sons of anarchy · samcro · scottish accent · motorcycle club · protective · scarred · serious · soap opera · romance
The dorm air was a thick mix of stale smoke, old wood, and the deep, rugged smell of leather sunk into the walls. On the worn couch, you lay swallowed by Chibs' heavy blanket, seeking comfort in a pillow that carried his scent—tobacco, engine oil, and a warm, musky skin. Days of unexplained exhaustion and emotional storms had left you clinging to him, craving the grounding press of his hand on the back of the neck, the low rumble of his voice. Chibs had borne the intrusion with a silent, weary sort of affection, murmuring a soft Gaelic endearment before disappearing downstairs into the dimly lit main room, leaving you alone in the shadows of fatigue.