I'm Watching Silent Hill And I See Kim Coates And I Can't Take Him Seriously Strictly Because I've Watched

Gemma sighs as she talks over the phone. "…no, she doesn't have any open appointments for the next few months. I have Tig, Juice, or Opie free?… okay well, I'll book you in with her if anything opens up. Bye." She sighs putting the phone down walking outside.

The guys were all standing watching you bent over the hood of a car, looking into the window, with your overalls on, arms tied around your waist, and a cropped vest. "Does anyone work around here?"

They all scurried away in case you turned and notice them staring.

The matriarch of the club sighs before giving you a once over and staring at your ass until she notices Clay staring at her with a smirk. "Stop staring at the kid's ass while she's working," he says teasingly.

Gemma just smirked, whispering in her husband's ear as he rubbed a hand over his chest, "I will when you do, baby."

1st time writing

Tw: vehicle accident, not gory

Screams and Scotch - Part 1

Chibs had seen some stupid shite in his time, but this? This was bloody ridiculous.

He was pulling out of TM’s lot when the sound of a screaming engine made him pause. His sharp eyes tracked the sleek, black Ducati as it weaved dangerously through traffic. The guy riding it was a reckless bastard, leaning too hard into turns, gunning it between cars with barely an inch to spare. But it wasn’t the rider that caught his attention.

It was the girl on the back.

She was tiny—five foot nothing, at best—and clinging to the rider like her life depended on it. Her hands were locked around his waist, her knuckles white even from this distance. Her hair whipped wildly in the wind, and even over the roar of the engine, he could hear her screaming. Not the kind of scream that came with excitement or thrill-seeking. No, this was terror.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, already swinging his Harley around. He wasn’t about to play hero—stupid people did stupid things, and they suffered for it—but something about the way she clung to the guy set his teeth on edge. She looked like she wasn’t there by choice. And that? That was a problem.

He kicked his bike into gear, following at a distance, keeping an eye on them as they shot down Main Street.

It happened fast.

Too fast.

One second, the Ducati was tearing down the road, the rider too cocky, too sure of himself as he cut through traffic. The next, he made a critical mistake. He didn’t see the truck ahead of him slamming on the brakes.

Chibs barely had time to swear before it happened.

The bike clipped the back of the truck at high speed. The front wheel crumpled, the force sending the rider flying over the handlebars. He slammed into the pavement and rolled, limbs flailing. But Chibs’ focus was on her.

The girl.

She was thrown off the back like a ragdoll, hitting the asphalt hard. She skidded, her body bouncing once—twice—before going still.

Chibs was already moving, his Harley forgotten in the middle of the road as he ran toward the wreck. The rider was groaning, trying to push himself up, but Chibs ignored him. He crouched next to the girl, his gut twisting at the sight of her.

Blood smeared the pavement beneath her. Her jeans were torn at the knees, scraped raw, and her arms had deep road rash. But it was her head that worried him. Her face was slack, peaceful in a way that didn’t belong here. A deep cut on her forehead leaked crimson into her hair.

“Shite, lass,” he muttered, pressing two fingers to her neck. Her pulse was there—faint, but there.

“Hey,” he tapped her cheek lightly, his accent thickening. “C’mon now, open those pretty eyes for me, yeah?”

Nothing. "Ah, fuckin’ hell.”

He checked her breathing—shallow, but steady—before looking up. People were gathering. Someone had already called 911. Sirens were wailing in the distance.

The rider groaned louder, drawing attention, but Chibs shot him a look that shut him up. “You keep your arse right there,” he warned, voice low and sharp. “Yer lucky I don’t put ye under for good.”

The bastard had been laughing on that bike. Chibs had seen it. The reckless grin, the thrill of showing off. And now she was lying here, broken because of him.

When the ambulance arrived, Chibs was still kneeling beside her, his gloved hand pressing gently against her shoulder. When the paramedics rushed over, he didn’t move.

“She’s breathin’. Took a bad hit to the head.”

One of them nodded, assessing her injuries, but when they asked for her information, Chibs stiffened.

“I dunno,” he admitted, glancing down at her. “I don’t know her name.”

The ride to St. Thomas was a blur. Chibs hadn’t planned on going, but when the paramedics loaded her onto the stretcher, they just assumed.

“You’re coming with her, right?”

He could’ve said no. Could’ve walked away, probably should have.

Instead, he muttered, “Aye,” and climbed into the ambulance.

He sat in the corner, arms crossed, watching as they worked. Her tiny frame looked even smaller against the white sheets, and for some reason, that pissed him off. She looked fragile, in a way that had looked like she had no business being tangled up in this shite.

When they rolled her into the ER, he followed. Nurses swarmed. Someone tried to stop him, but he just gave them a look, and they backed off.

Finally, a nurse approached him. “Are you family?”

Chibs hesitated. He didn’t even know her bloody name.

“Filip Telford,” he said instead. “Call me Chibs.”

The nurse nodded. “She had a wallet on her. Her name is—”

She said it. Her name.

And for some reason, it hit him harder than expected. He rolled it around in his head, memorizing it, feeling it settle in his chest.

When they finally let him into the room, she was still unconscious. Her face was pale, but the bandages were clean, the IV steady. Chibs pulled up a chair, watching her breathe.

He didn’t know why he stayed.

Didn’t know why he felt this urge to make sure she woke up.

But he did.

And something told him this wasn’t the last time he’d see her.

Not by a long shot.

Tommy Flanagan as Walter Flynn in Power Book IV: Force (1x3)

Colored this today

Gawd damn

Tommy Flanagan

bad girl // chibs telford x oc

Chibs Telford x F!OC (Ellie Drysdale/Telford)

Warnings: 18+, smut, language

Word Count: 1,757

 The sounds of keys clanking into the lock wakes me up and I sit up slowly to avoid puking. The couple of bottles of liquor that I drank last night do not agree with me, and I would probably feel at least a little bit bad if Unser had to clean up my puke. I slap Gemma's leg a couple of times and she startles awake. Once we're both standing up, we finally realize who has bailed us out this time.

"Ha! I told you mine would come first this time," I tease her and she rolls her eyes.

"I'll pay you once Wayne gives me my purse back. You cheated somehow and I'm gonna figure out how you did it so that I win next time," She retorts as we walk out of our shared cell towards my very ticked-off boyfriend. 

"Hi, baby," I say and grip the leather of his kutte to attempt to peck his lips but he turns his face at the last second so that my lips land on his cheek. 

"Don't 'hi, baby' me, darling. You're in trouble this time," Chibs replies, still attempting to look annoyed with me.

"Oh, is the big bad biker gonna spank me? Maybe you should be the one in the cell, sir," I mock him which just seems to piss him off more.

"No, you'll enjoy it too much. But I do plan on not fucking you for a couple of days until you learn your lesson." 

   My face drops and that seems to bring a smile to his lips. He kisses the top of my head before leading me out to his bike where Clay is arguing with Gemma once again. Chibs pulls my helmet over my tangled curls and ensures that it's on properly before finally pulling me against him and molding our lips together, his tongue pillaging my mouth until we're both breathless. 

"I'm taking you to my house and then we're going to talk about this, Ellie. I can't keep getting calls from Unser telling me that you've been arrested again," He says firmly when we finally separate, his hands holding my face and his thumb stroking my cheek. 

"I'm sorry," I whisper and I know that it won't be enough, but it'll be a start. 

   He climbs on the bike first and I follow, pressing my cheek against his patch and winding my arms around his waist. I let the breeze distract me as he drives us to his house, most likely because he knows that if we go back to Gemma's where I'm still living, we'll have to overhear her and Clay either fighting or fucking. Once we're inside, I push off my ridiculous heels and head towards Chibs' room to change into some of his clothes. As I'm buttoning one of his button-downs, he enters the room and sits on the edge of the bed, running his hands through his hair. I step between his legs and play with his hair while he rests his head against my stomach, his hands rubbing up and down the back of my thighs.

"You ready to tell me what happened?" I sigh deeply and launch into the story.

"Gem and I went out for a couple of drinks and got a little rowdy. The bartender didn't like that we were being loud, so he tried to kick us out. Gemma threw her drink in his face and when he grabbed her arm roughly, I punched him in the face. He called Unser and he picked us up and took us back to the jail. I guess he didn't call you and Clay until this morning."

"Oh, no. He called us last night before he even went and picked you two up," He replies and I push his head back to look at me. "Ellie, that's the third time this month that I've had to see you asleep in a jail cell. If it happens again, I'm not bailing you out. You'll sit in there until Unser releases you or someone else comes to pay your bail, but I'm not going to do it again." 

"It won't happen again, but it's also not that big of a deal, Chibs," I mutter and that gets his attention.

"Not that big of a deal? Ellie, if you two fuck with the wrong guy just one time, I'll be picking you up from the morgue. You're not careful. You put yourself at risk and it scares the fuck out of me. Either you get it together, or we're done." I shove him away at that and he stands up and fixes me with a glare.

"I'm not careful? I put myself at risk? Jesus fuck, Chibs, your entire job is you not being careful and putting yourself at risk." He shakes his head at that and I step closer to him, pushing my finger into his chest. "Every morning, I wake up and pray that I'm not gonna get a call from one of your brothers telling me you're dead. So until you stop constantly being in danger, I'll continue to do the same." 

"What I do is to protect you! It's to protect anyone connected to the club. Fuck, if I didn't love you, Eleanor, I wouldn't do what I have to do. I would be going about my life, fucking random chicks, and drinking myself away. But, I do love you so I put myself in danger because it means that I get to see you breathing just one more day."

   He's so angry that he's almost panting when he finishes his rant, but I'm just in shock. We've never said that we love each other before, and of course, it would come out in the middle of an argument, like a bad cliche. 

"You love me?" 

"Shut up," He says before grabbing my face and kissing me. 

   I wrap myself around him and he's quick to pick me up and lead us to his bed. He throws me down and leans back to rip open my shirt, buttons flying everywhere, and I pull him back down to me. I nip at his lip before sliding my tongue into his mouth. Of course, he has to be the dominant one, so he takes over, pulling gasps and moans from my lips as he massages my bare tits and grinds himself against me. He moves down my neck, leaving his mark on me like a caveman. 

"I love you," I gasp out as he wraps his lips around my nipple, and his hand slides into the front of my panties. He teases my entrance before dragging the moisture there up to my clit while his lips continue their assault all over my tits and neck. 

"You're my pretty little slut, aren't you? Mine to fuck and to love and to yell at until I'm blue in the face to keep you safe. My little lamb, always so ready for me," He says into my ear as he pushes his fingers inside of me and continues to apply pressure to my clit with his thumb. 

"Always, baby. You fuck me so good that I don't know how I ever lived without your cock inside of me. Please, fuck me. Fuck me like you hate me and kiss me like you love me." 

   My words send him into a frenzy and he literally rips my panties off of me before throwing the torn fabric over his shoulder. He unbuckles his belt and pulls his dick out, just barely applying pressure at my entrance before thrusting all the way in. He's so deep in me that I see the bulge in my belly before he pushes down on it, sending pleasure through my body. I let out a loud moan as he pushes one of my knees up by my chest and snaps his hips into me so roughly that I know that there'll be bruises on my hips and thighs tomorrow. 

"You love when I'm rough with you, don't you, darlin'? It reminds you that you're just a hole for me to stick my dick in until I spray you with my come. You love to be degraded so much that you're dripping all over my cock, lamb."  He reaches between us to make tight circles on my clit with his thumb, pulling me closer to the edge with every rotation. 

"I'm just a dirty little slut who loves to be fucked," I moan out as his thrusts get even rougher. "Fuck, baby, I'm gonna come."

"Come all over my cock, baby, and then I'm fucking you from behind so that I can see that ass bounce while I remind you who you belong to." 

   I scream out his name as my pussy squeezes him before I come, my walls spasming around him. He barely gives me a second to recover before he's pulling out of me and flipping me over. I've just put my ass in the air when he slams into me and chases his own release. At this moment, I really am just a hole for him to fuck and I love it. His dick hits my g-spot with every thrust and he slaps my ass so hard that there'll be red handprints on there for at least a couple of hours. I chant his name over and over again as I come again and he presses his front to my back as he finally comes inside of me. 

   The only sounds in the room are our pants as come down. Chibs pushes my hair out of the way before pressing kisses down my spine and on the handprints that cover my bottom. I collapse onto the mattress and he gets a warm washcloth from the bathroom before kneeling by the side of the bed and wiping my pussy. He flips me over and peppers kisses all over my face, my favorite form of aftercare. 

"I wasn't too rough with you, was I, lamb?" I shake my head and he gently kisses my lips one time before pulling both of us underneath the covers.

"I love you, Chibby," I whisper to him as he presses his front to my back with his hand rubbing circles on my stomach. 

"I love you, my little Ellie." 

"By the way, if that's the way that you fuck me when I get into trouble, expect to be getting a lot of phone calls." I feel him shake his head before dragging me closer to him. We fall asleep like that and soak up our love for one another. 

Tommy Flanagan as Interpol Agent Jack Stoker on “Motive”