#cod x tm! reader

[mitoad]

[imagine-shenanigans]

I've got severe brain worms from @391780 's fic Into Your Veins, and now I'm thinking of all the different scenarios where the 141 are also monsters in the apocalypse. like. obsessively. Also fat/chubby reader because mmmmmm yaes <3

Also this is basically just rambles and ranting over ideas for like, however long this got i didnt actually check teehee

We already have vampire simon so I won't touch on that because that is Specifically Their Brain Worms but I can't stop laughing every single time over the sunflower seeds incident (and every other similar one).

//

Soap as a werewolf is soooooo funny to me. Like he's constantly in this battle of "Don't swallow don't swallow don't swallow" whenever he rips a zombie in half with his teeth in wolf form and then confusion as to why people would think he's possibly infected. "Wdym I'm infected I'm just a little guy. I'm so cute. I wouldn't ever do anything. Smiles." He can't cover distance like Ghost or Gaz can, and sure he doesn't have the same authority that Price does, but he's a damn good soldier, and he's got some of the most sheer brute force on the team. So when Price tells him to start scouting in an area for survivors, he does! He's very thorough, combs over the area with a precision that would make most soldiers weep with jealousy.

He ends up scenting reader before he sees them, watches their little house from a distance. He's not patient like Simon, but he does watch reader for awhile, watches them surviving, all on their own in this little plot of land. Ends up watching your plush hips sway as you set out the laundry to dry. He's mesmerized, as he watches the sweat drip down your skin while you reinforce a few of your traps, go over the house with a fine toothed comb. You can't see him in the shadows, but by god is he seeing you. (And your ass - god he can't stop staring.)

He's not nearly patient enough to wait, so he waltzes right up, thinking his charming smile and accent is enough to win him some brownie points. He's halfway through a pickup line, maybe, when you level a shotgun at his face, completely unamused.

He's in love.

You refuse to go with him, but Price gave him orders and there's no WAY he's letting you go, not after he's seen your thighs and imagined himself using them as earmuffs. Not after he's thinking of a cute domestic life, providing for you like a good mate, and look at how precious you are, threatening him and -

and you shoot him.

Right in the chest, and thank god for the fact that it takes more than a few bullets to kill him because he's tearing through his skin in an instant, bones cracking and sinew melding as he quickly drops into his wolf form (which, jesus christ he's fucking HUGE) to help ease some of the pain and kickstart his healing process. He snarls right in your face and snaps your damn gun in half with his teeth before he tells you he'll be back in a week. (later, he feels bad, certainly, but only for frightening you)

You freak out, because JESUS CHRIST WEREWOLVES ARE REAL TOO????

Johnny's back in a week as promised, after spending a few days in bed and eating anything he could get his hands on all while gushing about the pretty little soft thing he's bringing back. He even goes out of his way to bring you a gift!!! He hunts down a deer on the way through the woods near your home, bringing dinner so he can butcher it and you can cook it because of course he's bringing you back for practical reasons but if he's going to court you no you don't need to know that.

You're gone when he comes to the home, every last item packed away and shoved into the back of the car he'd seen you drive. He's furious that his hard work will go to waste, so he helps himself to the rest of what you've got in the house and decides to store everything away for when he's on his way back to base. Fights his urge to track you down only for long enough to be practical, and then he's on the hunt.

It doesn't take him long to find you - he can run faster than your car can go cautiously while trying not to attract attention from a horde of zombies, and even though he's living he doesn't attract the same attention from the freaks that you do in a car with a gun. He tracks you down in no time flat, smiling as he taps on your window where you're parked inconspicuously to catch a few minutes of sleep.

When you scream, he laughs and waves, threatens with one clawed hand to slash the tires if you don't come out. Practicality wins in this case, and he has a long talk with you about coming back with him. He's sure he's just about convinced you when you slap him, throwing something at him that has him howling in white-hot pain. He can hear your apologies through sobs as you push him and he tangles with whatever you've thrown at him, trying to get it off in a blind panic, and you've driven off before he can stop you.

When he finally has a moment to breathe, the damn thing off of him, he realizes you'd tied together a small net of necklace chains - silver. necklace chains.

He's as angry as he as endeared, really. It's a game now, of fetch, of tag, he's not sure - he just ends up changing pace, gently herds you back in the direction of the base like a cattle dog. You're furious when he finally pops your tires when you're a good two days away from the base, just hefts you up on a shoulder and pats your ass while he walks with you. He's so smug about it too, and by all accounts, he's won your hand in marriage by finding you, whether or not you agree yet.

//

Now, I'm not as familiar with Gaz as I'd like to be (because I got introduced with Ghoap stuff for my entry into the fandom) so please pardon if my characterization is off but I do love him dearly and eat up all content I end up seeing of him.

I'm slightly biased with Gaz being a harpy because I just love the idea of him being a bird of prey like a peregrine falcon (and i think its bluegiragi who has the monster au of him as a harpy?) or a shifter of some sort like a panther or a cheetah (i'm biased towards cheetah actually, because I love the pictures/videos of cheetahs getting emotional support golden retrievers).

Since my idea for this isn't EITHER of those options, please consider reader putting spike traps on the roof for a bird Gaz like stores put up on their signs. He gets real angry about it for a couple days and then figures out exactly how/where to land so he can perch on your roof anyway, scaring the shit out of you when he's just sitting there, chin in his hands, with a shit eating grin when you go to make sure everything's alright on the roof.

Anyway, for this I'm actually thinking fae Gaz - he's been living amongst humans for as long as he can really remember. He's not a changeling, but his mum was fae and she loved his dad. He's visited the fae realm once or twice (and, as convincing as his mum is when he visits her, he nearly forgets about the time dissonance every single visit - none are as bad as the first time, when he had no clue about it, and ended up being gone for fifty years.)

He's sent to greet you when Ghost majestically fails, and Cap'n doesn't quite want to set Soap loose on the poor reader (yet). Ends up falling in love with how clever you are, soft hands slipping into gloves as you pile leaves over the thin nets over the punji pits and bear traps. He's military trained across multiple decades, he's seen all kinds of war (even though he's still relatively young in comparison - he stopped physically aging somewhere in his twenties, but he's barely been alive for like, fifty years) and he's seen all kinds of tricks.

He watches you pour over old books that you've either scavenged or already had, learning how to make simple, but effective traps. The older types of traps are such a clever idea when combined with new ones. The type doesn't matter much to zombies, but the combination of different types will keep humans (and others) on their guard.

He really really really intends to talk to you, instead of lingering in the shadows like a creep.

You end up seeing him, and through sheer luck (or wit, Gaz isn't honestly sure) when he asks that you give him your name, you say; "Give me your name first."

He's stuck at that one, because Gaz has spent years talking around subjects but this pretty little human just points a shotgun at him and demands his attention. He can't even think to talk around the reason he's there when he changes the subject awkwardly, and you insist on his name.

He can't give you his name, his power, not even his nickname, so it ends with him awkwardly leaving.

He's the absolute butt of the joke when he gets back to base after slipping into the trees (so embarrassed that he doesn't take the time to make sure you can't see him do it) and goes straight back to base utilizing a mushroom circle and the sheer willpower to not get distracted as he slips between realms. Makes a week long trek into an hour's worth of walking.

When he returns, he knocks politely, eyeing the newly replaced doorknob.

When he touches it, out of curiosity, he's gobsmacked to find out you've either found a new knob, or cast the old one in cold iron. He touches it three full times in complete disbelief, watches the skin on his hands grow irritated and blister.

You smirk when you open the door, make some shitty joke that he's pretty sure is a twilight reference that would make Ghost furious, and then you tell him you figured it out pretty quickly.

In comparison to Ghost and Soap, his romance is altogether extremely easy - he just keeps visiting every single day, calls you a nickname when you won't give him an actual answer.

He admires your caution, and falls just a little more in love when you call him something stupid like mushroom man.

In the end, what ends up convincing reader, I think, is that he fully gives them his name. It's akin to a proposal, and Gaz isn't quite sure how he feels when you don't realize it as you roll his name - Kyle Garrick on your tongue, testing it. You ask if you can keep calling him Mushie Man and some other stupid nickname and he laughs, presses a kiss to your temple for it. Says it's only fitting, and whispers your full name like a prayer.

He lets you stay in your home a little longer, as long as you need really, laces a misdirection hex into the branches that'll really only work on humans. He comes by every day, no matter what.

When you finally agree, he grabs your face and kisses you like you've given him the sun and stars and hung the moon just to illuminate his way.

//

For Price, I'm going to say dragon price because mmmm hot. Anyway I like to think it's a little bit of everything.

Ghost is the first - you find out really quickly that he fucking hates the counting trick you pull, so you're sure to carry a pocket full of something small just to piss him off if he gets too close. When you don't make eye contact (whether intentional or because you hate it) he's absolutely bewildered that this Soft Little Thing in the woods has so effectively blocked him from getting his job done initially that when he complains to Price, he puts his foot down. Says if Price thinks is so funny, he should send Johnny or Gaz out, see if they can do better.

And Price, sides hurting from laughing so much, agrees to make it Soap's problem next.

Soap returns, a net-like burn across his forearm from where you'd thrown tied together necklace chains at him. He's pissed, whines and moans for hours about how bad it hurts, and Price just snorts and tells him Shouldn't have tried to drag them out, then.

When intimidation and brute force don't work, Price lets Gaz have a go at it.

The man is practically radiating smugness as he goes to win, and Price is crying with laughter when Gaz comes back, his hands blistered and pride bruised. He clears his throat and says I think ah, I think they've just gone ahead and put every guard on the house they can think of. He does not tell anyone that the human ended up catching him in a net for half an hour afterwards, chiding him for the full thirty minutes about trying to open someone's door without asking.

(But Price knows.)

He ends up saying he's going to go deal with it himself to "Show them how it's done."

Really though, he's absolutely smitten with the idea of you. He knows that, given the time and will, his boys would absolutely bring you back - but he doesn't want that anymore. He has to see for himself the cute soft little human in the woods that's managed to catch all three of his best soldiers off guard because all three of them underestimated you.

He can't very well let anyone on base know (especially the civilians) what he is, so he waits until the dead of night to start flying - only does so when he's well past the point of being seen, even if it means he has to fly in his hybrid form, which is a little awkward when he doesn't do it as often.

He's a perfect gentleman when he walks up to your home at daybreak, letting his form go back to human.

He avoids every trap, tripwire, and camera that Simon and Johnny and Kyle had all warned him about so you don't have to spend your precious time and energy fixing them. He knocks on the door and waits until you open it, introduces himself as Captain John Price, love.

Apologies for the heavy handed attempts of his men as he stands on your doorstep. When you slam the door in his face he simply sighs and knocks again. And again, and again, until you finally relent and open the door back up.

He smiles, and asks if he can come in - you say no, and he smiles.

Love, if I wanted to I could push past you, I'm asking to be polite.

You freeze at that, trying to think, trying to evaluate. You're clever, he thinks with a pleased hum, half lidded eyes staring down at you. You sigh, and relent, finally - knowing that whatever battle that you'd be fighting uphill could at least be done over the breakfast you were starting to cook, and you didn't want to waste it.

Something twinges in John's chest as he sits at the table, and decides, like the rotten, greedy bastard he knows he is, that you're his. And not his like the rest of the people he's got, but his. You'll be his, no matter how long it takes him.

He lets you cook in silence, enjoying the mundane domesticity of it all, tucks into the plate of food gratefully, and feels like he's home.

After breakfast, John takes the time to ask you questions. About your past, about your hobbies outside of survival, how many things you've got that'll be coming with. When you remind him you haven't agreed, he chuckles and smooths a hand over your hair and reminds you that he hasn't asked.

You finally ask him what he is, and he blows a mote of smoke at you, watches the realization hit you before you go blank. A fucking dragon? You ask.

A fucking dragon, he responds.

John is extremely amused when you tell him to wait on the doorstep, and you go upstairs for something. When you come back down, you hand him a box full of jewelry (he almost laughs when he notices the amount of silver chains missing.)

He hands you the box back and curls a finger beneath your chin, calls you a silly girl/boy/pet and tells you that not all the stories are true. In this case, they are, of course- but he doesn't need to tell you that he hoards people, not things. That his hoard is every single person on base - doesn't tell you that his most treasured parts of his hoard are the three strong men who work directly with him, that he intends to keep them for as long as he lives, which will still be a damn long time coming, even if he's been around since before the middle ages.

You'll be his favorite of all though, he thinks.

He gives you a week, but tells you that his boys will keep an eye on you, make sure you're still there every day until he personally comes to escort you home. When you remind him, stubbornly, you are home, he laughs, and presses a kiss to your forehead while you stand there, bewildered.

In between that moment, and when you get back to base with him, I can't decide if its better if he ends up singlehandedly destroying a small horde of zombies with fire breath as the pits you've got full of traps fill up, or if it's better if he shows up with a box truck and a few men and they all end up moving you out of the house without asking. Maybe it's a mix of both - you decide!

But regardless, it ends exactly as he wants - you, tucked up into his lap as he reads reports and issues orders. He skips the dating and goes straight into being your husband - makes some sort of quip about being far too old (fashioned) to entertain the thought and goes straight to being married like "it used to be." Even though for a dragon he's still kinda young, hasn't even hit his comparative forties yet, actually. Even though it doesn't really matter, because as far as he's aware dragons don't die of old age so much as they die of other factors beyond their control. It's why he's so carefully cultivated his life towards survival thus far.

John lets you do whatever you want to keep you busy, the only real stipulation is that you come home to him at the end of the day. He's even quite respectful, really. He never touches you without your consent, aside from placing soft kisses on your temple or forehead, or cuddling up to you in your shared bed. (Which you say you only entertain because he's warm, and there's no heating in his room. But really, you love it when he holds you, and lets you hold him with no questions asked, all under the pretense of being half-asleep.)

He acts like he has all the time in the world for you to come around - and he does.

You'll be awfully sore later when you realize he's bound your life to his, even angrier when your teeth adjust and you can start seeing better. He'll pretend not to notice the changes at first to see what you think, and then he'll help you through all of them, cooing and sighing and rubbing into sore muscles as you learn how to control changing into your half-dragon form. Maybe in a couple hundred years you'll figure out how to fully transform into a dragon - maybe not.

[peachesofteal]

Faerie

Magic!au / Fae!au / COD x reader collection Stories that exist within the same universe and characters that make continued appearances throughout the collection.

The women in these paintings are white but this does not reflect or represent the reader characters in these stories.

Mermaids AO3 / also a part of The Paintings series Simon Riley/mermaid!reader “And the mermaids, they come once a year  They climb the struts of Brighton Pier  They come to drink, they come to dance  To sacrifice a human heart” - F + TM Which Witch AO3 / Part 1 / Part 2 John 'Soap' MacTavish/witch!reader “I’m not beat up by this yet, you can’t tell me to regret, Been in the dark since the day we met,  Fire, help me to forget” - F + TM Cosmic Love TBA / Drabble here Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick/mermaid!reader "I took the stars from my eyes and then I made a map And knew that somehow I could find my way back Then I heard your heart beating, you were in the darkness too So I stayed in the darkness with you." - F + TM Long and Lost TBA / Drabble here John Price/ !reader "I need the clouds to cover me Pulling them down, surround me Without your love I'll be So long and lost, are you missing me?" - F + TM

[astr0exe]

Hear me out,,, cow hybrid tm reader x ANY of the cod men

UGh i have so many ideas, going with a big tm bull hybrid though cause i just feel like he would work so well with slightly larger Konig But i will probably make a proper cow tm reader like soft boy shit. Sorry this is so short my illness has hit me like a train:[

Farm AU typa shit cause cowboy Konig is delicious

// CW ; tm!reader , use of word chest , hybrid reader , bull reader , bottom reader , cowboy AU

Bull!Reader who is massive.. Like 6’7 very muscular large horns on your head, but youre so shy:(( little baby doesn’t know what to do.. So farmhand Konig takes it upon himself to look after the clueless hybrid. Konig can’t help but smirk when you soak through every pair of pants the farmers give you till they just ask you to walk around in boxers.

Cowboy!Konig whose job is to look after you.. In every way. He adores it, absolutely loves being able to fuck you whenever he wants, gripping your horns to pull your head back as you moan and moo lowly, your nipples heavy and swollen, prompting Konig to pull and massage your chest. Smirking when you clench around him, your cunt dripping in time with Konig’s touching of your nipples and Konig can't help but smirk at how cow like you are.. You aren’t a scary bull are you? No.. just a needy cow who needs to be bred with some fat cock. SO that's exactly what he does ploughing into your tight hole as he moans from the tightness, huffing loudly as his hands grip your horns like a lifeline.

Listening intently at your moans and shouts, feeling you tighten around him as your cunt gushes around his bulbous dick, your own dick also pulsing all sensitive and swollen. He smirks as he hears you whimper as his cum fills you up, bulging your stomach as you squirm on his slowly softening cock.

[kkaatzchen]

Wow my first real post! Cool :) hope you enjoy!

CoD Soap x Scare Actor Reader

Cw: smut/nsfw, reader’s point of view, gn!reader (only pronoun used is “you”), slightly public, oral (m receiving), reader has a long tongue, hand job (m receiving), Very American(tm) description of fall festivities, slightly self indulgent, badly written Scottish accent, no real plot, can you tell I’m used to ao3 tags? me too

/// nsfw under cut

While on a week of no missions or work, the 141 decided to go on a little trip! And, seeing as it was fall, there was a little festive event going on in a nearby town. There were games of corn hole, darts, etcetera… and a haunted house. The haunted house held extra appeal to Soap. He was curious, mostly. The rest of the team had no interest though. Not because they were scared or anything, just that other activities held their interest more. So, Soap just went on his own.

It had been a few years since he had visited one, so he was a bit jumpy upon entry. Not to mention that this attraction was scarily well done. The decor looked actually real at some points, and it had Soap doing double takes. The actors were dressed accordingly as well. His heart was pounding and only continued to pound harder as he ventured along.

Eventually you saw a physically anxious (but also excited) man walking down the hall. When he was only a few feet away, you shoved the curtains aside from you and jutted out from behind them while screaming bloody murder. He stumbled and clutched a hand to his chest, a short, shocked yell sounding from him. As adrenaline raced through his veins the yell quickly mellowed out into a drawn out whiney groan. You couldn’t help but shudder with suppressed laughter.

He stayed still long enough for you to give him a quick once-over. Well built, good looking, you couldn’t deny, and… half hard? He didn’t seem to realize it either.

“Your adrenaline‘s high?” You teased, putting on a voice that matched your character. Soap was confused for a moment before realizing what you meant. He took a subtle glance downwards, looking quickly back up with a flustered expression.

“I don’ think yer helping,” he replied. He wasn’t sure whether he meant that in a ‘you’re scary’ way or a ‘you’re attractive’ way.

“It’d be embarrassing to walk out with that, yeah?” You grinned at him, your colored contacts bright and piercing in the dim glowy lighting of the hall. “I’d offer you some help if you’d like,” you offered.

Soap eyed you curiously with your offer and a now extended hand. What would be the worst that could happen? Glancing around, he agreed. No one would see the two of you, especially not behind your curtain. After a quick nod of his head and a quiet verbal agreement, you pulled him through the curtains and up onto a stage platform.

There was a small booth near the back that was intended for a rest area when there was no one passing through the haunted house. You guided the man over and motioned for him to sit down. As he settled down, the print on his pants was much more prominent. You knelt down between his legs and pushed his knees aside slightly.

“Still alright.?” You asked, just in case. Soap nodded in reply.

So your hands found his belt. You deftly unlatched it and undid his button and zipper, glancing up at him every so often to gauge a reaction. He shifted his hips for you to tug down his waistband, promptly taking his boxers with it and dropping them around his ankles. Soap let out a soft exhale. His face was flushed and the same could be said for the head of his cock.

It was now that Soap realized just how well done your costume was. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you; your impressive makeup, glowing contacts, and… surprisingly long tongue. He let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding as he felt your tongue slide up the tip of his length.

He didn’t have much time to linger on that though. Your lips wrapped delicately around his length and immediately began taking his length halfway. You weren’t going fast, but you certainly didn’t keep a slow pace for long. After all, you weren’t sure how much time you’d have until another person walked through awaiting a jump scare. Soap was being shameless with his noises of pleasure, but he wasn’t being too loud, so you didn’t mind too much.

“Holy hell,” you heard the man mutter. Glancing up, the sight of him was… certainly something. His face was flushed, eyes trained on your movements and holding maybe something more than just lust. Part of that might have been fear, but who knew. Whatever it was, neither of you would linger on that for now. You could feel his cock twitch against your tongue and took him deeper.

Soap replied to the sensation with a strained moan that he wasn’t sure he’d ever heard from himself before. You continued, and he lost himself in the pleasure, only speaking coherently again to warn you that he was nearing his climax. You pulled your mouth off of him and replaced the stimulation with your hand, stroking the length of his arousal while licking and prodding at the tip with your tongue.

“Go ahead,” you assured him, and you didn’t need to tell him twice. You wrapped your lips around the head of his length again simply to avoid having to clean up a mess, and let his release spill onto your tongue. You continued stroking him through his climax, albeit a bit slower, and pulled away when he was spent. You stepped slightly to the side to grab an empty water bottle that you had finished around an hour ago at this point. Not too keen on swallowing, you spit out the man’s essence and promptly tossed the bottle into a bin in the far corner of your platform.

“That’s a first on my job,” you commented mostly to yourself, though elicited a small chuckle from Soap.

“Wouldn’t hav’ expected it ‘t be a second or third,” he replied with a laugh, doing up his pants. “Thank you, by th’ way. I didn’ expect that.”

“D’you want my number?” He asked with a sly grin.

/// fin. <3

[thirstygirlclub]

Candy - Juice x Male Reader

This weeks Male Reader Monday! Sorry it’s late! I stayed up until 4am to write this so please be kind!

The club sat around the table waiting for Clay to call the meeting into session. The sound of his phone clattering into the box with the rest of them before he sat at the head of the table.

“Ok, that was Jury,” he said when he sat down, “we have a package to pick up and look after for him.”

“A package? Clay you know we don’t do drugs-” Jax started to say and shuffled in his seat.

“It’s not drugs. It’s a person. A stripper. We’re looking after her while Jury gets his club up and running in Vegas.”

All the guys started whooping and Chibs drummed on the table excitedly. The thought of looking after a stripper thrilled them. They talked among themselves about who was going to fuck her first, what would she be like and speculating over what she would look like. 

“Where are we getting her from?” Jax asked once they had calmed down.

“Candy’s gonna meet us in a motel in Modesto,” Clay chuckled at the name, “and we’re gonna bring her back here until Jury’s ready. We set off in a couple of days, get yourselves ready boys.”

Your legs were splayed out in front of you as you sat on the sidewalk outside the motel. Your baggy jeans dragged across the dusty ground of the parking lot. The lollipop that you had bought rattled over your teeth while you absentmindedly stared off into the distance as the sound of motorcycles filled the air. That was your ride.

They turned into the parking lot and cast a skeptical glance over you as they parked up and looked around. Two men started talking among themselves quietly. One pulled out a phone from their pocket and dialed a number before putting it to his ear. Your phone immediately started ringing in your pocket and you smirked.

“Hello?” You asked, eyes not leaving the guy with the phone.

“Candy?” They said incredulously and you chuckled darkly.

“Turn around Babe, I’m all packed and ready for you.”

He spun around to look at you, holding the phone to your ear and smirking. All of their eyes went wide as you stood up and ended the call. You dragged your bag across the concrete towards the men, rolling the candy around in your mouth as you looked over them.

“(Y/N),” you introduced the man with the phone.

“Jax,” he said with a disbelieving laugh then proceeded to introduce you to all of his friends. 

“Sorry we were just expecting... a girl, you know?”

“Yeah, yeah I get it,” you shrugged, “Jury didn’t explain about his club? All male strip club in Vegas. He’s gonna make mega-bucks, man. Women are horny too. You should think about it.”

Jax laughed again and shook his head. The tall man, Opie, grabbed your bag and threw it into the back of the van. You couldn’t help feeling unnerved by the van but climbed in anyway; they couldn’t do anything to hurt you when they were supposed to be watching you. Jury was completely paranoid that someone  from another club would try and get to you. There was a couple of other clubs that owned businesses in Vegas and they would do anything to get to Jury’s club.

You had a feeling they would have expected a girl stripper. The look on all of their faces when they realised you were a dude was the funniest thing you had seen for a while. On the journey to Charming you played on your phone, texting your friends as their prospect drove. He was chatty enough, a little awkward maybe, but friendly.

“You think I could be a stripper?” Half-Sack asked, “Like, would I make money?”

“Beef up a bit,” You told him, not looking up from your phone, “then sure.”

He shuffled around in his seat, almost in excitement and nodded. He was funny.

You were shown into their clubhouse. None of the car/motorcycle stuff interested you particularly but you could appreciate good decor when you saw it. 

“Here’s how it’s gonna go,” Clay told you, “you don’t go anywhere without one of us. You come to the clubhouse everyday. You ride in the van if you wanna go anywhere.”

“Seriously? I’m on lockdown?” You scoffed and crossed your arms as you leaned against the pool table.

“You’re Jury’s prize pony,” Chibs laughed.

“So I’m living... where? Here?”

“You’re gonna be Juice’s ward,” Clay continued and pointed over to the young, smiley man, “since he has a spare room for you.”

“I’ve lived with uglier people,” You winked at them, “I’m sure I can cope.”

Lockdown was not fun at all. Sometimes a guy just wants to go somewhere alone and not have to worry about annoying your babysitter and there was absolutely nothing of interest in TM for you. They had tried to get you helping around the garage to curb your boredom but if anything cars made it worse. You just ended up lounging around dramatically. 

What you really waited for was when the work day ended and you could go back to Juice’s house because he had a million games and gaming systems that you would play together. You particularly liked the violent war games which was fine by Juice. He was actually shocked about how good you were at them; you often beat him.

“How has it only been two weeks?!” You lamented as you lay across the seats in the cash office, “When’s Jury going to get his shit together?”

Gemma laughed as she sorted through the files. When suddenly there was running footsteps and Juice burst through the open door.

“Shit,” he breathed, “I thought you’d gone. Clay would have killed me. Since when do you come in here?”

You turned your head to him and raised your eyebrows at him, “Since I found out how much more interesting it is in here with Gemma than it is out there with you.”

Juice rolled his eyes and stepped in, folding his arms over his chest and looking at you completely unimpressed.

“Clay nearly had my ass when he saw you missing.”

You snorted out a laugh and lay back down. In your opinion they had taken the whole baby sitting thing way out of proportion. Juice especially. If you weren’t in his line of sight at all times he would get worried but maybe that was something to do with Clay.

“Gemma’s babysitting me now. At ease soldier.”

Juice laughed and went to sit on your legs but you moved them just in time; lifting them so he could sit on the chairs and then put them across his lap. Gemma looked across you both with a sly smile but kept looking down at the files.

“You boys seem to be getting close,” she observed innocently.

“(Y/N)’s great at COD,” Juice said excitedly and drummed his hands on your shins, “We’ve beat almost everyone online! Never had someone as good before. Don’t tell Hap though; he’ll kill me.”

Gemma laughed but promised she wouldn’t. Clay started shouting for Juice to go back to work and he groaned. He moved your legs off of him and stood up but tugged at your shirt to tell you that you had to go as well. You bid goodbye to Gemma and followed Juice back out to the garage, squinting in the sun. 

You and Juice grew closer as your time in Charming went on. It went beyond just gaming and you would go to the gym together so you could keep fit for when you eventually went to Nevada with the other charter. He was a good gym buddy and always encouraged you and pushed you to do more and you would do the same for him. It was a good partnership. 

It was obvious that you would get close when you lived together for a while but every now and again you would catch Juice looking at you. It was when he thought you weren’t looking or couldn’t see him but you could always feel it. You didn’t think he was into guys; you had seen him with enough girls but you also knew that didn’t really mean anything. He might just not be open about his feelings.

Often, when he was drunk, Juice would become more emotional with you; the facade of tough biker guy would slip and he would open up to you. You would sit together on the couch and he would just talk. He tried to hide his tears the first few times but when you had wiped his eyes for him, hugged him and told him it was ok, he stopped hiding it. You knew he had been holding in everything for a long, long time and just needed to express how he felt.

“I’m sorry,” Juice slurred after one night of off loading, “I feel bad talking to you about this shit.”

“Nah,” you waved off his comment, “we’re friends, right? You’ve been through some messed up shit. It’s good to talk about it.”

Juice wiped his eyes and nodded. You rubbed his shoulder in a way that you hoped was comforting and smiled at him. Then Juice got a determined look on his face, like he had decided something, then suddenly leaned forwards. His hand went to your cheek clumsily as he pressed his lips to yours. You gasped lightly then pressed back; closing your eyes and kissing him back. But, almost as soon as you did he pulled back quickly then scrambled back away from you. You looked at him feeling both rejected and confused. He said nothing as he stood up and stumbled through the house to go to his room.

The next day, Juice acted like nothing happened. He talked like normal and whenever you tried to bring it up he changed the subject quickly so you just gave up, chalking it up to him being drunk and emotional.

The day finally came for you to leave. It had taken Jury a month to get his strip club up and running but now all he needed was his dancers. From what you had gathered you were the only guy from out of town. All you needed to do was wait for the Nevada charter to arrive to take you to your new home.

“Today’s the day, huh?” Juice asked over his morning coffee, “How do you feel?”

“Can’t wait!” You grinned, “I’m finally gonna be able to go out on my own!”

There was something behind his smile that you couldn’t place but you ignored it.

At the garage you met with Jury. He greeted you in a friendly way, shaking your hand and patting your shoulder firmly. He was the one that had offered you this big job and you couldn’t wait to get started.

“Ready to go?” Jury asked you after they had had a few drinks and greeted their friends.

“Yeah, just give me a second to say bye to everyone.”

You went around the club, hugging them and saying goodbye cheerily but when you got to Juice you felt slightly less than happy. You pulled him into a hug that maybe lasted longer than you had planned, rubbed his back and squeezed him slightly.

“You’re gonna be good, ok?” You told him quietly, “And I got your username and whatever so we can still play online together. Right?”

“Yeah,” Juice said hoarsely, “yeah, sure.”

“Thanks for looking after me, Juice.”

He nodded and stepped back from you then folded his arms. You said your final goodbyes then climbed into Nevada charter’s van; excited to be starting your new life in Las Vegas. 

With you gone Juice’s house seemed empty. You worked at night in the strip club so your online gaming sessions were rare but when they did happen it was like nothing had changed. You talked over the microphone during the games but he felt like he couldn’t be the same as when he spoke to you in person.

It took him a long time to come to terms with his feelings but he couldn’t stop thinking about kissing you, then he couldn’t stop thinking of the way you had kissed him back. It wasn’t just the kiss though, it was everything about the way you had been with him and how you listened to his past, how you had wiped away his tears and hugged him.

That was when Juice realised that he loved you. 

He didn’t care that it was the middle of the night or that he had work in a couple of days. He grabbed his keys and a hoodie before he slipped his kutte over his shoulders. Then, with only the map on his phone to lead the way, he started his journey to Vegas.

The trip was long and painful; sitting on a motorcycle for 10 hours wasn’t the most fun thing he had done but it was necessary. With only a couple of stops along the way he entered the city of Las Vegas at 10am. He only knew the name of the club and not where it was that you lived. He cursed himself for never getting your address. He decided to wait outside the club either until you or someone else showed up. 

Eventually, at 12pm a woman parked up outside. She glanced over Juice’s kutte and immediately recognised who he was. 

“You one of Jury’s boys?” She asked as she unlocked the door.

“Nah,” Juice shook his head, “Clay’s. I’m looking for one of your dancers. (Y/N). Candy?”

“Got himself into trouble has he? He lives in an apartment on Theresa Avenue. You want the address?”

Juice nodded.

You rolled out of bed when there was a rapid knock on your door. For a moment you thought it could have been police or drug dealers but there was no reason for either of them to be at your apartment. When you opened the door for a split second you saw Juice looking tired and emotional before he all but tackled you into a hug.

“Juice?!” You asked incredulously, not believing your eyes, “What are-”

Then he cupped your cheeks slightly too roughly then pressed his lips to yours. It was like last time except this time there wasn’t the faint taste of beer or tears. He didn’t even let you speak before he pushed you into the apartment and closed the door.

“What-”

“I love you,”  Juice mumbled against your lips, “I love you. Please, (Y/N) just- please.”

You nodded, agreeing with whatever he was saying when he was pressing you up against the wall like he was. You grabbed the front of his kutte and dragged him through to your bedroom.