Warnings: MDNI!, 18+, Mentions of Violence, Guns and Blood, Smut at some point, SOA plots, Fluff, Angst, Happy being obsessive, slow burn
Disclaimer: I do not own any plots or characters of the Sons of Anarchy Tv Show, I do however own the rights to my oc and her plot lines
Author Note: this is my first story I’m posting to tumblr and I’m not quite familiar with the dynamics of the app, I’m using to writing elsewhere so please forgive me if it looks weird or spaced oddly. I love love love feedback and thank you so much for reading.
Juliet Teller was a living, breathing princess.
She knew it, the club knew it, and the people of Charming knew it. Not in a tiara and sparkles kind of way rather in the way she carried herself with grace and grit, born and raised in the chaos of Teller blood and Redwood Original oil. Kind, caring, and nurturing to the core, she was sunshine in human form. A soft-hearted storm in jeans and leather, always ready with a warm meal, a stitched-up wound, or a sharp word when someone needed setting straight.
She was the best parts of her mother, softened by time and her own stubborn heart. Strong and soft in all the right places. She took care of everyone.
Happy Lowman was nothing like her.
A reaper in the flesh. A hitman who didn't ask questions. Cold hands with an even colder stare, he wore his kutte with deadly pride and lived by the club's code with brutal devotion. Where Juliet brought light, Happy brought silence. Efficient. Unfeeling. Unapologetic. The kind of man who didn't make friends, didn't do soft, and didn't play nice.
At least, not until fate dropped Juliet Teller into his path like a warm hand pressed against a loaded gun.
Part 5 of an Animal Kingdom x Sons of Anarchy Story
Andrew is slipping further into the darkness prison left behind, convinced the woman he loved abandoned him without looking back.
Meanwhile, Y/N is trying to hold herself together while carrying the one thing tying her back to him in ways neither of them are ready for.
Back in Ocean Side.
The visitation room smelled like industrial cleaner and desperation. Deran sat at one of the bolted-down metal tables, his hands folded in front of him, the letter from Y/N burning a hole in his jacket pocket. Around him, other visitors leaned across tables toward inmates—wives, mothers, children—all of them trying to bridge the impossible distance that prison created.
The door buzzed. Deran looked up.
Pope walked in wearing orange, his hands cuffed in front of him. A guard followed close behind, watching with dead eyes as Pope crossed to the table and sat down.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Deran studied his brother's face—the sharp angles, the cold set of his jaw, the way his eyes had gone flat and empty. This wasn't the man who'd he watched hold Y/N in the kitchen and promised her forever. This wasn't even the man who'd taken the fall for the robbery to protect his brothers.
This was someone else entirely.
Someone Smurf had gotten to.
"You look like shit," Deran said finally, trying for lightness.
Pope didn't smile. "What do you want?"
Straight to it, then. No warmth. No brotherhood.
Deran leaned back in his chair, forcing himself to stay calm. "Can't I just visit my brother?"
"You could," Pope said flatly. "But you don't. So what do you want?"
The words landed like a punch. Deran swallowed hard, fighting the urge to snap back. This wasn't Pope talking—this was Smurf's poison working through him, turning him bitter and cold.
"I came to give you something," Deran said quietly.
Pope's eyes narrowed. "From Smurf?"
"No." Deran reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the letter, setting it on the table between them. "From Y/N."
The change was immediate.
Pope's jaw tightened. His hands, resting on the table, curled into fists. "Don't."
"Pope—"
"I said don't." His voice was low, dangerous. "I don't want to hear her name."
Deran stared at him, disbelief and anger warring in his chest. "Are you serious right now?"
"Dead serious." Pope leaned back, his expression carved from stone. "She's gone. She moved on. I'm done."
"That's bullshit and you know it."
"Do I?" Pope's laugh was harsh, bitter. "Because last I heard, she packed up and left without a word. Didn't try to visit again. Didn't call. Didn't write. Just—gone."
"That's not what happened—"
"Then what did happen, Deran?" Pope leaned forward, his voice dropping to something cold and cutting. "Because Smurf told me she saw her with some guy, while I've been rotting in here."
Deran's hands clenched under the table. "And you believed her?"
"Why wouldn't I?" Pope's eyes were hard, unforgiving. "Y/N left. That's a fact. She didn't come back. That's a fact. So yeah, I believed her."
"Jesus Christ." Deran ran a hand through his hair, frustration boiling over. "You really think Y/N would do that to you? After everything?"
"I don't know what she'd do anymore." Pope's voice was flat, emotionless. "I thought I knew. Thought we had something real. But people change. People leave."
"She didn't leave because she wanted to," Deran said, his voice rising. "She left because she was scared. Because Smurf and Baz were—"
"Don't." Pope cut him off, his tone sharp. "Don't make excuses for her."
"I'm not making excuses. I'm telling you the truth."
"The truth?" Pope laughed again, the sound hollow. "The truth is, I took the fall. I'm sitting in here doing time so you and Craig and Baz could walk free. And where is she? Not here. Not waiting for me. So forgive me if I don't buy whatever story you're selling."
Deran stared at him, something breaking in his chest. This was worse than he'd thought. Smurf hadn't just planted lies—she'd twisted the knife, made Pope believe he'd been abandoned when he was at his lowest.
"She wrote you a letter," Deran said quietly, nodding toward the envelope still sitting on the table. "Read it."
Pope didn't move. Didn't even look at it.
"I don't want it."
"Pope—"
"I said I don't want it." His voice was cold, final. "Whatever she has to say, I don't care. She made her choice. I'm making mine."
The guard shifted near the wall, a subtle reminder that time was running out.
Deran leaned forward, his voice low and urgent. "You're making a mistake. You're letting Smurf get in your head, and you're going to lose the best thing that ever happened to you."
"I already lost her." Pope's eyes met his, and for just a second, Deran saw it—the crack in the armor, the pain underneath. "She left me here. Alone. So yeah, I'm done."
"She didn't—"
"Time's up," the guard called.
Pope stood immediately, the cuffs rattling as he moved. He didn't look at the letter. Didn't look at Deran.
"Pope, wait—"
But he was already walking away, his back rigid, his shoulders set.
Deran sat there, staring at the letter still lying on the table, and felt the weight of failure settle over him like a shroud.
He'd tried.
And it hadn't been enough.
The guard approached. "You taking that with you?"
Deran looked down at the envelope—Y/N's handwriting, careful and neat, spelling out Pope's name.
He picked it up slowly, folding it back into his jacket pocket.
"Yeah," he said quietly. "I'm taking it."
Because if Pope wouldn't read it now, maybe—maybe—there'd come a day when he would.
When Smurf's lies finally crumbled.
When the truth broke through.
But as Deran walked out of the visitation room and into the harsh sunlight, he couldn't shake the image of Pope's cold, empty eyes.
The man Y/N loved was still in there somewhere.
Deran just didn't know if he'd ever come back.
I sat in my car for a long time, engine off, windows down to feel a nice breeze, hands trembling as I stared down at the folder in my lap. The ultrasound images were right there on top—that tiny flicker on the screen, that heartbeat.
My baby.
Andrew's baby.
The weight of it pressed against my chest until I could barely breathe. I pulled out my phone with shaking fingers and scrolled through my contacts until I found his name.
Deran.
It rang twice before he picked up.
"Hey," his voice came through warm and familiar, and something inside me cracked wide open.
"Der," I whispered, throat tight. "God, I miss you."
"I miss you too." There was a pause, concern bleeding into his tone. "You okay?"
I let out a shaky breath, wiping at my eyes. "Yeah. I just—I had my first appointment. Everything looks good."
"Good." Relief flooded his voice. "That's good. How are you feeling?"
"Terrified," I admitted. "But... it's real now. I saw the heartbeat."
"Jesus." He exhaled slowly, and I could picture him running a hand through his hair the way he always did when he was processing something heavy.
Silence stretched between us, heavy with everything unsaid.
Then I straightened slightly, gripping the phone tighter. "Der, we should fake your death. So you can come live here."
His tone shifted immediately. "Ummm, you’re losing your mind?"
"Oh, no doubt about it.." I laughed.
Deran was quiet for a beat. "And what about you? What's your plan?"
I stared down at the ultrasound images, that tiny shape barely visible on the grainy paper.
"Oh, I'm getting a whole new identity. New name, new social security number, the works. Maybe I'll be a yoga instructor named Sunshine. Or a librarian called Meredith."
"Jesus Christ." But there was the faintest hint of a laugh in his voice. "You're not serious."
"Dead serious. I think I'd be hot as a ginger. Really commit to the bit." I pressed my hand against my mouth, trying to hold back the hysterical edge creeping into my voice.
"Maybe move to Montana. Do people even live in Montana?"
"Stop." His voice was gentle now, understanding.
"You're spiraling."
"I know." The laugh that escaped me was broken, wet.
"I just—I can't think about this too hard or I'll lose it completely."
"I think I'm well past that point." He was quiet for a moment.
"But we're going to figure this out. Both of us. We're getting out."
I closed my eyes, clutching the phone like a lifeline. "Have you... have you seen Andrew yet?"
The pause that followed made my stomach drop.
"Yeah," Deran said finally. "I saw him yesterday."
"And?"
"Somethings off." His voice was careful, like he was choosing his words deliberately. "He knew you left and thought you were with someone else."
My throat tightened. "WHAT?!
"Yeah." Deran exhaled slowly. "I think Smurf did something to him, put those thoughts in his head. He was cold and had nothing to do with me or the letter."
The words hit me like a physical blow. I pressed my hand against my mouth, trying to hold back the sob threatening to break free.
"I’m so sorry, Y/N," Deran continued quietly. "I don’t mean to add more shit to the pile, but you’d tell me if I was you."
Tears blurred my vision. "Der—"
I couldn't speak. Could only sit there with the phone pressed to my ear, the ultrasound images in my lap, and the knowledge that Andrew was slipping back into the darkness I'd pulled him out of.
That I'd left him there, and with someone new. I could never feel the same for anyone like the way I felt for Andrew.
"You’re doing the right thing," Deran said softly. "You know that, right? Getting away from all this. Protecting the baby."
"I know, it doesn’t feel like it, though," I whispered.
It feels like dying.
When we hung up, I sat there staring at the ultrasound images, heart pounding, mind racing.
Andrew was gone. Not physically—but the man I'd loved, the man who'd held me in the morning light and promised me forever, that man had disappeared back into the hollow shell he'd been before.
And I was carrying his child.
Our child.
The only piece of him I had left.
I don't know how long I sat in the car before I finally forced myself to drive to the garage.
The parking lot was full when I pulled in—rows of motorcycles gleaming in the afternoon sun, the familiar rumble of engines and rough laughter spilling out from the open bays. I grabbed my purse, the ultrasound images tucked safely inside, and made my way toward the entrance.
Inside, the smell hit me immediately—motor oil and gasoline mixing with the warm, sweet scent of fresh bread and cinnamon rolls from mom's baking in the small kitchen in the club. It was such a specific combination.
The garage was busy. Guys working on bikes, tools clanging, music playing from somewhere in the back. A few of them looked up when I walked in, nodding or calling out greetings. I forced a smile, kept moving.
Mom was in her office on the computer, working. She looked up when I walked in, and something in my face must have given me away because she immediately stood up and hugged me.
"Baby," she said softly. "Come on."
We walked next door into the club bar. It was quieter there—dim lighting, worn leather booths, the faint smell of whiskey and cigarette smoke clinging to everything.
She sat me down at one of the tables and disappeared into the small kitchen behind the bar. I heard the clink of dishes, the hum of the microwave, and a few minutes later she returned with a plate of food—grilled cheese and tomato soup, comfort food from childhood.
"Eat," she said, sliding into the booth beside me.
I picked up half of the sandwich, but my hands were shaking. "Mom—"
"I know," she said gently. "Just eat first. Then we'll talk."
I managed a few bites, the warmth of the soup settling my stomach slightly. Mom sat beside me, her hand resting on my back, steady and grounding.
The door opened, and Chibs walked in. He paused when he saw us, his expression softening immediately.
"There she is," he said, his Scottish accent thick and warm. "Wondered when you'd come by."
I tried to smile, but it came out shaky. "Hey, Chibs."
He crossed to the table and slid into the booth across from us, his eyes scanning my face with the kind of careful attention that made me feel seen. "You alright, lass?"
I looked at Mom, then back at Chibs. Then I reached into my purse and pulled out the ultrasound images, setting them on the table between us.
For a moment, neither of them moved. Then Mom picked them up carefully, passing one to Chibs.
His eyes widened slightly as he studied the grainy black-and-white image. "Is this—?"
"Yeah," I whispered.
A slow smile spread across his face, something tender and aching. "A wee one."
Mom was smiling too, tears shining in her eyes. "Oh, sweetheart," she said softly.
Chibs reached across the table and squeezed my hand. "This is good news, love. Real good news."
"Is it?" My voice cracked. "Because it doesn't feel good. It feels—"
"Scary," Mom finished gently. "I know. But you're not alone. You've got us."
Chibs nodded, his grip on my hand tightening. "Whatever you need, lass. We're here."
I looked between them—these two people who'd been constants in my life, who'd shown up when my world fell apart, who were showing up now—and felt something loosen in my chest.
"Thank you," I whispered.
Mom pulled me close, pressing a kiss to my temple. "We're going to take care of you. Both of you."
The main door swung open, and Juice walked in, his face lighting up when he saw me.
"Holy shit!" he said, crossing the room in three long strides. "You're back! I didn't know you were coming home—when did you get in? How's school? Are you done for the semester or—?"
"Juice," Mom said, her tone gentle but firm. "Give her some space."
But he was already sliding into the booth beside Chibs, his energy filling the small space. "Nursing school, right? That's so cool. Are you doing clinicals yet? What's your specialty going to be? Pediatrics? ER?"
"I—" I started, but he kept going.
"Man, it's good to see you. The club's been so quiet without you around. Gemma's been worried, you know? We all have. Why didn't you tell us you were coming back? Are you staying long or—?"
His eyes landed on the ultrasound images still sitting on the table.
He froze.
"Is that—?" He picked one up, studying it with wide eyes. "Holy shit. You're pregnant?"
I couldn't speak. Could only nod.
"That's amazing!" He looked up at me, grinning. "Congratulations! Seriously, that's—wow. Do you need anything? Because I'm here, okay? Whatever you need. Rides to appointments, help moving stuff, anything. I'm serious. You just say the word, and I'm there."
"Juice," Chibs said quietly.
But Juice was still talking, his words tumbling over each other. "And the club—man, everyone's going to be so excited. A baby! That's huge. We'll throw you a shower, get the nursery set up, whatever you need. Your family, you know? We take care of family."
The walls were closing in. His voice was too loud, too bright, too much. The smell of the grilled cheese was suddenly overwhelming, mixing with the motor oil and cigarette smoke and the faint sweetness of Mom's perfume.
My stomach turned.
"I—" I stood abruptly, the booth scraping against the floor. "I need air."
"You okay?" Mom asked, concern flashing across her face.
But I was already moving, pushing through the door and into the courtyard behind the garage.
The fresh air hit me, but it wasn't enough. My stomach lurched violently, and I barely made it to the trash can by the back wall before I was throwing up, my body heaving as everything I'd just eaten came back up.
I heard footsteps behind me, voices—low and concerned.
"Shit," someone said. Jax.
I straightened, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, and turned to find Jax and Opie standing a few feet away, cigarettes in hand, watching me with identical expressions of concern.
"You good?" Jax asked, his voice careful.
I nodded, even though I wasn't. "Yeah. Just—"
"Morning sickness?" Opie said quietly.
I froze.
He took a drag of his cigarette, his eyes steady on mine. "Donna had it bad with all three kids. Couldn't keep anything down for months."
Jax glanced at Opie, then back at me. "How far along?"
"Eight weeks," I whispered.
The silence that followed was heavy, suffocating.
Opie stepped closer and rubbed my back."Take it easy, kid.”
I smiled up at him.
"Deran called me," Jax said. "About Andrew. And the lies Smurf told him."
Tears burned my eyes. "I left him there, and now—"
"You did what you had to do," Opie said firmly. "To protect yourself. To protect the baby."
"But what if—"
"No what-ifs," Jax said. "You made the call. Now you live with it."
I nodded, even though the weight of it felt impossible.
Opie crushed his cigarette under his boot. "You need anything, you let us know. We've got your back."
"Thank you," I whispered.
And for just a moment, standing there, realizing all of these people didn’t question or even think before saying that if I needed anything, they’d be there for the baby and me. Maybe I would be okay, and I let myself believe it.
A/N: Thank you so much for all of your support with this series! I really do appreciate it. I am in love with writing this for you guys. Please comment if you'd like to be added to the tag list. Part 6 should be over very shortly; until then 🥰
part 6 - sunshine - wrd 3.7kish
previous | next
Series Master - see ml for info - standard soa warnings + age gap
sugar wrote another smut chapter? who am i........
not my best work, im still figuring out how to write the smut in a way that doesn't make me cringe, so ya know...enjoy?
tw: extremely vague mention of s/assault, very light smut, pretty basic stuff but let me know if anything specific is missing
Complicated. Your brain loved that word lately. The more you thought about your current predicament, the more it came up. It was like the two of you were trying to reconcile after a hasty divorce. You had considered it working, it’s hard to ignore how easy it had been already, but the littlest girl you both adore complicates everything.
What happens if it doesn’t work? If you don’t have enough in common given the age difference of it all? If he follows the club rules rather than the ones you want in place, stepping out with a croweater just because he’s on a run?
Knowing him your whole life gives you a different perspective. Him, the club, the way they think and treat women like collectibles. They want it all, but no one's had you. Are you a challenge? A toy? Some sort of prize?
How would it affect her? If you tried it and failed miserably, what happens then? Does he walk away? Do you? And would she ever forgive you if you did?
You had way too many questions and no way to answer them without actually asking for the answers, but getting words out of Happy was like pulling teeth. Grunts and nods only provide so much clarity, so the moment you sat down with that long awaited coffee you came out swinging.
“Is this just about getting laid?”
“The fuck you just say?”
“Be serious,” you scolded him for his tone with a sharper one of your own, demanding he actually listen to you. “You’re the conqueror. Women from here to Tacoma talk about your monster sized dick, but they also talk about you tossing them out like trash when you’re done.” He choked on his coffee, hot black liquid snorted up his nasal cavity, but that didn’t stop you. “So again, is this just about getting laid? Because whatever the hell we’re doing is working, and if that’s all you want from me, I’d rather not ruin it for her.”
He listened to everything you said. He tried to anyway, but his brain was stuck. “Monster dick?”
“Okay,” you sighed, pushing back on the table to make a swift exit with your overpriced iced coffee.
“I treat trash like trash,” he took hold of your wrist before you could even take a step, straightening up in his seat, “you ain’t trash.”
He dropped your arm, letting you have an out if you really wanted it, but it prompted you to sit. A little less tense than before, rejoining the conversation now that he was actually ready to have it.
“I’m not playing with you.”
You scoffed, fiddling with anything and everything to disguise the trembling taking over your limbs. “No you’re just a man after my daughter’s heart.”
“Already have that, it’s yours I’m worried about.”
Everything around you came to a dead stop. The ringing in your ears faded to a dull hum and your hands finally stopped shaking with nerves of this epically failing before it could even start.
The two of you settled, relaxing into your seats, fiddling with your cups because neither of you knew what to do next. You’re out of practice, he’s never tried. The buzz of the cafe kept the two of you company while you figured out where you go from here.
You came out swinging, so it’s only fair you keep it going.
“You’re halfway there, seeing you with her is like a cheat code… Be honest, you don’t find it even a little odd? How much she clings to you?”
He looked up from his cup and blinked once. An expression that told you exactly how stupid of a question that was. “We’ll bring her with us next time.”
“A family outing, how domestic.”
“Family’s important.” He took a sip, you took a sip. Watching each other closely like the other might disappear if either of you blinked. It was his turn to speak first, but he didn’t do conversation well. He handled in facts, orders. “There’s a park by my house, we’ll go there.”
“Domestic and presumptuous.”
“Can’t hide from me, she won’t let you.”
“Yeah that’s true,” you took another slow sip of coffee, eyes up, straw resting on your bottom lip, “so what I’m hearing is, technically you are using my daughter to get laid.”
“Using our daughter to hitched.”
You gasped, absolutely sure you uncovered the secret of the year. “Gemma did put you up to this didn’t she?”
“Nah, Jax.”
“Motherfucker,” you laughed, lightly kicking his leg under the table. The joyful noise broke the wall. It was a harsh shot to the support beam that sent his hardened biker attitude crumbling down.
“Been watching you for a while, he noticed.”
“Watching me?” You snorted, falling a little harder for that obnoxious bluntness that bordered the line of charming.
“I liked your belly when you were pregnant, you looked like the sun.”
You gasped again, softer, shock evident in the blood leaving your face. This wasn’t a whim. You had convinced yourself he just woke up and decided this was happening, that this was something he decided on just because it’s what she wanted.
He said it was about her, but this started before her. He might be too hardcore to admit it in those exact words, but he wanted you, he’s always wanted you.
He grinned at the thought. The sundresses that barely fit you, the waddle to your walk, the way your skin glowed like you were made up entirely of sunshine and morning dew.
"It makes sense now.”
You swallowed the air stuck in your throat, and searched him. “How so?”
“You had all the joy inside you, gave birth to sunshine.”
The blood came rushing back, heat consuming you entirely, eyes like saucers. Who the hell is this guy and where did he come from? The Tacoma Killer you know wasn’t this. He was cold, distant, calculated and quiet. But Happy Lowman, you were quickly learning was much more than that. Warm when necessary, protective above all else, bordering the line of loving. As weird as the notion may be, very similar to your dad even. Someone halfway decent tied to a world that’s anything but.
“That’s…that’s really sweet, Happy.”
He nodded. One sharp tip of his chin to acknowledge the situation. “How’d she happen?”
“Oh, that’s… that’s um.”
He watched your mind work, spinning on a memory that turned your eyes a haunting shade in place of your bright irises. “You don’t gotta tell me,” he muttered, nudging your foot with the tip of his boot, “just curious.”
“Well, there was this guy, obviously.” You swallowed. It was a lot, and nothing you’ve ever shared. Jax never asked, never cared, but he did mention it to Happy. All that hurt you came home with, and how far you’ve come since. A friendly heads up to help him understand you and your hesitation to trust anyone.
“It was supposed to be casual fun, but he started taking things too far and the psycho didn’t understand the word no I guess.” You fiddled with your coffee, eyes down, crossing and uncrossing your legs. “I came home the next day, didn’t stop driving until I was on Jax’s front porch. I took the morning after pill and everything but a month later was the positive test.”
Everything fell into place like a math equation, x+y=z, he just didn’t have all the pieces back then. When he watched you fight like hell to put life back in your eyes. When you switched to burner phones permanently because your cell never stopped ringing. When you disappeared the same week Jax sent out a hunting party out for a pompous douche bag roaming around town.
Happy didn’t care for details. The less he knows the simpler things go. It’s transactional, routine. With all the variables it's rageful, and rage creates a dangerous game.
“I’m sorry, ‘bout what he did to you.”
He slid his hand halfway across the table, mirroring the subtle movement of support he picked up from you. You didn’t take it at first, even though you wanted to. You shifted in your seat, absently tracking the mix of ink up his arm. He rolled his wrist, flexing, showing off the ink your gaze was fixated on, and your hand slipped. Right across the table and into his, brushing your fingers gently across his warm skin.
“I’m okay,” you managed, “I don’t think about it much anymore.”
“She get anything from him?”
“No, thankfully. I was terrified I’d like resent her or something crazy.” You couldn’t help but smile at the thought of your little carbon copy. It was hard at first. All the hurt, pain, bottled up and redirected into being the best version of yourself for her. The little blip on the ultrasound that was now growing like a weed. A perfect balance of all you and your fathers best genes. “She uh, she does do this thing with her nose-”
Your sentence ended with a laugh, watching his stoic expression transform into the most hilarious view. He knew what you were talking about before you had the chance, Happy made the face. The nose wrinkle, lips pursed, squinted eyes face.
“Exactly, my dad used to do that. When he smelled something bad, or didn’t like how something tasted. She got that from him.”
“I knew him.”
You rolled your eyes and his jaw clenched. He so badly wanted to pop the side of your head, but of course he didn’t. He politely ignored the urge with a stabilizing deep breath in.
“Everyone knew him,” you smiled, eyes on the sky because despite all his faults you knew he was watching closely. Always with you in the stories told and the gentle breeze when things get tough.
“Not like that, we were friends.”
Your head tilted, he walked right into that one, “and now you’re trying to get with his daughter, funny how things work out, huh?”
His jaw flexed, muscles working while he tried to shove down the thoughts he’s been doing his best to keep buried. You nudged his shoe, and that devilish onyx gaze found your softened one once more.
“I’m just messing with you,” you chuckled, leg stretched under the table to tap his knee with your toes. He caught your foot with a tug, putting your shoe in his lap and kept his hand wrapped around your ankle.
“You’re like him, strong.”
You readjusted yourself so the position you were forced in was at least halfway comfortable, soaking up the sensation of his thumb rolling over your joint. “Thank you.”
“I need you to know you don’t gotta be strong with me.”
That made you squirm, too much too soon, inching back up to sit straight in your seat. His words were hitting way to close to home and you didn’t know what to do with them yet, because you didn’t know what he wanted yet.
“What do you want out of this? Really?”
He tapped his ring on the table, deciding how to answer the question that felt like a trap. He could only really answer it one way because it should be simple. Obvious. She’s the only reason you’re here, and the only reason he grew the balls to do anything about his habit of craving you. “Told you, it’s been about her, you’re a good lookin’ bonus.”
“Funny.”
“True.”
You tapped your cup, fingers drumming nervously along the condensation. “I never wanted to be with a member, I know how messy it can get.”
“Never wanted an old lady either,” he grumbled, surveying the exits like it was second nature, “things change.”
“You do know I’m not going to marry you just like that, right?”
“I ain’t worried about that,” he cleared his throat and leaned back, “just let me know when you’re ready to change her name.”
“Yeah right,” you chuckled and that devilish onyx gaze found your softened one.
Oh. Oh, he’s serious.
“She’s my kid,” he stated, voice rough and void of the hint of playfulness he kept letting slip. He was crazy, but not about this. You didn’t have to be a Lowman, but she would be, and something about that did it for you.
The claim, the boldness, the seriousness too. This wasn’t a game to him. He just wanted to be a dad, her dad. That hungry look in your eye made him shift his denim, and that was all it took.
Mama Gemma was right, you really could use it.
“I have another hour before I’m supposed to pick her up,” you swirled your cup, ice shaking up the mixture, “do you want to get out of here?”
His expression searched yours. He knew that tone. That not so subtle lilt, the way you bit your lip and held it hostage. You wanted a test drive, and he was more than happy to oblige. He downed the rest of his plain black coffee in one gulp and stood, one hand out and the other pulling out his keys.
“Should be more careful about what you’re asking for.”
He stalked towards the end of your mattress, cock too hard and heavy to stand upright. You gulped. Monster cock. Red hot and leaking, coming right at you like a war missile set to destroy.
You expected heaven. You expected a minimum of one mind blowing orgasm that would make you see God. Your expectations hit an all time low. He was rough, selfish, and quick. He knew what he liked and took exactly that. There was no more, no less.
He manhandled into a position that did nothing for you. Split you in half by his size with little prep and used you like a flesh-light until the condom was tossed to the side like toxic waste and ropes of cum were spraying across your back.
Then the beast of a man grunted, giving a harsh smack to your ass as a thank you. You collapsed, a quiet sigh leaving your lips as you rearranged yourself on the bed. That sound was impossible to miss. He didn’t have a clue what it meant but he knew how it felt.
Your deflated lungs double knotted his guts. He glanced your way, tossing a towel your direction once he was done with it so you could clean up the mess he made of your back end.
You managed, but rather than a dick drunk smile, your mind was visibly at work. That’s not what he’s used to, but usually he just sends bitches packing. He couldn’t do that with you, he didn’t want to do that with you, but he wasn’t sure what to do next. More importantly what to do about that pitiful look on your face.
“Something up?”
You giggled before you could stop yourself. You wanted this to work but you love yourself enough to know you wouldn’t be doing that for the rest of your life. You were mentally weaving through your thoughts on how exactly to go about this.
The male ego is a fragile thing, but nothing about Happy was fragile.
“I think you’re used to this being all about you,” you chuckled, crawling back to the bed’s edge, “if you have it in you, maybe we can try again?”
He stared at you, hard. Not once in all his years has he received criticism. But you, perfect little ol’ you managed to do it with a smile on your face.
“You tellin’ me you didn’t get off?”
You grabbed at the air, rushing because you didn’t have much time left. Pick up time was quickly approaching and you need some form of hope you could at least train him properly.
“It’s okay, really! I’ll just walk you through it this time.”
Oh, that stung. Based on the look in his eyes, you were convinced his ego would never recover. You’re half his age, he should be teaching you things. His experience should be all knowing, but you’re not just doubting his skills, you’re critiquing it. Calling him old without actually doing it, willing to help him learn skills he never gave a damn about before. He didn't really give a damn about much. If it wasn't tied to the kutte across the room, it wasn't worth it, but you are.
He took a long time with it. Thinking, calculating, trying to understand the situation for what it was. What went wrong and why. If he fucked it up and how to fix it, but he didn’t know any different. He gave you what he gives everyone, what he thought he does best. Quick and careless fun. His mind was racing but his whole body went stiff, visibly absent of the panic he was mentally working through. Steady breathing, frozen in place, and a lifeless stare fixed on your tits.
He stood defeated by your dresser like someone powered down your play toy before you even had a chance to have any real fun.
“Just come here,” you whispered, tone softer, more serious.
He didn’t move. Fuck he wanted to fix it, but he used the only condom in his wallet, and he knew better than to ask the girl who’s never brought another guy home if she had one. “I’m not about to baby trap you.”
“We are so way past that,” you scoffed, crossing the room and pulling him back to the bed with slow sultry steps. You moved him like a doll, placed him at the edge, encouraged him to get comfortable, and then mounted that thing like a horse.
“Now kiss me,” you whispered, and his mouth gapped open, “don’t swallow me, kiss me.”
He pressed his to yours, softer, letting them linger. Yours moved first, parting gently as you resumed your movements. Rough hands traveled up and down your spine. Holding you, rocking you, following your lead. Up, down, up, down. Consistently bouncing on his cock until deep groans thick with the pleasure he wasn’t even convinced was real poured into you.
Every part of you felt like a dream, the sticky wet heat morphing around him. The way your hips rolled, and your delicate touch held his face in your hands. His body felt alive. Every nerve was on fire, his heart beating out of his chest, balls so tight and he found himself holding his breath so he didn’t bust like a two-pump chump.
Your tongue swirled his mouth playfully, swallowing everything he was giving you while you gave him everything you had. Your moans became breathless, pleasure twisting in your gut until you were letting out high pitch sounds that were music to his ears. The way your walls clamped down around him was addictive. Each and every second you used him to chase that high, he was convinced your death grip sent him to heaven. His one and only taste of a place people like him don’t belong.
He saw the light and before he could stop it, or warn you at the least, he released. Thick, creamy, loads of warm cum sprayed your cervix and your body shuddered.
Your rhythm faltered and his hands smoothed down, a vicious grip to your hips that forced your body to keep going. Fucking his seed deeper with a smile on his face. One that was wide, toothy. A look so warm, and usually reserved for your little girl, but right now he was drunk on you. Star struck by the sensations you created with such simplicity.
“That was so much better,” you giggled, kissing his face cheek to cheek.
Your little girl has never squealed so loud, and admittedly, you were a little jealous. She rushed out the daycare doors to him. Right past you, no need to say goodbye to her teachers or friends, daddy was there and no one else existed.
“Hello to you too,” you huffed, taking her bag, today's art project, and the juice cup with her name on it from the teacher.
Little girl strapped in, daddy behind the wheel, domestic life felt good as a passenger princess.
The music played softly, and she was going off. She talked, the two of you listened. Talk talk talk talk, until she was all talked out. During that time he held your hand. Drove your car like he owned it and kept your fingers hostage with a grip so tight the tips of them were turning blue. Thumb dragging across the skin of your knuckles, circling at your ring finger like you wouldn’t notice something so obvious.
Once he got the both of you home, he locked the car doors as he got out, giving himself just enough time to make it to your side before you were able to unlock it and fling it open yourself. He helped you up and out, a gentle tap to your ass sending you towards the front door, insisting he could manage little girl just fine.
Which of course he did, you don’t get to see it often, but it is a well practiced routine. She helps to unbuckle herself, crawling out and up the tattooed body of quickly formed devotion.
Bag, baby, he stepped inside and quickly began making himself at home.
“You’re not staying?”
His nose curled up, kutte already half stripped off, “huh?”
“We’ve been on one date, you're not staying over with my daughter in the house.”
He opened and closed his mouth three times. You were right, you were making sense, but he still didn’t like it. The way you continue to call her my as if he’s not standing right there. The fact you just gestured to the door like he wasn’t just making himself at home in your sheets less than an hour ago.
Getting put out like the damn dog.
“We’re together.”
“Yes, but I told you I’m not just diving in. Today was great but we still have a lot of things to work out.”
“Fine,” he shrugged his kutte back on and you saw him change, hardening back up into the killer you know best. Tone dark, indisputable. “I want fifty-fifty till then.”
You choked on air, tapping your chest absolutely stunned. “You’re not serious?”
He shrugged like it was nothing. No big deal asking for you to restructure her whole life to include him, it is already halfway done. “You said we’d work it out.”
“Yeah I meant like, getting to know each other, letting you pick her up from school by yourself. Not split custody! She’s not even y-”
“Stop saying that shit.”
“Happy-”
“This shit ain’t a game.”
“No, it’s not!” You barked, stabbing his attitude with a vicious glare until he sat down and shut the hell up. “She is my child, Happy. Raising her is the single most important thing I will ever do and if we’re really doing this, we have to do it right.”
“I’m trying to.”
“I know,” you tension you were holding dropped, head landing in your hands. You sat there quietly for a moment, rubbing your face, thinking it over. Each breath putting you back to somewhere levelheaded and calm. “You’re amazing with her, and I see you trying to take this seriously, but club life is so unpredictable and the risk-”
“We’re done hauling, working on getting out of guns next, that's what all this shit going on has been about.”
Your heart stopped, your breathing caught, and your mouth gaped open. Legitimizing the club would solve a plethora of issues. Limits risk, danger, the possibility of baggage reaching your doorstep. All your arguments die right there, because for you it’s not the club. It’s never been the club because for all their faults you love every single one of them. It’s the risks, the unknown, the possibility that one day he won’t come home.
“You shouldn’t have told me that,” you whispered, sizing him up this time. Old ladies do know things. They certainly know more than most, but you’re not an old lady. Not yet. No ring, no crow. Technically, you were just someone's kid. Some guy who died protecting the club you were actively watching fall apart. A club that this man in front of you would kill for, die for too if he had to, and he trusted that with you.
“Did it help?”
You sighed, fighting everything inside you to not immediately say yes.
“We’re not doing fifty-fifty. She lives with me, but you can start coming over for dinner, bedtime, pick her up from daycare when you’re off early. Things like that.”
“Can we bring her on our dates?”
“Dates? Plural?”
“How the hell else am I supposed to get you to marry me?”
“Careful, Happy…it sounds like you’re proposing.”
He looked down at his rings. Mixes of gold and silver, and one more couldn’t hurt. If it makes whatever this is permanent. He wasn’t worried about it, not really, not until you tried to send him home after getting a taste of what it’s like to have it all.
“I know what I want. Life’s slowing down, I’ve got the time for her, for you.”
“And you want this?” You gestured to the mess that was your life. Chaos at every corner. Dirty laundry piled high, clean laundry that you’ll never get around to folding without someone there to force your hand. Dishes in the sink, empty pizza boxes on the stove. Her toys like trip hazards covering every square inch of the living room floor, and the obnoxious sound of Mrs Rachel keeping her mesmerized at the center of it all.
“Get your fucking ears checked.”
You huffed, lighthearted, too amused to hide your body relaxing despite how rough his tone just came out. “Fine.”
He cocked a brow, and you moved, putting yourself right in his lap, “you can stay.”
Series Master
see ml for info - standard soa warnings apply
today's your birthday btw....so...happy birthday...
Family only. Jax swore, Gemma crossed her heart. You should’ve known better because if they’re wearing leather, they are family. Bikes lined the road outside Jax’s home. Faces you knew well in a smoke circle waiting for you out front. Tig was the first to toss his cigarette, making for your car like a man on a mission. Strict orders from the queen herself not to let you leave.
“Happy birthday mama,” he cheered, swinging open your back door like it was routine. “How’s our baby girl,” he cooed, unbuckling his favorite little lady.
“This wasn’t supposed to be a party.”
“Take it up with Gem doll,” he chuckled, taking his hostage to the group of men lighting up like Christmas trees. She babbled happily with her hello to them all. Smacking cheeks, pulling beards, wiggling like a worm until her shoes were on the ground.
You lingered in your car for a few minutes, waiting for the other shoe. You considered driving off. Letting her be the center of attention for the day and taking the baby free time for yourself, but instead you cut the engine. Thumped your head against your steering wheel just as Bobby took the liberty of opening your door for you.
“You really thought you’d get away without a party? In this family?” he chuckled, hand open and waiting.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” you sighed, accepting his help begrudgingly.
It started with clapping. Then came the hooting and hollering. It wasn’t just redwood either, that would be too easy. You saw Tacoma and Reno patches too. It was like the club's mother did a mass invite to her entire leather coated contact list. Rushing through hugs and well wishes, you fought to catch up to your baby breaching the door of her uncle's house.
She stumbled over the threshold with a hug, ran right by grandma, and straight to him.
He, who arrived early. He, who got wrapped into helping set up the party you obviously wanted no part in. He, who regretted his choices the moment he arrived until she came barreling towards him, connecting to his shin with a thud.
“Dada,” your baby squealed, bouncing on her toes in front of him like she won a damn prize.
It’s official, you should’ve left. You should’ve left and taken her with you. Hell you shouldn’t even have parked. You choke on air. A sharp inhale of your own spit sent you into a heave. Steps stuttering forward, backward, tapping your chest trying to get air in to speak. “I, she, we, I”
“Isn’t that sweet,” Gemma grinned, ear to ear while patting your back gently to coax you through it.
Happy kept his face stone cold but his whole body felt like he was on the edge of collapse. Molten lava rushing through his veins with each throb in his chest. He looked down, head hung from his shoulders he was met with the brighter, wider, love filled version of your eyes.
“Dada!” She squealed again, hands up grabbing at air. His hands twitched, a micromovement no one saw because you swooped in and rained on his parade.
“No, nope,” you gasped, snatching her up like her life depended on it, “sorry, sorry about that! She likes you, clearly...” Your voice trailed off with your rush, in search of Jax, who you yanked by the ear into a private scolding. “Are you actually joking me dude!” You hissed slamming he and Tara’s bedroom door harsh enough to shake the paintings on the walls. “Just a little get together, this? This is a little get together? The whole fucking club is out there!”
“Take it up with mom,” he chuckled, taking your baby from your hip with a faux look of surprise.
“You take it up with mom! She’s your mother! I have the luxury of not knowing mine!”
“You really shouldn’t say things like that in front of her.” He kissed her little hands that were smushing into his face, pinching at his nose and cheeks.
“Oh fuck off!” Your little girl's eyes tripled. She had no idea what you said, really, but your tone surprised the hell out of her. “I didn’t want a party.”
“Knock knock,” Gemma chimed, opening the door to the scene of you ready to double over, "we can all hear you, just so you know.”
“I don’t want a party!” You hollered for the whole house to hear. Yelling returned in the form of “too damn bad” from the crowd waiting for their turn with your little princess. You sucked in a breath, followed by a huff and a puff before you were collecting yourself in the bedroom mirror. “You both suck.”
“Come on sweetheart, we all need a boost, a reason to unwind,” Gemma said, far too chirper while she fixed your hair, “with this turn out and some luck we’ll finally get you an old man.”
Mama Gemma, always on the let’s get you hitched train. She lives in a world that requires men, your dad raised you in a way that ensured you didn’t. It was the absolute last thing on your mind but even so, Gemma is always circling with wedding bells in mind. She can’t be Queen forever she always says, and who better than to take her place than you?
“I don’t want an old man,” you groaned, falling back on the bed next to Jax, “all I wanted was a piece of cake!” Your baby dove to the left, crawling over top of you, sticking her finger right up your nose.
“That much we can manage.” Jax chuckled, hand patting your thigh supportively. A plan of his own weaving into place just out the door.
You caved to the needs of the club like always, a part of them woven into your DNA. You made the rounds, let them sing at an obnoxiously loud volume, but you spent most of the day outside. Using the fresh air to keep your head level with the overwhelming amount of attention being sent your way.
Gemma was circling like a shark. Gesturing to the single men, far from subtly. She introduced a few, never failing to mention the legend that was your father while doing so. As a gift to your sanity, Jax was never far behind. Always rescuing you from hungry eyes and dull conversation.
Happy did what he always does. Beer in one hand, smoke in the other, sat in a corner out back like a guardian statue. Only he wasn’t alone this time, not for more than five minutes. Wobbly steps kept veering outside to the left. Giggling her way towards him as fast as her legs could carry her. He put out his joint each time, and after the third, he stopped lighting it all together. But you were never far, no. You circled to the backyard before she ever had a chance to get close. Calling her name when she started babbling out the word “dada” and redirected her with sugary bites of cake to keep her close.
You tried to understand it. All afternoon you were taking a page from his playbook and glancing his way as often as you could. Partially to keep your little girl clear of his personal space, and partially to try and see what she sees. It would be weird for your daughter to call Jax daddy but it would make more sense at least. If she’s not with you, she’s with them. Able and Thomas using the word freely might encourage her to do that same, but she had fixated on him. She all but decided this man meant something to her, that she knew him better than you did.
He didn’t move all evening, you noticed. He sat in the furthest corner where two old lawn chairs were permanent fixtures. One beer, all evening. He nursed just one. You saw him grin, always at her approach, but he corrected himself the second he felt your gaze.
A heavy hand found your back, warm breath leaning in for a whisper. “You’re staring,” Jax said, passing you a fresh bottle of water from the cooler.
“I’m not, I’m not staring!” You whisper yelled, snapping your head around to see if anyone else saw you. “I’m…watching out for my little monster.”
“She likes him.”
“I’ve noticed,” you sighed, “it’s weird.”
“It’s sweet,” he corrected, arms crossed, the grin that screamed trouble.
“No. No, Jax I’m serious,” you slugged his arm, hard, “mom keeps trying to set me up with Juice and I’d love it if you didn’t join the get me hitched train.” You turned for a view of the yard and there she was. Tripping out of the threshold to Jax and Tara’s home, a smile on her face, gaze locked on him. She was rushing, the look in her eye that was the absolute definition of trouble. She knew she should be inside with her cousins and coloring book, but there she went. Mischief fueling her body barreling his way. He grinned again, a real one this time. Not something to hide or fight.
He saw her long before you did. She tip-toed to the backdoor first. Peeked out and looked both ways, searching for you. When she found you, busy talking across the lawn, she grinned. The little devil on her shoulder spoke and she bolted. Ran to his private corner with her arms flailing, but your superpower kicked in and your head snapped towards her.
“Come on babe, leave him alone.”
“She ain’t bothering me.” His knees spread, arms open to accept the little lady that looked like she was on the verge of a sugar crash. She let out a little giggle that trailed into a big yawn, all that running back and forth sneaking up on her as she made a home of his lap.
You left Jax in the dust, talking with your hands, searching for an out of the disaster of your own making. “Oh, sorry, I don’t mean to offend you, I just-”
“I know,” he cut in, sharp as a knife, “but you should know you don’t gotta be scared of me.”
“I’m not scared.” You stated it as an absolute matter of fact. You could take him. Maybe not, but you like to think so. If your life depended on it, your dad made sure you could put up a hell of a fight, but leather wasn’t a threat. There had never been an ounce of fear in your body when it came to these men but for some reason, you see him and you tense. You go out of your way to stay out of his way. “I just don’t want her to make you uncomfortable.”
His nose twitched up, an effort to keep his face in check. As odd as it may seem, he likes kids. They make sense to him. They’re simple creatures with simple needs. Eat, poop, cry, repeat. Sugar fixes everything, and when their eyes get droopy the way hers are now, all they need is someone to hold them. You observed his wheels turning but he didn’t say a word while she weasled her way up him like a jungle gym. You took a careful step forward, knees giving to the open seat beside them, eyes softening to the sight of her nuzzled in like he was her favorite stuffy.
“She don’t got a dad?”
That's Happy. Blunt, exact, little room for imagination. It seemed like a dumb question, she was always with you, Jax, or Grandma, but she had to have learned that word from somewhere. Able and Thomas was the simple answer. Always yelling for their daddy and confusing the little lady who didn’t have one.
“No,” you mused, almost blissful with your answer, “it’s just us.” You leaned in closer, bracing yourself on the arm of your lawn chair to tuck her hair out of her face. She snuggled into him further when your hand drifted to her back, applying soothing circles. “I’m sorry about earlier, she’s just playing with that word a lot right now.” You were trying to squash it, the awkward tension you swore existed, but he didn’t feel it. He knew that was a lie, you knew it too, and worst of all it even sounded like a shitty excuse rolling off your tongue. He didn’t acknowledge you, didn’t move, didn’t blink. His eyes were busy watching hers. Slow blinking orbs with her hands gripped tight on the fabric of his dark grey hoodie. “I’m surprised she’s so taken by you,” you said softly, continuing the gentle touch that was pushing her right over the edge of nap time. That one was true, words worth his time.
“I like it,” his voice was low for her sake, raspy in a way that made you tingle from head to toe.
“Yeah,” you whispered, more focused on her than his reaction. Truth slipping off your tongue before you could stop it, “it’s kinda sweet.” The statement was more for yourself than him but he took it. Absorbed it with a big breath in, stored it away for safe keeping by the time his exhale fanned across her cheeks. He could’ve acknowledged that one. He wanted to, really. To agree with you, to ask more questions too, but eyes were on the three of you. Glances being stolen from every direction kept him silent, still.
“Was that your idea?” Gemma asked, sneaking up behind Jax watching the two of you from a distance. He didn’t answer, just took a long drag off his smoke in response. “It’s a good one,” she added with a loving swirl to his back on her way by.
Between you and Happy, sleep came easy. He held her tight, you patted her back gently, and before either of you realized it she was snoring. A little string of drool creating a wet spot on his chest.
“I can take her now,” you moved forward but he moved further into his chair.
“I said you ain’t bothering me.”
“There’s a crib inside, and she’s drool-”
“She’s fine,” he insisted, no room to negotiate like he was the one in charge. Your head flinched back but you didn’t correct him. Moving her could wake her, and your velcro baby does sleep better draped over a warm body. Nap time is essential to your mental health, so you just fixed her sweater, brushed your hand across her cheek before settling back in your chair. He glanced around the backyard, double checking that everyone had finally started to mind their own business. “Happy birthday,” he offered, beady eyes straight forward.
Your head flung back in his direction, “oh,” your voice was small, coated in shock like you forgot the event all together, “thank you.”
“You like coffee?”
“I, coffee? Yeah, I’m a mom so I kinda have to like coffee.”
“We can go.”
“We can go?” You echoed, question evident in your tone. His eyes flick to you, stone cold expression but somehow, it answered the question. “Oh, oh,” you squeaked, fighting for your life to stay calm, quiet, avoid turning any heads this way so neither of you died from the embarrassment of it all. “Um, thank you, that’s nice… nice of you, but I don’t actually, I don’t date. I don’t date members specifically but in general I don’t, I don’t really date.” His nose twitched again, wrinkled all the way up as his gaze searched the backyard for blue. Like clockwork, Jackson fucking Teller. His president, grinning like a fool and watching him fumble. You saw the murderous expression take over and you squirmed, a little bubble in your gut that suggested you try to smooth it over. “Just ask Juice, poor guy has asked me out easily a dozen-”
“Forget it.”
“I’m flattered, Happy, really, I-” His harsh grunt cut you off, causing you to swallow the babble that would only make him feel like more of an idiot. You saw him shift and immediately assumed the worst. He was entertaining her, with the hope of entertaining you. Go figure. “I can take her now if that’s why-”
“It’s not.”
“Right,” you sighed, that weight he dropped slowly lifting off your chest when all he did was readjust her to keep her from getting a kink in her neck.
He held her for two hours, readjusting her here and there to keep her comfortable. You came and went. You didn’t want to leave her there, but you didn’t want to crowd him after he shut down. The awkward silence was real enough to touch and you wanted as little time spent in the thick of it as possible.
He immediately turned off any thoughts he may have had about you. You, too damn young to have even considered it, you. Soft laugh, sweet smile, loving gaze circling his way. He quickly realized he was in too deep already. His attempts to put it out of his mind entirely failed the more his hardened gaze bounced between the two of you. Picking apart every gorgeous feature she got from you. He trailed a thick finger around the curve of her ear, down her nose, blinking around the space to make sure no one was watching.
You stayed close, aware, but you didn’t let your stare linger. In the oddest turn of events, you gave space. You found yourself distracted with awkward conversations. Tacoma, Reno, and a few stranglers without a patch too. Dirty old men making the rounds. Birthday wishes, unoriginal pick-up lines. You found yourself missing the awkward silence, because as tense as it was, it felt safe. Happy didn't look at you like a piece of meat, he looked at you the same way he looked at her. Soft around the edges, warm at the center.
When her eyes opened, the first thing she did was giggle. You heard it across the lawn and turned. She smushed her nose into his and Happy just let it happen. Her tiny hands gripped his ears, and she hadn’t blinked once before she was spewing words that meant nothing. You didn’t have the same rush as before, no panic or rush. Just slow leisurely steps towards their private world. You coaxed her out of the corner with her juice cup, and thanked him, a real one this time for being so good to her. Smile brighter, eyes wider, heat visibly spreading across your cheeks.
As the sunset, the club was slowly trickling out. Gemma was cleaning up, and you were finally having a moment. No one was looking at your ass, or trying to talk to your daughter just because it got them a closer look at your rack.
Happy, having the habit of being the last one out, went looking for a better view. To do so he had to leave the safety of his private corner. Stalking up behind his president with half a mind to take him out by the knees.
“You set me up.”
“I had to see if you were serious.” Jax shrugged, passing him the joint he was puffing on.
He took a long drag and passed it back. “I’m not interested.”
“Oh yeah you are,” Jax laughed, patting his back, “I don’t blame you bro, it’s impossible not to fall in love with that face.” His eyes were on the little lady, but Happy?
His eyes were on you. The same face she wore, but tried. Trying so hard to keep your smile big and bright for her. Dancing playfully, spinning until you were both dizzy and giggling. Stealing kisses, and biting at her hands when they came to squeeze your cheeks. It was a hell of a picture, and the happiest you looked all day.
“She don’t date members.”
“No, but most members don’t have her two foot menace on their side.”
“I ain’t using her kid to get laid.”
“It won’t be easy brother,” Jax chuckled, watching Happy watch you, “but if it was just about gettin’ laid we wouldn’t be talking.” Happy’s gaze broke off for a heartbeat and a half. Shooting Jax a vicious glare that was with a blink for the preferred view of your makeshift dance party. “Just keep doing what you’re doing,” Jax grinned, being the only person left in this world who knows you better than you do, “it’ll happen.” He handed Happy the last of his joint, pep in his step to usher out the last of your dying party.
Baby bag repacked, to go box piled high with leftover cake, thank you exchanged to the hosts, kisses and hugs goodbye for the family that was left. Happy slipping out the front door before you had a chance to notice him at all.
Weight visibly fell off your shoulders the second the front door closed behind you. You took a breath, a real one finally. Lung filling, brain calming, placing her down on the ground with your eyes pinched shut. She squealed and your eyes shot open, then up.
As handsome as the devil could be, fingers hooked in his jeans, posted up on your hood like he owned your frankenstein style sedan.
“Bye bye,” she said, stumbling over her own feet to hug his leg. His hand rested against her head, he didn’t even have to bend over to reach her. He pet her hair softly, and her full lashes fluttered up.
She looked at him like he was worth something, worth the love that swirled her irises clear as day, and it melted him. He dropped down with a click to his knees, grinning like a fool.
“You be good for your mom,” he rasped, brushing his thumb over the lipstick stain Gemma left behind on her cheek.
“Otay dada,” she nodded, sureness in every half baked word.
“Okayyyyy,” you dragged, coaxing her back from him and back towards the car. “Let’s get you buckled,” you helped her up and in, doing your best to wrangle her into the straps but she just kept looking over you. Doing everything in her power to keep him in her sights.
You finally looped one of her arms into the strap and off went her wild mind. “Dada do it?”
Your head hung from your shoulders. You had not a clue how to get her past this mess, and in a mix of exhaustion and annoyance, you cracked. “His name is Happy sweetheart, he’s not-”
“I can do it.”
He couldn’t let you tell her that. Absolutely not. She needed a dad, and she wanted him. Pure heart, pure mind, a sharp contrast to everything he prides himself on. She saw something in him, claimed him with a death to his jeans and there was no turning back now. You might not be interested, and that’s all well and good. He’s not exactly a gentleman, but he can take a no in stride. He would respect your choice, but he had all intentions of respecting hers too.
You huffed, looking at her, who was looking over your shoulder happily. Bright eyed and grabbing at air. “Yeah okay, Happy can do it.” You inched yourself out of his way but stayed close. Watched thick fingers fumble with her buckles, but he did everything right. He was careful with the bottom, taking extra care not to clip her thigh. He made sure the chest piece was centered just as it should be, and pinched her nose goodbye. “Thank you again, for humoring her,” you muttered while he closed the door. Firm to make sure the door clicked, but soft enough it wasn’t a slam that could spook her.
He smiled at her through the window, such a rare sight that made your stomach sink. He tapped the glass playfully, just before blinking back to reality. It was like night and day. He didn’t offer you anything more than a nod and a soft grunt to pair. Stepped out of your way, but he did open your door. Quick, efficient, followed by his silent retreat.
general taglist: @vaugarkel @coffeedreaminanreadin @anonymouse1807 @bonni-98
if you want to be added/deleted just lmk
my main master
p.s if you copy my work or feed my work to ai i'll track you down and kill you myself
Newest story and second SOA story. I recently did a rewatch of SOA and fell in love with Chibs. I wanted to write him a happy story.
Chapters: 9/9
Fandom: Sons of Anarchy
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Relationships: Chibs Telford/Original Female Character(s), Chibs Telford/Original Character(s)
Characters: Chibs Telford, Filip Telford, Jax Teller, Gemma Teller Morrow, Juice Ortiz, Tara Knowles, Opie Winston, Fiona Larkin, Tig Trager
Additional Tags: Sons of Anarchy is Its Own Warning, Inspired by Sons of Anarchy, Not Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Behavior, Fluff and Angst, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Loss of Virginity, Grinding, True Love’s Kiss, Hand Kisses, Masturbation, True Love, Domestic Fluff, SAMCRO - Freeform, SAMCRO (Sons of Anarchy) - Freeform, SAMBEL (Sons of Anarchy), Kidnapping
Summary:
Roslin Stewart is the charge nurse for the ICU at St Thomas and she had only meant to stay in Charming for a year when Filip “Chibs” Telford became a patient in her unit. What follows is their love story and life within Charming and the club. The ending isn’t canon compliant - I wanted safe and happy ending for the couple.
Intimacy is not just physical closeness; it is the foundation of emotional safety in a relationship. It is the ability to be seen, heard, and understood without fear of judgment. True intimacy is built in silence, in honest conversations, and in shared vulnerability. It strengthens trust and transforms connection into something deeply meaningful.
When intimacy is present, communication becomes more open and conflicts become easier to navigate. It allows two individuals to grow together while still being fully themselves. Without intimacy, even love can feel distant; with it, even simplicity feels complete.
Because real connection is not just about being together, but truly being present for each other.
Summary: After a lot of broken promises Y/n decides to get out of and leave Charming and California for that matter. Needing some space and time to heal her heart she heads to New York to stay with some friends. New York might just be her new home. While there she finds an unexpected romance that just feels like its meant to be, with a man in a very similar world as the one she grew up in. New friends that feel like family. Sure there's some ups and downs, shoot outs, break ins, a fast moving relationship, rival Mob’s and a kidnapping. But they’ll navigate it together.
Characters
Series Taglist
Puppys Name Sake
Chapters :
Chapter 1
~ Saying goodbye to Charming is hard but Y/n needs a fresh start away from a certain blue eyed blonde biker.
Chapter 2
~ Y/n explores the city and meet's up with some old friends.
Chapter 3
~ Y/n has a run in with the most powerful Mob boss in Brooklyn. But she doesn't know that's who she goes to have a drink with.
Chapter 4
~ Y/n and Bucky go on a date. A fancy date, it goes well but Bucky has some worries at the end of the night.
Chapter 5
~ 3rd date in a row Bucky has something less extravagant planned. Something he feels would be more Y/n's speed.
Chapter 6
~ Bucky confides in Steve and Sam all the while Y/n confides in Wanda.
Chapter 7
~ Bucky get's introduced to Wanda and Pietro. Y/n and Bucky have a heart to heart.
Chapter 8
~ Bucky introduces Y/n to Steve and Sam.
Chapter 9
~ Bucky asks Y/n to be his date to an upcoming event, and get's her something custom for it.
Chapter 10
~ It's moving day into her own apartment for Y/n but there's bigger news. Her brother's coming to visit.
Chapter 11
~ Opie want's to meet this guy his little sister is dating. While Opie's here Bucky want's to meet him to.
Chapter 12
~ Bucky come's over to help Opie, and they have some one-on-one talk. It's Gala time. Time to show Y/n some more of the people Bucky knows. But Y/n might have figured out Bucky's secret.
Chapter 13
~ After the shootout Bucky take's Y/n back to his home. Where the two get to know one another on a deeper level. And they both discuss deeper the world's they live in.
Chapter 14
~ Y/n stays a little longer at Bucky's. A ground rule about secrets is established. When Y/n goes home Bucky has a big surprise for her.
Chapter 15
~ Time for halloween. Wanda and Pietro meet Moxley, Puppy shots are due, lunch with Bucky is nice, watch some movies, hand out candy, oh and a break in happens.
Chapter 16
~ After the break in Bucky would like to show Y/n some weapons and how to use them so his mind could be at ease. . , Y/n grew up in Samcro. Bucky's underestimating her.
Chapter 17
~ Girls Night, Guys Night, Video Call with Opie, and Thanksgiving.
Chapter 18
~ Christmas in Charming. Bucky meets Samcro. . . he meets Jax.
Chapter 19 (Not Typed yet / December new years eve)
more coming...
(All chapters shown above are done and in my queue, & currently writing more)
Get Over It - part 12 - wrd 2k (ish)
previous | next
Series Master List - see ML for warnings and info
It was equally the longest and best night. Worthy of a calendar marking at this rate. It was nothing special, really. Rough hands making a conscious effort to remain decent. Something childlike by design playing softly on the tv. Nothing out of the ordinary, besides her using his lap like a throne. His queen, hair a wet mess, watermelon sugar scent sweeter than candy. A tease in every sense of the word but he did like her best that way. He watched her like it was his one and only job. Her breathing, nose wrinkling, eyes busy under her lids with a dream that made her grin twice. He relished the feeling of her hand moving against his cheek even in sleep, wondering what had her subconscious so busy. She didn’t even flinch when his phone rang at five, so he cradled her till six. Rocking in the oversized lazy boy and enjoying the view of the sun slowly pulling up the horizon, a soft orange glow illuminating the living space. Golden rays warm against her skin and all it did was put her closer. Face nuzzling into his neck to hide from it, unconscious kisses against his pulse that made it spike.
She woke up tucked under that ridiculously fluffy blanket. Alone with the memory of his gentle touch, his too easy smile, the mixed scent of her sugar and his spice. The atmosphere felt weighted, but she did it to herself. Crawled into his lap like she belonged there and now the house was too quiet, and her head was too loud.
She’s had lump in throat since noon. What would Phil say? Did she give in too easy? Would this tarnish his legacy, or could it honor it? He liked Happy, trusted him. Could she? What happens when the game of cat and mouse is over? What if he gets bored? Changes his mind? Realizes all that effort just wasn’t worth it?
Twelve hours later and she was pacing, panicking, reconsidering. She knew what she wanted, but also knew it wasn’t that simple. Complicated was an understatement. Feelings were complex, fear was overwhelming, need had rearranged every single thing she thought she knew. Her life had been a series of unfortunate events. A series of things happening to her, decisions being made for her. Happy was a circumstance of her brothers choices, but that was before she knew him. The side of himself he hides, the deeper parts he didn’t even know he had. Never giving in or giving up because he was all she had left, and he knew that as well as she did now. She scrambled when she heard his engine. Thoughts barely in order, final in her decision as terrifying as it may be.
“Something up?” He asked before he had even closed the front door. Her posture was tight, her lips were swollen from being gnawed at for hours. Her eyes were too big, too blue, too damn glossy for comfort. Fuck no, he thought. Not again. He’s done waiting. Done respecting boundaries and taking her no’s in stride. If this is a break up, he might just kill her because at this point if he can’t have her, no one can. She shifted from one leg to the other, watching the leather shrug off his shoulders at the door, keys dropping in the bowl next to hers.
“I have conditions,” she stated, fingers drumming on the paperwork she put together. A hefty stack of pages, mostly a joke but it certainly helped her gain some clarity at a minimum.
There was a beat of silence while he tried to make out what was happening. It looked like a break up, like a damn divorce with that stack of papers on the table. “Conditions?”
“You want us to be together, right?” She asked, holding her chuckle when his head flung into a nod, “okay well, I have conditions.” She gestured to his chair at the head of the table. It dragged out slow like nails on a chalkboard, gaze locked on hers. Intense, but incredibly warm.
It made her squirm, positioned directly across from him like it was a formal business meeting, smoothing the papers she had flipped through a dozen times over at this point. “Number one,” she said, fighting everything inside her not to break character opening the packet of legal lingo that was pieced together by YouTube research and Google. She knew it was ridiculous, but he sat still. Humoring her just enough to get to the part where he fucks her dumb across the table.
“Cheating, absolutely nonnegotiable.” Baby pink polish pointed right at the number one rule, bolded and underlined on the page with a bright yellow sticky tab to catch his attention. “No more getting your dick sucked on a run, no croweaters or porn stars, no professional escorts just because it’s free and easy. If you get bored, you tell me.”
He blinked, unamused, unmoved, staring at her like she was a fool. Loyalty came easy to him, but sure, faithfulness was new. He wasn't concerned, but she was trembling. She tried to keep her nerves to herself. Fought like hell to keep up the fight a little longer but even with her palm flat against the pages the shake trailed up her arm, rattling her where she sat. He didn't dignify the question with verbal confirmation, instead he reached out. Hand resting on hers for a moment before turning the page himself. “Okay," she breathed, "now, if it doesn’t wo-”
He retreated back into his chair. Knees spread, shoulders back, nose twitched a single time to correct his softened expression. “It’ll work.”
“If it doesn’t, we find a way to be friends. You’re the only family I have now.”
A twinge of something new flooded his chest. A feeling that made him feel hot and cold all at once. It made him want to move, get closer, but he didn’t. He maintained his post, a simple nod to satisfy the question that seemed just as stupid as the first. There was not a single universe in which he would let her go now, and he had no intention of being her friend.
She took in a full breath, the first little bit of calmness making an appearance with her exhale. “Good…next would be no kids.”
His eyebrows pinched together in the center, his whole face searching hers for the lie. He didn’t say anything, but his face did. Glancing up and down. Her, then the pages, back up to her again. He’s seen her kiss booboos and bandage up paper cuts. The love in her eyes when Thomas snuggles against her chest, a smile that reaches her eyes when Able holds her hand just to cross the parking lot at TM. Her career begins and ends with children. It was the first thing he had to choke down when the idea of being with her wormed into his skull. He couldn’t fight for something he didn’t want, but he couldn’t understand where this came from either.
“I know you don’t want them, and I…” Her eyes went everywhere but his. She’s pictured it a dozen or so times. Even last night her head was running wild with dreams of his carbon copy. His face but younger, brighter. His eyes, always. Her curls, his ears, her nose but his grin. Hopefully the Lowman gene that would let them get a good tan all year round. That's all it ever could be, a dream. She was choosing this life, but she couldn't possibly bring a baby into the chaos. It was one or the other, and if she had to choose, it was him. “I think it’s better if it stays just us, might as well decide now so we don’t fight about it later.” She shrugged, but he wasn’t convinced. Her smile didn’t come easy, it was barely there. He could’ve pressed, negotiated, found a middle ground that made sense for them both.
He wanted her to have everything, but the last thing he wanted was a kid.
He listened close to the outline of listed options to prevent it. She’s on it, but birth control is not exactly perfect. He could get a vasectomy, to which he audibly scoffed. She mentioned condoms but he scoffed at that too. She wasn’t willing to tie her tubes, as mentioned in section C. She went back and forth with his grunts and grumbling for twenty minutes before rolling her eyes. He was pretty sure he was infertile due to a variety of reasons. The bike, the life, his age, but she knew better. He knew the risk, but he knew her schedule too. She takes that little pill every day down to the minute. That was good enough for him.
There were a few silly ones obviously designed to lighten the mood. The brief mentions of him never being allowed to yell when she brought home stray animals was an easy yes. Opal needs a sister, she had said. It was enough to crack the stone wall he was trying to be and made his shoulders bounce in a silent chuckle. A few more points followed that were creative language, all mostly reiterated rule number one that shut him back down into a hunk of stone. He watched her, trying to sort out how to get that fear out of her. If loving it out of her could work, it'd be long gone. Time, he thought. Just give me the time. He wasn’t subtle when it came to her, but neither was she. Every requirement she rattled off, he knew. She knows what she wants, what she doesn’t, and has never once been scared to make that clear. If he wanted sex, he knew where to find it. He wanted a home, a life, her.
“This one is important too,” she tapped the space in front of her to make sure he was actually listening, pointing to the next one. “You are not allowed to get arrested again, I will not be dating an inmate.” He finally looked down. His gaze bounced up and down. Her and her smug grin, and a printout of his most recent mugshot doodled with their name in cursive. Hearts with arrows, sparkly stickers to poke fun. She thought it was a masterpiece, but he wanted to crumble it and toss it at her head. Her wording on who he is right underneath it caught his eye. A protector, loyal to a fault, so secretly loving, but a killer. A fact she never once confirmed out loud, and it was nowhere in her stack of goofy papers, but he knew what she meant.
He’s older, stuck in his ways, and his reputation says everything. He’s not in the club, he is the club. He lives and breathes samcro. The lifestyle, the hard choices, the blood. She can't be that, she never would be able to bend that far. She understood the club came first, it was one of the hardest parts to get over, but all she asked was he consider her when making decisions that could affect them both. All of it boiled down to the last, but certainly not least.
“Absolutely no lies,” she sighed, closing the packet and pushing it towards him. “You need to tell me everything, the good the bad the ugly, I don’t ever want to be caught off guard by something you thought I couldn’t handle.” There was a beat of silence, his too wide eyes watching her every move. She shifted, hands reaching across the table, toying with his chunky gold ring. “You can be vicious, cruel even, but you have to come home. I’m okay with whatever you need to do to get here in one piece.”
“That everything?”
“Yes, but I-” He snapped like a heavy branch in a storm. The chair launched out from behind him as he rushed to take her because every ask was doable. Some would take some getting used to, but for her…he could be honest, loyal, extra careful to avoid ever being without her. “No no no!” she squealed, rushing herself to her feet and far out of reach, “not yet, you need to think about this.”
“Done that.”
“Not like this. I want to be yours Happy, but you have to be mine. Just mine.”
“I want that.” In two steps he was crowding her, walking back until she was pressed between him and the wall of her dining room. Her hips rolled outward, jean brushing against jean, her body responding to him like a symptom of Stockholm Syndrome.
“You’d be giving up a lot for me.”
“I’ll get over it.” He dove, lips first but she dodged. Quick, efficient, letting him kiss her cheek at least.
“Take a few days,” hand flat against his chest she pushed him back a step, “I’m serious… I need you to be absolutely sure because I do not want my heart broken by you.”
“I said I ain’t like that.”
“I believe you…" she sighed, her heavy hand gliding up cotton until cool soft skin was rested at the warm base of his neck, "but you’re used to living in a world I can’t ever give you, I don’t want you to resent me for that.”
If there was a way to let her inside his head for a day, he would. Let her see all the horrors taking a back seat for this pretty pink view. Maybe then she could see how absolutely taken he is. He didn’t need to sleep on it, he didn’t need the few days either, but he considered maybe she did. It was a huge step, finally one heading in the right direction. If she wanted the appearance he was giving it thought, he could do that. He could hold on to his answer. He’s already done it this long.
idk it's just a short bridge to get us to the other side.
p.s. one of my favorite blogs for soa content reblogged the master list for this and I shed a literal tear, shout out to @ravennaortiz for that emotional rollercoaster
p.s.s ilyg for reading my smutless work of art, the spice coming
I'm happy that my Chibs Telford fanfiction "Under the same rain" is going well. Because of this, I gently received a request on Wattpad for another story about him and a young girl. I don't know how many chapters it will have yet, but in the meantime, I'd like to share the first chapter with you, and then the subsequent ones.
Thank you 😶🌫️❣️
Requested by Chcolate_preztel 💌
Chapter 1
The small town of Charming, California, was a blessing for Miel. She had left New York, her brother Thiago and her family, her friends, in search of a better life. It broke her heart to leave Flatbush, the place where she had grown up, where she had gone to school and spent her teenage years. At night she used to leave her signature on subway walls; during the day she worked in a nail salon, saving every dollar she could.
She had many other talents too: target shooting, collecting rare spirits and vinyl records, cooking and baking, cosmetic artistry, interior design, and even motorcycle customization. She was the daughter of immigrants. Her mother was French and taught at a university, while her father was a Puerto Rican auto-body mechanic who had taught her how to put broken things back together.
Following that lesson, she had gathered all the shattered pieces of her heart and kept moving forward. Miel had a sharp, unshakable spirit that allowed her to never bend under extreme hardship. She possessed loyalty, a strong protective instinct toward the people she loved, and a fierce independence. She trusted her instincts and her senses—things that had guided her through life more than once.
Thiago had once been involved in small street operations in Brooklyn with his crew. Later, he tried to get out, becoming an independent entrepreneur in the boxing and MMA gym business—one of his greatest passions. But he owed money to some former members of his crew, and they had threatened Miel and their family.
Thiago had managed to find her some discreet contacts in California so she could escape New York for good. She packed her bags and crossed the country coast to coast in her black 1965 Lincoln Continental. The separation was heartbreaking—devastating. She cried for days while searching for places to stay.
That was when she arrived in Charming.
With help from the town's sheriff, Wayne Unser, she managed to find a temporary rental not too far from the town center. Wayne had shown himself to be immediately helpful. He was a good man, close to retirement. The two quickly became friends, and he became her emergency contact.
Miel found work in a restaurant bakery. She was good at it—she had a strong aesthetic sense. Her dream was to open a beauty salon of her own, run entirely by her, combining it with a space where people could eat and relax.
When she had finally saved enough money, she consulted a real estate agency to transform an abandoned, rundown storefront into her salon.
And she succeeded.
The Gilded Lily was the name of her shop.
She had designed the interior herself, with help from a decorator and an architect. She turned the place into something elegant: dark green walls, parquet floors, marble counters, the scent of orchids in the air, large mirrors, golden accents, and stations for clients. Women especially were drawn to the new place. That shabby-chic style was rare in a small town like Charming.
Week after week, the beauty suite began to fill with customers. Miel couldn't have been happier. Once again, she was building her own world, creating a new independent life.
Soon she even bought a house with a large garden, not far from the salon.
She and her brother wrote letters to each other. It was safer than talking on the phone. She read every single one he sent her each week, and she always found the time to reply.
It still felt unreal that she had built everything she had dreamed of.
She stood there watching her clients while her assistants handled them one by one, still struggling to fully process what was happening.
The entrance of a woman into the salon pulled her out of her thoughts.
A woman stepped inside wearing dark clothes, black hair streaked with blonde, and high heels. That was Gemma Teller and in Charming, no business opened without someone knowing about it.
Miel didn't look up immediately. She was finishing a manicure with surgical precision, hands steady, breathing slow. The vinyl record spinning on the turntable filled the room with soft soul music, something warm, almost hypnotic.
Gemma stopped just inside the doorway. Eyes always evaluating.
«So you're the new owner,» the woman said. It wasn't a question.
«Depends on who's asking.»
«Gemma Teller,» she replied, brushing a strand of hair away from her face with elegant ease.
The name hung in the air. Nothing else needed to be said. In Charming, that name carried weight.
«Miel Straughn.»
They shook hands. Miel's grip was firm. No hesitation. No uncertainty.
«Charming is a small town. Things work a certain way here.»
Miel followed her with her eyes.
«I opened a salon. Not a war,» Miel said dryly.
«Women who come here without understanding how things work... usually don't last long.»
«I stay where I decide to stay. I built all of this with a lot of effort, and I'm certainly not leaving.»
Her voice was calm. Flat. No open challenge but no submission either.
«And who protects you, Miel?»
«I've never needed anyone to do that. But... for now, Sheriff Unser checks in on me sometimes.»
«I like women who can stand on their own two feet. But people survive better here when they understand which side they're on.»
«I'm on my side.»
Gemma studied her for another moment, as if weighing the steel beneath the surface.
«Good. Then I hope you know how heavy it is.»
She turned toward the exit, then paused at the door.
«I'll come by for a treatment. Let's see if your hands are as good as your mouth.»
The door closed, and the salon stayed silent for a few seconds.
One client exhaled softly.
«Who was that?»
Miel returned to her table, carefully arranging her tools again.
«A woman who loves to control everything.»
The girl went back to work without batting an eye.
Gemma had warned the club about the new presence in town, telling them the woman wasn't stupid and that they should keep an eye on her.
Jax, Gemma's son, and Chibs, the club's Sergeant-at-Arms, took the trouble to ride over to the beauty suite.
Their Harleys stopped in front of The Gilded Lily.
Jax stepped in first, removing his sunglasses and glancing around. At that moment he represented the club's official oversight. Tall, blond, good-looking, with a smile that was both dangerous and disarming.
The other man stayed outside for a moment, a silent observer as he finished his cigarette.
«Nice place,» Jax said.
«Thank you. We also offer coffee and pastries for all our clients.»
Jax stepped forward, heavy boots against the polished parquet floor.
«New in town?»
«More or less.»
«Not easy starting from scratch here.»
«I didn't start from scratch.»
Miel tilted her head slightly, a faint smile on her lips.
The door opened again.
Chibs Telford stepped inside without hurry. He removed his sunglasses slowly, his pale eyes sweeping the room quickly—exits, blind spots, clients.
Then they stopped on Miel.
He didn't say anything.
His brown eyes studied the young woman. Hers, instead, lingered on the scar at the corners of his mouth. She immediately wondered what kind of story lay behind that hardened look, the slightly graying hair, and that lethal charm.
«You know, this is just a routine check. We like to know who opens businesses in Charming.»
«Oh... now I understand. Mrs. Gemma is your mother?»
«Yeah. That's right.»
«Well. Like I told her, I opened a beauty suite—not an arms depot.»
Jax chuckled quietly.
«You never know what hides behind a pretty façade,» Chibs added, his sharp Scottish accent cutting through the room.
Miel's gaze slid from Chibs to Jax.
«That goes for everyone around here,» she replied.
Chibs stepped a little closer. Not invasive.
«Where are you from?»
«Brooklyn.»
«That's quite a jump.»
«Distance doesn't scare me. Neither does living in the middle of biker feuds.»
Chibs watched her carefully. He wasn't trying to intimidate her. He was looking for cracks.
«Got family here?»
«No. My three dogs are my family for now.»
«Charming works because there's balance. Everyone plays their part,» Jax said firmly.
«And what's mine?»
«Don't cause problems.»
Miel looked Jax straight in the eye.
«I'm not the one carrying a gun under my jacket.»
Chibs lowered his gaze for a second, catching the detail: she had noticed the weapon. She hadn't ignored it, hadn't reacted.
She had simply registered it.
«And if problems come looking for you?» the Scot asked.
«Then I deal with them. I'm not the type to call the cops.»
«Alright, Brooklyn. Consider this an official welcome,» Jax said, stepping away from the counter.
The bikers headed for the door.
«Nice place, though,» Chibs added.
«Thank you.»
«Welcome to Charming, then.»
They exchanged one last look before the two men returned to their motorcycles and rode away from her shop.
-Link to Wattpad-👇
In the quiet town of Charming, nothing stays hidden for long.
After leaving Brooklyn behind, Miel Straughn rebuilds her life from the ground
im obsessed with your writing but especially your older chibs x younger reader..
first time prompt #7?
title; ready for it (Chibs Telford x fem!reader)
prompt/s; 7) “We don’t have to do this if you’re not ready…” Character B murmurs, and Character A shakes their head, arms only tightening around Character B’s neck. “I’m ready. And I trust you,” Character A says, pulling them down for a kiss by the nape of their neck. — from first time prompts
warnings; unestablished relationship but they’ve been shamelessly flirting/fooling around (everything but sex yk?), age gap (unspecified but chibs is older), virgin!reader, smut, minors do not interact!!!, p in v, unprotected sex + pullout method used, talk of him being allowed to cum inside, dirty talk, he touches her through her underwear at the beginning x, uh she’s wearing a dress (solely for him being a tease to touch her yk), she calls him an old man at the end, allusions to another round, but that’s it?? lmk if i missed any !!! (3,125 words)
a/n; i’ve had an eventful couple of days, but recovering by writing chibs porn ofc x
sin 2k win masterlist | main masterlist
— thank you for joining my sin2kwin celebration || submissions are now closed !!
the club where hosting a party tonight like they usually did, the music loud and thumping, but it didn’t drown him out.
over the music, Chibs’ voice was still low and warm against your ear, sending shivers down your spine and causing the pool of warmth to spread.
his body sheilded yours from the rest of the party, his left hand cradling the back of your head while his right hand lay heavily on your thigh.
he trailed two of his fingers up the centre of your thigh, teasingly dipping under the hem of your dress but not daring go high enough to where you needed him.
“you’re being a tease”
you commented before taking a sip of your drink, trying to ignore the feeling of his fingers gliding across your skin.
“am i?”
Chibs murmured, letting his fingers drift higher before you caught his wrist, stopping his teasing touches while you finally met his eyes.
a smirk was firmly plastered across his face, his eyes filled with a mischievous glint and his fingers continuing to trace shapes into your skin.
“if you want something, use your words Filip”
you told, pushing his hand away again while he chuckled, amusment filling his eyes at the use of his first name.
that was the one thing he let you get away with that others didn’t, you were the only person that was allowed to use his first name, and you didn’t hold back when using it to tease him.
“yer being cheeky, sweetheart”
he murmured lowly against your ear, his fingers still tracing your thigh before moving higher and higher until he moved his fingers across the centre of your underwear.
his smirk returned as you gasped, trying to stifle the noise by taking another sip of your drink but it was useless, his touch was too much to ignore and you both knew it.
“if you want something, if you want me, then say so. i’m not a mind reader”
Chibs hummed at your words, tracing his fingertips along your core with that teasing touch that was quickly flooding your body with heat and need.
“ye want me to say it? listen up then, sweetheart”
you smirked into the rim of your glass as you took another sip, trying to hide your amusement in the glasses rim while his fingers continued to move teasingly.
each pass of his fingers had a moan bubbling in the back of your throat, but you didn’t want to give in to him, not yet anyways.
not to mention that this was a usual occurrence. Chibs would corner you somewhere, most times at the bar like tonight, slip his hand between your legs and play with you as if he was a musician and you were his chosen instrument.
the only issue was that this was as far as your flirting and teasing ever went.
he hadn’t made you finish yet, not that he was trying to anyways. but it had been strictly teasing touches and whispered words, never anything more.
but tonight you were willing to change that.
you turned your head towards him, ignoring the smirk on his face as he clearly felt your wetness soaking the centre of your underwear, before you whispered to him before he could speak.
“do you want more than just this?”
his eyes searched yours at your question, his tongue poking out to wet his lips while his eyes darkened with a mix of want and something you couldn’t quite place.
“ye asking if i want to fuck ye, love?”
Chibs asked, his voice dropping an octave and lust wrapping around each word to bring down his tone.
it was a tell tale sign of his arousal, but you also knew Chibs better than you should by this point. neither of you had truly crossed the line all the way, but you knew all of his signs and needs, just like he did with you.
but the clear bulge in his jeans didn’t help with figuring him out right now.
to answer his question though, you nodded, unable to hold his gaze which earned a low chuckle from him.
the hand he had on the back of your head moved to cradle your jaw, tilting your gaze back to him as he finally spoke again.
“i want nothing more than to fuck ye sweetheart, just need to hear ye say it first”
you gulped at his words, your body flooding with heat and your hips rocking slightly against his fingers.
he hummed at your reaction, moving his fingers on your core back and forth just to hear you gasp before you could answer him.
“i want you.. fuck, i want you Chibs”
his hand moved from your jaw to take hold of one of your hands, easily guiding you through the crowd of people and back into his dorm.
the door was shut with more force than you had expected, but Chibs was on you before you could question it.
Chibs kissed you deeply, both of his hands cradling your face as he dominated the kiss. his tongue pushed into your mouth to move against yours, easily pulling a moan from you in the process.
your hands grabbed at his arms, an attempt to steady yourself as he walked you backwards before getting you down onto the bed
“yer gorgeous, sweetheart”
he murmured, his body shielding yours while he settled between your legs, the bulge straining in his jeans rubbing against your core.
his hips rocked into yours, the teasing motion causing a gasp to fall from your lips before he spoke against your lips.
“ye sure sweetheart?”
you nodded along to his question, moving your hands down his body and towards his belt, eagerly working it open and slipping your hand under his waistband.
a groan fell from Chibs’ lips as your fingers wrapped around his cock, pumping him slowly before he kissed you again and again.
each sound that slipped from his lips went straight to your core, causing a whine to slip from your lips.
but with every groan Chibs let out, a small nagging in the back of your head grew louder and more prominent, until it was too much to ignore.
“before we do this.. i uh, need to tell you something”
Chibs pulled your hand off of him at your words, using his free hand to cradle your face.
“what’s wrong?”
he asked after capturing your lips in another kiss, softer this time, even as the lust continued to simmer between you both.
when you didn’t answer Chibs straight away, his lips pressed to yours again, a soft attempt to push for an answer while you sighed.
“i uh.. i haven’t done this before, more than just teasing touches or giving handjobs..”
you trailed off, heat rushing to your cheeks and a flicker of embarrassment settling in your gut. but Chibs was already leaning in to kiss you again, his hands moving across your body with a newfound gentle touch.
“sweetheart, we don’t have to do this if yer not ready..”
Chibs murmured, but you shook your head, wrapping your arms tight around his neck while pulling him down and into another kiss.
he chuckled against your lips, kissing you again and again until you were whispering against his lips.
“i’m ready, and i trust you”
his eyes searched yours, looking for any sign of discomfort or deceit, but he found none.
instead, your hand grabbed at the back of his neck to pull him into yet another kiss, nipping at his bottom lip before soothing the sting with your tongue.
a giggle slipped from your lips as he gasped, shaking his head in amusement while he shifted above you, making quick work of your clothes until you were lying naked beneath him.
Chibs undressed himself too before settling between your legs again, his left hand on the bed next to your head to hold himself up while his right stroked his cock.
you watched through lust filled eyes as he began moving the head of himself through your wetness, gathering your arousal to help ease his strokes.
“please.. don’t be a tease”
he hummed at your words, carefully ducking his head to capture your lips in another kiss before he slowly began pushing into you.
your lips parted in a gasp, your hands automatically grabbing at his shoulders to steady yourself while Chibs sank inch after inch into your warmth.
his body shifted against yours, his right hand hooking under your knee to pull your leg high around his hip and allow him to sink deeper into you until he bottomed out.
“i’m right here, tell me what ye need”
Chibs murmured between kisses, only earning a small nod in response as you tried to gather your racing thoughts from the overwhelming feeling of Chibs against you.
the space between you was non existent, Chibs’ hips flush against yours while he kissed you again and again, easing you into both the embrace and the new feeling of him inside.
he pressed another kiss to your lips, a lot softer than all of his previous kisses, before he murmured against your lips.
“tell me if it’s too much, okay?”
you nodded in response, but Chibs shook his head, shifting his weight above you and moving his hand from under your knee to cradle your face, gently tilting your eyes up to his.
“words sweetheart”
a whine fell from your lips at his words, your body arching up into his and your legs drawing tight around his waist.
his body moved into yours at the soft pull of your legs, both of your heels digging into the small of his back before you finally found the words to answer his question.
“i’ll tell you, just.. move please”
Chibs hummed at your words, capturing your lips in another kiss while he started to rock his hips in a soft rhythm.
your hands tightened on his shoulders as his hips pulled back, leaving only the head of his cock inside before he pushed back in to continue with a steady pace.
“oh fuck”
you cursed, your head thrown back into the pillows as his lips pressed to yours in another soft kiss.
“i’m right here”
he repeated, grunting into your jaw as your arms and legs tightened around him, clinging to him with another soft moan.
his hand moved to hook under your knee again, pulling your leg high around his hip and allowing him to deepen the angle of his thrusts.
“such a pretty thing”
Chibs commented, smirking to himself as a slew of moans slipped from your lips before the bed creaking beneath you both followed.
the hand he had on your leg held you against him, leaving no room between you, even when his hips pulled back.
another moan slipped from your lips while your fingers tangled in his hair, forcing him down into another kiss and earning a low chuckle from Chibs.
he groaned against your lips as your cunt fluttered around him, causing his rhythm to falter for a minute before he regained his pace.
“that feel good, love?”
his voice had dropped, his usual teasing lilt you had expected no longer found, and now replaced with a softness that had your cunt fluttering around him again.
“feels so good.. so fucking good”
Chibs smirked against your lips, your words music to his ears, along with each needy moan that slipped from your lips in each snap of his hips against yours.
your cunt fluttered again, earning another throaty groan from Chibs as his hips continued in their relentless pace. each snap of his hips filling the room with the steady slapping of skin on skin, synchronising with each moan that fell from your lips.
“yer doin’ so good fer me”
he murmured as you continued to cling to him, your arms tight around his neck as you clung to him like a lifeline.
each thrust Chibs gave pushed you closer and closer, causing your eyes to roll back into your head and the feeling of him becoming overwhelming.
Chibs kissed you again, deep and hungry, while his thrusts continued their relentless pace.
the steady rock of his hips made your walls flutter around his cock again, greedily pulling him in deeper with every thrust, while your head threw itself back in pleasure.
his body shifted against yours again, the head of his cock hitting that one spot that had tingles shooting down your spine and your eyes filling with stars.
“Chibs..”
you whined, quickly breaking into a moan as he continued to drive into you, over and over.
“cum for me sweetheart, i’m right there with ye”
he kissed you again, pushing his tongue into your mouth to move it against yours in time with each thrust he delivered, easily drawing a string of moans from you with a practised ease.
Chibs had this way of making you feel everything all at once, especially when it came to push you over the edge into your orgasm.
each time you’d fooled around and his hand wound up between your thighs, it was only a matter of time before you hit your peak.
so now you knew it’d be no different.
his hips continued to rock into you, his pace unrelenting and the head of his cock hitting that one spot over and over until it became too much.
you moaned beneath him, his name slipping from your lips in a breathless plea before pleasure completely took over your body.
any other words died on your tongue, only managing to focus on the feeling of Chibs and each rhythmic knock of his hips.
“oh fuck..”
the bed creaked beneath you both again as Chibs doubled down on his thrusts, rocking into you with more force and rhythm while you lost yourself in the pleasure.
“that’s it sweetheart, cum fer me like a good girl”
he rocked into you one last time before you crested over the edge and into your orgasm, your cunt spasming around him as you found your peak with another loud moan.
Chibs grunted as your walls clamped down around his cock, causing his rhythm to falter and his own peak to draw closer.
“i’ve got ye”
his lips captured yours in another kiss, unable to stop his smirk as you broke the kiss as your head lulled back in pleasure.
heat burst throughout your body as euphoria filled you whole, unable to focus on Chibs and the way his hips moved against yours in his own attempt to find his orgasm.
the tightness of your cunt around his cock pulled another groan from Chibs, before your release soaked his cock and helped to ease his now rhythmless thrusts.
“ye’ve got me, sweetheart..”
he murmured, shifting his body to rock into you with the remnants of his stamina as he teetered on the edge of his own peak, unable to stop his groans.
“shit..”
Chibs cursed, dropping his forehead to your shoulder but your hands cradled his face, gently tilting his gaze back up to yours and pulling him into another kiss.
his thrusts faltered at the press of your lips against his, unable to stop his groans as your walls rippled sensitively around him.
“take what you need”
you whispered, giggling to yourself as another groan slipped from his lips before he nodded slowly.
he rocked into you again and again, only managing a couple more thrusts before he was following you over the edge and into his own orgasm.
a low groan of your name fell from his lips, his cock throbbing inside you and his thrusts completely uneven.
Chibs rocked into you one last time, waiting until your walls rippled around him again, before he pulled out with a low grunt.
his hand wrapped around his cock, stroking himself over into his own orgasm with another throaty groan.
you moaned beneath him as he spilled himself across your stomach, the heat of it sending tingles shooting through your body and a whine slipping from your lips.
your cunt fluttered around nothing, already missing the feeling of him against and inside you, before Chibs leaned over you to steal yet another kiss.
“such a sweet wee thing”
Chibs kissed you again and again, easily losing himself in the embrace until you pushed lightly at his shoulders, forcing him to break the kiss.
“something wrong?”
he asked, earning a small shake of your head, before his lips were back on yours.
you rolled your eyes at him, but couldn’t help your smile at this side of him that was desperate to kiss you over and over.
but when he finally broke the kiss, he whispered against your lips.
“done so good for me”
his lips pressed to yours in a final kiss before he sat back on his knees, your legs loosely drawn around his waist while his gaze roamed shamelessly across your body.
“you know, if you would’ve asked, i would’ve let you cum inside me”
Chibs groaned again, his eyes darkening with renewed desire while you giggled beneath him, squealing as he leaned into your space with a flicker of mischief in his eyes.
he settled back between your legs, the weight of his cock heavy against your thigh as he whispered back to you.
“yer trouble, ye know that?”
you flashed him an innocent look, moving your hands across his chest and squeezing at his shoulders when he stole another kiss.
“grab a towel and fuck me again? not done with you now that i know what you can do”
the laugh that left him filled your body with warmth and want, your smile bright and mirroring his while he moved off of the bed and into the bathroom, returning after a minute with a damp cloth to clean you up.
mischief still twinkled in his eyes, but it softened when he met your eyes, his body leaning over yours to steal another kiss before he whispered to you.
“cheeky wee thing, gonny make ye feel good even with that mouth on ye”
you giggled against his lips, moving your arms around his neck and crossing your wrists at the back of his head.
“as long as you can keep up, old man”
he shook his head at you, tossing the cloth aside and using both hands to pull your legs around his hips, his body settling between your thighs and his lips pressing to yours in yet another kiss.
Chibs kissed you deeply, causing a moan to fall from your lips and your back to arch up into him as he spoke against your lips.
“watch yer mouth, i’ll show ye what this old man can do”
The makeshift infirmary at the clubhouse had seen its share of bullet wounds and broken ribs—but never a full-blown labor. The Sons cleared out fast, except for Chibs, who hovered like a shadow beside Y/N's makeshift bed, his knuckles white around a damp cloth, trying to help and somehow not get yelled at in the process.
"Get that thing away from me!" Y/N snapped, swatting the cloth out of his hand. Sweat trickled down her temple, her breathing shallow and sharp. "If I wanted cold water thrown at my face, I'd go back to Glasgow in winter!"
Chibs winced. "Lass, ye need to breathe. I'm just tryin'—"
"Don't ye 'lass' me, you Scottish bastard! This is YOUR fault!"
He knelt beside her, staying close but not touching. "Aye. I know it is."
Another contraction hit. Y/N's hands gripped the sheets, her face contorting. A strangled cry left her lips, raw and guttural.
Chibs reached for her hand instinctively. She slapped it away. Then grabbed it a second later and crushed it with surprising strength.
"Don't let go," she growled through gritted teeth.
"I won't, mo gràdh," he whispered.
Rat paced outside like a terrified midwife, while Tig peeked through the door and quickly decided nope, this was well above his pay grade.
Inside, Chibs wiped her brow gently.
She glared. "Don't go soft on me now, Filip Telford. You don't get to play the dotin' husband after knockin' up your wife and shaggin' a sheriff!"
His chest tightened with guilt. "Y/N, I made a mistake—"
"A mistake is forgettin' to buy milk. What you did was—AHH!" Another scream cut through the room, this one fierce enough to make even Rat drop his coffee outside the door.
"I'm sorry," Chibs whispered, gripping her hand tighter. "I'm sorry for everything, lass. I never stopped lovin' ye."
She looked at him, eyes wild but glassy.
"Damn you, Filip," she muttered, tears suddenly breaking through the fury. "I want to hate you. I should hate you."
"I know."
"But you're the only one I want right now."
"I'm not leavin'. Not again."
Just then, the baby crowned.
"Shite!" she cried, voice cracking. "I can't do this—"
"You can, Y/N. You're the strongest person I've ever known. Just a bit more, yeah?"
One more push, a scream that would've sent SAMCRO running for cover—and then...
A cry.
A tiny, piercing wail that silenced everything.
Chibs' eyes filled as he stared down at the child in the medic's hands. A perfect, furious little life with a full head of dark hair and lungs that rivaled his mother's.
"It's a girl," the medic said softly, wrapping her up.
Chibs let out a shaky breath. "A daughter."
Y/N lay back, exhausted, trembling, but her eyes were locked on the baby.
When they placed her in Y/N's arms, her lips parted—half in wonder, half in disbelief.
Chibs leaned close, pressing his forehead to hers. "Thank ye, love. For her. For you. For still lettin' me stand here."
Y/N looked down at the child, then up at him.
"You're still a bastard," she said hoarsely.
He grinned, eyes wet. "Aye. But I'm your bastard."
“Defiance - Part 1″
“Defiance - Part 2″ 🚫
(Chibs x Reader)
“Coffee Talk”
(Chibs x Reader)
“The Day is Gone”
(Jax x Reader)
“Infidelity”
(Juice x Reader)
“Taking Trager’s Advice” 🚫
(Chibs x Reader)
“Bad Associations”
(SAMCRO x Reader)
“Betrayal” 🚫
(Happy x Reader x Juice)
“My Brother’s Sister - Part 1″
“My Brother’s Sister - Part 2″
(Jax x Reader)
“Big Happy Family”
(Happy/OC x SAMCRO)
“3AM” 🚫
(Tig x Reader)
“Why Him?”
“Why Not Me? (Why Him? Part 2)” 🚫
(Chibs x Reader)
One Liner Prompts
“Close your eyes” with Chibs Telford
“Go on, I dare you” with Happy Lowman
“I’ll protect you not matter what… Even if it kills me” with Happy Lowman
“I’m not gonna let you get yourself killed” with Chibs Telford
“Please… Stay…” with Happy Lowman
“I told you this would happen” with Opie Winston and Happy Lowman
“Every time I see you, I fall in love with you all over again” with Tig Trager
“Can You Hold Me?” and “I can’t do this without you” with Chibs Telford
“No! I won’t be your secret!” with Happy Lowman
“Do you regret getting involved with me?” with Chibs Telford
Other Random Prompts
“Tig’s Confession”
(Tig x Reader)
“Caught” 🚫
(Tig x Reader)
“All Night Long” 🚫
(Tig x Reader)
“Birthday Sex” 🚫
(Tig x Reader)
“Top Yourself” 🚫
(Tig x Reader)
“Breakfast”
(Chibs x Reader)
“Oh Father - Part 1″
”Oh Father - Part 2″
”Oh Father - Part 3″ 🚫
(Chibs x OC)
“Waking up Happy” 🚫
(Happy x Reader)
“Before The Lockdown”
(Happy x Reader)
“Consequences” 🚫
(Happy x Reader)
“Chasing Waterfalls” 🚫
(Happy x Reader)
“In The Kutte” 🚫
(Happy x Reader)
“36 Hours”
(Happy x Reader)
Letters To Home Series
Tig Chibs Happy Juice Jax Kozik Opie
Come-Join-TheMurder Originals
“Help” 🚫
(Tig x Chibs x Reader)
“Hurt”
(Chibs x Reader)
“Getting You Home” 🚫
(Chibs x Reader)
“Sunshine”
(Chibs x Reader)
“G’mornin’” 🚫
(Chibs x Reader)
“Athair”
(Chibs x Reader)
“Do you like him?”
(Happy x Reader)
“So Hott”
(Happy x OC)
“Like I’m Never Gonna See You Again” 🚫
aka ‘So Hot part 2′ (Happy x OC)
“The Game”
(Happy x Reader)
“Lunch Break” 🚫
(Happy x Reader)
Safe (Happy x Reader)
Safe - Part 1 Safe - Part 2 Safe - Part 3 Safe - Part 4 Safe - Part 5
“Home” 🚫
(Tig x Reader)
“Bail”
(Tig x Reader)
“Hey Bartender” 🚫
(Tig x Reader)
“The Other Man”
(Tig x Reader)
“Pool Party” 🚫
(Tig x Reader)
“Missed Call”
(Tig x Reader)
For The Long Run (Tig x Reader)
Part 1 – Part 2 – Part 3 – Part 4🚫
Part 5 – Part 6🚫 – Part 7 – Part 8
Part 9 – Part 10 – Part 11 – Part 12
Part 13 – Part 14 – Part 15🚫 – Part 16
Part 17 – Part 18 – Part 19 – Part 20🚫
Part 21 – Part 22 – Part 23 – Part 24
Part 25 – Part 26🚫 – Part 27 – Part 28
Part 29🚫 – Part 30
I will update this as I add more posts.
Thanks for your continued support, dolls!
“Safe - Part 2″
*mentions of sexual assault and battery*
Happy x Reader w/ Tig friendship
(GIF isn’t mine)
.
.
.
It was still dark out when Wayne pulled up at the emergency room parking lot and put the car in park as Tig pulled up beside him.
You swallowed hard, knowing the assault you endured was only the beginning of the nightmare. Soon there would be doctors hovering over you, police digging into you for answers you wouldn’t be able to give, then…..Happy. You felt the tears prickling at your eyes again as you began to hyperventilate, a panic attack washing over you as you pressed your head into the seat back and clamped your eyes shut.
“Woah, hey,” Wayne spoke, trying to soothe you, “It’ll be alright (Y/N).”
“I-I-I’m gonna be know-wn as the ra-aped girl” you sobbed, stuttering through your gasping breaths as Tig walked up to the window, resting his bare arms on the door and watching you, trying to think of a way to ease your pain.
“I’ll take it from here, Unser, thanks for driving her,” Tig spoke through your window to the man in the driver’s seat, opening your door and helping you out, still clothed in only his shirt and a blanket.
“Alright. Let me know if you need anything, I’ll send one of my unis up here to take her statement later so we can start looking for this guy.” Wayne said, but Tig shook his head, “Might not need that brother, wait for my call.”
The Chief of Police looked at your friend sternly but Tig spoke again, “Look at her, man. She doesn’t want to have to relive this shit, your cops tearing her apart with a fine tooth comb,” he argued, turning to you, “What if I call Jax?Have Tara come up and we can do this whole thing confidential, nobody has to know.”
You nodded and Tig shut the car door, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as you walked to sit outside the hospital and wait, “Hap’s gonna want to handle this justice on his own. No sense in getting police involved. Doc will know how to keep it under the radar,” he assured you while dialing Jax.
As it happened, Tara had actually been working and walked down to meet you, carrying a pair of scrubs with her and handing them to you, ushering you into the restroom to change.
When you stepped out in your fresh clothes, Tara motioned for you to follow her and told Tig to have a seat in the waiting room. You turned to him, handing him his shirt with a panicked look on your face. He nodded to you, “I’ll call Hap,” he sighed. “Don’t give him details over the phone Tig, he’ll kill himself trying to get here,” you begged of him and he nodded once again, turning to walk back down to a row of chairs in the hallway as you disappeared around the corner.
After your examination and all the tests, you were put in a room and Tara went out to get Tig. You curled up in the hospital bed in the fetal position, closing your eyes and wishing you could just escape for a while. Tig knocked on the door twice before opening it and stepping inside, closing the door behind him.
“Hey,” he whispered, and you opened your eyes, watching him as he walked to your bedside, “Happy’s on his way. I didn’t tell him what happened I told him I didn’t know just that he needed to come,” he wrinkled his nose, “He’s gonna kick my ass when he finds out….” he trailed off and your bottom lip started to quiver again.
“I need him here!” you wailed, turning your back to Tig, burying your face in the sterile-smelling sheets and sobbing.
Tig sat on the edge of the hospital bed and stroked your back as you cried, gritting his teeth as his entire body filled with rage, wanting nothing more than to rip apart the asshole or assholes who hurt his friend. You stopped crying after a few minutes, finally drifting off to sleep and he thought about moving to sit in one of the chairs but decided against it, wanting to be near you to comfort you. He pulled himself up further into the bed, resting his back against the elevated part as you rolled over, resting your head against his ribs, sighing deeply and settling back to sleep. Within minutes, Happy came walking into the room, his face filled with anger as he glared at the bed. Tig pulled a finger up to his lips in a shushing motion and gently rolled you away from him and stepped down from the bed, walking past Happy to the door and whispering to him to come outside.
“Just ran into Tara, she said you’ve been here for hours.” Happy stared at Tig who said nothing in response, “Why didn’t you call me sooner?”
Tig huffed and looked solemnly at his brother, “I was the one who found her, Hap. She wouldn’t come to the hospital at all unless I promised to wait to call you.”
Happy furrowed his eyebrows and stepped to Tig, “Be pissed if you want brother but I had to take care of our girl and I didn’t see it happening any other way,” he stammered, backing away from the menacing man in front of him.
“So what happened?” Happy rasped.
Tig looked down at his boots, “Hap,” he breathed, not offering anything more.
“Tell me,” Happy ordered, clenching his fists.
“She was knocked out, kidnapped, beaten and …..” Tig took a deep breath and exhaled, his voice cracking as he tried to find the words, “…..raped, brother.”
Happy’s top lip trembled as he wheeled around, slamming his fists against the wall and yelling in agony, startling the nurses and visitors nearby who speedwalked away.
Spinning back around, Happy’s glare dug into his blue-eyed friend, “WHO.” he grunted and Tig grabbed Happy by the shoulders and looked him in the eyes, “I don’t know. She doesn’t remember, Happy,” he rationalized and Happy huffed impatiently, turning to walk down the hallway out of the hospital and Tig chased after him, “Hey, hey, hey! Hap!” he shouted, running in front of him and blocking his way.
“Move!” Happy grunted trying to push past his brother but Tig pushed him back by his shoulders, “Get off me!” he yelled.
“Happy she needs you, brother. You gotta stay even for now, you gotta be here for her. In the morning we’ll bring it to the table. We’re all gonna back you, man, whoever did this deserves to burn that’s why the police haven’t been called,” he paused, taking a deep breath, “But right now she needs to know you love her.” he stated, squeezing his tattooed friend on the shoulder.
As quickly as it came, Happy’s rage subsided as he realized that the pain he was feeling from having his old lady attacked was nothing compared to yours, as you were enduring both physical and mental torture.
His eyes softened and his anger turned to sadness as he nodded and pulled Tig in for a hug, “Thanks for being there for her, bro,” he croaked, patting him on the back and then turning to walk back inside.
Tig scratched his head as he watched Happy re-enter your hospital room, closing the door behind him.
The sun was beginning to come up as Tig walked down the hall outside to head home. At the same time, Happy was crawling into the bed with you. He pulled you to him, wrapping his arms around you and pressing his nose into the nape of your neck.
“I’m so sorry baby girl,” he mumbled against your skin, squeezing you, “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there to protect you.”
You were awake, listening to his every sound, but you couldn’t bear to face the reality right now, so you pretended you were still asleep, knowing you were safe Happy’s arms tonight.
Another chapter- ish. Don't steal my shit. If you're still reading this, please reblog or comment something. I am more motivated to write when I know that there's someone looking forward to it. It means I'm doing more than screaming into the void.
It wasn't long before Hank and Happy returned with the promised stencil. "Here, mi princessa. Let's try this size."
Megan smiled and began to remove the layers she still wore until she was down to her band shirt. She laid her flannel and hoody across the bar and smiled as she offered her left arm.
Hank took her hand and kissed it before taking the offered transfer gel from Happy. He placed the stencil just below her elbow.
Megan's smile grew as she saw the purple ink on her skin.
Taza looked over her shoulder and smiled softly. "Your first club ink, Chica. Is it what you want?"
She looked up at him and he saw the absolute certainty in those brown eyes. She nodded. “Then it's perfect."
A few hours later, the tattoos were done and wrapped in plastic. Megan's left arm was marked with her very own symbol. On her right- a black feather to mark her as a club friend to SAMCRO. Halfway through the session, Happy had received a text message saying the Wahiwa Lodge was ready for its temporary inhabitants.
“Alright, Lass? Hank wasna ' jokin’ bout you takin' ink like a champ," Chibs grinned." An now yer proper ready for tonight."
Megan smiled at the Scot and leaned back against Hank as he came up behind her after a final hand wash. "What's tonight?"
Bishop grinned a little. "What else, Poquito? A party to welcome us to Charming town."
Taza laughed at the dismayed look on his daughter's face. "Let's get to the lodge and unpack a bit. Give la princessa some time to decompress- rest." He winked as he scratched Rex's ears. "A shower and change of clothes wouldn't hurt any of us."
The Wahiwa Reservation guest lodge was all theirs for the duration of their visit. That meant that, for once, everyone had their own rooms. Chibs and Happy had ridden along to make the introductions to the tribal elders as well as so Happy could see that the changes he'd required had been made.
Hank and Megan had a small suite next to the rooms designated for Bishop and Taza. A huge king sized bed- with a brand new mattress- as well as a large dog bed took up most of the room space.
Megan unpacked the three outfits she'd brought along on the run and stared at them in dismay. She'd packed as the Santo Padre Armorer. Sensible jeans, long sleeved shirts, and hoodies were all she had, along with her basic jewelry. She hadn't packed for a SAMCRO party. She groaned softly.
Hank paused in his own unpacking. "Everything good, mi princessa?" he asked from the other side of the bed.
She tried to smile for him. "Of course, Baby. Just... assessing my options for tonight."
Hank chuckled and came around to cuddle her back against his chest. "Not liking what you see, mi amore?"
"I didn't exactly pack 'party' clothes. I packed warm and practical, but not pretty."
He softly kissed the back of her hair. "I'm sorry Princessa. We could go see what we can find in town..."
She shook her head. "No time. Especially not if we're supposed to get there with Papa and Tío Bishop."
Hank looked over her clothes. "You know you don't have to dress up for this- right? You'll look beautiful in any of these." He squeezed her waist gently.
"You, sir, are biased." She smiled. "I know I can wear my normal clothes to the party. I just like to look my best when I'm dealing with new people." She turned in his hold with a giggle. "And I like when you can show me off a bit, too."
Hank pulled her into a kiss softly. "I can always show you off, mi reina. You could be in a paper sack and I'd think you shined brighter than the sun."
Megan took a deep breath and settled against his chest to relax for a moment.
A knock at the door broke them apart. Hank opened the door fully expecting it to be Taza standing there to see if Megan wanted her hair redone or Bishop letting them know about dinner plans before the party. Instead, Hank found the skinny SoA prospect standing nervously in the hallway with a large box and a bag.
"Excuse me- is Ms. Megan in this room?" he asked.
Hank grunted an affirmative and saw the relief flash across the kids face.
"Great. Ms. Venus sent me to deliver this to Ms. Megan since she says she knows she wasn't expecting a party." He offered Hank the items and looked ready to flee.
Megan stuck her head around Hank's broad form to smile at the prospect. "Thank you! I'll call her and tell her you delivered it, Prospect." He nodded hurriedly and squeaked out a "no problem" before he scurried away.
Hank shook his head and kicked the door gently closed before putting the gifts on their bed. "Are they sure that one's old enough to prospect?"
Megan laughed." Venus calls him Babyface all the time. He's their new one." She smiled softly as she shot off a text to Venus to thank her before even opening the box. Inside was a faux leather a-line dress with cap sleeves. The cut screamed innocent, but the black leather gave the piece some edge. The bag contained ballet flats and a new tube of mascara and an eyeliner pencil- both in black and waterproof.
Hank smiled as Megan laid it out on the bed. "That's going to look nice with your kutte, mi amore."
She smiled again and ran a finger down the bodice seam nearest her. "Yeah. I think so too."
They showered together with Hank gently cleaning her new tattoos for her while keeping her hair dry for the night. The plan was to put tegaderm on the bicep tattoo to keep it from rubbing too much. Her club ink would be kept uncovered. Hank preferred to keep it that way to aid healing. While Hank dressed himself, he kept an eye on Megan. He watched her slip into her bra and underwear. The soft cast allowed her much more independence than the sling had, but she still struggled with some things. Zippers were one of those things.
After doing her skincare, she slipped into the dress that the first Lady of SAMCRO had provided only to discover that the zipper was in the back and out of her reach.
Before she could ask, Hank paused in buttoning his red and black flannel to zip her dress for her- stroking the soft skin of her back. He pressed an open mouthed kiss to the side of her neck with a smile.
Megan smiled back over her shoulder at him. "How do you think I should wear my hair?" she asked.
Hank took her good hand and spun her dramatically to make her giggle and her skirt flare. Her loose hair spun with her. "You look perfect, mi reina. La Princessa de los Mayas."
"Will you help me with my jewelry when you get done getting ready?" she asked, wandering over to the mirror to line her top lids and put a coat of mascara on.
"Absolutely". He finished with his buttons and styled his hair as she slipped into the ballet flats.
Only once her crown necklace and pearl earrings were in place did Megan seem to breathe.
Hank shrugged into his own kutte before holding hers out to help her into it.
Out in the common room, Taza and Bishop waited for them so they could head back to TM for the party. The other members had gone on ahead.
"Well aren't you pretty. Poquito." Bishop grinned as he offered a hand for a spin. Megan took it allowing them to see the full effect of her gift. "Where'd you get the dress?"
Hank chuckled. "One guess, Bish. La Princessa has friends everywhere."
"Surely not Happy..." Taza said with a laugh.
Megan giggled. "No. Not Happy- this time. Venus came to my rescue."
"Well-don't count Happy out for the night just yet, Chica," her father laughed. "You're gonna want to thank him- again. He sent you a ride."
"A ride?" Megan asked. "I thought we were taking the bikes to TM."
"We are," said Bishop. "You- however- are riding in a jeep that T.O. just finished restoring- with or without your caballero." He grinned. "It's an automatic, so you can drive it yourself if you'd like."
Hank laughed. "He really doesn't like you getting cold apparently, mi amore."
Megan laughed and looked at Hank. "So are you riding or are you coming in the jeep with me and Rex?"
"I think I'll join you in the jeep, Princessa. That way my bike is here and not stuck at
T. M. when you get too tired to drive home."
A short drive later and they arrived at T.M. Happy sat on the picnic table outside sipping a beer and ignoring the croweater currently trying her best to get his attention. Megan smiled at him softly. "Hey Happy. Thank you for finding another vehicle besides the van for us to use here."
He grunted and smirked. "How's the ink?"
"Not too bad. Hank put Tegaderm on my feather so it wouldn't rub on my clothes." She tilted her right arm to show where he'd tattooed her mark.
The quiet man nodded and checked the seal on the clear bandage himself. "It'll do."
Hank chuckled and shook the man's hand. "Told ya she takes ink like a champ."
Happy only nodded and scratched Rex's ears before waving them on inside.
Inside Megan was hit with a wall of sound as voices and music mingled. Smoke from joints and cigarettes made it all the more disorienting for her. She wrapped her injured arm around Hank's forearm and reached for Rex's collar with her left.
"Easy, mi amore. I know it's a lot at first..." Hank soothed.
"Why are our parties so much calmer than SAMCRO's?" she asked quietly.
Taza appeared at her left with a bottle of water for her and chuckled. "They aren't. You're just always there from the beginning so it doesn't seem as rowdy."
She winced and nodded.
"If it gets to be too much, mi princessa, just let me know. We'll find somewhere quieter." Hank pressed a kiss to her hair and drew her close to his side.
By the time they made it to the bar to greet Chibs and Tig, Megan had settled into the noise a bit. It wasn't any worse than working the bars on Broadway in Nashville. She was just so used to the quiet of Santo Padre now that it took some adjusting.
"There's tha’ lass! Ya ' alright?" Chibs asked as he saluted her with his whiskey glass.
"I'm good, Chibs. Just a bit unaccustomed to the noise." She slid onto the bar stool Hank pulled out for her and leaned back against el pacificador.
"To be fair- these parties could raise the dead, Sugar," said Venus as she arrived at Tig's side. She grinned and offered Megan a hug. "I just knew that dress was perfect for you."
Megan took the hug happily. "Thank you for sending your prospect over with it. I only brought work clothes for this run- nothing for a party."
"I figured. Especially since you came down on the bike. Was the ride alright?" the older southern woman asked.
"It was fine. A little chilly, but nothing too extreme," Bishop answered as he took his own glass of whiskey from Chibs.
Venus raised one manicured eyebrow at Megan. "So, no issues?"
Megan winced. "You're as bad as Happy," she muttered. "I struggled a bit with the enclosed van. That's all. Nothing major."
The First Lady of SAMCRO gave an indelicate snort. "A little? Or a lot?"
Hank soothed Megan by running his hands down her biceps. "She found ways to cope. It wasn't fun, but we made it okay." He pressed a gentle kiss to the back of her head.
"Alright. I'll leave off. Show me your ink," Venus smiled as she sipped a cocktail out of a dainty glass that looked comically out of place in the rough bar.
Glad for the change of subject, Megan turned her arms to show off her new art work.
As the night got later, Hank guided Megan to a couch in the corner for a breather. He waved their prospect down to ask EZ to make Megan a cup of tea and was a little shocked when EZ didn't immediately remember how Megan preferred it. He resolved again to check on the kid sooner rather than later.
When he returned his attention to his princessa, he found her frowning at her personal phone as she scratched Rex's ears. "What's wrong, mi amore?"
"You remember that weird text that I got on the drive up?" she asked.
Hank settled himself on the couch for her to lean on and nodded.
"I got another one..."
That brought a frown to his own face and he glanced around for Taza as he asked, "What's this one say?"
"’A full house is a stacked deck. Know when to fold…’" she replied.
"Fuck. Someone knows the Kings are state side and we're here to meet them."
"That's certainly what it sounds like. But no one should have this number. It's my personal." She handed him the phone to show him the number.
Hank saw EZ returning with Megan's tea. He took it distractedly and sent him back after Taza and Bishop.
Less than an hour later, Megan found herself sitting in the SoA version of an officer's templo. Chibs, Tig, and Happy were the only ones present for the home club, while the entire group of Mayans officers were present.
"Jaysus Christ- who could be trackin 'tha lass?" Chips asked.
Creeper rubbed his head and growled as he examined Megan's phone. "It's not firmware. It's not been bugged. It doesn't make any sense."
Taza nodded. "I bought that phone with cash even though I was attaching it to my plan. Bought it straight at the store- no outside tech handled it."
Happy grunted and chewed his toothpick. "Who's got the number?"
Megan counted them off on her fingers. "The club, Mama, Tía Diana, Tessa, Venus, Letty, and Happy. That's it."
Tig leaned back in his chair. "Only one explanation then- feds."
Bishop sighed. "Gotta be. Probably the ones Galindo is tied up with. They're the only ones with the pull to subpoena phone records. It's nothing for them to try to use your new arrival on the scene to their advantage."
Angel smoked quietly. "So is the phone safe to use?"
Chibs nodded. "Safe enough for personal use. Tha 'lass ain't exactly makin 'deals on her personal phone."
Megan wrinkled her nose. "Absolutely not. I barely use it outside the family. That's why I kept my burner."
"Right, Little Bit. Leave the fed hotline at the lodge while we're out handling business. They can't track it on Wahiwa land. Hell- we should probably all do that with the importance of this job," Tig said.
"I'll let the LO know that the feds have moved on from putting tails to possible phone taps on personals. She'll need to know." Angel was already sending a text on the LO burner phone.
"Of course she will. And, Sweet Chica, they can't connect you to a single thing. Just- ignore messages except for telling us about them, alright?" Taza said smiling gently at her. "We've got you covered."
Tig frowned. "The Kings know they're constantly followed and monitored on U.S. soil. This shouldn't do more than maybe hurry things along at this point."
Chibs nodded. "Alright then. Let's let Hank take the lass to bed for the night. We'll contact the Kings and let them know what's doin 'and keep everyone updated- on the burners." He smiled at Megan. "Go sleep. Yer done in."
Megan smiled back at the Scot before standing to kiss his cheek. Hank slid his arm around her waist and let her say her good nights to the other reapers as the party outside raged on.
"I'm gonna hang back and make sure our guys remember we're here to work ," Creep said as the younger Mayans rejoined the party.
" 'Preciate it," Bishop said as he tossed his beer bottle on the way out the door. Taza joined him as they wrapped up for the ride home.
"Headed out?" Venus asked, as she appeared at Megan's side with her leather jacket for her. "Good. Get some rest and we'll see what plans are for tomorrow so we can plan lunch."
Megan hugged the older woman tightly. "OK. Night Venus. I may be slow to answer texts for the next few days, but I'll try to answer."
"That's alright, Sugar. You've got plenty goin 'on. We'll get some girl time before you leave." She straightened Megan's jacket collar and grinned up at Hank. "Take care of her, Tranq."
"Yes ma 'am," he answered as he guided Megan to the borrowed jeep and loaded Rex in the back.
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