#soa fics

[theesirenteller]

Reaper's Crow.

🅦🅐🅡🅝🅘🅝🅖 Kidnapping, Gore, Abuse, Violence, Profanity, OCC, glorification of serial killings, mentions of sexual violence, smut, mentions of PTSD, Sociopathisim, graphic violence, torture, blood, gore, deaths, dark undertones, angst, slow-burn romance

▌This fictional piece is AU with very little amounts of canon. I understand if this fic isn't your cup of tea. Please do not leave hate comments. The story is set some years after season seven. ▌

"This is just in another series of bodies that have been reported to have been found butchered and dismembered. Two of the six bodies were confirmed to be Sergeant Robert Combs and Officer Micheal Llyod. Both were suspected to be in business with the Aryan Warriors. Police have put out a curfew for all Mottenhill residents to be inside their homes by seven p.m. We ask all residents to lock their doors and remain safe."

An ear-piercing scream echoed throughout the four-bedroom-two-story home. Drowning out the downstairs news report from the Tv. The sound of glass shattering followed by choked-up sobs and high-pitched squeals of agony bounced off the walls of the home. The commotion let death himself slip in through the backdoor like a dark shadow in the night. The rubber soles of his steel-toned leather boots pressed soundlessly across the wooden floor. The glimmer of his silver c-shaped daggers reflected across the floorboards as the six-foot-seven male crept up the staircase. 

"You stupid fucking bitch! I love you! Why do you have to make me so angry?!"

The reaper tightened his grip on the daggers within his hands as he edged closer to the master bedroom door. His target, the unfortunate son of a bitch stood with his back turned away from the door. Hovering over a blood-covered, badly beaten woman. Who looked more like a girl based on her size. She spat blood across the floor, and a few of her teeth followed. Tapping against the wood as they spilled. The man raised his foot up, no doubt getting ready to aim a kick towards the back of her head. Just as his foot started to lower…

The dagger shot right through his skull with a loud crunch. The leather whip attached to the handle of the blade tugged back. The man's neck yanked backwards as his large body fell onto the floor. The layers of rolls on his stomach jiggled due to the harsh thud. The blade roughly snapped open the bridge of his nose and dug upwards splitting the middle bridge of his eyes open wide. Blood splattering across the man's wrinkled face as his body jolted back and forth out of shock.The Reaper lowly whistled to himself as he walked further into the bedroom. His once bright eyes turned midnight blue as he looked down at his victim coldly. His breathing shallow as rolled the wire around his leather glover covered hand but ultimately yanking the blade from the man's head. Warm blood splattered across his shoes and pants. Something that felt as simple as rain falling on a gloomy day. Crouching down like a panther getting ready to indulge in its prey, he soon hovered over the dwindling body. First came snapping a photo on his mobile then he plunged the dagger violently into the man's jugular and rapidly yanked it across his throat. Viciously causing the mangled bones to disconnect from the spine and shoulders. With little regard to the blood painting his face crimson, The Reaper proceeded to take a plastic black bag from his pocket and toss the head inside. As he stood back up the sound of wheezing caught his attention. 

The woman weakly slithered herself as far away from him as she could. "P-ppp-ple" she attempted to beg as blood steeped from the sides of her mouth. Her sepia-brown skin is stained with crimson so much that he wasn't sure how many places she was bleeding from. She was tired of begging. Tired of pleading. And if this was her end, she wanted to plead for her life rather than plead for the pain to stop. It never did stop when she pleaded anyway. The reaper's left eye began to twitch as flashes of blood, stab wounds, and his cries of agony replayed in his mind. Tara. He dared not utter her name. His eyes closed for a moment. Wincing. WIncing away the painful memory. When he opened them again he looked around before making his way over to the bed. After snatching off the duvet cover he then B-lined towards her again. Now crouching down beside her he proceeded to turn her on her back. Which caused a sudden yelp of pain to escape her lips. Shoe parks embedded across her breasts and her collarbone stuck out of place. One of her eyes was closed shut and swollen with the size of a lemon. A large gash in the middle of her forehead.She had eyes the same color as the grease that used to coat his calloused hands. Eyes that held pain. A pain he was familiar with. A pain he wished to undone.

"Sorry" his voice was gruff. Husky with grief.

Snapping her collarbone back into place only caused a mouse-like squeak to leave her lips. She had no more fight left in her. Her eyes rolled back before they shut. Her breathing was shallow as he leaned in closer to her face. Not wasting a moment longer he draped the duvet across her body and cocooned her into it. Carefully picking her up, The Reaper cradled her in his arms. Swiftly turning on his heel, he retrieved the bagged head from the floor on his way out the room.

Disappearing like an Incubus in the night, The Reaper drove his GMC truck out of Las Vegas. He drove for miles until reaching his destination. Parking his truck out in front of the gated mansion, he grew comfortable in his seat and wrote on the plastic bag in red marker 'Stolbatch' before tossing it out the window. 

It wasn't long before he was back on the road. The road that once was his friend, his freedom, his sense of invincibility and thrill…until it wasn't. It'd become an escape route and pathway to the neck job. His attention turned to his mirror. He watched the battered woman lay unconsciously across his backseat. It's been a longtime since he acted on impulse. And now he debated on what he'd do with her. Where he'd leave her. 

'Christ Jackie…what'd ya gotten into now' an old friend's words played back in his head causing a grimace to flash across his lips.

Pushing those thoughts aside, the only thing now on his mind was to get the nameless woman taken care of and patched up.

Chapter Two.

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Chibs with a reader around the same age as Juice and they do it on Chibs’s bike at the club house thinking nobody is there but they get caught by a few of the members

Teach Me How to Ride.

Synopsis - Chibs is teaching you how to ride (in more ways than one).

Pairing - Filip 'Chibs' Telford x Female Reader

Warnings - smut. cursing. age gap.

Age Rating - 18+

Word Count - 1k

Author's Note - thank you SO much for this request, anon. it made me feral. that old man owns me and i'm not sorry about it. always open to SOA and chibs requests. <3

Masterlist. Inbox.

"Any weekend plans, darlin'?"

You smile at the blonde man sat on the other side of the bar you're wiping down.

"Nothing too exciting. I think I'm gonna try and get out on my bike."

His brows raise in curiosity.

"You have a bike now?"

"Yeah. Chibs is teaching me how to ride."

"I bet he is."

You roll your eyes at the snickers that come from the other guys who are dotted around the room.

"Real mature, Jax."

"Is he charging you for these lessons, or are you paying him in other ways?"

You put down your cloth and look up.

"I'll jump over this bar and beat your ass right now, Tig. Don't think I won't."

They all laugh, and you can't help but chuckle along with them. You know they mean well. They'd do anything for you, in a heartbeat.

Eventually, the sun sets, and all of the guys make their way home. You've been restocking the bar, not minding staying a little later if it means you get the job done.

You're crouched down filling the fridge when you hear a familiar Scottish accent echo though the clubhouse.

"You still here, sweetheart?"

You stand up and smile at him, grinning wider when he reciprocates.

"Still here. Trying to get my shit done."

"That's my girl. Always working ten times harder than the rest of us."

You laugh, throwing him a beer.

"You're here late. How did the run go?"

"All good, nothing to worry about," he winks.

You think back to Jax's comment earlier, and decide you've had enough of avoiding the truth. You want answers. You also just kind of want to know what he'll say.

"Why does everyone think we're fucking?"

Chibs practically chokes on his drink, taken aback by your sudden brashness.

"What?"

"You heard me."

He takes a moment to process, before a slow smile etches itself onto his face.

"Why do you ask that?"

"Just something Jax said earlier."

"Ignore that bastard. He doesn't think before he speaks."

You chuckle in agreement, finishing up your jobs for the day.

"You wan' a ride home?"

You nod gratefully, making sure to lock up before walking over to where Chibs is leaning against his bike. He's parked by the door, under the shelter, obscured from the yard. He slips a helmet onto your head, before standing in front of you to do up the buckle. His rough fingertips slide under your chin, clasping the straps in place. He swipes a thumb over your bottom lip gently, eyes never leaving your face.

"You're too good for me," he murmurs. "Pretty young thing like you."

"Everyone already thinks we're fucking anyway," you whisper, smirk on your face.

He chuckles lowly, before leaning in to capture your lips with his. He kisses you with need, unbuckling the helmet he just put on you and dropping it to the ground. He's grabbing at you - your hips, your ass, anywhere he can find. You've got your hands tangled in his hair, yanking roughly when he bites your lip.

The two of you waste no time. Chibs is shrugging his jacket off while unbuttoning your pants, pulling them down. You're fumbling with his belt, undoing his jeans with shaky hands. You're both high on adrenaline, desperate to feel the other person. He smashes his lips back to yours and you groan, reveling in the way he tastes like smoke and peppermint.

Chibs grabs your hips and walks you backwards, twirling you around so you're bent over his bike. You can't help but laugh, remembering what Jax had said.

"What?" he chuckles into your ear, hot and heavy against your back.

"Nothing," you giggle. "I'll tell you later. You gonna fuck me, old man, or just stand there?"

He growls under his breath and smacks your ass as punishment, smirking when you whine.

"You gonna ask me nicely, sweetheart?"

At this point, you're not above begging. Besides, you know it'll do wonders for his ego, and you don't entirely mind that.

"Please, Chibs," you whinge. "Waited so long for this."

"Oh, ya have?" he coos. "Better not keep you waitin' then."

In one smooth thrust he slides home, both of you groaning in unison. He plants a hand on the back of your neck, the other with a firm grip on your hip, providing him with leverage. He sets a steady, even pace, careful not to knock the bike over.

He tilts his hips upwards a little and you keen, seeing stars.

"Right there? Yeah? That's it, isn't it?"

You only nod in response, holding onto the motorcycle for dear life. You trust him, though. You know he won't let you fall.

"Fuck, darlin'. You feel so good."

"So close," you choke out.

"I know, I know. Can feel you squeezin' me. Come on, that's it. Good girl."

The lilt of his accent combined with the glide of his hips is lethal, sending you over the edge in no time. You see stars, heart racing and mind blank.

Your undoing is also Chibs'. He groans as he finds his release, leaning over to rest his head between your shoulders. You're both panting, chests heaving as you recover.

After a moment, the bike groans, and you both jump up, laughing as you do it. You're redressing, Chibs stealing kisses from you, when you hear a voice cut through the darkness.

"Well, shit. I was only kidding earlier."

You can hear Jax's teasing drawl before he comes into view, cocky smirk drawn across his face.

You groan as Chibs rolls his eyes and throws his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into him. Both of you know you're not going to hear the end of this for a long time.

[thisreadswhatever]

Only Mine: Part Two

find part one here

[description]: jax teller x fem!reader

[wordcount]: 2.2k

[cw]: 18+ only, smut, smut and more smut. unprotected p in v sex, oral m receiving, some almost getting caught tropes (kinda) and just jax having his way with you

[authors note]: so I wasn’t planning on making this a two part series but here we are! this is basically just pure smut but I owed it to you guys after that cliffhanger. thank you again to THAT anon for the fantasy that inspired this second part! it was too good not to write.

Your hands dug into the front of his leather cutte, weaving your fingers in between the cotton of his shirt. The only sound was the roaring of the bike beneath you, and the wind as it thrashed your hair into chaos against your helmet. You weren’t sure where you were going, but at this point you didn’t care. You squeezed your arms as they wrapped snug around him, tightening as he sped faster into the unknown.

Chibs followed just behind. They had been on their way to a Mayan warehouse earlier that night, before Jax decided to make a detour when he saw your car parked at the bar. When it was clear they had to go, you had begged Jax to bring you along. To your surprise, you had somehow convinced him. His dick was clouding his judgement, but you were both desperate to find an end to what you had started in the backseat of your car.

They parked the bikes in the back of a desolate warehouse, alongside a large empty truck. The building was fenced in with metal chain links and surrounded by broken security lights. From what you could see through the darkness, it was completely deserted.

Jax approached Chib as he rocked the kickstand on his bike as you waited patiently alongside his.

“Bobby and Juice on their way to the Clubhouse?”

Chib’s placed his helmet on the bike, “aye. Everything according to plan.”

“Alright, let’s get this done.”

Chibs placed his hand on Jax’s chest, “ye sure about bringing her? Could be here awhile pal.”

He knew he was right, bringing you with them wasn’t the smartest decision Jax had made tonight. He lit a cigarette between his lips as he walked back to you, “Just a straight forward drop off, Chibs. Stash the shit and get in the truck.”

Jax pulled you into him by the waist as you fumbled to undo the clasp of your helmet. His mouth pressed firmly against you, kissing you intently as his hands held your face to his. He watched you for a brief moment under him, your eyes staring up at him as he held your lip between his teeth. He broke only to smile widely down at you as he spoke, “c’mon, I got an idea.”

“We’ll be inside.” he called out, collecting a black satchel from the back of his bike. Chibs didn’t respond, only chuckling to himself as he watched Jax lead you away. “Kids.”

He pulled you through the warehouse by hand, obviously familiar with the surroundings. The building was dimly lit by a single light that shined from the entrance, just enough that you could see your feet beneath you as you walked.

You didn’t ask questions, just followed as he weaved his way through a thick maze of tall empty shelving units. He gripped your hand tighter as he pulled you into a small room cordoned off in the back of the building, housing the now derelict security unit and remnants of old office supplies.

There was a large display window that overlooked the majority of the warehouse, which would’ve been used to watch the ongoings of the building when it was up and running.

“Wait here.”

You obeyed his order, sitting on an old computer console that towered from the floor. It was just large enough that you could sit with your legs bent alongside it, straddling it beneath you.

The distant light was too far to aid in your sight as you attempted to watch him through the display window. Jax disappeared into the darkness of the warehouse. You could hear the sound of a door opening and closing from the opposite end of the building.

It felt like he was gone for eternity as you sat in silence, waiting for his return.

Suddenly an external door into the office opened, making you jump, and Jax re-entered, this time empty handed as the satchel he carried in with him was gone. He locked the door behind him. He moved toward you, now standing with his waistline parallel to your face. He was looking out into the warehouse from the side of the display window. “Just gotta wait for the pick up and then we’re out of here.”

“How long will we be? This place gives me the creeps.”

“Shouldn’t be long. Then I’m taking you home. We got unfinished buisness of our own, darlin’.”

Jax laid his hands to your cheeks, cupping your face upward to look at him. His thumb stroked your skin gently, as he peered down at you with hungry, desperate eyes.

“How ‘bout you just swallow my cock now to pass the time.”

You chuckled at his adavance, raising your eyebrows at the suggestion. “Here? What if someone comes in?”

Jax lowered himself down, forcing your head to turn on its side, as his lips pressed to your ear. He spoke slowly, unravelling you with every word. “Let them watch. I don’t give a shit. Your instructions earlier were very clear darlin’, you told me to take what’s mine. I’m going to take you, here and now. I’m going to have you where I want you, when I want you. You are mine to take, however the fuck I want.”

You nodded as he turned your face to his, your eyelids batting against your cheeks that were smushed beneath his hands. His thumb found entry between your lips and you instinctively opened your mouth wide for him. He smiled contently at how quickly you obeyed his silent demand. You held your tongue out, and he grasped at your jaw in response, turning your head side to side as he observed every inch of your face. “You are so fucking perfect. So fucking mine.”

You had never wanted him more than you did in this moment. You were prepared to beg and plead on your knees for his cock, you would do anything for it, and he knew it.

“Fill my mouth, Jax. Please.”

He leaned down to you as he unclamped the buckle to his belt, smirking against your lips as he placed them on yours.

He released his long length against your face, and you immediately took it into your hands. His head fell back as you stroked him intently, pressing the tip of his cock against your lips. You planted small, wet kisses against his shaft, as your hands caressed his erection. Once you’d kissed every inch, you took him into your mouth, forcing him in deeper as you pulled him in you by his unbuttoned jeans.

He groaned at the sensation of your wet tongue, circling his length before you choked at the fullness of him inside your mouth. There was nothing quite like gagging on Jax’s cock.

“Look at me when you take me”, he demanded. Your eyes trailed up to him as you swallowed his cock, drool dripping from your chin and down your neck. Moans escaped his gritted teeth and his hands entangled in your hair, collecting the strands into a ponytail behind your head. He tugged at the root to push you in closer, as he used your mouth over and over again.

“Get on the floor.”

You knew better than to question the order. You did exactly what he said, laying against the cold concrete floor that laid beneath you. He stroked his length as he stood above you, instructing you on every move to make.

“Take off your shirt and lay down.”

Once you were half naked on the floor, Jax lowered himself into you. His cock pressed against your waist, as he pulled down your jeans and panties.

“Spread your legs wide for me.”

Jax didn’t wait any longer. He encapsulated himself into your mound, opening your wet folds as he thrusted into you. A gasp escaped your throat as he entered, relief filtering through every inch of your core.

“Oh you’re still fucking soaked for me, babe.”

You couldn’t help but whine at the immediate pressure building between your thighs, desperately trying to hush your voice. It was near impossible to keep from screaming as the heat from your groin was burning to be released. You’d waited for what felt like forever since Jax had you in the same position in the backseat of your car, and the anticipation of being relieved was a feeling you revelled in. He grabbed your throat with his hand as you laid beneath him, your ass crushing repeatedly into the cold tile as he pounded into you.

“Remember what I told you earlier? While my face was covered in this perfect pussy?”

You couldn’t respond, let alone think of anything that happened earlier tonight. You groaned out as the length of his cock engulfed your insides, and hearing him talk this way was sending you over the edge. How the hell were you supposed to think?

“What’s wrong, darlin’? Can’t remember?”

“I can’t think straight- like t-this, Jax,” you admitted. You were staring into his eyes as he pounded into you, fighting the need for yours to roll in the back of your head.

“Let me help you.”

He sat you upright, his dick still embedded in your mound, as he lifted your legs, bending them against him. He pulled at your ass, bringing himself even further inside, the feeling of fullness overwhelming you. Your back was now arched against him, giving him full access to your clit.

“Fuck- not helping-“, you cried.

His hands travelled from your ass to your cunt, circling his fingers over the swollen nub, while he fucked you into oblivion.

“Jax- oh my go-“

He smiled as he watched you lose yourself in your climax, succumbing to his cock. His head fell back in pure bliss as he felt your orgasm squeezing him.

“I told you, you’re mine.” His cock pushed further into you as his hand tightening around your neck, the skin turning a shade of red at the force.

Your head nodded violently, “I’m yours-“ you somehow managed to muster out, your voice cracking under the pressure of your orgasm and his hand around your throat.

Just as Jax was going to unravel with you, you were interrupted by the sound of the main entrance door opening, followed by footsteps. “Did you hear that?”, you whispered.

Jax leant backward enough for him to peer over the display window. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness to realise who the intruders were. It was Bobby and Juice.

“Is it Chibs? Do we need to go?”

Jax looked back down at you, sprawled half naked against the floor and completely, totally his. Seeing you this way, he couldn’t of cared who entered the warehouse, he was going to finish claiming you no matter who watched. He gleamed at the sight of your flushed pink cheeks and hair utterly strung awry, all the result of his doing. “Oh no, darlin’. I’m not finished with you yet.”

His cock found your entrance again, sliding into your dripping mound as he bit back a groan. “You feel so fucking good- taking me so well-“

You tried desperately to suppress your scream, failing as a squeal slipped through your lips.

Jax quickly placed his hand over your mouth, and you were thankful for the aid in silencing your whimpers. He roamed over your body and face, watching as pleas left your eyes, begging in desperation for another release. His lips pulled into a devilish smirk as he lowered himself completely into you, forcing his cock to push even deeper into your mound.

You groaned into his hand, his hips finding a way to submerge even further into your core. Jax was enjoying every moment of this, watching as your composure expired around his cock, while he never wavered, just holding himself there within you.

“You gotta be quiet for me now, darlin’,” he murmured slowly into your ear. “Can you do that for me?”

You nodded at his request, struggling to move from the weight of his body pressing against you. His hand tightened around your mouth as tears began to stream from your eyes, overwhelmed by the urge to stay silent against the extreme fullness you were enduring.

The footsteps grew closer, as Jax pushed deeper and deeper into you with each thrust.

You could hear Bobby lowly calling out, “Jax, where you at?”

He ignored his calls, focused entirely on you beneath him. Nothing else mattered to him but the way you felt wrapped around his cock.

He was relentless, repeatedly finding a new depth with each thrust into you. His hand stayed out against your mouth, and you bit at the skin to suppress the groans that couldn’t be muffled. He quickened his pace, and your fingers squeezed at the leather of his cutte as you found your final climax. Jax hunched his back, bringing his face to yours as he found his release with you, filling your aching cunt with his seed.

When he recovered from his end, he began to trail plentiful kisses from your chest, and up your neck. He paused at your jawline as he pressed a tight smile against your skin, nibbling at the flesh.

“You’re only mine.”

find my masterlist here

[imaginesmai]

You stared at yourself through the long-standing mirror that had a crack on the left side. The dress was long, but simple, and had a lacey design of sunflowers that matched the bouquet Gemma had chosen for you. The long sleeves made with lace looked elegant and soft, covering your whole arm and finishing right at your wrists. There was no long train, no veil or crown, nothing but the dress that made you feel like a princess.

It didn’t belong to Jax’s room, where last night events were still present. The empty bottles, the cigarettes on the ground, the crumpled sheets on the corner of the bed.

A pair of your panties on the chair.

Last night was wild, but you were much more at ease that right then. In front of the mirror, in your weeding dress, you felt like throwing up.

“You look beautiful” Gemma said from the door. “Are you ready?”

“I look like a flower vase. And I guess I am”

You didn’t look at her as she came closer. She was wearing a black, tight dress that left little to imagination, but that made her look like the queen. Standing in front of his mirror, in his room, the doubts appeared for the first time. Because, what if you were rushing things? What if you were invading his family?

It hadn’t been a rushed decision, months of planning and years of dating, but with Jax it was never easy. You had known each other since you were children, playing in the street with Opie and Thomas. As Piney’s daughter, you had grown in the club, between bikes and guns. And through the years, you had found your home in Jax’s arms, and he had made its way into your heart.

Gemma turned you around until you were looking at her, and she gave you a soft smile. The first tear decided to roll down your cheek, threatening to ruin your make-up. You tried not to think about the past, about your father being killed by Clay or your brother dying in a rotten cell from a cruel beating.

Last year had been heavy on you, on the club. You had delayed the weeding until everything was solved, and you thanked Jax for being so patient. But now, minutes away, you didn’t know if you were ready.

“What’s the matter, baby?” she caught the tear before it could do any damage.

“I don’t know” you said, feeling your chest becoming tight and heavy. “I don’t know”

“It’s okay to feel nervous. You’re about to take a huge step”

“I just – I know the club if my family, Gem, but… I wished they’d be here” you tried to stop the next tear. “They aren’t”

“Oh, Y/N. Come here”

You let yourself fall against her shoulder, careful not to ruin the dress.

There were things that you were certain about, like loving Jax, wanting a life together and doing anything for Abel. But you weren’t sure about many others. The constant beef with other clubs and organizations, your role in Abel’s life, the responsibilities of becoming the wife of the club’s president. Just last night, naked and drunk, Jax and you had dreamt about your shared life from now on, and you would have thought you were invincible.

But you had learnt that good things didn’t match your lifestyle, that you weren’t that lucky.

You didn’t know how much time you spent between Gemma’s arms, just hugging her tightly and waiting for your fears to go away. It was stupid, because you had gone through horrible things together, but somehow marrying felt like the last straw.

Once you were sure you weren’t going to break down, you took a deep breath and broke away.

“You sure you’re ready?” she asked, gripping your forearm.

“Yeah. Just – yeah”

Both of you had decided that you wanted a simple weeding, just the club and a few friends, so the club had been the chosen place. A friend of the club would officiate the wedding, and then, you had rented a catering service for the day. It was simple, and easy, but you couldn’t convince your heart to play along.

You walked down the familiar hallways, now empty, holding onto Gemma’s arm. In silence, you begged yourself to enjoy the day and forget about the past.

When you saw him waiting for you, with white shirt and denim trousers, you felt those worries slipping away.

Jax had been worried that you would change your mind, that something had happened, so he had sent his mother looking for you. After last night, he had left you to get changed and get everything ready with the boys, who didn’t help calm his nerves. What did help was finally seeing you walking towards him, as pretty as a dream.

He had chosen the only shirt he owned, had ironed his trousers and cleaned his sneakers, and he felt like the tramp as you were his lady. No matter how well he cleaned himself or how much effort he put into the details – he would never catch up with you.

Abel, who was holding the wedding rings next to his father, moved around with a nervous laugh.

“She looks beautiful, right?” Jax told him, not tearing his eyes away from you.

After what felt like forever, you finally made it to his side. Gemma took away the bouquet and you leaned for a kick kiss from Abel, who laughed once more before leaving. Everyone got up as the priest started talking, but you only had eyes for each other.

For Jax, it was hard to believe he was actually there, that he deserved it. That you had said yes and were about to become his wife. You stared at his blue eyes as he told you about it without a word, just with his side smile and the utter devotion he looked at you with.

“Not too late to change your mind” he half-joked, holding your hand.

“Same thing” you whispered back, squeezing it. “You sure about this?”

You were sure, and Jax too, but in your line of life, it was hard to believe when things turned out to be good. He had been your anchor through the years, and having a ring on your finger wouldn’t change it or make it better. It was only another step you were willing to take with him, one of many you had yet to take.

The way Jax stared at you while the priest continued with the ceremony cleared any doubt you had about it.

“I love you, darling” he answered after a moment. “I’m not going anywhere”

[drabbles-mc]

Nowhere To Be

Opie Winston x F!Reader

For one of my favorite people, @justreblogginfics with the prompt: The party was great but now it’s time to find their way home, in the middle of the night in the freezing cold in high heels and a party dress.

For @storiesofsvu Holiday Bingo 2023 prompt: New Years

Warnings: 18+, language, implied/referenced smut, pining

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: I have missed Opie so much, so thank you for giving me the inspo and the opportunity to write this fun little somethin' for him! Happy New Year! 🥰💖

SOA Taglist: @espieviolet99 @littlekittymeow @i-just-read-stuff @fuckyeahopie @withmyteeth @buckybarneshairpullingkink @paintballkid711 @jitterbugs927 @fanfic-n-tabulous @mijagif @frattsparty @choochoo284 @artemiseamoon @darqchilddaydreamz @nessamc @garbinge @winchestershiresauce (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

“It is cold in California!” you said, exasperated.

Opie chuckled as he stood beside you. Part of him wanted to make a comment about the fact that you knew that, that you’d grown up in Charming just like him. Sure, you’d been on the East Coast for a few years but it wasn’t nearly long enough to wipe your memory clean of it. Plus, you’d been back in Cali long enough to have not made this mistake—you were just too tempted by the idea of a party and getting dressed up and going out.

He wanted to say all of that, could have, but instead he just said, “Yeah, it is.”

Turning to face him, you huffed out a sigh. “Why is it cold in California? I thought it was supposed to be all beaches and sunshine here.”

“You probably wouldn’t be so cold if you didn’t—”

“I look good,” you cut him off, knowing exactly where his sentence was going. “That’s not the issue here.”

“I mean,” he shifted so that he was pressed closer to you, his fingertips dragging up the side of your leg that was left exposed by the short dress that you’d worn to the party, “this feels like it might be part of the issue.”

You rolled your eyes, glad that you could say the goosebumps breaking out over your skin were because of the cold and not because of the feelings and thoughts that were coursing through you at just the slightest touch. Despite your initial impulse, you swatted his hand away.

“You didn’t seem to think it was much of an issue about an hour ago when we snuck off to the bathroom and—”

“Alright,” it was his turn to cut you off, chuckling as he did so.

He shrugged off his leather jacket, one of the million layers he always seemed to be wearing whether it was the first day of January or the last day of July. He held it out for you to take and for as much as you liked giving him a hard time, you weren’t quite committed enough to that endeavor to turn down the opportunity for some extra warmth. You snatched it out of his hand and slipped your arms into the sleeves, feeling relief not just because you immediately felt warmer, but also because the jacket smelled like him and there was comfort to be had in that too.

“Thank you,” you said, leaning into him, hands pressed against his chest.

He smiled. “Welcome.”

You tilted your head just a little farther back so that you could get a better look at him. He had one arm draped around your waist, hand resting on the small of your back. His other hand was placed on your hip, not holding you too tightly but it also would’ve taken some effort if you really wanted to pry yourself away. Not that you had any interest in that.

“Can I tell you something?” you asked.

He scanned your face for a moment, wishing that he had any idea at all where your next sentence was going to go. He knew what he wanted you to say next, but he also knew better than to hold his breath over it. Plus it was New Year’s Eve, or rather New Year’s Day by hardly an hour. And you were drunk not just off the alcohol you’d both had all night but also from the energy of the party. He knew better than to get his hopes up, and yet.

“Confessing crimes already? Year just started,” he joked.

You laughed and shook your head. “No, no crimes.” You leaned a little more onto him, taking the weight off one of your feet. “Ugh, these heels are killing me. I can’t even think.”

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s why you can’t think.”

You laughed, giving him a playful shove. “Shut up.”

“What’d you wanna—”

You cut him off, not meaning to, but you were already moving onto the next thing. “We gotta get back to the hotel. Because if I have to stay in these shoes any longer, I’m gonna,” you laughed, “then I’m gonna commit some crimes to confess to.”

He chuckled. “You remember how to get back?”

You turned and looked at him. You tried to hold in your laughter and failed. “No.”

He wanted to be annoyed but he had sort of seen it coming. It wasn’t surprising, to say the least. “This was your idea,” he teased as you pulled out your phone.

You waved him off. “Going out was so much easier before.”

“Yeah? Why’s that?”

You looked up from the GPS on your phone for a moment so that you could look him in the eye. Keeping your tone and facial expression as serious as ever, you said, “Because all the streets in New York are fuckin’ numbered, Ope.”

The statement hung in the air for a second between the two of you before you both started laughing. Opie shook his head at you, knowing that if it had been anyone else he would’ve left them to their own devices awhile ago. But it was you. He wasn’t going anywhere if it was you.

By the time you got yourself somewhat back under control, your GPS had loaded directions for how to walk back to your hotel. Lucky for you, it wasn’t as far away as you thought that it was going to be.

“I got it,” you said as you showed him your phone.

“Let me see that,” he replied, reaching to take the phone from your hand.

You swatted him away. “Hands off! You don’t think I know how to get us back?”

He raised his eyebrows slightly. “You want my real answer to that?”

You rolled your eyes. “I know how to follow a map.”

He shook his head, reaching for your phone again. “You don’t even look like you know how to follow a sidewalk right now.”

You gestured angrily at your heels. “That’s because of these shoes. Honestly, you might just have to carry me back.”

He chuckled, following behind you as you set off down the sidewalk in the direction your map was telling you to. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.” You looked over your shoulder at him. “That, or you can just drag me behind you like a caveman.”

He fell into stride next to you. Draping his arm over your shoulders, he said, “That sounds more like me.”

“Yeah, goes with the caveman beard you’ve got going on now,” you joked, reaching and toying with the ends of his beard for a moment. It was so much longer than it had been the last time you were home. Jury was still out on how you really felt about it—it took away the last of his baby-face.

He shook his head, knowing that you were always going to come up with something to give him grief about. Of the many things that had changed over the years, that was something about you that had remained constant. Infuriating and amusing all at once. He let you have that.

“Stick around long enough and you’ll get used to it,” he finally said.

“I told you,” you leaned deeper into his side for emphasis, “I’m back for good.”

He liked the sound of that, but he knew better than to buy too heavily into it. He pressed a quick kiss to the side of your head. “We’ll see.”

“Where else am I gonna go?” you asked, your mock offense not landing the way it should’ve when you were nearly tripping on the gaps in the sidewalk concrete.

He steadied you without having to give it a second thought. “Don’t know.” He chuckled. “Right now I don’t even think you’re gonna get us back to the hotel.”

You gave him a shove, not enough to really make any difference. Even on your best day in much steadier shoes it would be difficult to get him to move if he didn’t want to. All the Winston’s were like that. Your half-attempt only served to make him pull you tighter into him, which worked better for you anyway.

His hand was still resting on your shoulder, fingers pressing into the leather of his jacket that was yours for the present moment. Like it was a reflex, you reached up with your free hand and threaded your fingers with his as the two of you walked. You gave his hand a light squeeze as the two of you reached the end of the block. You gave him no warning that the two of you were turning rather than continuing forward and using the crosswalk. You knew it, too, laughing as you made a sharp right turn and pulled him with you.

You were lucky enough to catch him mid-stride, knocking him just enough off-kilter to make him follow your lead. You hadn’t been expecting it to work, and you nearly stumbled and fell in the process. Laughing, you took another half-balanced step until you felt your back rest against the side of the brick building behind you. Opie had followed your steps, his palm bracing against the wall beside your head, one leg positioned between both of yours. Your shoulders shook as you tried to hold in your laughter, your face heating up so much you were certain that if Opie touched you, he’d be able to feel it.

You placed your palm against his chest. There were words caught in the back of your throat, things that you wanted to say, things you’d been wanting to say all night, but you couldn’t get them out. You opened your mouth, hoping that would force them out, but all that came out instead was laughter that faded into a hum as you tried to get yourself under control.

When you finally resigned yourself to not being able to say anything, you slid your hand up from his chest so that it was on the back of his neck. You pulled him down into a kiss, one that he gave into easily and eagerly, pinning you between him and the wall behind you, his hand that wasn’t bracing him against the wall gripping tightly onto your hip.

His hand slid down from your hip onto your thigh, and he was about to start sliding it right back up and underneath the thin fabric of your dress. You could feel it in his movements, the way that he had to convince himself to stop. You couldn’t help but to smile into your kiss, eventually letting the laughter bubble over when he pulled his lips off of yours.

Your body was still pinned, not that you had any desire to really be anywhere else in that moment. You let your hand stray from the back of his neck. Your fingertips ghosted along his cheek, brushing along the edge of his beard. Maybe it wasn’t so bad.

“Never gonna make it back at this rate,” Opie finally spoke up, not that he really seemed like he was in any great rush to go.

You laughed, head resting back against the wall behind you. “Got somewhere else you need to be?”

He smiled, shaking his head before snagging another kiss from you. “No. I got nowhere to be.”

[marvelous-slut]

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

[1-800-imagines]

taken | jax teller imagine

Request: Jax realizing he's still in love with you when you make sure the Irish take you as well as Abel so he's not alone. Backstory as Jax and you were dating, and he broke things off with him because he needed to see if things were still there between him and Tara. Please.

authors note: kinda switched around the events. takes place during season 2 finale

read part 2 here!

things had been tense between you and jax lately. before, the two of you were constantly together. 

now, tara had been back for a good while and jax had broken off things with you saying he ‘wanted to see if there was still something there’ with tara. 

it broke your heart. but you loved jax so when abel was born, you just lingered around, offering to help anyway you could. 

gemma was grateful for you when abel came home. you were able to watch him while you worked. 

gemma insisted you become his full time babysitter but you couldn’t, not with jax and tara playing house. it broke you inside, but you loved abel so you kept showing up. 

sometimes, jax would confide things in you, things he knew tara would never understand and those little moments had you holding out hope. 

when the club went into lockdown because of zobelle and his men, you were obviously brought to the clubhouse. 

it was the first time you were going to be directly interacting with tara. 

you tried to keep to yourself and with abel but her staring daggers at you never helped. “don’t mind her, baby. she’s trying to intimidate you.” gemma said as she walked past you and squeezing your shoulder. 

you looked up at gemma and gave her a small smile. she kissed the top of your head, “i got a few things to take care of. watch abel for me?”

you nodded, “be safe, yeah?”

“always.” she smiled and kissed abel then you one more time.

tara walked up to you, “why don’t you go home and wait till neeta gets there. i’ll make sure you’re paid.”

you rolled your eyes, “i’m not a fucking babysitter, tara. i take care of abel because i love him and want to help jax out.”

“whatever. just go wait at the house.” tara said walking out the door. 

“sack, go with them.” piney called out as one of the other guys had followed gemma and tara. 

half-sack drive you back to jax’s house. the three of you walked inside. you set abel’s car seat on the counter. 

you were in the middle of saying something when the door burst open and cameron haynes walked in holding up a knife. 

you gasped and tried to reach for abel but cameron got there first, “don’t move or he gets it.”

you stayed still. when cameron held the knife to abel, half-sack lunged forward causing cameron to turn and shove the knife into him. 

you screamed as he continued to stab him. sack fell to the floor and you scrambled towards him, trying to stop the bleeding. but it was too late. he was already fading. 

“gemma killed my son so i’m gonna take a son for a son.” cameron seethed. 

“kill me instead! please. he’s innocent. he’s just a baby.” your voice was frantic. you knew jax would never get over abel dying. 

cameron took your words into consideration as he pressed the knife to your neck. “i’m going to take him and you’ll never find him.” he whispered. 

“take me too. please. or kill me and leave him. it’ll look less suspicious with a woman and a baby.” you could barely catch your breathe you were crying so hard. 

“fine. get up.” cameron ordered and you reached for abel. he tutted at you and grabbed abel’s car seat while grabbing his gun with the other hand. 

“let me get some stuff, please. some diapers at least.” you begged. 

“hurry up and no funny business or i kill the kid.” cameron ordered. 

you ran to the nursery and grabbed diapers. you pulled out your phone and typed cameron in a text to jax. you were about to send it when you heard cameron’s footsteps so you put the phone in abel’s crib. 

cameron walked into the nursery to see what was taking so long but you had already grabbed abel’s stuff and were walking out with a diaper bag. 

“walk.” he ordered. you walked back through the kitchen and looked at half-sack on the floor. you choked back a sob. 

—

“where’s y/n and abel?” jax asked walking into the clubhouse, scanning the room for you along with the rest of his people. tara was sitting up at the bar. 

“tara and gemma had to run errands so tara sent y/n to the house with the kid and half-sack.” juice answered. 

jax looked at tara, “why would you do that? why wouldn’t you just keep them here till i got back!”

tara’s face fell, “jax i-“

“save it. where’s gemma?”

“there’s been a problem.” tara started and went to explain what had happened vaguely. 

“and you sent abel and her home?”

tara nodded slowly, “i didn’t know if was going to escalate! i didn’t even know where we were going.”

jax huffed, “you just didn’t want her near me.” jax knew how much tara hated you but you would always be apart of his life, no matter what. 

jax left before tara could answer heading home. he was furious and when he got there his stomach dropped. he saw half-sack on the floor, “shit.”

“abel? y/n??” he called out and went frantically searching for the two of you. when he got to the nursery he saw the smudged blood from your clothes and your phone. 

he opened it and saw what you had typed. 

jax turned around and looked at the men who had followed after him, “cameron took abel and y/n.” 

part 2 coming! 

[juancarlos-ortiz]

Denial - Juice Ortiz x Reader One Shot

A/N: A quick little one shot for Juicy pants - something sweeter this time! I am still working on Marked for Carnage but my life is a little hectic right now. Fingers crossed, next week the next chapter will be up. Please feel free to request a one shot if you wish! I will write for almost anyone from SOA.

Warnings: alcohol, swearing, mentions of sex (off page), kissing, smoking

Word Count: 1466 words

You bopped your head along to the music as you pulled the bottle opener from your back pocket, popping the tops off the beers in front of you. "Here you go, guys," you said, placing them on the bar in front of Tig and Chibs. "Thank you, sweetheart," Tig tipped his bottle your way whilst Chibs gave you a nod. You moved down the bar, serving members and the sweetbutts that hung off them. You had been working the bar for SAMCRO parties for many months now after your friend had begged you to tag along one night after they were down a person. You reluctantly agreed, having heard stories from other girls you knew were croweaters about how rowdy the parties could be and handsy the guys were. But surprisingly it had been a fun night and any guys that did try to hit on you, actually seemed to take no for an answer.

No, there was only one guy in this building you would want putting his hands on you. And he currently made his way to the bar, his eyes meeting yours and a smirk on his face. "What can I get ya, Juice?" you asked, already knowing his answer as you reached down into the fridge below the bar to grab a beer. "Beer please, beautiful," he winked, causing your skin to prickle with heat. Ignoring him, you popped the top and handed it over. He took a long sip and you watched the column of his throat dip as he swallowed, your blood rushing to your core and heart beginning to thump harder. He put his beer on the bar and smiled, aware of just how much he affected you. Crossing his forearms against the wood he lent in. "Busy tonight, sweetness?" he asked. You rolled your eyes, flicking the dishcloth over your shoulder out to lightly snap his arm. "Always busy, sweetness," you mocked before moving on to fulfill another order.

Juice stayed at the bar, watching as you moved around, taking orders, making people laugh, smoothly moving in between the other girls and the Prospects who were also working. He was playing it cool, but in reality his palms were drenched with sweat and his stomach was alive with butterflies. He could stand and watch you all night long, no croweater or pool game even a lick of competition to you. He felt someone elbow his side. Turning to face Chibs, he nodded in greeting. "A little distracted tonigh', aren't ye Juicy?" his brother asked. Juice just shrugged and had another long sip of his beer. "Been a long week, kinda tired," he lilted, trying unsuccessfully to pull his eyes from you. You passed a straw over to Piney with a laugh and shake of your head before you were heading back over to him, the sway in your hips and crook of your mouth making his pants suddenly tighter.

"You want another one?" you asked, tossing the dishcloth over your shoulder again. "I'll take whatever you want to give me," he prompted, causing your mouth to open. Juice was never usually this flirty at parties. You heard a scoff from a few seats down. "Would you two just hurry up and fuck already?!" Tig challenged, putting a cigarette into his mouth and lighting it. Chibs began to laugh into his drink. You huffed and crossed your arms. "What the hell are you talking about, Tiggy?" you sassed, lifting up their drinks and giving the table a wipe down. "You two," Tig motioned his beer to point between you and Juice. "The undressing with the eyes, the flirting…. It's painful," he blinked slowly. "Just do us all a favour and fuck each other." You let out a short laugh, your nerves setting in. What Tig didn’t know was that you and Juice had already had a roll in the sheets. Many… many… many… rolls in the sheets.

But it wasn't something you had made public purely because it was casual and you didn’t want to be seen as someone that any of the guys could have. Juice had agreed because he was fine with upkeeping his bachelor status with his brothers. You weren't exclusive but you certainly had not been with anyone else. You were unsure about Juice, and honestly you didn’t want to ask, but you were both being careful and it was just a bit of fun. But the last few times it had happened it had felt a little more than casual to you. It always happened at your place, usually after a SAMCRO party. The first few times Juice would usually leave pretty quickly after - which had been fine with you - but now he had made the choice to stay the night and usually for breakfast. Which meant you got to talk more, which in turn meant you got to know him better. And that had sparked some unexpected and intense feelings pretty quickly. You had been ignoring them because it seemed like Juice was on the casual train still and you didn’t want to fuck up what you guys had going.

"There is no undressing with the eyes, and Juice flirts with everyone," you shrugged, holding your hands out to lean against the bar. "Yeah right, and I'm the King of England," Tig rolled his eyes. "Can you believe the denial we're hearing right now?" he asked Chibs. "Ye better make a move soon though, swee'heart," Chibs chimed in. "If you don’t make a claim, someone else will." He and Tig got off their stools and moved over to the chairs where Bobby was lounging with a sweetbutt in his lap. You laughed humourlessly, before turning to move away. A hand shot out and grabbed your wrist. You looked up at Juice. "He was just kidding," he said, a forced smile on his face. You nodded and tried to smile back, shrugging your shoulders. "It's fine, Juice," you tried to step away but he held his grip. "You know there's no one else, right?" he asked, his wide brown eyes searching yours. "So what if there was?" you asked. Juice shook his head, gently pulling your arm so you would step back closer to him.

"I'm telling you, right now, there is no one else," he was dead serious, dragging his hand down your arm to lightly grasp your hand, giving you enough freedom to pull out of his grip if you wanted. "What are you doing, Juice?" you asked, looking over your shoulder to make sure the other girls were getting the drinks served. "You have to have noticed that things have been different," he pondered. "Like, a good kind of different." You swallowed thickly, nodding slowly. "I have but…" you lick your lips, Juice's eyes dropping to track the movement. "I didn’t think you did. Or that it's what you would want to be happening." Juice smiled. "You," he ran his thumb over the tops of your knuckles. "Are the only one I want to be going with. Going home to," he confessed. You blinked rapidly. "Is that ok with you?" he asked. You smiled nervously, narrowing your eyes. "It's definitely ok with me, but are you sure?" you asked apprehensively. He tugged on your hand lightly. "Come here, baby. Stake your claim," he stepped back and gestured towards himself. You chuckled, shaking your head, still unsure if this was real or some kind of cruel joke.

Stepping around the bar, you walked to him nervously. When you were close enough, Juice reached out to grasp your waist, pulling you into him quickly. You laughed, colliding with his chest. Grasping the lapels of his cut you tried to ignore the feeling of surprised eyes on you. "You're sure about this?" you ask again, making Juice sigh. "Positive," he said, squeezing your sides teasingly. "No more sweetbutts," you remind him. "And I know that you have that run clause thing but that shit doesn’t sit right with me either," you admit to him. "Baby," he tilts his head, eyes never leaving yours. "I haven’t been with any sweetbutts for months. Ask the other guys. The first time you dragged me through your front door and threw me down on your bed was it for me. There's been no one else. And won’t be. I don’t give a shit about the run clause." You smiled softly, heart warm with his confession. "Well in that case," you pulled him by his cut to meet you in a searing kiss, smiling at Juice's surprised sigh while his hands moved down to slip into your back pockets. "Atta boy, Juicy!" you heard Tig shout. Bobby cursed as he fished into his pocket, pulling out two $10 notes and handing one each to Tig and Chibs.

[dallianceangel]

𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐔𝐩 𝐈𝐬 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐓𝐨 𝐃𝐨 💔😭

Here’s another drabble for you, a sad one at that. 💔

💔 comments, likes and reblogs are highly appreciated 💔

“It’s him, isn’t it?” Angel asks, feeling physically sick. He knew you and him had reached the end of the road ages ago, but he never imagined the man you’d leave him for would be a fellow Mayan.

“Yes,” you reply, warm tears streaming down your face.

You’re expecting Angel to launch at him, but all he does is turn around and storm out of the clubhouse.

“He’ll never forgive us,” You sigh, hearing him start up his bike before riding away.

Bishop pulls you closer towards him, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head against yours.

[ughtoomanyfandoms]

Punisher (The Last of Us - Joel Miller): Masterlist

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

Summary: [no outbreak au; jackson, wyoming] Joel meets a woman with a dark past. Having just moved to Jackson from Northern California, she has to be careful with who she can trust, while trying to not let them get too close.

-or-

Joel Miller meets Sons of Anarchy cluster fuck :)

Note: this is really just me indulging myself on an idea i had. i dont know if it's gonna be any good or mean anything.

Series Warnings: in third person pov but no use of y/n (reader referred to with she/her pronouns), age gap (Joel in his 30s/40s, reader in late 20s), drug use, sexual content, swearing, mentions and depictions of violent content, dangerous acts only to be performed by professionals

Status: coming soon.

Read on AO3 or Wattpad.

pt. i pt. ii - epilogue

[theesirenteller]

Reaper's Crow. 𝒯𝓌𝑜 ☞

Chapter One

🅦🅐🅡🅝🅘🅝🅖 Kidnapping, Gore, Abuse, Violence, Profanity, OCC, glorification of serial killings, mentions of sexual violence, smut, mentions of PTSD, Sociopathisim, graphic violence, torture, blood, gore, deaths, dark undertones, angst, slow-burn romance

▌This fictional piece is AU with very little amounts of canon. I understand if this fic isn't your cup of tea. Please do not leave hate comments. The story is set some years after season seven. ▌

"Well I figured it was about time you got a lady friend. She's fine now. No need to drain her eyelid again, it's all cleared up. Just have to continue to ice the bruise. Once her ribs heal up she'll be ready to get up and move again. What's her name?" 

"Bye Doc." 

"Aw come on-"

"Don't let the door hit you on your ass on your way out." The Reaper said sharply in his low, guttural throat. A Marlboro cigarette soon nuzzled between his pink lips. The flick of his lighter clicking as he flamed it on. The warm golden hue kissed the edge of the tobacco stick that caused smoke to dance in the air.

The elder doctor scoffed with an eye roll before grabbing his medical bag and making his way out the bedroom. Running his hand through his salt and pepper hair as he rushed down the narrow staircase and quickly rushed out the front door. 

The loud bang of the slam lock and door shaking from its hinges caused the bedridden woman to flinch and awaken. Her heavy eyes slowly opened. The dull gray midafternoon light peaked in from the black curtains causing her sensitive eyes to squint a few times before she had opened them once again. Her blurred vision began to clear as she looked around. The room, from what she could see─was modestly sized. Big enough to fit the medium sized dresser and bed she laid in along with a chair. A chair someone was sitting in. A giant man dressed in layers of black clothing was sitting in. He sat so casually smoking his cigarette as he watched her. His large, muscular thighs overflowed on the seat, making it appear smaller than him. The two eyed one another with emotionless expressions and unsure eyes. She recalled the night she saw him and suddenly her eyes grew wet. Her lower lids formed tear droplets as her lips pursed. "Who are you?...I-I don-t-t know anything", her voice horse as she strained words together.

She had first been met with silence. "I didn't save you to ask you questions, kid. I didn't come there for you." His voice was like liquid midnight. So sultry, so smokey. The words glide off his lips like butter and drew her in like a piperman's lullaby. When he stood up from his seat he made the room appear smaller than what it already was. The Reaper's appearance exuded strength as he was very muscular and tall. With the neck and shoulders of a wide receiver football player. Thick, golden eyebrows that were quite bushy and gave his icy blue eyes an intensely destructive look. He was made to destroy based on looks alone. His large hand grasped a bottled water off of the top dresser beside her bed and with ease he popped the top off. Luckily, she was laid upright so it came easy to pass it to her for nourishment. "What's your name?", The death dealer asked as he watched her take sips.

"I don't have one." She whispered after moving the plastic bottle from her lips. 

"Come on, Everyone's got a name." He replied roughly with smoke flowing behind his words.

"Whore." She kept her eyes on the bottle. "It's what I've been called since I could talk…I don't have a name unless that's it."

His left hand cupped her jaw. His hand was warm and rugged as he lifted her head with a careful touch as her eyes set on him. His left eyebrow raised "Explain. From the beginning. From your beginning."

The battered woman had a ghostly look flash across her face. Like a broken china doll. "I was created at a Hen house. A Hen house is where men pay to get 'custom whores'. Nobody can file a missing person's report or care about someone who doesn't exist in the rest of the world. Women are housed in large houses to get impregnated, those are called 'Breeders'. And the babies are sold off to whichever client pays for it. Some get sold at birth and some at different ages…all depends on what the client wants." Her lips turned to a frown before she took another drink of water.

"I came to my master very young. I don't know how young b-but i've serviced him since before i spoke my first word." She admitted. 

The woman's revelation─or girl he couldn't even be sure of, made his blood boil. His fists clenched tightly, so tight that his nails dug deep into his flesh enough to leave dents. The Reaper didn't reject killing Stolbatch. He only regretted not making the process longer. There wasn't much chivalry in his job but this was the closest he'd gotten to it in a longtime. Her sullen voice broke him out of his inner thoughts. "What'd you say?" he asked in a softer tone. More husky.

"I asked your name. You said everyone's got one." She replied.

"Reaper." He moved from his spot near the dresser and made his way towards the door. "You've been asleep for about a week now. I'll get you something to eat. Pain's gonna kick in soon and you'll be needing your meds." 

"Reaper." She called out from behind him, causing the giant man to stop in his tracks and turn his head to the side, "Thank you." her voice grew shaky as she fought back tears. 

He said nothing but nodded his head before leaving.

 It carried on similar to their first meeting for the next two weeks. She barely saw him unless he was bringing her soup and crackers or coming in with medication. Other than that Reaper was gone the majority of the time. He was a man of little words. He barely spoke more than a sentence at a time. She didn't mind it. The woman was settling into her own reality of being free. Whatever that meant. She didn't know. 

Today was dreary. Wherever they were it was cold. Cold and wet. The sky was shaded dark gray and raindrops danced against the window. Feeling stronger than she had weeks ago, The bushy-haired girl sat in the chair Reaper would usually sit at. Instead this time she had moved it closer to the window. Dressed in a plain white long-sleeved cotton teeshirt that fit her a few sizes to big, Her large breasts kept it from spilling off her shoulders, a pair of grey joggers warmed her lower half with long black socks, A heavy fleece blanket wrapped around her shoulders as she sipped on her sweet, hot beverage. Hot chocolate. Her thick afro sat on her shoulders and warmed her collarbone and neck like a warm scarf. 

"Dont'cha think it's about time you picked out a name for yourself, kid?" His baritone voice sparked behind her. 

"How about kid since you already called me that?" She replied with a squeaky tone.

Reaper chuckled and shook his head as he edged closer. "More like Mouse would suit you better." he muttered. He then took a seat on the edge of her bed beside her chair. Hunched over with his elbows on his knees as he ran his hands through his golden hair. Today, he was dressed in a pair of faded black jeans, bulky leather buckle boots that were stained with gruff dirt stains, and a black wool cardigan that hugged his large muscles perfectly, "Look at me…in the eye this time." 

Biting at her puffy bottom lip, she slowly turned her head and looked at him. She found it difficult to look into his eyes for too long. A fuzzy warm feeling would form in the center of her chest.  A heavy weight would form in her stomach that felt like a brick. Her palms grew sweaty. Her obsidian eyes stared into his bright sapphire ones before she narrowed her attention on the gray hairs that peaked out from his honey-toned beard.

"Scout." 

"Scout?" She repeated with an unsure tone. Popping her lips a few times as she repeated it. 

"Fuck, that's shit…uh…",His eyebrows knitted together as he curled his lips into a frown. "How about Birdie? Like free as a bird."

"I like Scout." She said quickly as she sat up straight. "Cookies…There were these cookies and I remember they were called girl scout's cookies. I used to eat them a lot."

"Okay." A smirk fell across his lips, "Nice to meet you Scout."

She smiled at him in return, "Nice to meet you Reaper."

The pair locked in their gaze at one another. A comfortable silence falling over the two of them as they stared. A fire sparkling in their stomachs as their eyes warmed. Only for that fire to be put out by the sound of his mobile ringing. Reaper's expression turned back to cold in the blink of an eye. Stoically, he quickly got up from his seat and left the room.

It'd taken Reaper awhile to come back but when he did he looked unsettled. Conflicted. "Where would you like to go, Scout?" he asked. 

She looked at him with a confused expression which made his eyes close and his nostrils flare. "What?" she asked.

"Where would you like to go?" He breathed out with his shoulders slouching. He suddenly turned and pulled open the top shelf of the dresser. Digging inside it before pulling out a stack of cash. "Look I don't know where you'll go but it can't be with me. You're free now. I'll give you some money and you can start over wherever you'd like."

Scout's eyes widened as she panicked. "Wait!", swiftly she stood on her feet and edged towards him as he turned around. Her heart starting to race. Tilting her head up and craning her neck back she looked up at him, "Look please just take me with you. I-I-I..I won't be a bother i promise!"

Reaper exhaled deeply and began to shake his head. "Look Sc-"

" I am as good as dead without you! Please Reaper, take me with you or…or kill me now because there isn't anything out there for me." Fat tears fell down the sides of her face as she wept. Wailing like a baby, like a scared child. It'd felt like he'd be throwing her to the wolves. 

The Reaper looked down at his shoes before looking up at her once more. He knew she was right. And a part of him couldn't shake the feeling that his life was going to go through another change. He wasn't looking for a partner but he wasn't going to push what he already welcomed in, away.

"So, where are we headed now Reaper?"

The Reaper let out a grumbling grunt before speaking, "Look, we need to set some ground rules since you're gonna be tagging along." He then proceeds to clear his throat, "Rule one; No asking questions, Rule Two do as i say, Rule three, do as i say and stay put without asking questions, and Rule four shut up and blend in. I work for some fucked up people in higher ranks of power." His facial expression grew stiff as he drove, "I used to think I had power. Law enforcement I thought had power. But not like these guys. This goes beyond Biker shit…outlaw shit…beyond it all."

His blue eyes caught her onyx ones as he looked her over, "We're just ghosts amongst the living; you and me." 

Scout began to slowly smile and reached out her fist. "Ghosts amongst the living, me and you." she agreed as the two bumped fists.

Character Visual : Scout

Chapter Three

Taglist ; @youflickedtooharddamnit @darqchilddaydreamz @darklydeliciousdesires @wabi-sabi1090 @danzer8705 @laurfilijames

[ravennaortiz]

Happy for 2 and 13. Angst turned fluff. Our Killa doesn't always realize he deserves good things too.

P.S. If you get sick of my asks feel free to tell me to fuck off. I just adore your works and have a serious thing for Happy (and Chibs and Tig, but mostly Hap 😋)

You are speaking the truth! He does not at all and we will fix that one story at a time!

The way I busted out laughing at the P.S section! Mam you can do no wrong in my eyes and I will never get tired of tired of your asks! I will write you Happy stories until my fingers bleed and my eyes blur from staring at the screen! So send them in as you think of them!

Now back to your order. Looks like you want a Happy Meal with Angst and a side of fluff. With the prompts 2: I'm not the right man for you and 13: I promise. *Excellent Choice*

Over?

Happy had been dreading this conversation all week. Being on a week long run had given him the excuse he needed to put distance between the two of you. Allowed him to rebuild those walls he had been letting your chip away at the last few months. Tonight he was going to destroy the relationship you two had in order to keep you from meeting an early grave.

His lifestyle and past were too dangerous. Demons chased him and he couldn't think of you getting caught by one. His sins were not yours to atone for. The club shit lately was getting darker and darker. The last straw for him was what happened to Tara a couple of weeks ago. He had been haunted by the image of it being you. You in a pool of cold blood with eyes glassy and fixed on nothing. The sound of Juice's voice pulled him from his well of sorrows.

"Hap! Your girls here" called Juice as he saw you walk in. Happy had asked him to keep an eye out for you so that he could do this quick before you got to far into the clubhouse. The smile and wave you shot him was like a punch to the gut as he slammed his beer down and made his way too you. Grabbing your arm roughly he pulled you out the door behind him making you stumble as you tried to keep up.

"Happy? Whats wrong?" you questioned worry obvious in your expression as he turned to you. Happy had to ground himself as his resolve weakened at the concern in your voice. Giving himself a shake mentally he reminded himself this was what was best for you.

"We are over and you're not welcome here anymore" stated Happy firmly his face expressionless. "What? Why?" you struggled to get out as tears spilled down your cheeks. Happy shut his eyes and his voice shook slightly as he spoke again. "I'm not the right man for you. Life I lead isn't built for you and I don't deserve the sunshine that is you. So were done. Leave" replied Happy trying to be harsh at the end.

You were silent for a couple of minutes as you considered how wrong the stoic man in front of you was. Happy readied himself for the swift sting of a slap as he felt your arm move under his loose grip. The softness of your skin as you caressed his cheek had him opening his eyes. "Here I thought you were one of those smart bikers" you murmured as his eyes met yours. "Didn't even check me for a weapon before trying to break my heart" you chided giving him a soft smile.

"I can protect myself" he grunted as he grabbed your hand that was on his cheek. "Please go" he added quietly. "No. I don't accept your break up Happy. You're scared. Shit has been crazy I get it but that doesn't mean you get to push me away. " you stated defiantly eyes ablaze with passion as you spoke.

"I promise you Happy, you are the right man for me. " you added before leaning up on your tip toes to kiss his nose. "I love you. You're perfect in my eyes and need to stop being so damn hard on yourself. Just because you do....questionable things doesn't mean you don't deserve sunshine, rainbows and nose kisses" you soothed as you pulled him into a hug.

Happy sighed as he let you wrap yourself around him. "Guess I'm stuck with you" he rasped knowing you had won. "I can't wait to tell your momma how you tried to dump me when we go over to her house for dinner tomorrow night." you chuckled into his chest. "I'll have to check her for a weapon first" laughed Happy. His momma didn't play when it came to you.

Want more Happy? Click here

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[thisreadswhatever]

Only Mine

find my masterlist here

[description]: jax teller x fem!reader

[wordcount]: 2.4k

[cw]: 18+ only, smut, jealous overprotective Jax, angst, short fight scene (if you can even call it that), car sex, oral f receiving, teasing, unfinished sex

[authors note]: I had this idea floating around for awhile and then this request inspired the rest! thank you!

“I’m sure you say that to all the ladies.” 

You were along the bar, chin in palm, blinking your lashes at the man sitting beside you. He smiled back wryly. He was pretty perfect. Clean cut, slightly muscular, no tats covering him from top to bottom, no bike sitting in the parking lot. He was a little cocky, aware of his good looks, and in all honesty, any other day he’d be the type of guy you’d usually find pretty boring. But for tonight, he’d be a welcome distraction. 

“So you’re really here alone?” the man asked, looking around as he took a sip from the glass in front of him. 

You smiled back, twisting a strand of hair into your fingers as you sipped your beer, “that surprise you?” 

“Someone like you doesn’t come around here often. Can't imagine you haven’t been snatched up yet.” 

Technically, he was right. Jax and you hadn’t spoken in days, and although the mutual silence was a regular occurrence, you somehow always found a way back to each other. It never had been made ‘official’, but it never really needed to be. You both stuck to each other like the end poles of magnets, impossible to keep apart yet impossible to stay together. You and Jax were a burning flame amongst a sea of trees condemned to an endless drought. Your love was toxic and infuriating, and it pained you both how hurtful you could be to one another. Yet for some reason, you always went back. You’d reconnect, one of you would fuck up, and then it was back to square one all over again. 

“Haven’t found the one yet”, you teased. 

He gestured to the bartender with his hand, “can I buy you another beer?” 

You smiled politely back at him, “you can buy me as many as you want.”

You picked up your drink and pulled his hand with your other as you led him to one of the quiet booths settled at the back of the bar. You spent the next hour cosying up to your stranger, soaking in the attention he gave you. He was overly attentive and extremely polite, almost a little too nice for your liking. No roughness on the edges, no fight in him. Just a gentleman through and through. You sat inches from each other, tension building as the drinks continued to appear. 

“Can I kiss you?” The man asked as he leaned in, hovering above your face. It wasn’t often you were asked to be kissed. You stared into his eyes through your long lashes, nodding in approval.

He smiled shyly into your lips as they pressed against his. He was gentle, his hands slowly moving to your waist, never straying further. 

He laid back into the bench, taking a sip from his beer. “You know I never did catch your name.” 

You didn’t want to share anything with this stranger, the anonymity bringing less questions and expectations. 

“Later.” 

You cupped his face in your hand, grazing his jaw with your fingertips as you brought his mouth to yours again.

He was nice, but the longer you spent kissing your gentle stranger, the more you yearned to be in the hands of your depraved biker. Jax was urgent and desperate for you each time you were in his arms. There was a mutual desire that turned you both into crazed maniacs when you were together. It was something you’d searched for every time you were with someone else, because nobody you’d ever come across had given you that same feeling. 

Jax had a way of turning you into the only girl in the world. Until he was fucking the next croweater who threw themselves at him the following day. 

Tonight, you were going to allow yourself to enjoy the gentlemen in front of you. You leaned back into the bench, trying to edge him on top of you as you sunk into the bench against his lips.

You were so entangled in your stranger that you never even noticed him arrive with half of The Club. It wasn’t until you were interrupted by the break in your lips as he was pulling the man off you by his shirt, forcing him to the floor as he was knocked flat on his back. 

“Jax!”

“Dude! What the fu-“ he tried to stand up, but Jax placed his shoe directly on his chest, crushing him to the ground. The man grunted under the weight, failing to pry the shoe off of him. “What the fuck are you doing!?”

“What do you think you’re doing?” He pressed down into the man’s chest harder, restraining himself from crushing his rib cage all together. 

The stranger looked at you with wide eyes, trying to speak through the force compounding his lungs, “she said she was alone!” 

Jax smiled at him as he laid spread out on the dirty bar floor. 

“I don’t give shit what she said. Your time is up, pretty boy.”  

You were ashamed to admit that you thoroughly enjoyed watching Jax furious with envy over you, but you did feel bad for the innocent guy beneath his sneaker. 

“Get the fuck off him, Jax.” 

He glanced up at you, taking a long look at your flushed pink cheeks and swollen lips.

The crowded bar was now zoned in on your table, watching and entertained by the drama unfolding. Chibs, Juice and Bobby guarded the table, ensuring no onlookers got in the way of Jax’s jealous fuelled rage. 

He picked the man up by his collar, pulling him to his feet as he threw him against the wall. Jax gripped at his jaw, lifting his chin to force his eyes towards you at the bench. “I suggest you apologise for bothering my girl.” 

“Jax don’t be ridiculous-“ 

He ignored you, glaring at the man in his grasp, tightening the grip on his collar. 

“I’m sorry, okay!” 

“Not to me, asshole. To her.” 

You rolled your eyes, watching as he tormented the innocent stranger you had set yourself upon.

“I’m sorry I bothered you.” His voice cracked from the hold Jax had on his collar, draining the circulation from his neck.

Jax shoved the man off the wall, releasing him as he was once again flown across the laminate. He stumbled to regain his balance before he started running, bolting for the exit. He disappeared at the speed of light, chuckles from Juice and Chibs echoing through the bar as he ran. 

You stood up from the bench, storming off in anger for the door. 

Jax followed you into the empty, dark car park outside the bar. His hands stuffed into his pockets as he watched you slump against the brick wall, sliding down to sit on the pavement. You put a cigarette to your mouth as you searched for a lighter in your bag. You hadn’t felt tipsy until the air hit you, realising your head was spinning.

He paced over to you, crouching forward with his lighter, igniting the cigarette between your lips. 

“You’re such a prick sometimes, you know that?” 

Jax slid down the wall beside you, his legs bent slightly at the knees as he sighed to himself, lighting his own cigarette. “Not gonna argue with that.” 

He exhaled a large cloud of smoke as he spoke, “but you were basically fucking that guy in an open bar, y/n.” 

“First of all, no I wasn’t.” 

He chuckled, amused by your irritation. 

“And second of all, what the fuck has that got to do with you? You’re the one who decided to get knee deep in Ima last week, again.” 

“I told you I was drunk.” 

“And now I’m drunk too”, you protested.

He shook his head as smoke escaped his lips, fingers twirling the silver lighter in his hands. “That isn’t going to happen again.”

Your head fell back as you groaned at his promise, leaning against the hard brick behind you. “Yeah, ‘cause I haven’t heard that one before.” 

He smiled, nudging your leg with his playfully. “You know I mean it. Doesn’t matter who I’m inside, there's only one face I see.” 

You turned your head towards him, leaning your face on his shoulder. “I’m tired of this, Jax. You and your mommy issues are giving me whiplash.” 

“Yeah, well your baggage ain’t so easy to handle either.” He placed a hand over the back of your head, stroking your hair as he spoke.

You responded with a punch to his knee, swaying his leg. “You can’t just keep beating men up because they’re interested in me. That guy was actually sweet.” 

He threw his cigarette across the pavement before he grasped his hands into your hair, entangling his fingers between the strands. He crushed his lips against yours, his tongue lapping into your mouth. His fingers smoothed against your face, the feeling of his cold rings brushing against your cheek. Your foreheads connected as your eyes closed, resting silently along each other. “I can be sweet too.” 

You chuckled, playfully biting his lip. “You’re a sweet, jealous prick, Teller.”

He pulled into you once more, pecking your lips slowly before escalating into your lips, pulling you on top of him. You straddled him there in the lot, surrounded by empty parked cars in the dead of night. His hands gripped at your waist, pulling your body tighter to him, the feeling of his erection pressing into your jeans. Your hands twisted into his hair, holding his head against yours. He smirked against your lips, trailing his hands lower to your ass, as he secured his hands in your back pockets. He stroked your cheek with his nose, kissing the pink tinted skin.

“I just don’t like sharing what’s mine.” 

Your mouth found his as you raised your eyebrows, mumbling into his lips, “then take what's yours.”

He grinned, lifting you in one swift motion from his lap, standing you up against him. He pulled you across the parking lot as you stumbled drunk, trying to keep up. He led you to your car, opened the back door and pushed you flat against the back seat. 

Jax laid above you, planting himself between your legs. He angled himself between the seats, crushing his mouth against yours. His touch was ravenous, ripping the buttons from your jeans waistband as he pulled the denim from your ass. You giggled as he struggled to get them off entirely between the leather of the flat seat. You lifted yourself up, helping as he removed them. He pulled at your shirt, lifting it higher to expose the skin around your stomach as he leaned into you, gnawing at the skin in short pecks from your navel to your now exposed panties. You grasped at his hair as he claimed you with his warm mouth, suffocating himself into the fabric that covered your mound. 

“Jesus Christ, you’re fucking soaked for me.” He groaned at the taste of your slick pooling into the cotton, pulling your panties to the side. He circled his tongue against your clit, watching you, utterly mesmerised as you whimpered at the sensation. He rolled his thumb against your dripping fold, “this pretty cunt is mine.” 

Vibrations filled your entire being as he nuzzled into your mound, lapping his tongue repeatedly against your slick, his hands lifting your ass to push deeper into you. You tugged at the roots of his blonde hair, drunken moans of his name filling the car park as you struggled to keep quiet. He pulled away, his face glistening from your juices as he smirked at you, caressing his fingers against your pussy. “You want your sweet guy to finish you off?”

Your head fell back at the taunt, “c’mon Jax, don’t- stop-”

He pulled your panties down your ass, exposing your cunt entirely. His tongue stroked you, prodding at your swollen nub, before hesitating again. “Tell me you’re mine.” 

“Fuck, Jax- I’m- yours. I’m only yours.” The words trailed slowly from your gritted teeth, your head swirling from the feeling and the beer. You chased for his mouth, drawing your hips up closer to his face.

“Look at me when you tell me.”

You used all your might to lift your head from the seat, finding his eyes staring into yours, fire blazing within them. You spoke between your sharpened breaths, trying to form a coherent sentence. “I said- I’m yours.”

“I can’t hear you, darlin’. You’re only what?” 

Your head collapsed into the leather seat, cries escaping your lips as you squirmed your hips higher to find his mouth again. “I’m yours- Jax- shit-”

“That’s my pretty girl.” 

He stoked his tongue against your clit, enjoying every moment as you pleaded through your moans for him to take you to your climax. He was revelling in your anguish as he teased at your cunt. He played with your folds again, his fingers caressing the soaking skin. 

“No other man comes near my pussy, isn’t that right?”

You groaned in response, his claim on you sending you further into spiral. “No- no one else.”

His lips reconnected to your cunt, whimpers of desperation pouring from your lips. His fingers finally found your entrance, rewarding you as he slid into your seam, pushing you towards your release. 

He muttered into your mound, “you only cum for me.”

Your body exploded at his instruction, collapsing onto his fingers as they curled against your sweet spot, his mouth soaking in your orgasm. He delighted at your unravelling, his hands travelling your body as he found your breasts, kneading into the soft skin.

“That’s it, pretty girl. Let go for me.” Your thighs shook around his face uncontrollably, squeezing his head into your cunt.

He released his hand from your mound, hovering over you as his lips laid flush against yours. He danced around your mouth, forcing you to taste your slick that covered his tongue. Jax straddled over your hips, holding himself up against the headrest of the seat as his throbbing cock found your entrance. He positioned himself, sliding between the folds, a squeal escaping your throat as he filled you entirely. 

Before he could fuck you senseless, a loud repeated bang was heard against the hood of the car, startling you both.

“Jackie boy! We gotta go!”

Jax collapsed against you, groaning in frustration. If you weren’t so drunk from Jax and the beer, you would’ve been furious. Instead you giggled, amused by the interruption, “Chib’s and his impeccable timing.” He sighed, his head resting against your chest. 

He pulled out from you, as you rushed to put your underwear back in its place. He smirked against your mouth as he kissed you one last time, parting your lips between his, "guess I’ll just have to finish claiming you later.”

read part two here

[fanficimagery]

Angel’s Reina

The Sons of Anarchy have always wondered just what type of man SAMCRO's Princess was into, but she never dated. Or if she did, she was super secretive about it and managed to date undetected. Now, however, the Sons have some visitors and it seems they're finally going to find the answer to their long awaited question.

Words: 6.3K Author's Note: Sons!AU because Clay and Gemma make everything worse and I like to keep shit lighthearted and fun. Sorry.

For your entire life, being hailed as SAMCRO's princess felt like a heavy weight on your shoulders. Add in a mother like Gemma Teller and a stepfather like Clay Morrow, and it made life all the more difficult. Especially when puberty hit and the Sons of Anarchy suddenly became overprotective big brothers and uncles.

But while they were overprotective, they were also curious as to why they'd never gotten the chance to dole out some pain to a hormonal teenage boy who thought he could put his hands all over you. Jax and Opie were the ones who were most interested in your hopefully nonexistent dating life, but it was your mother who was attempting to plan a wedding to any Son of your choosing so long as it kept you in Charming.

And staying in Charming wasn't really in your plans until Clay wound up dead and your mother not too far behind him thanks to her binge drinking ways.

It took a while for things to calm down within the Sons after losing their President and Queen, but Jax and Tara filled their roles perfectly. You reluctantly took over for the garage, but not before Jax completely gutted it and then upgraded it. You didn't mind the paperwork and filing system, but technology made things faster and easier and you weren't about to fall behind like you mother constantly was.

Then when things actually were calm and Jax started to make peace with the other MC's, only then did everyone start to loosen up and be at ease without constantly looking over their shoulders.

When the clubhouse parties started back up, it was hectic. The Sons and the hangarounds were ecstatic that the sweetbutts made a reappearance, but they weren't too ecstatic at Tara's rules for them. You sat and watched, and then helped your sister-in-law rid the clubhouse of the women who wouldn't stop pushing up on the married men. And when the men made a pass at you, you made sure to pull rank- as much as you hated it- and send the men on their way less they get a beat down from either yourself or your brother.

After numerous parties where you sent men on their way, the Sons started to become curious as to why you wouldn't hook up with anyone. They weren't as overprotective as they once were and were truly curious as to the type of man you'd invite to your bed. But when you refused to talk about the type of man you were attracted to, they took it upon themselves to figure it out by having shirtless men walk around the clubhouse.

They knew you didn't like them too old, so half the Sons were out. You'd seen Opie naked more times than you'd like to admit and never were awkward around him, so he was out too. You admitted to thinking Half-Sack was cute, but he was too nervous around you given your last name and Juice was- well he was too much of a horn dog. You didn't think he had it in him to be faithful, so you were never tempted by him.

The closest they got to you cracking was when Happy stripped out of his shirt in the middle of the club so he could be tattooed. The way he leaned against the bar, jeans riding low and the V of his hips on display, made you pause, but fortunately only Tara was the one who noticed. Her eyes widened, but you quickly shook your head and busied yourself to make you forget about the attractive sight just on the other side of the room. She laughed, but it was easy to squash the crush on the stoic man when you remembered the whole reusing condoms phase he went through and everyone who had to get tested for a STD.

Fortunately for you, Tara keeps your secret, but it was only a matter of time before the others found out.

Especially since the day before Halloween the Mayans decide to roll in for a weekend visit.

Sitting in your air conditioned office, your knee bounces anxiously as you stare at the clock in the corner of your computer screen. It's Friday, which means Halloween is tomorrow, and you're more than ready to start preparing for your favorite holiday. The second the clock strikes five, you're up and out of your seat, and lunging for the door.

"Alright, motherfuckers, clock out!" You yell after exiting your office. "It's Friday, tomorrow's Halloween, and if you're not dressing up then you know the drill! I want the candy tubs filled so all the crotch goblins of Charming leave here with a smile!"

Laughter meets your ears, everyone knowing how serious you took Halloween, and the men on shift start making their way towards you to clock out for the day. You smile at each of them, pulling the beanie from your head and tossing it onto your desk.

"YN!" Jax shouts. "Get over here."

Seeing your brother standing out in the parking lot, you immediately strip out of your plaid long sleeve. You wrap the sleeves around your waist, leaving you in a tank top and jeans, and continue to make your way outside. You squint your eyes as soon as the sun hits you, but you can still see a few new faces standing around your brother.

With a hand shielding your eyes, you nod at him. "What's up?" You quickly glance at the men around him, nodding in greeting, and you grin when you see a familiar face. "Obispo!"

The Mexican man has a lot more gray in his beard than you remember, but he's still as handsome as ever. You turn towards him, arms wide, and embrace him with a smile. "Princesa, how many times do I need to tell you to call me Bishop?"

"You can tell me for the rest of our lives, but it doesn't mean I'm going to listen." You squeeze him a little before stepping back. "What brings you guys to our backyard? Club shit or pleasure?"

"A little bit of both." You glance at each man then, shaking your head in amusement when you see their amused grins. "Mija, this is Creeper, Angel, and Ezekiel (call me EZ)." Your eyes trail over each man and pray the blazing sun is good enough reason to blame the impending redness of your cheeks on. Each man is handsome in their own right, but there's one among the group that is making your insides squirm.

You've heard the names of the Mayans before, but never really had any pictures to put a face to the name. Now, however, as Angel Reyes stands before you, you can't help but appreciate how he looks in a long sleeve shirt with its sleeves rolled up and showing off tattooed forearms.

When you see Angel's arms flex, your gaze darts up to his eyes crinkled in mirth and you know he caught you ogling. Narrowing your eyes slightly in return, you're about to introduce yourself when an arm is suddenly wrapped around your shoulders and squeezing you to the culprit's side. You grimace and look up to find your brother smirking. "Gentlemen, this is YN. Princess of SAMCRO." You roll your eyes at the title. "If you need anything and Tara isn't around, you go to her."

"Yeah, yeah. Prospect's still on bitch duty. I only handle the nuisances."

"Nuisances?" Angel smirks.

"Mhm. Some sweetbutts are rather persistent when it comes to a man in a kutte. If you got an old lady back home and don't want anyone pushing up on you, let me know right now. And for the love of god, stay away from Ima."

Jax chuckles as you sneer at the blonde's name. "What'd Ima do now?" Bishop wonders.

"Still has her sights on Ope, can't handle taking orders from Tara or I, and thinks she should get some special privileges around here because she's been around for years." You roll your eyes. "I swear to god, Obispo, the next time she looks at me wrong I'm gonna take a bat to that prissy little car of hers."

"I thought your fighting days were over, mija?"

Jax barks out a laugh and you're quick to elbow him as the Mayans glance between the two of you in amusement. "She's a Teller, man. If she can't walk around with a kutte, she's gonna walk around with bloody fists."

"Shut up." You swat Jax's abdomen before stepping away from him. "I'm not a violent person."

"Not until Ima's involved."

"Whatever." You give your attention to the Mayans. "If you're sticking around through tomorrow, you guys gotta follow tradition."

"And what's that, querida?"

You gulp under Angel's stare and quickly avert your gaze. "If you refuse to dress up, you gotta hand over cash for the candy funds. Every year we set out a few tables of candy and the kids of Charming stop by. There's usually four or five stations- candy, chips, drinks and pencils with pencil toppers to encourage them to stay in school. Bobby's in charge of the grill and Juice is on music. It's my favorite night of the year and no one is going to mess it up for me."

"You guys don't have to chip in," Jax says and you gasp, scandalized he would say such a thing.

Bishop, however, chuckles and reaches for his wallet in his back pocket. You give a short happy squeal when Bishop pulls out a fifty and gestures for his boys to do the same. Jax rolls his eyes as you skip forward and pluck the cash from Bishop's hand, and then kiss him on the cheek. "Thank you, Obispo."

"De nada."

Creeper and EZ are holding out twenties when you glance at them, and you pluck them with a smug smile. When you move on to Angel, however, he pulls his cash back when you reach for it. "Don't I get a kiss too, querida?"

You narrow your eyes at the smug Mexican, heart pounding. When he continues to smirk, you roll your eyes and push up on the tips of your toes to kiss his cheek while plucking the cash from his hands. "There. Happy?"

"Over the moon."

You snort and turn around, folding the cash in your hands to pocket when your brother's next words make you tense. "YN, are you- are you blushing?"

"What? No!" You blurt a little too fast, eyes wide when you look up.

Jax's own eyes are wide, mouth agape in his shock. Slowly but surely, he starts to smile. "Did- did one of the Mayans just break our case wide open?"

"No!"

"Uh, what case, 'mano?"

"Nothing!" You whirl around, pointing a finger at Angel who's quick to step back with his hands up. "Don't worry about it."

"Holy shit." Your brother laughs. "He did!"

"It's fucking hot out here, Jackson! I'm red because of the heat!"

"Or you're red because you got a thing for them Spanish boys," he says a little too smugly. Your mouth drops open and he laughs even harder. "Oh fuck. Wait until I tell the boys."

Unable to think of anything that will deter your brother, you hit him with your shoulder as you pass. "You're a dick, Jax."

"Love you too, sis."

As the group of men watch YN Teller stalk off, Bishop chuckles. "Care to fill us in, el presidente?"

Jax glances back at the Mayans, grinning. "For a couple years now we've been trying to figure out just what type of man my sister is attracted to. She's never brought anyone around and while we know of a few people she thinks are attractive, none of them have made her blush like your boy Angel has."

Angel suddenly preens at the news, clutching his kutte and straightening it out, and EZ rolls his eyes before smacking the back of his brother's head. "Don't even think about it, hermano."

"Why not? Big bro doesn't seem to have a problem with it."

EZ glances at Jax and the blonde chuckles. "If he thinks he can handle her, I say go for it. My sis is a pain in the ass. It'll be hilarious to see her squirming for once."

Bishop shakes his head at his secretary. "If you go after la princesa, don't mess around with the sweetbutts. We don't need any unnecessary drama."

"Whatever you say, Bish. Whatever you say."

Jax laughs as he gestures for the Mayans to follow him inside. "Come on. Let's hammer out the details for the gun trade because come tomorrow this place is going to be Halloween central and my sister will cut a bitch if anyone ruins her night."

. .

. .

As the night progresses, the clubhouse fills with its usual hangarounds and sweetbutts. You've opted to tend to the bar next to Half-Sack, keeping an eye on the happenings all around to make sure you don't have to interfere. Occasionally your gaze slides over Angel, eyes narrowing at all the sweetbutts gathered around the group. You keep telling yourself you're watching them more than usual because Jax and Opie are there, but you can't fool yourself for long. You're keeping an eye on which sweetbutt is gonna get the most disgusting chores around the club for getting too close to Angel.

"Wow. Jax wasn't kidding." Tara slides onto a stool across from you, eyes sparkling in amusement. "The Mayan, YN? Really?"

Your gaze snaps to your sister-in-law and you lower yourself behind the bar, arms crossed atop the counter as your chin rests on your arm. "I can't help it. He's so pretty."

"Wow. I for sure thought you were going to be attracted to the bald one after I saw you ogling Happy that one time."

You chuckle. "They're all hot, Tara, but Obispo is too old, Creeper looks like a strong silent type and EZ seems just a tad too goofy. His smile reminds me too much of Juice."

"What do you like about Angel then? That is his name, right?"

"Yes, and.." you sigh longingly. "I don't know. "He's just- he's pretty," you whine. Tara's head tips back as she laughs. "And then he started with the pet names in Spanish and the lady bits started tingling. It was lust at first sight."

"Do we have to worry about you starting a fight over the Mayan?" Your sister-in-law continues to giggle.

You sigh and then straighten up, grabbing up a dish towel and wiping down the bar top. "Nah. I mean I might glare and be a little petty, but I won't start an actual fist fight. Just a couple more hours and then I get to go home, and all will be well come tomorrow."

"Or he and every sweetbutt dressed in a slutty costume will test your resolve tomorrow night, and I'll end up having to babysit your ass."

"Don't pretend like you're not enjoying this."

"Oh I am," she muses.

Tara keeps you company for the rest of the night, pulling you from behind the bar and taking great pleasure in seeing you squirming over some guy. You end up sitting with the group of guys, sandwiched between Opie and Happy, and doing your best to not look in Angel's direction. Then when the clubhouse starts to clear out, Jax has Juice bring out a dry erase board.

"What's going on?" Bishop asks as he takes in the names written on the board.

"They're making a bet on what my costume will be," you say.

"Please let it be something slutty," Tig begs. "Like last year! That was a great costume," he says while crossing himself and then holding his hands together as if in prayer. You laugh.

"What were you last year?" Angel asks, eyebrow arched.

You slowly grin at him. "Slutty nun."

"The stockings. Oh god, the stockings," Tig groans as the men all chuckle.

"Dios mío." Bishop snorts, shaking his head.

Every bet is worth ten bucks and you're not surprised over half of them guess you'll be something sexy and/or slutty- Velma from Scooby Doo, Harley Quinn, and a ringmaster being some of your favorite guesses. Even the Mayans get in on the fun, Angel and Creeper immediately going the slutty route as well with hopes of you dressing as a sexy cheerleader or a sexy witch. Surprisingly it's EZ and Bishop who take their time thinking about it, but while their guesses are of the non-sexy variety, they still don't guess it.

"You guys are insane." You chuckle as they argue over who's got it right, some even changing their guesses.

"But did we get it right, querida?" Angel wonders.

You shrug and stand, getting ready to call it a night so you're well rested for dealing with all the candy hungry little gremlins. "You'll just have to wait and see."

"And don't go changing your outfit at the last second, lass," Chibs calls out.

"I'm not." Your eyes roll. "But just a heads up, you boys are on your own tomorrow. I'll be here in the morning to make sure we have everything that you'll be setting up and then I'll be going back home to dress."

"It involves makeup, doesn't it?" Jax guesses. You slowly grin at him and the men all curse, hurriedly changing their vote yet again.

"Happy guessing, boys! I'll see most of you tomorrow evening."

You get several decent hours of sleep before you make your way back to Teller-Morrow Automotive and make sure the early rising sweetbutts and Half-Sack know how to decorate for the evening's festivities. Then after making sure everything is in order so the night will run smoothly, you swing by the local diner to pick up some breakfast before heading home.

You don't have to start getting ready until three or so, so you set an alarm and go back to sleep.

And then when your alarm goes off, you take your time in the shower to exfoliate and prepare yourself for the transformation you're about to go through.

The first thing you do after drying off is blow dry your hair. You don't want to curl it too soon, so you clip it at the back of your head to deal with later. Then shooting off a quick text to your neighbor to get her ass to your place, you get started on your makeup.

From your hairline down to the top of your chest, you paint yourself white. Your neighbor gets in just in time to paint the back of your neck and your back, and helps you decide where the best places to shade in black are. Your temples, eyes, mouth, neck and collar bones get shaded in black, and then your neighbor helps you glue on some golden decals around your face, brow, neck and collar bones. You use the gold paint to paint your nose and mouth, and then you keep a small fan on your face while your neighbor curls your hair for you before pinning it to one side of your head so your curls fall over your left shoulder.

As you're looking at yourself in the mirror, you decide to put in some whiteout contact lenses to give you an even creepier vibe. Your neighbor helps you into your strapless white lace dress with a short train that looks as if you walked through ash, and then you dip your fingers into the golden paint one by one.

"Holy shit, babe. You look hot," your neighbor gushes. You wrinkle your nose at her, counting down the minutes until your fingers dry so you can be on your way. "Are you sure you're not trying to impress someone?"

"I'm not." You laugh. "I've had this costume planned for weeks. It's not my fault the hot guys came after."

"Hot guys? What hot guys?"

"Mayans from down south. There's this one in particular who keeps calling me pet names in Spanish. It's taking everything in me to not climb him like a tree."

Your neighbor laughs. "Well if you do, take a picture of him so when you give me all the filthy details, I'll have a face to put to the name."

"Will do."

When you're all set to go, you grab your golden starburst crown and carry it with you. You didn't want to put it on and hit the roof of your car, so you figure you'll just put it on when you get to your destination. Then after kicking your neighbor out and locking up, you find yourself in your car and heading back towards your place of employment.

The orange and black streamers along the fence line of TM Automotive makes you smile, as well as the purple twinkling lights you can barely see since the sun was still in the sky. Inside the parking lot, there are four long tables set up- each table draped in a black, orange, green or purple tablecloths. One table contains nothing but buckets of candy, another is lined with small bags of chips, another has juice boxes, and the last has fun pencils, pencil toppers, and tiny toy desk companions for the kids to play with. There are even Halloween inflatables- a Frankenstein, a patch of cruelly smiling pumpkins, and a black cat- and you can't help the giggle that escapes you.

Parking off to the side of the building and away from prying eyes, you hurriedly get out and use the reflection of your window to put your crown on. Once it's situated, you start your trek around the side of the building and towards the front where everyone is lingering about.

Jax spots you first and his brow furrows before you smile, wiggling gold-tipped fingers at him. "Cat got your tongue, Jackson?"

"Holy shit! YN?"

Angel, who'd been laying on his bike, smirks before pulling his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose. "Damn, mami, you do that yourself?"

"Yep." You strike a pose for them before giggling. "So, I think my costume falls under the category of skeleton. Who had that?"

Bishop raises his hand and the gathered men all groan as a roll of bills are passed over to him. He's all swagger as he saunters up towards you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. "Te ves hermosa (you look beautiful)."

"Thank you, Obispo."

Everyone approaches you, getting a close up of your makeup and wondering if you truly did do it yourself. And after you've answered their questions, you're surprised when Creeper asks if he can take a picture with you.

"Yeah. Of course."

You oblige him, standing just to the side of him as he takes a seat on a chair. With one hand on his shoulder, you glance off to the side as he stares the camera head on. Then for the second picture, you're staring straight at the camera so they can capture how wicked your eyes look.

"What about me, querida? Do I get a picture too?" Angel asks.

"Oh! I have the perfect idea," Juice says. Then looking at Angel, he says, "Sit up."

You can only shake your head in amusement, stepping closer to Juice as Angel hands his phone to the Puerto Rican. Juice proceeds to have Angel sit sideways on his bike, feet planted on the ground so his knees are parted. Then you're instructed to stand between Angel's knees as one of his hands grips onto his handlebar and the other gently holds onto the back of your thigh. Your breath lightly hitches, but it's still obvious to Angel as he smirks up at you.

"Shut it," you mumble.

Juice then instructs you to lightly cradle the side of Angel's face in your hand, your gold-tipped fingers sticking out against his dark facial hair. You hear many catcalls and swallow down a laugh, finally snorting when you hear Opie grumble, "Goddammit. She wore makeup on purpose so we couldn't see her blush."

Juice snaps a couple pictures of you and Angel staring into each other's eyes, and then he moves to stand behind Angel's back. Now both of Angel's hands are on the back of your thighs and you're looking up over his head, staring directly at Juice as EZ fixes his brother's kutte upon Juice's suggestion. He has you looking at the camera head on then, and he snaps a few more pictures.

"Thank you, mi reina," Angel murmurs when you're finally allowed to step back.

You quietly groan and tug on the hair at his chin. "Shut it. I actually know what that one means."

He chuckles darkly and lets you walk away to collect yourself. Then as you make sure the tables are all set and those who are going to help you pass out the goodies are ready, Angel and Juice huddle together so Juice can edit the pictures on Angel's phone with settings that the Mexican didn't even know his phone had.

The trick-or-treating starts before the sun even sets.

Parents used to be hesitant to let their children into the decorated parking lot for Halloween, but you did the most to change everyone's opinion about the MC. Not everyone approved of the tactics the Sons used to keep their streets clean and children safe, but the locals were less hostile towards the Sons now and even uttered a greeting to them when seen out in public.

The Mayans sit off to the side with the Sons who haven't been tasked by YN to hand out goodies, sipping on their beers and eating food that someone had grilled.

"Man, the people of Santo Padre are nothing like this," EZ says, gesturing to the people who are laughing and taking pictures. "They either hate us or are terrified of us. None of them would greet us with smiles like this."

"It wasn't always like this," Jax says. "They used to tolerate us- greeting us to be polite but then scurrying away."

"What changed?" Bishop wonders.

"YN." Opie grins as he watches the woman he sees as a sister. "As soon as Clay and Gemma kicked the bucket, YN fought tooth and nail to turn shit around for us."

The Mayans all glance at Jax at the casual way Opie mentioned his mother and Clay's passing, and the blonde shrugs with a chuckle. "It's no secret YN was dying to get out of Charming because of Gemma and the trouble Clay landed us in, but with them out of the picture she decided to settle down and help clear the club's name."

Angel glances at YN, watching as the kids happily greet her while some even high five her in greeting. He only has eyes for the skeletal queen that Tig's chortle startles him out of his staring. "Oh shit, boys. Ima incoming."

Everyone glances in the direction Tig is looking, but only Creeper sits a little straighter at the blonde bombshell sauntering her way towards them in a sexy nurse outfit.

"She might be hot, gentlemen, but she's not worth the trouble," Jax says. He leans back in his seat, arching an eyebrow as the woman in question nears. "What are 'ya doing here, Ima?"

"It's a party, Mr. President," she muses. "Isn't it an open invitation?"

"It is, but you also know it's YN's favorite holiday and you take sick pleasure in pissing my sister off."

The tightening of her smile is obvious, but no one says anything. "I promise to be on my best behavior," she says. "And besides, we have guests." Her eyes practically sparkle as she looks at each and every Mexican. "What kind of person would I be if I didn't show them a good time?"

Opie snorts, not bothering to cover it up or explain himself as Ima glares at him.

"We're good, mujer," Bishop says.

"Speak for yourself," Creeper mutters.

Ima hears him and practically perks up, sauntering towards him and placing herself in his lap. Everyone chuckles, shaking their head, but they figure this is a mistake Creeper needs to make and learn from for himself.

"Well while you're diddling the Sons' sloppy seconds, I'm gonna go check on mi reina," Angel muses as he stands.

Jax chuckles. "I got twenty bucks that says you can't drag my sister away from candy duty."

"You're on, vato."

"YN?" Ima petulantly pouts. "If you're looking for a good time, I'm loads better."

Creeper quietly groans as EZ starts to laugh. "So close." He pushes Ima off his lap and the blonde scoffs before stomping off when she realizes the group of men are not going to cater to her hurt feelings. "Are all the females like her?"

"Nah. Most of them are pretty decent," Jax says. "They're just being on their best behavior right now because kids are coming and going, and they know my sister will kick their ass if they step one toe out of line."

Everyone watches as Angel takes his leave, startling YN as he comes up behind her and wraps his arms around her waist while laying his chin on her shoulder.

"Are you really okay with that?" Bishop asks, gesturing to his secretary and Jax's younger sister. "If that's gonna be an issue, I'll warn him off."

"It's fine." Jax waves him off. "Let them have their fun. But if he tries to take her back to Santo Padre, then we're gonna have issues."

Opie laughs as EZ's smile falters. "YN is the only one who properly knows how to run the garage. If she splits, we're fucked."

Creeper chuckles as he keeps an eye out for a female to keep him company later on. "Don't say that, man. Bishop will encourage Angel to bring the girl home if it means she can get the office at the scrap yard in order."

Bishop salutes him with his beer bottle. "Chucky's a big help, but Lord knows we need someone else in there."

As the Mayans and Sons laugh over shared stories of Chucky and how he's faring down in Santo Padre now, Ima glares at the interactions from the opened doorway to the clubhouse. The hottest Mayan of the group chats up YN Teller and the other patched member she had sat on the lap of catches the attention of another passing sweetbutt. So far her night was not going well and she was not happy about it at all.

. .

. .

Once the trick-or-treating is over for the night, you head into the bathroom to remove the golden decals from your face, leaving them only on your neck and collar bones, and then retouch your Halloween makeup. You even lose the crown before grabbing a beer and then head over to the group of men you felt at ease with.

As you're walking towards an empty seat, Angel surprises you by grabbing you by the wrist to tug you down onto his lap. Your eyes widen, though it's tough to tell with the way you're all painted up, but Opie still snorts his amusement. "Goddammit. The makeup is still covering the blush."

Hearing his words, you glance over at your best friend and flip him off as you let yourself relax in Angel's embrace. By the way he's holding your waist, he has no intentions of letting you up. So turning on his lap and snuggling down so you can rest your head on his shoulder, you ask, "Am I here because you want me here or because the sweetbutts are circling?"

"Because I want you here." You take a sip of your beer, grinning. "And because your arch nemesis keeps making the rounds, waiting for a green light from one of us."

"Of course she is." Your eyes roll as you look for the blonde in question. "She's angling for the title of old lady, no matter the charter. Whatever puts her in a higher rank than me, she'll take it and then use her position to order me around."

"What's her deal?"

"She used to fuck my brother in hopes of him giving her his crow, but then Tara came into the picture and stole his attention. When she wouldn't let up, I kicked her ass." You lift your head to take another sip of your beer, smirking when Angel groans at the thought of you being violent. "Then she honed in on Opie after his wife died and I shut that shit down. He got together with Lyla soon after and Ima tried coming in between them, so I kicked her ass again."

"You like throwin' hands, don't you?"

"If I need to, then yeah. I'm very protective of those I consider mine," you tell him. "So, if you need someone's ass beat down in Santo Padre, you know where to find me."

Angel chuckles as the hand resting on your thigh squeezes. "I'm yours, huh?"

"Mhm," you hum.

Your lips twitch as you hold his stare, your gaze briefly glancing at his lips as you subconsciously lean towards him. All the noise surrounding you seems to fall away, but before anything interesting can happen, a hand is landing on your shoulder.

"Goddammit, Tig! I was just about to win the bet," Juice complains.

Jax, Opie, Happy, Chibs, Bishop, and EZ explode with laughter, and you narrow your eyes at all of them. "What bet?"

"How long it'd take for you and Angel to hook-up," your brother muses.

Angel chuckles beneath you and you roll your eyes, standing up. As you finish off your beer, Tig says, "Hey sweet face, I heard Ima spreading some rumors about you to anyone who'll listen."

From the corner of your eye, you see the blonde in question falter in her steps, but you pay her no mind. "I don't give a shit who talks behind my back. Bitch knew better than to let me hear." Tig laughs, his gaze darting between you and Ima, but she doesn't say anything in response. Sighing, you then glance around at all the men who were hoping for some drama. "Anyone need a beer?"

As the night progresses, Angel's lap becomes your personal seat. You've tried four different times to sit on a couch or chair, especially when a sweetbutt sidled up to him when you made a trip to the bar or bathroom, but he always caught you and dragged you back towards him as you tried to pass. No one said a word and the sweetbutts backed off when they realized you were interested in him, but you had to shake your head at your brother when you could see the amusement and approval in his eyes.

You ended up having only two beers before you switched to water since you still had to drive home, and Angel stopped after three. Everyone's talking and laughing, and it makes your heart happy to see both MC's getting along.

By the third time you've yawned, Angel taps your thigh and urges you to stand up. "Come on, hermosa. Let's go."

"Go? Go where?"

"You need sleep."

Angel grabs your hand just as you catch Jax's gaze and at his arched eyebrow, you shake your head. You will not be spending the night in the dorms.

But still you walk hand-in-hand with Angel, letting him lead the way down a familiar hallway and towards a dorm that Jax most likely assigned him. Just as he moves to grab the key from his pocket, you place a hand on his arm to stop him. "As much as I wanna spend the night with you, I need to go home." Angel glances at you in surprise, mouth opening to reply, but you push on. "There's no way in hell I'm sleeping with all this makeup on," you say while gesturing to your face and upper body. "And I need my contact case for the lenses. I actually really like these."

Angel sighs, realizing you have a point. He gives up on the hunt for his room key, turning so his back is to the wall and he's holding onto both of your hands loosely in front of him. "Too bad, querida. We roll out as soon as we wake up tomorrow."

A moment of silence lingers between the two of you before your lips twitch. "Well.. you could always come back to mine." You step closer, dropping one of his hands so your hand can cradle the side of his neck before sliding back and scraping the back of his neck with your nails. His eyelids flutter as he quietly groans and you smirk. "Bed's big enough for more than one person."

"Is that right?" Angel gulps.

"Yep." You pull on his neck so he lowers his face towards you, but stop him when he's close enough for your lips to brush his. "Think of all the uninterrupted fun we could have." He tries to capture your lips, but you pull back just out of reach. "I would kiss 'ya, but I'm not about to smear my makeup all around your mouth and let those idiots out front know exactly what's going on."

His resolve seems to harden right before your eyes. "House. Now."

As soon as Angel straightens up, his grip tightens on your one hand and he practically drags you out of the hallway. You can't help but laugh at his eagerness, your laughter growing louder at the whoops and hollers you hear from both the Sons and Mayans as they watch him drag you away. Suddenly, you're very grateful for your skeletal makeup because you can feel your face and ears burning.

As you near the exit to the clubhouse, you can't help but smirk as you flip off Ima who's watching you and Angel with a frown.

Happy Halloween indeed.

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

sons of anarchy fans!! i have decided!!

as well as writing for jax, i'll now also write for juice, chibs, and opie.

if you have any thoughts (filthy or otherwise... the filthier the better... ;)) please send them my way... <3

this old man makes me feral. i won't apologise ✋🏻

edit - read my first chibs fic here.

[minnow-doodle-doo]

The sun shines on you.