Hi! I'm Kayden! I'm 19. I originally made this account to just chat with a friend, but I feel like I could do more for this account.. So I'm dedicating it to my old ocs!
Interests:
- Anime
- Music
- Gaming
- Art
- Collecting
Favorite Musical Artists: Any Country Artist, Longestsoloever, Metallica, Slipknot, Nirvana, Korn, Snoop Dogg, Frank Sinatra, Elvis Presley, VacantVal
Favorite Animes Include: Girls Last Tour, Dragon Ball (+ DBZ and DBS), My Hero Academia (+ All 4 Movies and Vigilantes), Berserk
Favorite Shows: The Rookie, The Transformers, Transformers Prime, Young Sheldon, Big Bang Theory, Gravity Falls, TMNT 2012, Dexter (+ New Blood and Resurrection), Avatar The Last Airbender, Sons of Anarchy
Favorite Movies: Bayverse Transformers (1-3), Transformers Rise of The Beasts, Bumblebee Movie, Any old Disney film, Transformers: One, The Transformers: The Movie, Friday the 13th Series, Final Destination Series
Fandoms I'm In:
- Sons of Anarchy
- Roblox
- MHA
- Berserk
- Gacha
- Friday Night Funkin
- Sonic The Hedgehog
Here's some of my art:
Please Note that My Artstyle Is Very Inconsistent.. And I Dont Do Art Requests.
DNI List:
- Pedophiles
- MAPs [Minor Attracted Person]
- Political Bullshit
- Racists
- Homophobes/Xenophobes/Transphobes
- Anyone Who Bullies Others For A Innocent Interest (Gacha, Roblox, Toca Boca, etc)
Last Thing About Me:
I make Minecraft and Roblox Renders!! I do take requests on those though!!
You work at your family’s bookstore/café and absolutely refuse to get involved with SAMCRO.
You call Jax out constantly.
You don’t let him charm you.
You tell him when he’s wrong.
That should make him stay away.
Instead, he keeps coming back.
The bell over the door of the bookstore rang at exactly eight-oh-three in the morning.
You didn’t look up right away.
“Coffee’s fresh,” you called from behind the counter, balancing a stack of new releases against your hip. “And if you’re here to ask if we sell cigarettes, the gas station’s two blocks down.”
A low laugh answered you.
Male. Familiar.
Dangerous.
Great.
You finally glanced up and immediately regretted it.
Sons of Anarchy’s golden prince leaned casually against the front door like he belonged there, leather cut hanging open over a white T-shirt, blond hair messy from the wind, blue eyes fixed directly on you.
Jax Teller smiled slowly.
“Morning to you too.”
You sighed so heavily your mother looked up from the café side of the shop.
“Oh,” she said brightly. “Jackson.”
You shot her a look.
Nobody in Charming called him Jackson except women over fifty and law enforcement trying to sound intimidating.
Jax grinned wider.
Your mother adored him.
Of course she did.
Every older woman in town adored him. Charming treated the Sons like a strange combination of local celebrities and incoming natural disasters. Everyone complained about them right up until they needed something fixed, protected, moved, threatened, or buried.
You, meanwhile, had spent most of your adult life actively avoiding them.
“Your usual?” your mother asked him.
“Please.”
“Mom,” you muttered.
“What?” she whispered back. “He tips well.”
“That’s because he launders money.”
Jax barked out a laugh.
Your mother tried—and failed—not to smile.
“You wound me,” Jax said.
“You’ll survive.”
You carried the books toward the fiction shelves, refusing to acknowledge the way his gaze followed you across the store.
It had become a problem lately.
Not the staring.
The returning.
At first he’d only shown up occasionally with Opie or Juice for coffee. Then it became every week. Then every few days.
Now?
Now he showed up so often your mother had started automatically making his drink when his motorcycle pulled up outside.
It irritated you more than it should have.
Mostly because you couldn’t figure out why he kept coming back.
You weren’t nice to him.
You didn’t flirt.
You didn’t blush when he smiled.
You definitely didn’t do what half the women in Charming did and practically throw themselves at his feet because he had pretty eyes and a tragic backstory.
You told him when he was being an ass.
Frequently.
Especially lately.
Because Charming had been tense for weeks.
Too many sirens.
Too many hushed conversations.
Too many bruises hidden under leather jackets.
And every time SAMCRO business spilled into town, regular people paid for it.
People like your customers.
People like your family.
“You still stocking that banned books table?” Jax asked casually.
“Yes.”
“Hm.”
You narrowed your eyes at him. “What?”
“Nothin’. Just figured you’d enjoy having an official criminal section.”
“You’re in a criminal section every time you walk into a police station.”
He smiled into his coffee cup as your mother handed it over.
Infuriating man.
“You know,” he said, “most people at least pretend to like me before insulting me.”
“Most people are blinded by the whole tortured biker thing.”
“And you’re not?”
“No.”
“Not even a little?”
“Especially not after you tried flirting with me while bleeding on my floor.”
“That happened one time.”
“You got stabbed.”
“It was superficial.”
“You left blood in the travel section.”
“That feels symbolic somehow.”
You stared at him flatly.
He looked delighted.
Your mother escaped to the kitchen under the very fake excuse of checking muffins.
Traitor.
Jax wandered the store while sipping his coffee, stopping beside a display of classics.
“You ever read this one?” he asked, holding up The Count of Monte Cristo.
“Yes.”
“Good revenge story.”
“You would think that.”
“Sounds judgmental.”
“You’re literally in a motorcycle gang.”
“Club.”
“Crime club.”
“Hurts every time you say it.”
“I’ll say it slower next time.”
His grin widened again.
And there it was.
That thing he did.
Like every sharp answer out of your mouth amused him instead of offending him.
It was deeply unfair.
Most men hated being challenged.
Jax Teller seemed to collect your insults like souvenirs.
“You always this friendly in the mornings?” he asked.
“Only with repeat offenders.”
“You got a policy against bikers?”
“I’ve got a policy against chaos.”
“Ouch.”
“You bring chaos everywhere you go.”
He leaned one elbow against the bookshelf.
“Maybe I just keep comin’ back because you’re the only person in this town who talks to me like a human being.”
“That’s not true.”
“Nah,” he said quietly. “Most people either fear me or want somethin’ from me.”
Your mouth almost softened.
Almost.
Then you remembered the broken storefront downtown last month after a gun deal gone wrong.
You remembered the terrified teenager who’d hidden in your café bathroom during the shootout.
You remembered your mother locking the doors while helicopters circled overhead.
“No,” you said evenly. “Most people are afraid of what follows you.”
Something flickered behind his eyes.
Not anger.
Something heavier.
“You think I don’t know that?”
“I think you choose it anyway.”
The silence stretched.
Your mother peeked around the kitchen doorway like she was monitoring a hostage negotiation.
Jax looked at you for a long moment.
Then he nodded once.
“Fair.”
That surprised you.
Most men—especially men like him—got defensive when challenged.
Jax just… absorbed it.
Which somehow made him harder to dislike.
Annoyingly.
He set the book down carefully.
“See you around, sweetheart.”
“Don’t call me sweetheart.”
“See you around, sweetheart.”
“Jesus Christ.”
He laughed all the way out the door.
You hated that you noticed when he didn’t come in.
Three days passed.
Then five.
Then eight.
Which shouldn’t have mattered.
Except it did.
Because Charming felt wrong.
Too quiet.
Your mother noticed too.
“You keep looking outside,” she said while restocking pastries.
“I’m checking the weather.”
“Mhm.”
“I am.”
“Sweetheart, I watched that boy flirt with you for forty minutes over black coffee.”
“He antagonized me.”
“You antagonized him right back.”
“That’s because he’s annoying.”
Your mother smiled into the display case.
“You like him.”
“I absolutely do not.”
“You know who says ‘absolutely’ before denying things?”
“People who are correct.”
“People in denial.”
You groaned.
The bell above the door rang again before you could argue further.
But it wasn’t Jax.
Two men in suits entered instead.
ATF.
You recognized one immediately.
Agent Stahl.
Great.
Your stomach tightened as she flashed a cold smile.
“Afternoon.”
“We’re closed for lunch,” you lied.
She ignored that entirely.
“We’re looking into Sons of Anarchy.”
“And?”
“You know Jackson Teller.”
Not a question.
“He buys coffee.”
“He spends a lot of time here.”
“He spends a lot of time everywhere. It’s a small town.”
Her eyes sharpened slightly.
“You dislike the club.”
“I dislike violence.”
“That usually overlaps.”
You crossed your arms.
“If you have a question, ask it.”
“We’d like to know if Teller’s mentioned any recent shipments.”
You stared at her.
Then laughed once in disbelief.
“You think I’m informing on bikers because they read paperbacks in my café?”
Stahl didn’t smile.
“He trusts you.”
“No, he enjoys annoying me.”
“Sometimes men mistake resistance for intimacy.”
Your jaw tightened.
“You need to leave.”
Her partner stepped forward slightly.
“We’re trying to protect this town.”
“No,” you said coldly. “You’re trying to use me.”
Stahl studied you for another moment before nodding.
“If he says anything useful, call me.”
She slid a card across the counter.
You didn’t touch it.
The second they left, your mother exhaled shakily.
“Well,” she muttered. “That felt threatening.”
You grabbed the card and tossed it straight into the trash.
Jax returned the next morning with a split lip and bruised knuckles.
You were furious before he even opened his mouth.
“Absolutely not.”
He blinked.
“Morning to you too.”
“You cannot keep bleeding in my bookstore.”
“Technically not bleeding today.”
“You look like you lost a fight with a truck.”
“Truck looked worse.”
You pointed toward the door.
“Out.”
“Ouch.”
“I mean it.”
Instead of leaving, he sat at the counter.
Your eye twitched.
“You don’t listen very well.”
“Nah.”
“Has anyone told you that’s an unattractive quality?”
“All the time.”
“Good.”
He looked exhausted beneath the teasing.
Not physically.
Bone-deep tired.
The kind people carried when they stopped remembering what relaxed felt like.
Your irritation faltered despite yourself.
“Happen again?” you asked before you could stop it.
His eyes lifted to yours.
“The thing downtown?”
You regretted asking instantly.
Jax watched you carefully, like he understood exactly what the question cost.
“Yeah,” he admitted quietly.
You looked away first.
“Someone could’ve died.”
“Yeah.”
“You say that like the possibility doesn’t bother you.”
“It bothers me every damn day.”
The raw honesty in his voice caught you off guard.
For a second, the air between you shifted.
No teasing.
No sarcasm.
Just exhaustion and something painfully human underneath it.
Then the bell rang again and the moment shattered.
Gemma Teller Morrow swept into the bookstore wearing oversized sunglasses and enough confidence to power the state of California.
“There’s my favorite disappointment,” she announced to Jax.
You nearly choked on air.
Jax groaned. “Morning, Mom.”
Gemma’s gaze landed on you instantly, sharp and assessing.
Well.
Now you understood where Jax got it from.
“You’re the bookstore girl.”
“And you’re terrifying.”
Gemma smiled approvingly.
“Oh, I like her.”
“I’m not sure the feeling’s mutual.”
Jax outright laughed.
Gemma ignored him and approached the counter.
“You know he talks about you?”
Your entire body went still.
“Mom.”
“What? He does.”
“You’re enjoyin’ this way too much.”
Gemma leaned toward you conspiratorially.
“He likes women who challenge him.”
“I’m not interested.”
“Honey, that’s exactly why he’s interested.”
Jax dragged a hand down his face.
“Can we not do this here?”
“No,” Gemma said. “I’m having fun.”
You stared at the both of them.
“This family dynamic explains so much.”
Gemma cackled.
Actually cackled.
Jax looked mortified.
It was the most entertaining thing you’d seen all week.
“You should come by the clubhouse sometime,” Gemma said casually.
“No.”
“Wasn’t asking you,” you added to Jax.
“I noticed.”
Gemma tilted her head.
“You really hate the club?”
“I really hate what it does to people.”
Something flickered across her expression then.
Gone almost immediately.
But there.
A shadow.
“You’re not wrong,” she admitted softly.
The honesty surprised you enough that you didn’t immediately respond.
Gemma squeezed Jax’s shoulder as she passed him.
“Don’t scare this one off,” she murmured.
Then she left.
Silence lingered behind her.
You looked at Jax.
“I’m definitely never coming to the clubhouse now.”
“Probably smart.”
“You admit that very easily.”
“Would you believe me if I didn’t?”
No.
You wouldn’t.
And somehow he knew that.
The first time you saw Jax genuinely angry, it wasn’t directed at you.
It was raining hard enough to flood the gutters when the door burst open near closing time.
A teenage boy stumbled inside soaked through and terrified.
You recognized him vaguely—one of the kids hanging around SAMCRO sometimes.
“Please,” he gasped. “Can I use your phone?”
Before you could answer, motorcycles roared outside.
Three men stormed toward the entrance.
Not SAMCRO.
Different cuts.
Different energy.
Predatory.
Your stomach dropped.
The boy backed into the shelves in panic.
“Hey,” one of the men barked. “Kid owes money.”
“Then collect it somewhere else,” you snapped.
The man looked you over slowly.
“You wanna get involved, sweetheart?”
“I said leave.”
He took another step.
Then froze.
The sound of another motorcycle cut through the rain outside.
Heavy.
Familiar.
Jax walked through the door with murder in his eyes.
The entire atmosphere changed instantly.
Not metaphorically.
Physically.
Like oxygen disappeared from the room.
The other men straightened.
Jax looked at the terrified kid first.
Then at you.
Then at the men.
“You threatenin’ civilians now?” he asked softly.
The softness was worse than shouting.
Way worse.
“Club business,” one of them muttered.
“In her store?”
Nobody answered.
Jax stepped closer.
“You got five seconds to get the hell out before I make an example.”
The room held its breath.
Then the men left.
Fast.
The second the door shut behind them, the kid nearly collapsed.
Jax caught him automatically.
“Go wait outside,” he told the teenager quietly. “Happy’ll take you home.”
The boy nodded rapidly and bolted.
Rain hammered against the windows.
You stared at Jax.
“You brought this here.”
His jaw tightened immediately.
“I know.”
“That kid looked terrified.”
“I know.”
“You people keep dragging children into this—”
“I know,” he snapped.
The sudden anger silenced you.
Jax turned away sharply, both hands braced against the counter.
For a second he looked genuinely furious.
Not at you.
At himself.
“You think I don’t see it?” he said hoarsely. “You think I don’t know what this life does?”
The exhaustion in his voice hit harder than the shouting.
You swallowed.
“You could leave.”
A bitter laugh escaped him.
“Yeah.”
“You could.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“It never is with you people.”
He looked back at you then.
Blue eyes tired beyond belief.
“You got no idea how badly I wish you were wrong.”
The honesty knocked the fight out of you completely.
Rain filled the silence.
Finally you sighed.
“You’re dripping on my floor.”
A startled laugh broke out of him.
There it was again.
That impossible shift from darkness to warmth.
Like sunlight through storm clouds.
“You always know exactly what to say to me.”
“That wasn’t comforting.”
“Still worked.”
You grabbed a towel from behind the counter and shoved it at his chest.
“You owe me for emotional damages.”
His fingers brushed yours accidentally.
Heat climbed your spine instantly.
Annoying.
Very annoying.
Jax noticed.
Of course he noticed.
That smug flicker entered his expression.
You pointed at him immediately.
“Don’t.”
“Didn’t say anything.”
“You were about to.”
“Maybe.”
“Go away.”
He smiled slowly.
“Nah.”
It became a pattern after that.
Jax appearing at odd hours.
Coffee and arguments.
Book recommendations and moral disagreements.
He’d lean against shelves while you restocked inventory, asking questions that shouldn’t have mattered.
“What’s your favorite book?”
“Depends.”
“On?”
“My mood.”
“What’s the angry mood book?”
“You think I have one specifically for anger?”
“I think you got several.”
You handed him a copy of Frankenstein.
“You’re the monster interpretation type, aren’t you?”
“Ain’t that the point?”
“The point is people create their own monsters and then punish them for existing.”
Jax went quiet.
You noticed that happening more lately.
The teasing remained, but underneath it something deeper had started settling between you both.
Something careful.
Something dangerous.
One night he arrived after closing carrying a box.
You frowned.
“What’s that?”
“Books.”
“…Why?”
“Found out the storage unit near Stockton was shutting down. Guy had first editions he was gonna dump.”
You stared at him suspiciously.
“You bought me rare books?”
“You sounded offended by that.”
“You are literally in a motorcycle gang.”
“Club.”
“You commit felonies.”
“And yet here I am supportin’ local business.”
You opened the box carefully.
Your breath caught.
Inside sat a beautiful worn edition of Pride and Prejudice.
“You mentioned once you couldn’t find this print anymore,” he said casually.
Something in your chest twisted painfully.
Nobody remembered things like that.
Not small things.
Not things you’d mentioned absentmindedly weeks ago.
You looked up slowly.
“Why do you keep doing this?”
His expression softened.
“Doing what?”
“Showing up.”
The bookstore felt suddenly too quiet.
Jax leaned against the counter watching you carefully.
“Because you don’t look at me like everybody else does.”
“You mean like you’re Charming royalty?”
A corner of his mouth lifted.
“Yeah. That.”
“You hate it?”
“I hate not knowin’ if people actually see me.”
“And you think I do?”
“I think you see every bad thing about me.” His voice lowered slightly. “And you still talk to me.”
Your heart stuttered.
Dangerous.
This was dangerous.
“You frustrate me,” you said weakly.
“I know.”
“You’re reckless.”
“Yeah.”
“You make terrible decisions.”
“Often.”
“You are literally the human embodiment of bad ideas.”
He grinned.
“And yet.”
You hated how warm your face felt.
Hated it.
“You should go.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m starting to tolerate you.”
“That sounds serious.”
“It is.”
Jax laughed softly.
Then his gaze dropped briefly to your mouth.
The air shifted.
Your pulse stumbled.
And for one terrible second you thought he might kiss you.
Instead he stepped back.
“Night, sweetheart.”
You exhaled shakily after he left.
Your mother emerged from the kitchen immediately.
“You’re doomed.”
“Oh my God.”
You lasted another three weeks before finally going to the clubhouse.
Entirely against your will.
Mostly because your cousin’s idiot boyfriend got arrested and somehow that spiraled into needing paperwork from someone connected to SAMCRO.
You still weren’t fully clear on the details.
Only that Juice called saying Jax could help and your cousin was crying too hard to explain properly.
So there you were.
Standing outside the SAMCRO clubhouse staring at rows of motorcycles and reconsidering every life choice that led you here.
“You look like you’re approachin’ a haunted house.”
You turned sharply.
Jax stood beside his bike smirking at you.
“I am approaching a haunted house.”
“Little rude.”
“There are at least three men in there with felony tattoos.”
“Closer to ten.”
Your eyes narrowed.
“Why are you so happy I’m here?”
“Because you said you’d never come.”
“You manipulated circumstances.”
“That sounds accusatory.”
“You deserve accusatory.”
He laughed and gestured toward the building.
“C’mon. They already know you’re here.”
“That sentence alone makes me want to leave.”
But you followed him anyway.
Inside, the clubhouse was louder than expected.
Music.
Laughter.
Arguments.
The smell of beer and cigarette smoke.
Conversations faltered slightly when you entered beside Jax.
Oh, absolutely not.
You stopped walking immediately.
“Why is everyone staring?”
“They’re curious.”
“About?”
“You.”
“That’s horrifying.”
Jax’s grin returned.
Several members sat around the table watching openly.
Tig Trager looked delighted already, which felt threatening.
2012 Raph and Mikey can both canonically grow hair as per the mutant apocalypse arc showed.
But in a universe where the mutagen bomb didn’t explode, I bet these two probably gave their Donnie the rudest awakening ever by storming into his room at like 5 AM, freaking the fuck out over the fact they had hair sprouting out of their heads, and Raph demanding that he “fix it!” somehow.
And Donnie would probably try. But given that it would take some time to research, he’d not-so-politely tell Raph that, in the meantime, he’s just gonna have to learn either to live with it growing or to shave.
Which leads to Leo, at 6 AM, having to help Raph shave, because Leo has steady hands, especially when handling blades, and his stubborn little brother had nicked himself like 7 times trying to hastily shave his beard off. All while Mikey is hogging the mirror because he needs to “style” his hair and it’s literally three strands of hair.
OH MY GOD SHES SOOOOO CUTE. IM SO HAPPY YUI GETS MORE MERCH RECENTLY ESPICALLY AS A KID.
Side note: im sure this is simply a design choice but I do find it intresting how white her hair looks in this merch and even in other merch versus the blonde she has in the games, she almost resembles Subaru a lot now lol. I do think its pretty just an intresting choice. And of course her outfit is sooooo adorable. I DO wish they would've maybe gave her a more 2,000s modern fashion to reflect her upbringing as with the Sakamakis and such their outfits do reflect or at least align with theirs but im nitpicking.
Sitting on Jax's lap.
It starts because there's no where else to sit. It's a bit awkward at first and then over the course of the evening it becomes comfortable.
Eventually, over months, you start sitting on Jax's lap all the time, even when there are seats available. The Samcro boys give you guys so much shit.
When a girl starts flirting with him, the normal, you go to sit with someone else. Jax follows like a lost puppy.
The first time you sat on Jax Teller’s lap, it was purely accidental.
At least, that’s what you told yourself.
The clubhouse was packed shoulder-to-shoulder that night. Loud music rattled the walls, bottles clinked together behind the bar, and the entire main room smelled like beer, cigarettes, leather, and grease. SAMCRO had just finished handling some run two counties over, and everyone was in a rare good mood.
Which meant chaos.
Half the charter was drunk already.
Happy was winning money off prospects with some card game nobody else fully understood.
Chibs was arguing with Tig over Scottish versus American whiskey.
And Gemma had claimed the couch like a queen guarding her throne.
You arrived late after your shift at the garage, exhausted and starving, only to discover there wasn’t a single empty seat left in the room.
“Aw, sweetheart,” Tig called immediately when he saw you scanning the room. “You snooze, you lose.”
“You’re in my seat,” you shot back.
“There are no assigned seats.”
“You say that every time somebody steals your chair.”
“That’s different.”
You rolled your eyes and moved farther into the room, trying to ignore how everyone suddenly looked entirely too interested in where you were going to sit.
The problem with SAMCRO was that once they noticed something, they became vultures about it.
“Sit on the floor,” Happy offered.
“You sit on the floor.”
“I am on the floor.”
You looked down.
He was.
Cross-legged.
Like some terrifying tattooed monk.
Before you could respond, Jax Teller looked up from where he sat in the armchair near the bar, beer bottle balanced against his thigh.
“C’mere.”
Simple as that.
You blinked. “Where?”
A faint smirk tugged at his mouth.
“Use your context clues, sweetheart.”
Several heads immediately turned.
“Oh, shit,” Juice muttered under his breath.
You narrowed your eyes. “You’re enjoying this.”
“Little bit.”
There really wasn’t anywhere else to sit.
And honestly, you and Jax had always existed in each other’s space naturally anyway. You’d known him for years. He stole your fries. You stole his hoodies. You patched up his knuckles when he got reckless. Somewhere along the line, affection had become second nature.
Still—
His lap?
In front of everyone?
Your hesitation must’ve shown because his expression softened slightly.
“Ain’t a big deal.”
That somehow made it worse.
Because suddenly you were very aware that it could become a big deal.
You tried to act casual as you crossed the room.
“You’re all assholes,” you muttered to the others.
“Correct,” Chibs answered cheerfully.
Jax shifted slightly, one hand bracing against the arm of the chair to give you space.
The second you lowered yourself carefully onto his thigh, the entire room went silent for one dramatic beat.
Then:
“OHHHHH, SHIT!”
You closed your eyes immediately.
“Jesus Christ,” you groaned.
Tig nearly fell off the couch laughing.
“Look at his FACE,” Juice wheezed.
“What?” Jax snapped automatically.
“That’s the softest expression I’ve ever seen on a human being,” Opie muttered into his beer.
Jax flipped him off without looking away from you.
And unfortunately?
They were right.
Because the moment you settled against him, instinct kicked in.
His arm slid automatically around your waist to steady you.
Firm.
Warm.
Protective.
Like it belonged there.
Your stomach did a weird little flip.
You were suddenly hyperaware of everything.
How broad he was beneath you.
The heat of him through denim.
The way his fingers rested against your hip absentmindedly.
“You good?” he murmured quietly near your ear.
“Yeah.”
Your voice came out embarrassingly soft.
He smiled slightly.
And somehow that made it easier.
Conversation resumed around you after that, though the occasional smirk still got thrown your way. But after ten minutes, the awkwardness started fading.
After twenty, you stopped sitting so rigidly.
After forty-five, you leaned back against his chest without thinking about it.
Jax’s fingers tapped lazily against your side while he talked business with Chibs.
At some point you stole his beer.
He didn’t complain.
At another point his chin briefly brushed your shoulder when he leaned closer to hear you over the music.
Neither of you moved away.
By the end of the night, you’d forgotten entirely that you were sitting on his lap.
Unfortunately, everyone else remembered.
“Jesus,” Tig said as you finally stood to leave. “They nested.”
“Like fucking lovebirds,” Juice agreed.
“More like a stray dog that followed Jax home,” Happy added.
Jax snorted.
You pointed at all of them accusingly. “You’re the reason women avoid bikers.”
“We’re charming.”
“You’re emotionally illiterate.”
“Also true.”
Jax watched you the whole time you argued with them, smiling into his beer like he couldn’t help it.
It happened again three days later.
Then the next week.
Then constantly.
At first it was always circumstantial.
No room at the bar.
No free chair during church prep.
Packed booth at the diner.
But eventually?
You stopped pretending.
Sometimes there were three empty seats available and you still walked straight toward Jax automatically.
And every single time, without fail, he spread his knees slightly to make room for you before you even reached him.
Like muscle memory.
Like instinct.
The club noticed.
God, did they notice.
“You know chairs exist, right?” Chibs asked one afternoon while you sat sideways across Jax’s lap eating fries off his plate.
“They do,” you answered.
“So why are ye sittin’ there?”
You shrugged. “Comfort.”
Jax’s hand rubbed slowly up and down your thigh absentmindedly while he read paperwork.
Nobody missed it.
Tig looked physically pained by how disgustingly domestic the two of you had become.
“You guys are revolting.”
“You cry during Disney movies,” you reminded him.
“That is unrelated.”
“You cried during Finding Nemo.”
“He LOST HIS SON.”
Jax laughed against your shoulder.
The sound vibrated through you warm and low.
And maybe that was part of the problem.
Because sitting with Jax became easy in a way nothing else was.
You fit together strangely well.
His hands always found you naturally.
Your body relaxed around him automatically.
There was never hesitation anymore.
You’d curl into him during long nights at the clubhouse while he talked business.
Sometimes his chin rested on your shoulder.
Sometimes your fingers played with the rings on his hand absentmindedly.
Sometimes he’d arrive late, exhausted from a run, and the first thing he’d do was sit down and tug you into his lap like he needed the contact.
Nobody said anything during those moments.
Not even the guys.
Because underneath all the teasing, everyone could see it.
You made Jax softer.
And Jax made you feel safe.
The girl appeared six months after the first lap incident.
Blonde.
Tiny shorts.
Too much perfume.
The type that walked into the clubhouse already looking for attention.
She spotted Jax almost immediately.
Which wasn’t unusual.
Women flirted with him constantly.
You normally ignored it.
But tonight was different.
Because she didn’t just flirt.
She touched.
Hands on his shoulders.
Fingers trailing down his arm.
Leaning into him while she laughed too loudly at things that weren’t funny.
You were sitting beside him on the couch at first.
Not on him.
Just close.
But suddenly you felt weirdly out of place.
Which was stupid.
You and Jax weren’t together.
Not officially.
Even if everyone treated you like you were.
Still—
Something ugly twisted in your chest watching her smile at him like that.
So before the feeling could get worse, you stood quietly.
Jax glanced up immediately.
“Where you goin’?”
“Nowhere,” you answered lightly. “Need another drink.”
But instead of coming back to him, you crossed the room and dropped into the empty seat beside Chibs.
The table went weirdly silent.
Because everybody noticed.
Especially Jax.
The blonde blinked at the sudden shift in his attention.
“You were saying?” she purred.
He barely looked at her.
His eyes stayed on you across the room.
You were laughing at something Chibs said now, but it sounded forced even to your own ears.
Jax frowned slightly.
Then the girl touched his chest.
“You wanna get outta here later?”
“No.”
She blinked. “No?”
“No,” he repeated distractedly.
Then he stood up entirely.
Actually stood up.
And walked away from her mid-conversation.
The entire clubhouse erupted instantly.
“OH MY GOD,” Juice screamed.
“She got dumped in real time!”
Tig was choking laughing.
The blonde looked furious.
Meanwhile Jax crossed the room directly toward you like he was being physically pulled there.
You looked up as he stopped beside your chair.
“What’re you doing over here?”
You blinked innocently. “Sitting.”
“Yeah, no shit.”
Chibs immediately got up. “Actually, I need another drink.”
“You just got one.”
“Aye. Tragic.”
He disappeared before either of you could stop him.
Leaving only one chair.
Yours.
Jax looked at it.
Then at you.
Then finally said, quieter this time:
“C’mere.”
Your heart stumbled.
“You have a seat.”
“Don’t want it.”
The room had gone suspiciously attentive again.
You narrowed your eyes slightly. “Jax—”
“Baby,” he interrupted softly, “get over here.”
The endearment hit like a gunshot.
Dead silence filled the clubhouse.
Happy actually looked up from his knife.
Your face burned instantly.
Jax seemed to realize what he’d said about half a second too late.
But instead of taking it back—
His expression just softened.
You stood slowly.
Walked toward him slowly.
And the second you settled onto his lap again, his arms wrapped around your waist so tightly it almost felt desperate.
Like he’d been off-balance the entire three minutes you were gone.
The boys lost their minds.
“There they are!”
“Nature is healing!”
“Took Romeo long enough!”
“Somebody kiss somebody already,” Tig shouted.
You buried your burning face against Jax’s shoulder immediately while he laughed quietly into your hair.
But his grip on you never loosened.
Not once.
And later that night, long after the music died down and most of the clubhouse stumbled home drunk, you were still curled in Jax’s lap when he finally tilted your chin upward gently.
“You jealous?”
You opened your mouth immediately. “No.”
His grin widened.
“Liar.”
“She was hanging all over you.”
“She was,” he agreed.
Your stomach twisted again.
Then he brushed his thumb softly along your jaw.
“But I spent the whole time waitin’ for you to come back.”
The air disappeared from your lungs.
Jax’s eyes searched yours carefully.
“You know why?”
You shook your head slightly.
“Because every place else feels wrong now.”
Your heart nearly stopped.
And judging by the way he looked at you after saying it?
His might’ve too.
When he kissed you, finally, the entire world seemed to settle into place around it.
Soft at first.
Careful.
Like both of you were realizing this had been inevitable for a very long time.
Then your fingers slid into his hair and he made this low sound against your mouth that nearly melted you alive.
Somewhere across the clubhouse, Tig yelled:
“FUCKIN’ FINALLY!”
Neither of you even looked up.
Especially not when Jax pulled you closer into his lap like he intended to keep you there permanently.
Jax finds out your boyfriend hits you. The boyfriend isn't alive much longer.
Warnings: reader is in an abusive relationship
The first time Samcro ever saw you cry, it was over something stupid.
Not the reason for the tears — that part was devastating enough — but the thing that finally broke the dam.
A dropped carton of eggs.
That was it.
One second you were standing in the clubhouse kitchen trying to help Gemma cook breakfast for half the charter, and the next, the carton slipped from your hands and shattered across the floor in a slick yellow mess.
You just stared at it.
Then your breathing changed.
Then your face crumpled.
And suddenly you were crying so hard you had to brace yourself against the counter.
The room went silent.
Happy stopped mid-sentence. Chibs lowered his beer. Even Gemma paused, eyes narrowing in sharp assessment.
And Jax Teller looked at you like someone had punched him in the chest.
Because people didn’t cry like that over eggs.
Not unless the hurt started long before that moment.
You kept apologizing.
“Oh my god, I’m sorry, I’ll clean it up, I dunno why I’m—”
“Hey,” Jax said immediately, crossing the room. “Hey, stop.”
You tried wiping your face with the heel of your hand, embarrassed beyond belief. “I’m okay.”
He crouched beside the mess before you could touch a single shard.
“You ain’t cleanin’ this.”
“I made the mess—”
“And I said you ain’t cleanin’ it.”
His voice wasn’t harsh. Just firm.
Careful.
Like he already knew something fragile was cracking apart in front of him.
Gemma quietly handed you a towel. “Go wash your face, sweetheart.”
You nodded too fast and disappeared into the bathroom before anyone could see you completely fall apart.
Jax watched the door shut behind you, eyes catching on something before it closed.
A bruise.
Faint yellow-green fingerprints wrapped around your wrist where your sleeve had ridden up.
His entire expression changed.
Slowly.
Dangerously.
“You see that?” he asked quietly.
Chibs sighed. “Aye.”
Happy only grunted.
Gemma looked toward the bathroom door with something grim settling into her face.
Jax stood.
“Who is he?”
Your boyfriend’s name was Kyle Mercer.
Nobody liked him.
That should’ve told you something months ago.
He was controlling in ways that sounded reasonable if you explained them too fast.
He hated when you wore makeup because “guys stare.”
He hated when you stayed late at work because “you obviously care more about strangers.”
He hated when you came to SAMCRO gatherings because “those biker assholes fill your head with nonsense.”
And he especially hated Jax Teller.
Which, honestly, should’ve been another warning sign.
Jax had known you for years. You worked part-time at TM when they were overloaded, and you’d become woven into the edges of the club naturally after that.
You laughed loudly.
You brought coffee orders nobody remembered asking for.
You patched cuts without flinching.
And you looked at people like they were worth listening to.
Jax had been halfway in love with you long before Kyle showed up.
He just never said it.
Then you started dating Mercer.
And over time, you got quieter.
Smaller somehow.
Like you were folding yourself inward bit by bit.
Jax noticed.
Of course he noticed.
He noticed every damn thing about you.
You tried to leave Kyle three days later.
That was the thing that finally got you hurt badly.
You’d packed a bag while he was out.
You almost made it to the door.
Then he came home early.
The shouting started immediately.
“You think you’re too good for me now?”
“No,” you whispered. “Kyle, please—”
“You been fucking him?”
Your stomach dropped. “What?”
“That biker piece of shit. Jax.”
“No!”
The slap hit hard enough to send you sideways into the wall.
Your ears rang.
You tasted blood instantly.
Kyle grabbed your jaw before you could recover.
“You embarrass me again,” he hissed, “I’ll make sure nobody wants what’s left of you.”
A knock thundered at the door.
Kyle froze.
Another knock.
Harder.
Then:
“Open the fuckin’ door.”
Jax.
You’d never heard his voice sound like that before.
Not loud.
Not angry.
Worse.
Controlled.
Kyle sneered. “Perfect timing.”
He dragged you toward the door by your arm despite your protest.
When he yanked it open, Jax took one look at your face and went utterly still.
The split lip.
The swelling already forming near your cheek.
The fear you couldn’t hide fast enough.
Something lethal entered his eyes.
“Kyle,” he said quietly, “take your hand off her.”
“You don’t tell me what to do in my own—”
Jax hit him before he finished the sentence.
Not a punch.
A fucking explosion.
Kyle crashed backward into the entry table.
You screamed his name instinctively — not because you wanted to protect him, but because violence that sudden was terrifying no matter who it was aimed at.
Jax barely seemed to hear you.
Years of rage detonated all at once.
Every bruise he’d noticed.
Every flinch.
Every fake smile.
Every time you insisted you were “just tired.”
Kyle swung back once.
Jax put him through the drywall for it.
The neighbors would later say the sounds coming from the apartment were horrifying.
Furniture breaking.
Bodies hitting walls.
A man begging.
And another man answering with silence.
By the time Chibs and Opie dragged Jax off him, Kyle Mercer’s face barely looked human anymore.
Blood soaked the floor.
Jax was breathing like an animal.
“You touch her again,” he snarled, trying to lunge forward again, “I will fucking bury you.”
Kyle spit blood onto the carpet.
Jax kicked him in the ribs hard enough to crack something.
“Jax!” you cried.
That stopped him.
Immediately.
He turned toward you.
And the fury vanished so fast it was almost frightening.
“Baby,” he said softly.
Not possessive.
Not intentional.
Just instinct.
You started crying again.
Jax looked wrecked at the sight of it.
He crossed the room slowly this time, like he thought moving too fast might scare you.
“You okay if I touch you?”
Nobody had asked you that in a very long time.
You nodded once.
The second his arms wrapped around you, the adrenaline keeping you upright disappeared entirely.
You collapsed against his chest shaking.
“I got you,” he murmured, one hand cradling the back of your head carefully. “I got you now.”
Behind him, Chibs looked down at Kyle and muttered, “He’s still breathin’. Barely.”
He sounded disappointed.
Kyle Mercer died two nights later in hospital.
Internal bleeding.
Too much damage.
SAMCRO made sure nobody looked too closely at why witnesses suddenly changed parts of their stories.
Officially, it was a drunken fight.
Unofficially?
Nobody in Charming was particularly interested in justice for a man who beat women.
You, meanwhile, sat on the roof of Jax’s house wrapped in one of his hoodies while the town buzzed below you.
You hadn’t spoken much since the news broke.
Jax found you there after dark.
For a minute he just stood beside you silently.
Then he held out a beer.
You accepted it with a quiet thanks.
“You scared of me now?” he asked eventually.
Your head snapped toward him immediately. “No.”
But he didn’t look convinced.
“He’s dead because of me.”
“He’s dead because of what he did.”
Jax leaned against the railing beside you.
Moonlight caught the bruises healing across your face.
His jaw tightened at the sight.
“I would do it again,” he admitted. “That’s the part that probably should bother you.”
You stared at him for a long moment.
Then asked softly, “Did you love me before this?”
The question hit him hard enough that you saw it physically.
His eyes closed briefly.
“Yeah,” he said.
No hesitation.
No escape route.
“Long before this.”
Emotion climbed into your throat sharp and painful.
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“You were with somebody.”
“He hurt me.”
“I know.”
“No,” you whispered, tears returning. “I mean before that. He hurt me before he ever hit me.”
Jax went still.
Because he understood exactly what you meant.
The isolation.
The fear.
The shrinking.
The way abuse started quietly enough you almost didn’t notice yourself disappearing.
His hand reached for yours carefully.
“You ain’t disappearin’ anymore.”
You looked down at your joined hands.
At the cuts across his knuckles.
At the man who’d burned half the world down the second he realized someone hurt you.
Then you leaned into him.
And Jax exhaled like he’d been holding that breath for years.
His forehead rested against your temple.
Protective.
Reverent.
Certain.
Nobody ever touched you again without fear of what Jax Teller would do about it.
Pairings! Female Reader x Jax Tig & Chibs - Jax x Tig x Chibs
Reverse Harem Werewolf AU
Summary! All you were trying to do was go for a nice walk after work. Now you're suddenly the mate of three men who no one in Charming even knew were supernatural creatures.
6.2k of pure indulgent werewolf smut.
It’s on a random Tuesday when your life changes irrefutably. You’re on a walk, meandering through the overgrown trails in Charming’s local park, when the thick foliage on your right shakes. You have just enough time to brace yourself before a massive furry body comes hurling into you, knocking you on your back. Two heavy paws keep you pinned by your shoulders, and you are left staring up into the salivating maw of the biggest wolf you’ve ever seen.
Its fur was thick and matted around its scruff, the coloring a dark brown that tapered into silvery tan. Its tail whipped back and forth, ears shoved forward as it drops its big head and snuffles against your throat, cold nose bumping against your flesh as it breathes you in.
You stay frozen, terrified that it would rip into you if you made the wrong move. Your heart pounds, blood rushing in your ears as you stare at the beast, cautiously shifting your eyes until you catch golden ones that look far too intelligent to make you feel comfortable.
But the longer you lie there, the more you are sure that the wolf won’t hurt you. But it was heavy, and those claws were digging into your shoulders.
“Can-,” You begin and clear your throat, licking your lips and clicking your tongue to wet your mouth, “Can you get off me?”
You feel stupid for talking to the beast like it might understand you, so when the wolf whines and carefully shifts his weight off of you, you feel the world narrow in around you. You swallow hard and shift, sitting up and then standing, dusting your back off as you stare at the wolf who stares right back at you.
Before you can do something equally foolish and ask the beast if it can understand you, the woods shake another wolf comes barreling into the path, slamming into the brown one and sending them both careening into the bushes. You blink and take a cautious step forward when the sound of frustrated snarling reaches your ears. The two of them were in a tangled heap; the new wolf, a tiny bit smaller and more silver with age, had the other by the scruff, pearly canines on display as he shook his head.
The brown one whined and went limp, but you noticed that his eyes stayed locked on you. And so was the other wolf now that he had noticed you watching the two of them. You saw his nostrils flare wide, most likely taking in your scent, and then the terrifying sight of those golden eyes darkening.
You take a step back, hands rising in surrender, “I- please, don’t eat me?”
The two stare at you, and you are left blinking in dumbfoundment when they suddenly start to laugh. Loud, barking canine yips that echoed in the woods. You purse your lips and cross your arms, brow furrowing. You think asking not to be eaten was a perfectly fine response to having two apex predators staring at you.
“They’re not gonna eat you.”
You jump at the sudden voice and whip around to see none other than Jax Teller standing there. You take him in, eyes drinking in the way his jeans hang low and crooked, as if he’d been in a hurry to put them on. He was shirtless and without shoes, making your confusion grow tenfold.
“Jax?” You ask and cock a brow. You only knew him through the occasional oil change over at the lot, “Where are your clothes?”
You tense when he steps into your space. There was something about him, his body tense, jaw set, and his shoulders locked. You freeze when a big hand snags you by the jaw, tilting your head back as he bends, shoving his nose in the hollow of your throat. You hear him breathe you in, and then the unmistakable wet drag of his tongue over your pulse point.
You yelp and shove at him, taking a step back only to knock into two furry bodies who had closed in around the two of you. You wipe at your neck, eyes wide.
“What the fuck, Jax?” You grouch and glare at him. He catches you by both wrists, tugging you forward and into his chest. His eyes, usually a light blue that reminded you of the sky, were a dark, rugged gold. Your body tingled with fear, and it deepened when you felt two cold noses pressing against you. One nose lingered at the small of your back, while the other snuffled over your hip and then pressed into the meat of your inner thigh.
“Christ, doll,” Jax rasps, and you cut your eyes back up at him, unaware that you had dropped them away from his face. Your throat works at that ravenous look in his eyes, and you see how his eyes dart from your lips to your pulse point. He licks his lips, and a sharp sound escapes you when drool falls from his mouth to seep into the fabric of your shirt.
“You smell fuckin’ amazing.”
The smaller wolf makes a low growl of what you can only assume is agreement before shoving his face closer, muzzle twitching when the other wolf whines and buts closer. You watch teeth flash, the silver one snapping at a fuzzy brown ear.
“What’s going on?” You demand hotly when Jax sniffs you again. You tug at your wrists, wincing when he tightens his grip and drags you another step closer, his bare chest pressed tight against your shirt.
“Shouldn’t have come out here today, sweetheart,” Jax rumbles, and you feel the way his chest vibrates with every word. Your mouth goes dry, and your struggles increase: “Wasn’t a good time for an evening walk.”
“Jax,” You snap tightly. He looks drunk, golden eyes glazed over with a sort of heat that you don’t recognize. It’s different, otherworldly.
The wolves whine and stamp their paws, fluffy tails swishing back and forth as they bay for your attention. The brown one headbuts you again, nosing at where Jax has your wrists trapped and nipping gently at your knuckles.
“Sorry, doll,” Jax says, and then he is in your space again, pressing his face against your throat, tongue dragging across your flesh, and groaning at the taste of your sweat.
“Fucking perfect,” He groaned and did it again, making you yelp at the sudden scrape of sharp teeth across your throat, “Can’t help myself.”
You see, you’d walked right past where the werewolf pack within SAMCRO had decided to spend the full moon. The beastly side of them came out exponentially during that time, leaving them running high on instincts instead of human nature. The pack consisted of Jax, Tig, and Chibs, a small but strong pack whose territory spanned from Washington State down to Nevada. The pack as a whole was much bigger than just the three of them, but they were the ones who ruled over the Redwood Chapter.
Usually, a full moon consisted of the three of them running the woods within Charming, fighting and thrashing each other until the raging heat burned out. Occasionally, they’d fall in with each other after a particularly long run, half shifting and seeking release against each other like the animals they were.
But you? Your very presence changed the entire dynamic.
Tig had taken off like a shot the second your scent had hit his nose, nearly tripping over himself in his haste to find you. Jax hadn’t even had time to shift before Chibs was right behind the other wolf, forcing Jax to curse and run after them barefoot and shirtless.
They recognized you from the shop, coming by whenever your car needed any kind of maintenance. They’d agreed to leave you alone even though your scent called to them just as strongly then as it did now. The only difference was their lack of self-control due to the full moon. Now all bets were off.
“What is wrong with you?” You demand and jerk in his hold again, chest heaving as that fear seeps into your scent.
They catch it the second the sour smell floods your normally sweet scent, and Jax’s grip on you loosens while the wolves whine and press themselves against you, big golden eyes distressed. Those big hands smooth up from your wrists and to your shoulders, where Jax holds you still, his golden eyes locking with your own.
“Ain’t gonna hurt ya, sweetheart,” He murmurs and leans in, dragging the bridge of his nose along your jaw, groaning as he scents you, “Just need you to trust me.”
“With what?” You demand lowly, and you shove at the shaggy wolves now that your hands are free, frowning when they whine as you push at them. You hadn’t thought that Jax even had dogs, and you were pretty sure owning wolves was illegal in California.
“With us,” Jax says, but his rough answers just leave you even more confused. What did he mean by us? Was he talking about the canines that couldn’t seem to stop whining for attention?
But you don’t get your answer. Jax could feel the beast raging under his skin, urging him to shift and drag the pack’s new member back to their den and smother them in their scent. He drops his hands and groans, stepping back as he starts to jerk at his jeans.
Your cheeks go pink, and you stand in shock as Jax rips his jeans and then his boxers off, leaving him nude before your very eyes. It doesn’t last long, however. A sickening crack echoes on the trail, and you watch in growing horror as Jax falls to his hands and knees and starts to shift. The change goes by faster than you expected, and soon, instead of a human, a massive, shaggy blonde wolf sits where Jax was seconds before.
“What the fuck,” You breathe and stumble back, heart hammering in your chest. Sure, everyone knew about werewolves, but they were fucking fairytales, not reality.
Jax shakes himself and then stands, golden eyes locking onto you, and immediately he joins the other two canines in shoving at you, nudging your hand until it falls between a pair of fluffy blonde ears. You find your hand moving on its own, nails digging into his scruff and scratching Jax behind the ears. It’s then that you begin to gather a bit of an understanding of your current situation.
You look at the darkest wolf, the one tipped in more silver than the other two. You watch how he held himself, that look in those golden eyes when he raised his muzzle to nose at your stomach. Carefully, you offer your free hand, and he rests his jaw in your palm, a low huff escaping him.
“Chibs?” You ask carefully, and his ears perk up, those golden eyes lighting up and cutting up to you expectantly. You lick your lips and look at the brown wolf who had snagged your shirt sleeve with his teeth and started to tug you in the direction that the three of them had come from.
“Tig?” You say then and brown ears shove forward, a low whine loud in his chest as he tugs your sleeve again, the fabric straining between the two of you.
“What the hell,” You breathe again and stare at the three of them as they continue to grovel and wallow around you. You have no idea what you’re supposed to do in this situation, and maybe you ought not, but when all three of them start to tug you in the direction they’d come from, well…you went.
The clearing they led you to had been a good mile further into the woods. An overgrown dirt trail leads away, and you can see a pickup truck parked further back. They nudge and shove at you until you lie in the grass, and then they surround you, pressing in on all sides. Tig, the biggest and roughest of the three, makes himself at home across your chest, his jaw resting on his big paws as he stares up at your face, fluffy tail wagging like mad behind him.
Jax, blonde and sleeker than the other two, curls up along your right side, shoving his face in the crook of your neck, his cold nose pressed right against your pulse point. You shiver when his tongue drags over the sensitive spot. Chibs takes up your other side, his body stretched out along your own, where he rests his jaw on your thigh.
You are in the center of a very warm and vaguely smelly puppy pile, and all you’d wanted to do this evening was take a relaxing walk to clear your head after work. Instead, you lie there, trapped between three massive wolves who are also apparently the resident MC in your town.
“This is crazy,” You comment at some point. You have one hand stroking Tig’s tangled fur and the other buried in Jax’s thick scruff around his throat, “You know this, right?”
A rough huff of hot air against your throat is your answer, and you roll your head to stare at Jax, who just nuzzles closer like he could live off even this tiny bit of attention.
“I want answers after this,” You continue, even as you find yourself relaxing even more under the pack, eyes growing heavy with a sudden exhaustion. Your brain feels fuzzy, like a cloud had swept through and then lingered. You yawn and slow blink.
The three wolves share looks as you begin to fall asleep. If they hadn’t known that you were their mate, then they sure did now.
Werewolves didn’t need to bite the pack matriarch when they found them. Male werewolves released a certain hormone that reacted with the dormant cells within their body, and instead of a messy, painful shift, your body would go into a deep slumber as the hormones worked to change it to better suit the needs of the pack.
Would you be furious once you woke up? Most definitely, but instincts didn’t care about things like consent.
Tig was nearly going nuts with said instincts. His entire body was shivering with badly contained anticipation. They’d been watching you, wanting you since that first day you coasted into the lot complaining about bad breaks and hitting a squirrel. He squirmed closer, wet nose bumping against his mate’s cheek as he whined.
“smells so good.”
Only Chibs and Jax could hear the whine of want through the pack bond. He could feel their easy agreement through the connection, a connection you would soon share with them. Tig could already feel the beginnings of it forming.
“Sunshine and rain.”
Chibs rumbled low in his throat and dragged his scarred muzzle over your thigh, unable to help himself from dipping between your legs and taking a big whiff of heat. Another rough sound left him, and he wallowed closer, tail thumping against the ground.
“Gonna be mad.”
Jax’s voice was a little subdued, and he nosed forward again, golden eyes locked on your even breathing. He felt terrible that he couldn’t even explain to you before the change took hold of him. Now you were trapped between them, an unwilling addition to their pack.
Tig grunted and wacked Jax with a big paw, yipping in amusement when Jax snapped sharp teeth at his scruff.
“Will not,” Tig rumbles back over the connection, and his lips tug back in a canine smile as he growled playfully at Jax, “Be fine.”
Jax snarled right back, less playful and more agitated with Tig’s carelessness. Their aggression is broken up with Chibs standing and snapping at both of them, sharp teeth nipping their ears, before he settles back down again.
“Behave.”
They had a long wait ahead of them. They didn’t know how long it would take your body to complete the change that they had unintentionally initiated, but they would be by your side the entire time.
At least one of them stayed with you as the night dragged on. Tig was too full of energy to stay still, and Jax was too impatient, his chest tight with growing anxiousness. Chibs had barked at them to fuck off at some point, so now he lay with most of his furry body draped over you, watching the other two tussle like pups.
Chibs could smell your body changing. Your scent deepened, becoming heavier with a canine musk that made his teeth ache with the sharp need to lock his jaw around the back of your neck and take. Which he would, but only when the time was right, and they still had a long way to go.
The sun was near its peak when your body began to stir. You stayed unconscious, but they were witness to the way your flesh tore and reformed, tawny fur sprouting in its place. Your teeth sharpened, and your ears elongated, fingers curling to make room for thick paw pads and claws. They stood around you, mesmerized by the sight of the pretty she-wolf lying on her side.
You were beautiful, your fur sleek and your body built for speed. Tig prances in place, big paws thudding against the ground, his golden eyes raking over your new body. He wants to wallow all over you, cover you in his scent and the scent of pack.
Jax whines beside him, his tail wagging behind him in big arcs that kick up dirt. He drops to his belly and crawls forward, eyes locked on the way your chest expands and concaves, in and out.
“Beautiful”
Chibs’ voice whispers through the connection, and he mirrors Jax, dropping to drag himself forward with a soft chuff, ears pinned back against his skull, claws digging into the soft earth as he breathes in your scent.
The connection throbs between the group of wolves, and it’s the overwhelming sensation of three males unconsciously chanting mate mate mate that wakes you up.
The first thing you register is how strongly everything smells right now. The dirt, the grass, and the trees. The very air itself smelled sweet, but it was the three scents surrounding you that had your attention. Each one was unique, but still shared a core scent that you were now realizing you shared as well. Everything felt sharp, like your senses had been dialed up to ten.
You cracked open your eyes next and immediately squinted at the glare of the sun. You blink, eyes slowly adjusting before you roll your eyes to look around, body feeling too stiff to move just yet.
Tig is the first thing you see. The brown wolf looks so excited that you’re surprised that he’s not combusted on the spot. He taps in place, ears shoved forward, and his jaw lax as he panted.
“Awake!”
You jerk at the sound of his voice, loud and clear in your head. You blink at him and then draw up the willpower to actually move. Slowly, you shift, only to stall when you see thick tawny fur instead of the purple shirt you’d been wearing. A gasp rips through your throat, but it comes out far less human and far more beastly.
Somehow, you are able to get your feet- paws!- under you and stand up. You look down, chest beginning to heave when you spot the fluffy length of your tail hanging between your hind legs. You shake where you stand, trying and failing to come up with any kind of logical explanation.
“From us.”
You nearly stumble over your paws when you whip your head around at the sound of Jax’s voice. He stands there, looking contrite with his tail tucked between his legs and his ears pinned to his skull. His head is lowered, turned to the side to look up at you with a single eye. Instinctively, you understand the look of submission, but that doesn’t come close to appeasing the anger that suddenly blooms inside of you.
With a snarl, you lunge at Jax. Any uncertainty using your new body disappeared as you spring forward and slam into him. The two of you roll, and you claw and snap, sharp teeth ripping at his scruff and the sensitive edges of his ears. Jax yelps and rears back, trying to get away from you without having to fight you off of him.
Tig howls in laughter behind the two of you, dropping to the grass and wallowing as he yips, legs stuck up in the air as his tongue lolls out the side of his mouth.
Chibs just huffs and lopes forward, being the responsible one once more, and snagging you by the scruff, jaw locked but still gentle as he tugs you off Jax. You snarl and lunge at him, but Chibs just dances out of the way.
Tig suddenly darts forward and nips your tail, earning him a yelp and a sharp growl from you. You tuck your tail and pin your ears, growling at the three males who surround you. You are on edge, but they know exactly what you need.
“Run!”
Tig pounces forward again and nips at you, playful as he slams his front paws down, his expression big and dopey. His excitement is contagious, and Jax finds himself following his pack mates' lead, darting forward to shove his forehead into your shoulder. You stumble and growl at them, but then you feel the traitorous motion of your tail starting to wag.
Your hackles ease when Chibs lopes forward and shoves his scarred muzzle in your face, nosing at your jaw and then licking at your fur. You watch him, golden eyes wide and weary at having the big male so close to your vulnerable throat. But then he steps back and offers his own throat, and you relax even more as you snuffle forward, scenting him deeply.
Chibs smelled like a canine. Musky and rough, but there was also something else there. You pressed your nose closer to him, nostrils flaring. You could pick up the scent of leather and the smell of the cigarettes he chain-smokes—his own, unique smell.
Now that you’d calmed down a little bit, your body was eagerly telling you that these three idiots were yours now. Fate had been kind enough to give you a pack of wolves and you their mate. So much for being free and single.
“Run!”
Tig jumps forward again, big body shoving Chibs out of the way and getting in your space now that it doesn’t look like he’d get the same vicious treatment Jax had received. The other two pace around, growing more excited now that it seemed like your body had completed the change. You pick up on it through the connection you feel, and it’s impossible to ignore.
Decision made, you turn and take off like a shot through the woods, weaving around fallen logs and jumping over ditches in the ground. You can hear them behind you, their breathing loud in your ears as you sprint through the woods.
You don’t know how long you ran for, only that you feel exhausted but satisfied by the time you make it back to the clearing. The longer you’d ran, the more you understood your new situation. Chibs explained, in short bursts, what had happened to you and what that meant. You still weren’t very happy, but it wasn’t like they had intentionally gone out to change you into a werewolf.
Some hours later, you collapse in the middle of the clearing, grunting when Jax slumps on top of you, and the other two males curl around your sides like leeches. A low chuff of pleasure escapes your throat when Jax begins to groom behind one of your ears, his teeth nipping and tongue stroking over tawny fur to fix it back into place.
It was evening now, and you felt your eyes begin to grow heavy again, body slumping under the combined weight of your mates. You exhale, the sound explosive as you relax completely, eyes sliding shut once again.
When you wake again, it seems like your body has decided to change once more. You felt much more human now, but the heavy feeling of instincts still sat in the back of your mind. You crack an eye open, surprised to see flesh instead of fur. Well, at least not a lot of fur.
You and the males had shifted halfway through your nap—human bodies, but with some additional features like tails and big ears. You flexed your hands, eyes lingering on the claws that poked out over the tips of your fingers. The boys were in similar states, and you feel that old anger rear its head when you see their faces.
With a growl, you lunged forward and grabbed the closest one, who just so happened to be Tig. He yelped when your claws dug into his bare chest as the two of you rolled away from the puppy pile. You end up on top, legs caging him in around the waist as you glared down at him, ears pinned back and sharp canines on display.
“Who spends their full moon so close to the park?” You demand hotly and yelp when Tig gets his bearings and grabs you by the hips, tugging you down and rolling so that he looms over you. One big hand gathers both your wrists and slams them down above your head, pinning you with a feral grin.
“Who walks old trails in the middle of the night?” Tig demands right back. His eyes rake over you, and a low grumble of pleasure rumbles up in his chest. They had gotten so lucky with you as their mate.
His free hand smooths up your bare side, claws gently scarping over soft skin that shivers at his touch. Tig dips his head and shoves his face in the crook of your neck, breathing you in and mouthing wetly at your scent gland, another addition that you would have to get used to. He grinned at the low sound of pleasure you made and did it again, whining at the taste of your sweat.
“He’s right, love,” Chibs drawls, and you open your eyes to see him hovering just behind Tig. Your gaze darkens in interest when he smooths a hand over the other man’s back, his fingers brushing through curly hair and then scratching at dark brown ears.
“Dangerous thing, walking alone at night,” he continues, teeth flashing with each word, “One could end up…trapped.”
Chibs pushes Tig’s head down, and you whimper when the pressure of his teeth scrape over your throat, hard enough with the assistance to sting. You see him grin above you, his canines gleaming in the moonlight.
“Wrong place, wrong time,” You rasp under them. Your hands flex against Tig’s chest, and you go from clawing in anger to gripping with growing pleasure. Your tail sweeps back and forth behind you, wagging like it had a mind of its own.
“Nah, baby,” Jax rumbles and slides up on your other side. His body is a work of art, all tense muscles and shining sweat. He slides a hand into your hair, claws biting into your scalp, but the slight pain only makes heat bloom in your stomach.
“We’ve wanted you for months, now,” He admits and shifts, moving close enough that you could nearly kiss him, “Knew you were ours the second you walked through the office door.”
Your brow furrows, and you lick your lips, wetting your mouth, “Why not say anything?”
“We didn’t want to scare you, lass,” Chibs chimes in, and you cut your eyes over at him, watching as he absentmindedly pets Tig. His free hand trails along your thigh, fingers dipping dangerously close to where you burn the hottest.
“Three men, all needing you like we need oxygen to breathe,” Jax chimes in, and his touch turns gentle, claws tugging knots out of your hair. You sigh at the grooming, eyes heavy while you listen to them explain. “Who are also werewolves? What girl wouldn’t be fucking terrified?”
You hum and nod along. They had a point there. While you knew the bikers, you didn’t know them beyond what they did for your car. Kind of hard to explain the werewolf thing to a close friend, let alone a woman who only came by the shop every couple of months.
“That makes sense,” You say and squirm under Tig’s weight, flexing your hands. The man whines and pins you harder, refusing to allow you to leave even a little bit.
“But why me?”
“Dunno,” Chibs says lowly. He moves to stretch out with you in the grass, his hand still playing with your thigh while the other pets his fellow packmate, “But what the wolf wants, the wolf gets, lass.”
“Talkin’ too much,” Tig suddenly whines and grinds down, his cock heavy and flushed as he grinds down against your hip, “Need ya, baby.”
“Tig’s right,” Jax rumbles and pushes at the other wolf, laughing when Tig snarls and snaps at him, gripping you tightly as he ruts against you, seeking any kind of friction. The instincts had always hit Tig the hardest between the three of them. Even half shifted, he was more beast than human.
“Enough talk,” Chibs finishes, and his teasing comes to an end. A sharp whine rips from your throat when his fingers slide through your sticky folds, and the Scot groans at how wet you are.
“Fuckin’ soaked, love,” He rumbles and grins, gathering slick on the tips of his fingers and circling your clit. You grit your teeth and snarl at the pleasure; the sounds the four of you make are nothing short of animalistic.
Tig laps at your scent gland again, his lips coming away shiny with slick oil that sluggishly wells up through the pores on your throat. The oil is drenched in your scent, the source of the musky canine smell that’s mixed with the vague scent of wildflowers and honey. His hips jerk against your own, tail sweeping behind him in his excitement and growing impatience.
“Gonna stuff ya full, mate,” Tig rasps against your throat, so gone that he hardly even takes notice of anything that he is saying, “Gonna be a good mate. Gonna look so fucking good all round and soft. Full of our pups. Fuck.”
You lose track of who is who quickly. Hands are everywhere, your legs spread, and your cunt dripping with slick. One of them lies between your thighs; the sound he makes is low and obscene as he eats you like the most succulent peach. Lips and tongue smacking, curling, and sliding through slick-sticky folds.
Your mouth is wrapped around a cock, and the male above you grunts and whines, his hips snapping forward. You whine when you gag, spit, and precum spilling from between your lips to leak down your chin. You feel every drag of their cock, the way it leaks precum, bitter and tacky across the back of your tongue, can feel the way it slides down, your throat working to swallow it all so that you don’t choke.
You look up through teary eyes, vision blurry from the liquid to see Jax above you, his lips pulled back in a vicious snarl as he fucks your throat, “Takin’ it so well, baby. You’ll be a good mate, right? Gonna swallow my load, yeah?”
His words are filthy and demeaning, but they just make you leak heavier and moan louder, body alight with burning arousal that makes it hard to see straight. A low growl rumbles from your chest when thick fingers suddenly prod at your back door, only to break into a moan when the one between your thighs wraps his tongue around your clit and sucks.
“She can take all o’ us,” Chibs rasps from behind you and drags his fingers over your puckered hole again, grinning against your spine when he leans down to press a kiss against the base of your tail, soft fur tickling his chin, “Three cocks, three holes.”
“The math works,” Jax growls and snaps his hips forward again, grinning when you gag and slobber around his cock. He watches your ears pin back, your tail wagging like mad, their mate so lost to it that it makes the beast within him howl with delight.
Tig doesn’t care. He can’t even hear what the other males are saying, too focused on the dripping cunt before him that he was not about to stop feasting on. His face was coated with creamy slick, his lips swollen, and his eyes glassy from lust. The man had gotten lost in your pussy. Drunk.
Chibs sucks his own fingers into his mouth, thoroughly coating them before he drops his hand back to your ass, smoothing his fingers back and forth before carefully adding pressure. Jax and Tig keep you plenty distracted while their pack mate works you open with careful fingers, adding one after the other until you are comfortably taking three thick digits.
You pant and whine around Jax’s cock, your body lax between your mates as they draw pleasure from your worn body. Your mind feels cloudy, like you are looking at everything through a transparent film. You’ve never felt like this before, surrounded from all sides, safe and secure, and pleasured by the beasts who call you theirs.
“That’s it, sweet mate,” Jax coos behind you. You don’t know when, but they’d switched around on you. His cock pistoned in and out of your backside, heavy balls bouncing off your ass, flesh soaked in a mix of cum and slick.
Tig moaned and thrashed under you, head tossed back and clawed hands digging into the meat of your hips. He was babbling, his words slurring and filthy, drool leaking past his lips and down his chin. He ground into your cunt, his knot swelling by the second until he was locked within. His sharp teeth gnashes and he howls when he comes.
Your pussy is already sore and oversensitive from previous rounds of mating. Jax had knotted you first, his right as head of pack giving him that privilege. His knot had hardly popped free of your cunt before you were being filled again, Chibs sliding home with a snarl as he took up Jax’s lost space.
He was just as attentive as Jax had been, already close to the edge after taking your ass for himself. Chibs had fucked you with slow, dragging thrusts that left you out of breath, your claws dragging through the ground and ripping up dirt. Tig had slid in behind you, snarling when the tip of his cock caught your hole and sucked him in while Chibs lost it under you, his knot locked as he pumped you full of thick seed.
Now, Chibs lies just beside you, his ears pinned and tail thumping against the ground as he watches his pack mates fuck you, eyes locked on the way Tig’s knot catches, your cunt like a vice, milking him dry. His hand strokes his prick, chest heaving as pleasure builds. The sight of you being taken by his brothers will forever be burned in his mind, an escape for whenever he wanted it in the future. After months of wanting, you were theirs.
Later, the four of you lie together in a puppy pile, limbs tangled as you watch Chibs and Tig share slow kisses where you’re pressed against Jax’s chest. You watch the familiar way they move against one another, hands lazily wandering and teeth leaving behind dark marks that would fade within the hour. Jax strokes a hand down your hip, his free one holding a lit cigarette while he watches the other two with you.
At first, Tig, needy and desperate even after hours of mating, had tried to drag you under him, but you’d snarled and kicked at him, far too sore for another round so soon. Chibs had taken pity on the pouting beast and dragged him down, his hands tangled in curly black hair as they whined and ground against the other.
“Are they always this shameless?” You ask with a curious look. He takes a draw, the cherry glowing red before he offers the cigarette to you. You take the offer and breathe deeply, sighing as the nicotine settles hot in your lungs.
“You’ll get used to it,” Jax murmurs and takes the cigarette when you offer it back to him. You shift to stretch your leg out and slide your foot up and down Chibs’ leg. He makes a low sound and cuts his eyes over to you from where he is pinned under the other werewolf, his eyes narrowing in amused warning.
You hum and smirk back, head tilting back to rest against Jax’s chest as you sigh, long and slow. This wasn’t how you expected your weekend to go, but now that you are here, you can’t find it in yourself to regret any of it. Not when you feel so whole, like you’re finally where you’ve always belonged, here, surrounded by your mates in the fading light of the full moon.
Pairings! Female Reader x Jax Tig & Chibs - Jax x Tig x Chibs
Reverse Harem Werewolf AU
Summary! All you were trying to do was go for a nice walk after work. Now you're suddenly the mate of three men who no one in Charming even knew were supernatural creatures.
6.2k of pure indulgent werewolf smut.
It’s on a random Tuesday when your life changes irrefutably. You’re on a walk, meandering through the overgrown trails in Charming’s local park, when the thick foliage on your right shakes. You have just enough time to brace yourself before a massive furry body comes hurling into you, knocking you on your back. Two heavy paws keep you pinned by your shoulders, and you are left staring up into the salivating maw of the biggest wolf you’ve ever seen.
Its fur was thick and matted around its scruff, the coloring a dark brown that tapered into silvery tan. Its tail whipped back and forth, ears shoved forward as it drops its big head and snuffles against your throat, cold nose bumping against your flesh as it breathes you in.
You stay frozen, terrified that it would rip into you if you made the wrong move. Your heart pounds, blood rushing in your ears as you stare at the beast, cautiously shifting your eyes until you catch golden ones that look far too intelligent to make you feel comfortable.
But the longer you lie there, the more you are sure that the wolf won’t hurt you. But it was heavy, and those claws were digging into your shoulders.
“Can-,” You begin and clear your throat, licking your lips and clicking your tongue to wet your mouth, “Can you get off me?”
You feel stupid for talking to the beast like it might understand you, so when the wolf whines and carefully shifts his weight off of you, you feel the world narrow in around you. You swallow hard and shift, sitting up and then standing, dusting your back off as you stare at the wolf who stares right back at you.
Before you can do something equally foolish and ask the beast if it can understand you, the woods shake another wolf comes barreling into the path, slamming into the brown one and sending them both careening into the bushes. You blink and take a cautious step forward when the sound of frustrated snarling reaches your ears. The two of them were in a tangled heap; the new wolf, a tiny bit smaller and more silver with age, had the other by the scruff, pearly canines on display as he shook his head.
The brown one whined and went limp, but you noticed that his eyes stayed locked on you. And so was the other wolf now that he had noticed you watching the two of them. You saw his nostrils flare wide, most likely taking in your scent, and then the terrifying sight of those golden eyes darkening.
You take a step back, hands rising in surrender, “I- please, don’t eat me?”
The two stare at you, and you are left blinking in dumbfoundment when they suddenly start to laugh. Loud, barking canine yips that echoed in the woods. You purse your lips and cross your arms, brow furrowing. You think asking not to be eaten was a perfectly fine response to having two apex predators staring at you.
“They’re not gonna eat you.”
You jump at the sudden voice and whip around to see none other than Jax Teller standing there. You take him in, eyes drinking in the way his jeans hang low and crooked, as if he’d been in a hurry to put them on. He was shirtless and without shoes, making your confusion grow tenfold.
“Jax?” You ask and cock a brow. You only knew him through the occasional oil change over at the lot, “Where are your clothes?”
You tense when he steps into your space. There was something about him, his body tense, jaw set, and his shoulders locked. You freeze when a big hand snags you by the jaw, tilting your head back as he bends, shoving his nose in the hollow of your throat. You hear him breathe you in, and then the unmistakable wet drag of his tongue over your pulse point.
You yelp and shove at him, taking a step back only to knock into two furry bodies who had closed in around the two of you. You wipe at your neck, eyes wide.
“What the fuck, Jax?” You grouch and glare at him. He catches you by both wrists, tugging you forward and into his chest. His eyes, usually a light blue that reminded you of the sky, were a dark, rugged gold. Your body tingled with fear, and it deepened when you felt two cold noses pressing against you. One nose lingered at the small of your back, while the other snuffled over your hip and then pressed into the meat of your inner thigh.
“Christ, doll,” Jax rasps, and you cut your eyes back up at him, unaware that you had dropped them away from his face. Your throat works at that ravenous look in his eyes, and you see how his eyes dart from your lips to your pulse point. He licks his lips, and a sharp sound escapes you when drool falls from his mouth to seep into the fabric of your shirt.
“You smell fuckin’ amazing.”
The smaller wolf makes a low growl of what you can only assume is agreement before shoving his face closer, muzzle twitching when the other wolf whines and buts closer. You watch teeth flash, the silver one snapping at a fuzzy brown ear.
“What’s going on?” You demand hotly when Jax sniffs you again. You tug at your wrists, wincing when he tightens his grip and drags you another step closer, his bare chest pressed tight against your shirt.
“Shouldn’t have come out here today, sweetheart,” Jax rumbles, and you feel the way his chest vibrates with every word. Your mouth goes dry, and your struggles increase: “Wasn’t a good time for an evening walk.”
“Jax,” You snap tightly. He looks drunk, golden eyes glazed over with a sort of heat that you don’t recognize. It’s different, otherworldly.
The wolves whine and stamp their paws, fluffy tails swishing back and forth as they bay for your attention. The brown one headbuts you again, nosing at where Jax has your wrists trapped and nipping gently at your knuckles.
“Sorry, doll,” Jax says, and then he is in your space again, pressing his face against your throat, tongue dragging across your flesh, and groaning at the taste of your sweat.
“Fucking perfect,” He groaned and did it again, making you yelp at the sudden scrape of sharp teeth across your throat, “Can’t help myself.”
You see, you’d walked right past where the werewolf pack within SAMCRO had decided to spend the full moon. The beastly side of them came out exponentially during that time, leaving them running high on instincts instead of human nature. The pack consisted of Jax, Tig, and Chibs, a small but strong pack whose territory spanned from Washington State down to Nevada. The pack as a whole was much bigger than just the three of them, but they were the ones who ruled over the Redwood Chapter.
Usually, a full moon consisted of the three of them running the woods within Charming, fighting and thrashing each other until the raging heat burned out. Occasionally, they’d fall in with each other after a particularly long run, half shifting and seeking release against each other like the animals they were.
But you? Your very presence changed the entire dynamic.
Tig had taken off like a shot the second your scent had hit his nose, nearly tripping over himself in his haste to find you. Jax hadn’t even had time to shift before Chibs was right behind the other wolf, forcing Jax to curse and run after them barefoot and shirtless.
They recognized you from the shop, coming by whenever your car needed any kind of maintenance. They’d agreed to leave you alone even though your scent called to them just as strongly then as it did now. The only difference was their lack of self-control due to the full moon. Now all bets were off.
“What is wrong with you?” You demand and jerk in his hold again, chest heaving as that fear seeps into your scent.
They catch it the second the sour smell floods your normally sweet scent, and Jax’s grip on you loosens while the wolves whine and press themselves against you, big golden eyes distressed. Those big hands smooth up from your wrists and to your shoulders, where Jax holds you still, his golden eyes locking with your own.
“Ain’t gonna hurt ya, sweetheart,” He murmurs and leans in, dragging the bridge of his nose along your jaw, groaning as he scents you, “Just need you to trust me.”
“With what?” You demand lowly, and you shove at the shaggy wolves now that your hands are free, frowning when they whine as you push at them. You hadn’t thought that Jax even had dogs, and you were pretty sure owning wolves was illegal in California.
“With us,” Jax says, but his rough answers just leave you even more confused. What did he mean by us? Was he talking about the canines that couldn’t seem to stop whining for attention?
But you don’t get your answer. Jax could feel the beast raging under his skin, urging him to shift and drag the pack’s new member back to their den and smother them in their scent. He drops his hands and groans, stepping back as he starts to jerk at his jeans.
Your cheeks go pink, and you stand in shock as Jax rips his jeans and then his boxers off, leaving him nude before your very eyes. It doesn’t last long, however. A sickening crack echoes on the trail, and you watch in growing horror as Jax falls to his hands and knees and starts to shift. The change goes by faster than you expected, and soon, instead of a human, a massive, shaggy blonde wolf sits where Jax was seconds before.
“What the fuck,” You breathe and stumble back, heart hammering in your chest. Sure, everyone knew about werewolves, but they were fucking fairytales, not reality.
Jax shakes himself and then stands, golden eyes locking onto you, and immediately he joins the other two canines in shoving at you, nudging your hand until it falls between a pair of fluffy blonde ears. You find your hand moving on its own, nails digging into his scruff and scratching Jax behind the ears. It’s then that you begin to gather a bit of an understanding of your current situation.
You look at the darkest wolf, the one tipped in more silver than the other two. You watch how he held himself, that look in those golden eyes when he raised his muzzle to nose at your stomach. Carefully, you offer your free hand, and he rests his jaw in your palm, a low huff escaping him.
“Chibs?” You ask carefully, and his ears perk up, those golden eyes lighting up and cutting up to you expectantly. You lick your lips and look at the brown wolf who had snagged your shirt sleeve with his teeth and started to tug you in the direction that the three of them had come from.
“Tig?” You say then and brown ears shove forward, a low whine loud in his chest as he tugs your sleeve again, the fabric straining between the two of you.
“What the hell,” You breathe again and stare at the three of them as they continue to grovel and wallow around you. You have no idea what you’re supposed to do in this situation, and maybe you ought not, but when all three of them start to tug you in the direction they’d come from, well…you went.
The clearing they led you to had been a good mile further into the woods. An overgrown dirt trail leads away, and you can see a pickup truck parked further back. They nudge and shove at you until you lie in the grass, and then they surround you, pressing in on all sides. Tig, the biggest and roughest of the three, makes himself at home across your chest, his jaw resting on his big paws as he stares up at your face, fluffy tail wagging like mad behind him.
Jax, blonde and sleeker than the other two, curls up along your right side, shoving his face in the crook of your neck, his cold nose pressed right against your pulse point. You shiver when his tongue drags over the sensitive spot. Chibs takes up your other side, his body stretched out along your own, where he rests his jaw on your thigh.
You are in the center of a very warm and vaguely smelly puppy pile, and all you’d wanted to do this evening was take a relaxing walk to clear your head after work. Instead, you lie there, trapped between three massive wolves who are also apparently the resident MC in your town.
“This is crazy,” You comment at some point. You have one hand stroking Tig’s tangled fur and the other buried in Jax’s thick scruff around his throat, “You know this, right?”
A rough huff of hot air against your throat is your answer, and you roll your head to stare at Jax, who just nuzzles closer like he could live off even this tiny bit of attention.
“I want answers after this,” You continue, even as you find yourself relaxing even more under the pack, eyes growing heavy with a sudden exhaustion. Your brain feels fuzzy, like a cloud had swept through and then lingered. You yawn and slow blink.
The three wolves share looks as you begin to fall asleep. If they hadn’t known that you were their mate, then they sure did now.
Werewolves didn’t need to bite the pack matriarch when they found them. Male werewolves released a certain hormone that reacted with the dormant cells within their body, and instead of a messy, painful shift, your body would go into a deep slumber as the hormones worked to change it to better suit the needs of the pack.
Would you be furious once you woke up? Most definitely, but instincts didn’t care about things like consent.
Tig was nearly going nuts with said instincts. His entire body was shivering with badly contained anticipation. They’d been watching you, wanting you since that first day you coasted into the lot complaining about bad breaks and hitting a squirrel. He squirmed closer, wet nose bumping against his mate’s cheek as he whined.
“smells so good.”
Only Chibs and Jax could hear the whine of want through the pack bond. He could feel their easy agreement through the connection, a connection you would soon share with them. Tig could already feel the beginnings of it forming.
“Sunshine and rain.”
Chibs rumbled low in his throat and dragged his scarred muzzle over your thigh, unable to help himself from dipping between your legs and taking a big whiff of heat. Another rough sound left him, and he wallowed closer, tail thumping against the ground.
“Gonna be mad.”
Jax’s voice was a little subdued, and he nosed forward again, golden eyes locked on your even breathing. He felt terrible that he couldn’t even explain to you before the change took hold of him. Now you were trapped between them, an unwilling addition to their pack.
Tig grunted and wacked Jax with a big paw, yipping in amusement when Jax snapped sharp teeth at his scruff.
“Will not,” Tig rumbles back over the connection, and his lips tug back in a canine smile as he growled playfully at Jax, “Be fine.”
Jax snarled right back, less playful and more agitated with Tig’s carelessness. Their aggression is broken up with Chibs standing and snapping at both of them, sharp teeth nipping their ears, before he settles back down again.
“Behave.”
They had a long wait ahead of them. They didn’t know how long it would take your body to complete the change that they had unintentionally initiated, but they would be by your side the entire time.
At least one of them stayed with you as the night dragged on. Tig was too full of energy to stay still, and Jax was too impatient, his chest tight with growing anxiousness. Chibs had barked at them to fuck off at some point, so now he lay with most of his furry body draped over you, watching the other two tussle like pups.
Chibs could smell your body changing. Your scent deepened, becoming heavier with a canine musk that made his teeth ache with the sharp need to lock his jaw around the back of your neck and take. Which he would, but only when the time was right, and they still had a long way to go.
The sun was near its peak when your body began to stir. You stayed unconscious, but they were witness to the way your flesh tore and reformed, tawny fur sprouting in its place. Your teeth sharpened, and your ears elongated, fingers curling to make room for thick paw pads and claws. They stood around you, mesmerized by the sight of the pretty she-wolf lying on her side.
You were beautiful, your fur sleek and your body built for speed. Tig prances in place, big paws thudding against the ground, his golden eyes raking over your new body. He wants to wallow all over you, cover you in his scent and the scent of pack.
Jax whines beside him, his tail wagging behind him in big arcs that kick up dirt. He drops to his belly and crawls forward, eyes locked on the way your chest expands and concaves, in and out.
“Beautiful”
Chibs’ voice whispers through the connection, and he mirrors Jax, dropping to drag himself forward with a soft chuff, ears pinned back against his skull, claws digging into the soft earth as he breathes in your scent.
The connection throbs between the group of wolves, and it’s the overwhelming sensation of three males unconsciously chanting mate mate mate that wakes you up.
The first thing you register is how strongly everything smells right now. The dirt, the grass, and the trees. The very air itself smelled sweet, but it was the three scents surrounding you that had your attention. Each one was unique, but still shared a core scent that you were now realizing you shared as well. Everything felt sharp, like your senses had been dialed up to ten.
You cracked open your eyes next and immediately squinted at the glare of the sun. You blink, eyes slowly adjusting before you roll your eyes to look around, body feeling too stiff to move just yet.
Tig is the first thing you see. The brown wolf looks so excited that you’re surprised that he’s not combusted on the spot. He taps in place, ears shoved forward, and his jaw lax as he panted.
“Awake!”
You jerk at the sound of his voice, loud and clear in your head. You blink at him and then draw up the willpower to actually move. Slowly, you shift, only to stall when you see thick tawny fur instead of the purple shirt you’d been wearing. A gasp rips through your throat, but it comes out far less human and far more beastly.
Somehow, you are able to get your feet- paws!- under you and stand up. You look down, chest beginning to heave when you spot the fluffy length of your tail hanging between your hind legs. You shake where you stand, trying and failing to come up with any kind of logical explanation.
“From us.”
You nearly stumble over your paws when you whip your head around at the sound of Jax’s voice. He stands there, looking contrite with his tail tucked between his legs and his ears pinned to his skull. His head is lowered, turned to the side to look up at you with a single eye. Instinctively, you understand the look of submission, but that doesn’t come close to appeasing the anger that suddenly blooms inside of you.
With a snarl, you lunge at Jax. Any uncertainty using your new body disappeared as you spring forward and slam into him. The two of you roll, and you claw and snap, sharp teeth ripping at his scruff and the sensitive edges of his ears. Jax yelps and rears back, trying to get away from you without having to fight you off of him.
Tig howls in laughter behind the two of you, dropping to the grass and wallowing as he yips, legs stuck up in the air as his tongue lolls out the side of his mouth.
Chibs just huffs and lopes forward, being the responsible one once more, and snagging you by the scruff, jaw locked but still gentle as he tugs you off Jax. You snarl and lunge at him, but Chibs just dances out of the way.
Tig suddenly darts forward and nips your tail, earning him a yelp and a sharp growl from you. You tuck your tail and pin your ears, growling at the three males who surround you. You are on edge, but they know exactly what you need.
“Run!”
Tig pounces forward again and nips at you, playful as he slams his front paws down, his expression big and dopey. His excitement is contagious, and Jax finds himself following his pack mates' lead, darting forward to shove his forehead into your shoulder. You stumble and growl at them, but then you feel the traitorous motion of your tail starting to wag.
Your hackles ease when Chibs lopes forward and shoves his scarred muzzle in your face, nosing at your jaw and then licking at your fur. You watch him, golden eyes wide and weary at having the big male so close to your vulnerable throat. But then he steps back and offers his own throat, and you relax even more as you snuffle forward, scenting him deeply.
Chibs smelled like a canine. Musky and rough, but there was also something else there. You pressed your nose closer to him, nostrils flaring. You could pick up the scent of leather and the smell of the cigarettes he chain-smokes—his own, unique smell.
Now that you’d calmed down a little bit, your body was eagerly telling you that these three idiots were yours now. Fate had been kind enough to give you a pack of wolves and you their mate. So much for being free and single.
“Run!”
Tig jumps forward again, big body shoving Chibs out of the way and getting in your space now that it doesn’t look like he’d get the same vicious treatment Jax had received. The other two pace around, growing more excited now that it seemed like your body had completed the change. You pick up on it through the connection you feel, and it’s impossible to ignore.
Decision made, you turn and take off like a shot through the woods, weaving around fallen logs and jumping over ditches in the ground. You can hear them behind you, their breathing loud in your ears as you sprint through the woods.
You don’t know how long you ran for, only that you feel exhausted but satisfied by the time you make it back to the clearing. The longer you’d ran, the more you understood your new situation. Chibs explained, in short bursts, what had happened to you and what that meant. You still weren’t very happy, but it wasn’t like they had intentionally gone out to change you into a werewolf.
Some hours later, you collapse in the middle of the clearing, grunting when Jax slumps on top of you, and the other two males curl around your sides like leeches. A low chuff of pleasure escapes your throat when Jax begins to groom behind one of your ears, his teeth nipping and tongue stroking over tawny fur to fix it back into place.
It was evening now, and you felt your eyes begin to grow heavy again, body slumping under the combined weight of your mates. You exhale, the sound explosive as you relax completely, eyes sliding shut once again.
When you wake again, it seems like your body has decided to change once more. You felt much more human now, but the heavy feeling of instincts still sat in the back of your mind. You crack an eye open, surprised to see flesh instead of fur. Well, at least not a lot of fur.
You and the males had shifted halfway through your nap—human bodies, but with some additional features like tails and big ears. You flexed your hands, eyes lingering on the claws that poked out over the tips of your fingers. The boys were in similar states, and you feel that old anger rear its head when you see their faces.
With a growl, you lunged forward and grabbed the closest one, who just so happened to be Tig. He yelped when your claws dug into his bare chest as the two of you rolled away from the puppy pile. You end up on top, legs caging him in around the waist as you glared down at him, ears pinned back and sharp canines on display.
“Who spends their full moon so close to the park?” You demand hotly and yelp when Tig gets his bearings and grabs you by the hips, tugging you down and rolling so that he looms over you. One big hand gathers both your wrists and slams them down above your head, pinning you with a feral grin.
“Who walks old trails in the middle of the night?” Tig demands right back. His eyes rake over you, and a low grumble of pleasure rumbles up in his chest. They had gotten so lucky with you as their mate.
His free hand smooths up your bare side, claws gently scarping over soft skin that shivers at his touch. Tig dips his head and shoves his face in the crook of your neck, breathing you in and mouthing wetly at your scent gland, another addition that you would have to get used to. He grinned at the low sound of pleasure you made and did it again, whining at the taste of your sweat.
“He’s right, love,” Chibs drawls, and you open your eyes to see him hovering just behind Tig. Your gaze darkens in interest when he smooths a hand over the other man’s back, his fingers brushing through curly hair and then scratching at dark brown ears.
“Dangerous thing, walking alone at night,” he continues, teeth flashing with each word, “One could end up…trapped.”
Chibs pushes Tig’s head down, and you whimper when the pressure of his teeth scrape over your throat, hard enough with the assistance to sting. You see him grin above you, his canines gleaming in the moonlight.
“Wrong place, wrong time,” You rasp under them. Your hands flex against Tig’s chest, and you go from clawing in anger to gripping with growing pleasure. Your tail sweeps back and forth behind you, wagging like it had a mind of its own.
“Nah, baby,” Jax rumbles and slides up on your other side. His body is a work of art, all tense muscles and shining sweat. He slides a hand into your hair, claws biting into your scalp, but the slight pain only makes heat bloom in your stomach.
“We’ve wanted you for months, now,” He admits and shifts, moving close enough that you could nearly kiss him, “Knew you were ours the second you walked through the office door.”
Your brow furrows, and you lick your lips, wetting your mouth, “Why not say anything?”
“We didn’t want to scare you, lass,” Chibs chimes in, and you cut your eyes over at him, watching as he absentmindedly pets Tig. His free hand trails along your thigh, fingers dipping dangerously close to where you burn the hottest.
“Three men, all needing you like we need oxygen to breathe,” Jax chimes in, and his touch turns gentle, claws tugging knots out of your hair. You sigh at the grooming, eyes heavy while you listen to them explain. “Who are also werewolves? What girl wouldn’t be fucking terrified?”
You hum and nod along. They had a point there. While you knew the bikers, you didn’t know them beyond what they did for your car. Kind of hard to explain the werewolf thing to a close friend, let alone a woman who only came by the shop every couple of months.
“That makes sense,” You say and squirm under Tig’s weight, flexing your hands. The man whines and pins you harder, refusing to allow you to leave even a little bit.
“But why me?”
“Dunno,” Chibs says lowly. He moves to stretch out with you in the grass, his hand still playing with your thigh while the other pets his fellow packmate, “But what the wolf wants, the wolf gets, lass.”
“Talkin’ too much,” Tig suddenly whines and grinds down, his cock heavy and flushed as he grinds down against your hip, “Need ya, baby.”
“Tig’s right,” Jax rumbles and pushes at the other wolf, laughing when Tig snarls and snaps at him, gripping you tightly as he ruts against you, seeking any kind of friction. The instincts had always hit Tig the hardest between the three of them. Even half shifted, he was more beast than human.
“Enough talk,” Chibs finishes, and his teasing comes to an end. A sharp whine rips from your throat when his fingers slide through your sticky folds, and the Scot groans at how wet you are.
“Fuckin’ soaked, love,” He rumbles and grins, gathering slick on the tips of his fingers and circling your clit. You grit your teeth and snarl at the pleasure; the sounds the four of you make are nothing short of animalistic.
Tig laps at your scent gland again, his lips coming away shiny with slick oil that sluggishly wells up through the pores on your throat. The oil is drenched in your scent, the source of the musky canine smell that’s mixed with the vague scent of wildflowers and honey. His hips jerk against your own, tail sweeping behind him in his excitement and growing impatience.
“Gonna stuff ya full, mate,” Tig rasps against your throat, so gone that he hardly even takes notice of anything that he is saying, “Gonna be a good mate. Gonna look so fucking good all round and soft. Full of our pups. Fuck.”
You lose track of who is who quickly. Hands are everywhere, your legs spread, and your cunt dripping with slick. One of them lies between your thighs; the sound he makes is low and obscene as he eats you like the most succulent peach. Lips and tongue smacking, curling, and sliding through slick-sticky folds.
Your mouth is wrapped around a cock, and the male above you grunts and whines, his hips snapping forward. You whine when you gag, spit, and precum spilling from between your lips to leak down your chin. You feel every drag of their cock, the way it leaks precum, bitter and tacky across the back of your tongue, can feel the way it slides down, your throat working to swallow it all so that you don’t choke.
You look up through teary eyes, vision blurry from the liquid to see Jax above you, his lips pulled back in a vicious snarl as he fucks your throat, “Takin’ it so well, baby. You’ll be a good mate, right? Gonna swallow my load, yeah?”
His words are filthy and demeaning, but they just make you leak heavier and moan louder, body alight with burning arousal that makes it hard to see straight. A low growl rumbles from your chest when thick fingers suddenly prod at your back door, only to break into a moan when the one between your thighs wraps his tongue around your clit and sucks.
“She can take all o’ us,” Chibs rasps from behind you and drags his fingers over your puckered hole again, grinning against your spine when he leans down to press a kiss against the base of your tail, soft fur tickling his chin, “Three cocks, three holes.”
“The math works,” Jax growls and snaps his hips forward again, grinning when you gag and slobber around his cock. He watches your ears pin back, your tail wagging like mad, their mate so lost to it that it makes the beast within him howl with delight.
Tig doesn’t care. He can’t even hear what the other males are saying, too focused on the dripping cunt before him that he was not about to stop feasting on. His face was coated with creamy slick, his lips swollen, and his eyes glassy from lust. The man had gotten lost in your pussy. Drunk.
Chibs sucks his own fingers into his mouth, thoroughly coating them before he drops his hand back to your ass, smoothing his fingers back and forth before carefully adding pressure. Jax and Tig keep you plenty distracted while their pack mate works you open with careful fingers, adding one after the other until you are comfortably taking three thick digits.
You pant and whine around Jax’s cock, your body lax between your mates as they draw pleasure from your worn body. Your mind feels cloudy, like you are looking at everything through a transparent film. You’ve never felt like this before, surrounded from all sides, safe and secure, and pleasured by the beasts who call you theirs.
“That’s it, sweet mate,” Jax coos behind you. You don’t know when, but they’d switched around on you. His cock pistoned in and out of your backside, heavy balls bouncing off your ass, flesh soaked in a mix of cum and slick.
Tig moaned and thrashed under you, head tossed back and clawed hands digging into the meat of your hips. He was babbling, his words slurring and filthy, drool leaking past his lips and down his chin. He ground into your cunt, his knot swelling by the second until he was locked within. His sharp teeth gnashes and he howls when he comes.
Your pussy is already sore and oversensitive from previous rounds of mating. Jax had knotted you first, his right as head of pack giving him that privilege. His knot had hardly popped free of your cunt before you were being filled again, Chibs sliding home with a snarl as he took up Jax’s lost space.
He was just as attentive as Jax had been, already close to the edge after taking your ass for himself. Chibs had fucked you with slow, dragging thrusts that left you out of breath, your claws dragging through the ground and ripping up dirt. Tig had slid in behind you, snarling when the tip of his cock caught your hole and sucked him in while Chibs lost it under you, his knot locked as he pumped you full of thick seed.
Now, Chibs lies just beside you, his ears pinned and tail thumping against the ground as he watches his pack mates fuck you, eyes locked on the way Tig’s knot catches, your cunt like a vice, milking him dry. His hand strokes his prick, chest heaving as pleasure builds. The sight of you being taken by his brothers will forever be burned in his mind, an escape for whenever he wanted it in the future. After months of wanting, you were theirs.
Later, the four of you lie together in a puppy pile, limbs tangled as you watch Chibs and Tig share slow kisses where you’re pressed against Jax’s chest. You watch the familiar way they move against one another, hands lazily wandering and teeth leaving behind dark marks that would fade within the hour. Jax strokes a hand down your hip, his free one holding a lit cigarette while he watches the other two with you.
At first, Tig, needy and desperate even after hours of mating, had tried to drag you under him, but you’d snarled and kicked at him, far too sore for another round so soon. Chibs had taken pity on the pouting beast and dragged him down, his hands tangled in curly black hair as they whined and ground against the other.
“Are they always this shameless?” You ask with a curious look. He takes a draw, the cherry glowing red before he offers the cigarette to you. You take the offer and breathe deeply, sighing as the nicotine settles hot in your lungs.
“You’ll get used to it,” Jax murmurs and takes the cigarette when you offer it back to him. You shift to stretch your leg out and slide your foot up and down Chibs’ leg. He makes a low sound and cuts his eyes over to you from where he is pinned under the other werewolf, his eyes narrowing in amused warning.
You hum and smirk back, head tilting back to rest against Jax’s chest as you sigh, long and slow. This wasn’t how you expected your weekend to go, but now that you are here, you can’t find it in yourself to regret any of it. Not when you feel so whole, like you’re finally where you’ve always belonged, here, surrounded by your mates in the fading light of the full moon.
