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witching-hour · 4 years

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Love on Hold [Jax Teller x Reader]

(A/N): was feeling angsty after watching a montage of clips from season six of jara — their worst and most heartbreaking season. this is based on the last episode of season 5 and includes season 6 elements which had not taken place yet, so bare with my little au. this rewrite really went from 1379 words to 2777 words

SUMMARY: the reader confronts jax about his questionable actions towards wendy and reveals her plans about leaving charming

TW: usual soa violence, s5 + s6 spoilers, character death

UNSHED tears of disbelief and anger clouded your vision, making you blink them back, looking away from your husband who had blatantly lied to your face. You didn’t want to believe what you knew, but the evidence was laying out in front of you, and you couldn’t just ignore the facts.

You saw how these past few months of overturned leadership has changed him. The gavel corrupts, Bobby once warned you after voicing your concerns about Jax’s new position with SAMCRO. Be prepared for anything, sweetheart. It ain’t goin’ to be easy.

You knew that his warning was not misguided or out of line. You saw what being president had done to JT and Clay. You knew with ‘great power came great responsibility.’ Jax would carry a heavier weight than he did when he was VP. He might have to make calls that may seem questionable as he will be faced with hard decisions that he won’t want to make, but will have to for the sake of his club. And with him as president, it made you the new queen of SAMCRO. He would be away from home more, leaving you to really step up to the plate as the First Lady.

You also had new responsibilities, which could be counted as benefits or drawbacks. You were not the VP’s Old Lady – you were the Prez’s. As Jax carried a heavier weight, you would too.

Jax may have been a bad boy – an outlaw, but he had a heart of gold. And that heart is what made you fall in love with him in the first place.

Your husband had confided in you when he got out of prison about how he wanted out of outlaw and wanted more for his kids than a life of chaos and danger. After the past couple years of shit the club had faced, especially the events of Belfast, you understood where he was coming from because you felt the same way. However, you were wary, mostly seeing it as post prison blues. All Jax knew was outlaw, it was in his DNA. Charming was his home and the Son’s was his family. You knew that Jax wanted to push the club in a different direction, a more legitimate one. It was going to take a lot of time and effort to do so, but you and many of the members believed that Jax would be the one to turn the club around.

You voiced your opinions, but Jax made it clear he wanted to be a better man for you and his sons. Too much blood had been spilt, and the club lost its way. Eventually you were on board. But things went south in your plan to get out of Charming. As you had dreaded but knew deep down it was inevitable. With the club and Gemma, how were you even going to be able to make it to the town’s border?

When Jax informed you of the CIA meddling in a case with the Galindo Cartel and them needing SAMCRO to continue the supplying of guns, or they’d push for the R.I.C.O. case they just finally gotten off their backs, you knew Clay had left one huge unfuckable mess behind to his stepson and future president.

With the CIA pulling the strings, Jax was stuck in between a rock and a hard place. While he wanted better for the club and pull it out from the darkness it’s been submerged in for so long, he would put the whole club and his family in jeopardy if he caused the CIA problems and got R.I.C.O. dangling over their heads again. He was keeping too many secrets from the table between the CIA’s involvement, the letters from his father about Clay’s betrayal, and Piney’s real murderer.

Then Opie was killed

– and Jax lost a piece of himself along with him.

Something in Jax had changed. He grew cold and detached. You tried to pull him from the darkness, but he was turning into a shell of who he once was. Jax was slipping and everyone saw it. The minute Bobby realized he wasn’t getting through to the man he saw as his own, he pulled out of SAMCRO and joined the Nomads; making Chibs VP and Happy the new Sergeant in Arms. Eventually Bobby came back after recruiting some Nomads and helping bring his prez back into his own skin. And for a while the Jackson you knew was back, but then he started slipping again.

He had all the power and not the first clue on how to deal with it.

Meanwhile all this was going on, you had tried to be there for him, but there was only so much you could do. He had found it less and less to come and confide in you. The agreement of full disclosure no longer existed between you and Jax. Your titles as an Old Lady and wife ceased to have meaning. Jax only ever kept you at arm’s length.

With full disclosure thrown out the window and secrets being kept and lies more common than none, who knows what other promises he made he failed to upkeep?

No lies.

No secrets.

No hurting women.

No infidelity.

You could cross at least three off that list.

He sat across from you at the kitchen table, watching as your jaw clenched and eyes glazed over. His eyebrows pinched together in bewilderment at your clear display of emotions; disappointment, anger, disbelief. He watched as you fought to keep the tears at bay. Your irises flickered up to the ceiling, growing wide as you blinked a few times, they finally met his laid-back figure in the wooden chair.

“Wendy showed up at my job earlier today – a complete wreck – frantic, clothes disheveled, hair a mess, anxiety practically seeping out of her pores…She accused me of putting you up to what you did. I didn’t understand what the hell she was talking about at first. I didn’t even know you went to her place last night, so I covered for you, just in case you were stuck with club business last night, and, boy, was I wrong.” The realization dawned on him as you spoke, shame stretching across his sharp features. His eyes closed briefly, and his head tilted up as his jaw clenched, anger simmering on the surface. You just couldn’t tell if it was from you finding out about it or him actually committing the act. Your guess was both.

“She’s been sober – she’s been clean for four years. How could you of all people take that away from her?” You scoffed, not even bothering to let him answer if he even had one. He didn’t. “Hell, Jax, you were the one supporting her when she was laid up in the hospital. When Gemma was telling her to kill herself, you were there defending her. You encouraged her to get clean; even offered her a place to stay.”

He didn’t say a thing, only stared down at the table where his ringed fingers laid in loosely held fists.

“Yes, I was pissed when Wendy threatened for custody over Abel, but, seeing it now, do you fucking blame her? He’s been kidnapped and used as leverage with the goddamn IRA. He and Delilah were in the car when Clay’s hit on me almost earned a payday. And we were all made targets when the Irish tried to fucking blow us up in the Clubhouse; the one place we were supposed to always be safe. If you didn’t see that damn pen, Jackson, we’d be dead – all of us. Our kids, Gemma, Nero, Chibs, Happy, Tig, Bobby, Juice, Quinn, Rat, Chucky....Should I go on?”

Still, he remained silent, only now his eyes bore into yours as silent pleas stretched across the table for this conversation to end before it got worse. He could feel where the end of your confrontation would conclude for your family. His heart fell heavy in his chest and his blood ran cold by the time he came home and noticed you sitting at the table playing with your engagement and wedding rings. He could feel the tension rolling off you in waves and they only got thicker as he made his way deeper into the dimly lit room. When you requested for him to have a seat he began listing as many ways it would go.

Yet as you continued to speak, he stayed quiet. He didn’t have any answers to the questions you were asking. Or at least any that would satisfy you.

“I didn’t want her taking my son, but that didn’t mean it gave you the right to take something she worked so hard on, and might i add, it was something she did for Abel.”

His jaw clenched at the mention of his indiscretion. “I did what I had to in order to protect our family.”

And how he couldn’t have sounded more like Gemma in that moment. Was she the one who twisted his mind up into doing something so horrible? Was it her influence? The club’s?

You loved Gemma. She was your mother-in-law after all. You may have bumped heads in the beginning of your relationship, but the matriarch eventually came around to you being a part of Jax’s life (and Abel’s). However, the last year or so you have seen her in a new light. Well, as new as it gets with Gemma. She could be downright manipulative when she wanted to be, that was a known. Especially with her golden boy Jax. It was a given Gemma would do absolutely anything to protect her family.

Sometimes you found yourself questioning how far she was willing to go – if there was a line she wouldn’t cross, but sometimes you also found yourself agreeing with some of the things she did. Since you were also a mother, you could understand, but it didn’t mean it was right.

You had recently gotten involved in some club business for your husband and your SAMCRO family, which blew back on you and raised suspicion with the authorities causing a case to be built against you. The case had gotten dropped and you took the opportunity to accept the job offer in Colorado that you were presented with long before Jax even got out of Stockton. You had politely declined but was called again around the time Jax voiced his opinions about leaving the club and Charming behind. Gemma had used her knowledge as leverage and threatened you the day before to rat on you when she found out you wanted to leave Charming and take the kids to Colorado – regardless if Jax was to follow you. Either way Mama Gemma was not about to let you take her son and grandchildren away from her.

Your eyes narrowed in disbelief, a small sound making its way from the back of your throat. “How can you justify that? Who even are you?!” You jolted from your seat, no longer finding yourself calm enough to stay seated. Jax followed your movements. “What…what happened to we don’t hurt women? What happened to women and children being off limits to the club’s brutality? Did that all slip away when you became president too?”

“What the hell s’that supposed to mean?!”

Hysterical laughs escaped you. Those uncontrollable laughs then turned into sobs. Your hand came up to cover your mouth, attempting to stop the cries, but failed.

“I – I – I can’t – I can’t do this anymore,” you cried. “When I look at you...I don’t know what I see…and that terrifies me.” Your confession rose emotions you couldn’t pinpoint in his body stature or those daring blues that make you melt at one look. You took in a shaky breath, an equally shaky exhale leaving you. “I refuse for us to be the next Clay and Gemma. I’m sorry, but that’s where I draw the line. The longer we’re here, the deeper we sink into the darkness, Jax, and the more we lose of ourselves, and the more we turn into the people we despise the most.”

He shook his head, clearly disagreeing with what you were saying. “We’re not them.”

“You’re right, we’re not.” You nodded, crossing your arms over your chest. “We’re worse. We pretend that we’re better. But how are we any better than them based on the things we’ve done.”

“Babe-” he went to move toward you, but you only took a step back putting a hand out and in between the two of you.

“No.”

“(Y/N/N)—”

“No!” he stopped dead in his tracks at your shout.

You took a deep breath to calm yourself, holding back the amount of tears that could challenge that of a tsunami. “I was offered the position in Colorado again. They’re promoting me too.” you told him. “I took it.”

Jax’s eyes widened at the news, his hands gripping the back of the chair, hunched over the wooden seat. “You made this decision without me? You didn’t think to talk it over with me first?”

“I’m way past asking permission when it comes to my life. Or my children’s lives.”

“You’re takin’ them from me.” It wasn’t a question, more of a statement of incredulity. Had it really come to this? Had you both really drifted too far this time?

“You said it yourself last year, Jax. JT should have run Gemma over if it meant getting you and Thomas out of Charming and away from the madness of the club.” Using his own words against him. That was something you were known to do and relatively good at. It was scary, but effective to say the less. It would get your point across, didn’t it? “And if that’s what it takes, then so be it. I won’t make the same mistakes.”

“This is not the life we wanted for them. And if I’m the only one feeling that way, then I guess I’ll be the only one to do something about it.” You sniffled, doing your best to avoid his burning gaze. You knew if you even got a glimpse at the broken look on his face you would cave, and you needed to be strong for your kids. “You said you were gonna make it better. You said you were gonna get out of the drugs and guns. You said you were gonna get them out, remember?” You reminded him of the promises he made, but proved to be empty.

You wiped another fallen tear with the sleeve of your shirt. “I know that getting out of all the illegal shit was going to take time. I know that shit wasn’t going to just go away overnight. I know that you’re struggling with being the man you want to be and the man you have to be – not that you would say anything anyway.” you shrugged. “Baby, your slipping and I don’t know how to catch you. Your changing and it’s scaring me.”

“The club shit is getting so much worse and I can’t just sit here twiddling my thumbs pretending that everything’s going to be okay. I just can’t.” You sounded defeated but the stern tone didn’t cease. “I have to do what best for my babies.”

“And what about us?” He pleaded, throwing his arms out before letting them drop to his sides.

“This isn’t about us, Jackson. It’s not just us anymore,” you reminded him. “This is about them.” You told him, watching as the world in his deep blue eyes come crashing down. “I have to put my love for you on hold and theirs have to come first.”

His body was leant up against the cabinets, defeated and poignant. His ringed fingers ran through his already tangled hair from the number of times he pulled on it. One of them ran over his face before both hands met at the center, falling in the praying position.

Your heart was breaking. The end of your marriage was here, but you had to be strong; not for yourself, but for your two babies who were sleeping soundly in their rooms down the hall, oblivious to what was going on between their mommy and daddy. You had to be strong for them and your unborn child of eight weeks. You had to do better in order for them to live better a life. One that was worth living. Your love for Jax would never go away. You will always love him, despite anything he may say or do, nothing could possibly change how you feel about him. And perhaps that was the problem, but your children came first.

Being a mother came before being a wife or Old Lady.

SOA TAG LIST: @cutekittylexie @talicat713 @woahitslucyylu @xx--day-dreamer--xx @sweetpeaflower01 @rebelwrites

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yourcroweater · 6 years

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C o r r u p t

Chapter 2

A/N: this takes place in the first episode of season 5 of SoA. Chapter 3 will be set in episode 1 and 2. I’ll be taking some liberties when it comes to the time-line, I hope I don’t make a mess out of this lol. The lyrics are from Dark Nights - Dorothy

Tag list: @sam-samcro @telford-ortiz-teller @telfords-glasgow-smile @jaaxsoadeaanspn @i-was-made-of-nutella @dolphingoddess81 @i-am-the-luna @teller-telford-old-lady @dmagicreality @meggzz21 @i-like-it-heavy-so-i-can-panic @enjoy-the-destruction

“don't send me no angel, this city's too cold

cause I need a man with a black heart of gold

don't give me no lover, if he ain't got the stones

cause I need a man who will fight for his own.”

The sun was setting by the time I passed the Charming welcome sign. It hadn’t been hard spotting Charming in a map. Making my way there wasn’t hard either. It was an hour and a half drive through the I-580 according to Google Maps but I made it in a little less than an hour on my bike.

I would have left first thing in the morning if I wasn’t so damn tired. Those corpses Jimmy left for me took forever to clean up. Pieces of brain scattered everywhere -- I even found some on a far back wall -- and I had to make sure there was no evidence left behind.

I had taken an extremely long and necessary shower once I got to my loft, at almost 7am. I crashed on my bed totally naked afterwards, almost 9 in the morning then, still partially wet from my shower.

My whole body was sore from dismembering and carrying body parts and it took me forever to find a comfortable position in bed and finally sleep. I woke up at 4pm still feeling like shit. I tossed and turned all throughout my sleep and I hardly felt rested. This time, I blamed the nightmares on too much wine and on Taco Bell’s fat filled food -- but I knew better. I pushed it to the back of mind though. I could wallow in guilt later. Meeting my real father was more important than rethinking my sins.

Still, the guilt spoke louder and I found myself praying Our Father as I took the turn to leave I-580 and enter Charming town. I would have held the cross on my necklace if my hands weren’t on the clutch. My faith helped me constantly with my line of work and I always calmed down a little when I prayed. It would be good if I could find a church in Charming. I didn’t need to confess. Sunday mass was enough for me.

This time, however, I got a tad too distracted with my praying. I lost my grip on the bike for a second and I swayed on the street, earning several warning honks from cars. The honks startled me and I brusquely tried to straighten the motorcycle. A van had been trying to pass me on the right and when I swerved back into my lane it hit my side, sending me and the bike sliding against the road.

I landed on my side with my bike pinning me down. It took me a second to register the pain and start cursing. My left leg, the one under the bike, burned like a motherfucker and my left shoulder took most of the impact for my body. The car behind me hit the brakes, putting me face to face with its front bumper. There was big sticker on it that read ‘Jesus is my car insurance’. I doubted Jesus would cover the wreck if the guy had ran me over.

It was so ridiculous and ironic that I started laughing. God really had my back. I removed my helmet and threw it to the side still laughing.

“God fucking dammit,” I muttered to myself as I chuckled.

I looked down, trying to see the damage and wondering how much strength I would need to lift my Harley. As I tried to sit up so I could wiggle out from beneath the bike, I noticed three men jumping from their own Harleys and running my way. Bikers always helped it each other when it came to road troubles. Drivers rarely gave a shit, like the van driver who just took off after I went down.

“Hey hey, hold on,” called the first man ahead. He removed his helmet, revealing a mass of blonde hair.

I stopped moving so he and the other two men could lift my motorcycle.

“One, two, three,” the blonde guy counted and they pulled it up. I breathed out in relief once its weight was off me. The man with a big belly — made of beer and fried food, I supposed — kicked the footrest down so my bike could be propped up.

The third guy strode to me, offering me his gloved hand. I couldn’t see much of his face because the setting sun was right behind him, making him a silhouette. I grabbed my helmet with one hand before letting him pull me up to my feet.

I cursed under my breath once I was up. Pain flashed from my knee to my thigh and I stumbled. The man that pulled me up put his arm around me so I wouldn’t fall and I swung my arm around his shoulders so I could rest my weight on him.

“Ye okay, lass?” He asked. I looked curiously at him, trying to put a face to the Scottish accent, but the sun was in my eyes.

“Can’t say for sure,” I replied. I twisted my body a little so I could have a look at my leg. There was a mixture of red, black and grey and it took me a second to realise it was blood, asphalt and the colour of my jeans. It wasn’t gushing blood but it looked ugly. “Yeah, I’ll be fine, had worse before.”

“What happened?” Asked the blonde.

“I got distracted, it was my fault,” I explained. “Is she alright?” I pointed at my bike.

The fat guy checked it out from behind his blue sunglasses. “Yeah, she’s good. You took most of the fall. There’s a few scratches but we can fix it for you.”

Before I could say anything, the driver from the Crown Vic, the one with Jesus insurance, honked loudly at us. Fair enough, we were standing in the middle of the road but I had had an accident and I was hurt. I leaned past my Scottish saviour so I could give the driver my middle finger. The driver honked again and there was a collective raising of middle fingers from all of us this time and a loud “fuck off” from the fat guy.

“C’mon, let’s free up the road for that shithead,” the blonde said, nodding at the Scotsman and helping the other guy steer my Harley to a close lay-by.

I half limped, half hopped my way there with the aid of the man at my side. He was a few of inches taller than me, three or four inches I would guess, and he had to lean down a bit so I could rest my weight on him. I stole a glance at him -- actually, several glances, especially when I realised he was pretty good looking.

“Sit down,” he told me as he unhooked my arm from around him. I did as he said and sat down on my bike, hanging my helmet on the clutch and immediately looking up at him. He removed his sunglasses and met my eyes. I assumed my brain got overflowed with endorphins because I stopped feeling pain. Yeah, he was that hot. Mind numbingly and pain numbingly hot.

I noticed how hot the blonde guy was when he jumped off his bike but he was far too pretty for my taste. I liked my men ruggedly handsome, older and -- well from now on -- Scottish.

I stared at him and he stared right back. He had scars across his cheeks, I noticed -- hard to miss actually, and somehow it made him look sexier. It added to the whole dangerous and mysterious vibe he put out. He had a kutte on over a brown button-up shirt and I could read the patches if I squinted enough. Sons of Anarchy, Sgt. At Arms, Redwood Original. I stopped staring for a second so I could have a quick look at the other two men. All of them wore kuttes and the blonde one had a President patch. Rescued by a motorcycle club. Neat.

I turned my gaze back to the Scotsman. He tilted his head, his dark eyes meeting mine as a lopsided smile played on his lips. He was watching me with interest. In fact, I’d say he was checking me out. Good. I wasn’t being discreet about it -- when was I ever discreet with my flirting? Never, that’s when. I was laying on the ground a minute ago and here I was, lusting after my rescuer. And oh, there was a lot to lust after according to his tight jeans. I tried not to stare too hard at his crotch but it was difficult, especially because I was sat and he was right in front of me.

I managed to unglue my eyes from his junk and meet his eyes with a smirk. The blonde man cleared his throat. He was trying to hide his smile but he wasn’t being very good at it.

“Sorry. You said you guys can fix my bike for me?” I asked, trying to brush off the flirting.

“Yeah, there’s only a few scratches. We can paint it over at T-M but it’ll ruin the original paint job,” the guy with the blue glasses stepped forward as he spoke. He had long greying hair and a beard.

“T-M?”

“Teller-Morrow Automotive, our auto-shop,” the Scot supplied.

I felt all blood leave my face.

Of fucking course. I came to Charming looking for my real dad, knowing his name, where he worked and that he was criminal. And now I was face to face with bikers, probably criminals, who owned the place my father worked in. I knew I was bound to meet some uncomfortable truths about my dad but actually realising how close to it I was, scared me. Not only that, but I was flirting with some guy who could very well be my dad. He looked old enough.

Jesus. What if he was my dad? That would be extremely weird. But he couldn’t be my dad. My mother said I looked like him and I had nothing in common with the Scotsman.

I had to just get on with it and ask.

“You happen to know an Alexander Trager then?”

At first they stared at me, their eyebrows twitching as if they expected me to say more. When I didn’t, all three of them shifted on their feet while exchanging looks. None of them reacted to the name as someone would if they heard their own name, which calmed me a little.

“What’s yer name?” The Scotsman crossed his arms over his chest, all traces of his flirting gone.

“Giulia,” I said. He cocked his right eyebrow in response, prompting me to say more. “Giulia Lucchese.” He looked at the other two and they shook their heads. “Look, I get that you don’t know me but I just wanna talk to Trager.”

“Why?” the blonde asked, his baby blue eyes piercing mine.

It wasn’t hard to tell they were suspicious of me. I would be too if some stranger came around my town asking for a friend of mine.

I took a deep breath before opening my mouth.

“Because he’s my father.”

Blondie and Scot raised their eyebrows and Blue Sunglasses let out a chuckle. Life would be a bit easier right now if I at least knew their names. It’d be nice to be on first name basis if they were gonna judge me.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Blondie said, running a hand over his face. “Unbelievable.”

“It’s not that hard to believe, Jax,” Blue Sunglasses scoffed. “It was bound to happen. The way Tig fucks around... I knew some lost kid was gonna pop up someday,” he shook his head to the sides, laughing. His eyes analysed me and he stopped laughing as if he just realised something. “You said Lucchese?” I nodded. “Ain’t that fucking great?” he looked up at the sky as if he was cursing God.

“What?” I asked along with Scot and Blondie (or Jax).

“Lucchese, as in Bianca Lucchese,” my eyebrows shot up upon hearing my mom’s name. “Remember her, Chibs?” Blue Sunglasses stopped so he could look at Scot. Chibs was his name? I doubted it, probably a nickname.

“Shit. Aye, I remember her. But now she’s… Fuck. Tig sure chooses them well.” He smoothed his greying hair back with both hands, looking frustrated.

“What?!” Jax shouted, his blonde eyebrows furrowed. Apparently he wasn’t a fan of being kept out of the loop. I was right with him in this one.

“Ye were a kid, Jackie boy. Ye don’t remember her. Bianca, yer mum,” he eyed me for a second, “was drivin’ on 580 when her car broke down and she called T-M fer a tow. Tig and Bobby went to pick her up…” he stopped and looked at Blue Sunglasses, who I deduced was Bobby.

“Bianca was real pretty. Italian accent. Tig was onto her the moment she spoke,” Bobby explained, rolling his eyes. I leaned forward, my injured leg long forgotten, eager to hear the details of how my mother and father met. I knew nothing, I’d take any information those bikers had to give me. “We fixed her car but she stayed in Charming for a month because of Tig. Bianca broke things up because Tig was divorcing Colleen and then she left to Oakland. Pregnant apparently,” he pointed at me. “Since Giulia is here now.”

“So? What’s the problem?” Jax asked.

“Bianca’s married to Jimmy Cacuzza now. Which makes her,” Bobby pointed one fat finger at me again, “Jimmy’s stepdaughter and italian mob.”

“No I’m not,” I replied instantly. Took me a second to realise they knew Jimmy Cacuzza. More than that, they knew he was mafia. The name meant something to them and right now it meant trouble. At best they had a good relationship with Jimmy and my, well, existing put them at odds. “Yes, I’m his stepdaughter but I have nothing to do with the mob.” Okay, I was sorta lying. “Look,” I stood up, ignoring the flash of pain that coursed through my leg, “until yesterday I didn’t know who my father was. I came here to get to know him, I don’t want to cause any problems. You guys clearly have, uh, a relationship with Jimmy and I don’t wanna get caught in between that. It’s not my fault who my mom fucked or who she got married to,” I shrugged. “I just wanna meet my real dad and if he doesn’t want to talk to me, that’s fine. I’ll just go back to Oakland if that happens. But I’m not leaving until I get to at least see him.”

For a moment we all stared at each other. The sun had finished setting, leaving the California sky in a purplish shade. With the sun gone, the wind started picking up and the blood on my leg became cold as it dried. Headlights from cars passing on the I-580 were the the only source of light.

Finally, Jax nodded.

“Fine but you only get to talk to him after we’re sure you’re his daughter.”

“I’ll take a DNA test if you want me to,” I replied, sitting down again. I could have leaped in joy but my leg stopped me from doing that and I was not doing that in front of badass bikers. “I want to be sure, too.”

“Yeah, yeah. Until then, you’re not leaving our sight,” I was sure he was using his threatening voice, yet it had little effect on me. I just stared back. “Can you ride?” He looked from my leg to my bike.

“I’m good for riding but I should probably get this looked at later,” I said.

“My old lady is a doctor, she can check it out for you,” he walked to his bike, a Dyna Super Glide, and picked up his helmet. “You follow us out,” he commanded. No shit he was President, the man ordered people around like it was nothing. He could’ve said it nicely and I would follow them out anyway.

I was getting up to swing my leg over my Iron 883 when Chibs stepped forward, grazing my shoulder lightly with his hand.

“Yer leg’s still bleedin’. Ye have anythin’ to tie around it?” He frowned as he looked at the wound.

I could have drooled at this point. Not only was he hot, he was also caring. He was actually concerned about my leg. Yeah, he was making me horny with only that and that was a good skill to have.

“I have an old shirt in my saddlebag, you can use that,” I managed to say, pointing at the studded saddlebag attached to my motorcycle.

He bent down so he could open the saddlebag and retrieve my old over-sized Ozzy Osbourne shirt. I usually slept with it but apparently I wasn’t using it tonight, since it was going to be covered in blood. He united the two sleeves before squatting down in front of me. He wrapped it around my leg, staring dead straight into my eyes with his eyebrows arched. I bit my lip to stifle my smile as I watched him.

“Not how I imagined you going down on me,” I quipped. His hands stopped for a moment as he looked up at me, a grin appearing on his face. Bobby and Jax laughed as they mounted their bikes and then Chibs chuckled too. He finished tying my shirt and made sure the knot was secured.

“No need for a DNA test, Jax,” Bobby told him but he was looking at me. “After that one, she’s definitely Tig’s kid.”

Jax nodded, chuckling as he started his bike and soon his and Bobby’s laugh were drowned out by the Harleys’ powerful engines. I meant to ask what he meant by that -- was my dad a horndog like I was? -- but Chibs still had my attention.

He offered me my helmet after getting back on his feet and then leaned forward and gave me a wink paired with a smile. On top of everything else, he had dimples. To say my panties were soaked would be an understatement.

“Try to keep up with us, love,” he told me before turning his back on me and heading towards his own bike. His kutte had a nice design on the back with a reaper and an AK-47.

I tilted my head, my eyes fixed on his ass as he strode. Nice junk and a nice ass. He alone was reason enough for me stick around awhile. But I came to Charming with a purpose and that was to find my dad -- not a lover. I wouldn’t complain if it happened, though.

#sons of anarchy #soa #sons of anarchy fanfic #soa fanfic #chibs telford #jax teller #bobby munson #tig trager #gemma teller #clay morrow #happy lowman #juice ortiz #tara knowles #opie winston #corrupt #jessica de gouw

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kazosa · 7 years

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Secrets - SoA: Chapter 12

Summary: Reader has lived in a life full of secrets. When her father dies unexpectedly and sends her on a trip all over the country, she finds out just how much like her father she really is. The end of her trip brings her to Charming, CA where she finally gets some big pieces of her family puzzle put back in place and form new relationships with the people there. Chapter 12: the reader is in jail Warnings: language A/N: If it wasn’t clear before, this takes place after the events of the final episode, SPOILERS! Italics are for Chibs side of the story. Bold is for the reader’s inner thoughts. Word Count: 2100 Tags: @telford-ortiz-teller @sam-samcro @tstieff @yourcroweater @kacilove26 @hiddlelove @evilsorceress @reallynigga21 @suz-123 @between-shades-of-winchester @caitcrook @i-was-made-of-nutella @charlottecl @gunsnrosesislife @yoonjigu @mkindoll2016 @confidencerush @jade770

IF YOU WISH TO BE TAGGED, PLEASE LET ME KNOW IN SOME WAY. ASK BOX IS SAFEST WAY, BUT I DO TRY TO LOOK AT ALL COMMENTS AND REBLOGS. COMMENTS WELCOME! Secrets Masterlist

“It’s the hot cars that make me think it’s all a smoke screen,” you tried to explain your theory. “The throw away cars, the Hondas and Cavaliers, etc., they’re the diversion.”

“So, do you think there’s more than one person at this?” Jarry asked.

“With as many cars as were stolen and dropped in such a short amount of time each night, and then there’s the ones that were not recovered, it makes me think there were at least four people doing the throw-away cars and at least three on the valuable cars. One person drops them at the car they boost then pick up once they’re ready to ditch the car. The hot cars need more time to scope and plan but that was probably one person dropping off and one doing the boost. Sometimes the drop off is the lookout, but doesn’t have to be. The person doing the boost is probably the one orchestrating this whole plan, too. In a town like this, if they were coming from outside, that would get noticed, so they’re probably a local team.”

“Do you know anyone that looks good for this?” Jarry asked after considering your words.

Of course, Jarry knew it wasn’t you. Either she, or someone from her department, had been watching you since you arrived in Charming, only proving that Happy was right and she had surveillance on the Sons. With that kind of coverage, there was no way it could have been you and Jarry not know. Jarry had worked stolen car cases before and they never really ever got resolved. Those small cases were nothing in comparison to what she had to deal with regarding the high-end cars that were missing. In the case file, she’d included possible suspects for the thefts, all of which had priors for GTA.

“Out of the ones you gave me, only this one looks good,” you handed the mug shot through the bars. “He could be the one good for the high-end cars, maybe even running the show, hard to say. The other ones will be kids, probably no priors, get one of them, they can point you to the leader.”

A few moments passed as Jarry thought over everything you had told her. A look of resignation had crossed her face. She knew with certainty it wasn’t you and it was because she had the surveillance set up. Jarry had thought that when Filip had come back to her, it was because he still cared for her. She’d regretted letting him go and had spent a lot of time trying to get him back. She’d reasoned that the surveillance was necessary for the safety and well-being of the community since SAMCRO had quite the reputation in Charming. If she happened to find out Chibs’ whereabouts as a result, then it was just icing on the cake. You coming into town had thrown a wrench in the works.

“I’ll take all of this now,” she said stiffly. She was not happy at all. The scene that greeted her with the three of them sitting like a picnic pissed her off. Chibs was smiling at the bitch, not like she had said something funny, but like he was…proud of her? But ‘proud’ wasn’t the word. He looked at her with love in his eyes.

You gathered all of the papers and supplies and handed them back to her. It looked like Jarry was about to walk out without another word, but you weren’t that lucky. She stopped just as she got to the doorway and turned back to face you.

“It’ll never work between you two, you know that, right?” she asked plainly.

“Excuse me?” you said. How in the hell would she know?

“You’re too different. If you knew all of the things he’s done for and because of the Sons, you’d run for home right now. He would get calls while he was in bed with me and would go take care of whatever mess your useless cousin got them into, doing whatever it took to clean it up. We could never tie him to anything though. Even so, he’s been in prison for very serious offenses. And you, you’re just a princess with a silver spoon up her ass, moonlighting on the dark-side. Stupid kid stuff when you were younger.” She looked at you with pity.

You couldn’t believe your ears. Her impression of you was completely wrong. You’d stolen everything you could get your hands on up until the incident with Brandon, but you’d always been very careful. Your dad had been very successful as a businessman, but the wealthy part didn’t come until you were almost out of high school. You’d had to work hard for everything you had. You were no stranger to hard work, but you weren’t above taking a five-finger discount.

“Thought you should know before he breaks your heart,” Jarry told you and turned on her heel to leave.

Sitting down on your empty cot, you almost laughed at her assumptions. The container holding the brownie was next to you, calling out to be eaten. Leaning back against the wall, you ate the brownie your sweet boy got you and hoped to hell he called Jack.

“Hey kiddo, how are ya?” Jack answered.

“Is this Jack?” Chibs asked.

There was a pause on the other end, “Aw shit. Is this Chibs? Is she okay?”

“Yes, to both,” he said. “She’s in jail, though. Needs a lawyer, said ta call ye.”

Chibs could hear Jack sigh heavily on the other end, “Tell me everything you know.”

Chibs told him everything about what Jarry had been doing, watching the club, stalking him, the party and what had happened that day.

“Well, sounds like Sheriff Jarry is a clever one, hauling her in on a Sunday,” Jack grumbled. “Alright,” he continued, “I’ll be out as soon as I can. You know I have to tell Debbie, right?”

“I think the lass would prefer ye didn’,” Chibs suggested.

Jack outright laughed, “Yeah, I’m sure she would, but I would prefer to keep my head attached to my shoulders!”

“Shit,” he conceded. “Best o’ luck, bruv. Let me know when ye get in. Need a ride from the airport? I’ll have the lass’s phone.”

“Nah, it’s okay. I have it covered. Thanks, Chibs, see you soon.”

He didn’t know what to do with himself without (Y|N) and while he had to wait for Jack to fly in. It was barely after two on a Sunday afternoon, but he decided to take a chance on going to the clubhouse. There was usually someone in there. He put the phone in his jeans pocket, grabbed his kutte off the peg and made his way down the hall to the clubhouse doors.

Happy and Tig were sitting at a table, drinking beers, listening to classic rock, smoking and bullshitting. He was glad they were there. Tig saw him first.

“CHIBS!” he popped up from his seat and greeted his brother with the customary bro hug complete with the sound of hands slapping on leather backed kuttes. Happy soon followed. Tig grabbed a round of beer and they all sat down at the table.

“What’s goin’ on, Chibs, thought you’d be with that sexy badass gettin’ laid,” Tig asked. “Or did she figure out what a bum you are and ditch you?“

Tig wasn’t too far from the truth. He worried the lass was going to decide he wasn’t worth the trouble anymore. He took a long drink from his beer.

“(Y|N) is in jail. Jarry brought her in for questioning,” Chibs explained.

“What for?” Happy asked, instantly angry.

“Why didn’t she tell Jarry to fuck off?” Tig wanted to know. “Why isn’t she here if it was just questioning?”

“Jarry wanted her to look at a car theft case she’s working, thought the lass could help,” Chibs said.

Tig had a confused look on his face, “Why would (Y|N) be able to help?”

“The lass used to steal cars,” they both were still looking at him with blank expressions. “A lot. Everyday. Only arrested twice. Once on the first time, and once on the last when she wrecked the car. Jarry thought she could look at the case and give her a lead. Told (Y|N) if she didn’t help, she’d press charges.”

Chibs was sure his brothers had seen her leg, at the very least, at the party. It was hard to miss.

“I knew I liked that girl,” Tig said.

“It pissed off the lass something awful, Eglee said. But (Y|N) looked at the case anyway. The cars caught her eye.” Chibs wanted to drink himself into oblivion, but he needed a clear head for when Jack arrived and maybe he’d get to go down to the jailhouse to get (Y|N) out, too.

“So, she looked at the case anyway and Jarry didn’t drop it?” Tig asked.

Happy chimed in, “Want me to get her out, Pres?”

“Yeah Chibs, I don’t have a problem shooting that gash, Jarry. It’ll be fun, like old times,” Tig looked nostalgic.

Chibs considered their offers for a hot minute ultimately deciding against it.

“No,” he shook his head, “the lass needs us on this side o’ the bars.”

Happy sat back in his chair, a disappointed look on his face.

“I want to kill something,” he said.

“I know ye do, bruv,” Chibs empathized. He would have liked to shoot Jarry, too. The lass didn’t deserve being treated the way she was just because she was with him.

“Five years ago, we woulda done it,” Tig mused.

“Aye and five years ago, we would have been in there with her,” Chibs said. “We need to stay clean so we can earn clean. I’m not putting anyone in danger again.”

Bored. To. Tears. You were desperately trying not to over think things, but when you had nothing to do but count the bricks in the wall, your mind wandered (there were 492). Eglee had asked you about any tattoos or distinguishing scars that needed to be documented, which led to more photographs and more questions. You did cut Eglee some slack, she was very nice about how she asked.

Telling the story about how you wrecked the Porsche was easy enough. You had no memory of the actual event, just the burning pain and rehab after. You’d accepted all of the details about what had happened long ago. Bringing up Brandon and what he’d done was completely different and was almost impossible to talk about without being nauseated or crying. You remembered every second of what he did to you. You just let Eglee assume that it was from the crash, just like you let Filip believe the same. The cops had caught Brandon and he went to prison where karma caught up with him.

Eglee probably suspected you weren’t telling her everything but she just let it go. You didn’t want to tell her all of the gory details anyway. There was no way you were going to tell Eglee that part of your life before you told Filip. Lying through your teeth and keeping secrets was always something you’d been good at, but now, after being with Filip, it was like you were finally getting a conscience about it all. It felt wrong not to tell him.

Before Charming, you’d never had a problem being alone. Sitting in your cell, you were feeling very alone and you were lonely for Filip. The last week had been the happiest of your life and it was because of him. The attraction had been immediate, but it was more than just lust, you genuinely liked him and got along with him so well. Being with him was like going home, it was so natural, as if you’d always been together. You’d finally found someone that treated you like a queen, cared about you and it was all in jeopardy.

You leaned back against the cell wall and tried to clear your mind. If Filip called Jack, he would be on his way as soon as he could, you were sure of it, maybe even close to landing. Jack would call your mother, there was no question on that point. He’d been keeping track of you more than just to make sure you were okay. Your mother would have found a way to annoy the hell out of you if Jack hadn’t been the go-between. He was the one that relayed the details to your mother so you didn’t have to.

God, I hope she didn’t come with him, you thought to yourself.

#secrets #chapter 12 #fan fiction #reader insert #chibs x reader #chibs telford #althea jarry #reader #stephanie eglee #tig trager #happy lowman #fan fic #kazosa

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kazosa · 7 years

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Secrets - SoA: Chapter 6

Summary: Reader has lived in a life full of secrets. When her father dies unexpectedly and sends her on a trip all over the country, she finds out just how much like her father she really is. The end of her trip brings her to Charming, CA where she finally gets some big pieces of her family puzzle put back in place and form new relationships with the people there. Chapter 6: Final files on the family including Chibs Warnings: language, mentions of rape and abuse A/N: If it wasn’t clear before, this takes place after the events of the final episode, so SPOILERS – I don’t write smut soooo, sorry, not sorry Word Count: 3242 Tags: @telford-ortiz-teller @sam-samcro @tstieff @yourcroweater @kacilove26 @hiddlelove @evilsorceress @reallynigga21

IF YOU WISH TO BE TAGGED, PLEASE LET ME KNOW IN SOME WAY. ASK BOX IS SAFEST WAY, BUT I DO TRY TO LOOK AT ALL COMMENTS AND REBLOGS. COMMENTS WELCOME! Secrets Masterlist

March 16 – Evening – Chibs’ place There was no more avoiding the files. You thought about waiting until the weekend to open them, but you’d be at the party with Chibs and as a friend of the club. It seemed like a good idea to have the full picture before the party.

You told Chibs you were going to look at the files as you got out your laptop. For a moment, he looked like he might say something, instead, he remained silent and merely nodded. He busied himself in the kitchenette cleaning up from dinner while you settled into one of the armchairs.

You had seen how thorough your dad and Jack had been in previous documents and Filip “Chibs” Telford’s file was no different except for one thing, there was a letter from your dad for Chibs.

“There’s a letter for you.” You turned in the chair to look at him. He had his back to you, but the worry was rolling off of him in waves. “Do you want to read it now or later?”

“Later,” his voice was so low you almost didn’t hear him. The pots clunked as he almost threw them into the stainless-steel sink.

Double-clicking on Chibs’ file, you took a deep breath and prepared yourself for what you might find in there. The other files had been just what was public record and things your dad could remember. He had gotten into much more detail with Chibs file and had included information that occurred before he joined the Redwood charter. You finally learned who Kerrianne is, and by the time Chibs had finished cleaning up the kitchenette, you knew who Fiona and Jimmy O’Phelan were, too.

He got out two glasses and poured them both a Sailor and Coke. She was still in the chair reading, so that was a good sign, hadn’t scared her so bad to make her run... He went to her side, brushing her shoulder with the backside of his hand. She looked up at him and was grateful to not see hate brimming up inside. Taking the offered glass, she took a sip and put the glass on the table between the two chairs. He stepped over to the unoccupied chair and eased himself down into it.

Had it really only been three days since she walked into the office and captured his heart? Logic told him that love at first sight was bullshit. His Scottish, romantic heart told him otherwise. The moment he saw her, he was speechless. There wasn’t any one thing that he could put his finger on that made sense as to why. He just saw his other half walk in and his soul knew it.

He tried to tell himself that he was just infatuated with her because of the mystery surrounding her. She’d just appeared in his shop and he’d been taken with her. He couldn’t put his finger on any one thing that made sense. He hoped once she was done with the job she came here for, she would stay, maybe be his old lady. It had been nice coming home to her every night, not so lonely.

He watched her as she intently read the file that he could only assume had his whole life in it. When he’d handed her the drink, he saw a picture of Jimmy O and Fi. (Y|N) didn’t even bat an eye, barely even looked up. It bothered him a little bit that Bud had so much information on everyone, but (Y|N) also had the right to know what her da had been through, too. He’d ask her to delete them when she was done reading. In the meantime, he’d just sit and drink his rum while she read.

Chibs had situated himself in the corner of the chair, leg over the arm, head propped in the corner. You got through it all, the bombing, the blackmail, the death of Padraic, his time in Stockton for gunning down a Niner, losing Opie, losing everyone… and finally, gaining the club presidency. It was a lot to process. So much had happened in the last ten years, but the pieces were finally falling into place.

The part about Fiona and Jimmy stuck out, mostly because Jimmy’s body was found on a barely used highway, nothing for miles and miles. He’d been stabbed and his face mutilated. The police report said he had died in an “escape attempt,” but you knew better.

“Did you do it?” you asked Chibs. Turning in your own chair, you found his already dark eyes, almost completely black, his face lacking expression. “Did you kill that bastard, Jimmy O’Phelan?”

This time, he raised an eyebrow at your blunt question. It came out more as a breath than a spoken word, but you heard him say, “Aye.”

“Good,” you said with finality.

His expression barely changed as he continued to stare at you. You felt like you needed to explain.

“That piece of shit cut you, took your wife and child, excommunicated you from the IRA, forced you to leave Ireland, basically turned your life to shit. He deserved a lot worse than what he got, the prick.”

God, she’s great.

“Are you still in love with Fiona?” you asked.

He shook his head. “Love her, yes. IN love with her, no.”

“Are you still married to her?” you asked.

He shook his head ever so slightly. “After Jimmy, she filed the papers. I signed them.”

You nodded. You understood that. It was possible to love someone and not be IN love with them, too. Hell, you’d almost gotten married. You loved Tom, but you weren’t in love with him. He’d tried to change your mind, but you knew you’d made the right decision. You were glad you made the right decision, too. Falling hard for Chibs from the moment you saw him was more than a little unexpected.

And even though your moral compass didn’t really have a ‘true north,’ it was a bit of a relief that he wasn’t married anymore.

He sat in the chair next to you, no doubt wishing you weren’t reading about him, but sitting silently while you read nonetheless. He wanted you to know, and he hated it, hated you knowing what was in there, the things he’d done...

“I stole cars, almost every day for two years when I was in high school. I was good, too,” you began. “No evidence left behind, only damaged one car. I got caught a grand total of two times. Cops could never pin anything on me except the first one I boosted and the one I wrecked. In the army, I stole every goddamned thing I could get my hands on,” you confided. “It was enough to get me put in Leavenworth. I don’t know if they knew it was happening or not. I don’t think so. My point is, I don’t want you to think I’m a princess up in an ivory tower. Twice I should have been put in prison, and not some bullshit 18-month stints. Like, full extent of the law shit.”

“Are ye still doin’ illegal shite, lass?” he asked quietly. “Are ye going to, and is it going to come back on the club?”

You shook your head.

“Then I don’t give a damn about yer past,” he said. “It doesn’t change who ye are ta me right now.”

“So, you understand why your past doesn’t bother me?”

He took a shaky breath and rubbed his hand over his face. Chibs held out his hand to you. You took it and he pulled you toward him. You looked down at the handsome Scot.

“I need ye, lass,” he whispered.

It was such a simple thing to say, but it meant so much to you. He moved so you could sit on his lap and put your arm around his shoulders. He put his arms around your waist and held you tight.

“It’s all in there, Chibs, and I don’t care. The man I see is a good man. A man that does what he thinks is right and acts with in his own code of justice. I might be wrong and you can tell me so, but I don’t think that I am. I got the ability to read people from my dad, and you know he was damn good at it.” His head was resting just above your collar bone and his breath was tickling your skin.

“I don’ know what I did to deserve ye, lass, but I’m grateful for ye,” he said.

You looked down at his handsome face and kissed him tenderly. You knew you were falling for him. Everything about him just fit with you. Honestly, you felt like you were the one who was grateful. No one had ever treated you as well as Filip had and you’d only known him for a few days. God, was it really only that little amount of time? You felt like you had known him all your life.

“I need you, too, Filip,” you confided.

Taking a big drink of your rum and coke, you handed the rest to Chibs. There was still the letter and the files on your parents to get through. You were gonna need more to drink for that. When Chibs downed the last of your glass, you looked down at his handsome face, appreciating the odd turn of events that brought you to him. You pushed away a strand of hair that had fallen on his face.

“You’ve had to be strong a long time,” your hand caressed his cheek.

“Aye,” he breathed out, the rum smell on his breath. His hand covered yours. He kissed the palm of your hand and let go. “I see why ye like the rum, lass, it’s a kick in the arse.”

You got up from his lap and grabbed the other empty glass to refill them both. You poured yours heavy on the rum, Chibs’ glass was lighter, since he’d already had more than you. You’d put off reading about your parents for a reason, it scared the hell out of you. What was so bad that they had to move away from Charming? Why keep you from your extended family? Why hide EVERYTHING? You heard Chibs come up behind you in the kitchen.

“Best ta get it over wi’, lass. The not knowin’ is wearin’ on ye,” he said quietly.

It was true. You could stand to read all of the terrible things the Sons had done because you didn’t really know any of them. Even so, you could see the reasoning behind everything they did and understood most of the reasoning behind their actions. Chibs had been filling you in as your questions came up. The club had been a mess for a long time, even as far back as your dad’s membership.

“C’mon, lass. I’ll read it with ye,” he said taking his glass and your hand. “We’ll get through it together.”

He brought the back of your hand to his mouth, kissing it.

Your heart fluttered as his lips pressed against your hand. You could definitely get used to him and his ways. He put his arm around your shoulders and led you to the bedroom. You changed your clothes while he went to grab your computer. You were just pulling on his SAMCRO t-shirt when you realized he’d come back already.

He’d never thought of himself as a lucky man. Life had always been hard, nothing ever came easy to him. There were a few spots where he’d had happiness, like Kerrianne… and Fi… but the bad, the hard, had far outweighed the good. He knew that the happiness he was feeling with (Y|N) wouldn’t last. He just wanted to make the most of the time he did have with her, so when the hard times came around, like they always did, he could have something to remember with fondness. She would leave, they all did, it was just a matter of time. Her life wasn’t in Charming, it was in Iowa. He had no claim to her… but he wanted to…

It wasn’t going to be easy, even for him, to go through the file for her parents. She’d get through it though, he could already tell when she had her mind set on something, she was going to do it. She was like her da that way. Wouldn’t stop for anything once he made up his mind. After all, she rode around the country for almost a year because her da wanted her to do it. Not knowing who her parents really were was driving her crazy. She said she wanted to understand the club first before reading about them. He saw her logic behind it, but he could also see she was stalling. She sensed whatever was in there was bad and she wasn’t wrong.

He grabbed her laptop from where she’d stashed it and went back to the bedroom. When he got to the door, she was standing in the room, naked except for some underwear with pink polka dots. She leaned slightly to pick up the shirt…He couldn’t help but stare. She didn’t realize how beautiful she was. He suspected that she didn’t think so, that was something he wanted to change. He’d tell her every day for the rest of his life if she’d let him.

(Y|N) turned and noticed him watching her, the shirt falling down around her hips, snapping him out of his trance.

“What are you staring at?” her voice was somewhat accusatory.

“My god, you’re beautiful,” he heard himself say. Jeaysus, get it together Chibs, he told himself.

“Yeah right,” she said, smirking.

He set the laptop on the dresser nearby and slowly crossed the room to her. She didn’t look away. An expression of disbelief stayed in place.

“I may be old and worn out, but my eyes work just fine, lass,” he said. Cupping her cheeks in his hands, he leaned down and kissed her softly, lovingly. Her hands came up to rest on his.

He wanted to make love to her, but stopped himself, resting his forehead on hers.

“You need to get it over with, mo ghol,” he barely uttered.

Her eyes still closed, she sighed heavily and nodded against him.

“Yeah, let’s do this,” she said, breaking away and reaching for her rum and coke.

You took a drink then climbed in the bed and Chibs handed you the laptop. He undressed and got under the covers next to you as the computer restarted.

The file held all of the mundane facts of your parents lives. Your dad was a money genius, your mom was a wild girl that tamed her wild old man, both of whom you saw in yourself. You found out that your tee-totaling mother had been arrested for public intoxication. Your dad had been a suspected car thief and, much like you, they could never pin anything on him. Your dad had set up all kinds of laundering outfits and ways of cutting corners by bending the law to keep as much money in the club as possible. He even had a gambling book set up, which had done well for several years until one dumbass ruined it and talked to the wrong person. The cops got onto the book and they’d had to shut it down. Chibs had a few stories about the visits your dad would make to California each year. He even had some about your mother.

“I didn’t even know she came out here,” you told him.

“What did ye think she was doing on those girls’ weekends?” he snickered when he saw your reaction. “And ye thought it was your da where ye got your lying skills.”

“The man could lay down an impressive line of bullshit,” you defended your assumption.

“Guess we’re all decent criminals, eh?”

The last part finally came up. The big one. The one that held the last missing piece, the last big secret. A video file came up. Your dad’s face suddenly appeared. It had to have been right before he died.

He began with saying that it happened in the summer of ’83 when he was running nomad. The rival club, the Mayans, sometimes took part in the lucrative book, especially Marcus Alvarez’s brother Robert. Marcus wasn’t president then, but he was still in the hierarchy. Robert was a pest and was constantly making bad bets with your dad’s book. Debts he couldn’t pay. Your dad also mentioned that Robert had been stalking your mother while your dad was out nomad. He’d taken a liking to her especially when he saw her as a pawn to get at your dad.

Robert was filled with hatred for your father and obsessive jealousy for your mother. It was when your dad was out on a run that Robert broke into the house, beat and raped your mother. In a very matter of fact way, your dad flat out said, “I killed the bastard and I’m not sorry. I’d bring him back to life if I could and kill him again.”

John had thought that after that incident, the club would have to let him leave. Your mother had been begging him to let your dad out of the club for months anyway. Your dad suspected that if the Mayans didn’t know who had done it, Marcus, at the very least, had an inkling who had done the work. As soon as your mother had recovered enough, the family packed up and moved to Iowa. John worked it out so that your dad could go back to California once a year for taxes and one other time as needed. He would continue to earn money for the club and everyone at the club would do whatever they could to protect the family, which wasn’t much.

He thought she might throw the laptop. Instead, she deleted the file and all of the others but the letter. Then she did something to the computer that he didn’t understand. Over her shoulder she mumbled something that sounded like “scrubbing.” When she was done, she did toss it to the foot of the bed and leaned back on his chest.

“No wonder she is the way she is,” she mumbled, “I’ve been terrible to her Chibs.”

“Yer ma can take it lass. Hell, she probably deserved it. She’s a strong woman,” he consoled her.

A few quiet moments passed and he knew she was tearing herself apart inside, analyzing everything she’d ever done. He just sat there with his arm around her until she was ready to talk again.

“What’s going to happen?” she asked.

There were a lot more questions sewn into that one simple one.

“Nothin’, love. No one will lay a hand to ye, not as long as yer with me. I spoke to Marcus that first full day you were here. Robert was his brother, but he was nothing but trouble for Marcus. He suspected what his brother did, some of the other Mayans filled him in, and he was actually glad Bud did the hard part for him. No retaliation from him or the Mayans,” he said softly.

They settled in for the night, turning off the lights. (Y|N) sought comfort in his arms and he was all to happy to give it. The letter from Bud would have to wait…

A/N: sorry this took so long... it was harder than I thought... hope it was worth the wait!

#Secrets #fanfic #reader insert #chibs x reader #chibs telford #sons of anarchy #kazosa #chapter 6

93 notes · View notes