#chibs telford fic

[the-hinky-panda]

 A figment of my worst intentions

Gemma is irate. 

She keeps her cool, a fantastic feat, while you’re on the phone with her. She likes you. You’re direct, not easily ruffled or thrown off balance. You’re a fantastic businesswoman: sharp, highly intelligent, and even-keeled. But most importantly, you make Chibs happy, genuinely happy. So when you call out of the blue, asking questions about Althea Jarry, Gemma can pick up the nervous timber to your voice when you ask your questions. 

What do you know about Sheriff Jarry? What was her relationship with Filip? What happens on MC runs? And the question that cut straight to her heart: do I have anything to worry about? That question raised her hackles. 

“Look, if Chibs told you he isn’t-” 

“No,” you immediately cut her off. “Not Chibs. Jarry. Do I have anything to worry about with her. You know, sugar in my gas tank, sniper on the rooftops in downtown Charming?” 

Gemma releases the breath she had been holding. Of course you weren’t concerned with Chibs. You didn’t suffer fools at all just from the handful of times she had met you. If you had concerns about Chibs, you wouldn’t have even picked up the phone to call her. But she also doesn’t want to alarm you. When Althea Jarry was concerned, yes, there was something to worry about. The fact that she was talking to you, threatening you in a subtle, underhanded way, was enough to worry about. She’s a crooked cop and there’s nothing that would prevent her from making your life miserable if she chose to do so. 

“No, sweetheart,” Gemma says, “you don’t have anything to worry about.” 

It’s Jarry that has to worry. Gemma hangs up the phone and immediately picks up her purse and keys. She has to admit, she was concerned when Jax stepped down and Chibs took up the gavel. Her concern grew the first time she saw you walk through the door of the clubhouse to drop off something to Chibs. Strength recognizes strength and if ever came to a power struggle between the two of you, Gemma was nervous you might get the upper hand. There was something about you, a wily edge of someone who had the uncanny luck of escaping bad situations. 

“So you’re Chibs’ Old Lady.” 

“Yeah, I guess I am.” You scrunch up your nose. “God, that’s an awful term.” 

Gemma crosses her arms. “Yeah, apparently they didn’t consult with any women when they came up with them.” 

Your eyes wander around the clubhouse. “It doesn’t look like women were consulted with anything in here either.” 

“Does that mean you won’t be around much or you planning on redecorating?” 

Your eyes narrowed for the briefest of moments as you process the undertone and hidden meaning behind the question. Are you going to make moves to take over as the matriarch or is Gemma’s position safe in the club? You answer by holding up a set of keys. 

“I was just dropping off my apartment keys to Filip. I’m heading out for the Labor Day Classic and just in case I get hurt, I want him to be able to get into the apartment.”  You look around the bar area. “If you do redecorate though, I would suggest something easily washable.” 

Gemma smiled. The hidden meaning of your answer ringing through loud and clear. You had no plans of inserting yourself into club business. You weren’t threatened or distrustful of what happened here. “Yeah, and fire retardant too.” 

The two of you had started to become friendly towards each other. You were slowly becoming one of the few female friends that Gemma had and she isn’t about to let Jarry mess with this set-up. Gemma liked you. Chibs was completely in love with you and happier than she had seen him in a long time. Things are going well. 

“Where you headed to, Mami?” Nero asks her as she climbs into the SVU. 

“I have to go set a crooked cop straight.” She gives him a wry smile and kisses him on the cheek. “Get the bail money ready just in case.” 

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Ride Him like you Stole Him - A Chibs Telford/Reader Smut Drabble.

Do I have any Chibs fans here? @withmyteeth​ you likely know a few of them, if you wouldn’t mind pointing them in the direction of this, please? :) Anyway, here we are. Bit o’ Chibs filth. Have at it. 

Words - 491

Warnings - Smut below the cut! Minors DNI!

Some would claim that the most exquisite parts of Scotland are the endless rolling hills, the beautiful stretches of water, the serene heather fields or the snow-capped mountains of the north. Not to you.  

To you, it’s Chibs Telford’s cock. Long, thick, and with a curve that hits every single sweet spot within you, especially when you hold him down and ride it. He doesn’t let you often, that dominance in him rarely softened to the point he’ll let you take control, but today, he had a simple request after club business had pissed him off to the point of grinding his teeth when he walked back into your home.  

“Take me tae bed and fuck all the stress out of me, lass.” You understood the assignment.  You ride him hard into the mattress, hands clutching his chest, his own gripping your bum, moving away to spank you occasionally. 

“Is that better?” you pant, his beautiful, fat cock evoking tingles all through your soaking centre, your inner muscles fluttering around him. He sits up beneath you, pulling your legs around him, pushing you back, his mouth laying hot kisses over your tits, teeth sharp at your nipples.  

“Aye. It’s even better now I get to suck on these beautiful tits, hen.” The sharp edge of pleasure soars through you as he continues to lay bites and licks over each stiffened bud, groaning wantonly, his hands gliding up your clammy back, holding you against him tighter as his mouth meets the juncture of you neck. 

One hand then reaches between you, his thumb stretching to stroke over the slick of your clit, pleasure tumbling though you like a falling star streaking over your nerve endings, your forehead softly thudding to his as you lose yourself to the rolling pleasure, stroking his face as you kiss him, little sobs of ecstasy spilling from your mouth into his.  

The way the thick of his cock has you spread knocks the breath from you, your core tingling, aching from the sweet flush of arousal, his hand moving to grasp your neck lightly, staring at you as you ride him harder, his groans like steel chains being dragged over boulders. 

“That’s it, beautiful. You ride me hard until you cum.” Your veins are warmed by the lightning flickering at the base of your spine, your slick walls spasming around him, each movement beneath you having sparks skitter through your sensitive cunt, his moans so deep and beautiful, thumb working at your bundle faster.  

“Fuck, oh my god, oh!” Your wail has you there, tumbling into bliss as he lets go of the release he’s been holding onto by the skin of his teeth, your culminations charging through your bodies, you and your lover meeting in the centre of nirvana, everything else tumbling away. 

“How’s your stress?” you question, when you can finally breathe. 

He hums with a chuckle, nuzzling your neck before kissing you. “What stress?” 

[triviadimplesblog]

🇹​​🇭​​🇪​ ​🇨​​🇷​​🇮​​🇲​​🇸​​🇴​​🇳​ ​🇭​​🇴​​🇷​​🇮​​🇿​​🇴​​🇳​

Chibs Telford x OC Brianne O'Connor

Brianne O'Connor's life takes a thrilling turn when she becomes entwined with the infamous Charming's Sons of Anarchy motorcycle club. Amidst the brotherhood, she finds an unexpected connection with the charismatic Scottish member, Chibs. As their bond deepens, Brianne starts to believe in a chance at happiness, until her haunting past resurfaces, threatening to shatter her newfound peace. But it is revealed that the Sons' loyalty and protectiveness run deep, and they're ready to stand against any danger to safeguard what they hold dear.

The Crimson Horizon masterlist:

Prologue/Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Fanfic edits:

Fanfic edit #1

Fanfic edit #2

Chibs edit - not mine! credits to the owner!

Note #1 Brianne's faceclaim is changed to Rachelle Lefevre

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Chibs with a reader around the same age as Juice and they do it on Chibs’s bike at the club house thinking nobody is there but they get caught by a few of the members

Teach Me How to Ride.

Synopsis - Chibs is teaching you how to ride (in more ways than one).

Pairing - Filip 'Chibs' Telford x Female Reader

Warnings - smut. cursing. age gap.

Age Rating - 18+

Word Count - 1k

Author's Note - thank you SO much for this request, anon. it made me feral. that old man owns me and i'm not sorry about it. always open to SOA and chibs requests. <3

Masterlist. Inbox.

"Any weekend plans, darlin'?"

You smile at the blonde man sat on the other side of the bar you're wiping down.

"Nothing too exciting. I think I'm gonna try and get out on my bike."

His brows raise in curiosity.

"You have a bike now?"

"Yeah. Chibs is teaching me how to ride."

"I bet he is."

You roll your eyes at the snickers that come from the other guys who are dotted around the room.

"Real mature, Jax."

"Is he charging you for these lessons, or are you paying him in other ways?"

You put down your cloth and look up.

"I'll jump over this bar and beat your ass right now, Tig. Don't think I won't."

They all laugh, and you can't help but chuckle along with them. You know they mean well. They'd do anything for you, in a heartbeat.

Eventually, the sun sets, and all of the guys make their way home. You've been restocking the bar, not minding staying a little later if it means you get the job done.

You're crouched down filling the fridge when you hear a familiar Scottish accent echo though the clubhouse.

"You still here, sweetheart?"

You stand up and smile at him, grinning wider when he reciprocates.

"Still here. Trying to get my shit done."

"That's my girl. Always working ten times harder than the rest of us."

You laugh, throwing him a beer.

"You're here late. How did the run go?"

"All good, nothing to worry about," he winks.

You think back to Jax's comment earlier, and decide you've had enough of avoiding the truth. You want answers. You also just kind of want to know what he'll say.

"Why does everyone think we're fucking?"

Chibs practically chokes on his drink, taken aback by your sudden brashness.

"What?"

"You heard me."

He takes a moment to process, before a slow smile etches itself onto his face.

"Why do you ask that?"

"Just something Jax said earlier."

"Ignore that bastard. He doesn't think before he speaks."

You chuckle in agreement, finishing up your jobs for the day.

"You wan' a ride home?"

You nod gratefully, making sure to lock up before walking over to where Chibs is leaning against his bike. He's parked by the door, under the shelter, obscured from the yard. He slips a helmet onto your head, before standing in front of you to do up the buckle. His rough fingertips slide under your chin, clasping the straps in place. He swipes a thumb over your bottom lip gently, eyes never leaving your face.

"You're too good for me," he murmurs. "Pretty young thing like you."

"Everyone already thinks we're fucking anyway," you whisper, smirk on your face.

He chuckles lowly, before leaning in to capture your lips with his. He kisses you with need, unbuckling the helmet he just put on you and dropping it to the ground. He's grabbing at you - your hips, your ass, anywhere he can find. You've got your hands tangled in his hair, yanking roughly when he bites your lip.

The two of you waste no time. Chibs is shrugging his jacket off while unbuttoning your pants, pulling them down. You're fumbling with his belt, undoing his jeans with shaky hands. You're both high on adrenaline, desperate to feel the other person. He smashes his lips back to yours and you groan, reveling in the way he tastes like smoke and peppermint.

Chibs grabs your hips and walks you backwards, twirling you around so you're bent over his bike. You can't help but laugh, remembering what Jax had said.

"What?" he chuckles into your ear, hot and heavy against your back.

"Nothing," you giggle. "I'll tell you later. You gonna fuck me, old man, or just stand there?"

He growls under his breath and smacks your ass as punishment, smirking when you whine.

"You gonna ask me nicely, sweetheart?"

At this point, you're not above begging. Besides, you know it'll do wonders for his ego, and you don't entirely mind that.

"Please, Chibs," you whinge. "Waited so long for this."

"Oh, ya have?" he coos. "Better not keep you waitin' then."

In one smooth thrust he slides home, both of you groaning in unison. He plants a hand on the back of your neck, the other with a firm grip on your hip, providing him with leverage. He sets a steady, even pace, careful not to knock the bike over.

He tilts his hips upwards a little and you keen, seeing stars.

"Right there? Yeah? That's it, isn't it?"

You only nod in response, holding onto the motorcycle for dear life. You trust him, though. You know he won't let you fall.

"Fuck, darlin'. You feel so good."

"So close," you choke out.

"I know, I know. Can feel you squeezin' me. Come on, that's it. Good girl."

The lilt of his accent combined with the glide of his hips is lethal, sending you over the edge in no time. You see stars, heart racing and mind blank.

Your undoing is also Chibs'. He groans as he finds his release, leaning over to rest his head between your shoulders. You're both panting, chests heaving as you recover.

After a moment, the bike groans, and you both jump up, laughing as you do it. You're redressing, Chibs stealing kisses from you, when you hear a voice cut through the darkness.

"Well, shit. I was only kidding earlier."

You can hear Jax's teasing drawl before he comes into view, cocky smirk drawn across his face.

You groan as Chibs rolls his eyes and throws his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into him. Both of you know you're not going to hear the end of this for a long time.

[thisreadswhatever]

Only Mine

find my masterlist here

[description]: jax teller x fem!reader

[wordcount]: 2.4k

[cw]: 18+ only, smut, jealous overprotective Jax, angst, short fight scene (if you can even call it that), car sex, oral f receiving, teasing, unfinished sex

[authors note]: I had this idea floating around for awhile and then this request inspired the rest! thank you!

“I’m sure you say that to all the ladies.” 

You were along the bar, chin in palm, blinking your lashes at the man sitting beside you. He smiled back wryly. He was pretty perfect. Clean cut, slightly muscular, no tats covering him from top to bottom, no bike sitting in the parking lot. He was a little cocky, aware of his good looks, and in all honesty, any other day he’d be the type of guy you’d usually find pretty boring. But for tonight, he’d be a welcome distraction. 

“So you’re really here alone?” the man asked, looking around as he took a sip from the glass in front of him. 

You smiled back, twisting a strand of hair into your fingers as you sipped your beer, “that surprise you?” 

“Someone like you doesn’t come around here often. Can't imagine you haven’t been snatched up yet.” 

Technically, he was right. Jax and you hadn’t spoken in days, and although the mutual silence was a regular occurrence, you somehow always found a way back to each other. It never had been made ‘official’, but it never really needed to be. You both stuck to each other like the end poles of magnets, impossible to keep apart yet impossible to stay together. You and Jax were a burning flame amongst a sea of trees condemned to an endless drought. Your love was toxic and infuriating, and it pained you both how hurtful you could be to one another. Yet for some reason, you always went back. You’d reconnect, one of you would fuck up, and then it was back to square one all over again. 

“Haven’t found the one yet”, you teased. 

He gestured to the bartender with his hand, “can I buy you another beer?” 

You smiled politely back at him, “you can buy me as many as you want.”

You picked up your drink and pulled his hand with your other as you led him to one of the quiet booths settled at the back of the bar. You spent the next hour cosying up to your stranger, soaking in the attention he gave you. He was overly attentive and extremely polite, almost a little too nice for your liking. No roughness on the edges, no fight in him. Just a gentleman through and through. You sat inches from each other, tension building as the drinks continued to appear. 

“Can I kiss you?” The man asked as he leaned in, hovering above your face. It wasn’t often you were asked to be kissed. You stared into his eyes through your long lashes, nodding in approval.

He smiled shyly into your lips as they pressed against his. He was gentle, his hands slowly moving to your waist, never straying further. 

He laid back into the bench, taking a sip from his beer. “You know I never did catch your name.” 

You didn’t want to share anything with this stranger, the anonymity bringing less questions and expectations. 

“Later.” 

You cupped his face in your hand, grazing his jaw with your fingertips as you brought his mouth to yours again.

He was nice, but the longer you spent kissing your gentle stranger, the more you yearned to be in the hands of your depraved biker. Jax was urgent and desperate for you each time you were in his arms. There was a mutual desire that turned you both into crazed maniacs when you were together. It was something you’d searched for every time you were with someone else, because nobody you’d ever come across had given you that same feeling. 

Jax had a way of turning you into the only girl in the world. Until he was fucking the next croweater who threw themselves at him the following day. 

Tonight, you were going to allow yourself to enjoy the gentlemen in front of you. You leaned back into the bench, trying to edge him on top of you as you sunk into the bench against his lips.

You were so entangled in your stranger that you never even noticed him arrive with half of The Club. It wasn’t until you were interrupted by the break in your lips as he was pulling the man off you by his shirt, forcing him to the floor as he was knocked flat on his back. 

“Jax!”

“Dude! What the fu-“ he tried to stand up, but Jax placed his shoe directly on his chest, crushing him to the ground. The man grunted under the weight, failing to pry the shoe off of him. “What the fuck are you doing!?”

“What do you think you’re doing?” He pressed down into the man’s chest harder, restraining himself from crushing his rib cage all together. 

The stranger looked at you with wide eyes, trying to speak through the force compounding his lungs, “she said she was alone!” 

Jax smiled at him as he laid spread out on the dirty bar floor. 

“I don’t give shit what she said. Your time is up, pretty boy.”  

You were ashamed to admit that you thoroughly enjoyed watching Jax furious with envy over you, but you did feel bad for the innocent guy beneath his sneaker. 

“Get the fuck off him, Jax.” 

He glanced up at you, taking a long look at your flushed pink cheeks and swollen lips.

The crowded bar was now zoned in on your table, watching and entertained by the drama unfolding. Chibs, Juice and Bobby guarded the table, ensuring no onlookers got in the way of Jax’s jealous fuelled rage. 

He picked the man up by his collar, pulling him to his feet as he threw him against the wall. Jax gripped at his jaw, lifting his chin to force his eyes towards you at the bench. “I suggest you apologise for bothering my girl.” 

“Jax don’t be ridiculous-“ 

He ignored you, glaring at the man in his grasp, tightening the grip on his collar. 

“I’m sorry, okay!” 

“Not to me, asshole. To her.” 

You rolled your eyes, watching as he tormented the innocent stranger you had set yourself upon.

“I’m sorry I bothered you.” His voice cracked from the hold Jax had on his collar, draining the circulation from his neck.

Jax shoved the man off the wall, releasing him as he was once again flown across the laminate. He stumbled to regain his balance before he started running, bolting for the exit. He disappeared at the speed of light, chuckles from Juice and Chibs echoing through the bar as he ran. 

You stood up from the bench, storming off in anger for the door. 

Jax followed you into the empty, dark car park outside the bar. His hands stuffed into his pockets as he watched you slump against the brick wall, sliding down to sit on the pavement. You put a cigarette to your mouth as you searched for a lighter in your bag. You hadn’t felt tipsy until the air hit you, realising your head was spinning.

He paced over to you, crouching forward with his lighter, igniting the cigarette between your lips. 

“You’re such a prick sometimes, you know that?” 

Jax slid down the wall beside you, his legs bent slightly at the knees as he sighed to himself, lighting his own cigarette. “Not gonna argue with that.” 

He exhaled a large cloud of smoke as he spoke, “but you were basically fucking that guy in an open bar, y/n.” 

“First of all, no I wasn’t.” 

He chuckled, amused by your irritation. 

“And second of all, what the fuck has that got to do with you? You’re the one who decided to get knee deep in Ima last week, again.” 

“I told you I was drunk.” 

“And now I’m drunk too”, you protested.

He shook his head as smoke escaped his lips, fingers twirling the silver lighter in his hands. “That isn’t going to happen again.”

Your head fell back as you groaned at his promise, leaning against the hard brick behind you. “Yeah, ‘cause I haven’t heard that one before.” 

He smiled, nudging your leg with his playfully. “You know I mean it. Doesn’t matter who I’m inside, there's only one face I see.” 

You turned your head towards him, leaning your face on his shoulder. “I’m tired of this, Jax. You and your mommy issues are giving me whiplash.” 

“Yeah, well your baggage ain’t so easy to handle either.” He placed a hand over the back of your head, stroking your hair as he spoke.

You responded with a punch to his knee, swaying his leg. “You can’t just keep beating men up because they’re interested in me. That guy was actually sweet.” 

He threw his cigarette across the pavement before he grasped his hands into your hair, entangling his fingers between the strands. He crushed his lips against yours, his tongue lapping into your mouth. His fingers smoothed against your face, the feeling of his cold rings brushing against your cheek. Your foreheads connected as your eyes closed, resting silently along each other. “I can be sweet too.” 

You chuckled, playfully biting his lip. “You’re a sweet, jealous prick, Teller.”

He pulled into you once more, pecking your lips slowly before escalating into your lips, pulling you on top of him. You straddled him there in the lot, surrounded by empty parked cars in the dead of night. His hands gripped at your waist, pulling your body tighter to him, the feeling of his erection pressing into your jeans. Your hands twisted into his hair, holding his head against yours. He smirked against your lips, trailing his hands lower to your ass, as he secured his hands in your back pockets. He stroked your cheek with his nose, kissing the pink tinted skin.

“I just don’t like sharing what’s mine.” 

Your mouth found his as you raised your eyebrows, mumbling into his lips, “then take what's yours.”

He grinned, lifting you in one swift motion from his lap, standing you up against him. He pulled you across the parking lot as you stumbled drunk, trying to keep up. He led you to your car, opened the back door and pushed you flat against the back seat. 

Jax laid above you, planting himself between your legs. He angled himself between the seats, crushing his mouth against yours. His touch was ravenous, ripping the buttons from your jeans waistband as he pulled the denim from your ass. You giggled as he struggled to get them off entirely between the leather of the flat seat. You lifted yourself up, helping as he removed them. He pulled at your shirt, lifting it higher to expose the skin around your stomach as he leaned into you, gnawing at the skin in short pecks from your navel to your now exposed panties. You grasped at his hair as he claimed you with his warm mouth, suffocating himself into the fabric that covered your mound. 

“Jesus Christ, you’re fucking soaked for me.” He groaned at the taste of your slick pooling into the cotton, pulling your panties to the side. He circled his tongue against your clit, watching you, utterly mesmerised as you whimpered at the sensation. He rolled his thumb against your dripping fold, “this pretty cunt is mine.” 

Vibrations filled your entire being as he nuzzled into your mound, lapping his tongue repeatedly against your slick, his hands lifting your ass to push deeper into you. You tugged at the roots of his blonde hair, drunken moans of his name filling the car park as you struggled to keep quiet. He pulled away, his face glistening from your juices as he smirked at you, caressing his fingers against your pussy. “You want your sweet guy to finish you off?”

Your head fell back at the taunt, “c’mon Jax, don’t- stop-”

He pulled your panties down your ass, exposing your cunt entirely. His tongue stroked you, prodding at your swollen nub, before hesitating again. “Tell me you’re mine.” 

“Fuck, Jax- I’m- yours. I’m only yours.” The words trailed slowly from your gritted teeth, your head swirling from the feeling and the beer. You chased for his mouth, drawing your hips up closer to his face.

“Look at me when you tell me.”

You used all your might to lift your head from the seat, finding his eyes staring into yours, fire blazing within them. You spoke between your sharpened breaths, trying to form a coherent sentence. “I said- I’m yours.”

“I can’t hear you, darlin’. You’re only what?” 

Your head collapsed into the leather seat, cries escaping your lips as you squirmed your hips higher to find his mouth again. “I’m yours- Jax- shit-”

“That’s my pretty girl.” 

He stoked his tongue against your clit, enjoying every moment as you pleaded through your moans for him to take you to your climax. He was revelling in your anguish as he teased at your cunt. He played with your folds again, his fingers caressing the soaking skin. 

“No other man comes near my pussy, isn’t that right?”

You groaned in response, his claim on you sending you further into spiral. “No- no one else.”

His lips reconnected to your cunt, whimpers of desperation pouring from your lips. His fingers finally found your entrance, rewarding you as he slid into your seam, pushing you towards your release. 

He muttered into your mound, “you only cum for me.”

Your body exploded at his instruction, collapsing onto his fingers as they curled against your sweet spot, his mouth soaking in your orgasm. He delighted at your unravelling, his hands travelling your body as he found your breasts, kneading into the soft skin.

“That’s it, pretty girl. Let go for me.” Your thighs shook around his face uncontrollably, squeezing his head into your cunt.

He released his hand from your mound, hovering over you as his lips laid flush against yours. He danced around your mouth, forcing you to taste your slick that covered his tongue. Jax straddled over your hips, holding himself up against the headrest of the seat as his throbbing cock found your entrance. He positioned himself, sliding between the folds, a squeal escaping your throat as he filled you entirely. 

Before he could fuck you senseless, a loud repeated bang was heard against the hood of the car, startling you both.

“Jackie boy! We gotta go!”

Jax collapsed against you, groaning in frustration. If you weren’t so drunk from Jax and the beer, you would’ve been furious. Instead you giggled, amused by the interruption, “Chib’s and his impeccable timing.” He sighed, his head resting against your chest. 

He pulled out from you, as you rushed to put your underwear back in its place. He smirked against your mouth as he kissed you one last time, parting your lips between his, "guess I’ll just have to finish claiming you later.”

read part two here

[marvelous-slut]

MASTERLIST - you can find all my works here on this page. I hope you enjoyed reading them just as much as I enjoyed writing them. I don’t own any of the characters in these works.

* IM TRYING TO GET MY LINKS IN ORDER SO BARE WITH ME PLS *

SONS OF ANARCHY

Chibs Telford

Happy Lowman

Tig Trager

Juice Ortiz

Nothing here yet - coming soon

Opie Winston

STRANGER THINGS

Dmitri Antonov

[ravennaortiz]

Ravennas Randoms Chibs #1

*Minors DNI 18+ -Smut Below*

“Mmmm … fuck yes” you moaned as your face was pushed further into the table as Chibs thrusted into you from behind. “Won’t last much longer” panted Chibs through gritted teeth as he dug his fingers even harder into your hips. Honestly you were impressed the man had been going this long bringing you orgasm after toe curling orgasm on the table the Sons used for club meetings. You grinned as you thought about how you had come in here to find comfort….. and comfort you found. “What the fuck” growled a voice from the doorway causing you to turn your head but neither you nor Chibs stopped.

You knew you had won when your eyes met his piercing blue ones. The look of shock quickly masked by anger as he watched. A sight it must have been for the Prince of Charming to see his Old Lady with her hair plastered to her face from sweat and her dress bunched up around her waist as his VP went to town on her. You swore you heard Chibs laugh before smacking your ass and giving one final thrust that had your eyes rolling in the back of your head as you both came.

After a moment Chibs slipped out of you and fixed your dress. “Maybe you’ll learn to treat women better Jackie Boy” he stated before carrying you out and towards his dorm room to clean up.

[wrestlersownmyheart]

"Her Outlaw Hero" (Sons Of Anarchy-Chibs Chapter fic) Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the Original Characters in this story. I am only using Kurt Sutter's characters from Sons of Anarchy. He created the characters and the show—I am in no way taking any credit for his creations. This story is for entertainment only. Content/Warnings: Violence against both men and women including rape. Summary:

Adelaide Watson is fleeing Tennessee—on the run from her violent past.

When she has a car accident on a lonely road in Charming, California, she has no choice but to walk to town for help. But help comes to her instead. In a very unexpected way.

Note: I must confess, this is all I have written so far, and I have no idea when I'll get more posted because I don't know where to take it. Hope you understand and enjoy regardless!

Chapter 6

Angela tried to calm her heart rate as she disconnected the phone call. "So the cops know Addy's missing now," she thought out loud. Please, Lord… Let them find her car in the river. Let them think she's dead. Please keep her safe from Liam, she prayed. She sat at her desk in her den, in the middle of grading a test paper for her ninth-grade English class, and rubbed her temples. "Please, forgive me of the lies I told, also. I know they were to protect Addy, but they were still lies nonetheless."

Taking a moment to think over everything she'd said to the detective, she could recall no detectable mistakes in her story. I hope she got far away from here and they never find her, she thought. She shuddered to think what would happen to her should Liam find her.

Oh, Lord, what will I do if Liam shows up here to question me, she wondered. I'll just have to be prepared to tell him what I told that detective and stick to it. And not back down.

Telling herself that matter was settled, Angela forced herself to dive back into her paper grading and pushed Liam Toller out of her mind.

She only had a few papers to finish when a loud crackle of thunder sounded outside and she nearly jumped out of her skin. The sound of hard falling rain came next and she couldn't help but think of Adelaide.

"She always loved the rain and thunderstorms," Angela whispered to herself. She was such a happy, fun-loving person. She took pleasure in the little things. Will she ever get to be that way again, Lord? Is she doomed to always look over her shoulder and be scared? Please, watch over her, Father. Where ever she is, keep her safe. Send someone into her life that will protect her and fight for her.

She sobbed softly as she thought of her friend. I miss her so much, she thought, sniffling. I know we did what was best for her, but it doesn't stop me from missing her.

Too depressed to continue with her paper grading, she stood from her desk and prepared to get ready for bed, making a mental note to get up a little early and finish the last few papers in the morning.

000000

Adelaide was aware of a shiver racking her body as she struggled to open her eyes. Her lips parted as she attempted to speak, but only a soft whimper emerged. Her eyes finally fluttered open and she gazed around the darkened room she was in.

A bed, she thought, as she noted the familiar feel of a mattress beneath her. She moved slowly to a sitting position, gasping softly as her ribs exploded in fiery agony. She nearly cried out from the pain as she made her way wobbly to her feet. It was then that she noticed she was only clad in her under garments. Alarmed, she quickly grabbed at and wrapped the sheet around her slender frame for some modesty. As she moved farther away from the bed, she felt a slight tugging sensation on her hand. Turning to see what was making her mobility difficult, she noticed the IV hooked up to her hand. She followed the tubing with her eyes trying to see where it ended, which led her to also notice the man sitting in a chair next to a makeshift IV stand. He appeared to be asleep, with his head propped in his hand. Peering slightly at him, Adelaide recognized him as the goateed Scotsman who'd…

Frightened me to death, she thought, apprehension filling her heart. She turned back to the IV bag and began inspecting the tubing, trying to figure out how to free herself from the constraint. She eyed the IV port and contemplated pulling the needle out. The mere thought brought on a wave of queasiness and made her lightheaded all over again. She didn't deal well with needles. Gingerly, she began to remove a strip of the tape that held the tubing in place.

In the next instant, a light came on in the room and a warm hand took hold of her arm, gently turning her around. She faced the man who was asleep only seconds before. She was taken aback by his striking features. He was even more handsome than she recalled earlier in the day, though older. He appeared to be in his late forties—maybe early fifties. His black eyes scanned over her face and lingered for an instant on her mouth before moving back upward to her own eyes. His dark but graying hair was lightly mussed, but he brushed it back as he moved closer to her.

In her fear, Adelaide stepped backward and her foot fell on her sheet. To her dismay, the makeshift garment slipped from her grasp and fell to the floor. She gasped softly and tried to back away even further but the man kept hold of her arm. Add in the fact that her back literally hit the wall—she was quite trapped. The man's dark gaze wandered over her now mostly exposed slender frame and panic seized her.

Not again, she thought. "No, please…" she cried, trying to tug her arm free. "Don't…"

To her surprise, he released her arm and reached up to her face. His hand caressed her cheek for a moment before moving to her neck and lingering at her pulse point.

"Your heart is racing," he murmured in his thick Scottish burr. "But your skin is cool enough." He let out a sigh laced with frustration when he noticed the look of fear on her pale face. "Don't be afraid, lass. You're safe. We brought you here for medical attention since you were adamant that you didn't go to a hospital." He then bent down to retrieve her sheet "I won't hurt you," he said softly. "I was only trying to keep you from ripping that IV out. You need it right now." He paused a moment, and spoke again. "I'm sorry for staring at ya. I can see you've been through a lot. But, I am a man, I'm afraid, and I can't help ogling the beauty of a woman more often than not," he chuckled. He tossed the sheet onto the bed and then lifted her suitcase onto the bed as well. Why don't you pick something out of here to wear? You'll feel less vulnerable that way. But, pick something as thin and light as you can. You need to stay cool for now." He moved toward the door as Adelaide dug through the suitcase. "I'll go get you something to drink. You need all the fluid you can get."

"W-wait," Adelaide finally spoke out softly before he could leave.

He turned back to face her, "Yeah?"

"Your name," she asked with timidity. "You saved my life and I don't even know your name."

His lips curved upward in a smile and a dimple appeared in each cheek above his scars, "It's Chibs. And you're Adelaide. We saw your ID."

With that, he left the room and Adelaide quickly grabbed a silky, teal-colored nightgown and tugged it over her head. Then she found a hairbrush and unplaited her hair. She began running the brush gently through her waist-length hair, getting rid of any tangles. Wincing in pain when she had to reach upward to her scalp, she opted to leave the thick tresses down for simplicity's sake. She turned to put the hairbrush back in her suitcase but moved too quickly, however, and struggled to fight off another wave of dizziness. She heard something being set down on the dresser then and in the next second, felt strong arms envelope her as she sank toward the floor.

"Whoa, I got ya," she heard Chibs utter softly. "You need to be in bed. You're too weak to be up and about."

"I'm beginning to see that," Adelaide replied, holding her swimming head as Chibs carried her to the bed and gently deposited her onto it. "What happened to me? I haven't felt this horrible before in my whole life."

"Sunstroke," Chibs answered. "You'd walked a long distance in the heat and it nearly killed ya, woman." His tone turned lightly scolding as he approached the dresser and retrieved the glass of drink, "Have you ever had a fever of 107 before?"

His question was rhetorical, she knew. He'd asked to make it clear she shouldn't do anything so stupid again. He handed her the glass of drink and sat down beside her on the bed, "It's just Gatorade," he assured her as she looked at the drink quizzically. "It'll help get your electrolytes back in balance. Just sip. Gulping will make you sick."

"Can't say as I have ever had a fever that high, no," Adelaide finally answered after a few sips of fluid. "Well, that explains why I was almost naked. Thank you—for saving me. And I'm sorry I made it so difficult." She heard Chibs chuckle lightly and dared to make eye contact with him.

"You're welcome," he replied softly. "And it wasn't actually what I'd call difficult. Don't flatter yourself," he joked with a twinkle in his eye.

Adelaide recalled a hand going over her mouth, then gasped at the next memory that surfaced. "Did I bite you—your hand," she asked, feeling immense guilt.

This time Chibs let loose with a full-fledged laugh, "No, that was my friend, Tig. It wasn't as bad as it looked. Don't worry."

She nodded, as she finished her drink and then settled against the pillows.

"You need to rest, till we make sure your temperature is permanently stable now," Chibs told her as he took her glass and set it on the night table, then covered her again with the light sheet.

"I'm freezing," Adelaide said. "Could I cover up a little more? Please?"

Chibs considered it, and gave a slight nod. "I guess so. Your skin feels very cool. But I need to keep an eye on your temperature," he added, covering her with a lightweight blanket.

"Thank you."

Adelaide almost sighed in ecstasy from the extra bit of warmth that enveloped her. "You seem to know your way around the medical field. Are you some sort of doctor or something?"

"No, lass. I was a medic for the British Army many years ago."

"Is your real name, Chibs? Or is that a nickname?"

"It's a nickname of sorts," he replied. "I received a Glasgow smile years ago—the scars on my face—and the Scottish slang for the weapon used to do it, is a chib."

"My God," Adelaide cried. "I'm sorry. I can't believe people can be so evil."

"I would think you had a pretty good idea of how evil a person can be," Chibs told her.

She stared at him a moment, not sure how to respond.

"I know you were attacked," Chibs confessed in a gentle tone. "I've seen the bruises and cuts on your body. I've heard you crying out in your sleep, begging 'Liam' to not hurt you. "

Adelaide's breath caught in her chest. How could I have been so careless, she thought. He could easily find out about Liam and lead him here—even unintentionally. I have to play dumb, for now.

"I…I-I," she stammered, "I don't know any Liam. I must've just been having a nightmare."

"Okay, obviously, we should have this conversation at another time," Chibs said, immediately detecting her lie. "I understand. You're scared and ya find it hard to trust someone ya just met. But I promise, Adelaide, whoever he is… He will not get anywhere near ya. But you're gonna have to help us. We need to know more about him in order to keep him away from ya."

A tear fell down Adelaide's cheek and her lip trembled. "I-I…can't. You don't understand. He…h-he…"

Chibs leaned toward her and placed a finger over her full lips, "Shhh. You don't have to do this right now," he whispered. "Just rest. We'll talk this out later, yeah?"

She nodded shakily, and he gave her a comforting smile. Reaching up a little further, he gently swiped at the tear on her cheek with the pad of his thumb. "You're gonna be okay. We won't let anyone hurt ya."

He turned to move away from her to return to his chair next to the bed, but Adelaide took his hand and gently tugged him back down to the bed's surface. "What is your real name," she asked. "Would you mind telling me?"

He gazed into her eyes a moment before reaching up and tucking a lock of her dark hair behind her ear, "It's Filip."

"Would you mind if I called you Filip," she asked softly. "I mean… I just… I think calling you by your nickname feels almost like I'm condoning what was done to you."

He smiled slightly and nodded, "You can call me whichever you want, lass. Either one is fine with me."

Adelaide returned his smile, "Thank you…Filip. For everything. I'd probably be dead if not for you." Reflexively, she reached up and wrapped her slender arms around his neck, bestowing him with a hug.

He was taken aback, yet Chibs couldn't help but take pleasure in the feel of the woman's arms around him. He returned her embrace and stroked his hand over her hair. "Get some sleep," he whispered near her ear. "I'll stay in one of the other dorms so I'll be nearby if you need anything."

He finally pulled away, and caught the dazed expression on Adelaide's face. He knew then something was going to happen between them. She was as affected by his presence as he was by hers. In truth, he wanted her. She was beautiful, seemed kind and warm-hearted. He'd never felt as affected by a woman as he did with Adelaide. Not even with Fiona, or Allie. He shook his head of the thoughts and stood from the bed. "Goodnight, lass."

"Goodnight, Filip."

If you want on my tag list, just ask! 🙂

Tagging:

@mrsfilipchibstelford @ravennaortiz

[drabbles-mc]

In Pieces

Chibs Telford x F!Reader

Whumptober 2022: No.19 Enough is Enough- Knees Buckling

Warnings: angst, language, alcohol

Word Count: 2.9k

A/N: Me? Taking all of my trauma, tying up in a bow, and shoving it into the arms of this gruff man? It’s more likely than you think.

SOA Taglist: @masterlistforimagines​ @espieviolet99​ @mijop​ @chibsytelford​ @thanossexual​ @anditsmywholeheart​ @i-just-read-stuff​ @bport76​ @withmyteeth​ @unicornucopia-fuckers​ @buckybarneshairpullingkink​ @shadow-of-wonder​ @punkgoddess-98​ @paintballkid711​ @black-repunzel99​ @lexondeck​ @jitterbugs927​ @fanfic-n-tabulous​ @mijagif​ @frattsparty​ @winchestershiresauce​ @bellisperennis0​​ @crowfootwrites​​ @redpoodlern​​ @beardburnsupersoldiers​​ @mveggieburger​​ @choochoo284​​ @littlekittymeow​​ @beardsanddetectives​​ @i-love-scott-mccall​​ @passionatewrites​​ @garbinge​ (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

When his phone started going off in the middle of the night, his first thought was to throw it against the fucking wall. If it was the club, he didn’t want to know what could possibly be going on at this hour that they would need to call him for. If it was anyone else, there was no way they had a good enough reason to be calling. He hadn’t even set up a voicemail box. Whoever it was, was just going to have to try again later.

Only the ringing didn’t stop. Whoever decided to reach out, was painfully persistent. With a groan and a slew of curses, he blindly reached over and grabbed the flip phone from his nightstand. Flipping it open, he drowsily pinned it to his ear.

“What?”

It was loud on the other end of the line. So loud that it made Chibs cringe even in his half-asleep state. It didn’t seem to bother the man who was speaking on the other end of the line, though, over the sound of music and chaos.

“Hey. You, uh, is this Chibs?”

“Depends who’s fuckin’ asking,” he grumbled.

That’s when he heard your voice faintly in the background. “Put me on! Let me talk to him!” Even though you weren’t the one holding the phone, even though he still wasn’t fully awake, he could still hear how drunk you were. “You want me outta here so bad, tough guy? Hand me the phone! He’s not gonna say yes to you. He never says no to me.”

Chibs heard the man sigh and he huffed out an exhausted chuckle. “Put ‘er on.”

“Chibby!” Even though it was impossible, he swore he could smell the liquor on your breath through the phone.

“You causin’ trouble, darlin’?” he forced himself into an upright position as he spoke, eyes still not fully open.

“Never!”

“Liar.”

You giggled. “Maybe.”

He rubbed the heel of his palm against his eyes. “Where’d ye get off to now? I’ll come pick you up.”

You rattled off the name of the bar, a bit of a slur to your words but Chibs still got the point. “You’re a saint, you know.”

“Maybe in my next life, love.” He shook his head. “Drink some water while you wait for me to get there.”

“I love you,” you practically sang into the phone.

He sighed as he got up off his mattress. “I know.”

Once he hung up the phone, he began the agonizing process of getting ready. It was bad enough to have to do it in the morning when he was supposed to be waking up. But being roused in the middle of the night like this was much worse. It was you, though, and he’d do anything for you. So he put on his jeans, pulled on his boots without bothering to knot them tightly, and headed for the door.

He called again when he got to the bar. He had no desire to go inside, but he was willing to storm in and storm right back out if he had to. And, judging by the way that his call went to voicemail, he thought that he was going to have to. Dropping his head back for a moment, he took a deep breath in an attempt to gear himself up to head inside.

Just as he swung open the door of the truck, you came stumbling out of the bar. He huffed out a tired chuckle at the sight of you, simply shaking his head as you crossed the street to get to him. You wobbled your way over, but you didn’t fall. He was honestly pretty impressed, especially given the shoes that you were wearing. He knew a fair share of people who wouldn’t be able to walk in those stone-cold sober. Honestly, he thought that you were one of those people.

“You’re here,” you all but flung yourself into his arms.

He caught you with a quiet oof, slipping his arms underneath yours as you leaned against his chest. “I am.”

“You’re the best, you know.”

He hummed, a little amused but not disagreeing with you. “C’mon. Let’s get you home.”

“I thought,” you looked up at him through your eyelashes, “maybe I could stay with you.”

He studied the look in your eyes, trying to gauge where you were at. After a few seconds that felt much longer than that, he caved. Nodding, he reached and pulled the passenger door open. “Alright, then. C’mon, love. Up you go.”

You clumsily clamored your way into the truck. “I thought you’d bring the bike.”

“You didn’t sound like you were in riding condition.” The second the words left his mouth he regretted it, not even having to look at you to know what your face looked like. He shook his head as he swung the car door shut. “Don’t.”

You laughed, leaning back in the seat and letting your eyes shut. “You said it, not me.”

The drive went by quickly. It had been a long time since you found yourself riding shotgun in the T-M truck. If you’d been a little more sober it would’ve crossed your mind that that meant he left his house on his bike, drove to the compound, swapped his bike out for the truck, and then made his way to you. It was more effort than most people would’ve put into coming to get you. When you sobered up, you’d have to thank him. Most people you’d offer to buy them a coffee, but you knew Chibs—there was a handle of whiskey with his name on it at the end of all of this.

“Wake up,” he said as he cut the ignition on the truck.

You shook your head as you stretched your arms up, “Didn’t fall asleep.”

“Close, though.”

“Yea,” you conceded, “close.”

The two of you made your way into his house. You kicked your heels off right at the door, the relief indescribable as your feet hit the ground, finally flat again after a long night. You didn’t even stop to ask if you were going to be sleeping on the couch or in his bed, just opting to make your way right to his bedroom. He shook his head as he watched you while he slipped out of his boots. It wasn’t long before he was trailing behind you.

When he got to the doorway of his bedroom, you were slowly pacing around the room, looking at everything like it was your first time crossing the threshold even though it was far from it. There wasn’t much to look at—it wasn’t as though Chibs was crazy about interior design. But it seemed to be enough to keep you amused for the short-term.

Walking up behind you, he gently rested his hands on your shoulders. He didn’t force you to turn around and face him, allowing you to poke your way through the various miscellaneous trinkets and pieces of jewelry on top of his dresser.

“Wanna talk about tonight?”

You turned to look over your shoulder at him, the confused look was a fleeting one before you refocused on what you’d been doing before. “Talk about it? What’s there to talk about?” You let out a laugh, but it wasn’t the same type of laugh as before. “Figured calling you was better than trying to drive myself home.”

“This isn’t like you, though.”

“What are you talking about?” you tried to sound unbothered, but even though you weren’t looking at Chibs, you could tell that he wasn’t sold on it.

“You don’ get like this when you’re doing good, darlin’. We both know that.” His thumbs gently traced back and forth across the exposed skin of your shoulders. “If you were out there tonight to have a good time, you’d be in someone else’s bed by now,” he gently turned you so that you were facing him before softly swiping away the smudged makeup from beneath your eyes, the only evidence left over from your previous meltdown in the bar bathroom, “and your eyes wouldn’ be looking like this.”

You sniffled, giving a smile and still not wanting to admit that he was 100% right. “What, ‘cause I wanna be in your bed tonight means that something’s wrong?”

He frowned. “The fact that you called my emergency burner, and were stumbling out the bar instead of walking, means something’s wrong.” He cupped the side of your face. “Don’t lie to me, love.”

The warmth of his palm against your skin and the earnest, albeit exhausted, tone of his voice stripped away the last of your resolve. No amount of liquor in the world could cover up your pain in front of him. Tears immediately sprung into your eyes and your lip started to quiver.

“Chibs,” you choked out, “please. I don’t,” you shook your head, dropping your face into your hands, “I can’t do this.”

You tried to lean into him but he stopped you, keeping you at arm’s length so you didn’t have the chance to hide. “Do what?”

“I can’t,” you gestured vaguely, as if to say everything.

His frown deepened, trying to figure out what happened, what set it all off this time around. It’d been a long time since he saw you looking so broken, a long time since he saw you so desperately trying to cover it all up and somehow still failing to do so. He was no stranger to burying things deep in his chest, trying not to think about the reality of the weight he carried on his shoulders each day. He knew what it was like to put on a brave face every day.

He also knew what it was like to be fucking exhausted.

“Did someone,” you felt the way his touch lightened as he forced the question out, “did someone hurt you?”

Tears spilled over onto your cheeks as you shook your head. “No.” You sniffled, not able to look him in the eyes. “I just, lately, I don’t know. I just fucking,” it felt impossible to string the words together, “I can’t not think about all of it.”

“All of what?”

You let out a laugh, but it was devoid of any humor. “Exactly. You can’t,” you shook your head, “you can’t even try to narrow it down.” You raked your hands along your scalp, “That’s,” your voice broke, getting louder even though you didn’t mean for it to, “that’s how much fucked up shit has happened to me! That’s how fucking fucked—”

He pulled you tight against his chest before you could say more. He didn’t say anything as he rested his hand so that it was cradling the back of your head. His other arm wrapped around you, pinning your arms to your sides as he held you.

The second your cheek pressed tight against his shirt, you broke down. Sobs wracked your entire body, leaving you a trembling mess against his steady frame. He wrapped his arm tighter around you as you cried against him, the sound causing an ache so deep inside his chest he didn’t even think that he had that kind of depth to him anymore.

“I can’t feel like this forever, Chibs,” you sobbed, shaking your head against him. “I can’t do this forever. I can’t fucking do it.”

He let his eyes shut as he held you, taking an unsteady breath as he tried to keep himself together for your sake. “I know.” The words were hardly a whisper—he didn’t think that he could manage much more.

“When does it stop?!” your voice cracked, legs finally buckling beneath the weight of your sadness. “When does it stop hurting?”

He quickly shifted his arms to make sure you didn’t crumble to the floor. You balled his shirt in your fists, clinging to him like he was your own personal life preserver. It wouldn’t be the first time that he was the only thing that he was keeping you afloat.

Chibs had been there as you dragged yourself through hardships that would’ve broken most other people. The hits kept coming, one after the other. There were times when he thought that you were going to give in underneath the weight of it all. You went through more in the span of a couple years than most people went through in a lifetime. It was horrific, but you still managed to get up every day and get out the door, even if on the other side of it there was just more heartbreak. He’d been there for all of it, sometimes a bit closer than others. There were times that distance was the best thing that he could give you, almost like having him too close was too stark of a reminder of what you’d been through.

Most times, though, he was doing something like what he was right now. It was never this intense, though. A hand to hold, a few brief words of comfort, a hug that lasted a few beats longer than necessary, a warm bed for the night—those were things that he had been for you time and time again. You usually turned up on his doorstep, silent but still somewhat put together. He could always tell by the look in your eyes where you were at and what you needed.

Which was why he knew that tonight was different. When distractions failed, you usually just needed someone there while you finished gluing yourself back together. But you were still in pieces. And he wasn’t used to that, not from you.

“Please, Chibs,” your buried your face against his chest, “tell me that it stops hurting. Tell me I’m not going to feel like this forever.”

“It…” He paused, trying to pick the right words but not wanting to lie to you. You’d never believed him when he bullshitted you. “You get better. It doesn’t. You do, though. You will.”

Your lips were still trembling as you leaned against him. “It doesn’t stop, does it?”

He kissed the side of your head. “You don’t either.”

Your voice was barely a whisper, “I wish I could.”

He always thought that it was an exaggeration when people said that they could feel their heart crumpling inside their chest. He understood it now, though, and if anything, they were underselling it. He squeezed you a little tighter. “I know.”

You were fighting to get your breathing back under control, and it was a fight that you were losing. Pressing your forehead against his chest, you said, “I just want it to stop hurting. I don’t, I don’t want to think about it. I don’t want to feel it.”

“I think that’s how we ended up here.”

You sucked in an unsteady breath. “I can’t,” your breathing stuttered, “I can’t keep doing this. I’m fucking tired, Chibs.” You shut your eyes tight, tears continuing to further dampen his shirt. “I don’t…I can’t…” your voice trailed off, not even sure what more there was to say. You didn’t have it in you to try and articulate everything that was running through your head, the thoughts and memories that were so loud you couldn’t even try to think about anything else.

Chibs could tell by the way you were melting into him, that you didn’t realize just how much he was still responsible for keeping you upright. All the strength was sucked out of you. He took a deep breath. “You don’t have to.” He started to shift both of you back towards his bed. “Come on, now.”

You let him sit you on the edge of the bed. You let him carefully peel your dress off over the top of your head. He tossed it, letting it drape over the footboard. You knew that you should’ve felt awkward, exposed sitting there in your bra and underwear with smeared makeup and tears still on your face, but you didn’t. Chibs stood between your legs, allowing you to drop your head against him once more as you wrapped your arms around his middle. He rested his hand between your shoulder blades, his fingers splaying across the bare skin of your back.

Eventually, you found yourself sliding underneath the covers, head resting on one of the two pillows by his headboard. You laid so that you were facing away from him, like that would somehow bury any of what had just transpired.

Instead of getting into bed behind you, where there was undoubtedly more mattress-space, he squeezed himself between you and the edge of the mattress. You let out a tired sigh, not able to look him in the eyes. “Chibs…”

“Get off my side, then,” he mumbled as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you tight against his now-exposed chest.

You didn’t have any fight left in you, so you just sank against him. Your breathing was starting to even out, but the tears were still steadily trickling down your face. They were dampening his skin now instead of his clothes, but he still didn’t seem to mind it all that much.

“I’ve got you.”

“I’m so sorry,” your voice shook as you apologized.

“I’m not,” his response sounded so certain.

“What if I don’t get better?”

He’d never heard you sound so scared, so small. He held you tightly, kissing the edge of your forehead. “I’ll still be here.”

“Promise?”

The desperation in your voice sent another ache through his heart. “Yea,” he kissed you again, “I promise.”

[the-hinky-panda]

Show me all your tatt's, not just the ones that's on your hands

Part I

Part II

Part III

Part IV

Part V

Chibs finally has you in his bed, wrapped in his sheets and nothing else. Smoke from the firepit still clings to your hair, adding to your perfume of eucalyptus and jasmine. Earthy, clean, and feminine. He buries his face in the curve of your neck because he wants to drown in that scent. Your skin is soft but in the dim lighting of the antique bedside lamp, his fingers encounter more raised scars than he anticipated. But gathering those stories will wait until morning. 

He can tell you’re used to quick fucks, just scratching an itch and moving on. Your hands are busy, in constant motion: raking through his hair, pressing into the sinews of his back, sliding over the curve of his ass. You’re quick, efficient, working towards the completion of a task. When you reach for his cock is when he grabs your ever busy hands, holding your wrists together in one of his own hands and pinning them above your head. 

“Slow, lass. We have all night.” He presses open mouth kisses along the line of your jaw. “And I intend to enjoy every minute.” 

You give him a pout but your eyes have nothing but heat in them. “You better not be taking things slow because of what I told you earlier.” 

His free hand finds your breast, his thumb flicking your nipple, your back arching underneath him. “Gentle and slow are two different things, luv.” 

Your mouth twists into a crooked grin before your legs wrap around his hips. He can feel the strength in them, especially when you squeeze your thighs around his, nudging the tip of his cock against your core. 

“Fucking hell, woman!”

You wink up at him. “Years of riding horses, luv.” 

Well, if that’s the way you want this to go, who is he to deny you that? He can go slow the second round, after he wears you out a little bit. He’ll give up some ground there. He allows you to move him into position, notched against your entrance. You bite your lip and raise an eyebrow when he rolls his hips forward, sliding partially into you. 

“Looks like I win this time.” 

He huffs a laugh. “Don’t get used to it.” 

He releases your hands and they immediately pull his face down to yours. You kiss him slowly, languidly, and he slides into you completely. It’s obvious you’ve headed his request to slow down; you’ve conceded some ground as well. Your legs remain wrapped around his hips, your hands gripping his shoulders so you have leverage to follow his pace. It’s a fucking spiritual encounter, your movements completely in sync with his, and it feels fucking amazing. He wants to slow it down even more, savor the feelings of your skin against his, your wet heat gripping his cock perfectly. 

But then your breath catches, your head tips back and back arches and he knows the end is coming. The headboard bangs against the wall as he chases his completion, spilling himself inside of you at the same time your shake underneath him with your release. He drops his forehead to your shoulder, pressing slopping kisses against your now salty, smokey skin. It takes a moment for him to realize the person on the other side of the wall is banging back with an irritated “Knock it off and go to sleep!” Both of you glare at the offending wall and shout “Fuck off” before dissolving into a fit laughter. 

He rolls onto his back, still chuckling, pulling you against him. You curl comfortably against his side, your head resting on his chest and a leg wrapped around his. He realizes this is the lightest he’s felt in months. The weight of grief with the recent losses, the stress of running the club, it’s suffocating. Being in Ireland drudges up an endless amount of memories and failures as well. All of it heavy, weighted chains pulling him down. Even his most recent failure with Althea, sex was something about proving something, his feelings for her, the shaky trust that would never be good enough for her. He had tried, he honest to God had tried to make it work with her. 

He’s tired of failing with relationships. 

But now, he feels like he’s able to take in a full breath of air now. With you, there’s no proving anything. There’s no competition or pushing each other until the other snaps. You fell into bed because you liked each other, respected each other. You didn’t second guess his every move and he didn’t worry about what you wanted from him. It was simple, direct, and hands down one of the best sexual encounters he’s had. 

He very well could fall in love with you. 

“You okay?” 

He can hear the doubt in your voice, the caution in your touch as you trace the edges of the tattoo on his chest. “Fuckin’ stellar luv.” 

You laugh quietly. “I have that effect on men. And a couple women.” 

“Oh, I wanna hear that story.” 

You kiss him briefly, sweetly, before sliding out from under the blankets. You reach down and start gathering up your clothes and he realizes that you’re getting ready to go back to your room. He reaches out, slides a hand over your back, along the curve of your waist, and rests it on the top of your hand. 

“Stay.” 

You turn and look at him over your shoulder, hair mussed and skin glowing warm in the soft lamplight. You’re a vision and he could stare at you for the rest of the night if you’d let him. He really hopes you’ll let him. A soft smile tugs at your lips, all sarcasm and biting wit gone from it. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

You lift your hand up and brush your lips over his knuckles. “Okay. Let me get cleaned up and I’ll be back.” 

He watches you cross the room, not a scrap of clothing on your body and zero shame in that state. He has questions about the scars he came across on your shoulder and stomach. You have tattoos that he hadn’t seen before: a horseshoe with sunflowers around it and an abstract horse made of curling lines on your shoulder blade. Both have initials and dates hidden in the artwork. He wants to know the stories behind those too. You step out of the bathroom and return to the bed, returning to his side. You lay your head on the pillow, facing him, your thumb running along his cheekbone, that soft smile returning to your lips before your eyes close. 

Who is he kidding? He’s already fallen in love with you.

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Spank - A Chibs Telford/Reader Smut Drabble.

Felt like doing a bit of whip play with Chibby. Enjoy!

Words - 426

Warnings - Smut below the cut, minors DNI!

It’s called a schooling whip. It is used by horse riders, primarily for the dressage discipline, the long whip administered to the horse’s flank in a tiny tap, meaning minimal movement beyond the flick of a wrist is needed to be used. A horse should never be tapped anything more than lightly with it. 

What you’re receiving with it, though, is most definitely beyond such subtlety.  

He strikes you, where you stand in place, cuffed to the large wooden X in the far corner of your play room. Yes, you bought a house with a basement specifically for this purpose, the dark red painted room now used solely for indulgences in kink. “Colour?”  

“Green.” That one wasn’t so bad. He knows if you say red, he has to dial it back.  

“Hmmm, I cannae be doing things properly then, if we’re still at green.” You gulp, anticipating the sting, feeling the small lash at the end of the whip tickle across your bare cheeks, slowly ascending your spine, teasing across your shoulders before contact is removed.  

The air is cut with a whoosh, the whip striking you hard across both butt cheeks. You flinch, a groan pouring from you. He does it again, this time eliciting a little whimper. “Colour?”

“Amber.” Oh yes, that time, it was edged in a smidgen more pain, yet this is what you love, your cunt brimming with the evidence of it, a sparkling little pool of slick beginning to wet your upper thighs, you lover noticing. He crouches behind you, his thumb rubbing between your folds, spreading that warm puddle of arousal around, seeking your clit as his tongue follows the bright red lashes across your butt, his teeth taking a gentle bite. “Mmm, fuck, that feels good.”

“Aye, baby. I bet it does. Daddy knows what you like by now.” he rumbles, standing once more, the lash of the whip now softly teasing where his thumb just rubbed, a breath hitching in your throat, the contact again removed before you’re struck once more. “Colour?”

A sob wells in your throat, the pain stinging, burning, knowing you’ll likely bruise from it. “Red.”

He chuckles, placing the whip down, coming to press himself against you, unfastening each cuff until your arms are released. He kisses the back of your neck, pulling you against him, his big, firm cock pressing hot at the base of your spine, his lips ghosting your ear before he whispers the words you’ve been craving all night. 

“I guess it’s only fair that I fuck you now.”

[triviadimplesblog]

🇹​​🇭​​🇪​ ​🇨​​🇷​​🇮​​🇲​​🇸​​🇴​​🇳​ ​🇭​​🇴​​🇷​​🇮​​🇿​​🇴​​🇳​

Chibs Telford x OC Brianne O'Connor

Warnings: violence, guns,

The Crimson Horizon Masterlist

Previous Next

Chapter Eight

Life had been kind to Brianne from the moment she impulsively decided to save Chibs, Tig, and Bobby. It was the best decision of her life, now that she looked back, whether or not it was impulsive. Now, five months into her relationship with Chibs, she had been ecstatic. She was riding with the boys, getting more important assignments as the months drew closer and closer to the one-year mark. She had formed good friendships with everyone around, except for Wendy. Speaking off, Jax and Wendy decided to end things, but then Wendy came forward and announced that she was pregnant. However, Jax still things it's not gonna work out between them so he allowed her to stay at their previously shared house and he was spending his nights at the Clubhouse.

Brianne and Chibs' relationship, however, had been smooth sailing. They had taken it slow for the first month, but then something between them shifted and suddenly they were spending nights at each others' places, even for a few nights in a row. Chibs almost had all his stuff at Brianne's apartment at this point. She didn't complain, she loved having him there as much as possible. To fall asleep while he was holding her, then waking up in his arms – it was a dream come true.

They had become the hot topic when it came to teasing, though. And their number one bully? Tig freaking Trager. He was not letting go of the fact that he slept with Brianne before she and Chibs got together and now he's using any chance he could get to mess with the Scotsman. For that one time Brianne was touching up her bike, trying to fix a minor issue. Chibs was by her side, guiding her through the process, explaining which part of the machinery did what and what she needed to look out for. Neither of them noticed Tig and Juice entering. „What are you now, some motorcycle expert or something?" Tig had said jokingly, looking at Brianne.

„She's got some serious skills for this. Quick learner." Chibs shot him a wary smile, hoping that was the end of it. Brianne smiled at the compliment, looking over her handy work.

Tig snickered and Brianne knew right away that he was about to shoot one of his lame jokes. „She's got other skills you're enjoying too, right?" She looked at Tig just in time to see him wiggle his eyebrows suggestively at Chibs and Juice laughing beside him. She rolled her eyes playfully, although she was used to his teasing by now.

„Just let me work on my bike in peace, bastard." She had said, feeling Chibs' supporting hand patting her shoulder.

Being a Prospect for these idiots wasn't easy. Half-Sack got the short end of the stick when it comes to that though. Sometimes she felt sorry for the fella, but there was nothing she could do about it. If she tried to defend him, they would turn their attention to her and start their usual teasing. All in good fun, of course.

Peace doesn't last long though. She wasn't aware of it, but Brianne's past was slowly catching up to her during those few blissfull months, and soon it would finally catch her. That day was scheduled for one of their meetings with Laroy, they have all been gathered at the Clubhouse for a breakfast that Gemma had prepared. They had to collect guns and then transport them straight to Laroy today. Brianne loved it when it was just them, no croweaters, no other charters (although she had nothing against any other charter at this point, they all had to accept her as a Prospect and they did, Clay made sure of that), but it was something special when it was just them. Until it all came crashing down. Gemma had just cleared the table, with the help of the Prospects, when some unfamiliar men burst through the room.

They all had them at gun point and there was no time for any of them to pull out their guns. So they were at the mercy of these people. Brianne's breath stopped midway when she noticed their uniforms. The very familiar logo that she grew up with. Then their leader entered. She felt as if the floor opened, sucking her into the dark hole. They found her. It was all over. The Shadow Hand had arrived. As Declan O'Rourke stood in front of her, smirking, she knew there was no getting out of this alive.

„What a lovely little situation we've got ourselves in here," Declan was looking around the Clubhouse until his eyes landed on Brianne. „Isn't that right Bri?" The Sons looked at each other in confusion. Just who was this guy and how did he know Brianne? „You've got yourself quite a life here in Charming. Shame that it must come to an end."

Brianne clenched her fists, this was not the time to go all soft. She had to protect her club. „I'm afraid yer wrong," She spoke sternly. Chibs watched her focused glare, she seemed different. Like a switch was turned on and she was a different person than she was a few minutes ago. „Ye've got no business here, leave or I'll make ye leave."

Declan laughed suddenly, a sound that sent shivers down her spine. „You were our best operative, Brianne. You know too much, and you've become a liability. You can't just walk away." The truth hurts. She did know too much, but she hadn't been a threat in over four years, why would she risk everything she acquired here, just to spite the organization?

She wasn't that stupid, even they had to know it. „I left that life behind," She spoke. „I won't go back."

Declan chuckled darkly. „Oh, sweetheart, there's no escape from the Shadow Hand. You know that better than anyone." When she didn't budge, he looked around, nodding at his men. Suddenly all the guns were pressed on the back of Sons' heads, even Gemma wasn't spared from that fate. Brianne's demeanor wavered slightly at the sight of her family being put in that position. She whipped out her gun and aimed it at Declan's head. He, in turn, aimed his at Chibs. „Tell you what, you come with us peacefully and I don't blow a hole into his head. Would be a shame if your handsome Scotty died right here, wouldn't it?" Declan watched as Brianne was struggling with her options. He spoke again. „Or you could kill me, but then my men would kill every one of them," He was motioning around at all the faces she grew to love. „You can't save them all in time-„

„Alright!" Brianne shouted, easing the grip on her gun and slowly putting it down. „I'll go with you. Just don't hurt anyone." Declan jerked his head in her direction silently, putting down his gun. The two men, who had their guns aimed at Gemma and Tig, instantly grabbed her by her arms and began pushing her out the door. She didn't have any courage to look at her friends, especially not Chibs. She had messed up by letting herself settle down in the small town of Charming and almost had people she cared about killed. Now she had to pay for her mistakes. But at least they will all survive, she told herself. Her heart sank as the men led her through the Clubhouse door and towards the two vans waiting for her. She couldn't believe she had let her guard down after almost five years of freedom, and put the people she cared about in danger – and the man she loved with all her heart. She turned her head towards the Clubhouse one more time and locked eyes with Chibs. As soon as her eyes met hers, he tried to reach her, but Tig and Juice held him back.

„Let her go, ye bastards!" He shouted. Her heart broke at the anger and desperation in his voice. At that point, the Shadow Hand's men were already loading into the vans one by one and the Sons were standing outside of their Clubhouse, still as confused as ever.

„Don't try to follow us," Declan warned. „Or I really will blow a hole in Telford's head." He turned to Brianne, forcefully pushing her into the van. „Daddy dearest can't wait to see you, Brianne. Let's go."

The Sons gathered back in the Clubhouse, their assignment of the day, long forgotten. Chibs paced back and forth, having been already stopped from following after them. Jax had sent Half-Sack to discretely follow the vans and let them know of their whereabouts every few hours if they stray too far. But Chibs wanted to charge right away, not even caring for his safety. Clay looked deep in though, remembering when she told them that the less they knew about her past the better. Maybe if she had told them, they could have foreseen all of this and prevented it. But on the other hand, he did understand why she hid this from them.

Suddenly Gemma approached him, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. „We couldn't have predicted this, Clay," she said softly, knowing the turmoil he was going through. „We didn't know what we were up against." Gemma always knew what to say when someone was going through shit, and she had always been Clay's person to lean on when he needed it the most. So he appreciated having her by his side at this moment as well.

„I just wish she had trusted us enough to share more about what she was running from," He sighed. „Maybe we could have protected her from this."

Gemma understood what he meant by that, she wished Brianne had told them about her life before the Club, but the girl must have had a good reason not to. „Sometimes people keep their past hidden to protect themselves and those they care about," she said. „She was trying to start fresh with us, away from whatever she left behind."

Chibs hadn't meant to listen to their conversation, but he had caught Gemma's words. He had calmed down and cleared his head after realizing that charging in now would do neither of them any good. He was a stable person whenever they faced trouble and he shouldn't change that now either. Not when Brianne needed him the most. He faced Clay and Gemma, nodding. „Aye, she wanted a new life, a clean slate," he said, his voice tinged with frustration. „We can't blame her for that."

Clay nodded, sighing once again and standing up. „Church, now." He began walking towards the Chapel when he turned to Tig. „And get Happy and the Tacoma boys here, now." Tig just nodded, getting to making the phone call right away. The rest of the Sons took their seats in the Chapel and after Tig was done he entered as well, closing the door shut. The tension in the Chapel was palpable and could be cut with a knife, but they were used to situations similar to these and knew how to deal with the pressure. „Juice, what do we know?"

Juice had been tasked with finding out anything he could find about the supposed 'Shadow Hand', questioning any of his contacts he could ask and even going as far as doing a simple internet search. He looked up from his laptop at his brothers. He cleared his throat. „So far, I've managed to dig up some information on the Shadow Hand," He began. „They're a highly secretive and dangerous organization with ties to international crime networks. They've been involved in everything from drug trafficking to arms dealing, and they're known for their ruthless tactics."

„So what do they want from Bri?" Jax leaned in, focusing on Juice.

„I couldn't find anything on Bri. If she was a part of the organization, they must have wiped everything they had on her," Juice shook his head. „I'm guessing they see her as a liability?" He froze for a moment. „Hold up," With a few more taps on the keyboard, his eyes widened. „Holy shit."

„What? What you got?" Tig questioned.

Juice turned his laptop screen to his brothers. „This is Michael O'Connor."

The Sons leaned in to look at the image displayed on Juice's laptop screen. It was a photograph of a man in his late forties, with a hardened and dangerous look in his eyes. "Who's Michael O'Connor?" Jax asked, furrowing his brow.

„Brianne's father." Chibs suddenly chimed in. He stared at the man who looked as ruthless as any of the IRA Kings he used to know. Juice's nod only confirmed his suspicion. Chibs had asked Brianne about her family but the only person she ever talked about was her mother. Beautiful woman, according to Bri. She never mentioned anything about her father, not even his name. Chibs could only conclude that he must not be winning any 'Father of the Year' awards. „We should focus on the leader. Declan, wasn't it?"

Juice shook his head. „He's not the leader," He returned to his laptop screen one more time and typed something before showing it to his brothers once again. „Victor Blackthorn." Chibs' eyes narrowed at the image of the said man on Juice's laptop screen. There was a strange glint in the man's eyes, he could see it, even on an image. That was a man not to be messed with, Chibs could tell that much. Just how did Brianne escape from these people in the first place?

„So what's the plan?" Tig asked. „We can't just sit here and do nothing." It had taken a lot of strength for the Sergeant at Arms not to shoot every single man that broke into their home and took their Prospect from them. He was eager to break some bones once they track down the fuckers, that's for sure.

Clay cleared his throat. „We need to gather more intel before we do anything. We meet Laroy as planned, and see if he heard of this Shadow Hand. Juice, keep digging, see if you can find any weakness in the Shadow Hand's operations," Juice nodded, muttering how hard it would be since they seem to have any internet info on lockdown. „Bobby, reach out to your contacts and see if anyone knows anything about this Blackthorn guy," Bobby got up right away, exiting the Chapel and already calling everyone he assumed could help. „And Chibs," The Scotsman's head snapped in his President's direction. „You need to keep a level head. We can't afford to lose you too."

Chibs nodded, agreeing with his Prez. Clay was surely right, Brianne needed him and he had to be stable for her sake. „I hear ye, Clay," He responded. He did his best to keep his voice steady despite the hurricane of emotions raging inside his heart.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

Brianne was pulled out of the van by Declan, who wore a satisfied smirk on his face. The drive wasn't long and she was sure they took her just outside of Lodi somewhere, which meant there was still hope for the Sons to catch up before they took her to Chicago. She was taken to a hotel they stopped by and with no doubt, Brianne was sure her father awaited her there. When the two of them entered, she wasn't surprised to notice how desolate the hotel looked and she concluded that the Shadow Hand had bought the entire hotel just for this reunion today. It wouldn't be the first time they took drastic measures such as that.

Declan led her down a corridor and in front of a double-sided door. She knew her father awaited on the other side, but when the door opened she wasn't expecting to see Victor Blackthorn as well – the cunning leader. Both men stared at her with ruthless eyes. Michael briefly dismissed Declan, who closed the door shut. Once she was alone with her father and Victor, her heart began pounding in her chest. She wasn't afraid, not until now at least. If Victor was here, it would be serious. 

@crazyworldofsiani

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

sons of anarchy fans!! i have decided!!

as well as writing for jax, i'll now also write for juice, chibs, and opie.

if you have any thoughts (filthy or otherwise... the filthier the better... ;)) please send them my way... <3

this old man makes me feral. i won't apologise ✋🏻

edit - read my first chibs fic here.

[thisreadswhatever]

The Chase: Part One

Pretty Sweet

series masterlist

[description]: jax teller x female reader

[wordcount]: 2.7k+

[summary]: Jax Teller is used to getting what he wants. At least that was the case before he met you.

[cw]: 18+ only minors do not interact - AU, follows some canon characters & themes but timeline is different. otherwise none yet, but stick with me, I have a smutty plan!

[authors note]: this has been really fun to write. thank you so much to this anon for requesting this idea! I plan on writing a good few parts of this.. as I am really loving writing this reader insert. if you have any ideas or suggestions on where you would like this to go, please let me know! I absolutely love getting your suggestions. I really hope you enjoy!

It had been a long sixteen hour drive. You sighed with relief as you sped past the large wooden slice, “WELCOME TO CHARMING”. You rolled your windows down, the wind blistering through your hair as you took in the warm California sun. 

You turned the music up, attempting to drown out the events replaying in your head that led you here in the first place. 

Charming wasn’t exactly on your bucket list of places to travel. Your parents had split a few years back, after your mom decided she could no longer handle the baggage that came with the Sons of Anarchy MC. Your Dad was an avid member of the Denver Charter, and she soon realised she couldn’t sit back and watch as he grew deeper into the Club. It was a quick and amicable divorce, made easier by the fact you were an only child and more than understanding of why the relationship had to end. You were old enough to see the pain your mom went through trying to make it work, and you knew that it was the best decision for them both. Your Dad on the other hand, never really got over it. 

When your mom remarried last year, he decided to leave Colorado and transferred to the SAMCRO Charter. Charming was his home now. He’d been begging you to visit him for months, and despite the fact you were genuinely pleased that he was happy, seeing him so far from home and content without his family wasn’t something you’d looked forward too. 

Charming was a small place, and from what your Dad had told you, it had never really left the seventies. Denver was the total opposite, a city full of life and people, and ever growing with new expanding chains of business. Even with the freezing winters, there was always something to do in Denver. But Charming? They barely had a population of fifteen thousand. 

You had evaded the trip for as long as you could, blaming college assignments and exams for the reason you couldn’t make the drive. Now that you’d graduated, the excuses had run thin, and it was time to visit your Dad in Charming. 

You pulled into the road of the address he had given you, entering a long unpaved driveway that ended on the outside of a dainty cabin. Your Dad’s bike was parked stagnant on the dirt. You dug your suitcase out from your trunk and walked up the wooden steps to the porch, bringing your hand to the door to knock. Before your knuckles could meet the wood, the door flung wide and your Dad lunged at you with open arms. 

“You’re finally here!”, he squealed in excitement as he grasped you into a giant bear hug.

“‘Finally’ is right. That was a serious drive, Dad.”

He took your suitcase and carried it through the entryway. “Sure is. I’m so glad you got here safely, kiddo. Come on, let’s get you settled. You hungry? I was just about to make some lunch.”

You followed him inside as you observed the interior of the quaint, dusty cabin. “I could definitely eat.” 

—

Your Dad showed you to your room and then became sidetracked from lunch, giving you a full tour of his new home and the complete low down of all things SAMCRO. He’d explained that the place was owned by the Club, but nobody ever frequented it unless they were in hiding. Your Dad was housed here for the long term, or at least until he could find something he liked better inside the Charming suburbs. 

Once he’d caught you up, he made his start on lunch. You watched as he strolled throughout the kitchen, sitting patiently at the small round dining table. 

“It’s a nice place, Dad. Not sure how I feel that you’re out here all alone though.”

“I’m barely here, kiddo. Spend most of my time down the Clubhouse.” He shrugged nonchalantly as he continued to make sandwiches, dropping a piece of turkey in the process. “I can’t wait for you to meet the guys, y/n. A lot more warm than the ones up in Denver. Some of them are your age too.” He placed the plate in front of you, and you grimaced at the site. Your Dad had never claimed to be a great chef. 

“Thanks.” You smiled at him politely, taking a bite and struggling to swallow down the piece of dry sandwich. “I’m sure they’re great, Dad.”

“So, how’s your mom?” 

You shrugged dismissively, unsure how to broach the uncomfortable topic of the newly weds. “She’s doing well. Mike is good to her.” 

He nodded. “That’s good. I’m really glad she’s happy.” 

It was hard to see your Dad try to be okay with the fact that your mom had moved on. The awkward silence was interrupted by his chair scraping against the floor as he stood up from the table. “Finish lunch and we can head on out. The guys are getting together at the Clubhouse tonight, you can meet them all there.”

You knew an evening with a bunch of Californian bikers was going to be inevitable during your trip. At least you could get it over with on the first night. 

“Sounds great, Dad.” 

—

You weren’t thrilled to be back in the confines of your car so soon after your long road trip, but your Dad knew better than to ask you to sit on the back of his motorcycle.

You rolled the windows down of your car as you followed his bike through the winding road from the cabin. As you re-entered Charming, you passed by locally run stores and cafes. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think this was a quiet, peaceful town. But you did know better. You knew what the Club’s presence actually meant for a small community like Charming. If SAMCRO was anything similar to the Denver Charter, the underworkings of this town would be anything but quiet and peaceful. 

You pulled into the lot of Teller-Morrow Automotive Repairs, instantly drawn to the huge row of Harley motorcycles lined up on the inner bays.

Your Dad parked up and met you outside your car, telling you all about his new job in the garage as you walked together. He led you across the lot towards a small black door, entering into the SAMCRO clubhouse. It was impressive, a comfortable space with its own bar and lounge area. The place was full of MC memorabilia and pictures from the club’s long history. The furthest wall was centered by two large double doors that were surrounded by mugshots of the SAMCRO members. You had visited the Denver Clubhouse enough to know that room was where the decisions were made.

Your Dad introduced you one by one to several members that were there, a few of which he’d mentioned to you that afternoon. Bobby, Chibs, Trager, Juice and Opie all greeted you with open arms. They were extremely friendly and welcoming, just as your father had promised. The one your Dad called Trager seemed very pleased with your arrival, hugging you for a little too long. Your Dad managed to break the long embrace, pulling you away to start touring you around the building. 

“Don’t get too close to that one, kiddo. He’s a little out there.” 

You giggled as you nodded in agreement, “I’ll keep my distance.” 

—

You sat alongside the club’s Secretary, Bobby, on a leather bench that faced out with a view of the entire room. You observed as the Clubhouse filled with more members and women, a handful of which were old ladies. The rest of them, very clearly single. Of all the members you’d met so far, Bobby had been the easiest to talk to. He clued you in on some of the Club’s legitimate businesses, Cara Cara and Red Woody Productions. You figured that’s where most of the girls came from, retired and current porn stars. 

It was a little strange, and anyone else may have felt uneasy seeing their father in this kind of environment. But you were used to the life of girls and guns from growing up with a dad in a motorcycle club. The Denver Charter had its fair share of women in and out of their doors, but mainly just bartenders and the odd crow eater looking for a way in. These girls were more forward, scantily clothed, makeup on point, and obviously comfortable with their surroundings.  

Bobby nudged your shoulder, regaining your attention from the party happening around you. “You know your Dad talks about you constantly. He’s so happy that you’re here, kid. We all are.” 

You glanced over at your father, a huge smile forming as he collected a drink from the bar. 

“He does seem happy. Just weird seeing him away from home.” 

“You got a home here with us too now, y/n.” He placed his arm over you and squeezed your shoulder reassuringly, “we’re your family as much as we are his.” 

“That’s really sweet, Bobby. Thanks.” 

He pulled his arm back as he chuckled to himself, his large stomach bellowing as he laughed. “I am pretty sweet.” 

Suddenly, the front door opened and a roar of drunken welcomes filled the clubhouse as two more members entered. The President of SAMCRO, Clay Morrow, walked in smiling ear to ear, hands held up as though he was a celebrity greeting his adoring fans. You’d heard a lot about Clay from your father, mainly that he was the initial sponsor for his transfer from Denver, and some remarks about what an ass he was. Behind him, a much younger member followed, embracing Opie as he entered. He was different from the other members, not totally clean cut, but you could at least tell he had showered. Not only was he bathed, he wasn’t harsh on the eyes either. You watched as he talked with Opie, his hands pushing his long blonde hair behind his ears as he spoke. 

“Who’s that?” You asked Bobby, your eyes never feigning from the man. 

“That’s Jax. Club’s VP.” 

As you watched him converse with Opie, he suddenly glanced your way, locking eyes with you. You quickly turned away from him and back towards Bobby. 

“He looks a little young to be Vice President”, you mumbled as you took a swig from your beer, still conscious that he was looking at you. 

Bobby laughed, “Yeah, well, he’s a Teller. His Dad was First 9 alongside Clay and Piney Winston, Ope’s pops. Jax has been SAMCRO since he came out of the womb.” 

You raised your eyebrows, glancing back over your shoulder. Jax’s attention had now been obtained by one of the Cara Cara girls. She was pulling him in by his cutte, batting her eyelashes at him as she leaned against the bar. 

Bobby watched as you observed Jax. He sipped his drink, amused by your interest. “He’s known for his way with the ladies.” 

You wanted to press Bobby further, but your Dad suddenly was stumbling over beside you, placing a hand on your shoulder. 

“Come on over here, kid. I want you to meet my sponsor.” 

“The asshole?”, you whispered to him as you stood up from the chair.

He snickered back at you, patting you on the back. “He’s having a good day.” 

—

You were impressed by the brotherhood the Redwood Originals shared. It wasn’t unfamiliar to the Denver Charter, but the way the members of SAMCRO loved one another was palpable. You observed quietly throughout the night as they all ripped into each other with lighthearted banter and spilled beer all over the place. You were conflicted by the fact your Dad fit in so well here. It was painful to know he had chosen this life over one with you in Denver, but you still felt at peace knowing he had found a place in this family. 

He was now slumped over a leather armchair in the lounge, snoozing after one too many beers. You nudged his shoulder, trying to wake him. “I’m gonna head back to the cabin, Dad. I’ll meet you here in the morning?” 

“You sure, y/n?” He tried to stand up as he slurred, but his balance failed him, collapsing back into the seat. “I can lead you back-” 

You chuckled, placing a hand on his head as he closed his eyes, “No way are you getting on a bike in this state. I remember the way.” 

Tig overheard and slid himself beside you, placing an arm across your waist. “We’ll take care of him, sweetie. Don’t you worry. Get back safe, okay?”

You unwound from his grasp, collecting your bag from the coffee table as you searched through the contents for your keys. “Thanks Trager.”

A strange laugh left his throat as he watched you leave, before his face turned straight as a board. “Call me Tig.” 

You said your goodbyes to the members that were sober enough to communicate, and made your way to the parking lot. 

Jax Teller was sitting outside the clubhouse, journal and pencil in hand. He glanced up at the sound of the door opening, a lit cigarette hanging from his lips.

He smiled boldly, in a way that perplexed you. Almost like he was happy to see you, even though you’d never met. He took the cigarette from his lips as he asked, “you’re Ralph’s kid, right?”

“I usually just go by y/n.”

He placed his pencil inside the journal and tucked it snug in his cutte, standing from the bench. “It’s a nice thing you’re doing, coming all this way to see him.”

You nodded, “had to make sure my Dad wasn’t living with some crazed psychopaths, you know?” 

He exhaled, his lips forming a perfect O as the smoke left his lips. “Pretty sure a few of those knuckleheads could pass for psychotic”, he teased. His mouth pulled into an infectious smile, and you couldn’t help but smile back. 

Jax walked closer towards you, your bodies now inches apart. He held out an open pack of cigarettes, prompting you to take one. You shook your head, declining the offer.

 “And what about you? How’s your level of sanity?” 

Jax hesitated. “A work in progress.” 

You smiled politely as you walked past him, making your way to the car. “Anyway, I was just leaving. Was nice meeting you.” 

Jax’s brow creased in concern, “you heading to the cabin on your own?” 

You looked over your shoulder to see him pacing behind you, flicking his cigarette to the cement.

“My Dad’s not exactly in riding order.” 

“I can take you back.” 

You stopped outside your car and turned to him, scoffing at how forward he was. “I met you thirty seconds ago.”

“So?” He shrugged. 

“I don’t really think that’s appropriate.” 

“I’m not asking to get in bed with you, y/n. You can ride the Harley with me and I’ll leave the second you’re in the cabin.” 

You opened the car door, sliding into the seat. “Not gonna happen.” 

“I won’t lay a hand on ya, darlin’,” he raised his hand up, smiling, “scouts honor.” 

You pressed your lips together, suppressing yourself from giggling at his innocent gesture. “I don’t ride bikes.” You affirmed. 

Jax cocked his head at you, confused at the statement. “Denver girl’s scared of bikes?” 

Your eyes rolled at his assumption. “No offense, but I just met you. I’m not sure my safety is your concern.” You shut the car door, realising your window had been left ajar from the way there. You wanted to curse aloud that the good Californian weather enabled the opportunity to ride with the windows down.

Jax didn’t push further, nodding his head as he watched you settle into the driver's seat. “No offense taken.”

Jax leaned his head into the open window, resting his arms on the roof of the car. You turned the ignition, letting the engine roar to life. “Nice to meet you, Jax.” 

“You too, darlin’. Will I see you again?” 

You were looking directly at him, your faces parted only by the frame of the window between you. “I’m here for the week, darlin’.” 

His lips pulled from ear to ear, smiling playfully as you put the gear in reverse, forcing his hands off the car as you pulled out of the parking lot. You peaked in the rear-view mirror, finding Jax still watching you drive away into the Charming night.

back to masterlist

[the-wandering-lunatic]

Scars Remain - Pt. 4

Bishop Losa x Female OC, Lex

Mayans & SOA crossover

⚠️ Warnings: domestic violence, abusive relationship, panic attacks, normal canon violence

PART ONE / PART TWO / PART THREE

Part Four

Bishop stood, hurling the beer bottle across the room to shatter against the far wall, fury burning through his veins.

Chibs' fist swung out to Bishop, catching him below the eye, knocking him back to the couch. Chibs towered over him. "You should've fuckin called the moment you found out she was my daugh'er! No, instead you decided to fuck her-!"

Bishop rose and clocked Chibs in the jaw, making him stumble backwards.

"The fuck did you let her leave with that son of a bitch in the first place!?" He hollered at Chibs. "This is all on you!" Bishop seethed, shoving at Chibs again. The rest of the Mayans stood, waiting the next move.

"Good!" Tig yelled, clapping as he and Happy stood from their seats at the bar, moving to them. "Get that shit out of your system so you're not trashing shit in front of her like fucking animals!" He motioned between Chibs and Bishop. "You two need to handle your shit right fucking now. Beat the shit out of each other or what have you, but fucking handle it! I'm not having her see any of this! I'm getting her out of here. Call me when you're done!" His eyes wild as he stepped back and jerked the clubhouse door open, slamming it behind him as the chaos erupted.

___

The next thing I knew, a hot plate of eggs and bacon was sat in front of me. I snapped to the present and looked around. Tig and I were at a diner just outside of Santo Padre. How I got here was a blur. My brain a jumbled mess from earlier this morning at the clubhouse.

"You with me, doll?"

My stomach growled loudly and I slowly lifted a piece of bacon from the plate. My hand trembling.

"Well, ya got an appetite, so that's a start."

I glanced up at him, his ice blue eyes warily watching me.

I devoured the plate in front of me in silence. My only focus right now on staunching the hunger. I leaned back, placing the fork on the empty plate. The fog began to clear from my mind. My thoughts slowing as I processed this morning's events.

Happy...

My father...

Finally coming clean with everyone...

Bishop...

"He wants nothing to do with me now..." I whispered, staring at the now empty plate. "He wouldn't even look at me.."

Tig sighed, taking a gulp of coffee. "If that's the case, then I'll kill him myself...if Chibs hasn't already." He sat the mug back down. "But, think about it, sweetheart. You just relived your worst nightmare in front of him." He paused, placing his hand on mine as I gripped the side of the table. "He just heard every horror that fucking bastard did to his girl...that you almost died. He needs a beat to process it all. He's angry - not at you, doll-" he countered, seeing the expression on my face. "-none of that was your fault so stop blaming yourself right now." His voice was strained, trying to real his anger in as he pointed at me. He closed his eyes a moment and drew a deep breath in. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. Like I said, it was... a lot to hear. We all want our turn with the prick. We're all angry, but none of it is directed at you. Alright?"

I chewed on my lip, going over everything he'd said. Tig was right. I knew he was. But being able to forgive myself after all this time of thinking everything was my own doing, that I deserved it all... was going to take time.

"I just don't want everyone to look at me with pity. I don't want to see that. I can't-"

"Hey...relax, babe. If they do, then just call Uncle Tigger and I'll set them straight." He smirked across the table at me.

I forced a small smile back at him. It didn't reach my eyes, but it was a step forward.

"We missed you so much, baby girl-"

Tig was cut short by his phone ringing. He glanced at the number and grunted as he stood. "Stay here. I'll be right outside."

I nodded, picking up the still steaming cup of coffee in front of me as I watched him walk out to the lot. Surprisingly, no tears had fallen since I'd been with Tig this morning. I'm not sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Was I closing off? Becoming numb and compartmentalizing? Or was I finally moving forward and healing?

___

4 months later...

I sat on the rooftop of the clubhouse, the night dark except for the lights from the yard. I'd found this to be my escape when the parties got a little too claustrophobic. My personal vantage point where I could silently observe everyone.

I heard the hatch rattle and soon enough, EZ came to sit next to me.

I took one final drag off my cigarette and shoved the butt into my empty beer bottle, taking the fresh cold one EZ handed me.

"Bishop's looking for you."

I snorted. "He should know where I am by now, E." We clinked bottles "Salud."

He chuckled "He does. He sent me-"

"To come check on me" I finished his sentence, shaking my head. "I love the man, but he can be suffocating at times since..." I trailed off.

It had been 4 months since my worlds collided at the bonfire. Everything tilted after Happy had unexpectedly been at the clubhouse that night. Forcing my dark secrets into the light, resulting in a downward spiral in my head for a few weeks. After my recounting of the abuse and my attempted murder at the hands of Ryan, my father had damn near dragged me from Santo Padre. Bishop and him got into it, each coming away with sore jaws and bruised egos. I'd managed to convince my father to let me stay. I wasn't a child anymore, hadn't been for some time, and we agreed that Charming may not be safe just yet until we knew what or if Ryan would try and do anything. The Mayans were now my family too, and would go to the death for me...and as much as my father hated to admit it, he knew I'd be safest here. At least for a while.

A switch had flipped inside Bishop after that. While he assured me that nothing that had happened to me was my fault, it took a while to shake the thoughts from my head. But Bishop was always there with a comforting presence when my demons would surface.

Bishop was constantly at my side, and when he couldn't be, EZ was tasked as my shadow. I'd hated having a tail at first, but EZ and I quickly developed a sibling type relationship.

EZ sighed. "Yeah, but can you blame him?"

"No, I get it. It just gets too much at times and I need some space is all."

EZ held the bottle up, pausing before taking a drink. "Have you tried telling him that?"

I cocked my head, giving EZ a side glare silently saying 'really?'

He laughed. "Bish isn't the best at being told what to do."

I laughed lightly "Understatement of the decade."

I smiled to myself. As protective and somewhat overbearing as Bishop was at times, it came from a place of deep love, and I was grateful.

EZ and I fell into comfortable silence for a few moments before I took a breath, eyes locked on the small bonfire below. "Will you teach me to fight?"

EZ froze mid sip and lowered his beer as he looked over to me "What?"

I huffed out a breath and faced him. "Teach me to fight...box....spar, whatever you want to call it." I waved the beer bottle.

"No, I heard you. I just... I guess I expected someone would've taught you growing up..."

I looked down at my hands, picking at the label on the bottle "Never had the need.... until I did and I couldn't defend myself. I refuse to let that happen again. No matter what Bishop says or does, he won't be there at all times, and neither will you... I need this, E. Please."

He stared down at the fire for a moment, the flames dancing in his dark eyes before meeting my gaze and giving a small smile. "We'll start tomorrow."

~💀~

Tags:

@shinymoonstarfish @saltyunicorn079 @stitchattacks

[ravennaortiz]

Last Supper

Summary :The Final installment of Not What It Seems. 18+. The night after Change of Heart. All secrets of the last few years are presented and a final judgment is made. Twelve sit down but not all stand back up. Usual show disclaimers, past DV/SA brought up but no detail.

Tag List:@callsignwidow @danzer8705

"Sorry were late" you called as you and Juice walked in hand and hand to the dining room where most of the club was seated with Halfsack following close behind. "No worries sweetheart " stated Gemma as she gave you a half hug as she shared a look with Clay. You and Juice being a thing was not something they had known about and that worried her. "Could have called" stated Clay from his seat at the head of the table. "Lot of things people could have done yet didn't" you replied meeting his steely gaze until he looked away. You weren't the same scared little girl who just did what you told. Now you were a full blown problem and was ready to bring the fires of hell down upon this " family".

"Car accident?" Inquired Jax as he watched the three of you sit down. Your eyes flicked up to meet his before moving to Chibs who gave a slight nod to let you know he had already told him about the conversation last night. "This time" you replied with a smile as your eyes slid over to Clay who was glaring at you. "Hunny, where is that grand baby of mine? " inquired Gemma as she tried to defuse the tension that was building in the room. This was what she had always worried would happen. Especially after the conversation when you came back home. You were going to destroy them all.

"None of your concern where my son is" you snipped as you sent her a smile that could kill. "Don't talk to your mother like that" growled Clay as he leaned forward on the table pointing at you. "Or what Clay?" you questioned as you tilted your head your eyes daring him to say anything. "Enough" stated Gemma as she set the main course down with a clatter.

Everyone was eating in silence when Jax set his fork down and spoke. "Anyone have anything they want to say?" he inquired as he leaned back in his chair. "Amazing dinner as always Gem" stated Tig with a laugh unsure what the building tension in the air was about. "Very good" agreed Bobby as he glanced at Clay and then to Piney. "Not the only thing of my mom's you like tasting huh?" Laughed Jax darkly as Gemma dropped her fork mouth agape in shock. "Not sure what you mean man" laughed Tig as he did his best not to look at Gemma or Clay.

"Interesting. Well maybe my mom or wife have something to say? Maybe about someone's car accident that wasn't a fucking car accident" snapped Jax slamming his fist down on the table. At this point no one was eating as they glanced around the table. "Unser, upstanding officer of the law do you want to tell me about that night?" Inquired Jax as he stood up shaking Tara's hand off him as tears trailed down her face. "What about you Piney? Care to tell me anything about my best friend? Bobby how about you? I'm sure you would like to tell me about hush money right?" he continued as he made his way around the table slowly.

Jax walked around the table coming to a stop behind you making Juice tense. "Relax" stated Jax as he patted Juice on the shoulder. "Your good for her. It's why I never said anything about yalls sneaking around." He continued catching both of you by surprise. "I'm a bit pissed you let her run off for six years and told me you had no idea where she was. I get why you did it now" stated Jax as he looked at Gemma as tears started to spill down her cheeks.

"Mom why don't you start the truth train. Since your the reason we got here in the first place. With my supposed baby sister plotting to kill all of us" stated Jax as he moved to stand behind Gemma his hand on her shoulder tight. Clay gave a laugh at that. "She wouldn't dream of it". He stated as he folded his arms over his chest. Jax grinned before speaking again. "If you broke my mom's no weapons during family dinner rule please place your piece on the table" stated Jax as he looked around the seated people. "They wouldnt" started Clay as he heard Chibs grunt as he set his gun on the table next to his whiskey glass before picking it up and sipping it casually.

He was quickly followed by Halfsack, you and Juice. "Almost forgot" murmured Jax as he pulled his gun out placing it against Gemmas head making her grab the table as her eyes widened. "So mom. Whose my sister's real dad?" asked Jax as everyone else sat silent. "Tig" whispered Gemma as she sobbed into her hands as Clay turned on Tig. "What the hell" snapped Clay in disbelieve as Tig looked down at the table.

"Alright. We are getting some where. Now Tig who killed Donna?" Inquired Jax as he pointed the gun at him. "Me" gulped Tig as he looked at Jax. "Who were you suppose to kill?" asked Jax next. "Opie... I was suppose to kill Opie that night on club orders" stated Tig as he closed his eyes sick at the memory. "Weird Piney isn't it because I don't remember the club voting on that" inquired Jax as he moved to stand behind him.

"Tara. Tell me what happened to my sister that night." ordered Jax as he walked behind her. Tara looked at Gemma but stayed silent. "I asked a question Tara" stated Jax as he leaned down turning her face to his. "She was in an accident" stated Tara quietly. "Interesting. Given your medical knowledge is it typical of car accidents to get you pregnant against your will? inquired Jax his eyes full of a hate she had never seen before. When she didn't respond he moved to stand behind Halfsack. "What did you see that night" asked Jax.

"Juice asked me to pick her up because her car broke down. When I got there I saw Opie ride away and she was facedown in the dirt next to her car. She was bloody, bruised, unconscious and it was obvious what Opie had done." replied Halfsack uncomfortable at having to recall that night. "Thank you. See how easy that was Tara?" asked Jax as he moved back behind you. "Tell me about that night Opie was killed" stated Jax. "I came here and through a fit after I found out I was pregnant. Clay had Bobby give me money to keep quite. I put a hit out on him. My only regret is I wish it had been longer" you replied as you looked down at the table and slid your hand onto your gun.

This night was only ever going to end in one of two ways. "Does everyone feel better? Knowing that they can die without anything left unsaid?" inquired Jax as he walked back towards Clay. "Jax you " started Tara before a gunshot silenced her and she slumped forward. She was quickly followed by Gemma, Clay, Unser, Bobby, Piney and Tig. The smell of gun powder filled the air and the blood flowed off the table in streams.

Twelve sat down and five stood up and walked away. A charter reborn.

The End