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bullet-prooflove · 2 days
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Worth Waiting For: David Hale x Reader
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Tagging: @kmc1989 @hatersaremymotivators @bennykk @kelpies-shed
Companion piece to Graffiti & Crime Wave
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David is being stood up, he’s sure of it and so is the waiter who drifts past him for the third time with a sympathetic expression on his features. He’s been sitting in the bistro for almost forty five minutes and you still haven’t showed up. He’s tried to call you but it just goes straight to voicemail. He should have known better. A girl like you and a guy like him…
Yea, it was never going to happen.
You’re fun, bright, vibrant and he’s…
The type of guy that turns up fifteen minutes early because if you’re on time you’re late.
He takes his wallet out of his pocket and puts a few bills underneath his empty soda glass before raising to his feet and heading towards the door. It’s a thirty minute drive back to Charming and he’s not looking forward to being alone with his thoughts.
It’s when he gets out onto the street that you run into him literally. You’re wearing a beige, cable knit jumper over black, high waisted trousers. Your hair is pulled back into a messy bun, loose tendrils fall around your features. His breath hitches because  truly you are the most striking woman he’s ever laid eyes on.
The brown, leather portfolio slips from underneath your arm, spilling paper out across the street. You curse loudly and he can’t help but smile because you’ve always had a little spitfire in you. He crouches down to help you gather them up, noticing as a pink flush creeps across your cheeks.
“Sorry, I’m such a mess today.” You say as you try to gather up the paperwork. “My professor wanted to talk to me after class, by the time I got out my piece of shit phone battery had died. I’m surprised you’re still here…”
“I thought you stood me up.” He admits as he tries to sort the documentation into some sort of order.
“No,” You say shaking your head as you raise to your feet trying to jam the paperwork back into your portfolio. “I was really looking forward to tonight. I’m sorry I know I fucked it up, we won’t make the movie…”
You’re spinning out a little, he can see it. He thinks the conversation with your professor has knocked you off kilter. He has some idea of what you discussed, he guesses it’s to do with the brochure for the San Franisco Art Institute he’s currently holding in his hand.
“Do you want to talk about it?” He asks you, handing the brochure back to you. “Over dinner with me?”
Your eyes flicker up to meet his and in that moment you realise what he’s giving you. A safe space to work through your feelings, to talk through the opportunity you’ve been presented with. You’ve never had that with a man before, you’ve never wanted it but David, he’s not like those boys you’ve run around with in the past. He gets you in a way that no one else has. He actually wants to listen to you, to understand you.
“I know it can be overwhelming, suddenly having options.” He says as he guides you back towards the bistro. “Options you may have thought were previously out of your reach.”
His palm comes to rest on your lower back as he holds open the door for you. The scent of your perfume floods his senses, dark cherry with a warm amber undertone. It’s a sensual aroma, one that makes him think of summer.
You pause before you head inside, raising up on tiptoes before you press your mouth to his. The kiss is soft, tender. David has never felt something so sweet.
“Thank you.” You say softly, your fingertips ghosting over his cheek. “For waiting for me.”
He smiles as he clasps your hand to his face, his lips brushing over the pulse point of your wrist as he looks into your eyes and says.
“I have a feeling you’re worth waiting for.”
Love David? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.
Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee
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Hi can I request a smutty 3/e/32 cause of the heatwave reader shaves Jax Tellers hair. She wears a tiny dress with nothing under it cause it's too hot. and while Jax is sitting there and she's standing in front of him doing her thing he's going insane cause of that dress and starts stroking her thighs n more which leads to sex in the bathroom 🥵🥰
Heatwave.
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3. "Will you let me cut your hair?" + 32. "Can I touch you?" + e. Heatwave
Author's Note - this is a drabble written as part of my 500 Followers Celebration!! find that post here. my first ever Jax fic - god this man is so gorgeous !! anon, i hope you don't mind that i chose to cut his hair rather than shave it - because the idea of shaving his blonde locks breaks my heart honestly :( thank you for this request!! x
my other jax fic.
Pairing - Jax Teller x Female Reader
Age Rating - 18+
Warnings - smut!! cursing
Word Count - 890
Masterlist. 500 Follower Celebration Masterlist.
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You can't watch him struggle any longer.
Jax is in your driveway, working on his bike in the blazing sun. He's shirtless, golden skin on display, sweat dripping down his back. He looks like he should be on the front cover of a magazine.
You can see him becoming irritated. His hair keeps falling into his face, getting into his eyes. He repeatedly pushes it behind his ears, to no avail. It just falls again. You're worried he's going to pull it out in a fit of rage, honestly.
"Jax?" you call, rising from the porch to make your way towards him.
He turns when he hears you call his name, beaming smile on his face. The smile falters slightly when he takes in the sight of you. You're wearing a short, colourful sundress, material swishing around your mid thighs. It hugs your body in all the right places, thin straps revealing your lack of bra. He takes a deep breath upon your approach, begging his mind to stop racing with the filthy thoughts.
"Hi, darlin'," he drawls, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. You're wearing your cherry lip balm, and it takes everything in him not to bend you over the bike right there.
"Will you let me cut your hair?" you ask sweetly, throwing your arms around his neck.
"You want to? Thought you liked it long."
"I do, but it's getting in your way. Just let me take a little length off? It'll stop it from falling in your eyes."
He smiles at the realisation that you've been watching him struggle and could no longer bear it. An angel, sent just for him.
"Okay, baby. Let's do it," he says, kissing you again. Abandoning his bike, he picks you up around the middle and practically carries you inside.
You pull a chair into the bathroom and gesture for Jax to sit while you rummage in the drawer for the hairdressing scissors. When you find them, you move to stand between his legs, big blue eyes watching your every step.
Jax places his hands on your hips while you run your fingers through his hair, combing it gently. You're deciding how much to take off, surveying carefully. You know he won't mind either way, but you still want to make it look good.
You start snipping away, ignoring the beads of sweat that are dripping down your back. It's the hottest day of the year so far, and your air conditioning can only do so much. You wish you could walk around with your shirt off like Jax. He probably wouldn't mind, actually.
His hands migrate from your hips to your thighs, stroking up and down gently. He's making it hard to concentrate, so you double down on your focus, determined to finish the job. Neither of you say anything about the way your breathing has quickened, or the way his is now deep and laboured. His fingers brush higher, and you put the scissors down on the counter.
"What are you doing?" you question teasingly, placing your hands on his shoulders.
"Just sitting for my haircut, ma'am," he answers cheekily.
"Do you try and put your hand up all of your hair stylists dresses, Jackson?"
"Wouldn't dream of it," he winks.
His eyes darken slightly as they rake over your body, up and down. He wraps a strong arm around your back, pulling you into him further. The other hand is still tracing patterns on your inner thigh. He dares to move it higher, and lets out a guttural groan at what he finds.
"Fuck, honey. Are you wearing panties?"
"Nope," you reply, popping the 'P'. "Too hot."
He rests his head on your stomach and trails his fingers along the crease of your thigh.
"Can I touch you?"
"You are touching me, Jax."
"No, baby. Can I touch you here? Please?"
To emphasise his question, he brushes his fingers over your clit lightly. You jolt at the sudden contact, throwing your head back.
"Yes, Jax. Please."
You're suddenly grateful for the grip you have on his shoulders. Your knees are buckling already, balance unsteady. God, this man knows how to play you like a violin.
"No more teasing," you pant. "Need you."
How can he say no to that?
He's fumbling to unbutton his jeans, pushing them down his thighs. He pulls you forward so you're straddling him, and lines himself up. In one swift stroke, you roll your hips downwards and he slides home, both of you groaning.
"Fuck, darlin'."
"Shit, Jax. Please."
You use his thighs and his shoulders as leverage, moving yourself up and down. He thrusts upwards, meeting your strokes, sending pleasure prickling down your spine.
"This fuckin' dress," he groans. You giggle, and the vibrations drive him wild.
He can tell you're close when your hips start to stutter, rhythm faltering. He doubles down, thrusting up with more force. Jax bites down on your shoulder, and it sends you over the edge, white hot and blinding.
Your climax triggers his, hips not stopping until you're both spent and boneless. Your foreheads are pressed together, panting.
"I'm gonna buy you a hundred of these dresses," he chuckles.
"Fine by me," you reply, kissing him deeply.
"Good."
"Might need one with sleeves, though. Something's gotta cover this bite mark."
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thisreadswhatever · 6 months
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the hold he has on me
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cristinaricci · 1 year
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CHARLIE HUNNAM Sons of Anarchy (2008-2014) ↳ 1.01 | Pilot
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dilfcontent · 10 months
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CHARLIE HUNNAM naked scene in Sons of Anarchy (S02E09).
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indifferent-depravity · 9 months
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Pussyfooting
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Minors DNI 18+
CW: age gap
A/N: don't forget requests for everything are open so if you'd like to see anything from me feel free to drop it in my ask box :)
buy me a coffee!
help me escape abuse
my Etsy shop
~~~
With Gemma out looking after a sick Abel, you graciously take over all her shifts, not even giving her a chance to object. The office at the club's garage was an easy gig, half of it was just waiting for customers and organizing paperwork, giving you little to do for most of your shift. But you can’t complain as your eyes wander back to the window into the garage where Chibs is working on a car.
Your eyes trail over his body, thighs pressing together at the sight of his bare arms straining as he works. Your eyes lock when he looks up, a smirk growing on his face as you duck your head down, a deep blush crawling across your cheeks. You quickly mess with the paperwork in front of you as the door opens, trying to look busy to hide your embarrassment.
A hand covers the page and your breath hitches, eyes slowly moving up the arm to find Chibs in front of you. Your mouth goes dry at the playful smirk on his face and you swallow, feigning nonchalance as you speak, “Chibs! Did-did you need something?” You ask, nervously tapping your nails on the desk.
Chibs leans closer until you can smell the cigarette smoke lingering, “Was jus’ wondering what you were thinkin’ when you were staring at me just then.”
You laugh nervously, pushing the chair away from the desk and him. You move to stand in front of the filing cabinet, blindly shuffling through its contents. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, I-I wasn’t staring!” Your voice sounds shrill and you squeeze your eyes shut, grimacing inwardly.
“No? Didn’t realize you kids changed the definition of staring.” Chibs murmurs and you can hear him move behind you, swallowing hard as his hands settle on your hips. He spins you around, hovering his lips over yours, “No need to be embarrassed, sweetheart, I never said I didn’t like the attention.”
He leans in and you tilt your chin up with a shaky sigh to meet him, letting your eyes fall shut. Your lips barely brush against each other when someone yells for him in the garage. Chibs curses under his breath, pressing his forehead against yours for a moment and then he’s gone with a gentle squeeze to your hips.
You groan and drop your head against the cabinet, shifting uncomfortably as wetness causes your panties to cling to your cunt. You clear your throat and sit at the desk when you catch Chibs watching you, your face burning as he winks at you.
~~~
You weave through the crowd gathered in the clubhouse, letting out a grateful sigh as you push your way out into the cool night air. You lean your back against the wall and light up a cigarette with a satisfied hum, taking a slow drag.
“Fancy seeing you here.”
You choke on the smoke, quickly tipping your head up to exhale. You eye Chibs as he mirrors your position and gestures silently toward your cigarette. You hold it out, breath catching in your throat as he leans forward, eyes holding yours as he takes a drag, his lips just barely brushing your fingers. He gives you a smile as he exhales and you smile back, shakily bringing the cigarette up to your lips to delay responding. Unbeknownst to you, his eyes slide down to your mouth as you wrap your lips around the cigarette, tongue poking out to wet his lips.
“Shouldn’t you be knee-deep in croweaters vying for your attention by now?” You ask in a light tone and look at the dark garage in front of you, passing the cigarette to him without looking.
He snorts and takes a drag, watching the smoke curl in the air. “Some of us know when it’s time to stop fucking everything with two legs and a pair of tits.”
You roll your eyes, turning to give him an amused look when you see him already watching you.
“When they know they found their old lady.”
You stammer and turn back, heat crawling up your neck at the implication. “Y-Yeah I guess they do.” You take the cigarette and finish it off, dropping it onto the concrete and crushing it beneath the toe of your boot. You stand there for a while, a deafening silence growing between the two of you.
“Sweetheart.” At the pet name, you look over at him, heart skipping a beat at the heat in his gaze. Chibs cups your cheek, pressing you against the wall, “I’ve been meaning to ask-”
“Chibs! Aw, man, Clay’s been looking for you! He wants you in the chapel.”
Chibs growls, shooting the prospect a dirty glare, “Get the fuck out of here before I shove my foot up your ass, prospect!” The prospect puts his hands up in surrender, nearly tripping over himself in his haste to go back into the clubhouse.
You giggle, biting your lip in a poor attempt to stifle the noise. Chibs raises an eyebrow, giving you an amused look which causes another giggle to fall from your lips. You stretch onto your toes and press a kiss to his cheek, “Don’t want to keep your president waiting.” Your eyes linger on his for a moment before you slip away, smiling inwardly as you catch him pressing his forehead against the wall with a groan as you rejoin the party inside.
~~~
“I don’t know what to tell you, baby. If you had brought her in a couple of weeks ago like I told you, it would’ve been an easier fix.” Gemma gives you an apologetic look as if that makes the knowledge you’ll be out of a car for the rest of the week any easier.
You run your fingers through your hair with a sigh, “I know, Gem, thanks for trying.”
You turn to your car in the garage, trying to figure out how you’ll survive without your car when your eyes wander to Chibs, the sleeves of his coveralls tied around his waist, exposing his arms. Gemma sidles up next to you with a smirk, “You know, it’s a lot easier to just fuck the man instead of pussyfooting around.”
Your face heats up at her teasing words and you splutter, quickly diverting your eyes to the floor, “I-I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
She scoffs, “Mhm, sure, sweetheart. Everyone knows you and Chibs have a thing for each other and you’re just too chicken-shit to say something.” She looks you over for a moment before sticking her head into the garage, not giving you a chance to protest as she yells his name over the din of people working, waving him over as he turns around. Gemma nods her head towards you, “They need a ride home, do you mind taking ‘em? I would but I’m going to be here late doing paperwork.”
Your head jolts up and you glare at her, mouthing at her to knock it off. Chibs nods, “S’long as they’re okay riding a motorcycle, I don’t mind.”
Your heart skips a beat at the thought of riding behind him on his motorcycle and you shake your head, giving him an apologetic look, “You don’t need to do that, I-I can just walk home.”
“It’s no trouble, what kinda man would I be letting you walk that far?” The look on his face tells you that no arguing would get you out of it and you give him a small smile. “We can go whenever you’re ready.” He says and walks in the direction of his motorcycle, wiping the motor oil off his hands with a grease-stained rag.
Gemma narrows her eyes at you as she hands you your things, pushing you out of the office with a quick kiss on your cheek. You mumble curses at her under your breath as you walk toward him. You stop short, your words dying in your throat at the sight of him on his bike, sending a silent prayer to whoever is listening that you could keep it together long enough to get home.
He smiles when you reach him, holding out his hand to help you onto the bike. Your heart races as you take it, using it to steady yourself as you swing your leg over the bike. He looks back at you with a grin, guiding your arms around his waist, “Hold on tight, sweetheart.” You give him a nod, tightening your arms around him as he starts the bike. A grin forms on your face as he speeds off, closing your eyes as you enjoy the wind whipping through your hair.
You’re almost sad as he slows to a stop in front of your home, your heart still racing from the ride as you loosen your grip on his waist. You climb off the bike, suddenly feeling cold as you shift your feet nervously. Leaning down, you quickly kiss his cheek before stuttering out, “I- uh I wa- th-thanks for the ride, I’ll see you at work.” You close your eyes with a slight grimace, turning on your heel to escape before you make things worse for yourself.
“Sweetheart.”
You flinch when his hand catches your wrist, heart stuttering in your chest as you hear him get off the bike. You’re about to give an excuse to leave when he tugs on your wrist, making you stumble into his chest. You let out a shaky breath, your eyes slowly sliding up his chest to find him watching you, his face unreadable. “Chibs?”
Chibs cups your cheeks, his lips hovering over yours as he murmurs, “Call me Filip.” He kisses you passionately, stealing your breath away. It takes you a minute to respond, curling your fingers around his wrists as you stretch onto your toes to kiss back. He lingers close to you when he finally breaks the kiss, pressing his forehead against yours with a sigh, “Baby, I- tell me you want this too, I need you to want this.”
You nod against him, closing your eyes as you whisper, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this. Come inside?” You grin when he agrees and gently tangle your fingers in his, a buzzing excitement replacing your anxiety as you tug him to your front door.
Chibs wraps his arms around your waist when you drop his hand in favor of opening the door. He lightly kisses your neck and your keys nearly slip from your hand as you try to find the right key. He nips at your skin, drawing a soft whine from your throat, “Ch- F-Filip you need to stop distracting me.”
He hums, tugging you back against him, pressing the hard ridge of his cock against your ass, “Say my name again, sweetheart.” You moan and try to blindly get your key in the door, knees growing weak as he ruts against you. You finally get the door open and he urges you inside, pressing you against the door the minute it shuts. “C’mon baby, say it again.”
His hands roam over your body, sneaking underneath your pants to palm your ass. You gasp, arching into him, “Fuck, Filip.” You pull him down into a searing kiss and roughly push his cut off his shoulders, tugging at the bottom of his shirt, “Take your clothes off, now.”
“Bossy today, aren’t ya?” Chibs chuckles and pulls his shirt off, throwing it to the side before tugging your shirt over your head.
You give him a devilish grin and flip your bodies around to press him against the door as you dip your hand into his coveralls, fingers brushing the heated skin of his cock, “You can take your time next time, need you to fuck me right now.” He groans, thumping his head back against the door as you slide your hand over his length. You attack his skin, nipping and sucking marks over his neck and collarbones.
“Fuck- sweetheart it’ll be a bit difficult to do that if you keep touching me like this.” You hum, still moving your hand over his shaft, grinning against his skin as he bucks into your touch. Chibs grabs your arm, swallowing a moan as he forces you to stop. You press a kiss to the underside of his jaw, giving his cock a final squeeze before pulling away.
“Come and get me then,” You say with a smirk, making a show of peeling off the rest of your clothes as you make your way to your bedroom. Your cunt throbs as you hear his boots hit the floor with a heavy thud and you hook your thumbs into the waistband of your panties, slowly teasing them down your thighs. You giggle as Chibs wraps his arms around you, hand sliding between your thighs with a groan.
“God, you’re so fucking wet f’me, aren’t you?” You whine as his fingers find your clit, digging your nails into his arm, “Been thinking about this pretty pussy wrapped around my cock for weeks now.”
You tip your head back against his shoulder with a sigh as he sinks his fingers into your cunt, “Maybe-maybe you should stop lollygagging and fuck me then,” You say with a quiet moan, your knees weakening from his touch.
Chibs growls and pulls his fingers out of you with a light smack to your ass, spinning you around to face him, “You’re going to get in trouble if you keep mouthing off to me, sweetheart,” He grips your thighs, hoisting you into his arms as he moves to sit on the bed. Your breath hitches as his cock slides against your cunt and he grins, delivering another smack to your ass that has you clenching your thighs around his hips.
You let out a breathless laugh, reaching between you to press the head of his cock against your entrance, “Yeah? What are you gonna do about it?” Before he could answer you sink down on his cock, a whimper bubbling out of you as you stretch around his length. He swears, digging his fingers into the flesh of your ass as he bottoms out inside you.
You shiver as Chibs drags your hips against his, working you over his cock, “Oh, I think you’ll find out, sweetheart.” He growls, surging forward to capture your lips in a deep kiss, forcing his tongue into your mouth as you moan into the kiss. You wrap your arms around his neck and lift your hips, the drag of his cock inside you making your toes curl.
He presses his thumb against your clit and you break the kiss with a gasp, throwing your head back as you shudder against him. “Fuck- ‘m so close, Filip,” You whimper, another shudder running through you as his cock presses against a spot deep inside you, “I want you to cum with me please, I need- I need to feel you.”
Chibs groans, pressing his forehead against yours as your bodies mold together. “It’s alright, sweetheart, let go. Cum for me, cum on my cock.” He coaxes you over the edge, rubbing circles over your clit as you let out a broken cry, clenching tightly around him as you reach your climax. He follows you quickly, letting out a quiet moan as he fills you with his seed.
~~~
You poke your head into the garage, “Filip! What’s the status on the gold century? The customer wants an update.” He shouts a reply and you shoot him a smile, turning pink when he returns it with a wink.
“When did you become Filip?”
You can hear their jeers at his reply even through the door and you groan, grimacing when you turn around and see Gemma looking at you with a smug smirk. You glare at her, “Don’t even start.”
“So… he a good lay?”
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dallianceangel · 4 months
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𝐈𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐃𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐬 💀
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summary: in which happy pays you a late-night visit to your dorm room.
pairing: happy lowman x fem!reader
word count: 331.
warnings: swearing.
author's note: i found this prompt on google and decided to run with it, attempting to write without taking too many breaks. here's the result, i hope you enjoy x
💨 comments, likes and reblogs are highly appreciated 💨
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After attending yet another rowdy club party, you call it a night at around 11PM.
Settling yourself underneath the covers in your dorm room, you close your eyes and immediately relax. It's not until you hear the door open and close and footsteps coming closer towards you that you open your eyes, finding your secret boyfriend standing next to the bed.
“Have you got a death wish?” you ask Happy, knowing full well what would happen if your Dad, Clay, was to find out that a fellow Son is in a relationship with his long-lost daughter.
He whispers back. “Maybe.”
You know he's not a man of many words, but you have come to understand him in ways that others don't, seeing a side to him that he's never shown to anybody else. Happy doesn't need to say a thing for you to know what he wants, you can just sense it.
“Five minutes, that's all you're getting.”
He smiles. “Thank you.”
Settling himself in his favourite place—your arms—you can't help but smile. You never thought Happy would prefer to be the little spoon, but he surprisingly does. Pressing a loving kiss to the top of his head, Happy breathes a sigh of contentment in response. If life had a pause button that could make this moment last for as long as possible, Happy would press it.
“I fucking love you, Happy Lowman.”
“I fuckin' love you, baby girl.”
Losing track of time is what the pair of you do best. Five minutes pass, and you're still spooning. Every single second that he's here is a risk, but neither of you have the courage to part ways for the night. It seems that nothing can tear you both away from each other, until something does.
“Did you just fart, Hap?”
He whispers back. “Yes.”
“It's okay, release your demons.”
You soon come to regret what you've just said, as he lets rip and ultimately leaves your room stinking to high heaven.
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wickedthroats · 1 year
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a get to know me series that no one asked for                                      sam’s favorite tv shows ( 7 / ? )
            ↳ sons of anarchy, 2008-2014                ❝ it ain’t easy being king. ❞
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imaginesmai · 10 months
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You stared at yourself through the long-standing mirror that had a crack on the left side. The dress was long, but simple, and had a lacey design of sunflowers that matched the bouquet Gemma had chosen for you. The long sleeves made with lace looked elegant and soft, covering your whole arm and finishing right at your wrists. There was no long train, no veil or crown, nothing but the dress that made you feel like a princess.
It didn’t belong to Jax’s room, where last night events were still present. The empty bottles, the cigarettes on the ground, the crumpled sheets on the corner of the bed.
A pair of your panties on the chair.
Last night was wild, but you were much more at ease that right then. In front of the mirror, in your weeding dress, you felt like throwing up.
“You look beautiful” Gemma said from the door. “Are you ready?”
“I look like a flower vase. And I guess I am”
You didn’t look at her as she came closer. She was wearing a black, tight dress that left little to imagination, but that made her look like the queen. Standing in front of his mirror, in his room, the doubts appeared for the first time. Because, what if you were rushing things? What if you were invading his family?
It hadn’t been a rushed decision, months of planning and years of dating, but with Jax it was never easy. You had known each other since you were children, playing in the street with Opie and Thomas. As Piney’s daughter, you had grown in the club, between bikes and guns. And through the years, you had found your home in Jax’s arms, and he had made its way into your heart.
Gemma turned you around until you were looking at her, and she gave you a soft smile. The first tear decided to roll down your cheek, threatening to ruin your make-up. You tried not to think about the past, about your father being killed by Clay or your brother dying in a rotten cell from a cruel beating.
Last year had been heavy on you, on the club. You had delayed the weeding until everything was solved, and you thanked Jax for being so patient. But now, minutes away, you didn’t know if you were ready.
“What’s the matter, baby?” she caught the tear before it could do any damage.
“I don’t know” you said, feeling your chest becoming tight and heavy. “I don’t know”
“It’s okay to feel nervous. You’re about to take a huge step”
“I just – I know the club if my family, Gem, but… I wished they’d be here” you tried to stop the next tear. “They aren’t”
“Oh, Y/N. Come here”
You let yourself fall against her shoulder, careful not to ruin the dress.
There were things that you were certain about, like loving Jax, wanting a life together and doing anything for Abel. But you weren’t sure about many others. The constant beef with other clubs and organizations, your role in Abel’s life, the responsibilities of becoming the wife of the club’s president. Just last night, naked and drunk, Jax and you had dreamt about your shared life from now on, and you would have thought you were invincible.
But you had learnt that good things didn’t match your lifestyle, that you weren’t that lucky.
You didn’t know how much time you spent between Gemma’s arms, just hugging her tightly and waiting for your fears to go away. It was stupid, because you had gone through horrible things together, but somehow marrying felt like the last straw.
Once you were sure you weren’t going to break down, you took a deep breath and broke away.
“You sure you’re ready?” she asked, gripping your forearm.
“Yeah. Just – yeah”
Both of you had decided that you wanted a simple weeding, just the club and a few friends, so the club had been the chosen place. A friend of the club would officiate the wedding, and then, you had rented a catering service for the day. It was simple, and easy, but you couldn’t convince your heart to play along.
You walked down the familiar hallways, now empty, holding onto Gemma’s arm. In silence, you begged yourself to enjoy the day and forget about the past.
When you saw him waiting for you, with white shirt and denim trousers, you felt those worries slipping away.
Jax had been worried that you would change your mind, that something had happened, so he had sent his mother looking for you. After last night, he had left you to get changed and get everything ready with the boys, who didn’t help calm his nerves. What did help was finally seeing you walking towards him, as pretty as a dream.
He had chosen the only shirt he owned, had ironed his trousers and cleaned his sneakers, and he felt like the tramp as you were his lady. No matter how well he cleaned himself or how much effort he put into the details – he would never catch up with you.
Abel, who was holding the wedding rings next to his father, moved around with a nervous laugh.
“She looks beautiful, right?” Jax told him, not tearing his eyes away from you.
After what felt like forever, you finally made it to his side. Gemma took away the bouquet and you leaned for a kick kiss from Abel, who laughed once more before leaving. Everyone got up as the priest started talking, but you only had eyes for each other.
For Jax, it was hard to believe he was actually there, that he deserved it. That you had said yes and were about to become his wife. You stared at his blue eyes as he told you about it without a word, just with his side smile and the utter devotion he looked at you with.
“Not too late to change your mind” he half-joked, holding your hand.
“Same thing” you whispered back, squeezing it. “You sure about this?”
You were sure, and Jax too, but in your line of life, it was hard to believe when things turned out to be good. He had been your anchor through the years, and having a ring on your finger wouldn’t change it or make it better. It was only another step you were willing to take with him, one of many you had yet to take.
The way Jax stared at you while the priest continued with the ceremony cleared any doubt you had about it.
“I love you, darling” he answered after a moment. “I’m not going anywhere”
569 notes · View notes
drakoneve · 7 months
Text
Long Run
request: Just something cute and sweet for tig with a gn reader, please? Anything, bro I'm starved.
pairing: Tig Trager x gn!reader
word count: 600+
warnings: mention of a cartel? typical club shit
a/n: I LOVVVEEEEE this man <333
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Three years into your relationship with Tig, you should be more than used to long club runs. And, for the most part, you handled the separation well.
You could keep yourself busy with work, chores, and upkeep at the clubhouse with Gemma and Tara while the boys were gone but this work would only last so long.
Tiggy kept in contact as much as he could on the road with calling in between stops and in the evenings while on your drive home. There was the old "what happens on the road stays on the road" club rule, but since the beginning of your relationship Tig made a promise to be loyal to you and he'd yet to break it.
You'd known his reputation with men and women of loving and leaving them before ever getting involved with him, and so you'd made him promise.
This run is different, however.
The club made a special trip to Santo Padre on a favor to Marcus Alvares to help the local Mayans in town handle some cartel business, and before anyone knew it their one week in Santo Padre had turned into three.
It's why tonight you sat alone in the home you shared with Tig, cuddled up in blankets on his side of the bed watching old Criminal Minds reruns.
Being on his side of the bed, resting your head on the pillow seeming infused with Tig's favorite cologne (the one you'd been getting him since your first anniversary together), brought you the comfort of Tig while he was gone.
After several episodes and half a bag of popcorn later you'd finally begun to dose off when you heard it... the soft rumblings of an approaching motorcycle.
Out of habit you reached for the spare gun in the drawer of Tig's nightstand. Before him you had never shot a gun, but after the incident with Tara and Margaret being kidnapped incited Tig to teach you to defend yourself, which meant being able to use a gun if necessary.
You crept your way into the living room to peek out from behind the window curtains to see exactly who it was pulling up in your driveway.
Even though his helmet covered most of his hair, you could see Tig's small curls poking out the bottom, unruly as ever. He shuts his bike off and begins to remove his helmet and you decide you just can't take it anymore.
You abandon the gun in your hand on one of the couch end tables before heading out the door, barefoot and wearing one of Tig's shirts.
Tig raises his head when he hears the door, confused at first, but his gorgeous smile overtakes him as he realizes it's you coming for him.
You go as fast as your legs will carry you, throwing yourself against Tig's broad chest and wrapping your arms around his torso. His arms follow suit, wrapping around you and pulling you up off the ground for a moment before setting you back down, yet his arms don't release you.
"What are you doin' awake at this hour, baby?" he asks, voice muffled in your hair as he breathes you in. "You've got work tomorrow. Well, today, actually."
"Missed you," you confessed into his chest. Finally you bring yourself to pull away slightly, taking in Tig's face.
The bags under his eyes were slightly more defined than when you last saw him, but his blues sparkled down at you with excitement.
"You've been gone far too long, Tiggy," you scold playfully. "I don't think I'm letting you leave me ever again. I don't like it."
His blue eyes flicker over your face as his hands cup either side. "I don't wanna be away from you either, baby. You're everything."
Tig pulls you into a soft kiss. He never moves his hands from your face as he pulls away just slightly, resting his forehead against your own.
"Let's go inside, doll." Tig peppers kisses across your face. "I'm in desperate need of some lovin' from my baby, okay?"
"Mmm," you hum, unable to stop the smile spreading across your face. "I can't exactly say 'no' to that, can I?"
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sogoodtoheritsvicious · 11 months
Text
Jax Teller relationship hcs!
warnings: None.
a/n: No gifs are mine unless stated otherwise!
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• Who said “I love you” first? Jax did! You guys had been dating for a few months at that point and he just knew. He said it while you guys were on a date at the beach.
• Who would have the other as their lockscreen? You would and the picture is always being updated! Right now it’s a picture you snuck of him while you guys were baking.
• Who leaves notes on the bathroom mirror? You both do! Cute little things like “love ya!” “lookin’ good!” “have a great day!”, just things to make the other smile.
• Who brings the other souvenirs from the places they visit? Jax does! He obviously travels a lot more than you because of the club and he always makes sure to bring you back keychain or a postcard from wherever he stops!
• Who kisses the other awake in the morning? you do. that man is NOT waking up til noon unless he has to lmao
• Who surprises who at work with lunch? it’s usually you but on rare occasions jax will be the one doing the surprising!
• Who was nervous on the first date? him, surprisingly!
• Who kills the spiders? oh, that is all jax!
• Who loudly proclaims their love while drunk? he does and it makes you blush every time, doesn’t matter how many times he does it. the guys always tease him the next day but he feels no shame
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bullet-prooflove · 21 hours
Note
The scream I scrumpt when I saw you were writing for David Hale 😍
Please could I have the prompt “You let your clothes fall to the floor And lit a fire while I waited for more” for my favourite sherif?
Thanks!
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The first time David takes you away it’s to his family’s cabin in Mount Shasta. It’s a rustic holiday home that his grandfather built in the 60s when he needed to escape his wife and kids. It played a significant role throughout in his childhood, his father bringing him and Jacob out here to fish and hunt on the weekends, it’s the closest he’d ever felt to the other man.
You love it, he can tell by the way your face lights up when you step over the threshold. There’s a peacefulness in this space that you can’t get in Charming,  a serenity you feel as soon as you step onto the mountain. When it starts to snow later on that evening you sit by the window and watch it for hours, your sketch book in your lap.
It’s as he lights the fire that the mood starts to change, the darkness edges in and the glow of the flames bathes the room in a sensuous glow as he sits on the sheepskin rug, blowing out the fire lighter.
When you come to stand before him, you have that look in your eyes, the one that makes him fall in love all over again. He watches as you take off your clothes, the sweater first and then the jeans, each layer like the petals of a rose in bloom. He kisses you when you  come to straddle his hips, your fingers hooking the hem of his t-shirt as you draw it up over his head. His own denim follows after that until you’re both tangled up naked in front of the fire, the heat of it warming your bare skin.
When you sink down on his cock, his entire body arches up to greet you, his palms coming to rest on waist as he buries himself deep. You ride him slowly, long, teasing motions that keep him in dire straits underneath you. You know exactly what you do to him, how much you ruin him, he can see it in your eyes. His hand reaches for yours, fingers entwining as he draws you closer, his lips brushing over you as the climax begins to coil and build inside him. His breathing hitches, his thumb ghosting over the apple of your cheek as his skin flushes.
“Baby…” He warns you but it doesn’t matter because you’re right here with him.
You come together, your molten core gripping him so tightly that he can barely remember his own name as he spills his release inside you. You kiss him in that moment and you don’t stop until every ounce of pleasure is wrung out of him.
The chill of the air begins to creep in and David grabs the blanket from the couch, tucking it neatly around you as he cradles you close. You fall asleep like that, tucked into the shelter of his body, the fire still burning in a cabin at the top of Mount Shasta.
Love David? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.
Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee
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@Keyweegirlie @EryBerry109 @Thump31 @nerdypinupcrystal
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garbinge · 4 months
Text
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
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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
165 notes · View notes
drabbles-mc · 4 months
Text
Nowhere To Be
Opie Winston x F!Reader
For one of my favorite people, @justreblogginfics with the prompt: The party was great but now it’s time to find their way home, in the middle of the night in the freezing cold in high heels and a party dress.
For @storiesofsvu Holiday Bingo 2023 prompt: New Years
Warnings: 18+, language, implied/referenced smut, pining
Word Count: 1.8k
A/N: I have missed Opie so much, so thank you for giving me the inspo and the opportunity to write this fun little somethin' for him! Happy New Year! 🥰💖
SOA Taglist: @espieviolet99 @littlekittymeow @i-just-read-stuff @fuckyeahopie @withmyteeth @buckybarneshairpullingkink @paintballkid711 @jitterbugs927 @fanfic-n-tabulous @mijagif @frattsparty @choochoo284 @artemiseamoon @darqchilddaydreamz @nessamc @garbinge @winchestershiresauce (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)
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“It is cold in California!” you said, exasperated.
Opie chuckled as he stood beside you. Part of him wanted to make a comment about the fact that you knew that, that you’d grown up in Charming just like him. Sure, you’d been on the East Coast for a few years but it wasn’t nearly long enough to wipe your memory clean of it. Plus, you’d been back in Cali long enough to have not made this mistake—you were just too tempted by the idea of a party and getting dressed up and going out.
He wanted to say all of that, could have, but instead he just said, “Yeah, it is.”
Turning to face him, you huffed out a sigh. “Why is it cold in California? I thought it was supposed to be all beaches and sunshine here.”
“You probably wouldn’t be so cold if you didn’t—”
“I look good,” you cut him off, knowing exactly where his sentence was going. “That’s not the issue here.”
“I mean,” he shifted so that he was pressed closer to you, his fingertips dragging up the side of your leg that was left exposed by the short dress that you’d worn to the party, “this feels like it might be part of the issue.”
You rolled your eyes, glad that you could say the goosebumps breaking out over your skin were because of the cold and not because of the feelings and thoughts that were coursing through you at just the slightest touch. Despite your initial impulse, you swatted his hand away.
“You didn’t seem to think it was much of an issue about an hour ago when we snuck off to the bathroom and—”
“Alright,” it was his turn to cut you off, chuckling as he did so.
He shrugged off his leather jacket, one of the million layers he always seemed to be wearing whether it was the first day of January or the last day of July. He held it out for you to take and for as much as you liked giving him a hard time, you weren’t quite committed enough to that endeavor to turn down the opportunity for some extra warmth. You snatched it out of his hand and slipped your arms into the sleeves, feeling relief not just because you immediately felt warmer, but also because the jacket smelled like him and there was comfort to be had in that too.
“Thank you,” you said, leaning into him, hands pressed against his chest.
He smiled. “Welcome.”
You tilted your head just a little farther back so that you could get a better look at him. He had one arm draped around your waist, hand resting on the small of your back. His other hand was placed on your hip, not holding you too tightly but it also would’ve taken some effort if you really wanted to pry yourself away. Not that you had any interest in that.
“Can I tell you something?” you asked.
He scanned your face for a moment, wishing that he had any idea at all where your next sentence was going to go. He knew what he wanted you to say next, but he also knew better than to hold his breath over it. Plus it was New Year’s Eve, or rather New Year’s Day by hardly an hour. And you were drunk not just off the alcohol you’d both had all night but also from the energy of the party. He knew better than to get his hopes up, and yet.
“Confessing crimes already? Year just started,” he joked.
You laughed and shook your head. “No, no crimes.” You leaned a little more onto him, taking the weight off one of your feet. “Ugh, these heels are killing me. I can’t even think.”
“Yeah, I don’t think that’s why you can’t think.”
You laughed, giving him a playful shove. “Shut up.”
“What’d you wanna—”
You cut him off, not meaning to, but you were already moving onto the next thing. “We gotta get back to the hotel. Because if I have to stay in these shoes any longer, I’m gonna,” you laughed, “then I’m gonna commit some crimes to confess to.”
He chuckled. “You remember how to get back?”
You turned and looked at him. You tried to hold in your laughter and failed. “No.”
He wanted to be annoyed but he had sort of seen it coming. It wasn’t surprising, to say the least. “This was your idea,” he teased as you pulled out your phone.
You waved him off. “Going out was so much easier before.”
“Yeah? Why’s that?”
You looked up from the GPS on your phone for a moment so that you could look him in the eye. Keeping your tone and facial expression as serious as ever, you said, “Because all the streets in New York are fuckin’ numbered, Ope.”
The statement hung in the air for a second between the two of you before you both started laughing. Opie shook his head at you, knowing that if it had been anyone else he would’ve left them to their own devices awhile ago. But it was you. He wasn’t going anywhere if it was you.
By the time you got yourself somewhat back under control, your GPS had loaded directions for how to walk back to your hotel. Lucky for you, it wasn’t as far away as you thought that it was going to be.
“I got it,” you said as you showed him your phone.
“Let me see that,” he replied, reaching to take the phone from your hand.
You swatted him away. “Hands off! You don’t think I know how to get us back?”
He raised his eyebrows slightly. “You want my real answer to that?”
You rolled your eyes. “I know how to follow a map.”
He shook his head, reaching for your phone again. “You don’t even look like you know how to follow a sidewalk right now.”
You gestured angrily at your heels. “That’s because of these shoes. Honestly, you might just have to carry me back.”
He chuckled, following behind you as you set off down the sidewalk in the direction your map was telling you to. “Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah.” You looked over your shoulder at him. “That, or you can just drag me behind you like a caveman.”
He fell into stride next to you. Draping his arm over your shoulders, he said, “That sounds more like me.”
“Yeah, goes with the caveman beard you’ve got going on now,” you joked, reaching and toying with the ends of his beard for a moment. It was so much longer than it had been the last time you were home. Jury was still out on how you really felt about it—it took away the last of his baby-face.
He shook his head, knowing that you were always going to come up with something to give him grief about. Of the many things that had changed over the years, that was something about you that had remained constant. Infuriating and amusing all at once. He let you have that.
“Stick around long enough and you’ll get used to it,” he finally said.
“I told you,” you leaned deeper into his side for emphasis, “I’m back for good.”
He liked the sound of that, but he knew better than to buy too heavily into it. He pressed a quick kiss to the side of your head. “We’ll see.”
“Where else am I gonna go?” you asked, your mock offense not landing the way it should’ve when you were nearly tripping on the gaps in the sidewalk concrete.
He steadied you without having to give it a second thought. “Don’t know.” He chuckled. “Right now I don’t even think you’re gonna get us back to the hotel.”
You gave him a shove, not enough to really make any difference. Even on your best day in much steadier shoes it would be difficult to get him to move if he didn’t want to. All the Winston’s were like that. Your half-attempt only served to make him pull you tighter into him, which worked better for you anyway.
His hand was still resting on your shoulder, fingers pressing into the leather of his jacket that was yours for the present moment. Like it was a reflex, you reached up with your free hand and threaded your fingers with his as the two of you walked. You gave his hand a light squeeze as the two of you reached the end of the block. You gave him no warning that the two of you were turning rather than continuing forward and using the crosswalk. You knew it, too, laughing as you made a sharp right turn and pulled him with you.
You were lucky enough to catch him mid-stride, knocking him just enough off-kilter to make him follow your lead. You hadn’t been expecting it to work, and you nearly stumbled and fell in the process. Laughing, you took another half-balanced step until you felt your back rest against the side of the brick building behind you. Opie had followed your steps, his palm bracing against the wall beside your head, one leg positioned between both of yours. Your shoulders shook as you tried to hold in your laughter, your face heating up so much you were certain that if Opie touched you, he’d be able to feel it.
You placed your palm against his chest. There were words caught in the back of your throat, things that you wanted to say, things you’d been wanting to say all night, but you couldn’t get them out. You opened your mouth, hoping that would force them out, but all that came out instead was laughter that faded into a hum as you tried to get yourself under control.
When you finally resigned yourself to not being able to say anything, you slid your hand up from his chest so that it was on the back of his neck. You pulled him down into a kiss, one that he gave into easily and eagerly, pinning you between him and the wall behind you, his hand that wasn’t bracing him against the wall gripping tightly onto your hip.
His hand slid down from your hip onto your thigh, and he was about to start sliding it right back up and underneath the thin fabric of your dress. You could feel it in his movements, the way that he had to convince himself to stop. You couldn’t help but to smile into your kiss, eventually letting the laughter bubble over when he pulled his lips off of yours.
Your body was still pinned, not that you had any desire to really be anywhere else in that moment. You let your hand stray from the back of his neck. Your fingertips ghosted along his cheek, brushing along the edge of his beard. Maybe it wasn’t so bad.
“Never gonna make it back at this rate,” Opie finally spoke up, not that he really seemed like he was in any great rush to go.
You laughed, head resting back against the wall behind you. “Got somewhere else you need to be?”
He smiled, shaking his head before snagging another kiss from you. “No. I got nowhere to be.”
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silverflameataraxia · 17 days
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saralou23 · 7 months
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