#darkskin reader

𝓭𝓪𝓻𝔂𝓵 𝓭𝓲𝔁𝓸𝓷

• doesn’t say much, but always makes sure you’re safe—walking slightly ahead, checking surroundings, handing you things without a word

• quietly learns your routines—what you eat, how you rest, what you need—and just… makes sure it’s there before you ask

• gets a little too still when you get close, like he’s not used to it—but his hands eventually settle on you, rough but careful

• when he’s missed you, he pulls you in close without warning, holding on longer than he means to

𝓻𝓲𝓬𝓴 𝓰𝓻𝓲𝓶𝓮𝓼

• always checking on you—“you good?” in that low, serious voice, even when you clearly are

• trusts you in ways he doesn’t trust others—lets you see him when he’s tired, worn down, not just the leader

• gets very close when he talks to you, voice dropping, eyes locked like you’re the only person in the room

• his grip on you gets firmer when he’s stressed—pulling you in, grounding himself through you without even realizing

𝓼𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓮 𝔀𝓪𝓵𝓼𝓱

• loud about caring—always making it known you’re with him, protective in a way that’s hard to ignore

• challenges you, pushes you, but respects you when you stand your ground against him

• gets in your space on purpose—testing, teasing, seeing how you react when he’s close

• not subtle at all when he wants you—looks, comments, that confident smirk like he already knows

𝓰𝓵𝓮𝓷𝓷 𝓻𝓱𝓮𝓮

• always checking if you’re okay emotionally—not just physically, actually caring how you feel

• brings you little things he finds—snacks, random items—like he’s thinking about you even when you’re apart

• gets shy when you get close, but doesn’t pull away—just smiles, a little flustered

• when he’s more comfortable, he holds onto you a little tighter, like he doesn’t want to let go

𝓶𝓪𝓰𝓰𝓲𝓮 𝓰𝓻𝓮𝓮𝓷𝓮

• steady, grounding presence—keeps you calm when things get chaotic, always thinking ahead for both of you

• openly affectionate in a soft way—hands brushing yours, leaning into you without hesitation

• gets a little more assertive when she wants your attention—pulling you closer, holding your gaze

• her touches linger—intentional, warm, like she’s making sure you feel her there

𝓶𝓲𝓬𝓱𝓸𝓷𝓷𝓮

• protective without being overbearing—trusts you, but always watching your back

• doesn’t open up easily, but with you? she lets her guard down in quiet moments

• gets close in a calm, controlled way—hands steady, presence strong, never rushed

• when she wants you, it’s clear—no games, just that intense eye contact and quiet confidence

𝓬𝓪𝓻𝓸𝓵 𝓹𝓮𝓵𝓮𝓽𝓲𝓮𝓻

• soft with you in ways she isn’t with others—gentle touches, small smiles, quiet care

• notices everything about you—your moods, your habits, what you don’t say out loud

• her affection can turn surprisingly bold—pulling you in when she decides she wants you close

• there’s an intensity beneath her softness—like she knows exactly what she’s doing when she leans in

𝓻𝓸𝓼𝓲𝓽𝓪 𝓮𝓼𝓹𝓲𝓷𝓸𝓼𝓪

• confident and straightforward—if she likes you, you know

• teaches you how to handle yourself—weapons, survival, making sure you’re strong on your own

• flirty without trying—little comments, looks, that smirk when she catches your reaction

• very comfortable taking control of a moment—pulling you closer, not asking, just knowing

You pulled back just enough to look at him, giving him a look.

“Don’t start.”

That only made him grin.

Wide. Cocky. Dangerous.

“Oh, I’m starting.”

Behind you, a low whistle cut through the moment.

“Yeah,” Jax called, leaning against the truck like he had all the time in the world. “We’re just gonna… give you two a minute or—?”

You didn’t even look back.

Opie did.

Still holding you like he had no intention of putting you down anytime soon.

“Nah,” he said easily. “We’re good.”

Tig snorted. “Don’t look like it.”

A couple of the guys laughed, already catching the energy.

Opie just adjusted his hold on you slightly—like it was nothing, like your weight didn’t even phase him—and leaned in closer, voice dropping just for you.

“Tell me we’re going home,” he muttered.

You didn’t hesitate.

“We’re going home.”

“Now?”

“Now.”

That grin came back—slow, knowing.

“Yeah,” Jax cut in, pushing off the truck. “Go ahead. Before you break something out here.”

“Or someone,” Tig added under his breath.

You finally turned your head just enough to shoot them a look—but there was no heat behind it. Not really.

Because they were right.

And they knew it.

Opie didn’t even bother pretending otherwise.

“Been locked up too long,” he said plainly, meeting Jax’s gaze without a hint of shame. “I’m not waiting.”

The garage erupted in a mix of laughs and groans.

“Man—” Jax shook his head, smirking. “At least take it outta here first.”

Opie just shrugged, already turning with you still in his arms like you belonged there.

Like you always had.

“C’mon,” he said low against your ear.

Your fingers tightened in his shirt.

“Been waiting for you,” you whispered.

His grip flexed—just a little.

“I know.”

𝓈𝒻𝓌

• him being genuinely fascinated with your hair—not in a weird way, but curious and respectful, asking what you’re doing, handing you clips or products, and lowkey getting distracted just watching you take care of yourself like it’s something special

• always having some form of contact with you, even in the smallest ways—his hand resting on your thigh while he drives, fingers brushing yours when you walk side by side, or pulling you a little closer when other people are around without even thinking about it

• teaching you things in that Dean way—hands over yours while fixing the Impala, voice low and patient as he walks you through it, acting all serious but sneaking glances at you when you’re focused

• acting like nothing gets to him in front of everyone else, but the second it’s just you? he softens—his voice drops, his shoulders relax, and he lets himself lean into you like you’re the one place he doesn’t have to be on guard

• late-night drives where it’s just the two of you, music low, his arm stretched behind your seat, occasionally glancing over at you with that small, almost shy smile he doesn’t let anyone else see

𝓈𝓊𝑔𝑔𝑒𝓈𝓉𝒾𝓋𝑒

• the way he goes quiet when you sit in his lap—hands settling on your hips a little tighter than before, jaw clenching slightly like he’s trying to keep himself in check but clearly struggling

• his voice dropping real low when he’s close to you, saying things just under his breath near your ear, fully aware of the effect it has on you and absolutely not innocent about it

• noticing the size difference between you—and using it—pulling you closer, lifting you like it’s nothing, hands lingering just a second longer like he enjoys how easily you fit against him

• teasing you on purpose just to get a reaction—little comments, small touches, that smug look when you react exactly how he expected, like he’s proud of himself for getting under your skin