~𝙼𝙾𝙳𝙴𝚁𝙽 𝙳𝙰𝚈 𝙱𝙾𝙽𝙽𝙸𝙴 𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝙲𝙻𝚈𝙳𝙴~

*ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕆𝕟𝕖*

Bellatrix lounged casually on the picnic table, her feet draped over the edge, the low hum of the clubhouse's usual chaos in the background. The faint smell of gasoline mixed with the lingering scent of her cigarette, the smoke swirling around her in lazy tendrils as she observed Jax and Chibs struggling to attach a hose to the stubborn radiator of the old Ford Explorer. Her face was a study in boredom, her sharp eyes tracking their every move. With a flick of her wrist, she extinguished her cigarette, the embers fading to nothing.

She stood up, the rhythmic click of her platform Louboutins striking the ground as she made her way toward the car. Each step was deliberate, the soft leather of her pants whispering against her skin. She didn't even glance at Jax as she approached, simply hip-checking him aside with a flick of her arm. "Move, you imbecile," she muttered with a mix of irritation and amusement, her gaze narrowing as she surveyed the engine bay. Without missing a beat, she reached in and deftly connected the hose to the engine, the motion seamless as if she had done this a thousand times before.

Jax rolled his eyes, exasperated, his voice tinged with mockery. "I'm not an imbecile, baby sister," he shot back, crossing his arms over his chest. "But one might question your judgment, considering your taste in men. I mean, Tig, really?" His words dripped with playful sarcasm, but there was a note of genuine concern buried beneath.

Bellatrix's lips curled into a tight line, her acrylics digging into her palms as she prepared to fire back. But before she could, a familiar presence appeared behind her, and everything about her posture softened instantly. Tig's large hand settled gently on her throat, pulling her into a firm embrace. He kissed her cheek, his breath warm against her skin. "Hey, Punkin'," he murmured, his voice soothing and affectionate, cutting through the tension between her and Jax like a blade.

Bellatrix relaxed, her body shifting in Tig's arms as she pivoted to face him. Without hesitation, she closed the space between them, meeting his lips with a deep, slow kiss. "Hey, Big Daddy," she replied, her voice soft and teasing as their lips parted. "I didn't expect you back so soon. I figured Pops would have kept you out longer."

Tig smiled, a warmth spreading across his face as he reached up to gently tug at a lock of her cherry cola-colored hair. "He wanted me to stay," he confessed, his voice full of affection. "But I told him I had to get back to your pretty lil' ass."

Bellatrix couldn't help but grin, her heart fluttering slightly in her chest at his words. She wasn't used to hearing him speak so tenderly, so openly. And it was a side of him that she had grown to cherish more and more.

—

Hours later, the clubhouse felt warm, familiar—like home. Bellatrix and Tig had claimed the plush sectional sofa, nestled together in a quiet corner of the common room. The game on the massive 85-inch screen blared in the background, the shouts and cheers of the players echoing through the room as Clay, Jax, and Opie settled in to watch. The men were engrossed in the action, but Bellatrix and Tig were in their own world, a cocoon of quiet intimacy that no one dared to disrupt.

The sound of the game paused, transitioning into a commercial break, and Opie seized the opportunity to slip out from his spot on the sectional. "Could you two freaks not get all lovey and gross in the fuckin' common room?" he quipped as he made his way toward the bar. His words were teasing, but there was a genuine amusement in his voice as he glanced back at the couple.

Tig didn't even look up, his hand still gently stroking Bellatrix's hair. "Excuse me if my Ol'Lady laying on my lap offends you, shithead," he retorted without hesitation, unapologetic in his tone. His fingers danced along her scalp, soothing the soft curls of her hair, the gesture a quiet declaration of his affection.

Opie rolled his eyes, shaking his head as he grabbed a bottle of whiskey from the bar and made his way back to the couch. "It's not a matter of offense, Tigger," he said, voice filled with mock frustration as he sank back into the couch. "It's just... unsettling. I'm not used to seeing you be all sweet and shit. It's like you're a completely different person."

Trixie glanced up at Tig, her expression half-lidded, her eyes heavy with a mixture of lust and drowsiness. She let out a playful sigh, pulling herself up to sit. "Take me to bed and fuck me to sleep, Tigger," she purred, her voice dripping with sass and sarcasm as she traced a finger down his chest. "Your lil' princess needs a good railing."

Tig's lips curled into a smirk, his fingers still threading through her hair, but his gaze turned serious, as if the playful teasing had sparked something deeper in him. "You always know how to make me want you," he muttered, his voice rough as he shifted his body, ready to lift her into his arms. The heat between them was undeniable, a chemistry that always seemed to spark when they were alone, no matter who was around.

Bellatrix leaned into him, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered, "Later, Big Daddy. For now, just... hold me."

Tig's arms tightened around her, his smile softening into something genuine. "Anything for you, Punkin'," he whispered back, content to simply be in her presence as the noise of the game continued to fade into the background.

Tig kept his arms wrapped around Bellatrix as she settled back into him, the softness of her body pressing against his chest. He breathed in deeply, the faint scent of her perfume mixing with the lingering musk of their shared space. His fingers continued to move lazily through her hair, the soft strands slipping through his fingers like silk. It was moments like this—moments when it was just the two of them—that he lived for. In a world that was constantly shifting, where the noise of the club and the chaos of their lives never really seemed to stop, there was something incredibly grounding about being in her arms.

The sounds of Opie and the guys joking around in the background grew muffled, their laughter and commentary more distant as Bellatrix and Tig became an island in the sea of clubhouse noise. Bellatrix's breath began to even out as she relaxed against him, her eyelids growing heavy as sleep pulled at her.

"I meant it, you know," she whispered, her voice barely audible, the weight of the words making Tig's heart skip a beat. He leaned down, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered back, "I know, baby. I meant it, too."

Bellatrix smirked, a lazy grin tugging at her lips despite the exhaustion tugging at her. "Good," she murmured, her eyelids fluttering closed. "I was starting to think you were just full of sweet talk."

Tig chuckled softly, his hand tracing the curve of her arm as she drifted off. He could feel her body relax, her muscles loosening against him. He looked around the room, catching Opie's teasing glance and Clay's indifferent nod, both men well aware of the deep connection Tig and Bellatrix shared. Their dynamic was no longer a secret, and while it wasn't something that needed to be broadcasted, it was something the club had come to accept.

Opie caught his eye as he shifted on the couch, a beer in hand. "Hey, Tig, when you're done cuddling your princess, you mind helping me out with a project?" he teased.

Tig shot him a look, one that could've melted steel, before his eyes softened as he focused back on Bellatrix. "I'll get to it," he muttered, his tone gruff, yet the tenderness in his gaze spoke volumes. He didn't need anyone else's approval. Not when Bellatrix was with him. Not when the world outside of this quiet bubble could still tear them apart at any moment.

Hours passed, the tension of the day slowly melting away in the warmth of their shared space. Bellatrix stirred once, her voice a sleepy murmur as she asked, "Tig?"

"Yeah, baby?" he replied, his voice low and steady, never far from her ear.

"Thanks for being here," she whispered, her eyes still closed but her words wrapping around him like a protective layer.

"Always, Punkin'. I'm not going anywhere," he assured her, his hand lightly squeezing hers, the unspoken promise settling between them like an unbreakable bond.

They remained like that, time slowing down as the world outside seemed to lose its urgency. For now, it was just Tig and Bellatrix, the warmth of their connection filling the space between them, shutting out the chaos of the clubhouse and the looming responsibilities that would soon demand their attention.