Tig Trager x FTM!reader anyone? (Tig is Bi and no one can change my mind)
ᯓ★ 18+, smut, crying during sex
I tried my best to use masc terms for readers genitals!! Reader has had top surgery!!
If Tig said he'd never thought about dating a guy that would be a lie. In his life he'd probably had more wet dreams about men than any woman he's ever met. Maybe it's because it's forbidden in the old rules of SAMCRO, or maybe it was just because it wasn't "normal" for men to kiss men. At the end of the day Tig wasn't for normalcy, he didn't care about his so-called image, and he didn't care what other people thought. On the long list of the horrible or weird things he's done, having sex with a few guys when nobody is looking isn't even top ten. Hell, maybe not even top twenty, but he's not keeping track.
So when he started bringing you, his boyfriend, around the clubhouse no one batted an eye. Either nobody cared or they just knew not the say anything to Tig who's been less than civil lately. But that's why he had you, that's why he loved you. You were the calm to his raging storm. His rock, his shorter, sexy, rock that makes him laugh. That makes him feel loved on days where nothing was okay.
Days like today when everything goes to shit he doesn't even make the effort to clean up before going to your place. He shows up in his kutte that smells like gun oil, hands with grime still under his nails, and a new wound on his face from getting hit during some stupid argument. You took his hand and led him to the bathroom. Making him sit on the side of the tub as you gently cleaned him up. Listening to him quietly hiss as you took a washcloth to the dried blood on his cheek before putting one of those funny shaped band-aids on the cut. You called it a butterfly bandage once.
You'd help him strip down to his boxers, tossing every thing but his kutte into the laundry basket. He didn't need help, he was a grown man. But Tig could never say no to your hands on him. The way your fingers graze across his skin as you unbuttoned his shirt. Or how he had to hold back quiet gasps as your hands undid his belt buckle.
He'd ended up in your bed, arms wrapped around you as the two of you just talked. Letting you ask him whatever simple silly little questions that came to your mind.
"How old where you when you started riding motorcycles?"
"Tell me your favorite movie so I can go rent it for us."
"What's this tattoo mean?"
At moments like this Tig wished he could stay like this forever and never to worry about the sons again. But it wasn't simple, nothing ever was. So he'd take the quiet moments he has and make the most of them.
Tig pressed his face against your neck, nipping at the skin below your ear. You tilted your head to give his easier access. He hummed as his hands slid up your shirt. He pulled back to look at you, silently asking for permission. When you nodded he slipped your shirt over your head and tossed it off the bed. He moved so he was on top of you, his legs between yours. His bare chest pressed against yours as he slowly kissed you.
One of his hands slipped behind your head, holding you in place, keeping your lips against yours. He was desperate, needy, you could practically feel it rolling off of him in waves. But even when he was like this he was slow. Tig was always slow when he loved someone. He hated the thought of hurting the person who chose to love him. Him. Not another guy with a normal life, with a normal nine to five with his life put together. But him with all his issues and a career that most couldn't handle.
Tig moved away from your lips, kissing down your neck to your collars bones. His hands slipping under your waistband. As he tugged your pants and underwear down his other arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you onto his lap. Managing to have you fully naked by the time he had you straddling his thighs.
He could feel his hard dick pressing against yours. "Please, baby." Two simple whispered words. But you knew what they meant, what he wanted. You always did. Especially when he looked up at you, silently pleading. "Go ahead." A simple two worded answer to his question. But that's all he needed.
He shifted underneath you, tugging his boxers down just enough to get his cock out. You reached for the box of condoms on the night stand and he nudged your hand away. He grabbed the box, pulling out one of the little packets. He ripped it open with his teeth, pulling the condom out. He slipped it on his cock before grabbing your hips. "You still sure?" You nodded, leaning down to kiss him. "Yeah, I'm sure."
He pulled your hips up, the tip on his dick pressed up against your wet hole. His hands slid back to your ass. Holding the squishy globes as you sunk down on him. You moaned and his breath hitched. He didn't move yet, didn't thrust his hips up. He was letting you set the pace. He always did unless you asked for him to take control.
When you were finally sat fully on his dick he wrapped his arms around you. When you finally moved he pressed his forehead against your chest. He could hear your breath quicken, but so did his. Maybe it wouldn't last long, maybe it would. It didn't matter, nothing did right now. Not when you felt so goddamn good around him.
Suddenly your hands cupped Tigs face, making him look up at you. His eyes widened as he stared up at you. He leaned into your touch. Letting you hold his face as you rode him. It felt amazing. He felt like he's having some weird outta body experience that only you could achieve. As he stared at you, watching your eyes flutter shut, he realized how much he loved you.
He loved every inch of you. The scars under your pecs that he'd absentmindedly trace when the mornings were quiet. The stubble that scratched his skin when you'd kiss all over him. The way you touched him like he was fragile. Tears gathered in his eyes. He didn't even notice at first. Not until your thumb swiped across his cheek. "Do we need to stop?" Tig shook his head, swallowing. "Don't- don't stop." "But you're crying."
You had said it so softly. Confusion and concern laced in your words. He understood your confusion. He's never cried during sex. He's made you cry but for completely different reasons. "I love you." He whispered, pulling you in to kiss you. Letting the tears roll down his cheeks. His hand on your hip guiding you, making sure you didn't stop. Letting you know he was okay, more then okay. This was probably the best he's felt in a long, long time.
And it was all because of you.
Tired talks: This took me two hours and its currently 4am, I need to start writing more so I can get my groove back :/. I've also never written an x reader, so its probably not the greatest. I'll get better I promise!! If you have any tips or HELPFUL criticism please tell me. Anywho, I hope you enjoyed it and I hope it wasn't too bad. There's a lack of male/FTM x readers so I decided to write my own. So obviously I had to write about my baby girl.
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