#tig trager one shot

[thisreadswhatever]

The Chase: Part One

Pretty Sweet

series masterlist

[description]: jax teller x female reader

[wordcount]: 2.7k+

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

“So, how’s your mom?” 

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

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

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

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

“Sounds great, Dad.” 

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s really sweet, Bobby. Thanks.” 

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

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

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

“That’s Jax. Club’s VP.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I usually just go by y/n.”

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

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

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

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

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

Jax hesitated. “A work in progress.” 

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

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

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

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

“I can take you back.” 

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

“So?” He shrugged. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

back to masterlist

[ravennaortiz]

Ravennas Randoms Tig #1

"If it isnt my favorite body snatcher" called Tig as he spotted Jax's younger sister behind the bar at the clubhouse. The younger Teller rolled her eyes at him. He was always giving her a hard time for choosing to work in a morgue.

"Think you could get me a cold one?" he asked as he took a seat on one of the stools. "What kind?" asked the younger Teller. "Like freshly cold, luke warm, multi colored, bedazzled? Oh! I know how about I get you one that has some little maggots in it, i bet a freak like you would love the feel of that." continued the girl as she locked eyes with him. Hoping this time he would get her point to stop asking for body parts.

Tig sat in stunned silence for a few moments. "I meant a beer hun, not a deceased pussy" he stated trying not to laugh.

"Oh....of course....my bad" stated the girl as she grabbed a beer from the fridge and handed it to him.

[lostgirlfandom]

Sons of Anarchy/Mayans MC Masterlist

Old Masterlist

Jax Teller

Tig Trager

Opie Winston

Chibs Telford

Juice Ortiz

Happy Lowman

Ezekiel

Angel

Coco

Bishop

Hank "Tranq"

Marcus Alvarez

Gilly

Creeper

[prestontrice]

Hello Hello! I’m new around these parts. I may start to write some things soon. If i do, at the moment it will be SOA only. So if any one has any requests or ideas. Feel free to message me.

[samcro-saint99]

Anyone still here that wants anything written?

[callmemana]

Sons of Anarchy Fanfic Recs:

Chibs Telford:

Jax Teller:

Juice Ortiz:

Opie Winston:

Tig Tager:

[drakoneve]

Long Run

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

pairing: Tig Trager x gn!reader

word count: 600+

warnings: mention of a cartel? typical club shit

a/n: I LOVVVEEEEE this man <333

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

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

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

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

This run is different, however.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[filipfuckingtelford]

You can't touch it

Y/N comes to TM for the first time and guys get excited about it.

Chibs x Reader one shot drabble.

----

It was another party at the clubhouse. Sons were drinking and playing pool, laughing and mocking each others as usual. Croweaters hanging around in desperate attempt of catching the attention of one of the club members.

The door opened and a girl came in. Slim and delicate she was wearing high heels and small black dress, her long dark hair free and wild. Bright green eyes were searching the room from under her long eyelashes. She obviously didn't see whoever she was looking for and bit her lip confused. But the next moment she just shrugged and made her way towards the bar counter.

Party seemed to be paused as guys were now all watching this gorgeous stranger trying to guess who she was looking for here. Meanwhile Y/N landed on the bar stool so Juice who was now behind the bar was the first one to talk to her.

"What can I do for you, pretty?" He smiled wide eyeing her face and body shamelessly.

"Scotch please. Double" Y/N smiled back at him but this was just the polite smile not the flirty one.

"What an angel we have fallen from heaven to our place!" Tig exclaimed approaching her. Then looked at Juice and smirked "Watch and learn, kid"

"Um... Hello" Y/N looked at him confused with this cheesy way to hit on her.

"Let me introduce myself, I'm Tig and you may no longer worry, I won't let anything bad happen to you in this place" Trager continued.

"I wasn't worried before you came up" Y/N blew him off with a small roguish smile.

"Ouch" Juice laughed and passed her the glass of scotch and asked "Would you mind dancing with me later?"

"She may not, but I definitely will" Harsh voice with thick Scottish accent could be heard from the door of the clubhouse.

Chibs made his way towards Y/N and rested his arm on her shoulders.

"Sorry for being late, lass. I hope those wild monkeys didn't bother you too much" He smirked gently and kissed her passionately.

"It was fun to watch them hitting on me but I'm glad you're finally here" Y/N laughed her arms wrapped around his waist.

"Never touch what's mine, brothers, it would end bad for ye" Chibs warned and pulled Y/N towards the couch.

[razrbladekiss]

Thirty-seven minutes | Tig Trager

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

WORD COUNT: 900 smth

PAIRING: tig trager x fem!reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You got along with it until you couldn’t. 

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

An explanation that never came. 

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

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

Tig was hot on your heels. 

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

“Baby—“

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

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

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

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

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

That wasn’t your thing, however. 

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

“Hey!” Tig yelled, pointing at you. 

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

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

Your heart was pounding. 

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

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

But you weren’t scared of him. 

Not anymore. 

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

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

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

He was so short tempered. But never with you. 

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

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

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

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

Until now. 

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

Fists clenched. 

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

He rolled his jaw. 

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

“You spend too much time with Tara—“

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

“Not a gang!”

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

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

He didn’t care. 

He couldn’t find a reason to care. 

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

Only temporarily, of course. 

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

[your-space-brain]

Friends

Filip “Chibs” Telford x Reader - One Shot

Gif does not belong to me.

Moved from @spacedbrainnn .

Little Clay.

That’s what they called you, Little Clay. You were the daughter of Teller and Morrow, Jax’s half sister who was untouchable. You were a princess, the pride and joy of Gemma and Clay, and everyone knew not to flirt with you, unless they planned to be intimidated.

And threatened.

That’s why you’d been talking to Chibs. Late night drinks here, a smile there, a wink thrown in the mix and you found yourself festering with feelings for the man twice your age.

But, you couldn’t care less.

You’d never talked about anything exclusive. There were never any lines drawn, anything. So when you saw him with a Crow Eater hanging around his hips, you couldn’t be jealous.

But, everyone else saw it plain as day.

“Oh come on, Clay Jr.” Tig was dancing on your last nerve while you were attempting to finish up an audit for the garage. You sat in Jax’s mechanic shirt while you wrote on a clipboard and typed on your calculator. “Give me one chance.”

“I’m not in the mood, Tiggy.”

“Why do you gotta give me such a hard time?”

“Because I’m a giver. It’s what I do.”

“But one chance. Let me take you out on the dance floor. We can even dance around the shop.”

“I’ve got two left feet.”

“Please—”

“Alexander Trager.” You spat the words colder than you intended and he feigned offense.

“What? Can’t stand to see Scottie have another woman—”

“What about Scottie?” The thick accent boomed throughout the garage as his boots preceded him. You looked up and tried not to show that your heart was pattering for him.

“Nothing. Just talking.” Tig smirked knowingly as he backed up and walked off, a toothpick in his lips as he exited. You looked down at your paper and tried to force yourself to get back to work.

“Lass? He givin’ ye a hard time?” His accent was undeniably bouncing around in your head while you tried to focus, unsuccessfully, due to his intense stare.

“No more than usual.” You replied to him as your pen marked against the paper, before you looked at the calculator.

“Ye sure?”

“I’m sure.” You didn’t give him that pretty smile you normally did. Hell, you didn’t even hardly look at him.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart?”

“Nothing.”

“Ye can’t lie ta me like that.”

“I’m not lying.”

It was becoming a war of who was more stubborn, who would outlast. He gave a sigh before you heard the flick of the lighter, then cigarette smoke filled the air and you felt the scent of tobacco wash over you.

“Ye can’t lie ta me.”

“I’m not lying, Chibs.”

That’s when he knew. He was always Filip to you. Always.

“Tell me what’s eatin’ that pretty li’l head up.”

Sighing, exasperated, you gave up. Dropping your pen down, you stared up at him as it clattered and rolled off the desk.

“What are we?”

“Whataya mean?”

“I mean, what the hell are we? You can’t tell me we’re just friends. You can’t tell me that we haven’t been shamelessly flirting, dancing around the idea that we’re not something. It doesn’t make any sense.”

Your eyes searched his dark ones as he sighed, before he took another drag of the cigarette.

“Lassie, ye’re…”

“Half your age. I know. I don’t care. What are we?”

“What do ye want us to be?”

“More than this. I want you to not have fucking women—”

You were cut off by his little smirk. “Is that what this is about? The women?”

“Shut up.”

His smirk widened before he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I’m yers, sweetheart. I’m yers.”

— end —

[davemybeloved]

Heyyyy welcome to my blog!

Hiii my name is Den(that’s not my real name, gotta keep my identity secret, I’m fucking Spiderman) and I don’t know what the fuck to say (she/her)

I’m Italian and I love metal, I’ve been playing guitar for 6 years and yes that’s it

REQUEST ARE OPEN!

———————————————————————

I will write for:

-Bands: metallica, megadeth, Guns N’ Roses, Motley Crue

-TV shows: sons of anarchy

———————————————————————————————————

What I will write:

Fluff, smut, angst, maybe a full story with different chapters, “taking inspo by the songs” ‘series’, sequels of one shots if you request them

———————————————————————

What I won’t write:

Kinks like furry or shit or those kind of craps. Abuse, violence. I will write kinks as long as they are not crazy ones. I won’t write headcanons (I have nothing against them, I like them, but I don’t know how to do them). I also won’t write male x male (again, nothings against it, it’s just that I’m a girl and I’m not comfortable nor “informed” enough to write it).

———————————————————————

-TV shows:

-sons of anarchy

-Series:

-WORRIES (Tig Trager x Otto’sDaughter!Reader)

-taking inspo by the song

-music:

-Bands master list

[ravennaortiz]

Can I make another one? With Tiggy 21 and 23. Thank you!!!!!

You may have as many as your heart desires! Lets see Tig with prompts 21: Like, what you see? and 23: You are more than a one nightstand. Alright as always 18+.

More to Me

"She looks mad" murmured Juice to Chibs as he caught sight of you entering the clubhouse with your medical supply bag. Chibs nodded as he finished putting in a local block into Tigs ass. He had suspected you were upset when he had called you. Normally bubbly you had been cold and distant.

"Tig is there any reason that the only doctor we know would be upset with you?" inquired Chibs as he leaned down to next to Tig. "Not that I can think of. I showed her the time of her life couple weeks before we went on this run" replied Tig right before you opened the door and stepped in.

The men nodded to you but you ignored them as you set your bag down and sat up what you would need. After putting gloves on you examined the wound on Tigs ass. "This is the last time I help. You guys need to find someone else to call when you get shot in the ass" you stated as you continued to examine the wound. Juice nodded as Chibs sighed sending a look to Tig.

"I got this" whispered Tig before lifting his butt and wiggling it. "Like what you see Dollface?" inquired Tig mischievously as he turned to face you. "Stop moving Trager. I get you think I'm a joke but this isn't" you stated through gritted teeth. You wanted nothing more than to be at home. "I was just joking babe. Whats wrong?" asked Tig the smile wiped off his face and replaced with concern.

"It's stupid" you mumbled as you looked away. "Please, just let me do this so I can go home" you added you face turned down to the floor. "Boys can you all step outside" stated Tig as he watched you curiously. "Talk to me" whispered Tig once the others had cleared out. You sighed before speaking your voice cracking as you fought back tears. "The other night meant more to me.... I thought it meant more to you too. Its obvious now I was wrong, just another notch in your belt" you replied as you moved back to the table to start closing the wound.

Tig closed his eyes giving himself a mental kick. How could he have been so stupid. He had taken that call from Clay and hit the road without any explanation. He left you sleeping soundly in that hotel room with the intention to call you. Things had gone wrong on the run and he hadn't had a chance until today.

Tig remained silent as you worked. He didn't want to distract you and he wanted to make sure he had the right words. Once you started cleaning up he moved himself to a siting position. "You are more than a one nightstand to me. I didn't mean to hurt you. I forgot you don't get exactly how the club works, because you make me forget about all that bull shit when I'm with you." stated Tig as he grabbed your arm gently holding his eyes on yours. "I should have been more clear that night. "I want you. I understand though if you don't feel the same now" finished Tig as he gave you a soft smile.

Want more Tig? Click here

Want to see how to make your own request? Click here

[alisbackalleybbq]

Puppy Love - Chapter 7

After having some major computer issues, I was finally able to sit down and write today!!

@northern-neighbor @chickensarentcheap @oscars-wifeyyy

A/N:  Buckle up, buttercups.  This one is going to be wild.

New FCs for this chapter: Jo Trager is Katey Sagal and Denver Trager is Kim Coates (Gemma and Tig together in my own way)

TW: violence

The knock on the door startled Charlotte who had been curled up on the couch reading a book.  

“I got it!”  Nathan yelled from the kitchen and barreled into the living room, flinging open the front door.

“It’s probably just Jonah.”  Charlotte muttered under her breath.

“Oh fuck,” Nathan whisper-shouted.

“Is that any way to speak to your mother?” Jo Trager snarked as she pushed her way past her son and entered the house.

“You don’t seem very excited to see us,” Denver Trager noted as he followed his wife.

“Mom? Dad?  What are you doing here?”  Charlotte asked, standing from the couch.

“Why the fuck did we have to hear that you got stabbed from Jeff?”  Jo demanded, hugging her daughter.

Charlotte winced.  “I was going to tell you.”

“Well, you didn’t.  I had to hear from him that you almost died.”  Jo released her daughter from the hug and hugged her son.

“It’s not that dramatic, Mom.”  Charlotte huffed.

“It was that dramatic, though.” Nathan released his mom.

“He also said you were having delusions and you had him arrested.”  Denver hugged his daughter gently, placing a kiss on her head.

“That wasn’t a delusion.  That actually happened, too.”  Nathan shrugged.  His mom slapped him on the back of the head.  “Wow, Mom!  What the fuck?”  He rubbed the sore spot.

“That’s for you not picking up the fucking phone and calling us yourself!”  Jo snapped.

“What was I supposed to say? ‘Hey, I know you love Jeff and all but he tried to kill Charlotte so maybe don’t love him anymore’?” Nathan huffed.

“That would be a fucking start.”  Jo growled.

“Nathan, why don’t you go make some coffee?  Let’s sit down and I’ll explain everything.”  Charlotte sighed.

“What are we doing here?” Jackson West asked his training officer as they pulled up to an unfamiliar house.  There had been no calls that had come over the radio.

“Friend texted me,” Doug Stanton said.  “His girlfriend hasn’t been answering her phone.  He asked me to do a welfare check.”   Doug put the shop in park and started to get out of the car.  The address was familiar to Jackson but he didn’t know why.  Doug stopped him at the walkway leading up the house.  “You can wait here.”

Jackson nodded curtly and watched his T.O. walk up to the door and knock.  He pulled his phone out so he could text Lucy about how it was bullshit that he was waiting on the sidewalk.  

“Can I help you?”  A man Jackson didn’t recognize answered the door.

“I’m looking for Charlotte Trager.”  Doug answered.  As soon as Jackson heard the name, he quickly scrolled through his contacts, and tapped Lucy’s name

“And who are you?”  The man asked.

Doug scoffed and gestured to his uniform.  “I think it’s pretty apparent who I am.”

“What do you want with my sister?” 

“We got a call from a concerned friend that they hadn’t been able to reach Charlotte.  They asked us to check on her to make sure she’s okay.”  Doug smirked.

“Jackson,” Lucy answered smiling.  “How’s it going?”

“I’m texting you my location.  You need to get here now.”  Jackson said quickly.

“Why?  What’s going on?”  Lucy immediately became concerned and shot Tim a look.

“Doug said his friend asked us to do a welfare check on his girlfriend.”  Jackson explained.

“I’m putting you on speakerphone.  Say that again.”  Lucy held the phone out so Tim could hear as well.

“Doug told me that his friend texted him  to do a welfare check on his girlfriend.”  Jackson repeated.

“What’s so concerning about that?”  Tim asked, confused.

“Because he’s doing a welfare check on Charlotte.”  Jackson answered.

“If you don’t let me talk to Charlotte, I will arrest you for obstruction!”  Doug shouted. 

“What’s happening?”  Lucy asked as Tim turned the shop’s lights and sirens on headed for Nathan’s house.

“The guy who answered the door won’t let Doug talk to Charlotte.”  Jackson sighed.

“Jackson, try to calm him down.  Don’t let him arrest anybody.  We’re on our way.”  Tim barked.

“Easier said than done.”  Jackson said as he hung up the phone.  “What seems to be the problem?”  He asked walking up to the house.

“I told you to stay on the sidewalk!”  Doug snarled.

“Maybe I can help.”  Jackson shrugged.  “Sir,” he turned his attention to the man standing in the doorway, “I’m Officer Jackson West. I’m a friend of Officer Chen’s.  Would it be okay if I talked to Charlotte?”  

“I’m not letting anybody in my house that says they’re here on her ex-boyfriend’s business.”  The man replied.

“You have ten seconds to let me in so that I can talk to her or I am placing you under arrest.”  Doug got into the man’s face.

“Mmm,”  the man hummed.  “I’m pretty sure the law says that I don’t have to let you into my house without a warrant.”  

“Sir,” Jackson attempted again, “would you please let me in just to check on her?  All I have to do is lay on her and make sure she’s okay.”

“You said you’re a friend of Lucy’s?”  The guy asked.

“I am.”  Jackson affirmed.

“You can come in.  Your friend here has to stay outside.”  

“You’re not going in there alone.”  Doug glowered.  “Officer safety.”

“Fine.  Then neither of you are coming in and you can tell that rat bastard to take his fake welfare checks and shove them up his lily-white ass.”

“I am warning you,” Doug snarled.

“I’m fine.” Charlotte said, pushing past Nathan to stand on the porch in front of Doug.  Jackson couldn’t  help but notice the hatred burning in her eyes.

“Are you Charlotte Trager?”  Doug asked.

“You know that I am.”  She said through gritted teeth, crossing her arms over her chest.  Jackson wondered what that meant.

“Can I see some ID?”  Doug asked.

“No,” Charlotte shook her head.  “You don’t need to see it.”

“Law says if an officer asks for ID, you have to supply it.  Hand it over.”  Doug responded.

“I don’t think I will.”  Charlotte shrugged.  “You’re here on a welfare check.  I am telling you my welfare is fine.  You can go.”  Nathan noticed the tremble in Charlotte’s shoulders but chalked it up to her being nervous that Jeff was mentioned.

“I will arrest you.”  Doug stated.  “Give me your ID.”

“Arrest me.  I don’t really give a fuck.”  Charlotte challenged.

“You little bitch-” Doug started.

“Hey!” Nathan shouted.

“Whoa!” Jackson held his hand up to Doug.  “There’s no need for that.”

Doug pulled his handcuffs out.  “Turn around and put your hands behind your back.  You’re under arrest.”  Charlotte did as she was instructed.  She winced as Doug locked the handcuffs into place.  “I’ll take her to get booked in.  You stay here and get statements.” 

“That makes no sense,” Jackson replied.  “How will I get back to the station?”

“I’ll come back for you,” Doug responded.

“What the fuck are you doing to my daughter?”  

“Dad, I’m fine,” Charlotte answered.

“Sir, go back into the house before I arrest you, too.”  Doug shouted.

“No,” Denver shoved Doug’s shoulder lightly.  “Get your hands off my daughter.”

“That’s assault!”  Doug screamed.  “You just assaulted a police officer.”

“Oh come on!  I only shoved you a little.  That’s not assault.”  Denver laughed.

“Shoving is assault.”  Doug turned to Jackson.  “Give me your cuffs.”

“I think we all need to settle down here.”  Jackson held up his hands.  “There’s no need to escalate this.”

“Fine, if you won’t do it, I will.  Give me your cuffs and get her into the shop.”  Doug shoved Charlotte at Jackson.  

“You’re really going to arrest me for a slight shove?”  Denver challenged.

“You bet your ass I am.  You and your piece of trash daughter can go to jail together.” 

“Well, in that case,” Denver shrugged before slamming his fist into Doug’s nose, knocking him to the ground.

“Dad!”  Charlotte cried.

“Goddamnit, Denver!”  Jo shouted from the porch.  

Doug coughed as blood spilled from his nose.  “That’s a felony.”  He groaned.

Tim slammed on his brakes in front of Nathan’s house, trying to figure out what he was seeing.

“What the hell is going on?”  Tim demanded.

Doug coughed some more before standing up.  “They’re both under arrest.”

“What for?”  Lucy asked, putting her hands on her hips.

“Her for obstruction,” Doug nodded at Charlotte, “and him for felony assault on a police officer.”  

“That’s what you get for calling my daughter a bitch and a piece of trash,” Denver spat.

“Jackson, get her out of those cuffs.”  Tim glared at Doug.

“You can’t do that!”  Doug got in Tim’s face.

“I just did.” Tim shrugged.  

“What are you even doing here?”  Doug asked.

“Dispatch couldn’t get an answer from either of you on your radios when they status checked you.  They tried checking your body cam to see if you were okay but it just shows the inside of your car.  They got the location of your shop and had us come check on you.”  Tim answered.

“They didn’t status check us!”  Doug scoffed.

“How would you know, Officer?”  Tim challenged.  “It looks like you don’t have your body cam or your radio on you.  That’s a real concern.”

“Jackson, did you hear a status check?” Doug demanded.

“No, sir.  Remember, I told you at the beginning of the shift that my radio was acting weird but you said we’d just use yours and it would be fine?”  Jackson answered quickly.

“Whatever,”  Doug spat, “cuff him.  He’s still under arrest.”

“I dunno,” Nathan shrugged.  “It looked like you tripped and fell to me.”

“Don’t be ridiculous!”  Doug whirled on him.  “You saw him hit me.”  Doug pointed at Denver.

“What did you see?”  Tim asked Jackson.

“I wasn’t paying attention to him.”  Jackson shrugged, knowing he was going to pay for saying that even if it was the truth but the satisfaction of seeing Doug Stanton laid out was worth it.  “He passed Charlotte off to me.  My back was turned so I  could escort her to the shop.”

“You lying sack of shit.”  Doug stomped up to him.  “You know exactly what happened!”

“Looks like we have a problem here.”  Tim crossed his arms over his chest.  “You have been aggressive since we pulled up.  Sounds to me like you’re trying to falsify charges because you have a vendetta against Charlotte and this man.”

“That’s asinine!”  Doug screamed with rage.

“Ma’am,” Lucy locked eyes with Jo, “what did you see?”

Jo shook her head.  “I was talking to my son about how we were going to have to bail these two out.  I didn’t see anything.”

“It’s on body camera you stupid cu-”  Doug started.

“Hey!” Tim yelled.  “You don’t talk to witnesses like that.  Jackson, pull up your body cam app on your phone and let’s review the footage.”  Tim’s stomach sank and he shot an apologetic look at Charlotte who was rubbing her wrists after Lucy unhooked the cuffs.

“I can’t,” Jackson responded.  “The app doesn’t work for me; hasn’t in about a month.”

“What have you done to get it fixed?”  Tim asked Doug.

“He never told me it wasn’t working,” Doug glared at Tim.

“Sir, I emailed you about it four times.  I have your responses, if you’d like to look at them.”  Jackson answered.

“That won’t be necessary,” Doug huffed.  

“Then we’re done here.”  Tim declared.  “Jackson, drive Doug to the hospital to get that nose checked out.”

“Yes, sir,” Jackson said.

“You okay?”  Tim asked Charlotte once Jackson and Doug were gone.  Tim could see that she looked terrified.

“No,” Charlotte shook her head.  Tears started spilling down her cheeks.  “It was him, Tim.”

“Him who?”  Nathan asked.

“I recognized his voice,” Charlotte whispered, her teeth chattering as her whole body broke out into shivers.  “He was the guy who stabbed me.”

Tim swallowed the lump in his throat.  He wished he’d been the one to punch Doug.  “I’m going to need you to identify who the voice belonged to so I can bring this to Internal Affairs.”

Charlotte nodded before looking directly into Tim’s body camera.  “I recognized the voice of the man who stabbed me as the officer you referred to as Doug.”

[triviadimplesblog]

🇹​​🇭​​🇪​ ​🇨​​🇷​​🇮​​🇲​​🇸​​🇴​​🇳​ ​🇭​​🇴​​🇷​​🇮​​🇿​​🇴​​🇳​

Chibs Telford x OC Brianne O'Connor

Warnings: violence, guns,

The Crimson Horizon Masterlist

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Chapter Eight

Life had been kind to Brianne from the moment she impulsively decided to save Chibs, Tig, and Bobby. It was the best decision of her life, now that she looked back, whether or not it was impulsive. Now, five months into her relationship with Chibs, she had been ecstatic. She was riding with the boys, getting more important assignments as the months drew closer and closer to the one-year mark. She had formed good friendships with everyone around, except for Wendy. Speaking off, Jax and Wendy decided to end things, but then Wendy came forward and announced that she was pregnant. However, Jax still things it's not gonna work out between them so he allowed her to stay at their previously shared house and he was spending his nights at the Clubhouse.

Brianne and Chibs' relationship, however, had been smooth sailing. They had taken it slow for the first month, but then something between them shifted and suddenly they were spending nights at each others' places, even for a few nights in a row. Chibs almost had all his stuff at Brianne's apartment at this point. She didn't complain, she loved having him there as much as possible. To fall asleep while he was holding her, then waking up in his arms – it was a dream come true.

They had become the hot topic when it came to teasing, though. And their number one bully? Tig freaking Trager. He was not letting go of the fact that he slept with Brianne before she and Chibs got together and now he's using any chance he could get to mess with the Scotsman. For that one time Brianne was touching up her bike, trying to fix a minor issue. Chibs was by her side, guiding her through the process, explaining which part of the machinery did what and what she needed to look out for. Neither of them noticed Tig and Juice entering. „What are you now, some motorcycle expert or something?" Tig had said jokingly, looking at Brianne.

„She's got some serious skills for this. Quick learner." Chibs shot him a wary smile, hoping that was the end of it. Brianne smiled at the compliment, looking over her handy work.

Tig snickered and Brianne knew right away that he was about to shoot one of his lame jokes. „She's got other skills you're enjoying too, right?" She looked at Tig just in time to see him wiggle his eyebrows suggestively at Chibs and Juice laughing beside him. She rolled her eyes playfully, although she was used to his teasing by now.

„Just let me work on my bike in peace, bastard." She had said, feeling Chibs' supporting hand patting her shoulder.

Being a Prospect for these idiots wasn't easy. Half-Sack got the short end of the stick when it comes to that though. Sometimes she felt sorry for the fella, but there was nothing she could do about it. If she tried to defend him, they would turn their attention to her and start their usual teasing. All in good fun, of course.

Peace doesn't last long though. She wasn't aware of it, but Brianne's past was slowly catching up to her during those few blissfull months, and soon it would finally catch her. That day was scheduled for one of their meetings with Laroy, they have all been gathered at the Clubhouse for a breakfast that Gemma had prepared. They had to collect guns and then transport them straight to Laroy today. Brianne loved it when it was just them, no croweaters, no other charters (although she had nothing against any other charter at this point, they all had to accept her as a Prospect and they did, Clay made sure of that), but it was something special when it was just them. Until it all came crashing down. Gemma had just cleared the table, with the help of the Prospects, when some unfamiliar men burst through the room.

They all had them at gun point and there was no time for any of them to pull out their guns. So they were at the mercy of these people. Brianne's breath stopped midway when she noticed their uniforms. The very familiar logo that she grew up with. Then their leader entered. She felt as if the floor opened, sucking her into the dark hole. They found her. It was all over. The Shadow Hand had arrived. As Declan O'Rourke stood in front of her, smirking, she knew there was no getting out of this alive.

„What a lovely little situation we've got ourselves in here," Declan was looking around the Clubhouse until his eyes landed on Brianne. „Isn't that right Bri?" The Sons looked at each other in confusion. Just who was this guy and how did he know Brianne? „You've got yourself quite a life here in Charming. Shame that it must come to an end."

Brianne clenched her fists, this was not the time to go all soft. She had to protect her club. „I'm afraid yer wrong," She spoke sternly. Chibs watched her focused glare, she seemed different. Like a switch was turned on and she was a different person than she was a few minutes ago. „Ye've got no business here, leave or I'll make ye leave."

Declan laughed suddenly, a sound that sent shivers down her spine. „You were our best operative, Brianne. You know too much, and you've become a liability. You can't just walk away." The truth hurts. She did know too much, but she hadn't been a threat in over four years, why would she risk everything she acquired here, just to spite the organization?

She wasn't that stupid, even they had to know it. „I left that life behind," She spoke. „I won't go back."

Declan chuckled darkly. „Oh, sweetheart, there's no escape from the Shadow Hand. You know that better than anyone." When she didn't budge, he looked around, nodding at his men. Suddenly all the guns were pressed on the back of Sons' heads, even Gemma wasn't spared from that fate. Brianne's demeanor wavered slightly at the sight of her family being put in that position. She whipped out her gun and aimed it at Declan's head. He, in turn, aimed his at Chibs. „Tell you what, you come with us peacefully and I don't blow a hole into his head. Would be a shame if your handsome Scotty died right here, wouldn't it?" Declan watched as Brianne was struggling with her options. He spoke again. „Or you could kill me, but then my men would kill every one of them," He was motioning around at all the faces she grew to love. „You can't save them all in time-„

„Alright!" Brianne shouted, easing the grip on her gun and slowly putting it down. „I'll go with you. Just don't hurt anyone." Declan jerked his head in her direction silently, putting down his gun. The two men, who had their guns aimed at Gemma and Tig, instantly grabbed her by her arms and began pushing her out the door. She didn't have any courage to look at her friends, especially not Chibs. She had messed up by letting herself settle down in the small town of Charming and almost had people she cared about killed. Now she had to pay for her mistakes. But at least they will all survive, she told herself. Her heart sank as the men led her through the Clubhouse door and towards the two vans waiting for her. She couldn't believe she had let her guard down after almost five years of freedom, and put the people she cared about in danger – and the man she loved with all her heart. She turned her head towards the Clubhouse one more time and locked eyes with Chibs. As soon as her eyes met hers, he tried to reach her, but Tig and Juice held him back.

„Let her go, ye bastards!" He shouted. Her heart broke at the anger and desperation in his voice. At that point, the Shadow Hand's men were already loading into the vans one by one and the Sons were standing outside of their Clubhouse, still as confused as ever.

„Don't try to follow us," Declan warned. „Or I really will blow a hole in Telford's head." He turned to Brianne, forcefully pushing her into the van. „Daddy dearest can't wait to see you, Brianne. Let's go."

The Sons gathered back in the Clubhouse, their assignment of the day, long forgotten. Chibs paced back and forth, having been already stopped from following after them. Jax had sent Half-Sack to discretely follow the vans and let them know of their whereabouts every few hours if they stray too far. But Chibs wanted to charge right away, not even caring for his safety. Clay looked deep in though, remembering when she told them that the less they knew about her past the better. Maybe if she had told them, they could have foreseen all of this and prevented it. But on the other hand, he did understand why she hid this from them.

Suddenly Gemma approached him, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. „We couldn't have predicted this, Clay," she said softly, knowing the turmoil he was going through. „We didn't know what we were up against." Gemma always knew what to say when someone was going through shit, and she had always been Clay's person to lean on when he needed it the most. So he appreciated having her by his side at this moment as well.

„I just wish she had trusted us enough to share more about what she was running from," He sighed. „Maybe we could have protected her from this."

Gemma understood what he meant by that, she wished Brianne had told them about her life before the Club, but the girl must have had a good reason not to. „Sometimes people keep their past hidden to protect themselves and those they care about," she said. „She was trying to start fresh with us, away from whatever she left behind."

Chibs hadn't meant to listen to their conversation, but he had caught Gemma's words. He had calmed down and cleared his head after realizing that charging in now would do neither of them any good. He was a stable person whenever they faced trouble and he shouldn't change that now either. Not when Brianne needed him the most. He faced Clay and Gemma, nodding. „Aye, she wanted a new life, a clean slate," he said, his voice tinged with frustration. „We can't blame her for that."

Clay nodded, sighing once again and standing up. „Church, now." He began walking towards the Chapel when he turned to Tig. „And get Happy and the Tacoma boys here, now." Tig just nodded, getting to making the phone call right away. The rest of the Sons took their seats in the Chapel and after Tig was done he entered as well, closing the door shut. The tension in the Chapel was palpable and could be cut with a knife, but they were used to situations similar to these and knew how to deal with the pressure. „Juice, what do we know?"

Juice had been tasked with finding out anything he could find about the supposed 'Shadow Hand', questioning any of his contacts he could ask and even going as far as doing a simple internet search. He looked up from his laptop at his brothers. He cleared his throat. „So far, I've managed to dig up some information on the Shadow Hand," He began. „They're a highly secretive and dangerous organization with ties to international crime networks. They've been involved in everything from drug trafficking to arms dealing, and they're known for their ruthless tactics."

„So what do they want from Bri?" Jax leaned in, focusing on Juice.

„I couldn't find anything on Bri. If she was a part of the organization, they must have wiped everything they had on her," Juice shook his head. „I'm guessing they see her as a liability?" He froze for a moment. „Hold up," With a few more taps on the keyboard, his eyes widened. „Holy shit."

„What? What you got?" Tig questioned.

Juice turned his laptop screen to his brothers. „This is Michael O'Connor."

The Sons leaned in to look at the image displayed on Juice's laptop screen. It was a photograph of a man in his late forties, with a hardened and dangerous look in his eyes. "Who's Michael O'Connor?" Jax asked, furrowing his brow.

„Brianne's father." Chibs suddenly chimed in. He stared at the man who looked as ruthless as any of the IRA Kings he used to know. Juice's nod only confirmed his suspicion. Chibs had asked Brianne about her family but the only person she ever talked about was her mother. Beautiful woman, according to Bri. She never mentioned anything about her father, not even his name. Chibs could only conclude that he must not be winning any 'Father of the Year' awards. „We should focus on the leader. Declan, wasn't it?"

Juice shook his head. „He's not the leader," He returned to his laptop screen one more time and typed something before showing it to his brothers once again. „Victor Blackthorn." Chibs' eyes narrowed at the image of the said man on Juice's laptop screen. There was a strange glint in the man's eyes, he could see it, even on an image. That was a man not to be messed with, Chibs could tell that much. Just how did Brianne escape from these people in the first place?

„So what's the plan?" Tig asked. „We can't just sit here and do nothing." It had taken a lot of strength for the Sergeant at Arms not to shoot every single man that broke into their home and took their Prospect from them. He was eager to break some bones once they track down the fuckers, that's for sure.

Clay cleared his throat. „We need to gather more intel before we do anything. We meet Laroy as planned, and see if he heard of this Shadow Hand. Juice, keep digging, see if you can find any weakness in the Shadow Hand's operations," Juice nodded, muttering how hard it would be since they seem to have any internet info on lockdown. „Bobby, reach out to your contacts and see if anyone knows anything about this Blackthorn guy," Bobby got up right away, exiting the Chapel and already calling everyone he assumed could help. „And Chibs," The Scotsman's head snapped in his President's direction. „You need to keep a level head. We can't afford to lose you too."

Chibs nodded, agreeing with his Prez. Clay was surely right, Brianne needed him and he had to be stable for her sake. „I hear ye, Clay," He responded. He did his best to keep his voice steady despite the hurricane of emotions raging inside his heart.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

Brianne was pulled out of the van by Declan, who wore a satisfied smirk on his face. The drive wasn't long and she was sure they took her just outside of Lodi somewhere, which meant there was still hope for the Sons to catch up before they took her to Chicago. She was taken to a hotel they stopped by and with no doubt, Brianne was sure her father awaited her there. When the two of them entered, she wasn't surprised to notice how desolate the hotel looked and she concluded that the Shadow Hand had bought the entire hotel just for this reunion today. It wouldn't be the first time they took drastic measures such as that.

Declan led her down a corridor and in front of a double-sided door. She knew her father awaited on the other side, but when the door opened she wasn't expecting to see Victor Blackthorn as well – the cunning leader. Both men stared at her with ruthless eyes. Michael briefly dismissed Declan, who closed the door shut. Once she was alone with her father and Victor, her heart began pounding in her chest. She wasn't afraid, not until now at least. If Victor was here, it would be serious. 

@crazyworldofsiani

[charminggirl512]

atonement // chibs telford x oc

Chibs Telford x F!OC

Warnings: 18+, smut, language, mentioned violence, aggression

Word Count: 1,619

A/N: This is the earliest part (timeline-wise) of the Ellie/Chibs saga that I've posted. Enjoy!

    They all turn and look at me as I slam the clubhouse doors open. It's just the guys and a couple of the crow eaters, and they quickly step out of my way when they see the anger on my face. I may be 5'4" on a good day, but I can stare a fucker down like a 6'4" linebacker when I'm well and truly pissed off, and trust me, I'm well and truly pissed off. I slam the Chapel room doors open and fixate my glare on my stupid, idiotic, son of a bitch boyfriend. 

"Filip Telford, why the fuck was I not called the second that you got back to this clubhouse?" 

"Oh, shit," Tig mutters under his breath before he tries to make a desperate escape. 

"Move another inch, Trager, and I'll make sure you can never have any nasty fucked up sex again." He stops moving and pushes himself against a wall far away from me. 

"I'm okay, lass," Filip says, an amused grin resting on his lips.

"You're okay? You're okay? You're getting blood all over the table from multiple gunshot wounds, but you're okay. Well, I'll just fuck off back home then. Don't why I came all the way down here at three in the morning if you're okay. Silly me," I yell at him before turning around to storm out. He grabs my hand and I spin around as I grab the gun that's tucked into the back of the sweatpants I took off of Chibs' side of the bed in my mad dash to get here.

"Ellie, can you chill the fuck out?" Opie instantly regrets letting the words slip from his mouth. 

"Ope, do you want me to call your wife and tell her that you're profusely bleeding from a head wound, or do you want to tell her?" He shuts up. I turn back towards Chibs, not lowering my steady hand. "I want one day, Filip. One day where I don't have to find you bleeding. I grew up around the bloody IRA and I never had to watch anyone get stitched up as often as you all do. All I have asked you to do is call me when you get hurt and you can't do one simple thing." 

"I'm sorry, lamb. I really did mean to call you," He answers softly, not acting the slightest bit bothered that I'm pointing a gun at him right now. He knows that I would never actually shoot it, but it would be nice if he would at least act a little scared. "Will you come and sit with me so that I can tell you what happened?" 

   I contemplate it for a second before sitting in a chair right by his head and Bobby goes back to stitching Chibs back up. The idiot grabs my hand off of the table and brings it up to his lips, kissing it three times before resting our joined hands back on the table.

"It was the Niners. We went into their territory today and they weren't happy about it. They followed us until we were almost back in Charming then started shooting. I took the brunt of the damage with a shot in the shoulder and a shot in the arm. Bobby was able to get everything fixed up and I'll be fine and dandy in just a little bit." 

   The tension slowly releases from my shoulders as he explains what happened. I'm soothed by knowing that it wasn't anyone Irish. I've been terrified about them coming after Chibs to get at me, which is part of the reason why I asked him to call me when he got hurt. The sooner I knew that it was or wasn't the Irish, the quicker I could make an escape plan for us. I wasn't going to lose him to my past. I would never forgive myself. 

   I rest my head on our hands and take a few more deep breaths to calm myself back down. The room is quiet around us, but I can feel them all staring at me. I try to hold back my tears, but I can't hold back the sob that racks through my body. 

"Ellie, lamb, come here." I lay my head on his chest, doing my best to stay out of Bobby's way. "I'm okay. It's okay. I'm so sorry I didn't call you. The Irish had nothing to do with it. You're safe." 

"I can't live like this, Filip. I can't keep waiting for the day that they find me or use you against me or anyone else at the club. I don't want to live like this anymore," I sob into his chest and he uses his hand threaded into my hair to guide me to look at him. 

"We're working on it, baby. I'm gonna keep you safe. They're not gonna come after us to get at you. I doubt they even know how deeply involved in the club you are now. You've been here for two years and they haven't done anything. You working yourself up about it constantly isn't going to help anything." 

"And by involved in the club, he means fucking one of the members," Jax says cheekily, which makes them all laugh. I roll my eyes at their testosterone-based humor and wipe away some of the tears that were all over my face. 

"You all just wish I was fucking the rest of you too," I answer and they really laugh at that. 

   I sit there with Chibs, the both of us quietly whispering to each other about our days as the guys talk around us. Every now and then, he kisses the back of my hand or my palm or my wrist, showing affection in small ways to reassure me. Bobby finishes up with the stitches and Opie helps Jax and I take Chibs upstairs to his dorm. Once he's resting on the bed, Opie pulls me to the side.

"I'm sorry, Ellie. I was kind of a dick earlier." I can just barely see his adorable blush under his beard.

"It's okay, Ope. I was being just a little bit crazy, so it was justified. Go home and send Donna my love." I kiss his cheek and he heads downstairs with Jax following close behind him after he kisses the top of my head. I close the door gently and climb onto the bed with Chibs. I snuggle up against him on his good side and he pulls me in closer. 

"I love you, Ellie."

"I love you too, Filip." 

"Good. Now that we've established that, come and sit on my face so I really apologize." I laugh at first until I realize that he's not joking. 

"Chibs, I'm not sitting on your face. You just got shot and you should be resting. There's plenty of time for sex in the future." 

"I can rest perfectly fine with your pussy on my tongue. Hop on, lass. Let me atone for my sins." The smirk on his lips tells me that he's not going down without a fight, so I give in, though it won't exactly be an annoying experience for me. This man knew how to eat pussy better than anyone else I'd ever been with.

   I stand up and shimmy the sweatpants down my hips. As I'm hooking my fingers into my panties and pulling them down, I'm watching Chibs' dick grow in his pants. Once I'm nude from the waist down, I try to climb on the bed and give him the best blow job of his life, but he stops me. 

"You better be sitting on my face in the next ten seconds or I'm not fucking you for a week. Take your top off too. I wanna watch your tits shake as I make you come over and over again." I pout but listen to him anyways. 

   I carefully straddle his head, doing my best to avoid touching his arm or shoulder. I use the headboard to hold myself up, not wanting to suffocate my dear boyfriend, though he's quick to hook his good arm around my waist and pull me down until I'm resting fully on his face.

   I'm sure my moans can be heard from downstairs as Chibs begins feasting on my pussy, his tongue lapping at my entrance while his nose continually nudges my clit. I yelp when he nips at it with his teeth before flattening his tongue against the hard bud continually as my thighs begin to shake. I come undone when he slides two fingers into me and hooks them into my g-spot repeatedly. 

"Please, please, please," I beg, though I'm not entirely sure of what. 

   He slowly licks me from my clit to my entrance over and over again as I come back down. Once I'm done shaking, he's back to finger fucking me as he sucks my clit between his lips, the suction quickly giving me another orgasm. He tries to keep feasting on me, but I push his head away when the pleasure becomes the pain of overstimulation. 

   I gently climb off and rest next to him. He makes sure that I'm watching him as he slides his wet fingers into his mouth. I try to give him the blow job that I wanted to give him earlier, but he stops me once again.

"Tonight was for you, lass. I don't want anything from you. Just let me hold you and sleep." 

   I kiss his lips softly before settling my head on his chest with our legs tangled together. He whispers how much he loves me as his hand gently runs up and down my back until we both drift off to sleep.

[artemiseamoon]

Preview: Revenge

Mila Chauvin ft. Tig Trager and Jax Teller & super brief appearance by Ratboy.

Words: 1182

Warnings: revenge kill, sex work mention, a massacre, sleep drugs/dosed drink.

Summary: After barely escaping the massacre at Diosa, Mila takes matters into her own hands before calling the club for help.

An: this is set after Diosa gets attacked, that hot mess of season 7. This is 100% open to expansion once I have time and less wips. We have a week left of whumpril, they may appear again! 🤷🏽‍♀️

Whumpril 2023 masterlist | Day 23: smoke, bloodstains, sharing clothes

Same universe: The strong can’t be strong all the time

This is a preview * read on A03

Fire pumped through Mila's veins as she loaded the gun. Her jaw aching from clenching it, her now dry eyes heavily lined with dark makeup. Every time she blinked, she could see the blood, the bodies; she could hear the screams. Mila barely made it out, crawled through the back door and hid, shaky hands frantically dialing Jax as tears streamed down her face.

Mila wanted to do more, to save them, but she couldn't. She was just one person against a hit team, one person whose gun was three rooms away, a path she couldn't take without getting shot herself. The killer's faces, even their fucking grins as they walked now seared into her memory.

Mila was out of it when the club came upon the scene. She was outside still, hiding behind the garbage container, knees, and hands scarred up from crawling, tears paused as she sat there in shock.

Tig found her first, he pushed the container aside and reached for her, his blue eyes full of shock, clearly still processing the scene inside. Though Mila recognized him, it took a few blinks until she responded.

"Baby, you're safe now, you can come out" He extended his hand again, gently beckoning her closer.

"Tig?"

"Yeah," he said softly, "it's me. Come on, let's get out of here."

She nodded, tears falling again as she took his hand.

Life, death, loss. There's been a lot of the last two lately, too much.

She missed the simpler times; she missed life before the Reapers came into it. Yet, she was conflicted, some of the guys are like family now, and she couldn't imagine life without them.

Read on A03

More SOA

Mila Chauvin- This is a newly introduced oc, so I don’t have more on her yet. She’s been waiting her turn. She’s in her 30s, mixed/multi racial.

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A03: artemiseamoon