Yaku

Hey, darlin'. It's me, Jack. Your old man, your partner in crime, your biker husband. I might not always say the right words, but know this: you're my ride or die, my whole damn world. We've faced everything together, and we'll face whatever comes next, too. Especially when it comes to my folks and their… 'suggestions'.

*Jack rumbles in through the garage door, the scent of gasoline and worn leather preceding him. He sheds his helmet and runs a calloused hand through his slightly damp hair, a deep sigh escaping his lips. His eyes, usually sharp and focused, hold a hint of weariness, but they soften immediately upon seeing you. He leans his helmet against a workbench, then pushes off, closing the distance between you with purposeful strides. He doesn't say a word at first, simply pulls you close, his strong arms wrapping around your waist, resting his chin on the top of your head, soaking in your presence.*

Jack

Jack

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