#me at my friend whenever we're hanging out: listen I can't commit for shit but *hyperfixation on whatever I'm thinking about at the moment*

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

CHOOSE

Alexander “Tig” Trager x Reader

Word Count: 2k

Thanks to my lovely beta reader @chibsytelford 💘

Author comments: First part of Choose. I hope you all enjoy. Gif isn't mine, credits to the author.

Tag list: @starrynite7114 ​ @chibsytelford ​ @dazzledamazon ​ @mara-mpou ​ @sammskellington ​ @gemini0410 ​ @1-800-imagines ​ @briana-mishell24 ​@sassymox @whyisgmora @aquamento @sadeyesgf @viviansafizada @samcrobae @jade770 @witchy-wish @rebel-without-cause-x ✨ (if you wanna be tagged, send me a message!)

“So, what about (Y/N) and you?” Bobby asks sipping from his beer.

“What about what?”

“Ar'ya alrede' ‘official’”? Chibs adds while Jax, Juice and Happy leans above the table with a naughty smile drawn on their lips, palming the picnic table and making some noise.

“She's just a groupie, man”.

You can't hear Tig chuckling, because of the sound your heart does by breaking itself is louder.

“A groupie?” Jax's voice sounds confused, raising a blonde eyebrow as the palms stops.

“Yeah, you know. She's not one of those bitches that come here to eat us. But she's not my girl either. We just have fun”.

“You just have fun?” Juice asks incredulous, shaking his head just for a moment.

“Yeah, man! I must say I have eaten a lot of pussies, but, shit! Hers is a fucking delight. And she doesn' have any contagious disease, that's an important plus too”.

“If she was my mom, I would pull out your eyes”. The scratchy voice of Happy appears from nowhere, somewhat disappointed. “And I would eat them”.

“What the fuck?”

“Brother, that girl really lose her shit for you”. Bobby says, because it's something pretty obvious. “And you can say whatever you wan', but you're strained to the bone for that sassy girl”.

Tig's laughs flood the main yard, before drinking his beer.

“Man, you call her when we're ridin'. And her house it's the first stop when you come back”. Juice assures placing his forearms over the table.

“Yea', and you also have clothes in her house, and she in yours”. Jax hit the wood with his knuckles, watching the look on his face trying to hide how right they are.

“Oh! And remember that time (Y/N) told us that Tig brought breakfast at bed”. Ratboy palms Happy chest breaking into laughter, joying the talk, sitting by his side.

“We didn't even know you cook, brother”.

“C'mon, shut up!”

“And tha time ya brought ha' flowers”. Chibs points at Tig with pursed lips joking on him.

“Yeah, that was pretty romantic”. Jax continues with the jokes, making him feel angrier.

“I said she's just a fuckin' groupie. We fuck when I want. That's all”. Trager finishes the conversation, upset of their brothers teasing him about you.

Sitting on the sofa under the closest open window to them, you rest an empty beer on your lap. With your eyes on it and an incessant pain growing in your chest, lash after lash, you don't even know who the fuck are you. Then, the last year has been a lie. All those times he said he loved you, they were a lie. All those times he said he missed you, they were a lie. All those times he said you he didn't want a life without you, they were a lie. Like many others. Yes, he never asked you to be his girlfriend, but you didn't know he had to do it to make it ‘official’. You thought it was implicit in the fact that you really look like a couple. Not like Tara and Jax, but somewhat like. And it's confusing look back and seeing all the shit he did for you and all the shit you did for him, only to hear that your a clean pussy to put his cock in whenever he needs it. No feelings. No compromise. No nothing. Just sex.

You take off the black high-heels, holding them by the strips, leaving away the beer. Getting up and putting on well the dress you bought for him, feeling stupid on one of these garments, you walk barefoot towards the exit door at the end of the hallway' dorms. Your car is parked there. Safe from the Sons' of other subsidiaries and their non expected fights just for fun. The only thing you want to do is drive your way back home and hide in your bed of the shame you're feeling, after listening him talking like that about you with his friends.

“Brother, listen”. Jax sits on the nearest stool at the bar. “I lost Tara for fourteen years, don' commit my mistake”.

Tig has another shot, ripping his throat as he cleans his mouth with the back of the left hand.

“I was fuckin' scared of seeing that I was in love with her. We do all this shit that has our families in a continuous danger, but I don' regret about what I feel for my wife”. He defends the point of view he's trying to make him understand. “She's a good girl and you look focused since you met. Think about it”.

The other man doesn't say anything with the blue eyes placed on some bottles in front of him.

“You ok?” Tara's voice pushes you to reality.

You shake your head somewhat confused, raising your gaze towards her.

“I've been standing there for the last five minutes, without you noticing it”. She chuckles, closing the door behind her back to have a sit at the desk, having a quick look of the medical records on it. “Too much work?”

“I wish… It's been a quiet day and I need to distract myself”.

“It's everything okay? Didn' Tig like the dress?”

By the look on your face, putting away your eyes, Tara knows something isn't going well. You leave a heavy sigh, closing your eyes just to contain a wild tear.

“I'm just a… pussy for him”.

“What the hell…? Don't tell that, (Y/N). Maybe he's not the most romantic man on earth, but he loves you”.

“Yes, that what I thought”. Laughing somewhat bittersweet, you put your arms above the table. “Last night I heard him talking with the guys. Telling them I'm just a groupie to fuck when he needs it”.

The woman snorts resting her back on the chair, rubbing her eyes with both hands.

“The only difference between those... bitches he used to fuck and me, it's that I don't have HIV”.

“Maybe he was dru—”.

“I never heard Jax talk about you, as Tig talked about me, when he's drunk”. You reiterate shrugging your shoulders. “He just… told me all that bullshit about love and a family and a future to suck his cock. And I was so fuckin' stupid that I believed him…”

“I'm sorry, sweetheart”.

“Yeah, I'm too”. You answer getting up and taking off the medical gown to hang it on the coat rack. “I'm done with my meetings. Could you tell Marcia I wasn't feeling okay and I went home?”

“Yes, sure. Don't worry about it”.

All his stuff is already on a plastic bag. His clothes, his motorbike' things for when he travels… Everything. It was painful collect them all, with his smell flooding your room while you were keeping them. Placing it over the table in the kitchen, you sit there just waiting for him to come. You didn't call him, but even if he lied to you, you know something about him. So, when he didn't find you last night, he probably went first to the hospital by morning. And proving that you're right, the roar of his engine comes closer as he reaches your house. Crossing the back door in front of you, he takes off the helmet putting inside it the leather gloves and the sunglasses.

“Your boss told me you weren' feeling ok, what's up?” He asks truly worried, or at least seems like. Leaning forward he tries to kiss you, but you pull away your face without any words.

Now he's confused as fuck, getting up finding the bag on the table. Opening it with his forefinger to have a quick look twisting the neck just for a second, the blue eyes go straight you.

“What's that?”

“Your things. I want you to leave”.

“The fuck is wrong with you?” He demands making some gesture with both hands, as you get up of the chair.

“I'm not the one who lied every time I said ‘I love you’!” You push him away when he tries to take a step next to you, with all the pain concentrated on it.

“The fuck does it means? I didn' fuckin' lie to you”.

“Yeah, that's what you tell me in the meantime you tell your friends I'm just a clean pussy!”

“Who told you about that…?” He snorts cross-armed, supporting his waist against the counter.

“Nobody! I fuckin' hear you, Trager!” You scream totally mad, throwing him the plastic bag. “I just… fuckin' thought that someday you really would want to have a family... Shit, I'm so fucking stupid I feel so sorry for myself…”

“Sunshine, list—”.

“Go fuck yourself!” You push him away again, as he tries to grab your wrists, stirring under his grip. “You're a fucking dickhead!”

“Calm fuckin' down and listen!” He shouts at you for first time since you know him. Your heart stop, as your body does. Not because you're afraid, but because it's enough for you.

“I don' wanna see you anymore… Leave me alone”. You almost beg to him, shutting up some sobs stuck in your throat and your gaze away from the man.

He just nods in silence knowing that you are not going to come to your senses right now. So he grabs his things with anger, before throwing your house's keys on the table. Only when he disappear from the kitchen is when you break in tears. You had too much contained in your heart and you can't help but cry louder than never. Sometimes you have had fantasies about living together, having some free days and getting lost on the road, with nobody close to bother you. Sometimes you also have had fantasize of a kid running through your house calling him “daddy”. But it was just that. A year full of lies and a bunch of fantasies.

“What's that?” Bobby asks behinds the bar lifting up an eyebrow.

Tig throws the bag to the nearest wall, furious with himself and the way he has fucked up. His heart is beating fast, having a sit on a stool and grabbing a bottle of whisky to drink from it. There's no music in the clubhouse, just silence, so his guilty becomes louder of what he said. All those words dancing around him once and again.

“Clothes?” Juice asks taking the bag to open it confused.

“(Y/N) heard me last night”. He answers with his eyes getting reddened, trying to hold in the tears.

“I would have rip off your chest with a knife wetted on vinegar and salt”. Happy says without losing sight of the tip of the pool stick. After hit the white one, he raises his eyes towards him. “Later I would have pissed on you. Be thankful she kept your things in a bag”.

Jax looks at the ex-nomad not knowing why he's surprised about his threats. Walking close to Tig, with both hands inside the pockets, he supports a forearm against the bar.

“Now, what?” The president asks, lifting his chin in a simple gesture.

“Now nothing. I already lost her for being a fuckin' asshole. That's all”.

“Yeah, brotha, ya said fuckin' mean thengs bout ha'”. Chibs palms his back a little bit harder, making him spit the whisky in his mouth.

“Even if we were jokin'... Fuck man…” Jax shakes his head sighing, having a quick look of the Sons' faces. “Wan'me to talk with her?”

“No. I will… try to fix it”. He coughs by clearing his throat after the hit, having another sip.

“One year enduring your bullshit…” Bobby clicks his tongue, leaning above the bar. “I thinks it's fuckin' obvious what you should do, Tiggy”.

“Yes”. Juice, Chibs and Jax said in unison.

“That's the only way to fix it. And if you don' think so, then leave her alone”. In moments like that, Tig sees how much Jax looks like his father, with all those advices and wise words. “She's not a warm pussy, she's a woman who didn' care you're mentally fucked and who didn' care about what you do with the club”.

“I know…”

“Then, choose”. Palming the wooden bar, Jax finishes the conversation as if it was a table-business to Samcro.

#sons of anarchy x reader #sons of anarchy imagine #sons of anarchy #tig trager x reader #tig trager imagine #alexander tig trager #tig trager