#soa prompts

[voxmortuus]

Hi baby. Saw the prompt list. 😎 May I have #5 ☆ { calling } them late at night to come over for Jax Teller, please?

Thank you. ♥

⇘ PAIRING:⇙ Jax Teller x F!Reader ⇘ UNIVERSE:⇙ Sons of Anarchy ⇘ WORD COUNT:⇙ 1.1k ⇘ TRIGGER WARNINGS:⇙ Fluff | Smut | Jax and his filthy mouth (language) | Foreplay | P-i-V | Pull-out Method | More fluff | PLEASE TELL ME IF I FORGOT ANYTHING!!! I want to make sure readers are fully aware of what they are getting themselves into when they read this… ⇘ NOTES:⇙ Sorry if this is total ass... but I hope this brings you some joy. ⇘ DIVIDER CREDIT:⇙ @nyxvuxoa ⇘ IMAGE CREDIT:⇙ This was found through Google and is not my GIF, if this is your GIF or know whose it is, please inbox me, so I can credit the creator. Thank you! ⇘ My Master Masterlist ⇙

It was just one of those nights, there's only so much scrolling you can do before things become repetitive, and boring in your feeds. Flipping between Tumblr, Reddit, and Facebook, things were becoming boring, and nothing was helping you fall asleep. Tapping the side of your phone, you flip through old photos, smiling now and again looking over Jax's face. Sitting up in bed, you check the time, 12:24 a.m. Sighing, you decide to give it a shot, chances are Jax was up anyway, so why not.

Scrolling down and finding his name, you hit the call button, and wait. Ringing you groan, maybe he was --

"Hey, Darlin'. You alright? What's up?" he asks, you can tell there's a smile on his face.

"Hey, Baby. I know it's kinda late, but would you mind coming over... I can't sleep... and I could use the company." you bite your lip a bit.

"Yeah, sure, I'll be over in 15." he stated.

After the brief conversation and a quick I love you and a hangup, you go unlock your door, knowing he'll lock it when he gets here.

Hearing the motorcycle approach, and the engine turn off, you feel this bubble of excitement pulse through you. It was a matter of time before you heard your front door open, close, lock, and the sound of boots headed your way.

Peeking his head in, he looks over you, and you smile, moving over you pat the empty space in your bed and gesture for him to join you. Taking the hint, he makes his way over, slipping off his vest and coat, tossing his hat on the table, and kicking off his boots and socks, he slips into bed.

"Your pants... your shirt... are in the way." you smirk.

He chuckles and standing back up he takes them off, dropping them to the floor before climbing back in under the covers. You scoot yourself closer, and he wraps his arm around you, pulling you close.

"Can't sleep?" he asked you.

Nodding, your fingers move over his chest as you look up at him and smile. "Thank you for coming over."

"It's nothin' Darlin'. I've always told you I'm a call away." he kisses the top of your head.

A soft smile graces your lips as you scoot a little closer to him and let out a small satisfied smile. But you seem you can't keep your hands from wandering on him. Slipping under the blanket, you keep your gaze on him as you move over his boxers. Smiling, you bite at your lip and kiss him sweetly.

A slight chuckle escapes his lips as he pulls you closer to him, his hand roaming your figure as he moves you to lay on top of him, holding you close, his hips move upward a bit, kissing you deeply, and he slips the shirt from your body and tosses it to the floor along with his clothes.

Pressing yourself against him, your hands move up along his sides and find your way to get tangled in that love head of golden locks. The kissing gets a little heavier between you two, the touching, how you press your hips against him, feeling him harden against you. You move your hand between your legs as you grip him through his boxers. He groans against your lips as he grips your breast, pulling you closer, and kissing you deeper.

The kissing, the touching, the grunts, and the groans were enough to send you into a feral mind. Moving his boxers down, you slip him right between your lips, your hips press yourself down, pressing him deeper inside you. You both end up groaning in unison.

His grip on your hips is tight, his fingers pressing hard against your flesh, indenting as he thrusts upward just enough to finish that last little bit you wanted to slip inside you. The streetlights are the only thing illuminating the room, your shadow cast on the walls. Looking over, he watches your shadow as you brace yourself against his chest and begin to move up and down on his cock.

Holding your thighs in his hands, he watches the way you move against him, your hands pressing into his chest as he moves his own up your body, feeling your flesh under his hands was a sort of high for him. He presses a hand against your chest, between your breasts, as he slowly guides your motions as he thrusts upward.

As you are being guided with a hand on your chest, one on your hip, and his cock between your legs, your head falls back as you let out a loud, long, drawn-out moan. Your body trembles as you pick up on the sounds, the smells, the way the air tastes. Listening to him grunt and your own moans fill the air. It's all palpable. Erotic. Addicting.

The way you both work against and with each other, it sends these shockwaves through both of you, a genuine quickie, you feel yourself building, but of course, it doesn't help with his own buildup, you can tell in his tone, in how frequent his groans become, in how his breath smells. Leaning forward, you moan against his lips. And that's when he tells you to finish with him. He lifts you up, and you grip his cock as he works your bud.

Before you know it, your whole body trembles, feeling those hot ribbons of white pour against you. Whimpering and trembling against him, you begin to pant. Achieving your desired goal, he leans against the pillow but grabs something to clean you up.

There was hardly anything spoken between you two. But you lay there, holding him close, you look up at him as he stares down at you.

"You feel good." you chuckle.

"What even was that?" he chuckles.

"I think it's called a quickie. You should be used to those." you poke.

"Ohh, is that what that was? I like those... but next time... we do a longie... not a quickie," he smirks.

"I'll play with your longie." you chuckle.

"No, Darlin', we call it a cock, longie.... please no." he chuckles. "Besides, I like the way the word cock escapes your lips." he smirked.

"You like your cock between my lips Jax..." you joust.

Gasping he chuckles. "That is true... gotta say, you're a good cocksucker." he winks.

The night continued into the morning, and eventually, you had both fallen asleep. His arms wrapped around you, his face in your hair, and you clung to him like your entire life depended on it. You were glad you called him over, much needed, and the sleep was much better with him there.

[thorougly-melted-brains]

Simon finds out Soap is alive a year later. It doesn’t feel real, some defense mechanism kicking in as soon as Price admits it. He’s still drifting when days later, after a plane ride he barely remembers, he’s led to a hospital room.

The building is unassuming, civilian, big enough for amenities but not in a major population center. It’s perfect for harboring a dead man, Ghost notes distantly.

The nurse has barely opened the door when he hears him, it, because it has to be a trick. A gruff voice and creaking laughter he’d resigned himself to never hear again. He’s surprised his legs carry him through the door.

Inside is a phantom of Soap, softened by time but obviously aged. His hair has grown out, choppy and curling, sloppily pinned back from his ears. It’s barely morning, winter again, the early light makes him shine like an idol. His hair glints in the sun, including a few new white strands.

He looks at Ghost, flecked with silver and gold, and Ghost all but collapses. He’s knelt next to the bed before he knows it, hands clasped, eyes blurring. Soap grabs Ghost’s hands in one of his, his face in the other. His hands are chilled slightly, but softer. His callouses have deteriorated, no gun to roughen them.

Ghost accepts that he’s real.

Soap tilts his head up, and looks down at him with bright eyes,

“Miss me, LT?”

[brunettemarionette]

Can I have a fluffy request for Happy Lowman with cute, blanket and love.

​🇲​​🇦​​🇮​​🇳​ ​🇲​​🇦​​🇸​​🇹​​🇪​​🇷​​🇱​​🇮​​🇸​​🇹​ 💜 ​🇧​​🇮​​🇷​​🇹​​🇭​​🇩​​🇦​​🇾​ ​🇵​​🇷​​🇴​​🇲​​🇵​​🇹​ ​🇷​​🇪​​🇶​​🇺​​🇪​​🇸​​🇹​​🇸​

Laughter echoed softly through the living room as you and Happy settled into your favorite spot on the couch. It was cold out, and fall was officially here.

The fire crackled gently, casting a warm glow over the room. You snuggled deeper into the thick, knitted blanket that covered both of you, which you had to force over his lap.

"Do you think they're cute?" you asked, glancing at the TV playing a corny romantic comedy. You bit your lip, suppressing a giggle at the characters' antics and the plot's ridiculousness.

Happy chuckled, his signature smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "Sure, but not as cute as you," he teased, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine.

You felt your cheeks heat up at his words; he always had his own way of making you feel special, even when he was teasing you. You scoffed lightly, tossing a handful of popcorn at him, laughing as he expertly dodged it.

"Stop it, or I might just fall in love with you all over again," you teased, your heart racing at the thought, but it was always easy falling for him over and over.

He turned serious for a moment, his blue eyes locking onto yours. "You know I'm already in this for real, right?" He leaned in closer, the warmth of his body mingling with the soft blanket enveloping you both. "You're mine… and I'm yours."

You felt your heart swell with love at his words, knowing Happy wasn't exactly the poster child of commitment before you. "I know," you whispered, smiling back at him.

Happy reached out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers brushing against the softness of your cheek as he captured your chin, leaning in for a kiss.

As the movie played on, you both settled into a comfortable silence, the blanket cocooning you in a sense of safety and warmth. A softness that no one would believe could come from the Tacoma Killer.

"Want to get a Chinese food and watch another shitty movie?" Happy asked, breaking the stillness as he glanced down at you.

"See, always saying the right things to make me fall for you again," I joke as I smile against his lips. "We can, but only if we can share it under this cute blanket,"

"Deal," he said with a grin, and you felt him pull you even closer.

The fire flickered, and the movie continued. You revelled in the simple joy of being in love with him, wrapped in your own little bubble, a world away from everything else.

Nothing mattered in these moments; anything outside of this didn't exist. Not the club and their problems, not the guys or Gemma. Just you and Happy cuddled up watching crappy rom-coms.

[cloveroctobers]

FEBRUARY FLUFF — JUAN “JUICE” ORTIZ.

A/N: Juice was always my man when it came to SOA and I’ll forever be traumatized and bitter over his storyline + how he was treated. That’s probably one of the reasons why I’ll never do a rewatch tbfh. In my mind he’s thriving and I’ve always wanted happiness for him and that’s what he’s gonna get here! Also my first time ever writing for this man so go easy on me although this is more HC (my version) form. Have a happy love day whether it’s with a significant other, family, friends, or just yourself! know that you’re always worthy and capable of receiving and giving love and not just on this one day of the year 🩷🫡

PROMPTS ARE FROM HERE + I’m using: 19. "can i see your hand?" / "sure, why?" / "so i can see how well it fits with mine." + 35. "let's take a stupid walk for our stupid mental health!"

જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩

When you got word from your mother that Juan was back in town for good, you had to see so for yourself.

January’s always been gloomy but when you came face to face with the man you haven’t seen in years at the front door of his mother’s, you wanted to collapse but managed to keep your composure.

Juan’s sad but somewhat still warm eyes are unsure at first, taking in your facial expression but you clear his concerns as you’re yanking him tightly to your body in a tender embrace.

And he feels like he might just break down himself in your arms.

You were just what he needed.

The both of you had to make up for lost time and Juan had to keep convincing you that he wasn’t going anywhere.

Things didn’t work out in his favor in California (little did you know, he barely made it out alive) and Juan never wanted you to visit, although your older brother and his girlfriend, Saskia lived out there—which means you took trips but in a sense you learned to accept that was Juan’s way of protecting you from the demons that latched onto his soul.

You couldn’t take it personally since Ms. Hilda, his mother never visited either but spoke to him every couple of months—which may have been hard or if not harder for her.

Although the both of your mother’s were good friends that didn’t mean the both of you didn’t have your share of childhood trauma’s (because of them) that bled into your adulthood.

Nonetheless the both of you spent a month reconnecting, taking each day by day as it took to rebuild a friendship.

It felt right having Juan back in your life and he can honestly say the same.

“I never knew how much I missed you until I saw your face again,” he said to you over the phone one night.

Juan’s always been a sweetheart and never had an issue expressing his love for you to the point many kids back in school questioned if you were dating.

It never happened but that didn’t mean Juan didn’t want it to yet you found yourself in a few relationships here and there. Which was brought up by your mother during a birthday dinner for your brother (who was visiting) that February.

“I find it hard to believe that you’re still single. I mean hell, when is anybody going to give me a grandchild?” Your mother chatted over a glass of Cabernet playfully glaring at your brother who cleared his throat before setting her eyes back on you, “You know I saw Marlon just the other day?”

You fought the urge to roll your eyes at this. You’ve only been at the table for ten minutes, supposedly going over the menu and yet here your mother was worrying about children and your love life.

And she just had to bring your college ex into it.

“Really,” you gave faux interest as you viewed the entrees.

“Mhm. He’s been divorced for a few years now and he’s single. I even showed him a picture of you to see if he remembered you. He laughed about it and said he thought you were with Juan now.”

Your brother is coughing now on his own drink and his girlfriend of four years is patting him on the back.

Glancing to your right you stare at Juan rubbing at his face in thought, who mentally seemed to be having a tough day today. He stayed at your house last night and apologized over breakfast about how he got into these dark moods.

You assured him that he didn’t have to apologize for his feelings. Asking if he wanted to be your plus one tonight, only if it was up for it.

He’d push through it for you because he was devoted to being near you as much as possible since he didn’t want to lose anymore time with his best friend.

How would Marlon assume this? You’re turning back to your mother now, furrowed brows while you reply, “why did he think that?”

“He said he saw the both of you running around the park together. He wanted to say hi but you and Juan seemed to be racing and he didn’t want to interrupt.” Your mother informs, staring at you two underneath her eyelashes with her lips moving back to the rim of her glass.

This didn’t make you feel any sort of way because you also haven’t seen Marlon in years either. You weren’t really checking for him but—the breakup didnt turn sour—it was mutual! however it was interesting to see different perspectives on how people viewed you and Juan.

Juan was gone from New York by the time you both reached your early twenties and by then you were still with Marlon. Juan would visit up at school and hung out with you two a couple of times! even when Marlon tried to put him onto some college girls…there was a part of Juan that felt like he was guilty of something.

Even when he engaged in activities—sure it may have felt great in the moment but he always ended up feeling like shit since he wanted it to be you.

So yes you were part of the reason why he got out of New York and to find a better sense of direction for himself.

You’re shrugging your shoulders redirecting the conversation, “well..I’m sorry things didn’t work out with his wife.”

“Are you?”

“Mom! Chill.” Your brother stepped in which you were somewhat thankful for. Why were you always getting shit on when you knew it was on the tip of your mother’s tongue that your brother “should” be thinking about marriage since she hinted at you once before during your girl’s day.

Although you and your dad both were aware that your brother didn’t want to get married.

“I’m just saying you should think about it or what about that guy from high school? The funny looking one.”

“They were both goofy to me. Especially Stu.” Your brother snorted while you shielded your middle finger from your mother to direct at your sibling.

Your first boyfriend was senior year and he cheated on you with a redhead because he got dumped prior to asking you out. It made sense to him but definitely not to you.

Yeah that’s highschool stupidity for you!

Juan shuddered at the mention of your first boyfriend, “man that guy? He was ridiculously obnoxious in and outside of class and hung out with that other guy…the one who gave me serious serial killer vibes.”

“You did always say that,” you laughed to yourself and couldn’t deny it. You never wanted to be alone with Stu’s best friend at the time, the way his dark eyes bored into yours always made you feel uneasy.

“He’s harmless!” Stu would persuade you before always leaving you with him for at least a minute or two.

Your mother pried, “Well where is he now?”

“Hell if I know? Probably married to another redhead with three or four kids? Still possibly cheating? What is this, a walk down memory lane?”

Juan could sense you were getting agitated about this and placed his hand right above your knee which made you exhale.

Your mother is raising her hands, “I’m just looking out for you and your brother’s happiness. That’s all.”

“I am happy. Go dig in his business then, it’s his birthday anyway.” You suggested while your mother just scoffed.

Raising your brows, your mother continued knowing that you were always ready to challenge her, “I will but when’s the last time you’ve been in a serious relationship?”

“Are you the expert when it comes to relationships now? You waited six months after the divorce from dad to get married to someone else. You settled for dad’s bullshit for years and now suddenly you want to micromanage what goes on in mine? Are you keeping this same energy with your step kids?”

Your brother is calling your name as a warning now but you couldn’t lie and say you weren’t triggered.

growing up having your mother constantly in your ear saying to you, “you’ll never get a bf because of xyz.” Simply from little stupid things you would do as a pre-teen to teenage years was damaging because you were just an insecure kid not worrying about romantic relationships in the slightest. Although you had a mother who seemed to be more concerned about the male gaze for you.

So what if your room got messy? So what if there were days where you didn’t want to be bothered with your hair? Or was too much in grown folks business when your mother would gossip on the phone about inappropriate subjects right in front of you! while also bringing up all of your business to her friends or family members like some sort of humiliation tactic and then never taking your emotions into account when you voiced your discomfort?

Don’t get it wrong, of course you had love for your mother but you couldn’t erase what was said and done. A list of things that still stuck with you and things that you should perhaps just “let go of,” yet she still felt comfortable to talk about your love life like you were some low self-esteem kid.

You never had that relationship where you felt safe to share anything with your mother because of her critiques.

“Hold on now, I’m just trying to make conversation—

“You don’t need to. Not when it comes with an opinion i never asked for to match.”

Then comes the tears and Saskia is tending to her, whisking your mother away to the bathroom with her crying to Sas about how she, “tries to be a good mother and these are the things she gets.”

“Did you have to do this on my day?” Your brother sighs while your eyes are in slits.

“You and dad are the exact same, always expecting me to just take it. I don’t give a damn if it was Easter, if she’s coming at me then I’m going to let her know. I know she’ll always be mom but she refuses to ever see my side on anything.”

“Why does it have to be about sides? We’re family at the end of the day.”

The famous excuse for it all so it seems!

“And we must always be on some we are the world bullshit too, no matter what huh?”

Juan covers his snort at this, which earns him a look from your brother, leaving Juan to mumble out an apology.

It’s quiet for a moment as your brother tries to figure out how to make this okay but you don’t want to stick around to continue this dinner. In your eyes it felt ruined already.

Only seconds pass when you decide it’s best if you go. You’re on your feet, slipping back into your outerwear before wrapping an arm across your brother’s shoulders squeezing him as you peck his temple.

“Love you, mean it. I’ll take you out myself at another time.” You say as all your older brother can do is nod his head, briefly resting his hand on top of yours before you let go.

You’re peering at Juan who’s still seated and say, “want to take a walk with me?”

“Sure, whatever you want, yeah!” He sits up before grabbing his beanie and jacket, “I don’t care.”

You quickly begin to walk off before your sas and your mom come back, sending a silent message to your old friend that you’ll be outside.

Your brother tells Juan, “look after my sister, okay?”

“You got it,” Juan says, wishing the older man another birthday wish before making his way out to you.

The both of you are now walking side by side, enjoying the city’s lights and each other’s company.

“Thanks for coming with me. The longer I sat there getting into it with my mom the faster my brain was telling me to get the fuck out. I figured: let's take a stupid walk for our stupid mental health!"

Juan chuckles at this, “I know what you mean. I also had a disagreement with my sister too before I crashed at yours.”

That revealed just a dash about what led to Juan’s mood last night.

“Yeah?” Your eyes peep to the left of you at the beanie-wearing man, “You want to talk about it?”

It wasn’t much different with what went down with you and yours. Except Juan’s mother was the one to break it up and scold him for defending himself against his sister.

She still felt like he didn’t have himself together (despite the fact that he was now working at a mechanic shop and had a side tech gig at an outlet mall—paid under the table now! If you’re talking about his mental then that was a different story!) either and was the main one who told him not to go out to California. She begged him to stay and that began their estrangement.

His sister blamed him for his own unhappiness and if he would have stayed here maybe he wouldn’t have dealt with that darkness charming brought him.

Which hurt to hear.

He walks even closer to you now as he said, “nah, not really if that’s okay?”

“What?” You lightly bumped his shoulder, “Course it is, just know you can when you want to.”

He gives you a lopsided smile, “Thanks.”

You loop an arm around Juan’s waist, resting your head against his shoulder, as you blended into the city together.

Juan’s dreamed of times like these except you were miles apart but hearts still in sync.

The silence between you two lets you know that you’re both holding onto something so heavy but find that it doesn’t weigh as much when you’re both near each other.

By the time you’re making your way back to your side of town, one subway ride later and more miles to walk back to your place—the night feels like any normal routine.

Eventually the both of you fall into chatter and soft smiles as you continue your rest on the subway, head tucked underneath juice’s chin that his facial hair still pricks your thick hair but you don’t mind.

You’re both laughing about old times when you reach your 1975 raised ranch, half standing on the steps and you’re wiping the tears from the corner of your eyes, “you coming in?”

The last thing Juan wanted to do was head back to his ma’s side of town so a dip of his head was all that you needed, sending him a smile and a nudge of your head to welcome him back inside.

“We gotta eat something although you’re really not supposed to eat after seven…”Juan says to you after kicking off his shoes and heading straight from the main entrance pass the living room right to the kitchen.

“I forgot how much of a health freak you are.” You tease, hanging up your coats in the near by closet.

Juan’s mumbling to himself as he moves around the cut off kitchen, “And you need more fruits and veggies in here. What’s the point of having a juicer and having nothing to use it?”

“My common law sister in law? If you believe in that sort of thing! got it for me. It works as decoration,” You argued, “I can just go buy me a fruit or veggie juice.”

“And be wasteful of this beautiful gift?”

“If you want it, I’ll regift it to you for a belated Christmas gift then.” You sass, going to lean in the archway.

Juan shakes his head while he’s eyeing all the ingredients he’s laid out on the counter, “no point in doing that if I’m just going to be over here majority of the time anyway.”

“Oh is that right?”

“I mean…yeah…if you’re comfortable with that.”

You roll your eyes, “I’ll take you for as long as I can have you, Juanie and you know that.”

He casts a smile over his shoulder at you before waving his hand along formally towards the dining room, “have a seat. This won’t be anything extravagant since your selection of food kinda sucks…we’ll talk about that later but I need my work space clear.”

You saluted, “heard chef,” before you walked into the next room over.

Which leaves you to send off a text to your brother letting him know you both made it safe before choosing to browse social media.

The words of your mother did get into your head as you’re sitting here searching up your two exes and you laugh to yourself at how foolish you were being. You haven’t though about either of those two in a long time, not in the same way you thought about Juan nearly every day.

Yet here you were letting your mother get into your head again: about two men that didn’t hold meaning to your life now.

“Bon appetite.” Juan tells you after awhile, placing the plates down on the table and picking the seat right next to you.

“And what do we call this meal?”

“P.O. In 10. Which stands for: party’s over in ten minutes.”

You both stare at each other and let out a laugh, “how clever.”

A struggle meal of: ground turkey on ranch Doritos topped with cheese and left over black olives with a side of strawberry moscato was your dinner for that night and you didn’t dare complain.

Juan’s gone into one of his rapid conversations of one of his old friends, a guy named chibs that he would have loved for you to meet and of course you find it sweet that he still found someone to speak highly of when he’s vaguely told you that all was not well in charming.

“can i see your hand?" You suddenly ask the man who’s grown out his hair and sported facial hair that made him appear older.

Juan’s finishing off the last of his homemade nacho’s, stuffing his face but doesn’t hesistate as he places his smooth veiny but much larger one into yours, “sure, why?"

You’re tracing the lines of his palm and recall the time the both of you went to a palm reader on senior skip day for shits and giggles although Juan seemed to believe every word the lady said.

He said he had a great t��a from Puerto Rico that he met once or twice who was very spiritual but different from a palm reader. His mother got pissed off when she brought her work to the house that one time when she was supposed to be looking after him and his sister.

That soon became Juan’s job.

You wondered about how these hands had to scrap their way through just to survive.

Then you explain, “so i can see how well it fits with mine." Before interlacing your right with his and Juan can’t help but to grin at you.

And there’s that boyish smile that spreads to the corners of his eyes that you can’t resist while he speaks with you, “You’re so cute, you’re corny. If you wanted to makeout, all you had to do was just say so.”

You don’t think about it, “alright, maybe I do.”

“What?! Don’t joke like that.” Juan’s eyes are wide now, ready to slip his hand right from yours.

“I’m not.” You lift your shoulders as Juan sits back in the chair with a sigh.

Juan’s staring at you with a curiosity that makes you want to look away but you can’t.

“What if all we needed was to just be honest with ourselves and look at what’s directly in front of us.”

“…I don’t follow.”

“Us, Juan! I always felt like i was waiting for something, even with the others after Stu and Marlon. There was always this pull and maybe that was you…and if this is all in my head just say that. You can tell me.”

Juan rubs at his face in thought. He already knew how he felt about you and how it never went away.

“No…it’s not all in your head. I don’t know if you know this but…you’ve always been it for me and I—learned to be okay with just being your best friend since that’s what you always wanted from me. I thought moving across the country was the answer but that only hurt us more.”

“Part of me felt like you didn’t care who I was with. You just took it for what it was.”

“You’re so wrong,” Juan scoffed out some laughter, “I just wanted you be happy and not be selfish about wishing it was me that got to do everything with you all the time. They took my space.”

You instantly reply, “Never could.”

“No?”

“No, blockhead.” You lightly grip and shake his shoulders.

“Now we’re down to the insults I see.”

You shrug with a smirk, “Let me kiss you…just to see.”

“See what?” Juan felt his heart hammering in his chest now, “That we’re completely in love with each other? A kiss won’t tell me what I don’t already know, babe.”

A scrunch of your nose is present, “Not you sounding like you don’t want to kiss me—

“What—no—

Sighing you got up from the chair and plopped right down in Juan’s lap, wrapping your arms across his shoulders and staring into his eyes that softened as they settled on your close proximity.

“You smell nice,” he awkwardly says, carefully placing his hands right down on your hip.

You laugh as you move your hands to cup his face, lightly caressing your thumbs over his facial hair, looking at his lips and then back to his eyes before you lean forward to place your lips right on his.

His hands tighten around you but his shoulders seem to relax. Juan can’t hold back the moan in the back of his throat that escapes his parted lips but that doesn’t stop him from kissing you back.

There’s tongue in there somewhere in the mix and the hold the both of you have on each other is enough to erase the miles that were once placed between you.

His hooked nose brushes against yours as you pull back, eyes closed and trying to catch your breath. His forehead rests against yours and Juan has to clear his throat and blink several times in hopes of getting rid of the static that sits in the center of his bottom lip.

“Wow,” he exhales with a grin while you’re playing with the strand of curls at the back of his head.

A satisfied smile is on your face, “What was that shit you were talking?”

“I wasn’t talking shit,” Juan frowns, “I was just saying that my heart already knows what it wants without putting my lips on yours. I loved you the moment your mom forced you to be my friend.”

You shake your head with a smile, “that didn’t take much force, Ortiz. I always thought you could be the one.”

“And…you never said anything why? That would have saved us a lot of time!”

You shrug, “I think our love story is meant to start now.”

“Nope it’s been a W.I.P. but now the progress is actually progressing…”

You squint, “With both of us tasting like Doritos and strawberry wine?”

“If it makes sense to mother universe then who am I to argue with her?”

“At least one of us gets it then.” You kiss his cheek and go to move off his lap but he yanks you right back, burying his face into the crook of your neck.

“Yeah, that maybe love’s always got our back in the end.”

“So…that’s what’s poking me right now?”

Juan feels his face burn, “Sorry—I—couldn’t help it.”

“I could—

“No. Nope. Not yet, let me just hold you and get used to the fact that I get to kiss you from now on. If…we get to labeling each other that is.”

“You want to be mine, Ortiz?”

“Don’t tell me you can’t tell.” He groans pressing his forehead into your shoulder leaving you laughing.

“Only if I get to be yours.”

“Fuck yeah!”

You nuzzle your face against his profile as you hum, “I’ll love you even more for the rest of my life Juan Carlos Ortiz…sounds like a plan?”

And he feels his heart swell at that, knowing that he didn’t have to be alone anymore the longer he had you in his arms.

“Sounds like the best plan, yet. And I love you too, so much.” He gently says into your ear before you turn to him again, capturing his lips once more.

જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩

February fluff anthology series continues here.

[ravennaortiz]

A prompt list dedicated to Post Malone!

Return to Request Page

You probably think that you are better now, since I'm not around

I had some help. It aint like I could make this kind of mess all by myself.

Callin' it quits now, baby, I'm a wreck,Crash at my place, baby, you're a wreck

You thought that it was special, special,But it was just the sex though

You break me, then I break my rules,Last time was the last time too

Didn't know that was your girl when she gave me top 

You weren't lookin' for me, I wasn't lookin' for you,That's the thing about love, it's gonna do what it do

Two sets of keys on a hook by the front door,But this house don't look like home no more

I aint got a guy for that

I got a thing for the finer things

Trouble in some daisies, holdin' out her thumb,Stole some sucker's money, now she's on the run,And she wanna get high

.And she might be wearin' white, but her first dress, it was pink She might be your better half, yeah, but she's my everything

I'm just lookin' for the right one But them wrong ones keep lookin' at me

He paid me off to leave, and let's just say he paid a lot

Who needs you when I can break myself in two?

But don't break your back for me I'll put you out of your misery

[daisydamed]

i have all this creativity in my brain and no inspiration, if anybody wants to send me ANY prompts for jax teller PLEASE do, i need an outlet

[mysticalmallard]

Silence

Description: Happy is in a bad mood, he doesn't want to talk about it.

Word Count: 839

Warnings: none just Happy being a grump

SoA Taglist: @arkytiorlecter @aimkatsz @ravennaortiz @darqchilddaydreamz @mischiefnevermanaged89-blog @hatersaremymotivators @theshynerdsworld @thefrogytimes @youngadult9016

♥︎ If you wish to be added or removed from this taglist comment or message me ♥︎

SoA Masterlist ♥︎ Main Masterlist

Happy was in a sour mood for some reason. He was sitting on the couch in his apartment. He wore only jeans, and was glaring at the wall behind the TV, like he could set fire to it through the power of his thoughts alone.

His girlfriend wandered in, took one look at his expression and frowns a little . She crossed over the floor and leaned against the arm of the couch right next to him.

"Babe, something up?" She asked, reaching out to gently caress his shoulder. Her touch usually served to soothe his temperament, but today it was not having the same effect. His frown deepened slightly and he didn't react beyond a tiny huff out his nose as she touched him.

She was beginning to get a little worried. Happy was usually a very pleasant, but somewhat stoic person. He didn't often get into moods like this, but on the rare occasions that he did, they were often rather intense. She knew from past experience it was best to let him talk when he was ready, rather than trying to badger him into talking.

So, she stayed where she was, patiently stroking his shoulder and back like you would in an attempt to placate an irate animal, but it seemed to have no effect.

Happy sat in absolute silence for several minutes before he finally spoke."Bad day," he grunted finally.

His girlfriend didn't outwardly react to his words, but internally, she was a little relieved. The fact that he was at least talking was, in her experience, a good sign. She was careful to keep her replies low and soft, not wanting him to think she was trying to aggravate him.

"Want to talk about it?" She asked gently.

"Don't really feel like talking," he replied, a slight edge in his tone. He leaned forward and rested his forearms on his thighs.

While not necessarily an angry gesture, it wasn't a particularly positive one either. Happy wasn't the kind of man to share his emotions openly, even with the woman he loved.

He sat back against the couch, stretching out his long legs with a hefty exhalation as he did so. He remained sitting like that for a moment, just listening to her moving around in the kitchen.

She hums, standing walking into the kitchen.

Happy's eyes flicked up to follow her as she walked away. He watched in silence as she padded into the kitchen, disappearing from view, the sound of the floor creaking slightly under her feet.

After a moment or two of silence, his girlfriend returned, carrying two bowls full of cereal. Happy immediately recognized them as his favorite, prompting a slight raise of his eyebrows in surprise.

He hadn't expected her to do something so considerate, his foul mood leading him to believe she would likely be just as pissed at his behavior as he was.

A hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he watched her put the cereal down on the coffee table and turn on the TV.

Cartoons flickered to life on the screen, which only furthered his smile.she grab her bowl and joins him on the sofa next to him but still making sure to leave space between them, not saying a word. Happy eyed her silently, studying her profile as she watched the cartoons with an air of calm patience.

Her lack of reaction to his mood was perplexing to him. His ex's would usually comment on his grumpy mood in a teasing manner, yell at him for ignoring them, or at the very least ask him to lighten up. Yet, she said nothing, simply sitting there, eating her cereal.

He felt his frown gradually soften somewhat, the calm atmosphere and the cartoons slowly beginning to have a positive effect on his mood. He remained quiet for a few more moments as they sat in silence, the only sound being the chirping of cartoon characters and the quiet clinking of their spoons against their bowls.

The longer he sat there, the more her lack of reaction began to feel like an absence instead of a presence. It was strange not having someone poking at him to talk about his feelings. It wasn't entirely unwelcome, but it was certainly different.

He glanced over at her again, taking in her composed expression, the curve of her jaw, the way stray strands of her hair dangled over her shoulder.

Then, he did something unusual, even for him.

He wordlessly scooched himself closer to her until their bodies were almost touching.

She looked up at him with a hint of surprise in her eyes, her gaze flicking from the cartoons for the first time since she sat down. The faintest trace of a smile tugged at her lips, betraying her otherwise neutral expression.

She didn't move away when he shuffled up to her, allowing his shoulder and hip to press against hers. She waited patiently, not commenting, not questioning, just content to be close to him.

[bad268]

Backpack (Jax Teller X Reader)

Fandom: Sons of Anarchy (Yes reqs are open for SoA)

Requested: Day 1 of Writing Inktober prompts instead of drawing!

Warnings: none.

POV: Second Person (You/your)

W.C. 547

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

Writing Inktober 2024 Materlist

~~(^Pinterest)

“Jax, would you ever let me be your backpack?” You asked as you were sitting in Jax’s backroom of the clubhouse. He had just attended a meeting with the boys, and since you couldn’t stand the smell of oil anymore of the day, you retreated into the back of the house. “I’ve never really seen the other guys and gals ride the backs, so I didn’t know if it was an unspoken rule or something.”

“You’d want to? I didn’t think you wanted to,” Jax commented as he took off his vest and laid down on the bed next to you. You rolled over to rest your head against his chest, feeling the weight of the day melt away. “Have you even ridden a bike before?”

“What do you mean? I work with bikes every day?” You asked confused. “And, of course, I have. Why else would I know almost everything about bike maintenance?”

“Exactly, you work with them. Didn’t think you liked going on rides,” Jax replied simply as he propped his head up to look at you. You also pulled back to sit up while Jax moved to lean against the wall behind the bed. “Do you actually wanna go? Didn’t you say you were scared of bikes?” “Jax, I used to ride a bike. I used to have a 2001 Deuce Softail,” You deadpanned with a smirk. “I haven't driven one since I crashed before moving to Charming. I want to get back on one. I just never knew when.”

“We can go now,” Jax offered, already moving to get his vest back on a a couple of things he had taken out of his pockets before the meeting. He threw an arm over your shoulder after you stood up, and he led you through the clubhouse and toward his bike. “You can be my backpack for now, and eventually, we can get you back on a bike. I’ll see what I can do about finding a 2001 Deuce Softail for you. Now, put the helmet on.”

“What are you gonna wear?” You asked as you slowly took the protective device from him, but you completely forgot how to adjust the straps. “Help me?”

“Come here,” He chuckled, taking the helmet back before putting it on your head and tightening the straps to fit you better. “I have an extra at the house. I’ll just start having both on me in case you wanna backpack.”

“Assume I always wanna backpack for you,” You joked as you leaned into his body and kissed him before pulling back when a few of the boys started making wolf whistles at you two. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Climb on,” He held out his hand after he got on the bike and gestured for you to get on behind him. You eagerly grabbed his hand and got comfortable behind him before wrapping your arms around his waist. “I have two rules. Don’t say go faster, and don’t say race ‘em. Got it?”

“I think Chibs is challenging us to a race,” You teased, even though Chibs had left hours ago. “I think we should race him!”

“You’re making a deal with the devil,” Jax muttered, but that didn't stop him from smiling and revving his bike. “Hold on.”

~~~~~

© BAD268 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

[narcosfandomdiscord]

First off, your fc for Tig's daughter, those BABY BLUUUUUEEEEESS I MEANNNNNNNNNNNN

10/10 casting. Idk who she is but she's perfect.

Also can we all moment of silence for this exchange -> “Big talk for someone who doesn’t know who they’re talking to.” “If I don’t know who you are, then I have no reason to talk small” and Even on her best days, sorry was not a word that came easy to her. Bc if that's not Tig's daughter idk who else she could be, like the nuts it takes to say that to a presumably dangerous stranger, an enemy of her dad's no less, no tengo mas remedio que admirar los huevos ssksjkfj

Also the "hey T" familiarity had me positively melting on impact even tho I don't even remember who Kozik is exactly except that he and Tig once shared custody of a dog like an old divorced couple skdjsfkjsk no but in all seriousness this had me so engaged, i think i'm in loveeee??????? like i really am just such a sucker for teh kinda couple where like the woman is so obviously in-charge in more of an overtly masculine way(whatever that means but yall get me ksjdfks). Consider me Tawnie convert

Untouchable

Herman Kozik x OC Tawnie Trager

For @narcosfandomdiscord Book of Just Chaos: untouchable

Warnings: 18+, language, violence, blood/injury, hurt/comfort, takes place during s2

Word Count: 3.6k

A/N: this pair of crazy kids is BACK! i haven't written for them in so long and I've honestly missed them so so much. this is a switch-up from the usual fun vibes that i usually write for these two, and i lowkey wanna write another part for this, but i'm not gonna make promises i can't keep lmao. hope y'all enjoy!

Tawnie had always been a bit of a magnet for trouble. Whether she was out there actively looking for it or not, it always seemed to find her regardless. She never seemed bothered by it—all part of being a Trager, was what she would always chalk it up to. There was no way that someone could be raised and live under the same roof as Tig and not have a habit of landing themselves in hot water.

For years, she was ducking in and out of scrapes. When she was a teenager, just being young and reckless with her friends, the fallout of it was always manageable. But she wasn’t a teenager anymore, and the stakes these days were much higher than they’d ever been. Getting mixed up in the wrong things now no longer just meant that someone would have to post bail and get stared down by Deputy Hale.

In Tawnie’s defense, she hadn’t been the one who started it this time. All she had been trying to do was go to the liquor store and grab a few bottles of things to bring to the clubhouse for the party later. It should’ve been a trip that took all of five minutes, maybe closer to ten if she got distracted looking at all of the labels in some of the aisles. Regardless, it shouldn’t have been a situation that ended with anyone getting hurt.

The shop’s plastic shopping basket was hanging in the crook of her arm, a couple bottles of the vodka brand that she liked laying on the bottom of it. She understood why they bought the cheaper stuff for the clubhouse, because it wasn’t as though the guys ever paid attention or gave a shit anyway. That didn’t mean that she wanted to feel like she was drinking lighter fluid, though.

She was reaching to grab a whiskey bottle off the top shelf when she heard a man’s voice behind her. He wasn’t loud, and with the way that he’d said, “Hey,” she didn’t even think that he was talking to her.

When he said, “Hey,” again, she could tell that he was standing right behind her. “I was talking to you.”

Tawnie wrapped her fingers tightly around the neck of the whiskey bottle she had been trying to grab. Pulling it down off the shelf, it dangled by her side as she turned around to face whoever it was that was trying to talk to her.

She had turned around with her usual air of confidence, and it didn’t falter as much as maybe it should have when she had to crane her head back slightly to look up at who was speaking to her. Seemingly unperturbed, she cocked an eyebrow. “I don’t work here—I can’t help you.”

The man looked her up and down, and Tawnie wasn’t sure if he was sizing her up or trying to figure out what he was supposed to say to her at that point. Whatever his motives were, Tawnie had to assume that he wasn’t trying to figure out a pickup line to use on her.

“You’re Trager’s kid.”

Her grip tightened a little more on the bottle. Narrowing her eyes slightly, she replied, “Let’s say I am—who the fuck are you?”

She didn’t recognize him, and he wasn’t wearing a kutte or anything else that would place him with an MC. Him knowing the connection between her and Tig, however, was enough of a red flag for her to know that whatever this man wanted, it probably wasn’t really about her at all.

“Big talk for someone who doesn’t know who they’re talking to.”

“If I don’t know who you are, then I have no reason to talk small.”

Tawnie had spent enough of her life putting on acts depending on who she was in a room with, so keeping a look of indifference on her face while her heart was hammering inside her chest was nothing new. The man was larger than her, and she had to assume that his jacket pulling tightly in certain points along his shoulders and arms wasn’t because he purposely bought it a few sizes too small. But they were also still on SAMCRO turf, and they were standing in the middle of a liquor store, so she had a little faith that if nothing else, those two things would still work in her favor.

She didn’t turn her back on him as she went to side-step and get around him. Even so, she wasn’t able to get very far. The second that she wasn’t pinned between him and the rack of bottles behind her anymore, he reached out and snatched her by the arm closest to him, the one holding the basket.

He let out a low laugh as he shook his head. “Oh no,” he tugged her back towards him, “you’re not going any—”

Whatever line of threats he was planning on saying to her never made it past the base of his throat as she swung her other hand with everything that she had, the whiskey bottle colliding with the side of his head. She heard him grunt in pain, and she saw thew way that the bottle started to show some minor cracks along the side of it, but even so it didn’t force him to release the grip that he had on her arm. She felt the way that his fingertips dug into her even more, blunt nails starting to break the skin, and with a yell that was a little louder now, she swung the bottle at him again one more time.

This time when it hit the side of the man’s head, the bottle fully shattered. Glass shards went everywhere, the neck of the bottle breaking and slicing into Tawnie’s palm. Between the liquor and the broken glass pieces that were digging into the side of his head, the man released her with a string of curses. Without a single moment of hesitation, Tawnie dropped the basket to the floor and sprinted towards the front of the store. Before she even got to the end of the aisle, the owner who had been at the register appeared to try and see what was going on. He held his hands out like he was asking her to stop and talk to him, but rather than abiding by that, Tawnie shoved right past him, leaving blood from her palm smeared across his shirt in the process.

“Tawnie!” the shop owner called after her. His shouting didn’t even cause a falter in her steps. She sprinted out the front door, the bells chiming on it giving a strange air of whimsy to her departure of such a horrid scene.

She didn’t even feel herself digging her car keys out of her jeans pocket as she ran down the block to get to her car. Quickly unlocking the door, she flung herself inside the car. Jamming the key into the ignition, she tried not to think about the way that she was leaving bloodstains on everything that she was touching. She pressed her foot down hard on the gas pedal, speeding down the street.

The road took her right past the liquor store again, and she could see the store owner yelling at the man who had just tried to attack her. She didn’t take her foot off the gas, but she still tried to get another look at the mystery man’s face as she sped by, his facial features not streaked with whiskey and blood. He looked like he could’ve been anyone, no tattoos or scars to speak of. She went to tighten her grip on the steering wheel from nerves and was instantly greeted with a sharp jolt of pain across her palm that shot right up to her shoulder.

Eyes still on the road, she leaned and felt around on the passenger seat for the burner phone that the club had given her. She always felt a little idiotic having a second phone, especially when she communicated with several of the club members on her regular one, but times like this seemed like the perfect reason to use up some of the minutes that were on there.

Up until the point when she was about to hit the call button, she’d had every intention of calling her father. She knew that it was something that he needed to know about, and it was something that he would probably be the one who handled it in the end. But right before she hit the button with the tiny green phone etched into it, she stopped herself and started over again.

Picking the second person on speed dial instead, she pressed the phone to her ear. With each ring that she had to wait through, her hands trembled more and more. With her holding her hand up, the blood from her palm was starting to trickle down her wrist and the rest of her arm, and it felt like a burning sensation even though she knew that wasn’t what was happening to her.

Right when she thought she was about to burst into tears or steer her car clean off the street into a random storefront, she heard the click of someone answering on the other end of the line.

“Hey, T,” Kozik’s voice came in calm and smooth.

“H-hey,” the short word still managed to get stuck in her throat on the way out.

There was a pause, and when he spoke up again his tone had shifted. “What’s wrong? Where are you?”

“I’m on my way to your place. You’re home, right?” she felt the way that her bottom lip was starting to quiver and tried to ignore it, tried to keep the last few shreds of composure that were keeping her together.

There was rustling on the other end of the line as he said, “I will be in ten.”

The feeling in her chest was as close as she could get to relief in the given circumstances. “Okay.”

“I love you.” Even with all of the uncertainty surrounding whatever the situation was, there was no waver of questioning in his voice when he said that.

Tawnie let out a short breath, one that she had been holding without meaning to. “I love you too.”

She hung up without any more of a goodbye than that. Snapping the phone shut, it dropped into her lap as her hand began trembling violently. The adrenaline of the situation could only blind her for so long, and the ache of pain was getting worse as the minutes ticked by. This wasn’t the usual type of trouble that she had to call anyone about. This trouble, this danger, felt too real and far too close to home.

Any other day, she would’ve been worried about how Kozik managed to get there not even a minute after she did, his bike skidding to a stop in the driveway. He practically threw his helmet once he took it off. Before Tawnie could blink, he was on the driver’s side of the car and opening the door for her.

He was halfway through asking her if she was alright when he saw the blood all over her. His eyes popped open wide, and he was fighting the urge to just climb into the car with her to check her over. The sight of her like that raised a million questions that he desperately wanted immediate answers to, but he stopped himself.

“C’mon,” he said instead, leaning in to loop his arm underneath hers and across her back, “let’s get—”

She flinched away from his touch, not quite ready for the sensation of someone else touching her. It was impossible to miss the pained look on his face, but she didn’t have it in her to apologize. Even on her best days, sorry was not a word that came easy to her. Right now, though, an apology was the last thing that Kozik was looking to get from her.

He stepped to the side and allowed her to get out of the car on her own. “Let’s get inside.”

He walked behind her as they made their way up the short driveway that landed them just off to the side of his house. His neighbors had learned quickly that even if they wanted to be nosey, it was better for them if they weren’t. Still, he walked behind Tawnie and checked their surroundings, also looking to see if anyone had followed her to his house that he needed to worry about.

Reaching around her, he unlocked the front door and pushed it open for her. She silently walked inside, wishing that she felt a little more at ease now that she was with him and safe inside his house, but she couldn’t manage it. It was the first time in a long time that Kozik had ever seen her so quiet.

With her good hand tightly gripping the wrist of her injured one, Tawnie made her way through the house to the bathroom. Kozik followed her, wanting so badly to reach out and try to comfort her with a hand on her shoulder or the small of her back but knowing that it wouldn’t be any help to her in that moment.

She was about to crouch down to open the cabinets under the sink. “Is it—”

“Sit,” he said, motioning to the toilet that had the lid down. “I got it.”

Tawnie nodded, doing as he instructed. Kozik tried not to think about how tight her grip was on her own wrist, or the look that she currently had in her eyes that he didn’t know how to piece apart. He busied himself with turning the sink on so that the water could start to run warm while he got the first aid kit out. Grabbing a clean washcloth from the drawer, he got it damp with warm water and held it out to her in an offer, thinking that she might want to wipe off her arm and what she could of her hand herself if she didn’t want him touching him.

“Thanks,” she said, nearly mumbling as she started to scrub at the blood that was quickly drying on her skin.

He nodded and got into a kneeling position in front of her as he waited for her to finish. She tossed the bloody rag into the sink. She looked at her own hand for a moment, taking in the damage that was done in earnest for the first time since it’d happened.

“Fuck,” she said, her voice steadier and clearer than it had been before.

With the first aid kit open on the floor beside him, Kozik held his hand out in a wordless question to allow him to see what the damage was and what he could do to help. Tawnie hesitated until she looked him in the eyes and remembered where she was and who she was with. Then it came easy, offering her hand out to him to inspect. His touch was gentle despite the callouses on his palm and fingers.

“Jesus,” he said, trying to hide the reaction under his breath but failing.

Tawnie let out a weary chuckle. “Promising.”

It got Kozik to crack a smile, hearing the sarcasm come back into her voice like that even if it was just for a moment. The relief that it brought him was momentary as well as he got back to looking at the state of her hand. The cut was deep—deep enough to need stitches. And while he could do a lot to help take care of her, that was one thing that was outside of his area of expertise.

Looking up at her from where he was kneeling, he gave a small shake of his head. “This is deep, T.”

She wasn’t sure what she was supposed to be saying to that. “Okay?”

“You’re gonna need stitches and I,” he chuckled weakly, “I can’t do that. I can call—”

“I don’t wanna see anyone right now,” she stopped him before he could get to the end of his thought.

As much as he didn’t want to argue with her in the state that she was in, he also didn’t want things to get worse for her because she didn’t want to get her injuries taken care of. “You gotta get this looked at by a doctor.”

“Am I gonna bleed out before tomorrow?”

“No, but—”

“Then just wrap me up for now and tomorrow I’ll give The Good Doctor a call, alright?”

She phrased it like a question, but Kozik knew her well enough to know that there was only one answer that she’d accept. With a sigh and a nod, he started rooting around the kit he had for disinfectant and the waterproof bandages that he could wrap her hand up with.

He waited until he was about to start really cleaning out her wound before he asked her any questions. “So do I get to know what happened?”

Tawnie shook her head, not in a denial of an answer, but as though now as she was thinking back on it, it seemed so ridiculous. “Some guy came at me when I was at the liquor store today.”

“What guy?”

She shrugged, instantly followed a wince as he flushed out the cut on her hand. She tried to pull away from the pain but Kozik tightened his hold on her so that she couldn’t. It was going to feel way worse before it started to feel any better—they both knew that.

“Some random guy,” she finally said, gritted out through the pain. “Knew Tig’s my dad.”

Kozik raised his eyebrows. “What’d he look like?”

Tawnie was fighting the urge to clench her hand into a fist. “Big fuckin’ dude. Took two hits to the head with a whiskey bottle before he let me go.”

He nodded knowingly. “That explains the hand.”

She shrugged. “I was working with what I had.”

“Did he say anything to you?”

Tawnie shook his head, watching him as he placed a few gauze pads on her palm before getting the roller bandage ready. “Not really. He asked me about being Tig’s kid, then he tried to grab me up. I hit him before I got around to asking for his agenda.” She hissed quietly as she felt the bandage putting pressure on her injured hand. “He wasn’t wearing any kind of kutte. I couldn’t see any tattoos but he had long sleeves on so who fuckin’ knows.”

“I’m sorry you’re getting caught up in all this, T.”

That time when she tried to pull her hand away, it wasn’t because of the physical pain. It got Kozik to look up at her. “What’s all this? Something going on with the club?”

He shrugged to try and make it seem casual, but the slightly panicked look on his face let her know that he definitely just said more than he was meant to. “Not…I mean…it’s the club. There’s always something going on.”

She scoffed. “Is this something the type of something that has random men coming after me in the middle of a store?”

“I—”

“Who the fuck are you guys getting into it with now?”

“Who were we getting into it with last time you asked?” He saw the look on her face and immediately backpedaled. “Sorry.” Clearing his throat, he continued, “You remember those guys who came by the clubhouse and were giving Clay a hard time about the guns?”

Her face contorted in confusion. “Them? Still?”

Kozik shrugged, like he didn’t get it either. “I know.”

“What the hell does any of that have to do with me, though? I don’t help you guys sell your fucking guns.”

He nodded. “And we are all safer for it.” He taped the roller bandage in place and sat back on his heels. Letting his expression grow serious once more, he said, “I got a feeling they’re going after people who are close to the club.” He rested his hand on her knee. “You do match that description.”

“That’s such bullshit.”

He wasn’t going to try and disagree with her, especially since he knew as much as anyone that she was right. “I know. But that’s…that’s how they operate. No one’s untouchable.”

She let out a sigh, and Kozik watched in real time as the exhaustion started to set in as the last of the adrenaline ebbed out of her. “I hate it.”

“Me too, T.” He rubbed his thumb back and forth on her knee. “You wanna shower? I’ll grab you some clean clothes?”

She nodded. “Thank you.”

Moving his hand from her knee to the sink counter, he used it to balance while he rose back up to his feet. “You call your dad yet?”

She groaned as she stood up as well. “No.”

He chuckled at her reaction. “Want me to call him?”

She chuckled. “You wanna throw yourself in front of that moving bus?”

Leaning in, he kissed her on the temple. “I’ve been run over by that bus before. I’ll be fine.”

“He’s gonna come over, you know,” she called after him as he walked towards the bathroom door.

“Wash the blood off yourself, then.”

She chuckled and shook her head as she watched him go. He was about to pull the door shut behind him when she grabbed his attention one more time. “Hey, Koz?”

He paused, leaning back so that he could see her. “Yeah?”

She gave a small nod. “Thank you.”

He smiled, that soft, boyish charm shining through despite how the day had been going so far. “I always got you, T.”

(Divider by @saradika-graphics 💕)

SOA Taglist: @garbinge @espieviolet99 @littlekittymeow @i-just-read-stuff @justreblogginfics

@withmyteeth @paintballkid711 @jitterbugs927 @fanfic-n-tabulous @winchestershiresauce

@darqchilddaydreamz @choochoo284 @artemiseamoon @proceduralpassion @nessamc (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

[sfehvn]

hi hello! saw you had requests open and were looking for some prompts to work on?

i hope you dont mind me sending in one :0

possessive or jealous astarion x reader maybe?

reader is divorced, has been for a while, but their ex and them are still good friends. it was a mutual, respectful separation, because the two had different life plans after being together for some time. ex is a great person with a kind heart (and js brilliant artificer or inventor maybe?) and decided to visit reader some time after the game. nothing nefarious, just some nice catching up with one of their closest friends.

just want a lil astarion jealousy here. how reader reacts is up to you. itd be fun if they just roll their eyes but indulge his possessive behavior a tad.

no need to follow everything to a T of course.

other reasons the ex could be visiting (if theyre an artificer or inventor) is because reader commissioned them for a ring or jewelry or something that lets astarion walk under the sun. fun ideas there where astarion sees the ex hand reader a ring, is almost heartbroken, but it turns out reader got the ring for him was gonna propose or something (ring lets vampires walk under the sun). some angst there wahaha

im so sorry this is so long, i had multiple ideas i wanted to offer but didnt wanna flood you.

i understand if you dont wanna work on this (these?). its still just a joy to share these. thanks!

green eyed devil

A/N: Thank you for the request! I hope you enjoy it! xx Rating: M (18+ minors DNI) Word count: 2,290 Characters: Astarion x Tav

━─━────༺༻────━─━

  In the months following the removal of your unwanted little brain passengers you and Astarion had been tirelessly in search of a cure for his vampiric condition. As much as you tried to discourage his masking, there were many mornings you woke to see your lover longingly staring at the covered windows surrounding your bed. Astarion would play it off cooly once the realization he’d been caught dawned on him, but he knew as well as you the agony that hid behind ruby-red eyes. The remorse ate him alive as the color in your own skin began to fade from your previously sunkissed appearance to reflect that of paleness. It stilled in comparison to his, but it was a constant reminder of the fact that, in his judgment, he’d doomed you to a life in the shadows.

  You held him close to your chest and the sound of your beating heart against his ear prompted a moment of weakness. “I feel like I’m destroying you.” His words were a shutter as they left his mouth. You place a small hand on his cold cheek at the sudden confession, commending him to look up at you.

  It was unspoken. You needed no words to tell you how sun-starved you had become and you vaguely recalled the last time you had gone out while it was still beaming. “Hey, I’m alright. We’re making decent progress and have more than a few promising leads. I’m not the slightest worried about it.” Even your reassuring smile and soothing words couldn’t placate the shame he felt.

  “Would you go for a walk at least? You thrive in the sun and instead you’re cooped up in this little room with me until sundown, darling.” You let out a sigh of disapproval and before you can argue the suggestion, he continues. “Do it for me. I can’t bear seeing you like this.” Astarion knew without a shred of doubt that one day you’d grow tired of skulking in the dark with him, given a cure was never found. He’d do everything he could to make sure it never happened. If it did, though, Astarion believed he’d have no reason to continue his miserable existence.

  After a few beats of silence, you finally nod. The look on his face was enough to tell you there was no use arguing the matter away. Evidently, this was important to him, so you sat and readied to do what he could not, what he wanted so desperately: to bathe in the rays of daylight. 

-

  You trudged about the city with no end in mind. Feeling the warmth of sunshine on your skin was a welcome change, and you soaked up the sensation eagerly. There was heavy remorse weighing in your chest at the thought of not being able to share this feeling with your lover all the while. You’re stopped in your tracks at the familiar face before you. “Tav! Well, you’re looking worse for wear.” The man teased. You grinned widely and wrapped your arms around him in a chaste embrace.

“I would say your words hurt, but it is a testament to your honesty, I suppose.” You quipped and stepped back to get a good look at him. It had been a lengthy amount of time since you had last seen him. You recall the last time you had been in each other’s company was when you had attended his wedding to his new wife, a lovely half-elf you had regularly messaged with. From said messages, you knew they had just welcomed a new addition to his family, and you felt great pride in the man he had become. While, yes, you had once shared a bed and a last name, it felt like a lifetime away.

  “You look well, Conrad. It seems fatherhood suits you well.” He did indeed look great, not a day older than when you had last seen him despite the years passed. Black hair that somehow always looked tousled and neat at the same time, bright green eyes with no darkness marring under them, and he’d taken to toning his physique since you’d been with him, ostensibly.

  You were both far too young when you had made the rash decision of running off and eloping together. Just as hastily as you two had agreed to spend the rest of your lives together, things had begun falling apart. Conrad wanted to settle and start creating a family as quickly as possible, while you were keen just the way you were. You were confident you never wanted children to begin with. Though your thoughts on the matter have recently changed, it is a testament that finding the right person has shown you things you weren’t even aware of about yourself before. 

  “Despite the lack of sleep, we can agree on that.” Conrad chortles gleefully, motioning you to follow him to a nearby bench. Once seated, he turns his body to face you. “You are a tough one to find, my friend. Amira told me you have been holed up in Elfsong for a while, and it was still much like digging through a needle in a haystack. The same old adventurer, hm?” He questions fondly, recalling your nature without abandon.

  “You could say that.” You shrugged casually. Your head quirks as if a thought just popped into your mind. “Why are you back in Baldur’s Gate? You should be home tending to Amira.” You think back to her last letter, detailing the struggles she had been having caring for their new babe. Conrad was a journey away.

  “I am here at her request.” He corrects with a wave of his hand. “It seems you and Astarion have troubled her heart with your story. She can’t stand the thought of two people so in love plagued by such great hardship. Ever the romantic she is.” You smile sadly as you remember your lover confined to the inn's room. He holds up a finger, beckoning your brow to crease as he dug into the pockets of his robe. A quiet ‘aha’ emerged as he seemingly located what he sought. He outstretched his hand to you, a simple silver-banded ring held between his fingertips. “It’s not the cure, of course. At the very least, your search won’t have to be restricted during daylight hours.” 

Your breath catches in your throat as you bite back tears at the kind gesture. “Conrad, I can’t believe this.” You whisper as he drops the ring into your palm. The magic-infused band feels almost as if it hums against your hand.

“Ring of the sunwalker. I must say, it was one of the most challenging feats I’ve committed to.” Conrad muses, clearly proud of his work. You had been in search of one to gift to Astarion but they were impossible to stumble upon and even more impossible to find an artificer who was skilled enough to conjure one up. You clinch the ring in your fist and pull the man into a tight hug, painfully aware of the tears that assaulted his robe.

  “Thank you, Conrad. I don’t know how to repay you or Amira for this kindness.” Your words were earnest, and you dab under your wet eyes.

  “No repayment necessary, Tav. You’re family to us. It pains us to know you’re in such a tight predicament. However, a visit once you and your other half are ready would be welcomed. Got to lay the law out and let this vampire know who he’ll have on his tail if he ever hurts you.” His teasing cadence elicited a laugh from you, bumping his shoulder playfully with your own.

  You two chat for a while longer before bidding goodbye to one another. “Just make sure that gets put to use, Tav. You look like you haven’t had a drop of sunlight in your life.” You reassure that you will with a broad smile.

  The walk back to the inn is painstakingly long given how eager you were to present Astarion with his new ring. The image of your lover once again bathed in sunlight made your heart swoon. When opening the room’s door you can hardly contain the excited smile on your lips. Astarion was unmoving on the bed, trying to slip into a meditative state when you entered the room.

  “The sun is still up, my darling—plenty of fun to be had out there.” There was feigned annoyance in his words but in reality, he was contented to have you back where he knew you were safe. There was something off, though. Astarion pushes himself onto his elbows and stares at you with narrowed eyes. The look made your breathing hitch, your smile faltering the slightest bit.

  Within a second, he’s in front of you, faces a mere inch apart. “What’s wrong?” You asked carefully, hand instinctively reaching for the ring in your pocket. You twiddle your fingers around it but hesitate to pull it out.

  “You reek.” He deadpans, inspecting your body as if searching for a physical sign you’d been laid up with another man. 

  “Well, that’s kind of rude.” You joked, but the silence that followed told you there was more to it than he’d let on.

  “You reek of another, my dear.” His words dripped with condescension, and you let out a chuckle, ready to explain away his worries.

  “Oh no, that’s just Conrad. He actually-” Before you could say anything more, you were pressed firmly between the solid oak door behind you and Astarion’s firm chest. He looks down on you, and you can’t discern if his red eyes radiate that of rage or lust. Perhaps both.

  “Your ex-husband. I leave you alone for all but a few hours, and you find your way into another man’s arms?” Accusatory words were whispered into your ear, the sensation of his soft lips tickling the sensitive skin. His fingertips firmly planted into your hip as he led you to the bed, pressing you roughly to the soft comforter you two had spent so many days wrapped up in one another atop. His greedy hands expertly flip you over. Your ass stood in attention before him, and he worked the skirt of your dress up until it pooled around your chest.

  Before you could comprehend his jealous fit, your underwear was ripped from your body, and his hard cock was buried deeply inside of you. You let out a moan at the sensation of him filling you. His hand slid up your back until it reached the back of your head, taking a fistful of your long hair into his palm as he plowed into you, hips slamming loudly against your skin throughout the otherwise quiet room—your back arches as you allowed him to take you. Your eyes rolled back, and you grasped the sheets tightly in your own hands.

  Astarion had become increasingly possessive of you since the Mindflayer incident came to a close. Still, you’d never put him in a position to react so passionately to any jealousy he may have felt. When his hand wrapped around you to make contact with your clit, you knew you were putty in this man’s hands. He rubbed slowly and firmly, his other hand still in your hair. You cried out in pleasure, everything in your mind melting away as he fucked you into the bed.

  “Bet Conrad never fucked you with such tenacity, hm, darling?” His words were confident, fastening his pace as he failed to receive an answer, a silent reminder that he expected a response from those pretty little lips.

  “N-never.” You stutter feeling winded from the intense pleasure coursing through your veins.

  “Good girl.” He grunted in response, finding a smoother pace. He knew he wouldn’t last much longer with how your drenched core gripped his cock, and his fingers continued their attention over your sensitive clit. “You’re mine. Understand?”

  You nod numbly as stars flood your vision, crying out with the orgasm that electrified your body. “Say it. Say you’re mine.” His words came from gritted teeth, and you obliged, the words falling from your mouth causing him to reach his completion, his seed filling you full. As he shifts to lay beside you, he looks at you with darkened eyes. “Why were you with him?” There was no hiding the distaste in his voice.

  “Before you so rudely, but pleasurably, interrupted me, I was going to explain that to you.” You hummed teasingly, sitting up beside him. Your dress rested around your knees as you did so and you reached for the ring in your pocket. You offered it out to him and you didn’t have to speak a word for him to know what possibilities the simple-looking ring possessed. 

  He slipped it onto his finger and stood from the bed. He walked to the covered window and pushed the curtains aside. There he stood in all his glory, the sun's rays illuminated against his pale skin. He tilted his head back and closed his eyes, letting out the faintest cry of satisfaction at the warmth he had so longed to feel again. You move to stand behind him, your arms wrapped around his waist. Your forehead rests against his back, and a content smile plays on your mouth. “You thrive in the sun, too.” You pointed out softly.

  “Perhaps I owe that artificer a thank you. His scent on you tells me he touched you one too many times, though. That said, I will not like it. And I will not like him.” You knew Astarion would never accept Conrad as a friend due to his possessiveness, but you knew he was thankful. That was a step in the right direction at the least.

[ravennaortiz]

Return to Request Page

With this prompt list please feel free to elaborate if you wish in the ask!

Merry Christmas

I'll let you sit on my knee

Throw that snowball and you have declared war.

Hot chocolate and chill?

You cannot threaten carolers!

What do you want for Christmas

Kissing under mistletoe is so cliche

lets go look at lights

fireplace/firepit

winter hiking

I can stuff you like a stuffing

naughty list

“The kids are gonna be pissed there’s no cookies for Santa because you ate them all.”

“I know you’ve been wanting to match sweaters. I was looking for ones you’d like to surprise you.”

“I’ve never built a snowman before.”

Secret Santa

home for christmas

Your hands wrapped around me sounds like a pretty good present, don’t you think?”

“Since I can’t ride in Santa’s sleigh, can I ride you instead?” “Sorry, what?”

Decorating the tree/ house

Christmas with kids

Christmas movies

[garbinge]

When One Day Comes

Chibs Telford x F!Teller!Reader Tig Trager & F!Teller!Reader 30 Day Fic Challenge (26/30)

Summary: An unexpected visitor turns into a trip back to Charming.

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Angsty. Mentions of violence and injury.

SOA Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics @kmc1989

Part 1 // Part 2

“Some guy’s here.” Thomas walked inside the house and interrupted your paperwork. 

Quickly, you looked up from the scattered mess on the dining room table and stared at Thomas. 

“You tell him that the market is on the next path on the highway, just like the sign says.” 

It was common for people to mix up your dirt path for the one up the road where the large farmer’s market was. It had prompted you and Nero to place a sign at the top of the path to communicate that but occasionally some idiot wouldn’t read and would make their way to your home on the farm. 

“I did, but he told me he was looking for you.” Thomas didn’t seem concerned, he was currently searching through the fridge for something to spoil his dinner but that was the least of your concerns. 

As you stood up, you continued to ask your nephew more questions. “Did he say anything else? Give a name? Say why he was here?” While Thomas had his back turned to you, you were casually grabbing your gun from the lockbox that you kept hidden by the back sliding door. 

“Nah, just that he was looking for you, he looks weird, curly hair, sunglasses– looked stressed.” He had a mouthful of something in his mouth as he spoke, still staring into the fridge. 

“Alright, probably just someone trying to sell us something.” That wasn’t uncommon either, you’d get a lot of sales people to come try and sell you farming equipment, get you to join their local markets, all typical for the size of land you had. But it didn’t take away from your visceral reaction to move towards protecting yourself. That was a habit that was engraved in you from your days in Charming and you’d find that just because you got out of the toxic town, the Teller ways stayed close to you regardless. 

“Oh–he didn’t have a car, looks like he walked from up the path.” The kid still was half in the conversation as he spoke but that detail was one that alerted you that maybe this wasn’t someone trying to sell something, and maybe there was something more happening here. 

Not knowing what you were walking into, you tucked the gun in your waistband and draped your shirt over it before placing your hand on the sliding door handle. “Alright, do me a favor? If you see Nero, tell him to meet me outside.” It was your backup, you didn’t want to alert the young boy and scare him, you knew he had been coming in from his daily chores which meant there wasn’t going to be much that would pry him away from his playstation for the rest of the day. 

As you cautiously walked outside, practically scaling the side of your back porch to get a look at who was there. Your hand was behind you, ready to grab the gun as a threat and if needed force but when you saw the wrinkled button down shirt that was pacing up and down the dirt driveway, your shoulders dropped. As you exhaled out and closed your eyes to shift your mind from one issue that was now nonexistent to the current one you were facing, it was loud enough to grab your visitor’s attention. 

Now, the curly haired man was looking in your direction, taking his sunglasses off to get a better look and calling out your name in a questioning manner. 

“Yea, Thomas had me convinced you were a hitman.” You were now moving down the stairs of your porch and onto the dirt driveway to meet the man. “But I guess he wasn’t too far off.” 

“Your words, they hurt me.” He faked his heart breaking as he grabbed it and made an excruciating face. 

“Tig.” You nodded as you approached him and he immediately stood straight up from his display of acting and brought you in for a hug. 

“Hey, doll.” The squeeze was tighter than you expected but you chopped it up to being years since you last saw him. “Sorry for the surprise visit,” his voice was in your ear before he pulled back and then pointed over his shoulder, “I–uh, tried to be a little discrete, parked my bike at the beginning of the driveway, but he was driving in one one of those ATV’s when I walked up. Didn’t mean to ruffle any feathers.” He referred to Thomas. 

You laughed at that and waved your hand. “Thomas is at the age where if it doesn’t have a controller he doesn’t think twice about it.” 

Tig laughed at that but you could tell that it was a nervous laugh, that he was holding something back. It was then you realized he wasn’t wearing his kutte and figured that had something to do with his visit. 

“No kutte.” You reached out and patted his chest. 

He looked down with a frown and immediately looked up. “Oh, uh, yea, left it back on my bike,” he was pointing over his shoulder again, “he–Chibs, let me know about the rule, Hap too, just in case, you know.” 

The rule. You remembered the last thing you said to Chibs the last time he was standing in pretty much the same spot as Tig was right now. 

“Don’t come back here unless the ink is blacked out and the kutte is off.” 

It wasn’t exactly the rule you gave, you didn’t say next time you come by don’t wear your kutte and leave your bike at the driveway. You told Chibs, he needed to leave the club if he wanted to see you again. But you had to appreciate that he had told his right and left hand men that they had to be respectful of your home, in case. In case. That got you thinking, what did that mean, in case? 

“What do you mean in case?” You felt your heart starting to beat faster and faster as the thoughts danced in and out of your mind. 

Tig looked visibly upset, visibly stressed, and that made you even more on edge. 

“What happened?” You knew what happened but it didn’t stop you from asking the question.

“It’s bad, doll.” Tig inhaled. “He wiped out. He’s at St. Thomas in surgery right now, second one since he got there.” 

“How’d he wipe out?” Again, you had a ballpark idea of how it happened but you needed to hear it from him. 

“He got shot, Mayan retaliation.” 

A good five seconds passed before you responded but to both you and Tig those five seconds were likely feeling like 5 minutes. 

“I’ll get a bag, follow you there.” Your brain was starting to mush together, thoughts were melting into other ones, worry and panic were sparring back and forth in your gut. 

But before either of them could continue the conversation, someone was interrupting you by calling out your name but with Aunt before it. Turning around quickly you saw your eldest nephew on the porch, no weapon in hand but his demeanor was firm, ready to jump into action at any moment. 

“Thomas told me someone was here.” He said as he stepped quickly towards you too, Tig bringing his hand up to the bridge of his nose as he turned around. 

“You alright?” He was next to you, towering over you, similarly to how your brother– his father, did. 

“I’m fine, sweetheart.” You squeezed his shoulder. “An old friend of mine is sick at the hospital and Alexander was just coming by to let me know.” It was a calculated sentence, Abel didn’t know much about Jax, it was a constant struggle of what information you wanted to share with him and what you should. It was a lot easier when he was younger, the story of how his father passed was watered down similarly to his adoptive mother’s but as he grew older, he had more questions, more curiosity. “Why don’t you come help me pack, Abel. I’m going to go visit him for a couple days and I’ll run you through the things around the farm you can take over for me.” 

“Yea, alright.” He wouldn’t take his eyes off Tig who had only waved by lifting his hand slightly at the mention of his first name earlier. 

“C’mon.” You grabbed the young boy by the shoulders and turned him around. 

As you started to grab things and toss them into a duffel bag, you tried to mask your anxiety and spiral of thoughts. 

“So Nero can take care of the feed deliveries and stuff that happens while you’re at school, I’ll call him on my way out, but I’m gonna need you to finish the inventory on the table, I’d ask Thomas but, well, I don’t trust he’ll pull himself away from that TV before the submissions are due.” You chuckled, awkwardly. “But besides that, just feed the critters, morning and night, I’ll toss in some extra allowance for you since you’re gonna have to get up earlier to make it all happen. Also, I’ll leave money for food, don’t cook, I’ve seen what you and Thomas make and I’d rather you order from some shitty fast food restaurant than risk one of your concoctions sending your organs into a fit.” It was then you were pulling your wallet out and searching for bills. “Also ask Nero for anything, I haven’t talked to him yet, but he should be around.” 

You were rambling and Abel saw through it. 

“That guy knew Dad, didn’t he?” He was staring right at you, his eyes were searching for an answer on your face. 

You moved to close the door, you didn’t want Thomas to hear, but it was also a way to break Abel’s stare on you. 

“Yes.” You were still trying to search for what you were going to say but you knew he needed the truth, or at least a morsel of it. “My brother–Jax–your father, lived a complicated life, one that he never wanted you or Thomas to experience or honestly even know about. I’m not sure he really thought through what that looked like once you got older, but nonetheless, his life was not suited for you kids.” Abel was glued to you, taking in every word hoping the next ones would offer up more than this reiteration of what he’d sort of heard before. You plopped down on the bed in front of him and sighed. Abel wasn’t ready for Jax’s full story, his mind was young and impressionable, the chance he’d leave here and go to Charming for answers and end up back in the generation’s curse was too feasible, but he could hear yours. 

“Your dad had a group of friends, always around, honestly they became like family, my mom–your grandma, lived for it, we always had dinners, always hung out, we were all close.” You explained. “There was one friend in particular, that I got, well, close with.” 

Abel laughed at that and smirked. 

“Watch it.” You smirked back at him. 

“Was Dad mad?” He was intrigued by the story, you didn’t often talk about this stuff. 

“Annoyed at first.” You thought back and smirked before correcting yourself. “Yea, he was mad. But the guy–his friend was older and so was I, so he couldn’t really say much about it, just huff and puff.” 

“Was grandma mad?” 

You laughed at that. “The opposite, grandma loved it, the idea to make the family more of a family, she had been pushing it forever. Honestly, I tried to go against it but this really had nothing to do with her, this was…different.” It started to hurt talking about it but you continued. 

“This guy, he was super close to your dad, one of his closest friends, and he was kind, funny, caring, had this accent that just melted my heart.” The smile on your face was contagious and Abel was catching it as you spoke. “He’d take me on these trips, we’d explore all these national parks,” you thought back to every ride you’d taken on the back of Chibs’ bike where you’d have picnics, get caught in the rain, went quarry swimming, the memory of Chibs swimming still making you chuckle. That slowly turned into you remembering other memories, “we went to Ireleand together too.” As those words left your mouth, you felt your stomach drop as you looked up at Abel who was none the wiser of why you really went. 

“You loved him.” Abel was smiling. 

You wanted to agree, even tell him that you still did but that was a can of worms you didn’t need Abel to open, let alone yourself so all you did was nod. 

“What happened?” 

“Remember how I said your father had a complicated life? Well so did his friend, and his friend didn’t want to leave that complicated life and I did.” It broke your heart saying it, you had thought it all these years but never spoke it outloud let alone to your nephew.  

“You left because of us. Thomas and I.” Abel put the pieces together. 

“I left for you. I’d put you before anything, always.” You were leaning over and grabbing his hands and squeezed them. 

“It was that guy that was here last year. The one with the bike.” 

All you did was nod. “He apparently got hurt and I just–” You looked at Abel and weren’t sure if you wanted to say the words, they felt more like something you needed to say out loud for you than for him. 

“Need to know if he’s okay.” He cut you off. 

Another nod escaped you but you spoke up to say something different, something that broke you. “And say goodbye if he isn’t.” A tear fell from your face and you wiped it away immediately and smiled quickly standing up to finish packing your bag. 

Before you could stuff one more item of clothing into your bag, you felt an arm around your shoulder and bring you in for a half hug. “I’ll bribe Thomas with my new controller, we’ll both pick up the farm work while you’re gone.” 

“Thanks for understanding, kiddo.” 

______

The ride was long, longer than you remembered but it made sense that you moved this far away. As you entered the town line, everything came back to you, like a wave that washed over you. One full of memory, grief, and that one feeling that ultimately always wrecked everything. Hope. 

The sounds of more motorcycles joined the one that was already behind you, you recognized some of them but not all of them. They followed you to the hospital and as you stepped out of the car, Tig was walking back up to you, a group of more MC members standing a few feet behind. Despite this being the life you grew up in, it felt strange, it felt wrong, but you pushed that all aside, or at least tried.

“Party of 15 joining us inside?” You asked looking back at the group. 

“It’s a messy time, doll. Our president was gunned down, need all the protection we can spare.” 

“Yea, when isn’t it.” You turned and began your walk into the hospital where you eventually saw Happy. He looked visibly upset, the Sgt at Arms patch on his kutte felt heavier today than other days and you knew that. “Hap.” You whispered and slouched down to see his face before he was standing up quickly and very awkwardly. 

He didn’t move to come hug you at first, but when you dropped your shoulders and tilted your head with an accompanied “c’mere” he was moving to embrace you, an act Happy reserved for rare times in his life, but this qualified as that. 

“He’s out of surgery, they said he’s in serious but stable condition.” He was now looking back between you and Tig as he spoke. 

“Is he conscious? Can I see him?” 

“Only letting one at a time back there, Quinn’s back there now.” Rat spoke up, bringing himself into the conversation as he stood from the seat next to where Happy was. 

“We’ll tell him to jump out.” Tig’s hand was on your back and giving daggers to Rat. “Go, take all the time you need.” 

You stood at the door for a minute, staring at him, all broken and helpless. You felt your fight of flight kick in as you took a step back, followed by a step forward before inevitably the freeze tactic kicked in. Suddenly you were stepping in and at his side. 

His eyes moved to take in the figure next to him and they went wide before they closed. “Quinn, could you tell those lovely nurses to either cut this morphine or give me enough to knock me the fuck out, I’m bloody hallucinatin’.” 

“Not hallucinating.” Your hand moved to lightly push his hair out of his face. “I’m really here.” 

He stared at you for a good minute before smiling. “I must be really bad if they got you to come back here.” 

“You’re fine,” you continued to stroke his hair, “Tig has a way to make everything seem more dramatic than it really is.” It was a lie but you needed him to believe he was going to get better if there was any hope for it to be true. 

“If I knew escaping death was all I needed to do to get you back here, I’d have done this ages ago.” He laughed as he tried to sit up. 

“Hey, hey, hey, hey–relax.” You gripped his arms and assisted him as he scrunched up his face and groaned. 

“You know what happened?” He asked, moving over for you to sit but you didn’t. 

“I do. Tig told me. Retaliation.” You nodded, not letting go of his head despite not wanting to cuddle in next to him. 

“He tell you I’m done?” 

Those words came from him but felt like they were caught in your throat as you tried to answer. 

“You–You’re just saying that, scares like this, they stir up two things in you guys, either the motivation for severe retaliation–the kind that that starts a war, or it shakes up the desire to want to leave, go nomad, take the back seat.” You remembered the typical club ways. 

“I’m not just a member, love. I’m the president, going nomad, taking the backseat, ain’t really a choice for guys like me.” 

“Neither is leaving if I remember correctly.” You took a deep breath. 

Chibs closed his eyes and took a breath similar to yours. “I’m old. Too old for this. I’m not made to hand off the gavel and take the other head of the table. I’m done. After this hit, I’ll be lucky if I can ride again, they’ll offer me a spot out of courtesy but that’s not me.” 

“And what will you do with all this free time you’ll inevitably have?” 

“I have a friend, real looker this friend of mine, pretty as ever, owns a farm a few hours out from here, I’d probably see if she could use the extra farm hands, might take some convincing, but I’m hoping she’ll come ‘round.” 

There it was. That hope that Charming was always serving up. You had been here less than an hour and it was already happening, it wasted no time. 

“Focus on getting better, you can think about your next act when the bruises fade and the bullet hole is just a scar.” You plopped down next to him, your way of softening the blow of not giving him an answer of coming to the farm. You wrapped your arm around his and leaned your head on his shoulder, lightly as to not cause him more pain, but you had a funny feeling that he wouldn’t have told you if he was in pain from it, it was something both of you wanted, to absorb every second of this moment because the next ones were still so unsure. 

______

You sat on the back porch swing, coffee cup in your hand, birds chirping as the sun began to rise across the fields. You stared at the dirt path driveway, like you were waiting for someone to arrive but immediately your thoughts were interrupted by the complaints and arguments of two young boys. 

As your head twisted to look at them, you saw them bickering and slightly pushing each other before they stopped as they got in front of you. 

“See you tonight.” Thomas bent down and placed a kiss on your cheek before he got a head start down the porch. Abel was looking down at you and tilted his head. 

“You alright?” The concern was littered all over his face. 

“I’m fine. You have your keys?” You knew he did, Thomas was normally the forgetful one being the younger more daydreaming brother. 

“Yes, I’ll be home at 4 today, I’m picking up a part for my dirt bike downtown.” He dangled his keys. 

“Sounds good, drive safe.” 

He was leaning down to place a kiss on your cheek similarly to Thomas before he began walking away. But after taking one step, he paused and looked down at you before he followed his brother. “You happy?” 

Big question for two little words. 

“I am, kid.” You smiled and Abel accepted that and nodded before jogging after Thomas. 

You watched them pile into the used car that used to be yours that you gave Abel when he got his license. As the dirt kicked up on the driveway, you still stared down the lengthy path long after they left, only to be interrupted as the accented voice brought you back to the porch. 

“Lost in thought, love?” Chibs was shirtless, wiping the sweat from his forehead as he stood at the deck stairs. 

You couldn’t help the smile that grew on your face as you stared at him. He must’ve gotten up early to take care of the animals, he had dirt on him too which meant he probably did some work in the crop fields or the greenhouse. 

“Just waiting for the day someone comes down that driveway and steals you away from me.” 

“Not happening.” He was walking up to you and leaned down to press a deep kiss to your lips, one that you always melted into fear it’d be your last. “I told you 3 months ago, I tied up all the loose ends, no one knows I’m here. But if you’re not comfortable, you say the word and I’m out of here.” The words were spoken so close to your lips. 

You brought him down for another kiss. “I’m worried about losing you, not pushing you away. Just, hard to believe that dream you were sellin’ over a year ago was in stock is all.” You pecked his lips again. “Plus I like not having 5AM livestock duty anymore.” A laugh escaped you as one left his mouth as well. 

He was standing up now and shaking his head before he realized the porch light was disconnected. His hand reached up to grab the bulb and screw it in tighter. Your eyes stared at the black ink that was spread across his back. It was healing nicely. Maybe that was a sign that you could block out the past and move forward from it, or maybe it was all wishful thinking.

[juancarlos-ortiz]

Denial - Juice Ortiz x Reader One Shot

A/N: A quick little one shot for Juicy pants - something sweeter this time! I am still working on Marked for Carnage but my life is a little hectic right now. Fingers crossed, next week the next chapter will be up. Please feel free to request a one shot if you wish! I will write for almost anyone from SOA.

Warnings: alcohol, swearing, mentions of sex (off page), kissing, smoking

Word Count: 1466 words

You bopped your head along to the music as you pulled the bottle opener from your back pocket, popping the tops off the beers in front of you. "Here you go, guys," you said, placing them on the bar in front of Tig and Chibs. "Thank you, sweetheart," Tig tipped his bottle your way whilst Chibs gave you a nod. You moved down the bar, serving members and the sweetbutts that hung off them. You had been working the bar for SAMCRO parties for many months now after your friend had begged you to tag along one night after they were down a person. You reluctantly agreed, having heard stories from other girls you knew were croweaters about how rowdy the parties could be and handsy the guys were. But surprisingly it had been a fun night and any guys that did try to hit on you, actually seemed to take no for an answer.

No, there was only one guy in this building you would want putting his hands on you. And he currently made his way to the bar, his eyes meeting yours and a smirk on his face. "What can I get ya, Juice?" you asked, already knowing his answer as you reached down into the fridge below the bar to grab a beer. "Beer please, beautiful," he winked, causing your skin to prickle with heat. Ignoring him, you popped the top and handed it over. He took a long sip and you watched the column of his throat dip as he swallowed, your blood rushing to your core and heart beginning to thump harder. He put his beer on the bar and smiled, aware of just how much he affected you. Crossing his forearms against the wood he lent in. "Busy tonight, sweetness?" he asked. You rolled your eyes, flicking the dishcloth over your shoulder out to lightly snap his arm. "Always busy, sweetness," you mocked before moving on to fulfill another order.

Juice stayed at the bar, watching as you moved around, taking orders, making people laugh, smoothly moving in between the other girls and the Prospects who were also working. He was playing it cool, but in reality his palms were drenched with sweat and his stomach was alive with butterflies. He could stand and watch you all night long, no croweater or pool game even a lick of competition to you. He felt someone elbow his side. Turning to face Chibs, he nodded in greeting. "A little distracted tonigh', aren't ye Juicy?" his brother asked. Juice just shrugged and had another long sip of his beer. "Been a long week, kinda tired," he lilted, trying unsuccessfully to pull his eyes from you. You passed a straw over to Piney with a laugh and shake of your head before you were heading back over to him, the sway in your hips and crook of your mouth making his pants suddenly tighter.

"You want another one?" you asked, tossing the dishcloth over your shoulder again. "I'll take whatever you want to give me," he prompted, causing your mouth to open. Juice was never usually this flirty at parties. You heard a scoff from a few seats down. "Would you two just hurry up and fuck already?!" Tig challenged, putting a cigarette into his mouth and lighting it. Chibs began to laugh into his drink. You huffed and crossed your arms. "What the hell are you talking about, Tiggy?" you sassed, lifting up their drinks and giving the table a wipe down. "You two," Tig motioned his beer to point between you and Juice. "The undressing with the eyes, the flirting…. It's painful," he blinked slowly. "Just do us all a favour and fuck each other." You let out a short laugh, your nerves setting in. What Tig didn’t know was that you and Juice had already had a roll in the sheets. Many… many… many… rolls in the sheets.

But it wasn't something you had made public purely because it was casual and you didn’t want to be seen as someone that any of the guys could have. Juice had agreed because he was fine with upkeeping his bachelor status with his brothers. You weren't exclusive but you certainly had not been with anyone else. You were unsure about Juice, and honestly you didn’t want to ask, but you were both being careful and it was just a bit of fun. But the last few times it had happened it had felt a little more than casual to you. It always happened at your place, usually after a SAMCRO party. The first few times Juice would usually leave pretty quickly after - which had been fine with you - but now he had made the choice to stay the night and usually for breakfast. Which meant you got to talk more, which in turn meant you got to know him better. And that had sparked some unexpected and intense feelings pretty quickly. You had been ignoring them because it seemed like Juice was on the casual train still and you didn’t want to fuck up what you guys had going.

"There is no undressing with the eyes, and Juice flirts with everyone," you shrugged, holding your hands out to lean against the bar. "Yeah right, and I'm the King of England," Tig rolled his eyes. "Can you believe the denial we're hearing right now?" he asked Chibs. "Ye better make a move soon though, swee'heart," Chibs chimed in. "If you don’t make a claim, someone else will." He and Tig got off their stools and moved over to the chairs where Bobby was lounging with a sweetbutt in his lap. You laughed humourlessly, before turning to move away. A hand shot out and grabbed your wrist. You looked up at Juice. "He was just kidding," he said, a forced smile on his face. You nodded and tried to smile back, shrugging your shoulders. "It's fine, Juice," you tried to step away but he held his grip. "You know there's no one else, right?" he asked, his wide brown eyes searching yours. "So what if there was?" you asked. Juice shook his head, gently pulling your arm so you would step back closer to him.

"I'm telling you, right now, there is no one else," he was dead serious, dragging his hand down your arm to lightly grasp your hand, giving you enough freedom to pull out of his grip if you wanted. "What are you doing, Juice?" you asked, looking over your shoulder to make sure the other girls were getting the drinks served. "You have to have noticed that things have been different," he pondered. "Like, a good kind of different." You swallowed thickly, nodding slowly. "I have but…" you lick your lips, Juice's eyes dropping to track the movement. "I didn’t think you did. Or that it's what you would want to be happening." Juice smiled. "You," he ran his thumb over the tops of your knuckles. "Are the only one I want to be going with. Going home to," he confessed. You blinked rapidly. "Is that ok with you?" he asked. You smiled nervously, narrowing your eyes. "It's definitely ok with me, but are you sure?" you asked apprehensively. He tugged on your hand lightly. "Come here, baby. Stake your claim," he stepped back and gestured towards himself. You chuckled, shaking your head, still unsure if this was real or some kind of cruel joke.

Stepping around the bar, you walked to him nervously. When you were close enough, Juice reached out to grasp your waist, pulling you into him quickly. You laughed, colliding with his chest. Grasping the lapels of his cut you tried to ignore the feeling of surprised eyes on you. "You're sure about this?" you ask again, making Juice sigh. "Positive," he said, squeezing your sides teasingly. "No more sweetbutts," you remind him. "And I know that you have that run clause thing but that shit doesn’t sit right with me either," you admit to him. "Baby," he tilts his head, eyes never leaving yours. "I haven’t been with any sweetbutts for months. Ask the other guys. The first time you dragged me through your front door and threw me down on your bed was it for me. There's been no one else. And won’t be. I don’t give a shit about the run clause." You smiled softly, heart warm with his confession. "Well in that case," you pulled him by his cut to meet you in a searing kiss, smiling at Juice's surprised sigh while his hands moved down to slip into your back pockets. "Atta boy, Juicy!" you heard Tig shout. Bobby cursed as he fished into his pocket, pulling out two $10 notes and handing one each to Tig and Chibs.

[drabbles-mc]

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!)

“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.”

[ravennaortiz]

This is so sweet! 💜

Can I have a fluffy request for Happy Lowman with cute, blanket and love.

​🇲​​🇦​​🇮​​🇳​ ​🇲​​🇦​​🇸​​🇹​​🇪​​🇷​​🇱​​🇮​​🇸​​🇹​ 💜 ​🇧​​🇮​​🇷​​🇹​​🇭​​🇩​​🇦​​🇾​ ​🇵​​🇷​​🇴​​🇲​​🇵​​🇹​ ​🇷​​🇪​​🇶​​🇺​​🇪​​🇸​​🇹​​🇸​

Laughter echoed softly through the living room as you and Happy settled into your favorite spot on the couch. It was cold out, and fall was officially here.

The fire crackled gently, casting a warm glow over the room. You snuggled deeper into the thick, knitted blanket that covered both of you, which you had to force over his lap.

"Do you think they're cute?" you asked, glancing at the TV playing a corny romantic comedy. You bit your lip, suppressing a giggle at the characters' antics and the plot's ridiculousness.

Happy chuckled, his signature smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "Sure, but not as cute as you," he teased, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine.

You felt your cheeks heat up at his words; he always had his own way of making you feel special, even when he was teasing you. You scoffed lightly, tossing a handful of popcorn at him, laughing as he expertly dodged it.

"Stop it, or I might just fall in love with you all over again," you teased, your heart racing at the thought, but it was always easy falling for him over and over.

He turned serious for a moment, his blue eyes locking onto yours. "You know I'm already in this for real, right?" He leaned in closer, the warmth of his body mingling with the soft blanket enveloping you both. "You're mine… and I'm yours."

You felt your heart swell with love at his words, knowing Happy wasn't exactly the poster child of commitment before you. "I know," you whispered, smiling back at him.

Happy reached out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers brushing against the softness of your cheek as he captured your chin, leaning in for a kiss.

As the movie played on, you both settled into a comfortable silence, the blanket cocooning you in a sense of safety and warmth. A softness that no one would believe could come from the Tacoma Killer.

"Want to get a Chinese food and watch another shitty movie?" Happy asked, breaking the stillness as he glanced down at you.

"See, always saying the right things to make me fall for you again," I joke as I smile against his lips. "We can, but only if we can share it under this cute blanket,"

"Deal," he said with a grin, and you felt him pull you even closer.

The fire flickered, and the movie continued. You revelled in the simple joy of being in love with him, wrapped in your own little bubble, a world away from everything else.

Nothing mattered in these moments; anything outside of this didn't exist. Not the club and their problems, not the guys or Gemma. Just you and Happy cuddled up watching crappy rom-coms.

[bilightningwhumper]

Making some progress on the October writing events I plan on being a completion-est for: AI-less Whumptober (all main prompts), Angstober, and Flufftober (all prompts, including the alts). But I'm curious about something and I'll put context under the poll

Basically, the last time I did a writing event (Mangst 2024), I just wrote whatever came to me, not really caring about length. No matter what I do, there will be spoilers for all the works listed in my pinned post. Basically TNEI was my main focus before, so now the three events prompts this round will cover the TNEI fics that got neglected, all the SoaS fics, and Temptations of Fate (the Romeo+Juliet Angels/Demons sapphic fic).

I'm still kind of going to do what I want, but it'd be nice to know what people would most likely read of my stuff that would also get them to read more. Personally, I like longer pieces, so that's what I tend to write. Some like the shorter ones more, so this is more to figure out the ratio than anything else.

Examples of mostly the first case (though a few of the second) from my own works on Tumblr (also on Ao3): Mangst 2024 TNEI Masterlist and Seven Minutes in... Heaven? (a SoaS oneshot)

*Ao3 fics under privacy to people with accounts only due to AI-scrapers*