#chibs telford fanfic

[tumbleweed-writes]

Death and the Lady: Chibs Telford x Reader

An idea I've been tossing around in my head. Might continue it if anyone is interested in more.

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The plan to pull any forensics team from Lodi heading to the Sons burnt warehouse and the two dead bodies in the cellar of said warehouse was a bold one. Jax was proud of himself for  coming up with a creative solution that would require no spilt blood.

He spoke quick to present his plan to his uncertain brothers. “Look, all we need for a murder is bodies and a crime scene.”

Chibs was fast to speak, not quite getting how this was any different from the prior plan they’d had to just kill some Nords and attract the attention of Lodi’s forensics team. "Ya lost me Jackie."

Jax replied the answer was so obvious. “Skeeter, guy’s got more gambling debt than he can handle. I’ll make it worth his while.”

“The cemetery guy?” Bobby questioned doubt clear in his voice.

Jax nodded his head sure of his plan. “Yeah, I give Lodi a front-page murder and we don’t stir up another shit-storm that might bite us in the ass.”

He cringed the second the words left his lips. There was only one issue that might screw up the plan. Skeeter the Sons connection to access to Charming’s nearest crematorium and one of its oldest funeral homes wasn’t in town at the moment. 

“Shit.” the statement left him.

Tig groaned, not entirely thrilled that the plan was being shifted away from his original idea or just straight up murdering some Nord or some other scumbag. “What?”

Jax cringed again, hating to admit that there was a wrench in the plan. “I just remembered, Skeeter’s not in town.”

Tig stood up again ready to jump into action on the original plan. “Alright, that settles it. We stick to my plan.”

Jax spoke again, raising his voice as another solution entered his mind. “Y/N.”

Clay furrowed his brow, the name somewhat familiar though it had been years. “She's back in town?”

Jax ran a hand through his hair, a sigh leaving him. “Yeah, she’s taken over the family business apparently. She’s back. Been back for a few months now.”

Chibs frowned totally lost on just who this Y/N was that everyone but him seemed so familiar with.

He continued to follow the conversation, his interests peaking further as Jax spoke again. “I don’t know…she’s cleaned up her act apparently. She’s worth a shot though. She’s got enough history with the club. I don’t think she’s cleaned up enough to go running her mouth if we approach her with this.”

Clay shook his head at this news not missing a chance to push back against the idea that she’d be totally useless to them. “Money talks, clean act or not. You make contact with her, get this plan on the road. Who knows, she might come in handy in the future, if she’s down to accept our gifts in exchange for a few favors. Might be smart to have a funeral director readily available. Who knows just what she has access to. From what I’ve heard her father left some debt behind and we all know her brother is off in the county nuthouse. She might be willing to play ball if we offer her some incentive to chip away at that debt.”

Chibs furrowed his brow all the further having to wonder just who this Y/N character was aside from a funeral director that his brothers all seemed to have some familiarity with. 

Chibs had been patched over in Charming for about a decade now, surely he would remember some funeral director that had some sort of wild streak that his brothers all seemed to remember? 

He mulled over the thought as the club proceeded to discuss their plans. 

He wasn’t the only one mulling over the change in plan. Jax felt his stomach twist uncertain if Y/N would be as willing to help out debt or not.

He’d heard the gossip around town and it all seemed to indicate that little miss Y/N had turned over a new leaf and had really matured from the twenty year old girl who’d been sent away by her father years before. 

Jax rubbed the back of his neck, his stomach churning at the path that lay ahead of them. 

Y/N Y/L/N was no Skeeter, but she would work in a bind.

He just hoped she was not as on the straightened arrow as it appeared.

—---------------------------------------------------

The cemetery in Charming was actually quite massive despite the smaller town. Generations upon generations had been buried on the land. On the property sat a crematorium that was used by the few funeral homes in Charming as well as a chapel where services might be held.

One of the funeral homes that often used the on sight crematorium was Y/L/N and Sons Funeral Home.

Ironically enough, there weren’t any sons in the business…at least not anymore.

Y/N Y/L/N had taken up the mantle of her father’s business. The funeral business was something she’d fought against for so long. 

She had resented it in a way. She resented being known as the creepy kid in school because her father buried the dead. She resented the expectation that she would follow in her father’s business once her brother had clearly proven he just wasn’t stable enough. She’d resented the fact that even though she was expected to follow this path that the And Sons part of the name wouldn’t be dropped.

She had rebelled and she’d rebelled hard. Charming’s local MC had given her an environment to indulge in that rebellion. She had used the environment to cope with her personal issues and heartbreaks. She’d barely been legal the first time she’d visited the Sons clubhouse and during each visit after that she’d allowed herself to fall into the chaos of a Friday night party.

A few years of her life had been dedicated to that chaos until she’d hit rock bottom. Drinking and associating with Charming’s criminal element had been fun, until it had not been so much fun.

Her father had given her an out and she’d taken in traveling east to start anew. She’d tried to find a life outside of death, but she’d found within a few years that she did have a genuine respect for the family business.

It was all she’d ever known and she’d decided to follow her father’s footsteps on her own terms. She’d enrolled in mortuary school out east and had found work upon gaining her license.

She’d assumed she’d finally escaped both Charming and her past.

The past had a way of biting you in the ass though. She’d learned that the hard way.

The family business had been left to her and though she wanted nothing more than to remain out east she’d realized that the family business wasn’t the only thing she’d inherited from her father.

Debts and her brother were now her responsibility. So, Y/N had traveled back west, back to Charming.

She should have known the MC would come knocking eventually. Her past associates would eventually realize she was back in town.

So, it should have been no shock with the crematorium doors swung open at least one familiar face walking in the door.

She turned from the cremains she’d been sifting through the thick rubber gloves she wore making her hands feel damp with sweat.

Chibs Telford wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but the pretty young woman standing by a flaming cremator wasn’t at all what he’d pictured when he heard the words funeral director.

She was not dressed all in black the way he’d been picturing. To be honest he’d imagined some stuck up and possibly even creepy looking woman in a black pantsuit.

The pretty woman standing by the cremator was wearing dark wash blue jeans of all things and a black tank top. Her brow was somewhat damp with perspiration from the heat of the crematorium. Chibs took notice of the bead of sweat that traveled down her neck disappearing between the valley of ample cleavage the sight sending a jolt of lust through him. She had a nice figure; attractive curves that were complimented by the tight fit of her jeans. Her long hair was piled on top of her head fastened with a clip in an attempt to deal with the heat. He furrowed his brow as he spotted a pair of baby pink converse sneakers on her feet. 

She was less Morticia Adams than he’d been anticipating. She looked more like she should be hanging out at a farmers market or maybe having ice cream at one of the mom and pop parlors on Main Street. 

The pretty woman he’d been so unabashedly admiring finally spoke a sigh leaving her lips. She looking none too pleased by her guests. “Jackson.”

Chibs felt his heart lift the soft sweetness of her voice not what he'd been expecting at all even if she didn't sound happy.

“Hey, darlin, long time no see.” Jax replied always the flirt even when on business.

Chibs frowned a small part of him, somewhat certain he didn’t like the clear undertone of a history between his brother and this young woman. He pushed back the thought knowing it was ridiculous. 

Y/N sighed, shaking her head, her eyes studying the friends Jackson Teller had brought along. She didn’t recognize a single face other than Jax Teller’s. Though she guessed it shouldn’t be too much of a shock. She’d been away for so long.

She didn’t study her company for long, a sigh leaving her. “I’m assuming this isn’t a social call.”

Jax gave her a small sheepish smile. “Not entirely.”

“Skeeter’s not around, I’m afraid. He’s out of town, hopefully not at the racetrack.” She remarked a small frown crossing her features at the thought of her father’s associate.

Although she didn’t approve of Skeeter’s conduct at times, she knew he’d been a loyal employee to her father. He was now her loyal employee. She appreciated that loyalty despite his habits.

That loyalty hadn’t stopped him from associating with the Sons of course, but who was she to judge given her own past. 

“They really cremate bodies here?” Half Sack spoke getting close to the cremator gazing within the flames.

“Aye an sometimes we do.” Chibs spat out smacking the prospect in the back of the head before yanking him from the machinery.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, the thick Scottish brogue not entirely expected. She gazed at the owner of the accent unable to place him anywhere in her memories.

She knew her memories from that time in her life might be somewhat hazy, but she was sure she’d remember a Scottish accent in the middle of northern California.

She was certain she’d remember the man standing in front of her from the accent alone. She felt her stomach churn noticing the deep scars embedded into his cheeks. If she hadn’t remembered the accent then she definitely would have remembered the scars.

He gazed back at her his sunglasses dropping slightly, his dark eyes gazing at her, the action giving her an unexpected reaction.

She frowned, not entirely amused at the mixture of lust and curiosity that stirred up in her under his gaze.

She wasn’t that girl anymore, a voice in the back of her head scolded her. She’d grown up and changed. It had been almost ten years and she was a new person, a better person. She was no longer the biker groupie.

Jax stepped forward, breaking the spell that had seemed to wash over both Chibs and Y/N without anyone around them really taking notice. “We aren’t here to see Skeeter Darlin’. We gotta ask you a favor. I’m here to ask an old friend a small favor.”

“Favors are never small with you from what I remember. They also usually have a way of biting me right in the ass if my memory serves me right.” She replied, reluctant to pull her eyes from the Scotsman and back to her old friend.

Jax smirked, nodding his head. “Fair enough.”

He cleared his throat fast to speak again. “We need two bodies.”

“Jesus Christ, Jackson. Why are you coming to me with this? I’m not some club hangaround anymore. I’m trying to be a better person and you’re dragging me into this shit.” She snapped a groan leaving her as she took off her gloves slamming them down on the counter beside the cremains she’d previously been attending to.

Jax sighed, not entirely shocked by the reaction. He prayed he was right when he’d remarked that she wasn’t so on the straightened arrow that she wouldn’t go blabbing the information to the Charming P.D.

“I know it’s a lot to ask but…” He barely worked out before she spoke again.

“A lot to ask? You do realize when I got licensed I had to take several classes on the ethics of the funeral profession. I’m pretty sure handing out bodies to the local MC violates so many of those ethics I swore to uphold and is considered abuse of a corpse. You do realize I could lose everything if you fuck up and it leads back to me? You aren’t just asking me to let you borrow a freaking cup of sugar here, Jax.” 

Chibs twisted his lips somewhat amused by how browbeaten Jax seemed to look upon this outburst.

If the outburst had come from a less pretty woman, Chibs might feel frustration. After all, they were depending on this girl to help them out of an utter shit-storm.

A small part of him had to admire the balls she had to speak to a dangerous looking biker in that tone of voice. 

She was bold, bold and pretty were admirable traits in a woman. 

Jax reached in his kutte pocket pulling out a thick manilla envelope. “I know, I’m sorry. It’s a lot to ask, but we’re in a bind here. SAMCRO is willing to compensate you for taking the risk.”

He paused handing over the envelope feeling somewhat guilty to even bring it up. “I know your old man was struggling to keep things running towards the end. This could help alleviate some of the burdens he left behind.”

She gazed down at the envelope, part of her wanting to toss it right back in his face the other part of her wanting to toss in the cremator as a showing of just what she thought of his attempts to buy out her morals.

She cringed a the heft of the envelope her mind crossing over those burdens Jax was mentioning.

Business was steady, but her father hadn’t been in the best health towards the end. It hadn’t been easy to tackle some of the debt left behind even with steady business.

She also felt her mind flash to her older brother. Institutionalization was expensive, even on a state level.

She gazed within the envelope making up her mind knowing it might damn her soul. 

She shook her head, her jaw tight. “Two bodies?”

Jax nodded his head relieved that Clay had been right. Money talks. “Yeah, one white guy and a Mexican guy.”

She rolled her eyes, tempted to snap that this wasn’t a custom order shop and he’d get what he got and he’d be damn happy with it.

She gazed at the still flaming cremator. “I had a guy who died in a work accident….uh worked for the electric company. It’s a closed casket. He didn’t have enough of a family to give a shit and suddenly want an open casket at the last second. They’d barely even pay for me to do the embalming. Stop by the funeral home in a couple of hours and you can have him.”

She paused shifting in place, hating herself for doing any of this. “There’s a fresh burial, one of my guys just filled in the hole this morning…cheap casket. He should be fresh enough still, I’m a damn good embalmer…even with the cheap jobs.”

She gazed down at the envelope, a voice in the back of her head screaming she was completely soiling the profession she loved. She was scum. She’d been entrusted to care for these bodies and make sure they had a peaceful rest, and this was what she was doing.

She ran her thumb along the envelope, a louder voice claiming that the money would help.  The money would help ease the debt and help make sure her brother got the best care available.

Between the debt and her brother's care she was drowning.

She was at risk of losing a family business that had been there for generations. It was her legacy.

She knew she could sell the family business and pay some of those debts but that seemed like such a shameful thought. Then there was the issue of her brother. Daniel needed around the clock care and it got pricey. The money could help to keep providing that care.

Without the institution he'd be moved to being in an even worst institution as a practical ward of the state or worst kicked out of the hospital. She knew he wouldn't stay medicated on the streets and she couldn't take care of him. There was no way he could live with her in his condition. They'd gone down that road before. Her father couldn't care for Daniel and she sure as hell couldn't.

She knew she was betraying the dead by taking this money but a voice in the back of her head snapped that the dead didn't need money. She sure as hell needed the money. Selling her morals and ignoring her conscience was the one way out of tunnel of debts and uncertainty. This action would surely damn her to hell and she couldn't take a moral high ground that she was a better person now. 

It was damn hard to be the better person when you were stuck eating a diet of mostly ramen noodles and selling plasma just to barely scrape by. It was hard to be the good person when your brother needed yet another expensive medication to keep his symptoms under control. It was too hard to be the good person when you were so damn tired.

She knew she was going to hell for this, but she already felt like she was in hell half the time anyway with all the financial stress.

She sighed as Jax spoke, giving her a small grin. “Thanks Y/N. I know this is a big ask…”

“It is.” She interrupted a sigh leaving her.

She spoke again a grimace crossing her features knowing if she was damning her soul for this action she might as well fully commit. “From now on…you don’t go to Skeeter for favors. I’m your first contact.”

Chibs raised an eyebrow once again taken by the brass balls on the girl. He resisted the urge to smirk a little amused; she felt comfortable presenting this idea with as much of a fuss as she’d put up a second ago.

She spoke again, shaking her head. “You’re right, the money helps in more ways than one. I’m willing to do more favors in the future for a price…we both know I’m more reliable than Skeeter any day of the week.”

Jax grinned at the proposal. Maybe Clay had been right, having a funeral director in SAMCRO’s arsenal did hold the possibility of promise. “Of course, darlin’. You’ll be our first call. In fact we might need to borrow this crematorium later.”

“It’s done. Just call me. My number hasn’t changed.” She remarked that strange jealous feeling stirring up in Chibs’ gut again.

Her number hadn’t changed, a number Jax Teller apparently knew.

He didn’t have long to focus on the strange sense of jealousy or how it confused the hell out of him as the Sons turned to leave ready to leave and get this plan moving forward.

Chibs wasn’t pulled from his thoughts until Juice finally spoke, the man not having said anything this entire time. “I’m glad to be out of that place. It gives me the creeps.”

“Aye, the creeps.” Chibs remarked not able to focus on the environment they’d just been in the woman in that environment far more interesting. She was far from creepy.

To be honest Chibs Telford wasn't sure what to make of her. That concept puzzled him.

Juice watched as Jax sped up ahead of them before he spoke almost as though he could hear just what Chibs was thinking. “At least she’s not creepy as hell like Skeeter…I mean she's spooky given her job...but she is kind of hot…wonder what she meant by club hang around. She doesn't look like the average croweater...at least I don't get that vibe. Curious to know what that history is.”

Chibs frowned as that jealous little feeling stirred in him again. He shook it away a huff leaving him unable to stop himself from agreeing. “Aye…spooky.”

He paused shaking his head hating to admit that he was a little curious himself about just what the history surrounding Y/N was. 

#chibs telford #chibs sons of anarchy #chibs telford x reader #sons of anarchy fanfiction #chibs telford fanfiction #chibs telford fanfic

[mrsfilipchibstelford]

Soooo, this doesn't have a title and im not sure if I'm even going to finish it but here it is. All the appreciation and love to @darqchilddaydreamz for helping me with this

Chibs sat on the plane quietly and bit his lip. He glanced over to where Fiona and Kerrianne were and while he was happy to have them around and spend time with them again, especially his daughter, he was worried about Y/N's reaction. They had fought for weeks before he left for Ireland and he hadn't really talked to her while he was gone. She had no idea he was bringing them back with him and that his family were now going to be living in Charming. Y/N  was going to lose her fucking mind and he could only hope to be able to talk her down. She was highly insecure about the situation with Fiona and she also couldn't stand the woman for what she had done to Chibs years back. She wasn't one to forgive and forget.

"You ok sweetheart? You've been really quiet since we left." Gemma's voice drew him out of his thoughts and he threw a weak half smile at her.

"Aside from the fact that Y/N is probably gonna leave me? I'm fucking great," he sighed. The last thing he wanted was to lose her, but he had to make sure that his family was safe. And now thanks to that bastard O'Phelan, Ireland was no longer safe for them.

 Gemma nodded over to where his family was sitting.

"You think Fiona is gonna start shit?"

"I think Y/N is. We were barely on speaking terms before I went to Ireland and I am not looking forward to any of what's waiting for me when we get home."

"Maybe if you start with the fact that you're now divorced she'll be okay."

"I fucking doubt it. I'm pretty sure I'm about to lose the only good I have in my life. Don't get me wrong I love the club and my brothers and you too of course but Fiona's always had a special talent for ruining my life and if I lose Y/N…”, his voice trailed off. “I don't want to live without her Gemma."  

***********************

Y/N watched as everyone reunited, she was about to go to Chibs when she spotted Fiona and felt her heart drop. Y/N could feel his eyes on her as she turned towards the garage and walked away. It seemed pretty clear to her where her relationship with Chibs stood now that he had brought his wife and daughter back with him. She had found out while Chibs was in Ireland that she was pregnant and had planned to tell him when he got back but now she wasn't sure she should. She also wasn't about to stand there and listen to whatever excuses he had come up with on the plane ride home so she grabbed her bag from her brother's workstation and headed towards her car. She went to open the door when she felt it shut. Without looking, she knew it was Filip.

"Can we talk, love? I promise it isn't how it looks."

She shook her head and swallowed back her tears. "I don't wanna hear it."

"Y/N, let me explain before you do something we both regret. Please."

Chibs could feel the tears coming and it was getting difficult for him to breathe. He was on the verge of a full-blown panic attack and it didn't look like there was anything he could do about it. He knew her brother was watching them to see how it played out and he also knew that if Y/N began to cry, Tig wouldn't hesitate to start throwing punches.

"You don't need to explain anything. I'm not stupid so can I just go now?"

He thrust papers into her hands as soon as she turned around to face him.

"I'm divorced now, my love. Only reason they are here is because it's not safe for them to stay in Ireland anymore. Trust me darlin', Fi is just as pissed off about being here as you are. I know things between us haven't been good for a while but I love you more than anything. I don't want to live without you. I can't. You're the only good in my life aside from Kerrianne. Can we please just go back to how it was before? We could ride to Vegas and get married. Or do something here. Whatever you want."

"Getting married isn't going to solve our problems, Filip."

Chibs grabbed her hips and pulled her towards him and hugged her like it was the last time he'd be able to touch her. He buried his head in her hair and whispered that he was sorry.

"I'll fix whatever I have to. Just tell me what to do."

Y/N didn't really want to be in Charming anymore and she knew if he knew about her being pregnant he would never allow her to leave. But she also didn't want to keep him from their child, and especially after what had happened with Kerrianne.

"I want to go home. Clearly, I don't belong here anymore" she gestured towards his girls.

#filip telford #tommy flanagan #sons of anarchy #chibs telford #soa chibs #chibs telford imagine #chibs telford fanfic #chibs telford x reader

[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?” 

#chibs telford #Chibs Telford fanfiction #Chibs Telford smut #Chibs Telford fanfic #chibs telford fic #Chibs Telford drabble #chibs telford smut drabble #chibs telford x reader #chibs telford x you #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy fanfiction #sons of anarchy fanfic #sons of anarchy smut #sons of anarchy fic #soa #soa fanfiction #soa fanfic #soa fic #soa smut #tommy flanagan #tommy flanagan fanfiction #tommy flanagan smut #tommy flanagan x female reader #tommy flanagan x reader #tommy flanagan x you

[witchthewriter]

𝑴𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝑫𝒆𝒔𝒊𝒓𝒆   𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍.

Paid story for @yourwinchesterbros. Word Count: 3k Warnings: swears, talks of death, blood, talks of period blood in particular, someone being shot.

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ

(Red Right Hand by Arctic Monkeys)

JAX.

The night was heavy with the dread of oncoming death. But whose? That was still undecided.

Guns had been aimed, with triggers ready to be pulled. Even though the meeting was supposed to be weapon-free.

    “So much for reliability and transparency,” Jax uttered. His heart may have been pounding but with adrenaline over fear.

This meeting with a potential partner in Cara-Cara, was deemed somewhat reliable by Bobby. So, hell it was a surprise to find these gentlemen so gun happy. Bobby wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize the club. Both Sons knew that, so what the fuck was with these guys.

If it were truly up to Jax, he wouldn’t be looking for another partner, but with Nero desperate to pull out, he had no other choice but to look at other investors.

   And fuck, this guy wasn’t one to wait. This meeting was set for two weeks and now it was suddenly rushed to today.

  Oddly enough, everything had seemed to be alright, until the bald-headed Russian asshole took a joke too far. The girls at Cara-Cara were treated with respect. It was a non-negotiation. Women were constantly mistreated in Charming, Jax had seen it with his own eyes, hell, Gemma and Tara had been assaulted in the past. Jax never wanted that to happen, let alone in a company he owned.

  Chibs’ eyes flickered from his president to the exit, and Jax subtly shook his head. Like fuck he’d let Chibs risk himself. They looked at each other, truly looking and almost in silent communication Jax said, ‘we get out and we get out together.’

   Chibs’ jaw ticked.

  “So, boys. What’s it gonna be?” The Bossman with a shaved head said.

  “I think I’m gonna have to go with … go fuck yourself,” Jax said with a smile. He wanted to rile this fucker up. Was it the right move? Maybe…maybe not. But you never knew when a man would back down – over respect, intimidation, or approval.

ZO.

(Night Creeper by the Blackwater Fever)

You awoke with a knot in your stomach. One that you couldn’t get rid of. No matter what you did. Stretching, hot baths, hot water bottles, and then you saw the blood, and everything made sense.

   Of course, you were in your period, it sucked but it was also … a bit of a positive. You definitely weren’t ready to have children. Not now, not yet.

 As you boiled the kettle for what seemed like the hundredth time, you crouched down and rested your head against the kitchen bench, groaning.

     “Fuck, I feel like I’ve been shot,” you moaned, one hand holding your stomach, rubbing ever so gently. This month was one of the worser ones. Like a pattern, your body either gave you a light easier period or a heavier harder one.

   When your kettle finished boiling, you emptied your hot water bottle and filled it. A few drops missed the opening and landed on your hand.

    “Fuck!” You yelled, already irritated, and nearly gave up. But your stomach lurched again, and you pushed on. “Not fair,” you mumbled, and slumped to the couch, where a bunch of snacks lay ready for you. The tv was flicked on and laid down, curling onto your side.

 You looked at the clock and frowned, usually Jax would call around this time, but there were no notifications on your phone.

JAX.

The big-bellied boss laughed and lowered his guns. As he did so, all of his men followed. The dread was slowly starting to leak from the room. But all the doors and windows were pulled shut, so it was taking its time to leave.

  “I like him,” the man said. His Russian so thick it was comical.  

Winking at Chibs, who came to stand to Jax’s right, he angled his body between the most guns and his president.

The fat Russian continued to speak. A lot of bullshit tumbled from his mouth, but still, Jax and Chibs were on high alert. As they always were.

   That’s how the Sons of Anarchy had survived so long under Jax’s rule, never let your guard down. And never let the other guy see it still up.   

So, they lowered their guns too. But when Jax turned to leave, telling the Russian he would be in touch, the man knew he wasn't going to get the partnership.

And the Russian mobster wasn't used to being denied.

ZO.

(Done All Wrong by the Black Rebel Motorcycle Club)

The afternoon had gone by slowly, as the pain never left. You had already told Skeeter you weren’t coming in, and when he asked why, he was absolutely awkward about it. As if he didn’t have one of the gorier jobs. What was period blood compared to dead bodies?

  Getting up from the couch was difficult, but you did it. You wanted to take your pups for a walk before they had their dinner, and it got too dark.

  Their leashes were tucked in the same spot they always were, and whenever you went near that area, even without the intention of a walk, their tails would wag.

    “Yes, walkies!” You exclaimed, clipping their collars.

But as you walked, you could feel the blood moving with gravity. Only a short walk, you thought and looked down at your two large dogs, their faces full of pure delight.

  Opening and closing the front door, you turned around to lock it, when you felt the presence of someone behind you. Whipping around, you saw a face you really wish wasn’t there.

  Gemma Teller-Morrow, dressed in black jeans, a grey top that showed her chest scar and wearing big black high-heeled boots. Ones you were sure she slept in. You couldn’t envision her in anything else. Her black and blonde hair was perfectly curled and slightly brushed, giving it a voluminous affect. She was a beautiful woman. But intimidation practically leaked from her.

  Both your dogs moved to stand in front of you.

   “Ugh, hi,” you said with an awkward smile. You, on the opposite hand, were wearing the baggiest pants you could find and a jumper, with joggers (and mismatched socks). Hair greasy and pulled in a bun from your face, you felt vulnerable; practically naked, in front of her.

  With pinched lips, she said, “hi,” and the hands that were on her hips moved to cross in front of her.

   You wanted to ask what the fuck she was doing here, but absolutely did not.

“You know Jax is away?” Her voice was almost disinterested, as if she had been forced to be here. But no one was in the car you had located behind your own.

   The boys must be with Wendy then.

“Ugh yeah, I helped him pack.”

      “Hmm, well I haven’t ugh, heard from him.” Now you understood. She thought Jax was here for some reason. And she came looking for him.

   “Neither have I actually,” you said, shifting your weight to one leg. The sun was setting, creating a slowly drifting picture of purple, pink, orange and yellow across the sky.

   “Huh,” she said, moving her hands into her back pockets and clucking her tongue, “thought he might be here.”

  Ding ding, fucking ding. As if you would be that irresponsible – or Jax for that matter. You two were grown-ups and knew how to act. Why was this lady running after her grown-ass son?

  You were doing all you could not to let your thoughts show on your face, so you shifted again. And thankfully, one of your pups whined; easing the tension.

    “Right, you taking ‘em on a walk?” Gemma said, in your mind you instantly replied with ‘fucking duh,’ but only nodded.

  “Mind if I join you?”

JAX.

(Dad's Gonna Kill Me by Richard Thompson)

Getting shot isn't the same feeling for everyone.

Jax hadn't fully felt the bullet in his right hip; he thought it had only grazed the bone.

The gunfire didn’t cease, however, and revealing his wound to Chibs wasn’t going to help. Jax wasn’t sure if the bullet was still inside his body, but thoughts like that weren't helpful right now. All he could focus on was getting the both of them out.

Holed up against the side of the bar, there was barely enough coverage for one man.

   Yelling, “cover meh!” The Scotsman knocked over a few of the bar’s table and chairs. Creating a sort of barricade.

  Even shot, Jax was a great aim. Taking out an arm with each bullet, gave Chibs more time to create their defence.

In a heated moment, Chibs picked up one of the cheap stools and threw it across the room. It landed with a loud smash, as once a glass table now lay in a million pieces.

   “WHAT IS WITH THESE MOTHERFUCKERS!” The fat Russian yelled, his face red, bleating. His blood pressure monitor started beeping; his wife made him go to the doctors to get his weight under control. And that gave the mobster a 24/7 monitor to wear underneath his clothes.

  For a beat the gunshots stopped as the beeping sounded, and the hired guns stopped to check on their boss. He had been fine, and then he watched as the Sons got up and ran.

    And then the Russian stopped being able to breathe. 

Bursting out the door and into the bright daylight, the two men covered their faces and ran toward their bikes, Jax leaving a trail of blood in his wake.

   “Almost free Jackie boy,” Chibs said as he got out his keys.

Doing the same, the blonde Son was about to shove the keys in the ignition when they fell out of his wet, red hand.

    “Fuck,” Jax growled as he bent down, but as he did so, he saw six pairs of black boots coming from the same door they ran from.

   “Jackie, what-“ And then Chibs saw the soaked through shirt, the blood on Jax’s hands and the paleness in his face.

 “FUCK,” he yelled, grabbing onto both sets of keys and jumping behind Jax. Chibs would sacrifice his bike for his president any day. And today was that goddamn day.

     The group of men were nearly upon them, as Chibs fiddled with the keys.

“Fucking put them in,” Jax said with a slight slur. Maybe it was just a bone graze… Jax was thinking and thinking and reached out a hand to touch his side and screamed.

  Punctured.

The word rung in his mind before he could even process it.

   And all the while Chibs had finally turned on the engine and revved. Leaving the men behind in a wall of dust.

   “I got you Jackie, I got you-“ Chib’s voice was barely audible over the sound of the engine. But Jax heard it nonetheless. He always would be with Chibs. But maybe this was something that no one who loved him could save him from.  

ZO.

How could you say no? You couldn’t. That’s why you were now walking side by side with Gemma, your dogs looking behind you every few seconds, keeping an eye on the ‘threat.’

   If you were supposed to say something first, then you had no idea. Your lips were clamped shut, your mind an untuned tv; fuzzy and loud.

You had walked to the end of your block in silence, until Gemma asked, “do you love him?”

   Stunned. You almost choked on your intake of air. It was a miracle that you hadn't tripped over your own feet.

How could you tell her before telling Jax? It felt like a betrayal in a way.

  “Of course, I do.”

The words left your mouth before any other thought could appear.

   The steady crunch of Gemma’s boots on the sidewalk gravel was the only noise for about a minute. Then she said, “you know he had a wife-“

“I know his backstory,” you cut in. Doing your best not to roll your eyes. Was she this far behind? This out of the loop? Should you be insulted or grateful that Jax wasn’t telling his mother about his relationship?

CHIBS.

(You're Not God by Anna Calvi)

The road was long ahead of them, the dirt and rubble kicking up where the wheel’s trekked. There wasn’t a moment for pause, not one second to spare so Chibs could look over his shoulder. Jax was nearly limp in his arms; slumped against him, barely able to keep his balance.

   They hadn’t been gone long, but soon the club would be worried if they didn’t hear anything soon. And Chibs knew Zo, Jax’s Old Lady, would be hanging on, waiting for the phone to ring. Chibs always noticed things like that. Things that the others didn’t.

Men were terrible at keeping in touch with each other, it was the women in their lives that they checked in with. Most men found it overbearing, but really they should be grateful. It made them think, kept them moving and ultimately kept them alive.

   That’s how Chibs felt about the other Old Ladies as well. Especially Tara, who had a lot on her plate, and needed to know if Jax was okay. When he was coming home. It wasn’t the only reason why Chibs would leap in front of a bullet for a brother. Whoever was in this club, was his family. That’s why he would give his life for theirs. Especially when they had more to lose than he.

  No one knew, but he felt like his life wasn’t as important as the others, whose family (or ex-family) was still close to them. The woman he loved and the only daughter he had were on the other side of the world. If he died, it wouldn’t change anything for them.

    And he could be replaced. Easily in the club.

But he’d never say that out loud.

So, like every day, Chibs pushed on, knowing his president’s life depended on him. On his next move.

GEMMA.

(Fight Like Gods by Chelsea Wolfe)

   Gemma was worried to say the least. She hadn’t heard from Jax in a while, and she thought he was over at your place, forgetting his responsibilities.

  The whole ride over to your house, Gemma’s car had been silent except for her constant monologue. (She never used her radio - the presenters were complete morons in her opinion).

   “I’m going to rip her ear’s from her head if he’s there,” her violent promises falling on no ears but her own. Her white-knuckled hands gripped the steering wheel so hard she couldn’t feel them when she pulled up.

   There was a moment where she debated bumping the back of your car, just giving it a little dent. But she was thankful she didn’t when she saw you come out with your dogs.

   Gemma knew Jax wouldn’t be at your place if you were taking your dogs on a walk, especially with a shirt that had a massive stain in it. But she asked you, nonetheless, to see what your face looked like when it was telling the truth.

   Talking over coffee in a café wasn’t really Gemma’s ‘thing,’ she was used to randomly pulling up to people’s houses unannounced. It made it harder for them to turn her away. So, Gemma knew good and well that it was a bit rude to intrude on your dog walk, knowing you wouldn’t – or couldn’t – say no.

   And when she asked if you loved Jax, your face didn’t change; she knew you were telling the truth.

But every so often she could see your face screw up, not knowing that it was the cramps. Well, not until she saw the blood on the back of your pants.

ZO.

(Oui Oui Marie by Chelsea Wolfe - slow + reverb)

 Everything was fine.

Even though you were sweating, your stomach hurt and you felt like your head was going to explode. There was a moment after Gemma said something, that she stopped and grabbed ahold of your arm. Halting you, and your dogs, suddenly, Gemma said it was time to go home.

   Frowning, you gave her an incredulous look, and with nothing for her to give you to cover it up, she thought it was best not to alert you. But damn your stubbornness. You weren’t going to be told what to do.

   “We’re not finished with our walk,” you said, or rather, snapped. Another cramp squeezing your uterus; making your thighs ache and stomach lurch.

“Oh you definitely are,” Gemma said, starting to turn around, expecting you to follow.

    “They aren’t tired yet,” you reasoned, a hand on your hip. Completely unaware that your grey sweatpants were reddening.

  “Just shut up and listen, you’re leaking,” Gemma retorted, the kindness fleeing her instantaneously.

“Well fuck!” You said, trying to turn around and see.

‘Oh’ was all you said as you followed her home.

JAX.

  The Prince of Charming, also known as the Prince of Death, did not receive his latter title because of all the deaths he had endured, but the ones he had ensured.

    This life had promised violence. It had promised death, and he had stayed the course. Even if he tried to leave with Tara and the boys at one point.

  It was death that made him stay in this particular way of life.

And it would be this way of life that caused his death.

  That very thought swirled around Jax’s mind. It was so ironic that he actually found it somewhat humorous. Death and life, life and death. The two always interconnected.

  “Stay with me Jackie boy!” Chibs roared over the rumble of the motorcycle.

The sunset was a reprieve from the jostling of the bike. With each mile gained, less consciousness Jax retained. And he soon found out that not being able to use his core to sit straight, made riding a whole lot less enjoyable.

   All he could think about was the people he loved. His boys, Zo, his mother, and his brothers. What his death would bring. How much grieving there would be; it made him sick to think about it. Or maybe it was the bullet lodged in his side that was making him feel ill.

    A thumping began in his temple, a headache that drained his energy. It must be the adrenaline wearing off, he thought.  

 The bike continued to tear down the road and Jax could feel himself bleeding. He didn’t know if he was bleeding out, or just … casually bleeding.

Not daring to look; in case he fell off the bike and threw Chibs off with him. Jax knew that at this speed, it would end up killing them both. He stayed still. Trying his best to keep his breathing steady and his eyes open.

  And yet, Jax had no idea where Chibs was going or what the Scotsman was doing, only that he trusted him. And that trust was either going to kill him or save him.

#memories of desire #jax teller #jax x zo #jax x zoe #jax teller fanfic #jax teller paid fanfic #paid fanfics #commissions #witchthewriter #witch the writer's stories #witch the writer's paid stories #sons of anarchy #soa #soa fanfic #sons of anarchy fanfiction #tig trager #chibs telford #chibs telford fanfic #juice ortiz #happy lowman #memories of desire fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #commission #commisions open #paid story

[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.”

#chibs telford #fic #sons of anarchy imagine #soa #soa imagine #chibs telford x reader #chibs telford x you #chibs telford fanfic #filip telford #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc #sons of anarchy

[tumbleweedstillhaspanic]

I actually updated it again with yet another chapter!!

#chibs telford #sons of anarchy #fanfiction #chibs telford fanfic #sons of anarchy fanfic #sons of anarchy fan fiction

[telfordelle]

Through The Valley - Part 2

Part 1

Characters: Filip “Chibs” Telford x OC

A/N: It's been 84 years. Finally managed to write a part two for this. Chibs and the main character meet and have to find a way out of the city.

Words: ~2.2k

"Aye, lass, ye almost got me," a rough voice with a thick accent said, chuckling.

With all her might she tried to escape from him. The stranger had pinned her arms to her sides and pressed her body against his chest. "If you calm down, I'll let ye go," he assured her. Why should she trust him? On the other hand, what other option did she have? After all, she could not escape his grasp. She took a deep breath and exhaled the air with a big sigh, nodding. The man reduced the strength of his grip. "Alright, I'll let go of ye now, just don' attack me." She nodded in affirmation. At this, the stranger let go of her, and she was finally able to take a step back and look at him.

She gave the stranger a quick once-over. Albeit oozing an aura of danger, the man appeared to be ruggedly handsome. His hair and beard were streaked with grey. Probably the most striking feature was the scars that ran across his cheeks. Snap out of it, she thought, chastising herself. Embarrassed, she coughed slightly. She had to be careful. Meeting a stranger in this world backfired 80 per cent of the time. Still, she decided that an apology would be appropriate. "Uhm, I'm sorry, I didn't want to attack you. I thought you were one of those infected fuckers," she apologized. He just shrugged. "I'm not dead, am I? So, no problem." “Nah, you don’t look dead to me,” she admitted with a soft chuckle.

"So now that that's settled, what's yer name, lass?" he asked. "Name's Brooke, but you can also call me Rook," she answered. "And yours?" "Just call me Chibs," he said. She raised her eyebrows but did not comment on the name, even though it was more than strange. Nicknames were fine in this world. For all she cared, people could also refer to themselves as President of whatever was left of the fungus-infested United States. She didn't care - as long as they didn't have a foul attitude about their self-given status. “Why are you out here alone?” Rook wanted to know. “Well, I could ask ye the same. My group heard about a safe place not that far from here, at least not by bike. We were separated when some smugglers attacked us. Assholes took my bike, been on foot since then.” He didn’t seem to be lying. Nevertheless, she couldn’t be sure if his group wasn’t hiding somewhere, ready for an ambush. She had nothing of value on her but in this world, it was enough to be a woman. Who was she kidding, even before the outbreak that had sometimes been enough.

“Sorry to hear that. What’s the name of that settlement you’re heading to?” she questioned him. “I just know that there is supposed to be a settlement near Lake Tahoe. We heard that the guys over there are welcoming, so we figured to just see and try it out, ye know?” Chibs said and shrugged. She pondered. Should she tell him that they were probably her people? So far, he didn't seem to have anything bad in mind, she could kill him later if necessary. And if what he said was true, then his group was already en route anyway. With a sigh, Rook answered: “Your group was most likely talking about our settlement in Tahoma. We managed to fortify parts of the place and so far, we haven’t had any breaches.” “So, that means yer heading there, too?” he asked. She just nodded. She was still wary, but she figured that having him tagging along was better than being completely alone. “You can come with me,” she said, then added, “if you want, that is.” To no surprise, he agreed.

“What’s yer plan?” – “I wanted to get to Waterloo first,” she explained. “It should take us about three hours if we tag along the highway.” She grabbed the map from her backpack and pointed at the small village that was located on the outskirts of Stockton. “Most of the time, highways aren’t such a good idea,” he remarked. Rook agreed. Still, it was the fastest way to get to Waterloo and she wasn’t keen on spending the night too close to Stockton. She figured that Chibs felt the same way and explained her motives. “Well, we can at least have a go at it, I guess. But as soon as it gets too bad out there, wilderness it is,” he reasoned. Rook nodded and they began to make their way out of Stockton.

They walked together in silence, neither of them really knowing what they should say. Rook was not yet sure if that made her uncomfortable or not. A little bit, maybe. Chibs was walking in front of her, which allowed her to observe him.  He was older than her, probably about fifteen years. The grey in his hair suited him. Why the hell was she thinking about that? This clearly wasn’t the place or the time. She quickened her pace so that she caught up with him. That way, she could at least no longer stare directly at him. After a while, as they made their way past an old Denny’s parking lot, she had to grin thinking of the meme. The good old times, God, how she missed them.

“What are ye thinking about?” he asked. “Nah, just some old meme. You remember those?” He just looked at her in confusion. “Sorry, lass. I don’t know what ye talkin’ about.” She thought about explaining it to him but then waved it off. “It was just some dumb internet culture thing,” she said. „I’ve never really bothered with that,” he admitted. Laughing, she noted that he probably wasn't part of the internet meme generation. “Hey!” he exclaimed, playfully indignant, “I’m not that old.” – “Yeah? How old are you then, old man?” Rook mocked him. “Forty-seven, thank you very much. And how old are ye? Thirteen?” Chibs teased her with a smug smile. “Yeah, more like thirteen going on thirty. Or almost thirty, twenty-nine to be exact,” she countered. So, they weren’t fifteen years apart but nineteen.

“So you were in your early thirties when the outbreak started, huh?” she concluded. Chibs nodded, “Yeah, that’s right.” – “I was fourteen. It really sucked to be thrown into some ‘survival horror game’-like shit. But hey, so far, I’ve made it.”  A sad smile crossed her face. There were so many people who she had lost. And in the early days of the outbreak… her family… no, she didn’t want to think about it. Also, she certainly didn't want to talk about it with a stranger. Chibs realised that the time of the outbreak was something she did not want to go into. “Kind of weird that we haven’t seen any infected,” he diverted from the previous topic. “Well, mostly I meet them in buildings, somehow they gather there,” she shared her experience. “Of course, I’ve also met them on the streets, but not as many as in buildings.” He agreed: “Yeah, some of the worst encounters that I’ve had with them took place in former grocery stores. And basements. Basements and tunnels in general are no-go areas.” She shuddered, remembering the hospital’s basement. “Guess we’ll finally come across some soon,” she said while gesturing towards the highway in front of them. “Are ye still sure you want to go that way?” he asked her. Rook only nodded. It was the fastest way. She didn’t want to spend the night in Stockton – but she also didn’t want to spend it under the open sky. They had to reach Waterloo, preferably before dark.

Even so, most of the time highways were absolute death traps. Especially when they were leading away from a large city. During the outbreak, most people had wanted to escape the big cities. Collisions occurred, sometimes resulting in total deadlock. Many early infections happened after people got stuck in traffic or had gotten into accidents. Runners caught up to them and those who weren’t able to escape either died or got infected themselves. Nowadays, it wasn’t uncommon to come across various infected on the highways, with the runners being the had been infected recently.If runners hadn’t encountered a non-infected person for a while, they went into a kind of passive state. Rook shuddered, thinking about those runners which stood in a hunched position when motionless or just walking around passively with sluggish moves. Chibs and she were likely to encounter some stragglers on the highway. Not only runners, but probably also some clickers.

The first part of the route on the highway was unproblematic. They only encountered a few infected people from time to time, but they were able to sneak past them effortlessly. Sometimes they used objects lying around to distract the clickers. Most of the runners were in their peculiar passive state; these were the easiest to avoid. And then came the bridge. There were several clickers and runners on the bridge, more than they had encountered on the whole of their previous journey on the highway. “Should we try to get down from here or do ye want to try going over the bridge?” Chibs asked her. She looked around. Below them was a road, from both sides of the highway there was a very steep descent to it. Because they were two, it was probably easier to deal with the runners and clickers than to get injured on the way down. They made it past a group of runners and Rook managed to silently shiv one of the clickers from behind.

Suddenly, there was a deep and loud roar. She would always recognise that sound. Fuck, now they had a serious problem. They would probably have managed to defend themselves against the remaining runners and clickers, but something much more terrible was waiting for them at the other end of the bridge. A bloater. Those things were nasty as fuck. So far, she had only encountered one. At that time, she barely escaped with her life. Others in her group hadn’t been that lucky. The images of that day were still haunting her. Bloaters were able to lift up a human by their neck and smash in their skull with just one blow. While clickers could at least be killed with a shiv or switchblade, bloaters were covered in thick fungus that effectively acted as armour. Their guns and her bow were not enough, not in the slightest. They had to get out of here, immediately.

Luckily, the fucker wasn’t able to see anything due to the thick fungus plates. Like the clickers, it located its prey through echolocation. She nodded in the direction of the bloater, indicating to Chibs that they had to get out of here. Her thoughts raced while they sneakily making their way further up the bridge. Would they be able to make it past the bloater unnoticed? Going back was not an option: They probably would have made it past the clickers again, but the bloater was moving towards them faster than they could have sneaked past. What should they do? If there had been a river under the bridge, they might have been able to jump, but… “Boot,” Chibs whispered and interrupted her panicked stream of thoughts. Confused, Rook managed to tear away her gaze from the bloater and looked at Chibs. “We have to look for an open car boot,” he explained. He seemed to mean a trunk. Fucking Brits and their strange words. But this wasn’t the time to get irritated about it.

She gave him a thumbs up and made her way to the next car and tried to open its trunk – but to no avail. Okay, next one then. While they looked for an open car trunk, they came closer and closer to the bloater. Shit, shit, shit, she thought. They had to hurry. Bloaters might have been blind, but they sure as hell were aggressive as fuck. They wouldn’t be able to sneak past it, not here. Beads of sweat ran down her forehead, she became increasingly nervous. Why did all those people lock their fucking cars during the outbreak? She just managed to stop herself from kicking one of the cars and making too much noise. Fortunately, Chibs was luckier than here. “Over here,” he said in a hushed tone and motioned to one of the cars beside him. Rook went over to him and looked at the trunk. It should be big enough for the two of them. She got in first, Chibs went after her. He tied a piece of cloth around the locking mechanism so that they could not be locked in. After that, he pulled the lid closed behind him, leaving only a tiny gap open. They were in almost complete darkness. The roaring sound of the bloater drew nearer. Trapped in a cage of their own choosing they now had to wait and hope that the thing would pass them by.

//

Tags: @evyiione

#chibs telford x oc #chibs telford #chibs telford fanfic #sons of anarchy au #sons of anarchy #soa #chibs

[ravencrow83]

Again I own nothing *pouty face*

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Hey Little Girl Is Your Daddy Home?

Did He Go And Leave You All Alone?

I Got A Bad Desire

Oh, Oh, Oh, I’m On Fire

…..Bruce Springsteen (I’m On Fire)

Chapter 2

“Earn your kutte prospect! Hit’em yeh little shite!”

Chibs was stomping up and down on the corner of the boxing ring, his voice barely audible over the screams from the crowd around him. Half sacks opponent had already been the first to draw blood and the prospect was beginning to throw lazy punches. Amid the sweat, blood and adrenaline, he found his eyes drifting over to Ra coming out from the clubhouse. Her footing was a little unsteady and her cheeks looked flushed. She maneuvered sloppily through the restless natives, a beer bottle dangling loosely from her hand. 

Lightweight 

He shook his head dismissively and went back to the fight. Hopefully one of his brothers was remotely sober enough to keep an eye on her. Her father’s chop shop business getting busted had taken quite a chunk of money away from the club and the garage and he had money riding on this fight. He couldn’t afford distraction. Still, call it devotion to the club or morbid curiosity, he couldn’t stop his eyes from wondering to find her. 

Ra’s head felt fuzzy. Good fuzzy. The kind of fuzzy that distorted her rational thoughts and it felt good to lose the unwanted clarity. The vibration from the motorcycles coming in and out of the lot and the screams from the fired up bikers provided the perfect white noise. She circled the ring,  her brows drawing tighter as she tried to concentrate on the fight. The skirmish, no matter how animated, looked as if it were playing out in slow motion Perhaps she had drank more than she thought. 

“Pretty awesome right?”

She nearly lost her footing when an overly enthusiastic Juice snuck up behind her and slapped her on the back. Had the liquor not been doing its job she was sure the gesture would have bordered on painful “Ya..Yeah. Pretty awesome” She was beginning to slur, but figured Juice wouldn’t have noticed over the noise around them “This an every night kinda thing?”

“God I wish” Juice paused to throw his hands up in the air as the crowd broke in to a mixture of boos and excited cheers when one of the men fighting hit the mat “Now the parties..those are a whole other story.” He grinned wickedly. 

Ra smiled and nodded. How she was ever going to get sleep in this place was beyond her. Through the haze of people she could see the Scotsman staring down at her from the corner of the boxing ring. She looked away quickly hoping he wasn’t gauging her sobriety considering he was the one that had initiated the drinking to begin with. “Come on” She grabbed Juice by the arm and started pushing passed people to head towards the clubhouse “I need another drink.”

The moment they entered she wanted to turn around and walk back out, feeling as if she had just walked in on some very private party. There were girls on poles wearing nothing but thin lace thongs and men drinking and watching intensely through blood shot eyes. The darkest corner of the room was a blur of skin and moans of pleasure and Ra found herself blushing uncontrollably. Juice wasn’t phased by any of it. He didn’t even spare a second glance as he reached over and grabbed two shots and two beers off the bar. He followed her gaze to where her attention was occupied and saw Tig with a croweater between his legs, his head resting back on the couch.

“Hope you’re not squeamish” He tapped her arm with the glass of whiskey and regained her wondering eyes “We’re not fans of censorship when it comes to..well…anything.”

“Obviously” Ra slurred, downing her shot in one gulp and chasing it with her beer “Didn’t think you guys were a roaming pack of Catholic priests or anything.”

“Oiy! Juicy boy! The prospect pulled it off!” Chibs came up from behind Juice and handed him what looked like a wad of hundred dollar bills “I think tha’ deserves a bit of celebratin’” he motioned for the bartender who dropped what she was doing to quickly shuffle over to them. The blonde leaned over the bar and giggled when Chibs brushed the hair back behind her ear and whispered something only the two of them could hear. When she came back she had a bottle of Patron in her hand and a wide smile on her face. 

“Piney’s secret stash eh?” Juice checked the bottle the way a sommelier would check a vintage of wine.

“Ahhh. Fuck‘em. Ol’man don’t do ’nothin but drink. It’s a celebration! Chibs grabbed the bottle and began pouring, stopping when he got to Ra’s empty shot glass “Yeh do tequila there girl or yeh already off yeh face?”

Ra eyed the bottle and openly winced. Last time she did tequila was the night she had gotten arrested for disorderly conduct and kicked out the window of a cop car. However, that was during a time in her life she was actually happy. How could having a couple shots now be any worse than that? She tapped her glass with the tip of her nail and smiled at the Scotsman arrogantly “I’m not oot my face” She mocked “And I can handle anything you throw at me Scotty.” 

Chibs poured a shot into her empty glass and winked “Yeh shouldn’t tempt me with such an offer lass.” 

The next couple hours were a jumbled blur of liquor and loud music. She could remember bad jokes, friendly insults, and laughing. For the first time in a long time, she could remember laughing. It was probably the best time Ra had had in a long time and judging by the way her head swam and her body swayed, it was a shame she probably wasn’t going to remember it in the morning. Ra pulled her forehead off the bar and stubbed out her umpteenth cigarette. 

 “I think I have to go to bed.” 

She hadn’t been speaking to anyone in particular and the longer the night had gone on the more people had been dropping out to partake in other activities. Those activities were going on in plain sight behind her. The music had died down to a whisperer and was replaced with the sounds of random couples mid coitis. Ra slid off the bar stool and quickly caught herself as her legs wobbled unstably.

“Whoa. Whoa. Whoa. I gotcha girl.” A pair of arms wrapped around her and Ra’s hands clamped down on leather clad shoulders. Her head lolled back till she was looking up at a pair of hooded brown eyes. Chibs smiled back at her, all the booze seeming to have no effect on him whatsoever “We’re gonna have ta getcha’ tolerance up if yeh gonna be hangin’ round with the boys.”

Ra scrunched her face up “I have tol..toleran..” She giggled as she tried to form the words, but her tongue felt suddenly numb

“Sure yeh do darlin‘. Sure yeh do.”

Chibs threw her arm over his shoulder and wrapped his around her waist while trying to move her down the hall to her room. Ra’s feet dragged lazily on the floor and her head rocked side to side as they walked. The room was spinning now and her stomach flip flopped relentlessly. He opened the door and hit the light switch causing her to moan in annoyance. 

“Too bright”  She groaned, covering her eyes. 

“Okay. Hold yeh horses drunky” Chibs turned the light off and released his grip on her waist to turn on the light in the bathroom and crack the door, leaving a sliver of light through the room “Better?”

“Mmmm” she hummed.

“Figured yeh be needin’ to know where the bathroom is pretty soon.”

Had her body not been weighed down with alcohol, Ra would have attempted a scowl. Instead, she swayed back and forth in the middle of the room. Chibs couldn’t help the smile threatening to spread across his face as he watched her struggle to find the end of the bed. She sat down hard, her head bouncing on impact before her back hit the mattress. Her legs still dangled off the end of the bed and she gave an annoyed grunt that echoed through the room. Chibs glanced towards the door in the hopes that the rest of the guys were too wrapped up in Croweaters to hear her and think his intentions had been anything but noble. Then again, he himself had been questioning his intentions all night. He couldn’t blame it on the booze. She was beautiful, witty and even if all her drinking had caused her present situation, she had lasted longer drinking with the guys than a lot of other women had. Clays words repeated in his head. She was a job. A payoff. A bargaining chip to be played if they needed it. Nothing more. He shook away the thoughts and walked over to the bed. 

“Alright Girl. Let’s get yeh all tucked in.”

He wrapped an arm around her waist again and pulled her up towards the pillow, making her whine again in irritation. Ra rolled over on her side and curled up while Chibs pulled to get the covers out from under her. 

“How did you get those scars?”

His hands went idle for a moment before he scoffed and flipped the sheet over her “I got them a long time ago.” 

“That’s not an answer” She muttered. 

“Aye. It’s also no’ a good story ta tell a little girl before she goes ta bed.” He teased “Now, get some sleep.” Chibs checked his handy work. It had been a long time since he tucked someone in to bed. Satisfied, he turned to walk out of the room when he heard her stir again. 

“I think you’re still sexy.”

He froze in his steps, one foot still held out in front of him when he glanced over his shoulder at the woman laying in the bed. Her small frame was a mere bump under the covers, eyes shut tightly and pink lips parted while releasing steady breaths. He chuckled, shaking his head as he continued down the hall.

“Aye. Yeh ain’t so bad yourself girl.”

XXXXXXXXXX

The moment her head lifted off the pillow, Ra’s stomach immediately rebelled with itself and she barely made it into the bathroom before emptying it’s contents. She fell back against the wall while she tried to catch her breath. The taste and smell of liquor made her stomach lurch painfully. She rested her head back against the peeling wallpaper, clicking her tongue off the roof of her mouth with a shudder. The overpowering flavor of tobacco in her mouth and the heaviness in her chest were reminders of why she had stopped smoking to begin with. “Never. Drinking. Again.” She mumbled another string of curses under her breath while trying to piece last night together. No memory played all the way through. Everything was choppy and distorted. Getting up on her hands and knees, she crawled on the tiled floor to the shower and turned the knob. Maybe cold water would jog her memory. Her hands gripped the sink as she pulled herself up unsteadily and looked in the mirror. Her make up was smeared down her face and she was still in her clothes from the night before. That was at least a good sign. She undressed and climbed into the tub, sitting down on the narrow back ledge while letting the lukewarm water cover her. 

“Fuckin’ tequila” She whispered out loud. 

Ra exited the bathroom in a towel and tossed one of her bags on the bed. She pulled out a pair of torn up jeans and a gray form fitting shirt. She thought if she was going to have to show up in the garage in this condition, she might as well obey Gemma’s bullshit appointed dress code. Her long black hair went up into a high messy bun, making it loose enough to not pull at her already throbbing head. She opened up the medicine cabinet in the hopes of finding eye drops and aspirin but found only condoms and some first aid bandages. Her shoulders dropped in defeat. This was going to be the worst day ever. 

She exited the bedroom carefully, peaking out down the hall to see if there was any movement yet in the clubhouse. She cringed when the smell of smoke and booze slapped her in the face, the very source of her self inflicted ailments. But there was another aroma that caught her attention. 

Coffee. 

She tip toed down the corridor till she came to bar area and went slack jawed at the sight in front of her. It looked like something out of an ancient Roman orgy. Half naked men and women sprawled out over every inch of the clubhouse, snoring contently wrapped around one another the way they passed out. She was just about to head into the kitchen when she noticed one of the couples lying on the same couch remembered Tig on the night before. Chibs lay on his side, his belt and pants undone and one arm wrapped around the blonde bartender from last night. She was in nothing but a black and red g-string and her chest was flush against the Scottish biker. Ra felt an odd stirring in her chest. A baseless sense of jealousy she supposed. She dismissed it as anger towards the bartender for dishing out the booze that was causing the pounding in her head. 

“Mornin’ birdie. Sleep alright?”

Ra jumped at the sound of Gemma’s voice coming from the small room off to the side of the hall. She entered, taken aback at how put together Gemma looked this early in the morning. She sat perched on a stool like a queen on a throne, a cigarette dangling loosely between her fingers. She smiled smugly at the unmistakably hungover girl in front of her.

“Coffee’s done.” she said, raising her own glass to her lips “Food too. Aspirin in the cabinet if you need it.” 

Ra didn’t hesitate to spin around and open up the cabinet above her. A giant bottle of Tylenol, among other prescription bottles, looked down on her like a glowing beacon of hope.

“Had a good time last night?”

Ra scoffed as she poured a cup of coffee “Yeah. It won’t have any effect on my work.”

Gemma’s brows tensed for a moment before she let out a breathy laugh “If I didn’t allow the boys to come to work because they were hungover I wouldn’t be in business. Long as you get your job done.” She draped a arm over the back of her chair and took a long drag off her cigarette “You and our resident Scotty looked close last night. Something going on there?”

The simple observation made last night come rushing back to Ra. Nothing happened as far as she remembered. Chibs had been within arms length of her all night and helped her to her room when the liquor had finally taken full effect, but nothing more than that. Ra bobbed her head in the direction of the occupied couch and leaned back against the counter “You tell me.” 

Gemma peered around the corner and grinned “Oh sweetheart. Those are just one of the services those girls offer. It’s just pussy.” 

“You allow Clay to..”

“No.” Gemma interrupted, already knowing the question “I locked that down a long time ago. The girls in here know Clay is off limits. And if they don’t..” she straightened up dramatically and put a hand on her hip “I rip their tits off.”  

Ra smirked and nodded. She didn’t doubt it. If this was Gemma being nice she hated to see how the MC queen reacted when she was crossed. “Well, Chibs can do what he wants. Christ, it was a night of drinking and harmless flirting, not some Jane Austen romance novel. I know nothing about the guy other than the fact he‘s Scottish, loves alcohol and curses like a sailor. Oh and he apparently has a thing for blondes which I am not.” She hesitated, sucking in a breath when she realized that may have come out with a little more bitterness than intended “I just know I have a drinking buddy when I need one. Nothing romantic.” 

Gemma eyed her suspiciously, gauging her sincerity while she studied her face. Not getting any reaction, she gave a resigned smile and smacked her butt as they walked out of the room “Alright birdie. Let‘s get to work.”

XXXXXXXXX

I’m being punished. That was all Ra could think when she first got out to the garage. The first time all season the temperature had gone in to the upper nineties had to be on the day of the worst hangover of her life. She struggled through it though, catching amused looks from Gemma through the blinds of her air conditioned office. She may have seemed apathetic earlier, but now she was making a point to make sure it didn’t happen again. It was only herself and a strange sort of man named Lowell. He was shy and awkward, but a wiz mechanic. It was almost noon when the guys stumbled out of the clubhouse like a pack of vampires cowering from the sun. Some already had beer bottles in their hands. 

“Must be quite the life” she whispered out loud. 

Clay pulled his bike into the parking lot, smiling as he dismounted and pulled the leather gloves from his hands “How are things going sweetheart? Finding your way around okay?”

“Fine. Nothing I can’t handle.” Ra called back. 

“Good. Good.” Clay paused, shaking his head repeatedly but remaining relatively still as he surveyed the car she had been working on. He looked deep in thought till he noticed her staring “I’m gonna go talk to Gem. Keep up the good work.” He slapped her gently on the shoulder and disappeared into the office. The odd exchange had Ra suddenly worried that perhaps something was going on he wasn’t making her privy too.

Ra glanced back over her shoulder at the guys out on the balcony of the clubhouse. She was sure had Gemma been watching she would have seen the blush rise up in her cheeks when Chibs stepped outside. He slid his sunglasses on and adjusted his kutte before lighting up a cigarette. Blowing the smoke out slowly, he dipped his frames down to the end of his nose and looked back at her as if he could sense her watching him. Ra turned around quickly to the open hood of the SUV she had been working on and tried to remember what she had been doing. Faint footsteps on the pavement grew louder and she squeezed her eyes shut in the hopes maybe that would somehow make her invisible. 

“Alive and well I see.” came a Scottish inflection from behind her. 

“Alive” Ra grumbled.

Chibs couldn’t help but stare as she leaned over the car she was working on. The bartender from last night had been an attempt to get rid of any suppressed sexual tension he had been feeling and where it had been good, it apparently wasn’t good enough. Ra was the first thing he thought of when he woke up this morning. He knew Gemma would have her ass if she still sleeping it off, so after he dismissed the bartender, he made his way to her room. Finding it empty only brought on a new wave of urgency. She had gotten up before him and had to of seen him with the blonde whose name he hadn’t even taken the time to know. There was a stirring of irritation in him at the fact he even cared what she thought. Christ she hadn’t even been here twenty four hours. He had watched her for awhile through the window of the clubhouse. The engine grease smudged on her cheek and the oversized Teller-Morrow smock only adding more to her forbidden appeal. If she had just been like any other piece of ass that walked through this clubhouse, it would have been so much easier. He could have fucked her brains out, gotten it over with and let everything go back to business as usual. Standing outside with her now, under the weight of her narrowed gaze and the heat of the sun, he felt the need to explain himself but was rendered mute. 

“Thanks by the way.” Ra finally fractured the silence between them, looking rather annoyed at having to voice her gratitude. 

Chibs quirked a brow in surprise “For?”

“Ya know..” She fidgeted with the wrench in her hand timidly “Getting me in to bed and all.” She mentally slapped herself at her choice of words. More so when a crooked smile appeared on Chibs’ face, making his dimples deepen. 

“Don’t mention it. Yeh pretty charmin’ when yeh off your face.” 

He peered over his sunglasses and wagged his eyebrows up and down before turning on his heel to head back towards the clubhouse. Ra stood dumbfounded. Had something happened last night that she really didn’t remember? “Wait a minute!” 

Chibs kept his back to her as she approached. It was the only thing he could do to keep her from seeing the smirk on his face.

“Did somethin…” Glancing over his shoulder, Ra noticed Tig, Juice, Bobby, and Opie staring at them curiously from the picnic tables and she lowered her voice to a whispered hiss “Did something happen last night?”

Chibs cocked his head to the side and attempted to look hurt “Aye. A lot of things happened last night. Prospect won us money, we went through two bottles of Piney’s Patron, yeh danced with some of the girls. Yeh very good at tha’ yeh know.”

Ra winced. She didn’t remember dancing but that wasn’t what she was getting at and he knew it “You know what I mean Chibs. Did something happen with you and I?”

He pulled another cigarette out and lit it slowly, purposely taking his time to make her even more flustered. She raised her brows in annoyance and he finally caved “No. Nothing happened last night. Yeh were very ladylike. Even when yeh passed out on the bed. Barely any droolin‘.”

Her body relaxed and her pursed lips twisted up into a smile “Good to know.” She turned to walk away and Chibs couldn’t waste the opportunity to tease her again. 

“Yeh think I’m sexy though huh?”

Ra came to a quick halt and twisted back around “huh?”

“Last night” He repeated “Yeh said yeh thought I was sexy.”

“I did?” 

Chibs nodded, his grin turning cocky when he noticed the slack jawed look on her face. He was toying with her. Probably making a point to make her feel more foolish than she did last night. Ra straightened up and narrowed her eyes “I said sexy?”

“Devastatingly sexy. Unbearably sexy.” He lied. 

“Hmm.” She hummed playfully “Guess I was a lot more drunk than I thought.” 

She winked at him and continued back to the garage, overemphasizing the sway of her hips. When she glanced over her shoulder at him, Chibs was still watching her intently, his lips set in the shape of an “O” in mock offense. 

XXXXXXXX

Two sets of eyes watched the pairs exchanged from behind opened blinds. 

“What do ya make of that?” Clay asked his queen, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind. 

“It is what it is. The girl’s not so bad. I kinda like her.” She leaned her head back against his shoulder and rubbed his sore hands “Seeing him curled up next to a croweater this morning probably put her off.” 

“Yeah well that’s where he needs to be. I told the guys already I don’t want them getting involved with the kid. In case something happens with her dad, I don’t need things getting complicated.”

“When’s the last time you saw Chibs choose pussy over the club? I don’t think you have anything to worry about. Might as well let them have fun.” Gemma twisted around in his grasp and wrapped her arms around his neck “What are you gonna do with her if her old man rats anyway?”

Clay rested  his forehead against hers and sighed. The last thing he wanted was to do any harm to the girl, but after finding out from Unser that the ATF were investigating the MC, he had to have some kind of leverage to protect the club “I hope it don’t get to that point Gem. I really do.”

XXXXXXXX

#chibs telford #chibs telford fanfic #soa fanfiction #tommy flanagan

[garbinge]

Maybe One Day

Chibs Telford x F!Teller!Reader

Summary: You go back to Charming 10 years after… everything.

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: Angsty. Mentions of death, murder, emotional distress, emotionally heavy.

SOA Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics

A/N: I wrote this on my phone so don’t mind any odd formatting or editing mistakes!

Part 2

The moment you crossed into the town line you felt the heaviness overcome you. It was like there was this smog that only existed within the miles of town, one foot outside that sign that held the town founding year and population and it was like fresh air. But currently you were being suffocated as the odometer added mile after mile as you drove deeper into Charming.

It was like looking at an old photograph, not much had changed in most parts. There was still the main street strip, some of the stores definitely were new, but the street felt the same. You noticed the lack of loud, rumbling motors, lack of two wheeled engines parked along the curb. But early on that had been how it was before Scoops turned into the new head quarters for the Sons of Anarchy. It had been 10 years since you’d been back here, so it was likely the original club stomping grounds were back in commission.

You had told yourself you weren’t going to find out if that were true but you currently were parked just outside the automotive shop to see a new black warehouse like space where the old blue one used to be. The paint didn’t look too fresh where SOA was stencilled on but it looked new enough to you as you leaned against the black cutlass.

One thing and one thing only. It was the sentence you repeated in your head over and over as you drove hours back home. Back home, that felt like a heavy statement. Charming might have been where you grew up, but it wasn’t home. Despite it being where you’ve lived most in your life, it wasn’t home. One thing and one thing only. You knew that wasn’t true every time the thought ran in your head. It was inevitable that you’d come here, that you’d stop at the rocky mounted highway where JT’s memorial was. Where the helmet and sunglasses of the other Teller still lay abandoned.

You were just supposed to grab the last few things at the house before the closing date. The realtor handled everything else, the listing pictures, the calls with interested buyers, you had hired people to straighten up and you had put mostly everything else in storage 10 years ago, but there was one thing that was still in that house that no one else could get but you.

You didn’t put the house on the market until a month ago. It was an assumption but you figured the club was going to use the house for whatever shady business or reasons, it’s why you were happy you had a confirmed buyer that first week of putting the blue house on the market. All it took was one day and one tour by your realtor before the offer came in. But that sped up your timeline. It was likely that was why you pushed this out so far, dreading the thought of coming out here and going to the kitchen drawer and grabbing that pocket notebook that you hid in the false bottom of it.

Now that notebook was weighing heavy in your back pocket but it was fitting considering the weight of the air. You saw people in TM work shirts moving around, the weight of the word Teller staring down at you even from the street. That was all Charming ever did, weigh heavy on you.

You thought of the words you repeated over and over again. One thing and one thing only. What a lie. You scoffed slightly as if the conversation you were having in your head was actually happening outloud.

A few more thoughts popped into your head, each from someone this town had an effect on. Both statements weighing heavy on you because what else would thoughts about Charming be.

The one Hale spoke to Jax when you were younger. “It wont be long before SAMCRO is just an ugly memory in the history of charming.” Something felt unsettling there, unfortunately Hale died before he could see that come to light and as you stared at the new SAMCRO compound you had to think you probably would too.

Then Wendy’s voice came to your head, “The MC, this town, it kills all the shit you love.” She was right before shit even hit the fan. Although, shit was always hitting the fan so she was just on the pulse of Charming before any one else even bothered to look. You had lost everyone to Charming—to the club. Yes, you had Abel and Thomas still, but it was different, everyone you had in your family during your young life was gone. Tara, Jax, Gemma, Opie. The list went on.

But before you could continue the list you heard a familiar voice. The voice of the one person you hadn’t technically lost to the reaper but you most certainly lost to Charming and SAMCRO.

You hated how the voice made your heart happy. You hated how it managed to make every ounce of heaviness disappear and flee to the deep depths of the town and would only surface when you were left alone. But as you heard his voice again it made you wish you never would be alone again. It made you think for the briefest of seconds that maybe you could back out of the offer, move into the house that was now in your name and create a life here. Charming was home after all.

No. No. Charming was not home. The quick rational part of your brain quickly jolted you back to reality. That weight quickly rising from the ground and pulling at your ankles as a reminder that the town’s grip would suffocate you. But there it was again, the interruption that pulled the weight off your ankles and had you feeling as light as a feather.

“Love?”

The name he called you for years, whether it was in public or when you were tangled up in the sheets felt like a breath of fresh air in this smothering town. It wasn’t a nickname solely for you, you heard him say it to many women in your years of knowing him, and he probably had a fair share of women now he used the name on.

But that didn’t stop your knees from wanting to buckle. You turned and saw him, it was ironic that in your years of hanging in this club house, at TM, you had never seen Chibs on the street in front of the club HQ. Most guys parked inside, the street parking was reserved for excess cars who were there for service and for on lookers like yourself, although they usually tended to be wearing badges.

“Mother of Christ.” His accent was thick as he lifted his sunglasses up and off his face. His feet were moving towards you.

He didn’t think twice before engulfing you in a hug. You had thought about this moment a lot, going over all the different ways it could go. In one of the scenarios you thought he’d pause immediately front of you, stare at you like a stranger. There was something so relieving that he was hugging you like the past 10 years hadn’t existed, that no matter what happened he still cared about you, was happy to see you.

“Chibs!” A voice interrupted your embrace and you wanted to murder them. Funny how being in Charming made homicide an instant thought.

Chibs pulled away and that’s when the Scottish cologne hit you, a smile filling your face as he looked back to the person in the TM lot.

“Church in 10!”

You looked at the patch on his kutte immediately at those words and saw the president patch. It sent bile to your throat, it was the patch Jax wore for years. Not figuratively, but literally. It was the exact patch he wore, some of the stains on it were likely from his time wearing it. You didn’t stay here long enough to see it sit on Chibbs’ kutte but seeing it now was transporting you back 10 years.

“Why don’t y’come int’the clubhouse darlin’, have a drink, we can talk.” He looked older, the bags under his eyes were dark and puffy. You could tell the club life was affecting him, his hair was graying way more and it made him even more attractive.

“I shouldn’t.” You shook your head and doubled down, “I can’t.”

The second two worded statement you spoke is what made Chibs understand, a nod escaping from his head.

“It’s good t’see ye’.” He was trying to keep it light, he knew how hard this was.

“I’m selling the house.” You said it so business like, it was a way to give him the heads up to let the club know. You saw some traces of them being there, not frequently but enough. Cigarette buds in the ashtrays around the furniture that was left, empty beer bottles in the recycling bin. You knew Chibs made sure whoever came by knew to clean up after.

Chibs just nodded and looked down. “Y’happy?”

How were you supposed to be happy after Charming took every last thing that you loved. You thought for a minute and the faces of your nephews flashed in your mind and you smiled.

“The boys are teenagers. I don’t know if you can be happy with teenagers.” You joked.

Chibs grinned at the mention of Thomas and Abel.

You wanted to ask him if he was happy but you were afraid of the answer. You saw what the club presidency did to the person in the role before him. You saw what it had done to the other Teller in the same position just a decade before. It made you think about JT and his legacy for a moment. You always wondered if JT was just exemplified as this great person because he wasnt alive to be rememebered for his flaws. But then you remembered Gemma and Clay and how they only remembered JT for his flaws. Your mind instantly went to Jax who had killed both Clay and Gemma, and what his legacy was. If he’d be exemplified just because he was gone and his flaws would be forgotten. Your eyes moved to the newer clubhouse and saw the small memorial that was on the roof. There was white air forces perched on the edge where Jax would very often sit and reflect. That solidified it for you, he’d be seen as Jax Teller, son of JT, president of SOA, an honor to have known and loved him for the guys who were in the club when he reigned as VP and president. But then your eyes fell back on Chibs, the hope that since he knew the flaws that essentially led to the death of your brother, he’d lead differently while still respecting his legacy in the eyes of the club.

“You rebuilt.” You pointed to the building trying to erase that long heavy thought from your mind.

“Ice cream and hookers were too distracting for the guys.” He teased in reference to Scoops and Red Woody. “You sure you don’t want to come in, love? Church won’t take long, I’ll give y’my dorm while y’wait.”

It was a convincing offer. You wanted to see what Chibs’ dorm looked like, what life was like for him. But deep down you knew you already knew what it looked like because you lived it. You lived it and you hated it. You loved him but hated the life.

“No just came to get this.” You pulled the pocket notebook out and flapped it in the air.

Chibs knew exactly what that was and nodded in understanding.

“Chibs!” The same voice called out again.

“He’ll be in in a second!” You called out, eyes still glued on the Scot in front of you.

The prospect shut up quickly and moved back inside. You wondered how he’d describe you to the members inside, there was only a handful that could potentially recognize you from description, and an even smaller handful that would come out to see for themselves.

“I wanted to give it to Abel. I think he deserves to know Jax the way Jax wanted him to.” You explained the notebook that Chibbs knew all about between the time when Jax was writing it and when you had told him where you’d put it.

“It was really good ta see y’love.”

Despite everything shitty about being back, it was true for you too. It was great seeing him. You wished you could ask him to leave, come stay with you on your humble farm, sell fresh eggs with you at the farmers market and ride dirt bikes with the boys. But it was the same reason he never asked you to stay here. Sure he might’ve asked you to come in for a drink but the words “stay in Charming” would never come from his mouth. He knew it was too painful.

He pulled you in for another hug and you didn’t want to let go. The drink wasn’t sounding half bad, you wanted to catch up, hear about what he’s up to, how he’s been, but the answers you’d want to hear would never come and the one’s you dreaded to hear would be the only one’s that filled your ears.

As you pulled out of the embrace you squeezed his arm in a way to tell him the same about seeing him without actually saying it and then you quickly turned back to your car. Chibs was walking away now, his hand reaching up to wipe the couple stray tears he’d never admit to shedding and dropping his sunglasses back down.

You called out one last time to him, an impulsive decision and impulsive thought meeting together at the tip of your tongue.

“If Abel comes here, push him out. Don’t welcome him in.”

Chibs was frozen at the request and then he nodded in understanding.

“I’ll send ‘em right back to th’farm so his auntie can talk some sense into ‘em.” It was a humorous statement but it gave you relief because Chibs wouldn’t lie to you.

“You can tell him about Jax. The Jax you knew. The Jax we wanted him to be.”

It was just like you to have the most mundane small talk conversation at close range where whispers could be exchanged and this important one where voices carried.

“I won’t.” At first you thought he misheard you and you were going to correct him when he spoke up. “If he’s anything like his ol’ man, he’ll want to become the man we wanted him to be, and we’ve already seen how that plays out.”

You thought it was impossible to feel seen in Charming. To feel heard. You thought it was impossible for someone in the club to speak this way about it. About past members. It was probably one of the many things about Chibs that made you love him, his honesty, his care for the Teller family. It gave you a little hope.

“There’s always room for you at the farm.” You said as Chibs was walking backwards. Getting closer to the club but still staring in your direction. You saw the curly haired man appear from the clubhouse building, about to call Chibs’ name when he spotted you. You knew he’d hear the prospect talk and be outside to see for himself, using Chibs as the excuse.

Your hand raised and waved at Tig like you had just seen him yesterday. He immediately raised his hand waved and you heard his laugh crystal clear from where you were and stared back at Chibs for a response to your invitation.

“Maybe one day, love. Maybe one day.”

Part 2

#SOA #soa fanfiction #soa fanfic #filip telford #filip telford x reader #Sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy fanfic #sons of anarchy fanfiction #chibs telford #chibs x reader #chibs telford fanfiction

[tumbleweed-writes]

Death and the Lady: Chapter Eleven: Chibs Telford X Reader

TAG LIST:

@youngadult9016  @mrsfilipchibstelford @mamawiggers1980 @ravennaortiz @liveinsteadofdreaming @redwoodmaya

PREVIOUS CHAPTER FOUND HERE

TW: Description of Decay, Smut. 18+

CHAPTER ELEVEN: REASSURANCES

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She was barefoot in the cemetery; the ground cold, damp, and mushy below her feet. She frowned at the realization that she had no shoes on in a place where it very much seemed as though she should be wearing shoes.

Being barefoot outdoors, especially in such a public place in the dark, seemed to be just asking for a foot injury. She was certain this was a tetanus shot waiting to happen. She didn’t even go barefoot in her own yard. Why was she without shoes right now of all times? 

She didn’t have much time to focus on this realization nor this question though, the strong grip on her hand and the Scotsman ahead of her pulling her forward. His movement seemed far too quick for her; his legs were much longer than her own which meant that he moved forward at longer strides than she felt capable of. She was almost certain if he moved any faster she’d trip over her own feet…especially in the wet ground. Her lack of shoes seemed to give her no traction in the damp bit of mud mixed with grass below her feet. 

She thought to protest the swiftness in which he was pulling her forward, but had not a chance as he spoke, not even turning back to glance her way. “Jus’ a wee bit further. We’re close now.”

“Where are we going?” She dared to ask confusion washing over her as she struggled to keep up with his pace. She wanted to stop and force him to face her. She wanted to demand that he explain what was going on. She was sure if she stopped though he’d risk yanking her forward and making her fall to the ground with as quick as he was moving.

“You’ll see. We jus’ got a wee bit further to go. Trus’ me, we’re almos’ there.” Chibs replied his answer far too vague.

She parted her lips, tempted to prod him for more information. However, she remained silent; something about the pace in which he was moving and the demanding pull of her body behind him telling her he was the one calling the shots at the moment.

She stared down at her clothing, a greater sense of bewilderment washing over her. The knee length white nightgown she wore was not at all what she’d been expecting. The nightgown was sleeveless and sat loosely on her body; the fabric almost flowing as she moved. The delicate straps and the thin cotton of the gown seemed as though it would do so little to warm her in the cold night air. 

She was certain she owned a nightgown similar to this one. She owned quite a few nightgowns; most of them vintage pieces she’d acquired at thrift shops during her years in New York and a few vintage pieces that had once belonged to ancestors of hers. She had quite a few of her ancestors' old clothing sitting in a closet in one of the spare bedrooms. She’d always had a love for vintage pieces. Even if she didn’t wear some of the more delicate vintage pieces in her closet she still had an admiration for them. 

She preferred nightgowns when she slept, but didn’t quite understand why she was wearing a nightgown in the middle of a cemetery. This was never something she would wear outdoors, especially in such a public place. 

Chibs was dressed as he usually always was; jeans, a dark top, and his leather kutte. She could barely make out the reaper on his back in the dim light of the night. 

She glanced around her at her surroundings as Chibs continued to pull her forward. She didn’t recognize anything around her and she had a feeling it wasn’t just because it was so dark out. 

She could barely make out her surroundings from far away, but up close she could spot a few distinctive features. The cemetery felt old. The grass felt overgrown as though the grounds had not been maintained in a long while. She spotted none of the usual sightings of a cemetery; no flowers left out by mourners, no maintained trees and carefully landscaped plants, no sign of care. 

To her, cemeteries had always felt peaceful. She’d always been able to find some beauty in them. She wasn’t sure if it was just that she spent so much time in cemeteries due to her job, but she’d always been able to appreciate them. 

This place held no beauty though. It felt almost lifeless; like a caricature of a cemetery that one might view in some old black and white horror film.

The tombstones around her felt grand; towering obelisk monuments, old magnificent crypts, and worn gravestones whose inscriptions had long since faded. Everything seemed so gray and dreary. 

She was sure that she couldn’t possibly be in any part of Charming’s local cemetery, not even the older sections.

She was certain if she was in Charming’s cemetery then she’d recognize her surroundings. She’d been all over the property with her job. She knew every section of that cemetery by heart. She remembered the name of the first person buried in that cemetery and how many available plots remained in each section. 

This cemetery was nothing like the one in Charming, To be honest, it resembled a few of the older cemeteries she’d been to during her time out in New York when she’d first begun to work as a funeral director. She’d had to go upstate once or twice for a burial and a few of the cemeteries there had been filled with tombstones that dated back to the original colonies when the USA was still under British rule. 

She peered up at the night sky, the realization hitting her that it must be cloudy as the moon was barely visible. She could barely see a sliver of moon behind the dark clouds. The stars were not visible at all, the lack of moon and stars made her surroundings devoid of any natural lighting.

She frowned as she felt a light drip of wetness against her skin as the dark clouds above her started to release just a hint of rain.

She parted her lips to mention the rain to Chibs and request that they seek shelter indoors in order to avoid being caught in an incoming storm, but the comment died on her lips as she heard a distinct rustle of movement behind her.

She turned struggling to glance behind her as Chibs continued on his path, yanking her behind him. She peered through the dark of the night straining her eyes struggling to see just what was responsible for the noise, but spotting nothing.

The noise sounded out again close enough for her to recognize it as the shuffle of feet somewhere out in the pitch black of night. She couldn't shake the sense that she was being watched like prey by someone or something that was just waiting for a chance to pounce. 

She spoke, her voice faint and fearful. “Filip, there’s something out there. I think it’s following us.”

She earned no response, turning back to face the man who’d just moments ago been dragging her along her stomach dropping as she realized he was nowhere in sight.

She turned searching her surroundings for him seeing only the dark of the night and the shape of the tombstones around her, her voice growing frantic. “Filip? Where are you? Filip?”

She was met with silence, her arms wrapping around herself both trying to protect herself from the cold night chill and the sudden realization that she was alone in a strange place with something clearly stalking her out in the darkness.

She called out again her heart slamming in her chest she moving forward hoping she’d just gotten separated from him and would catch up to the Scotsman soon. “Filip? Where are you?”

She heard the shuffle of movement behind her, the sound close enough that she was sure she could reach out and touch whatever was responsible for it if she were to turn around and face it.

She turned to face it praying against odds it was Chibs. Bile rose in her throat at the sight in front of her. 

She recognized the man. It was one of the deceased men she’d allowed SAMCRO to borrow. He was mostly recognizable by the suit he’d been dressed in for his funeral…the suit he’d not been buried in as his body had been loaned out to the Sons prior to the funeral. Instead bags of concrete had been buried in his place…bags she’d placed in weighing them out carefully to imitate the feeling of an occupied closed casket. The unoccupied casket had not been found until later the bags of concrete missing compliments of SAMCRO. Not a soul other than the Sons and she knew this man had never occupied that grave. 

Decomposition had begun to set in to the man’s features. The man’s skin had taken a somewhat green tone and begun to split as bloat had set in; gasses from his decaying organs clearly releasing. She was confused by the sight as she had embalmed him, puncturing his organs with a trocar. There should be no gasses remaining in his organs. How were there still gasses to make him bloat? Black purge leaked from his orifices and insect life had begun to settle in. She could spot flies buzzing around him and maggots wriggling in a few pockets of his split skin. One of his eyes had gone a milky white and the other had rotted away completely leaving him with an open empty black socket.

Despite the advanced rate of decay the man managed to shamble forward his hands reaching out towards her his nails black a few of the nails having already fallen off his fingers.

She snapped out of her shock and disgust moving backwards barely escaping his grasp. She turned struggling to move forward the muddy ground below her and her lack of shoes caused  her to slide and struggle as she attempted her escape.

She heard another rustle of movement to her left, another body appearing to start a slow shamble in her direction.

She recognized this body easily. It was the very first deceased she’d been solely responsible for burying back in New York.

The young woman looked exactly the way she’d looked when Y/N had first stared down at her on that embalming table years ago before she’d gotten started on trying to make her look presentable for the modest funeral her family had paid for. 

She could remember how young the woman had looked laying there lifeless on the embalming table. They’d been close in age and Y/N remembered thinking that they could have gone to school together at one point. Y/N could also remember thinking to herself that it could have easily been her on that embalming table had she remained in Charming with Gunner and SAMCRO. The thought had been a sobering one especially for her first official solo embalming job. 

The dead woman was just as thin as Y/N remembered her being, the drug addiction she’d struggled from in life making her almost skeletal. Her skin held no sign of color to it. The skin was pallid aside from the pooling of purple where blood had settled on her right side. She’d been lying on her right side when she passed and once the heart had stopped pumping blood it had all settled to the lowest point in the body. Livor mortis truly was a fascinating thing, or at least Y/N had always thought it was interesting to consider. The dead woman’s long fair hair was stringy and greasy lying limply against her scalp. She wore the same stained yellowed white sundress Y/N could remember cataloging when her body had first been rolled into the funeral home back in New York. Her long nails were dirty and chipped bits of red polish still remained on them. 

Her eyes were a pale shade of blue, any sign of life behind them long gone. Those lifeless eyes were fixed on Y/N and as strange as it sounded Y/N was almost certain she could spot a sense of hatred in them despite the lack of light behind the dead woman’s eyes. 

Y/N continued to move forward struggling in the wet ground as the rain above her fell harder making the mud feel sticky and thick below her. Her nightgown was drenched quickly, the fabric feeling heavy on her form as she tried her hardest to escape.

She fell to the ground, the slickness of the mud far too difficult to maneuver through at such a quick frantic pace. She cried out the deceased pursuing her, growing closer and closer by the second.

She felt a strong pair of hands grip her upper arms, her heart lifting hoping it was Chibs. Perhaps he’d returned to rescue her.

Her blood ran cold as she was roughly pulled back upright meeting the eyes of who she’d foolishly hoped would be her savior. 

Gunner smirked down at her his grip on her arms growing harsh as he spoke a sense of glee in his voice. “Hey, Girl. Did you miss me?”

He turned her around to face the deceased who were still shambling towards her his voice was cruel but so amused. “Here she is, guys. Come get her.”

She cried out begging to the dead to leave her be and spare her. “No, please, no. Stay away from me, please. I’m sorry, please don’t.”

A familiar voice sounded out among her panicked cries, the Scottish brogue soothing and gentle. “Hey, Hen. Yer havin’ a bad dream, Lass. Come on, wake up.”

The voice continued, sounding out over the horror in front of her and her cries of panic and pleas for forgiveness. “Come on, Love. It’s okay. Ya can wake up now, Hen. Yer safe. I’ve got ya.”

Awareness kicked in rapidly; she shot up in bed, her breathing labored. She gazed around the dark of her room, her heart slamming in her chest.

She struggled to comprehend that none of the horror she’d just experienced had all been manufactured in her mind. She struggled to accept that she was in fact safe and sound in her bedroom, her concerned boyfriend staring up at her through the darkness of her room.

Chibs felt her shoot up out of his embrace. He reached out blindly in the unfamiliar room, it taking him a moment to find the lamp on the nightstand at the side of her bed he’d fallen into the night before.

He finally located the switch turning the light on giving the room a dull pleasant glow in an otherwise stressful situation. He sat up alongside her, reaching out hesitantly to place a hand against her lower back. He was almost sure touching her too quickly would send her into an even more frantic state. It seemed as though she was locked in a panic attack whatever she’d dreamed about horrifying her. He was almost certain that touching her too hastily would send her into fight mode. 

 He rubbed soft soothing circles into her back trying to give her some silent reassurance while she sorted through whatever had just occurred in her sleep. 

He’d woken when she’d begun to thrash beside him the murmured words leaving her lips more and more rapidly by the second. No, please, no. I’m sorry. Please don’t. Please no. I’m so sorry. Please no. 

She struggled to catch her breath for a moment, it always feeling like this when she woke from one of the nightmares that had become frequent since she’d agreed to help out SAMCRO. She always struggled to pull herself out of that sense that she needed to fight for her life or run screaming. It always took a moment for her to reassure herself that she was safe in her bedroom and not in danger of losing her life and her soul to the dead who pursued her so relentlessly. 

The only thing that seemed to be different this time around was that she was not waking up all alone to deal with the aftermath.

Chibs continued to rub her back, uncertain of what to say. There were a thousand things he wanted to say to her but none of them felt quite soothing nor good enough.

He was tempted to bring up his own experience with nightmares. Lord knows he’d had a few of them all about how Jimmy O’ had attacked him back in Belfast. He was tempted to reassure her that he’d experienced the same sense of panic she was currently locked in. He was tempted to promise her that it would all be alright. 

He kept his hand pressed to her back, his eyes scanning the room feeling dazed, worried, and exhausted.

He’d not had much of a chance to really take a look around the master bedroom before they’d gone to bed the night before.

He’d been more focused on stripping down to his boxers and undershirt and getting into bed beside the woman he had been imagining having the privilege of sharing a bed with probably from the moment he’d realized that his liking her went far beyond just lust.

He’d folded up his kutte and clothing leaving them on a red velvet living chair in the corner of the room by the closet. He’d placed his gun and his knives between his clothing and the kutte uncertain how Y/N would feel about the weapons being out in plain sight.

The room was larger than he’d anticipated. 

The room was a bit cluttered but nothing compared to the rest of the house. The clutter felt more personal than any of the family heirlooms in the other parts of the house. The belongings spread throughout the space made it feel cozy and welcoming. It seemed to reflect the woman who rested here. 

The walls were painted a deep navy tone though he had a feeling that may have been her father’s choice given the room had once belonged to him and several ancestors prior. 

Chibs took notice of the old vanity table sitting directly across from her side of the bed studying the bottles of perfume set out on it alongside a surprisingly large wooden grandiose looking jewelry box, and a large collection of makeup that was all neatly sorted in an organizer. 

A soft looking purple rug sat out in front of the vanity table; it seeming far less intimidating than the exquisite looking persian rugs throughout the rest of the upper portion of the house and downstairs in the funeral home portion of the house. 

Her closet appeared large from what he’d seen it looking more like a walk in closet than anything. Two dressers sat in the room and a few items sat spread out over the tops of them; a few small framed photos from Y/N’s childhood. There were a couple of crystals sitting out; a large piece of rose quartz and another amethyst, this one much larger than the one he’d spotted out in the living room.

A few small framed taxidermy butterflies were mounted on the wall alongside a couple of paintings that looked to be antiques. The paintings featured delicate flowers and songbirds. 

There were several books on gardening stacked on a dresser showing Y/N had a love for the hobby. He found it kind of amusing. His Hen who worked daily with death and who everyone knew as the town undertaker loved a hobby that was all about nurturing something that most people associated with life. 

The queen sized bed held a heavy looking tall ornate headboard made out of dark cherry wood. The headboard was something Y/N had casually mentioned, the night before, that she’d gotten in a thrift shop back when she’d been living in New York. it had been a steal she’d claimed as it was old and obviously had been well cared for. 

Her bedsheets were a soft mint tone and they felt comforting and soothing to his mind. A heavy gray comforter and a handmade colorful quilt covered the bed making it feel cozy and safe.

The houseplants had caught Chibs' attention. There were several of them; all well taken care of sitting throughout the room. Those that needed bright light sat along her window seal and others sat throughout the room in ceramic pots. The plants made the room feel fresh and full of life. 

The room felt like a nice escape from the sensory overload in the rest of the living quarters portion of the house and the dreary knowledge of what happened on a daily basis in the downstairs funeral home portion of the house. 

Chibs easily realized he could grow accustomed to spending his nights in this room if she allowed him the privilege. It felt far more comforting than his bed in the dorm at the Sons clubhouse or the pathetic bed he kept in a small studio apartment he rented for when he wanted to take a rest away from the noise of the Sons clubhouse. 

The gentle rub to Y/N’s back was enough to break her out of the panicked sense of dread she’d been locked in; she was surprised as tears began to leak from the corners of her eyes.

She turned to face Chibs, scooting close to him, her arms wrapping tight around him. She allowed the tears to fall more rapidly. She was too exhausted to bother attempting to wipe them away or hide them the way she usually might when she had to cry in front of someone.

She’d never felt 100 percent comfortable crying around people. She had to wonder if it was just because she’d grown up in an environment where there seemed to be a constant stream of crying mourners coming in and out of the home. She’d always associated crying as something that was only meant to be done in front of others in serious situations like the death of a loved one.

As she’d gone into the funeral business she’d learned to hold back tears even more. It was inappropriate to cry in front of the mourners you were meant to serve. She’d adopted the concept that their grief was not hers so she had zero right to cry. She had learned to keep her emotions locked tight close to her chest. Crying was only done in private and never in front of anyone else. 

She’d found that crying in front of anyone just made her feel awkward and embarrassed. Her tendency to compartmentalize her emotions on the job had seeped into her personal life it seemed. 

Chibs wrapped his arms around her, rocking her against him, his voice soft and soothing. “It’s all okay now, Hen. I’m here, I’ve got ya.”

She gripped down onto his undershirt, her face burying against his chest wanting to be surrounded by the familiar scent of him. It was a scent that had soothed her to sleep the night before; a hint of cigarettes and the faintest hint of his cologne. 

He ran a hand up and down her back continuing to rock her his words soft and soothing reminding her that he had her and that everything was okay in this room.

He found himself repeating the phrases I’ve got you. It’s okay now. It’s over now. You’re okay now. You’re safe. 

His soothing managed to calm her enough to stop her tears but she remained locked in his embrace. They both found themselves holding on to one another tightly both seeming to seek reassurance and a sense of peace. 

He dared to speak though he already knew the answer to his question. “Nightmare, Hen?”

She nodded her head wordlessly. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, he quick to speak again. “You want ta talk bout it?”

She let out a heavy sigh, a cruel voice in the back of her brain telling her that if he knew about the content of her nightmares he’d write her off as being unstable and therefore a risk to SAMCRO. 

She shushed the voice, choosing to give him a brief summary. “You, me, some cemetery…the dead I’ve buried stalking me in the night. You disappeared this time around. Usually you let them drag me away screaming. You actually usually seem pretty thrilled when they drag me away, kind of like you were in on it…almost like it was a trap and you were an accomplice. This time Gunner was there too…he offered me up to them gleefully. One of the bodies I loaned to SAMCRO and the first body I ever embalmed all alone were the dead who were after me this time around.”

He spoke absorbing this information the need to reassure her sliding from his lips. “You know I’d never let anythin’ happen to ya, Lass. I’d sure as hell not let anyone drag ya away from me. As far as Gunner goes. Ya never gotta worry bout him again. We’ve already established I’ll fuckin’ break his legs and arms if he comes near ya ever again.”

He paused, clearing his throat knowing the exact incidents that had been the culprit behind these dreams. He felt an awful sense of guilt claw inside of him digging its nails in making him feel anguished.

He spoke wanting badly to fix this for her even if he was uncertain that what he was offering to her was even possible. “If…if ya doin’ favors fer the club, if it's hurtin’ ya like this. I can get ya out of it…I’m sure Skeeter would be happy to pick up yer end of the deal even if he’s tryin to quit gamblin. As long as we still got a funeral home connection ya shoul’ be in the clear.”

“Oh yeah, I’m sure my backing out on my end of the deal and handing the responsibility over to Skeeter will be just fine and dandy with the MC. I won’t be seen as knowing too much and being a risk at all.” She snarked back, unable to hide the venom from her voice.

She cringed parting her lips to apologize for her harshness but she didn’t have a chance as Chibs spoke, sounding surprisingly certain of his words. “I wouldn’t let anyone hurt a hair on yer head…not even my club.”

She sighed wishing that taking the solution he was offering was that simple. She could distinctly remember her talk with Clay just last night though. 

SAMCRO’s Pres had urged her to keep making both Chibs and the Sons happy. She was certain backing out on her end of the partnership she’d offered to develop with SAMCRO would not make the Sons happy at all. Chibs might forgive her for backing out of the deal she’d made, but the rest of the Sons most likely would not be so understanding. 

As much as she trusted Chibs, she was quite certain that even he couldn’t protect her from the wrath nor the suspicions of Clay Morrow. If she backed down and handed over the responsibility of the bargain she’d made with SAMCRO to Skeeter, she’d be written off as a threat to the MC. She knew too much. She would be viewed as a loose end that they could easily snip off. 

She was certain that Chibs would be powerless to fully provide her protection if she was viewed as a threat to SAMCRO. Even if he tried to protect her, then who was to say he’d not be given the same treatment; treated as a threat. They would most likely view his attempts to protect her as a sign of weakness and disloyalty to the club. 

She spoke her voice soft but determined. “I made a deal with SAMCRO. I intend to keep up my end of the bargain.”

“Even if it’s torturin’ yer mind, Hen?” Chibs countered he scooting back just enough to peer into her eyes.

She let out a soft sigh averting her eyes from his, the words soft. “The nightmares are not happening as frequently as they did at first. The nightmares are probably just picking up because of all of the stress of tonight. I had a nightmare the night after I was practically interrogated by Hale. I think stress and anxiety triggers them. My brain is just a jerk who can’t process guilt and taunts me with things I don’t feel so awesome about…the guilt of what I’ve done along with the fear of being caught.”

She let out a shaky breath feeling safe enough to say the words out loud. “I can accept that what I’ve done means I’m an awful person who deserves hell. I betrayed the profession I swore to uphold the ethics of. I have caused immense pain to the bereaved. I disrespected the dead that were entrusted in my care. I could and should lose my license for what I did. I deserve any suffering that comes my way. I know that. I’ve made my bed and I need to lie in it”

“Ya ain’ an awful person. What ya did fer the club was…” Chibs started to say before she spoke, interrupting him.

“Morally repugnant, abuse of a corpse, an insult to decent society, a sin.”

He spoke again, rolling his eyes somewhat at her comments. “Ethically…questionable. Yer far from bein awful and deservin any torture. The world ain’ that black and white, Hen. Ya gotta realize shite is more of a shade of gray…at least in our world. Jus’ focus on the fact that ya made sure those bodies did get a final rest when SAMCRO was done with em. Ya weren’t responsible fer what we did with em. We didn’t tell ya why we wanted em. What happened after ya agreed to help us, that’s my sin to suffer fer, Lass. I’ll take hell fer ya. Those families will never know the truth. They didn’t blame ya fer the version of events they were given since ya didn’t get sued. They don’ know what ya did. Only SAMCRO does, and we ain’ judgin’ ya. The bereaved and the rest of society know nothin’ bout what really happened, and they never will. What they don’t know won’t hurt em.”

He pressed a soft kiss to her temple as he spoke again. “ I want ya to think bout what ya did fer those bodies we had ya cremate…ya cared nough to give em a final restin’ spot. Ya buried em with care under that rose bush. Ya made sure they found peace somewhere beautiful to rest, even if ya didn’t know what they’d want. Ya gave em that care in the end. Someone truly morally repugnant wouldn’t bury cremains of lasses she didn’t even know with such care. Someone who was so awful wouldn’ care bout what happened to those cremains. Ya cared though. Yer carin means ya ain’ so bad.”

She sighed, wanting to argue that she was just as responsible as him as she’d agreed to loan out the bodies in the first place even if it had been for much needed money. 

The fact that she’d sold her morals for money made her feel even worse. She knew the debts she’d inherited had been crushing her, but she also knew she’d had other options. They’d just not been options she wanted to take. She’d been selfish and greedy. She’d been impulsive and dived face first into danger. She had proven she hadn’t changed as much as she’d claimed she had when she exclaimed she was nothing like the girl she’d been almost a decade before. She was still prone to run towards danger like a moth to the flame. If she was feeling the burn of the flame then she had no one to blame but herself. 

She held her tongue though knowing that this was one argument she had zero chance in hell of winning. She knew enough about Chibs to realize that his stubborn streak was equally the width of hers.

She dared to speak, bringing up something that had been troubling her. “What am I supposed to do if anyone ever asks where the money you guys gave me came from? I paid those bills in cash…they were large payments for cash…cash that I just seemed to get out of nowhere. Suppose someone ever looks into my financial records if the police keep looking into those empty graves.  What do I do if anyone ever asks me just where I got so much money out of nowhere?”

Chibs sighed, wracking his brain for a reasonable answer. He spoke as an idea crossed his mind, hoping it was a reasonable solution. “Ya tell em ya did some funeral plannin fer Gemma…Tell em she wanted to make funeral plans fer Clay an her…ya know plan ahead of time fer the future. Say she paid ya in cash fer it all. Clay and she got nough investments in all sorts of legit shite. It’d sound reasonable to think ya got paid in cash. Ya can throw some bullshite plans together as evidence ya planned it. Gemma and Clay would cover fer ya and collaborate yer story if anyone ever asked.”

She sighed knowing that counting on Gemma Teller Morrow or Clay Morrow to be an essential alibi for her wasn’t ideal. She had a feeling that it would work in a bind though. They wouldn’t just be protecting her after all. They’d be protecting the misdeed she’d done for the club and therefore protecting the club itself.

She nodded her head, unable to stop herself from voicing her fears. “I always worry that one day what I’ve done for SAMCRO will lead back to me and I’ll lose everything. I love my job, Filip. I’m where I was meant to be, working here. This is essentially what I was born to do. It’s my legacy and I’ve finally gotten to a place in my life where I want to accept it. I’m good at what I do. I can’t lose that. It’ll be like losing part of my identity. I won’t know who I am without my job.”

“Ya ain’ goin’ to lose a thing, Hen. That fuckin’ case in Lodi is cold and the local PD there have given up on it. We’ve been havin’ Juice monitor shite gettin intel from a connection we got outta the San Joaquin county department. They’re able to call in and see what’s goin in all the departments in the county without it soundin’ suspicious. Those empty graves and that staged crime scene are old news in Lodi. Cops there got bigger fish to fry. The case ran cold and leads ran dry. I think yer in the clear.” Chibs reassured her she frowning slightly at the mention of this connection in San Joaquin. She would never cease to be amazed in how long the arms of SAMCRO reached.

He pressed a kiss to her temple, he fast to speak again. “I love how much ya love yer job, Hen. Yer righ’, yer fuckin incredible at yer job. Ya ain’ losin’ yer legacy. Ya ain’ gotta worry about losin that part of yerself, not fer the club and never fer me.”

He pressed another kiss to her temple, his words soft. “Trus’ me Mo ghràidh. I’m not in the habit of lyin’ to pretty lasses.”

“What does that mean…Mo ghràidh?” She dared to ask as she soaked in his reassurances, this not being the first time she’d heard the unfamiliar words leave his lips.

He spoke, managing to pull back just enough from her to press a soft kiss to her lips as he spoke. “Scottish Gaelic, Hen. It means "My love.”

If her heart hadn’t already overflowed with devotion for him at least a dozen times tonight she was certain it would have in this moment. Her lips pressed to his cheek, her voice soft and filled with a sense of fond adoration. “Oh, Filip. How are you this sweet?”

He chuckled, shaking his head at the comment not helping but to lean into the press of her lips to his cheek. “I’m only sweet to ya, Hen. Don’ tell no one. Gotta keep up my reputation, especially with the prospect. Can’t let em know I’m this soft.”

She smiled, wanting to point out that he was far sweeter to more people than he realized. She held it in though, pressing another kiss to his cheek.

Her lips ran across his skin adoringly, Chibs not helping but to sink into the affection. He was certain he’d never grow accustomed to someone kissing him with such tenderness and he knew for a fact he’d never be entirely convinced he deserved such warmth. He was eager to soak it up all the same.

He managed to turn his face, his lips sliding along hers with ease. The kiss easily grew impassioned, his tongue finding no resistance, she parting her lips.

She let out a soft moan as he slid his tongue along hers, easily dominating the kisses she sank into his affections.

She reluctantly parted her lips from his an idea crossing her mind. She smiled at him, her voice soft as she reached out toying with the collar of his undershirt. “So, you said that tonight was all about me…making me feel good?”

“Aye, it was.” He insisted his heart rate picking up, he trying not to get his hopes up on what she might be about to offer him. He was quite certain he’d eagerly take anything she was willing to give him. 

She leaned in her lips brushing across his so lightly; the kiss was not nearly enough for him. She smirked as she pulled away, he leaning forward chasing her lips.

She gently shoved him back to rest against the bed, her voice teasing. “So…it’s around three a.m…I could argue that last night was just about me. It’s technically a new day.”

“Aye, it is.” He agreed a heat spreading to the lower region of his body, his heart beating all the quicker.

She laid down beside him, her lips sliding along his cheek down to his neck. “So, can this morning be about you?”

“Aye, Hen. I wouldn’t say no to tha’ offer.” He insisted a low moan leaving him as her lips moved along his pulse point, pressing soft sucking kisses into his skin.

He was certain she might leave a mark behind and he couldn’t help but to love the idea. He knew he’d wear any lovebites from her proudly. 

She ran a hand down his torso teasingly her lips focused on his neck, his head falling back soaking up the attention.

She ran a hand under his undershirt caressing his warm skin, a small sense of anxiety building ever so slightly within him. He was almost tempted to attempt to suck in his stomach. He knew his midsection was far wider than he’d prefer.

She didn’t seem to notice that he was a little heavier than he’d like her hand caressing his skin, her touch soft and teasing.

He turned his head, her lips pressing to his, the kiss growing deep as her hand ran down his torso far too slowly. Her fingertips passed over his hips gently running along his thigh, a groan leaving him.

She ran her hand back up his thigh, sliding it over his abdomen, a groan leaving him the lower region of his body perking up almost as though it was trying to tempt her into touching him.

Another groan left him as she gave in her hand pressing over his boxer clad member a soft moan leaving her as she spoke. “Can I touch you, Baby? I want to stroke this cock and make you feel so good.”

He eagerly nodded his head, the words becoming jumbled up on his lips he wanting to say a million things.

She spoke teasingly, almost parroting a phrase he’d murmured to her the night before in pursuit of pleasuring her. “I need words, Filip.”

He groaned, nodding his head. “Fuck, Hen. Aye ya can do whatever ya want to me.”

She giggled at the comment the action making his cock twitch. She spoke, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “That’s a dangerous offer to make, Handsome.”

“Never been one to shy away from danger, Lass.” He remarked his heart lifting at the word handsome. It had been so long since anyone had called him such a thing.

He whined as she pulled away all too suddenly. She smirked, shaking her head at the whine that left his lips. 

She pressed a reassuring kiss to his cheek, her voice soft. “I need to grab something that’s going to help us out.”

He furrowed his brow as she turned in bed reaching for the drawer in her nightstand. He smirked understanding as she rolled back over holding up a tube of lubricant. 

He spoke nodding his head at the tube, a knowing smirk on his lips. “Ya keep lube in yer nightstand, Hen?”

She returned the smirk as she spoke. “Yep, it can be helpful especially when I’m a little too eager to really work myself up and get as wet as I want before I make myself cum with my vibrator.”

He groaned the words making his cock throb. He closed his eyes for a brief moment overcome with imagery of what she was describing. He could so easily imagine her lying back in this bed, a toy buried so deep in her wet center. He could imagine her writhing against the bed as the toy buzzed away moans pouring from her lips. 

He spoke daring to open his eyes as he watched her open the tube squirting a healthy amount of lube into her hand. “Fuck, Hen. I think I may need a demonstration some time.”

“You want to hump my vibrator?” She teased a giggle leaving his lips , he shaking his head.

“Nah, think we already established I wanna give ya the humpin round ere. I wouldn’ mind seeing ya play though, Love. Bet it’s a fuckin’ beautiful sight.” He insisted his cock throbbing at the thought.

She spoke knowing just what to say to make him moan. “Last time I did it, we’d just ended a phone call. The sound of your voice was enough to make me want to make myself cum. I think that accent of yours is a kink I didn’t even know I had.”

“Christ, Mo ghràidh.” he moaned, his reaction being exactly what she’d envisioned.

She spoke, a surprisingly dominant tone entering her voice. “Get rid of those boxers for me, Filip.”

He groaned, shoving the bed sheets and comforter down with zero shame as he frantically reached down practically ripping his boxers off his movements a little clumsy. 

His boxers were kicked off somewhere off the side of the bed, she gazing down at his cock a soft moan leaving her as she spoke. “Fuck, Filip. You’re way more impressive than I’d hoped.”

He groaned knowing this wasn’t the first time a sexual partner had made a comment about his dick. In the past though, when a croweater thought to comment on his size he’d always assumed it was absolute bullshit. The club sweetbutts tended to just say whatever they thought whichever Son they were with wanted to hear.

Talking about how huge a guy was seemed to be a favorite line among the croweaters no matter what size their bedroom partner might be.

With Y/N though, he had the sense that her words were genuine judging by the sense of lust washing over features.

She stared down at him, her clit distinctly throbbing. She wasn’t lying. He was thicker than she’d hoped for and longer than she’d thought he might be. He was just above average enough to pack the promise that he’d feel good without it being too much. 

He wasn’t so huge that she was certain he’d just be painful buried inside of her. She knew some guys were deluded enough to think that the bigger the more pleasurable. She knew though that too big could just be uncomfortable. Some guys seemed to think that a woman’s body was unending but that was not the case at all. She’d found in the past that too big meant less inside and a sense of discomfort. There was a fine line between being thick and long enough to provide a pleasant stretch and being so brutally huge it felt like you were being ripped in half.

She had a feeling that Chibs favored the pleasurable stretch side of the coin.

She pressed her lips to his, the kiss growing deep without any effort. Chibs groaned into the kiss as she wrapped her lube slicked hand around his cock.

She stroked him slowly, his head falling back moans of pleasure spilling from his lips. He rocked against her touch she pulling her hand back a frustrated whine leaving him.

She spoke her voice so teasing. “Stay still and enjoy it, Filip.”

He groaned gripping down onto the bedsheets nodding his head frantically, having to wonder when he’d become so submissive. 

There was something incredibly erotic about letting her take control though. It was not something he’d thought he’d be willing to do with any bedroom partner.

He found that he was all too eager to lie back and let her take control for now at least.

She wrapped her hand back around him stroking him so slowly a groan leaving him he resisting the urge to rock against her to increase the pleasure. 

She spoke her voice soft and sweet. “So beautiful, Filip. You’re so handsome.”

He spoke his voice thick with lust. “We gotta get ya glasses, Hen. Fuck.”

He paused, shaking his head a giggle leaving him as he spoke again. “Actually nevermin’. Don’t wanna get ya glasses. Ya migh’ see what an ugly bastard I am if yer vision gets better.”

She spoke pressing an adoring kiss to his lips, he moaning against her lips. She spoke as she pulled from the kiss far sooner than he’d hoped. “Shush, you’re not ugly. You’re the sweetest, the bravest, and the most handsome man I know.”

He groaned as she sped up her movements, her voice teasing. “If you weren’t handsome I wouldn’t have worn out the batteries in my vibrator thinking about you.”

He grunted the words leaving him. “Fuckin jack off too much to ya, Love. Livin’ with my hand down my fuckin’ boxers every nigh’ since we met.” 

She moaned her clit throbbing at the confession. She spoke, reaching forward with her other hand massaging his balls, the action making his eyes practically roll into the back of his head, a loud moan leaving him.

She spoke pulling her hand from his balls all too soon but he didn’t have time to focus on the loss as she spoke. “What do you imagine, Baby?”

“Takin ya in every position, Love. Makin ya moan my name. Makin ya cum over and over again. Makin ya cream all over this cock. Cummin in that pussy, lettin ya know it’s mine. How tight yer pussy woul’ feel. Yer fuckin tits.” He moaned his eyes gazing down at what she was doing to him wanting to commit the sight to his memory.

It was the hottest thing he was sure he’d seen in a long while; her lube slick hand sliding over his cock, pre cum desperately seeping from his redened tip, her nails that soft pink, her hands so delicate wrapped around his thick length.

She spoke, reaching out with the hand that wasn’t occupied placing it over one of his. She pressed his hand to her breast over the silk of her nightgown “These tits?”

He groaned at the action, his cock throbbing painfully. He massaged her breast over the silk of her nightgown, a moan spilling from him. “Aye, fuckin perfect breasts. Perfect handful. Stared at em too much when we firs met. Couldn’t wipe em from my brain.”

She smiled a soft moan leaving her at the words and the feel of his hand working her breast. No guy had ever managed to make pleasure course through her so rapidly just by touching her breast alone.

She was tempted to lower her nightgown and let him have all the more access, but held back stroking his cock more rapidly, the action making his resolve break his hips rocking.

She did nothing to stop him, allowing him to help her chase his orgasm. She spoke her voice soft and adoring. “Want to make you cum, Handsome. You deserve it. Such a sweet brave man, trying to protect me tonight, promising to keep me safe.”

He groaned, nodding his head frantically, the words spilling from him. “Gonna protect ya with my life, Hen. Always gonna be safe with me.”

She pressed a kiss to his cheek, her voice sweet. “You’re going to be safe with me too, Filip.”

He groaned the words making his heart ache with adoration. She continued to stroke him, her lips pressing along his neck. “You made me feel so good tonight, Filip. Never had a man eat my pussy so well. Never had anyone make me cum from that alone.”

“Fuck, gotta treat ya how ya deserve.” He grunted the comment making his balls ache hinting that she would soon be successful in getting him to his end.

She spoke continuing to stroke him he chasing the sensation with rapid thrusts helping her please him. “Want to treat you how you deserve too, Handsome.”

He moaned as she nipped at his pulse point his balls throbbing pulling closer to his body the end so deliciously close.

He twisted the bedsheets in his hands unable to form any responses to her words he devolving into moans and groans as she continued to stroke him her lips and tongue soothing the nip to his neck.

He grunted his cock twitching his orgasm hitting him harder than he’d anticipated his head falling back his eyes practically rolling into the back of his head. He felt her name spill from his lips his accent growing thicker praises spilling from him as ropes of cum spilled from him coating her hand and his stomach. “Fuckin’ shite, oh, Hen. My Lass. Fuck, yes. Fuckin’ perfect, makin me cum. Wish it was in ya, fuck.”

She stroked him through his release a moan leaving her lips at the sight of him so lost in pleasure and the evidence of that pleasure spilling onto her hand.

He whined as he came down from his end the light stroke to his oversensitive cock too much.

She reluctantly pulled away he panting towards the ceiling his body shaking and damp with sweat.

He turned his head, meeting her gaze a groan leaving him as she brought her hand up to her lips, her tongue peeking out to taste the release coated along her skin she moaning at the salty taste of him.

He groaned at the action, his hand pulling her fingers from her lips, his lips pressing to hers.

He kissed her deeply, his hand pressing to the back of her head keeping her there. He reluctantly pulled away from her his voice drowsy. “Gonna be the fuckin’ death of me if ya keep bein this perfect, Mo ghràidh.”

She giggled at the comment not helping but to tease him. “Good thing I have caskets downstairs huh?”

He rolled his eyes, his hand reaching down to her backside giving it a playful swat. She gasped, jumping slightly at the action. She spoke her voice a mix of scolding and playfulness. “Filip.”

“Don’ bury me yet, Love. Still got life in me.” He remarked his body feeling heavy and relaxed.

She shook her head giving his shoulder a playful nudge. “You better go clean up before you pass out. Buddy. I am not sleeping pressed to you if you’ve got dried Chibs juice on you.”

He snorted at the comment a huff leaving him. “Aye, things I do fer ya.”

She shook her head, reaching out to find a tissue to clean her own hand as she watched him pull from her bed.

She smirked lust washing over her as she admired his backside as he disappeared into the master bathroom shutting the door behind him.

She was pleased to find that his backside was just as much of a gorgeous sight sans clothing.

She relaxed against the bed tossing the tissue into the wastebasket by the bed satisfied her hand was clean enough.

Chibs cleaned himself up as thoroughly as he could, losing his undershirt as it hit him; he'd definitely spilled his release far enough to hit the article of clothing.

He left the room not ashamed to be completely nude not helping but to look forward to any hint of lust that might be on her features at the sight of him totally bare.

He was only somewhat disappointed to find her fast asleep as he reentered the bedroom. He felt a sense of comfort hit him at the sight hoping that she would find a more restful sleep than she had moments ago.

He found his boxers within the bed sliding them back on before he slid back into bed beside her.

He scooted close to her his arms wrapping around her torso, his head resting close to hers. He spoke a surprising statement leaving his lips as sleep began to sink in. “I love ya, Hen.”

He was too exhausted and far too satisfied with what they’d just done to consider the statement that had left him too hard.

His heart screamed though that he was certain of his words. He loved her.

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chibs rolled his eyes at the low whistle that left Juice’s lips at the clear love bites pressed into Chibs’ neck. Y/N had not been subtle about her choice in placement of hickies and he knew he had not entirely been subtle in his choices either.

Juice leaned in examining the darkened marks visible under the collar of Chibs’ black shirt and his kutte. “Y/N did that?”

“Ya shoul’ see her neck.” Chibs commented knowing he would not go into any greater detail than that.

He sat back at the bar satisfied enough with the little bit of bragging he’d done. He knew he’d never share any of the details about Y/N. He was quite sure she’d embalm him alive if he got too vocal about their bedroom activities. He figured he could get away with bragging about his own sexual prowess though. 

“If she didn’t scare the shit out of me, I’d ask if she has any sisters or cousins.” Juice commented Chibs smirking at the words as he sat back at the bar in the Sons’ clubhouse.

He spoke, raising a brow. “My lass scares ya? Sweet wee thing like her scares ya?”

“She told me where the blood goes in an embalming, dude. Shit is spooky,” Juice shuddered remembering the conversation that had happened at the fairground the night before.

Chibs smirked, eager to respond, making Juice shudder all the more. “Aye into the sewer.”

Juice groaned, shaking his head. “Shit, I do not want to be a fly on the wall in you twos private conversations.”

Chibs smirked all the more tempted to prod Juice all the more but held back as Jax Teller entered the clubhouse.

Chibs sighed pulling from the bar knowing a serious talk was needed between his vice pres. and he.

He spoke nodding his head. “Jackie Boy, can we talk?”

Jax nodded off towards his Chapel having the feeling Chibs wanted to talk about something that he didn’t want Juice’s ears lingering around to hear.

The Scot followed Jax into the room, the doors shutting behind them giving them a sense of privacy.  

They both sat at the reaper table in their usual spots, Chibs letting out a sigh knowing he had to jump into this right away. “Gunner ran into Y/N at the fairgrounds last night.”

“Shit, fucking asshole. How’s she doing?” Jax dared to ask his jaw tensing at the news. He’d been dreading this possibility the moment Y/N had become once again entangled with SAMCRO. 

Chibs shook his head, his fists clenching. “As alrigh’ as she can be. Fuckin terrified her seein him.”

Jax cringed at the comment he daring to speak. “I’m guessing this wasn’t just him being his usual shithead self in front of a woman. From your reaction, I’m guessing she filled you in on the background with him?”

“Aye.” Chibs snapped, taking a deep breath, his eyes crossing over the sign proudly displayed on the chapel wall. Brains Before Bullets.

Jax shook his head, a heavy sigh leaving him, he pulling a cigarette from his kutte pocket lighting it. “Shit was awful. They were this destructive force together. I tried my best to keep him away from her and to talk her out of being stuck to him…but you know how stubborn she is. She was even worse at nineteen.”

“She told me everything.” Chibs blurted out reaching into his own kutte pulling out a cigarette of his own.

Chibs spoke again gripping down onto his cigarette so tight it almost snapped in half. “He fuckin violated er more than once back then. Did ya fuckin know bout that?”

Jax grimaced, shaking his head. “I knew the sex was rough. Gunner loves to brag. If I’d known she…If I ever knew he forced himself on her, I swear I would have killed him.”

Chibs was tempted to say the words What about now? Would you kill him now? I would.

He kept the statement in not having a chance to say the words as Jax spoke. “Shit back then was a blur, Chibs. She was a mess…shit with her brother. I think she was in self destruction mode. She was so young…she loved her brother and he loved the hell out of her. He complained about how much she followed him around, but if anyone else said a word he’d beat their face in. The accident took him from her mentally at least. I felt like I owed it to her and him to let her work shit out. I enabled her. I’ll own up to that. I felt guilty. Ope and I are the ones who encouraged her brother to get that Harley, more me than Opie. After the accident, I blamed myself as much as she blamed me. In my own fucked up way I thought letting her work out her pain in the clubhouse was the right move. If I had been able to predict Gunner, then I would have told her to get the fuck out of my face that very first night she showed up blaming me for her brother’s accident.”

Chibs spoke, taking a long drag of his cigarette, the words harsh. “I want to fuckin kill Gunner. I know I can’t. Shite would bite me in the arse.”

Jax sighed nodding his head in agreement. A member of one charter murdering a member of another charter would likely result in a Mayhem vote towards the killer. 

If Chibs killed Gunner and it was found out, Chibs would most likely be killed in retaliation. 

Chibs spoke venting out loud talking more to himself than to Jax. “What kind of fuckin man am I if I let him live knowin he violated the woman I love? I don’ care how long ago it was or how fuckin determined she was to destroy herself. I know he hurt her and I know he’d do it again if he was given the chance.”

Jax widened his eyes not missing the word love.

He chose not to address it quick to speak trying to break Chibs out of his vocal inner dialogue. “Then we don’t let him ever be alone with her. Anytime he shows up in Charming, we’re going to make sure those two never cross paths…not without you or me around. The rest of SAMCRO will look out for her too. Her being a business association of the club protects her alone…you being with her guarantees it.”

Chibs let out a shaky breath, his words tense. “I can’t promise I won’t beat the shite out of him on sigh’ if he’s even in the same room with her Jackie. I see him an all I see is red. All I can think bout is him violatin’ her…He bruised her damn wrist at the fairground…if he was willin to do tha’ in public…If I didn’t know wha’ he did to her in private…I’d shudder at imagining it.”

He gazed down at the lit cigarette in his hand remembering his statement to her when she told him about Gunner. If he’d known her back then…he had not finished the sentence yet he knew what he’d say.

His heart screamed he would have protected her had he known her back then. She would have been cherished by him. He would have appreciated her and shown her how to channel her pain without harming herself. He would have fallen for her.

A more sensible part of him knew he was damaged by his past so thoroughly when he first arrived in Charming. That sensible part of his mind told him he would have been so lost in his own misery he might not have had it in him to take on hers. He would have been in no shape to play protector. Perhaps they would have destroyed one another due to their own fear and anguish. Perhaps they would have just used one another to avoid facing their misery. Perhaps they could have been toxic for one another.

His heart battled that thought though the over romantic organ insistent she would have been good for soothing his misery and he would have been good to her. He would have worshipped her making it known mistreatment of her would be met with violence against anyone who laid a finger on her. They would have not destroyed one another the way his mind insisted but instead would have healed each other.

Being by her side now felt so healing. He felt lighter than he’d felt in years. She didn’t make him feel like the dirty damaged outlaw. He felt like Filip who loved deeply and protected those he trusted.

Jax was fast to speak, providing reassurance. “If it comes down to that, you’ll have my support. I think you’ll be justified to knock him out for what happened at the fairground alone. You throwing any punch his way is going to be seen as you defending your ol’ lady.”

The comment about Y/N being his ol lady only brought a small sense of warmth to him, his anguish and rage towards Gunner casting a shadow over what should be such a delightful statement.

“Aye, I’ll defend her. I’d kill fer her Jax. I offered to kill the prick las’ nigh’ and ya know what she said?” Chibs blurted out, taking another drag from his cigarette.

He spoke again before Jax had a chance to reply. “She tol’ me that me killin him would bite me in the arse. She fuckin’ knew how that shite would go down with the club, without even havin to be told. She jus’ knew how our world works.I hate tha’ she’s righ’. She’s too damn clever…makes too much sense even when I’m pissed off.”

Jax shook his head fast to speak. “She’s always been clever.”

Chibs cringed knowing he needed to say the words. He wouldn’t be able to push it from his mind until he cleared the air. “She mentioned her past with ya.”

Jax cringed at the comment knowing that it the conversation was unavoidable. He’d known it would come up the second Chibs started to get close with the local undertaker.

Jax spoke knowing he had to lie it out on the table. “We had fun…when we weren’t arguing…which was most of the time. We argued about everything. I was a prick and she was mouthy. She was angry and I was nursing a broken heart. It wasn’t love, you don’t have to worry about that. We were a good distraction for each other. I never meant for it to go in that direction. At first I just wanted to let her vent about her brother. She seemed like she needed a friend or at least someone who let her talk without judging her.  I think we were both caught up in our own problems…our grief over her brother, our mixed feelings about our legacies, and other bullshit. We worked shit out on each other. The sex was good, but we weren’t committed to anything deeper than just fucking each other. I wasn’t looking to make her anything more than a friend who I occasionally hooked up with and she wasn’t looking to be my ol lady. I’m sure my mom would have loved her to be my ol lady…but I wasn’t interested. I’m still not. Trust me, brother. I know she’s yours. I have zero interest in pursuing anything with her and I know the feelings are mutual on her end.”

Chibs let out a shaky breath, his heart lifting at the words I know she’s yours.

He couldn’t ignore the possessive little voice that piped up in the back of his head. Yes she is.

Jax spoke again, a sigh leaving him. “She leaving Charming was what she needed. She was going to wind up dead if she stayed here…especially with Gunner. I worried about her getting so deep back into SAMCRO. She doing okay?”

“I’m takin care of her. I ain’ goin to let nothin happen to her.” Chibs insisted not wanting to spill his guts about her nightmares or the sense of guilt she felt over what she’d done for the club.

That was not his secret to share. Sharing that would be a betrayal of her trust in him. 

He spoke needing to say the words he knowing that what he'd said to her the night before as she slept was not just his orgasm talking. His heart screamed that he meant it. “I love her."

He cleared his throat he fast to speak again. "I'm crazy bout er, Jackie Boy. I will make sure she never has the need to leave Charming ever again.”

Jax nodded his head, Chibs almost certain he spotted a hint of relief in the younger man’s eyes.

He spoke a heavy sigh leaving him. “I know she’s not my biggest fan…but I do still care about her as a friend. I know she’s in good hands with you. I’ll do what I can to help you any way I can when it comes to Gunner.”

Chibs let out a sigh of relief nodding his head. “Aye, I appreciate that.”

He stared back up the sign on the chapel wall. Brains Before Bullets.

He knew just putting a bullet in Gunner’s skull was not the answer. 

He would have to be smarter than that. 

==============================================================

If anyone had told Y/N just a year ago that she would find herself walking arm and arm with a member of SAMCRO down Main Street, sharing a bag of candy, she might fear she had encountered someone who was quite delusional.

Here she was though walking with Chibs arm linked with hers a bag of chocolates in her hand they shared them as they strolled past shop windows.

Chibs spoke, popping a piece of candy into his mouth. “I use ta steal chocolates from the petrol station when I was a wee lad…that and dirty magazines when I firs realized jus how appealin lasses were.”

She chuckled at the comment, it taking her off guard. “You had sticky fingers?”

“Aye, Christ. If my poor Ma had known she’d have skinned me alive.” Chibs commented a chuckle leaving his lips.

“I imagine so, especially with the titty mags.” She remarked a shaking laugh spilling from his lips.

He spoke, shaking his head. “Aye woulda been drug down to the local Priest by my Ma. Woulda been given so many Hail Marys I woulda had to have been raised in a confession booth.”

She replied to this comment giving his hip a playful nudge as they walked. “So I’m taking it you weren’t a good Catholic boy?”

“I tried…I maybe lied a wee bit in confession sometimes though. Figured some shite is better off between me and God alone…Father Anderson didn’ need to be part of that conversation.” Chibs admitted knowing he probably was considered to be a poor catholic as an adult. He’d not been to confession since he’d lived in Belfast.

He spoke a small sigh leaving him. “My poor Ma…both er kids went astray. She was a good Catholic lass. Cait was less bad than me. She was a wee bit more obedient. Her son though…he’s all his Uncle Filip.”

“You have a nephew?” Y/N dared to ask not helping but to soak up every story Chibs told her about his immediate family though she’d always got the sense it brought up a hint of sorrow in him.

“Aye, Padriac. He adored me growin up. I used to visit Cait and him…make the trip out with some cash and we’d have a wee party, good food and drinks. His da…my sister’s ex, fuckin bastard was a wee bit too much like our Da. Cared more bout the bottle than his family until he disappeared. My Da was older than my Ma when they got together…too damn old to be messin round with a lass er age. My Ma was sweet as can be, loyal heart and tender. She was a saint. She was stern with me and Cait when we needed it but she had a soft soul. She put up with too much from my prick of a Da, and when he left no one missed him. He was a fuckin brute. We were glad to see him leave. Our Ma died a few years after Padriac was born…Cait and I were the only family each other had. After I patched into SAMBEL I visited more. Padriac  followed in my footsteps ya know? Prospected fer SAMBEL. Pretty sure he’s been patched in now. He’s bout twenty seven now. He was a teenager last I saw him but he was a handsome lad. Got those Telford genes, tall and dark headed. He’s got that Telford mischievous spirit. He’s a good lad. I love him to death and miss him more than ya know. Made me proud when I heard through the grapevine that he patched in to SAMBEL jus like me.” Chibs recalled, she not helping but to adore the fondness in his voice as he spoke about both his sister and his nephew.

She picked up on the comment about his father and his mother. She guessed that explained some of the sorrow that she sensed when he discussed his mother. 

She spoke not helping but to tease him. “So, from what I’m hearing…there’s a younger Telford out there? Crap, I could have gotten a younger model.”

He let out a huff giving her backside a swat not caring if they were in public a laugh leaving her along with a slight squeal.

She buried her face against his arm, a little embarrassed as her squeal caught the attention of a passing man.

Chibs smirked, wrapping an arm around her waist, his voice low, a hint of husk in his voice. “Ya weren’t complainin bout my age when I ate yer pussy the other nigh? Think ya were too busy cummin on my tongue to say much of anythin legible.”

She felt her cheeks flush all the darker as she gazed up at him, his lips pressing to hers he tasting like chocolate and a sense of adoration.

She spoke her voice soft as he pulled from the kiss. “Don’t have any complaints about the older model I got.”

She paused, unable to stop herself. “I have always liked antiques.”

He snorted at the comment, giving her backside another swat, choosing to keep his arm wrapped around her waist as they continued to make their way down main street.

They were unaware of the eyes watching them from within a nearby diner.

Agent June Stahl watched the Scottish Son and the mysterious young woman with avid interest. 

She’d not been expecting to spot a Son walking down Main Street when she stopped for a bite to eat the Charming Police Station feeling far too stuffy and Deputy Hale feeling far too suffocating.

She watched the pair as they stopped in front of a shop window the Scot leaning down to say something that the young woman found humorous judging by how her head fell back she clearly giggling. Stahl studied the pair as the Son’s lips pressed to his companion’s they making it clear they did not shy away from PDA. It was an odd sight; the rough looking forty something year old biker and the young elegant looking woman wearing a black dress that could only be described as prim. 

She had a feeling judging by their interactions and the way the Scot was staring down at her with devotion that she was no croweater. She looked a little too polished to be a biker groupie. No, the way the Scotsman was staring at his companion screamed ol lady.

She spoke as her waitress refilled her cup of coffee. “Who is that young woman over there? The girl in the black dress across the street?”

The much older waitress who wore a name tag stating her name was Pearl rose a brow, she looking hesitant to speak up about anyone walking hand and hand with a member of SAMCRO.

Stahl resisted the urge to roll her eyes, having taken notice of the residents' hesitance to say much about SAMCRO. The MC had a hold on most of the residents of the town.

Pearl apparently decided her need to gossip was more tempting than the need to stay mum about SAMCRO. “That’s Y/N Y/L/N. She owns Y/L/N and Sons Funeral Home. Her dad died a few months back. She inherited the family business. It’s a good thing she took over since she is the only available heir to do so. She has a brother but the poor dear hasn’t been the same since his motorcycle accident about a decade ago. He’s out in some institution in Lodi allegedly. Poor dear just isn’t right in the head, such a shame. Y/N came back to town for her father’s funeral and stayed. She was living out somewhere else for a while…out east somewhere. I don’t like to gossip but she had a wild streak about a decade ago…got into a lot of trouble, gave her poor dad a time. She seems to have cleaned her act up though…not her taste in men it looks like, but she’s grown up a lot…to be honest, she’s always been a peculiar girl…never quite fit in and didn’t seem to even try to, but she’s running the funeral home now. She seems good at her job at least even with as strange as she’s always been. She made the funeral home look real nice.”

Stahl raised a brow at the information. A funeral director who just happened to be walking down main street with a known criminal?

Stahl frowned, tempted to point out that this Y/N didn’t seem to have cleaned up her act too much if she was buddying up to a member of SAMCRO.

She held in the comment though making a mental note of this young woman.

If she had a wild streak there might be a police record there. Stahl was interested to find that she might just have another SAMCRO ol lady to look into. 

#chibs telford #sons of anarchy #chibs telford fanfiction #chibs sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy fanfiction #chibs #chibs telford smut #chibs x reader #chibs telford fanfic #chibs telford x reader #filip telford #death and the lady #chapter eleven

[ravennaortiz]

Your Boyfriend is a Bitch headcanon SOA version

Summary: How the guys would react if they overheard some guy hitting on you and telling that your boyfriend is a bitch. Inspiration came from the song below.

Tag List: @keyweegirlie @hatersaremymotivators @meera10 @youngadult9016 @littlefrogbrain

Our sweet Juice is amused at first that goofy grin plastered on his face as he sips his beer. He figures it was obvious that you are with him since the guy literally stepped in between you two as you guys were sitting and talking at the clubhouses bar. Guy must just be to caught up in how beautiful his Old Lady is. Then he hears the guy tell you that your boyfriend is a bitch and he could take him. "Alright buddy" laughs Juice that goofy grin slipping into a tight smile as he grabs his shoulder. Slipping off the stool he steers the guy out the door. "Be back in a bit babe" he calls over his shoulder to you.

"Surprise surprise he couldn't take me. Guess you are stuck with me" states Juice smugly as he rejoins you giving you a kiss on the forehead.

Chibs has grown used to the "youngins" hitting on you and such. He used to be quick to swing but your calming nature had him using patience and words a little more often now than his fist. This time though he puts the young man through one of the tables. It's hard to say whose more shocked between the three of you. "Think you can do her better Laddie?" Chibs chuckles darkly as he shakes his head at the trembling man under him. "Why don't you join me and my Ole Lady here in the bedroom. One of us can learn some pointers".

Happy turned away from the pool table when he heard the new prospects response to your decline of a date. Your wide eyed expression, tight smile and nervous chuckle when his eyes met yours told him he had in fact heard the idiot correctly. It was nothing to the prospects expression as he turned to see who you were looking at. Happy simply rolled his toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other for a moment before speaking. "I'm her bitch boyfriend.

Jax is swinging fists before the guy knows what is happening. He demands the guy to answer him between every hard blow. "Think I'm still a bitch?" Are you blind? Couldn't see her crow? The ring?" "Did you miss my arm around her waist?". Jax only relents when Chibs and Opie pull him off the guy. Without another word he pulls you to the dorm hallway to relieve some more of his anger in a more enjoyable way.

Half-Sack is quick to be in the guys face. Newly patched he feels he has a lot to prove still. He makes it clear he doesn't need a gun to win a fight. Which does not last long and leaves the guy hitting on you knocked out and being dragged out of the clubhouse by Happy.

At first Tig thinks you and Kozik are playing a joke on him when you two tell him what happened inside while you were getting a drink. The two of you loved to rile him up and play jokes on him. He also can't wrap his mind around who in their right mind would tell his gorgeous, pregnant wife that she could do better and they could do her better. Especially not after you two had been together for ten years. The tears that start to well up though have him up on his feet and inside, dragging the man out by his kutte. Once he gets your nod of confirmation he pulls him toward the ring.

Opie while usually level headed and one to think things through before reacting. Can't help but to punch the guy in his face before he can even get his sentence out. While he agrees with the guy that you can in fact do better than an outlaw biker, no one else gets to say it.

Kozik would have let it slide. Being called a bitch and stuff did not bother him. What bothered him was how uncomfortable you got and how the guy would not back off. The quiet whisper of his government name from your lips had him grabbing the offending guy into a chokehold and yanking him out of the clubhouse to teach him a lesson on respect.

Rat had his teeth gritted as he served drinks from behind the bar. Still being a prospect he was limited on what he could do to a patched member, let alone the VP of another visiting charter. "You have my permission to handle that" stated Jax as he came around the bar, having heard what was happening. Rat nodded his head in appreciation before yanking the guy over the bar top. There were perks to dating the sister of the mother charters President.

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#Spotify #ravennasmasterlist #sons of anarchy #soa fanfic #soa fandom #soa fanfics #soa headcanon #soa headcanons #soa imagine #soa imagines #juice ortiz #happy lowman #chibs telford #tig trager #half sack epps #opie winston #herman kozik #soa ratboy #jax teller

[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.”

#chibs telford #chibs telford smut #chibs telford drabble #chibs telford imagine #chibs telford x female reader #chibs telford x you #chibs telford fanfiction #chibs telford fanfic #chibs telford fic #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy fanfiction #sons of anarchy smut #sons of anarchy fanfic #sons of anarchy fic #sons of anarchy drabble #soa #soa fanfiction #soa smut #soa fanfic #soa fic

[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

#sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy x reader #happy lowman #happy lowman soa #happy lowman x reader #sons of anarchy smut #happy lowman x you #chibs telford #chibs telford x reader #chibs x you #happy lowman imagine #happy lowman smut #tig trager x reader #tig trager imagine #tig trager #stranger things smut #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #dmitri antonov fanfic #dmitri antonov x you #dmitri antonov smut #dmitri antonov x reader #dmitri antonov #juice ortiz #juice ortiz smut #juice ortiz x reader #opie winston #sons of anarchy imagine #chibs sons of anarchy

[drabbles-mc]

Enjoy Yourself

Chibs Telford x F!Reader

Request by @1witch-hybrid1​: you and chibs are at a club party and a slow song just came on (preferably 'you make it easy' by Justin Aldean) and you guys just start to slow dance and it just goes on

Warnings: 18+, alcohol, fluffiness

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: I did tweak this just a little bit, but I hope you still enjoy it! Also, as much as I love me some Jason Aldean, I didn’t mention any songs specifically just for the sake of people being able to sort of picture what they want. Chibs is one character that I always get anxious about writing so I hope this came out okay!

SOA Taglist: @masterlistforimagines @espieviolet99 @mijop @chibsytelford @thanossexual @xladymacbethx @i-just-read-stuff @lilah1903 @bport76 @toni9 @unicornucopia-fuckers @buckybarneshairpullingkink @shadow-of-wonder @punkgoddess-98 @paintballkid711 @black-repunzel99 @lexondeck @jitterbugs927 @fanfic-n-tabulous @mijagif @frattsparty @winchestershiresauce @bellisperennis0 @crowfootwrites @redpoodlern @beardburnsupersoldiers @mveggieburger @xeniarocks @choochoo284 @littlekittymeow​ @beardsanddetectives​ @bruxasolta​ @i-love-scott-mccall​ @be-my-dear​ @withmyteeth​ @flacalatke​ @passionatewrites​ @garbinge​ (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, let me know!)

It had been a relatively tame night at the clubhouse, as far as clubhouse nights go. It was a somewhat reasonable hour still when all the guys had either gone home or stumbled off to their dorms. It was a rarity, and you were going to take advantage of it while you could. You switched the music over to your own playlist, wanting a break from the music that had been pounding into your skull all night. It was fitting when everyone was there and partying, but when it was just you trying to clean up after the fact, you wanted something a little different to help you start to wind down.

Garbage bag in hand, you started making your way around and collecting up the scattered cans and bottles around the clubhouse. Parties may have been extenuating circumstances, but the fact that hardly any of these men seemed capable of finding a garbage can all night made you wonder what state their houses were in. Shaking your head to dispel the thoughts, you let your mind finally start to slow down for the first time all night. Cleaning wasn’t your favorite part of the night, but it was one of the easiest parts.

You were humming along, nodding your head to the beat as you picked up a few more empty beer bottles. You were too in your own zone to notice the fact that someone walked out from back hall. Chibs moseyed out from the hallway that joined the clubhouse to all of the dorms. He’d originally just been coming out to get himself a bottle of water to try and balance out everything else from the night. He hadn’t been expecting the softer music, or you. He moved quietly to the kitchen to get a drink, not wanting to disturb you.

The sound of the refrigerator closing was what clued you in to someone else being there. Turning around, you couldn’t help but be a little surprised to see Chibs standing in the doorway watching you. You could see the tiredness in his features, but he was still smiling at you nonetheless.

“Thought you’d be asleep by now,” you joked as you tossed one more bottle into the bag in your hand.

“And I thought you’d be home,” shifting off the doorframe, he walked closer to you.

You laughed, your face already getting warm from the small handful of words shared between you. You shook your head as you tied off and dropped the bag in your hand, sitting on the arm of the couch as he walked closer to you.

“Some of us can’t just take off whenever we feel like it,” your smile was tired but genuine.

“You ever really want to take off that bad?” there was a knowing smirk on his face.

You rolled your eyes, “Believe it or not, sometimes I would love to be home in bed buried underneath as many blankets as possible.”

He stopped right in front of you, much closer than the two of you had ever been, especially when you were alone. The more you thought about it, the more you realized that you weren’t sure if the two of you had really ever been alone before, not like this anyway. There was always so many people around. Not now, though. And as you looked up at him from your sitting position, all the feelings bubbling in your chest were reinforcing that fact. He wasn’t even touching you yet but your heart was thudding in your chest, wondering what he was thinking, what was going to happen next.

“Leave now then,” he nodded towards the door but his eyes stayed fixed on you, “Promise I won’t tell on ya.”

You laughed and shook your head, “Not that I don’t appreciate that, but I might as well finish what I started.”

“C’mon,” he held his hand out for you to take, “take a break, then.”

You chuckled, trying not to come off as jittery as you felt as his hand wrapped around yours, “And do what?”

“Enjoy yourself,” he pulled you off the couch and nearly flush against him, “for once.”

You laughed, hating how breathless you sounded from nothing, “I enjoy myself plenty, thank you very much.”

He raised one eyebrow, clearly not believing a single word you said, “Don’t gotta lie to me, love.”

You were fairly certain that if he held eye contact with you any longer you were going to melt directly into the floor, “Got a more enjoyable way for me to spend my time at this hour, then?”

His lips curled into a smile as he tugged you closer, erasing what little distance was left between you, “Sure.”

You weren’t able to stifle the giggle that slipped past your lips as he slipped his arms around your waist, one hand resting flat against the small of your back to keep you pressed against him. Following his lead, you draped your arms over his shoulders, hands interlocking behind his neck. You’d never thought of Chibs as much of a dancer, and you’d thought of him plenty, but the way he so easily pulled you in had you rethinking some things.

As if he could read your mind, he asked, “What?”

You laughed nervously, shaking your head, “Didn’t have you pegged as the whisking girls off to dance in the middle of the night type, I guess.”

“Why’s that?” the tiny smile tugging at the edges of his mouth was making your heart flutter.

“I, uh,” your eyes dropped to the floor, finding it hard to focus on trying to have any semblance of rhythm while also looking at him and carrying on any kind of conversation, “I don’t know.”

He chuckled, “Would’ve asked you sooner if I got the chance to.”

That got you to look back up at him, “Yea?”

He nodded, “See you dancing by yerself behind the bar all the time when you work.”

Your face felt like it was on fire, “Didn’t think any of you guys paid attention.”

“I do.”

You weren’t even aware of what you were doing as you started to nervously play with the ends of his hair. You idly twirled the locks at the nape of his neck, just needing something to fidget with, and he could tell by the look in your eyes that you didn’t realize that you were doing it. He wasn’t upset about it, wasn’t going to mention it to you in fear that you’d stop. Neither of you said anything after that, the only noise in the clubhouse now was the sound of your music.

As the seconds stretched into minutes, you expected it to get awkward, uncomfortable, but it didn’t. Much to your surprise, you found yourself easing into him, resting against him as the two of you swayed. Every now and then you’d feel his thumb going back and forth against the small of your back. Even with the butterflies in your stomach, being held that closely and gently by Chibs felt comfortable, felt right. There were a couple times when you wanted to say something, but you didn’t want to ruin the moment.

The song started to fade out, and as the next one began to play, Chibs leaned back to be able to get a better look at you. There was a hint of a smile on his face, “Not a bad break, right?”

Your laugh was soft, “Not bad at all. In fact,” you slid your hands so that they rested on his shoulders, “I have time for one more if you do.”

He chuckled, “’Course I do.”

Taking one of your hands in his own, he stepped back away from you. Confusion crossed your face for a moment as he put the distance between you. It disappeared quickly, however, when a smile broke out across his face and he gave you a twirl before pulling you right back into him again. Laughing, you melted right back into him, hands resting lightly on the sides of his neck.

“Chibs?”

“Yea?”

You smiled, thumbs gently moving along the side of his neck, “Thank you.”

“No,” he smiled as he shook his head, “I should be thankin’ you.”

You laughed, “For what?”

“Lettin’ a guy like me,” he moved one hand up so it was cupping the side of your face, “dance with a beautiful lass like you.”

You tried to laugh but it came out soft, breathless as heat flared up in your face, “Chibs…” your voice trailed off, not really sure what you wanted to say next.

Your eyes dropped to the floor and Chibs immediately stopped swaying with you. Tilting your chin so you were forced to look at him, he said, “What is it?”

“Nothing,” you wanted to look away but you couldn’t. You were fairly certain that he could hear the pounding of your heartbeat.

“’s not a crime to enjoy yourself, y’know.”

You managed a smile despite your nerves creeping back in, “I know.”

“Alright,” there was a hint of a smirk on his face.

You tried not to think yourself out of a good thing, “Spin me again?”

He laughed nodding, “Of course.”

You laughed as he gave you another twirl, the action coming to him so easily. When he pulled you back to him, there was a long pause as the two of you looked at each other, smiles on both your faces. He was waiting to see what your next move would be, and if you were being honest with yourself, you were wondering that too.

You didn’t know when you were going to have the opportunity again, so before you could try and think better of it, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his. It was soft, and over almost as soon as it started. But you did it. Pulling back, you looked to see his reaction, relief flooding through you when you saw him smiling.

“C’mere,” there was a tinge of humor in his voice as he pulled you back in for another, longer kiss.

You couldn’t help the laughter that was bubbling in your chest, reveling in the feeling of his arms wrapping tighter around you. Your hands were still cupping both sides of his face when you pulled your lips off of his. You smiled, “Should’ve asked me for a dance a long time ago.”

He chuckled, shaking his head, “Oh yea?”

You nodded, biting down on your bottom lip for a moment, “Yea.”

Pressing another quick peck to your lips, he said, “Gotta make up for it, then.”

#soa #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy imagine #soa imagine #chibs telford #filip telford #chibs telford x reader #chibs telford x you #chibs telford fanfic #chibs telford fluff #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

[lanadelray-gurl]

Just starting re watching sons of anarchy prepare….

#sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy fanfiction #jax teller #tig trager #juice ortiz #opie winston #chibs telford #fem reader #fanfics #jax teller x reader #tig trager x reader #juice ortiz x reader #opie winston x reader #chibs telford x reader

[willowsages-blog]

Unexpected visitor: chibs telford x female reader

It was lunchtime you were in the car with your toddler,

You placed her in the front seat with the car parked in the parking lot,

Giving her a few napkins in the rear view you could see someone driving a motorcycle

Chibs pulled into the parking spot on your daughter's side.

You made eye contact with him, a smiling form.

“Daddy” she cried out, as he opened the door pulling her into a soft embrace

He sat in her spot, placing her on his lap. Chibs grinned, looking over at You, placing a kiss on your lips.

#chibs telford x reader #chibs telford #sons of anarchy x reader #multi fandom blog #fanfic #oneshot #character x reader #chibs x reader