Imagine you are Chibs’ Old Lady and the guys tease him about the age gap between the two of you but he shows you he is not an ‘old man’. *Smut*
Warnings: smut, language.
“Shut up,” Chibs grumbles, folding his arms across his chest defensively.
The guys laughed.
“I mean,” Tig said, “I get that she likes older guys, but you’re old enough to be her grandfather!”
You knew it was an exaggeration, but you knew it pissed Chibs off nonetheless. The guys loved to make fun of the age gap between you and your Old Man and while you knew it was just fun, Chibs took it personally. You suspected it had something to do with him having already been married once but you never asked in case it caused problems.
“Yeah, how’d you land someone as young as her anyway?” Jam chimed in, “She’s, like, my age.”
You heard Chibs huff and decided now was as good a time as any to butt in.
“Chibs, we really get going, don’t you think? I still have to make us dinner and it’s getting late.” You said, placing a hand on his arm to get his attention and show your support.
He gave you a look, one eyebrow raised, that told you he knew exactly what you were trying to do. Still, he didn’t object. The two of you bid your goodbyes and rode home on your Old Man’s Harley.
“You know they’re only joking, right? They don’t really think you’re too old for me.” You told Chibs as you put a pot of water on the stove to boil. Chibs was leaning on an island bench, watching you from the other side of the kitchen.
He only hummed in response, too busy watching you bend over as you searched the refrigerator.
You were dicing up a carrot when you felt hands on your hips, followed by soft lips and scratchy stubble on your neck. You shivered and set the knife down.
“I could’ve chopped my fingers off, you know?” You said, but it came out halfhearted due to the lust that was quickly making you feel lightheaded.
“I wouldn’t let you get hurt.” Chibs mumbled into your neck.
This time it was you who hummed as you tilted your neck and leaned back on your husband. You could feel the bruise forming where your Old Man was sucking and biting at your neck. You let out a soft moan and, in return, Chibs growled lowly and spun you in his arms to smash your lips together in a fierce kiss. You gripped the back of his neck, pulling him in closer and letting his tongue slide into your mouth.
He stepped closer to you, trapping you between his hips and the bench. The felt the bench digging into your lower back but paid it no mind as you could also feel the tent in Chibs’ jeans pressing against your front. Your hands found their way into Chibs’ grey locks, tugging lightly. He reached behind you and shoved the chopping board aside, the carrots scattered, forgotten on the floor. He grasped your hips roughly, lifting you onto the bench. You spread your legs so that Chibs could come to stand between them as he kissed and nipped your neck and chest, pulling on the collar of your shirt to gain more access. (As he kissed you, you reached over to the stove and turned it off so not to burn the house down).
“I don’t care what they say,” he muttered between kisses, “I’m not too old to make you feel good.”
His hands gripped the collar of your shirt and before you could protest he pulled, buttons went flying and your shirt was ruined but you could care less; you’d worry about it tomorrow. Rough, calloused fingers toyed with your bra. He was rubbing and massaging your tits through the thin material, occasionally letting a digit or two slip in to tease your nipples.
You pushed him back (with a whine at the loss) only to push his kutte off his shoulders and pull his shirt over his head. The moment you had rid him of his kutte and shirt, you ran your hands over his chest, the small hairs tickling your pals, and then raked your nails lightly back down his pecs and stomach, stopping at the button of his jeans. Then, you removed your hands to undo the button on your own jeans instead.
“Come on then, old man,” you teased as you undid your jeans at a slow, tantalising pace, “show me what you’ve got left in you.”
Chibs gripped your wrists hard and removed them from your jeans so that he could undo them himself. He dropped to his knees in front of you. You lifted your hips up to help him drag the denim down your legs. He planted kisses along your inner thighs as the smooth skin was revealed. When he had finally rid you of your pants, he went for your underwear next. The bench was cold under you and you couldn’t help but feel slightly exposed from your position, but those thoughts left your mind the moment Chibs stood up and pushed down his own jeans, letting them pool at his ankles.
“Fuck me, old man.” You teased, tugging him closer to you and shuffling further towards him.
“I,” he said, lining his leaking tip to your entrance. He pushed in and you couldn’t contain the cry that spilled from your lips at the feeling of being so full. “Am not old.”
You didn’t get a chance to say anything more before your old man was pounding into you with all that he had. You threw your head back with a particularly loud moan and you felt yourself shudder. You felt like your whole body was on fire; his hips slapping against your thighs, your fingers tangled in his hair, his lips all over your body, every time he touched you felt hotter than the last.
“Do you like it when I take you like this?” He asked.
“God, Chibs, yes!” You moaned out but gasped when he hit your g-spot hard.
You felt your stomach tighten and you knew you were close to finishing. The way Chibs’ thrusts were losing rhythm told you he was too.
“Kiss me,” you ordered and he happily obliged.
The kiss was lazy and hard but passionate; your teeth were clashing but your tongues danced in perfect timing.
“Oh my- Chibs, I’m gonna come!” You whispered into his mouth.
He looked down at you through thick lashes, eyes clouded in desire.
“Good.” His voice was deep and rough, his accent thick. That alone was enough to send you over the edge. Your body shook as you came and you clenched around him. He kept thrusting as you rode out your orgasm, and soon he followed suit as he came inside you with a cry of your name.
He slumped and let his head rest on your shoulder as the two of you caught your breath. You hopped off the bench and put your hands on Chibs’ shoulders to steady yourself, your legs still shaky. Chibs, ever the gentleman, bent down to pick up your panties and his shirt. You thanked him when he passed them to you and slipped them on while he pulled up his own jeans.
“Sorry about your shirt, sweetheart.” He said, although he didn’t sound sorry at all.
You stood on your toes to kiss him deeply. “Do not apologise for that. That was amazing, and I, for one, will never call you old again.”
You didn’t miss the smug smile that made it’s way onto his face.