#tig post

[peacock-patrol]

Grayson and Savannah may think that they're tough shit but no one knows control like Rohan. Poor boy runs himself like a machine.

He is INSANE (i'm in love with him)

[miseria-fortes-viros]

i think its so funny that relationship milestones are only shared and acknowledged when the relationship in question is romantic. like if me and my bestie start dating we gotta tell everybody and their mama but nobody ever wants to hear about how over the course of several months me and my friends from the internet have co-authored beautiful erotica together sometimes beginning as early in the day as 7am EST

[imsothoroughlymodern]

When you get caught playing with your own tits watching Bob’s Burgers

[short-honey-badger]

Soft spot in a black heart

Pairing: Tig Trager x Female Reader

Summary: Agent Stahl blackmails you and Tig into doing her dirty work and well, things get dirty after the job goes sideways.

Tags: Viginal sex, dirty talk, cunnilingus, pussy drunk Tig, Tig is his warning, possessive behavior, minor character death, and guns. SoA elements.

The two of you stare at Agent Stahl, twin looks of disbelief painting your faces. There was no way that this self-righteous cunt was blackmailing you and Tig into doing her dirty work, but here she was, staring at the both of you with that smug look on her face. She cocks her head to the side and sits back in the booth, pushing forward the manilla folder to your side of the table.

“It’s either this, or both of you face jail time. Actually, most likely the death penalty for all the shit you’ve pulled over the years,” Stahl drawls, and you want to slap the smarmy look right off her damn face.

You see Tig gritting his teeth beside you, his eyes narrowing and knuckles turning white where he grips his dark jeans. He looks seconds away from throwing himself over the table, so you reach out and grip his thigh, ignoring the way he instantly stills under your touch.

You understand his rage, you are just as pissed off. It doesn’t help that the two of you have never gotten on since you joined SAMCRO. The men you now called family weren’t too keen on having a woman out doing the dirty work, but Clay allowed you to stay, so all they could really do was bitch about it.

“We’ll do it,” you hiss lowly and snatch the folder with your free hand, pushing it inside your leather jacket, “But this makes us even.”

Stahl smirks, satisfied, and crosses her arms over her chest, “Good. Glad to see that someone in that little club of yours has some sense.”

You sneer, eyes narrowing, and slide out of the booth, flipping her the bird in response as you lope out of the cafe you and Tig had met her in.

Tig crowds you against his bike the moment the two of you are outside, lips pulled up in a snarl and eyes blazing with fury. His hands land on his seat, bracketing you in as he looms over your smaller form. You stare right back, trying your damnedest not to be intimidated by the dangerous man.

“Don’t you ever speak for me again, _. You’re at the bottom of this food chain, don’t forget that,” Tig snarls down at you, and you grit your teeth, hands coming up and shoving at his chest. Surprisingly, he allows you to push him away from you.

“You would’ve gotten us locked up and killed Tig. I did us a favor,” you hiss and shove past the sergeant-at-arms. You can feel his eyes on you as you sling a leg over the seat of your bike, then slide your helmet over your head, glaring at him from behind the visor, “I’ll see you at the clubhouse.”

Tig snarls wordlessly and kicks the road. He’s pissed that they were being blackmailed, but he was more furious over the fact that you had been roped into this. He’d be stuck with a woman when this was a man’s world that you lived in. It was bad enough that Stahl had shit on them, but working with you was the last straw.

It wasn’t like Tig hated you, far from it in reality. He actually found you incredibly fucking hot, and his cock still hadn’t gone down from where you’d grabbed his thigh in the diner. There was a soft spot for you deep in his black heart, and Tig didn’t want to see you hurt. Not when he knew that everyone got hurt in this line of business.

Tig would much rather see you dressed in skimpy clothes, waiting for him back at the clubhouse, that infuriating smirk on your face, and a beer in hand. He’d never had an old lady before, had never wanted one, but you? Damn it all, Tig Trager wanted you to be his.

He huffs at himself and slides onto his bike. There was no point in dreaming when you didn’t want anything to do with a man like him. Tig shoves those thoughts away and kicks off in the direction of the clubhouse. Clay would be waiting for him.

-----

Two days later found you and Tig cruising down the highway, the sun shining and heating the blacktop. Any other day and it would be a nice day to go for a ride, but the knowledge of being under Stahl's thumb made you a cranky bastard. It didn't help that Tig had literally dragged you out of bed this morning.

The sergeant of arms had burst into your room like he owned the place, ripping the blanket off you and sending you sprawling to the floor in all your naked glory. Your being nude must have caught Tig off guard because you'd gotten a jacket thrown in your face and got to witness a blush spread across his face as he demanded that you hurry up and get ready. You'd blinked at him, confused why your being nude had affected Tig so much before, ultimately shrugging and taking your time in getting ready.

Afterwards, you'd tried to give him back his leathers, you had your own after all, but he ignored you each time, so you'd shrugged and just kept it slung around your shoulders. It was honestly comfy, all warm and cozy-like.

Tig watches you from behind, brain replaying this morning over and over again. He'd seen thousands of naked women over the years, but seeing you had sent him spiraling. You were tan under the many layers you insisted on wearing, your body covered in scars and burn marks from the rough life that you'd lived before finding a home with SAMCRO. It made something dark and dangerous rear its head when he'd seen the marks, and if Tig didn't already know that the people who made those marks weren't already dead. Well, he would have hunted them down himself.

But seeing you in his leathers soothed that dark beast inside of him. It looked right, felt right, to see you wearing his jacket laid across your shoulders. It made it look like you belonged to him, and anyone with eyes would see that, too.

He couldn't help but wonder what you would look like all splayed out on his bed, tan skin on display and ripe for the taking. Tig wanted to leave his own marks behind, show the guys who pined after you at the shop and during club meetings who you belonged to. Tig wanted to own you, mind and body. He shifts in his seat, rolling his eyes at the hard-on straining in his pants. You had him acting like a teen.

A couple of hours later, the two of you are pulling off an exit and to the only gas station for the next hundred miles. You pull off your helmet and shake your hair from your face with a grimace, crinkling your nose when you run your hand through your helmet hair. You never did like wearing it for so long for that exact reason. Tig pulls up beside you and kicks the stand out, sliding off his bike to shadow you inside once you are ready.

Tig glares with a curl of his lips when he catches the grocer leering at you and closes the distance to cover you from view. They were in unfamiliar territory, and he wasn’t about to risk anything, especially you.

“Hydrate yourself,” you say after snagging a water bottle from the cooler. You toss it at Tig, and he catches it with a roll of his eyes.

“Yes, dear,” he draws and pauses when he notices the way your cheeks flush and how quickly you look away from him. Curious, Tig closes the distance, close enough that he can feel the heat you put off.

“What else you gettin’, sweetheart?”

You flush further, eyes going wide, and your body warming at the use of the pet names. Plenty of the men you lived around had called you all sorts of terms of endearment, but hearing it from Tig makes your stomach cramp and your thighs press tightly with arousal. You force the feelings away with a deep breath and settle on a nonchalant shrug.

“Whatever catches my eye, I guess, Tig.”

Even though the sergeant at arms could get on your nerves more easily than others, you could still be civil with the man. It wasn’t that you disliked him, either, but his erratic behavior threw you off more often than not.

You don’t see the way he bites his bottom lip, his eyes going half-lidded as he follows you through the aisles of the store. He grabs a few snacks of his own, easy things that would be able to be eaten on the road, and another couple that he sees you consider before passing over. When you seem to be done, Tig follows you to the counter where the two of you dump your goods to be scanned.

“Pretty thing like you ought not be hanging around with a guy like him, eh, girly?”

You snap your eyes up, narrowing them in disgust, but Tig speaks up before you can.

If looks could kill, the grocer would be a pile of ash on the floor. Tig steps close to you, his front pressing against your back as he raises a hand to settle it along your waist, fingers curling in a possessive hold without thinking.

“How about you mind your own fuckin’ business, Mitch?” Tig rumbles, eyes flashing down to the name tag that the other man wears.

You tense at the unexpected touch before forcing yourself to relax, making a show of leaning into Tig and allowing him to take your weight. You cock your head, giving Mtch an innocent smile.

“You should listen to him, Mitch. I’ve seen him kill men for less,” you murmur sweetly. Mitch flicks his eyes between the two of you before he sneers with a scoff and begins to scan your items. Conflict diverted, and you go to move away from Tig, only to find that your partner is keeping you still, his grip turning harsh but not painful. He doesn’t bother to let you go until it’s time to pay, and you watch with a tight chest as he tosses enough cash on the counter to cover everything and gas for both of your bikes.

“I can stand up for myself, ya know,” you comment once the two of you are outside. You grab the plastic bag from Tig and sort through it, grabbing your stuff to be packed away into the saddlebags that hang from your bike. Tig shrugs and uncaps the bottle of water you’d tossed at him earlier, draining it in one go before tossing it into the closest bin.

“Sure you can, baby girl,” He draws and watches blatantly, wanting to see that cute blush from earlier, and you don’t disappoint.

“What’s with all the pet names all of a sudden, huh?” you ask, tone coming off a bit more snappy than you had intended. You knew Tig was a flirt, all the men in the M.C. were, but this deliberateness was new.

Tig cocks his head to the side, looking at you with those wild, blue eyes that make you squirm in place. He then nods at you, and you look down to see his jacket still seated snug around your shoulders, before cutting your eyes back up to see him giving you a smug, shit-eating grin.

“Makes it look like you're my ol’ lady, don’t it, sweetheart?”

You frown, reaching up to pull his jacket off, not caring for what he is trying to insinuate, but Tig is moving before you can even get it off one shoulder. A big hand grabs your own, where you have a hold of the lapels. The hold he has on you isn’t painful, but it’s tight enough for you to really give notice.

“Keep it on,” Tig murmurs and pushes his jacket back up, warm hands smoothing over your shoulders with a surprising gentleness, “Please.”

You meet his eyes, searching them and finding a franticness that usually isn’t present, that makes you soften. You nod once, face feeling like a pit of lava.

“Okay, Tig.”

Trager feels himself relaxed, shoulders slumping, and that bolt of panic receding like it had never been there in the first place. He grins down at you, wide and wolf-like. Following his instincts, he dips his head and presses a kiss to your brow before pulling away, that grin still bright as ever, “Thanks, sweetheart.”

Before you can question the sergeant at arms, Tig leaves you, sliding away to toss his leg over his bike and start it up with a loud rumble like he hadn’t just rocked your entire foundation. You watch him press his helmet down and slide his sunglasses over his face. He turns and looks at you, head cocking to the side.

“You comin’ or what, baby?”

-------

“Fucking Stahl!” you snarl and duck behind the counter, “Last time we ever fo shit for that smarmy cunt.”

This "errand" of hers had gone to shit within the first couple of minutes, and you couldn’t help but think that you and Tig were set up. All that you'd been tasked with was to grab a witness who had been taken by a gang on the outskirts of Arizona. SAMCRO didn't have any dealings with them, so apparently, to Stahl, they'd been the perfect candidates for the job. You knew that the agent wanted SAMCRO to go down, but you didn't think she wanted you guys dead. Not like this, at least.

"I knew this was a bad fuckin' idea, baby. Should have let me call the shots," Tig grouches and grabs you by the back of his cut, yanking you away from the shitty cover.

You fall into him, scrambling to righten yourself and pop up to fire your sidearm out the open window, grinning with feral glee when you hear a scream of pain on the other side. Tig wants to kiss the life out of you at the sight of your bloodlust, his cock hard and aching in his jeans. You had no idea how fucking amazing you looked right now, hair all akimbo and teeth bared like the animal Tig knew you were.

You might be a woman, but you'd proven time and time again that you could hold your own just as well as any man.

“And get dragged to prison where I'd never see any of you guys again? Hell no,” you snap back and duck back against Tig when there is returning gunfire.

“Whole fucking thing is a bust anyway. They killed the hostage before we even got here.”

The two of you had found one Ethan Wilson, a former ATF agent, dead and gone the moment Tig had kicked down the door to the supposed safe house. The former agent looked like he'd been dead for at least a day, with how bloated his body looked. Hell had broken loose moments after.

The gang that Stahl had sent the two of you after had descended on the safe house like a flock of vultures, at least seven of them and armed to the teeth. You counted yourself lucky that Tig never went anywhere without the proper equipment.

The two of you trade shots, thankfully having the advantage of better cover inside the house. The shootout feels like it lasts a lifetime, but couldn't have been longer than a couple of minutes by the time the last gang member falls to the ground, dead. You are breathing heavily, chest heaving, and gun smoking from where it dangles from your fingers.

You turn to Tig, about to demand that they get the hell out of here, when the sergeant of arms crowds you against the counter, hands gripping your hips and lifting you with ease to sit on the counter. You grip his shoulders, eyes going wide when he takes your legs and wraps them around his waist.

Tig can't help himself. He's been good, giving you ample time to turn him away, but never once have you told him to stop. You liked him, wanted him, and Trager knew it. He raises a hand, gripping you by the jaw before he leans in and seals his lips against your own in a searing kiss. His tongue darts out, forcing past your lips to curl around your own slick muscle.

Adrenaline running high, you kiss him back, fingers sliding up into curly hair to grip tightly and push him into you. His facial hair scrapes and burns against your lips, but it just makes the embrace that much sweeter. You don't care that the two of you still stink of road sweat and gunpowder; you don't care about the cooling bodies outside the safe house. All you want now is for Tig Trager to fuck you dumb.

Tig pulls away, pressing his face against yours, breath hot against your cheek. His hands slide to your waist and to the button of your pants, flicking it open with practiced ease and lifting you up enough that he can shove your jeans down around your thighs.

“Been wanting to taste that sweet pussy for ages, baby,” Tig snarls against your throat and presses sharp nips against your flesh, leaving behind little red marks that would most likely fade into bruises. He pulls back just long enough to tug your boots off and rip your jeans from your legs, tossing them to the floor without a care. He drops to his knees, spreading your thighs and burying his face in the apex of your legs.

Your cunt tastes just as delicious as Tig imagined it would, musky and hot from the ride and dripping with arousal. He slurps between your folds, catching your clit between his lips and sucking hard enough that you bow forward, brow furrowed and hands clenching painfully in his hair. Tig groans and pushes himself deeper, tongue digging deep and cream coating the lower half of his face.

You hiss through clenched teeth, whines spilling from your throat. Tig is good at eating puss, you'd know that already from walking into the club house after a wild party and finding him face deep into a club girl's cunt. It had never bothered you before, but after this? Tig was yours.

“Tig, Tiggy,” you groan, and he answers you with a loud moan of his own, lost in his own world and bringing you closer and closer to that lovely edge. Your thighs quake, eyes glassy as you twitch under him.

Tig grins against your cunt when you come, creamy slick pouring from your pussy to drench his face. He sucks down and devours every bit, tongue scooping like a fucking dog. He leans back once he is satisfied, a fucked out and drunk look on his face as he meets your wide eyes.

You look back up, meeting those fiery blue eyes with a wicked smirk, “Gonna fuck me or not, Tiggy?”

“Best fucking pussy I've ever had, sweetheart,” he murmurs and pushes himself back up to his feet, hands dropping to his belt and tugging it free. You watch his cock spring free from his boxers, and excitement shoots up your spine. Tig was big.

Tig laughs, low and mean, and shoves between your legs, one hand gripping your hip and the other holding his cock steady. He keeps eye contact, wanting to watch you break as he bullies his cock into you. Your expressions are almost enough to make him come, your pussy is tight as a vice, sucking him down and making him grit his teeth.

“Feel fucking amazing, baby,” Tig murmurs and cups your face with a surprising softness when he is fully seated inside of you. Your cunt burns in the most delightful way, the stretch of his cock exactly what you need. He leans down, pressing his lips against your own as he begins to rock back and forth, slipping that much deeper into your pussy.

You kiss him back, losing yourself in the feel of Tig. The man, his scent, his touch, surrounds you, and you feel drunk off his presence alone. You want to take your time, to feel the way his cock drags along your walls, the head pressing deeper than anyone has ever been. But you know that time is of the essence. It wouldn't be long before the law would show up from the gunshots.

“Fuck me fast, baby. Come inside me, yeah?”

Tig hisses a curse, brows furrowing as he nods and presses close, hips pistoning in and out, balls slapping against your dripping cunt, and fluid mixing in a hot mess between your bodies. He focuses on the feel of how tight and hot you are, hands dropping to grip your hips and pound into you like a freight train.

You whine at the feel of hot cum pouring into you, cunt fluttering and clenching tight around the thick cock buried deep inside of you. You pant against his shoulder, taking in deep, shuddering breaths and raising a hand to push your sweaty bangs away from your brow. Tig slumps against you, wanting to stay exactly where he is for the rest of his life.

As much as you’d like to bask, the need to get out of the safe house and back down the road is pressing. You lift your head, a soft smirk on your lips, and you tilt your head to the side, meeting Tig's eyes.

“Round two when we get back?”

[lyrakanefanatic]

If tig/tgg characters had twitter part: 30

[ssjumi]

doodled/drew some internet cats (again) 🐱🐾

[taylorswiftfostersitagain]

me and my comfort book series (people get murdered)

[infernal666combustion]

1000 posts!

"Maid in Heaven"

[peacock-patrol]

TIG Universe Timeline

This is a very! imperfect visualization but I have been waiting for someone to make one.

Although we rarely get dates mentioned, you'd be surprised how carefully structured the timeline still manages to be.

I used every ambiguous "next day" to approximate the time. Key word is approximate. I was quite generous with GG because the game isn't over but we know it will last "a few days". I was the most confused with the second half of the second book because everything after the -boom- is a total blur.

The quotes:

Book 1 The Inheritance Games

■ “The letters that my grandfather’s attorneys have been sending to your residence for the better part of three weeks.”

"My grandfather passed away earlier this month.” [so, in Octomber. Avery finally arrives at the will reading first week of November]

■ "[Jameson] wasn’t wearing a shirt. Always a good decision in the middle of winter."

■ “You’ll be attending a pink ribbon fund raiser this Saturday night and a game next Sunday"

“A game?” I repeated.

“NFL,” she said curtly. “You own the team."

Book 2 (could possibly stretch into January)

■ "Would I be correct in assuming you’ve forgotten about the game?”

[...]

“The game,” I repeated again, comprehension dawning. “As in, an NFL game. Because I own a football team.”

■ "I couldn’t tip my hand that the reason we were here had nothing to do with wanting a winter getaway."

Book 3 Final Gambit

■ "We need to talk about your eighteenth birthday.”

"My birthday was October eighteenth. I would hit the year mark the first week in November and instantly become the richest teenager on the planet. Until then, I had other things to focus on."

Book 4 Brothers Hawthrone

■ “You’ve filed at least three patents since school let out for the summer last month, Xan.”

Book 5 Grandest Game

■ "Your dad thinks the first week in November is too early for Christmas decorations."

■ "There were no remnants of furniture or belongings—just the leaves, the first few to turn color and fall in an unusually warm autumn."

■ [Proprietor —] "by December 31th of next year, I will pass the crown"

Games Untold (only Prague)

■ "GPS tracking had to be enabled. The person seeking had an hour. In the past six months, Jameson and I had played [...]"

■ "Jameson’s gap year was three-quarters done. Day by day, I could feel him growing more restless in his own skin."

[shattered-twilight]

I did a thing

[jameson-hawthorne]

ok so update on all the rp spots!!

so far the taken ones are

jameson (me lol) gray ( @therealgraysonhawthorne ), lyra ( @lyradancerkane ), gigi ( @omg1g1 ), knox ( @knoxlandry ), brady ( @its-bradydaniels ), alisa ( @alisa-ortega ), savannah ( @savannah-graysonx ), nan ( @nan-hawthorne ), rohan ( @rohan-his-lordships-successor ), max ( @ur-fav-motherfaxing-girl ), nash ( @the-eldest-yehawthorne ), skye ( @theskyehawthorne ) , xander ( @i-love-scones )

ones currently being made:

eve, libby, avery, thea

available spots:

, rebecca, mattias, zara, odette, oren and any other characters i missed!!

IF I MISSED YOUR ACTIVE ACCOUNT LET ME KNOW!!!!

[holidaygirl1224]

💬New Post from holidaygirl1224

A few weeks ago I found a bunch of my old stuffed animals, and since then they've all taken over my bed... there's barely any room for me on it, it's great XD Last night I was staring at them and got to wondering... where did you all come from to begin with? "The toy store" I'm sure they'd all reply, but I mean in terms of WHO made them XP A lot of the plushies are pretty generic animals and have lost their tags, so there's not really any way of knowing. Thankfully, one plush still has its tag, and he just happens to be one of my most important plushies XP I think he might just be my first ever plushie, I've had him for as long as I can remember. He's a tiger plushie that I lovingly named... Tiger Tig. VERY creative, I know... and to be clear, "Tig" is pronounced like tiger, not twig X) Over the years he's lost a lot of color... and whiskers... but he's still as cuddly as ever. He's so old that he even had a son at one point! A much smaller tiger plush I got a few years later that I named Tiger Tyke (that's a little more creative, huh? XP) Looking at his tags, he's one of those beanie plushies that were all the rage back in the day... though he's much bigger than the bears. I went online to see if I could find what he originally looked like, and... oh my gosh LOL I knew he had aged, but GOODNESS you'd think it was a different plush entirely! How years of just laying in my bed transformed him so much, I will never know XD Despite his orange not shining as bright, or his fur being as silky as it once was, I love him as much as I did back then. I've lost so many plushies over the years... to floods, to time... I'm really glad he's stayed with me through all of these years. If you still got any of your old stuffies, give them a big squeeze sometime... I'm sure they'd appreciate the love.

[altgirltodestroytheworld]

About me~

Okay, I am so bad at writing these things. Don’t bully me about it I’ll cum cry.

Age: 28

Sexuality: Bisexual/Demisexual

Relationship status: I have a boyfriend so this blog is more of a collection to goon look at later. I’m open to asks, feel free to reach out but dms for now are not open. I need to build a friendship first

Why I am here: I went from a vanilla missionary girl to an ass eating freak after exploring myself on tumblr. I want to keep exploring and compiling things here that I like. A lot of sapphic post as a bi girl in a het relationship. I’m also here to make friends with more wlw women. I want to be apart of the sapphic community.

Likes: butch4femme, femme4femme, ass eating, public play, cuckholding, big tits (I’m a tit girly), nursing play, costumes, musk/smell kink, soaked panties, squirting, and I’m sure like so much more after making this blog.

Dislikes: watersports, anything with baby talk, no toilet play at all, inc3st, ag3 play, pet play, r4p3 play, and anything violent are nos for me.

Others: I love to be a princess. I love pink and pigtails, and never filling my own water glass. I want my partner to be obsessed with me. I am also a switch so I can get dirty in the black leather catsuit as well. I am a big girl. I love all my curves and rolls and I don’t care if you don’t. Just as much as I love big titties I also have big ones myself so suck it fatphobes.

Afterword: if you read all of this I love you. You already have one friendship point ;p.

[faunandfloraas]

She got her present early 😇

[warningsine]

The way the people behind the show understand that this is peak Adam Scott

and not this:

[rosietrace]

Until TGG comes out with a reason for why Ave and the gang chose Hawthorne island for the location (y'know the same island where a house exploded, two nepo babies died, all the blame was put on Hannah's sister, and it's the very thing that's been haunting Toby ever since)

I'm gonna start calling it, “Alisa Ortega's biggest PR nightmare”

Real footage of Alisa finding out where the second TGG will be