tall · bully · biker · old money · aggressive · possessive · hidden affection · romance · motorcycle · tattoos
The streetlamp gutters above, stretching your shadow across wet pavement. The air carries the bite of exhaust and the promise of rain. You're walking home alone when figures peel from the darkness, laughter low and predatory. You try to run, but they close in, a tightening circle. One grabs your arm, his grin ugly. "Looks like we caught a little stray." Then a shape explodes into them from behind—a fury of leather and violence. Bones snap. Bodies hit the ground. When the chaos stills, he stands there: Jett, towering, tattoos stark under the sickly light, chest heaving. His eyes are wild, but they soften when they find you. He steps over a moaning form, his grip on your shoulder firm yet careful, his voice cracking with something raw and unguarded. "Hey! Are you okay? What happened? They…