passenger side door to open it for you. It was all a little surreal, you’d only met him a few hours before, yet he had shown you more courtesy than any man you’d previously encountered.

You walked with him to the front porch, then searching under the mat for the spare house key. You thought to yourself how you’d have to find a new hiding spot for it tomorrow. You unlocked the front door. As you walked in, switching the lights on as you entered the kitchen, you knew Jax was standing at the door, patiently waiting. You hesitated for a second, debating on the idea of having this random stranger enter your house. On one hand, you knew it was the dumbest idea you’d ever had. On the other, he was charming, respectful and like nobody else you’d ever met before. And you knew that after tonight, you’d probably never see him again. “You can come in if you want, I’ll just be a sec’.”

Jax stepped through the doorway, looking around as he followed you to the kitchen, “nice place you got here.” You searched the ‘drawer of everything’ in the kitchen to find an old receipt and pen. “It was my best friend’s house before she went back to Washington. She’s letting me stay here while I save for my own place. I get cheap rent, she gets a free house sitter.” Jax was standing behind you, making you overtly aware of how close he was. “Y/N.” He was reading from the receipt over your shoulder as you wrote down the number to your home phone. “I never did catch your name at the diner. It’s pretty.” You handed him the crumpled up paper, and he placed it in his pocket.

“And you never answered my question.” You turned to face him as you spoke, to find the beautiful blonde stranger holding a large blade against your stomach. “Living room. Now.”

You froze in fear, unable to move. You realised you’d made a huge mistake. You had known the risk of letting him in. You knew better. And now it was too late. You pushed through the lump in your throat to get words out, “Just take what you want and leave. It’s all yours.” “I don’t want your shit, y/n. Walk. Now.” You did as he said, walking slowly towards the living room, feeling the cold blade now pressed against your back. “What do you want?” He pulled your arm back with his free hand, stopping you in the living room. He gestured toward the armchair that sat between the TV and couch. “Sit down.”

“What are you doing, Jax?” You didn’t want to sit, you wanted to run. You wanted to buy yourself some time.

“I said sit down!” Jax’s voice cracked as he yelled at you. Hearing him yell sent a shiver down your spine, and you snapped into the chair in front of him immediately. You could see his face now. His eyes were vacant, completely shifted from the warm, courteous man you’d thought he was when he entered your home. It seemed he’d grown 10 feet taller now, towering over you while you sat frozen and vulnerable in the chair beneath him. He brought himself down to your level, with the knife now at your side, the blade touching your arm.

“You wanted an answer to your question?”

You nodded.

“I waited for you because I have to kill you.”

“To kill me?” Nothing was making any sense. “To kill me..” You repeated, looking straight into his eyes, “but you don’t even know me.” Jax placed the knife into the sheath, and back onto his belt pocket before pulling a roll of duct tape from his kutte. You recognised the tape from the drawer you had searched earlier, but that couldn’t be possible, you told yourself. You never saw him take it.

“You heard some stuff tonight that could ruin lives. And there’s a group of outlaws that want you dead now because of it.”

His words rang in your ears like sirens, putting all your senses into override. You couldn’t catch your breath before Jax was binding your hands together in front of you so tightly you could see the skin pulling under the tape. “And you want me dead too?”

Jax paused to look at you, matching your eyes, before looking down, continuing to tape your hands. “Doesn’t matter what I want.”

Nothing made sense. You hadn’t heard anything they talked about. He had totally got the wrong idea, and if you could just explain it, he could understand.

“Jax, please listen to me. I didn’t hear anything. I don’t even know what you’re talking about!”

He closed his eyes as you pleaded with him, “Stop. Talking.”

You pulled your wrists up, trying to touch him with your fingertips, as if that could reach the kind part of him you thought you had seen. Your bound hands pulled at his shirt as you begged.

“I didn’t hear a thing! If I heard some fucked up shit why would I get in a car with you? Why the fuck would I let you in my house!” You felt faint, your ears beginning to ring as adrenalin circulated your veins. He tried to ignore you, and started to tape your legs. You wanted to think straight, to talk sense into him, but your eyes began to fill with water, tears unwillingly streaming down your cheek. “I didn’t hear anything,” you sobbed, “I’m not lying to you.”

Jax dropped the roll of tape on the floor. His hands covered his face as he rubbed his eyes, the words “jesus christ”, muttered through his teeth. Suddenly he stood up, pacing to the kitchen. You couldn’t see him, but you could hear the flicking of a lighter. You sat there, bound by tape, in silence, afraid if you said anymore he would come back to finish you off.

Some time had passed. Jax had paced the kitchen before venturing into your bedroom. You’d spent the last few hours weighing your options. You could try to run, but you wouldn’t get anywhere with your hands and legs bound together. If you could get to the phone in the kitchen you could call the cops, but he’d see you before you could even dial the numbers. You weren’t sure how long you sat there, trying to think of anything that may save you. Your planning was halted when you heard footsteps coming from the bedroom. Jax lowered himself down to you, pulling the knife from the sheath. He pointed it towards you, and you braced yourself, knowing any plan you could make was too late. You closed your eyes, awaiting your fate, when you heard the sound of tape ripping and your hands were released from the bind. You didn’t move a muscle. Jax’s eyes smoldered. “I’m not going to kill you.”

You pulled the tape from your wrists, stinging as you peeled back the residue from your skin. “You’re not?” “I can’t kill a woman. And even if I could, I can’t kill you.” He cut the tape binding your feet. You gulped, still sat in the chair as if the tape had never been cut in the first place. You could run now, you should run now, but you didn’t want to.

“What about the outlaws?” your voice was almost a whisper.

“I’ll handle them.” You watched as he began to walk towards the front door. “I’m really sorry for all of this, y/n. I just couldn’t do it.” His face was full of shame, his voice clouded in regret.

You didn’t have time to contemplate before you yelled, “wait!”

Jax stopped in the kitchen, “What?”

“You can’t just go.” You leaned into your knees to stand from the chair, legs stiff from being in the same position all night. As you stood you stretched your legs creating instant relief as you walked towards him. Your mind yearned for the same relief your body had, but now you were just really fucking angry. “You bring me here, tell me I’m going to die, tape me up and then decide you’re not going to murder me anymore. Now you want to just leave? And pretend this never happened?”

“I can’t stay.” He sounded guilty, and his lack of eye contact was further proof of this.

“Why the hell not?” You were standing arms length apart, looking up at the man who was tasked with your murder, yet now you were pleading with him to stay. “What are you even talking about, Jax?” You tried to step closer to him, but he inched back.

“If I’m not killing you, I need to stop whoever is going to instead.”

You didn’t respond, as you were still trying to understand why you needed to be saved at all.

Jax softened, “I know you’re confused but this is the only way I can keep you safe.”

“To keep me safe from you.”

He took a deep breath, taking your face in his hands. His blue eyes had melted, any anxiety he had been wrestling with tonight had passed.

After everything that had happened, somehow, here, in this man’s presence, you felt safe. You now knew he wouldn’t hurt you. He held you there in his hands, searching your face, looking for a different way out. Something in that moment shifted, the air around you moved as if it were wrapping you in string, tying you to Jax, bringing you closer together. He leaned into you, kissing you on the head, seemingly like the beginning of a goodbye. But he didn’t speak, and no goodbyes came. Instead he placed his forehead along yours, breathing you in along with whatever thoughts plagued his mind. You didn’t understand how or why this was happening, and you got the idea that Jax didn’t know either. Before you could make sense of it, he took you into his hands and kissed you. He pulled your face tight to his, securing you to him by the grip his fingers had through your hair. The tension between you was palpable, every movement of his tongue against yours was fierce and urgent.

His hands released and lowered to your waist, pushing you into the open island in your kitchen as you stumbled backwards on your feet. The cold countertop was pressing against the back of your jeans, contrasted to the warmth of his mouth on yours, his hands now tugging at your waist band.

He lifted his hand back to your face, feeling your lips beneath his thumb before sliding it down your neck. The corners of his mouth stretched into a smile as he kissed you.

“I knew there was a reason I couldn’t kill you.”

His tongue lapped against yours, gentle and kind with every touch yet urgent with his hands on you. Groans fell from your throat in response.

You had feared this man all night, and now you were drunk from his lips, and utterly desperate for more.

———

part two

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