#Juan Carlos Juice Ortiz

[juancarlos-ortiz]

Safe - Juice Ortiz x Reader (Daughter!Reader x Dad!Happy Lowman)

Request:

A/N: I hope you enjoy anon! I'm sorry this ended up being more Reader x Happy (daughter/father) than Juice x Reader. I'm thinking of doing a part 2 if anyone is interested. Also, lets say that reader is early 20s and Happy was like 15 when she was conceived otherwise I feel like the age gaps would get a little inappropriate.

Warnings: fluff, mentions of sex (off page), kissing, swearing, mentions of killing and violence

Word Count: 1984 words

You wiped the sweat from your brow as you panted, your chest rising and falling rapidly with each inhale and exhale. Sitting up, you leaned onto one side, resting your weight on your elbow on the bed as you looked down at Juice. He was puffing like you, a satiated smile spreading across his face as he let his eyes roam down the length of your body hungrily. You rolled your eyes and huffed out a laugh, dragging the top sheet up from the end of the bed and draping it over your clammy skin. "No, no, no," Juice tutted, ripping the sheet away from you. "Don't hide from me now." He gently nudged you back down, leaning over you and grazing his teeth against the soft skin of the top of your breast.

You gasped lightly, trembling as his hands began to map the warm skin of your torso. "Juice," mumbled as he kissed your exposed chest, slowly making his way towards your peaked nipple. "Hmmm?" he hummed against your skin, drawing a shuddered breath out of you. "We gotta get up," you pushed him off you gently and he groaned, flopping onto his back dramatically and throwing his arm over his eyes to shield them. "Don't wanna," he pouted. You laughed and leaned over, pressing your mouth against his. "You need to get to TM and I told Jax I would watch Abel today, since Gemma isn't up for it and Tara is working."

Juice groaned again. "Do you think bikers can take sick days?" he asked. You just laughed, standing up and grabbing both of your towels from where they hung on the back of your bedroom door. You threw them at him, staring hungrily at his naked form as he made his way to your ensuite. "Your dad has really been giving me shit lately, it's almost like he knows somethings going on," he said. Your stomach soured, any inkling of arousal now completely extinguished. "I really don’t appreciate you bringing up my father after what we've just been doing," you grated out. Juice only laughed, disappearing into your bathroom and turning the shower on.

You pulled on your dressing gown and made your way to your kitchen, switching the electric kettle on and grabbing two mugs out of the cupboard. The low rumble of a motorcycle engine made you pause, tilting your head to the side as you listened. The noise got closer, and suddenly your pulse began to sprint as the bike audibly slowed down out the front of your house. You rushed to the front door, peaking through the curtained window to the side of it. "Shit," you cursed as you watched Happy Lowman swing himself off his bike, undoing his helmet. "Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit," you whispered in a panic, running to your bathroom.

You dragged the shower curtain open quickly, making Juice jump. "Jesus Christ, sweetheart, couldn't wait to get in here huh?" he wiggled his eyebrows seductively. "Juice, baby, I need you to be quiet, ok," you said, waving your hand at him to get him to shut up. His brow furrowed in confusion. "It's funny that you mentioned my dad…" you trailed off. Juice's eyebrows shot up his forehead. "What?!" he asked. You held a finger to your lips as you heard your front door open. "Ok, keep quiet and let me get rid of him."

"'Ey kid, you here?" Happy called out. You left the bathroom, shutting the door behind you and making your way out to where your father stood. You ran a hand over your hair and pulled your dressing gown closer to your body as you walked towards him. "Hey dad, not like you to swing by this early," you smiled, trying to act calm while your heart thundered in your chest. Happy looked you up and down, a scowl on his face. Hiding things from your dad was damn near impossible, and when you did you felt extremely guilty for it. But with your situation with Juice, you had no choice. There was no way he would allow it, and you didn’t want Juice to end up as another tattoo on your fathers stomach.

"You don't want me here?" he grunted, flicking the toothpick in his mouth from side to side. You laughed awkwardly, resting your fists on your hips as you shook your head. "What? No! Of course I want you here, I just… wasn't expecting you that's all," you rambled, motioning to the kitchen. "Otherwise I would of made you some breakfast." Happy's eyes drifted to the kitchen, landing on the two mugs you had left out. You swallowed, your smile faltering. "Looks like you were expecting someone," he scowled. You nodded slowly. "Yeah, I mean, I heard your bike coming so… I thought you might want a coffee or something," you smiled. "But you came from your bedroom?" he asked. You huffed out a frustrated laugh. "Geez, what's with the interrogation?"

Happy only tilted his head, crossing his arms as his mouth pulled into a grumpy frown. "I was running to turn the shower off," you explained. Happy shook his head. You could feel your lies unravelling at the seams, your stomach beginning to feel queasy. "Shower's still on," he prodded. You swallowed thickly, nodding. "I know, I'll go turn it off now," you turned on your heel and began to walk away. "Why is Juice's bike out the front?" he asked. You froze immediately, cold washing over you from head to toe. Slowly you turned, meeting your fathers eyes. "Is it?" you asked, your voice a higher octave. "Maybe he knows the neighbours or something," you tried to shrug nonchalantly, scrabbling to hold onto your last efforts to keep your secret.

"Wrong," was all you father said before he brushed past you, heading into your room. You spun after him, grasping his arm in an attempt to stop him from going any further. "Wait, no wait, dad please I can explain," you pleaded as he shrugged out of your grip. He opened your bedroom door and froze when he saw Juice's cut and clothes folded neatly on the armchair in the corner of your room. Happy turned to you, his face now in an angry grimace. "Don't hurt him," you begged, your voice a hoarse whisper. Happy just kept moving, pulling open the bathroom door and ripping the shower curtain to the side. Juice yelped, covering his groin, his eyes bouncing between you and Happy frantically. "Oh, hey Hap," he said awkwardly, a scared smile on his face. "Fancy seeing you here?"

"Get dressed," Happy barked. "And get to the clubhouse. Now. Before I do something to make you both cry." He pulled the curtain shut and spun to face you. "Living room, now," he growled. "I think there's some things you need to tell me." You nodded, your eyes downcast, unable to meet his stare. Happy left the room and you followed miserably, your heart feeling ready to fracture. No doubt this was the end of you and Juice, there was no way in hell Happy would let you keep seeing him, especially after you had lied about it. Despite being a legal adult, you still never wanted to do things to disappoint your father. Even if it meant sacrificing your own happiness. That and you wanted to prevent the amount of dead bodies piling up in the San Joaquin area.

You slowly sat down on the couch, the backs of your eyes stinging and a lump forming in your throat. You tried to squash the sensations, knowing Happy wouldn’t have any sympathy for tears at this moment. You heard your bedroom door open as Juice stepped out, now fulling clothed, doing his cut up. He stopped when he saw you sitting on the couch, your hands folded in your lap timidly, your eyes brimming silver with unshed tears. He glanced between you and Happy, and for a second you were sure he was going to make his way to you , perhaps comfort you. But instead he turned, and made his way to the front door. It wasn't until the door had closed and you heard his bike start up and pull away that Happy spoke.

"You keepin' shit from me now?" he asked. You shrugged, picking at one of your nails. "You would never have allowed it," you sniffed, blinking the tears away. "Allowed what?" Happy prompted. You looked up at him, pulling your bottom lip into your mouth. You motioned your head towards the front door that Juice had left through. "Juice and I…" you leant back into the cushions of the couch. "And what are you?" Happy asked. Your brows pulled together. "What?" you questioned. "You and Juice," Happy grated. "What are you?" You scoffed and shook your head. "You really want me to explain?" you choked out. Happy shook his head. "You his Old Lady, or what?" he pressed.

Your mouth pressed into a line, and you shook your head. "No, it's not like that it's just… casual," you said. Happy's face turned bitter. "What, so you would be ok with it if I was his Old Lady?" you asked, confused and a little hopeful. It was your fathers turn to shrug. "Just don’t want you being treated like some croweater," he admitted. You sat up straighter, shaking your head. "He doesn’t treat me like that dad," you said, holding a hand up when Happy tried to cut you off. "Seriously, he's so sweet. The sweetest. And kind and generous, and thoughtful. He's funny and understanding and-" "Alright alright, I get it," Happy cut you off. "I feel safe with him," you admitted. "There's not many people I can say that about."

Happy knew you were right. Since you were young it had been you and him. Your mom had split and even though he had his mom and aunt to help out when you were younger, you two had basically been joined at the hip. He had been there for every bumped head, scraped knee, fractured bone and broken heart since you had entered this world. He was your safe place to land, and to hear you admit that someone else made you feel that way too - although in an obviously different way - had him feeling conflicted. On the one hand, he didn’t want to share you. Wanted to hide you from the world and not let anyone ever know about you. But on the other hand, you weren't his little girl anymore. At least not physically. You were all grown up, and to know that someone other than him made you feel safe, well… who was he to stand in your way.

Slowly he nodded his head. "Gonna take me a while to be really ok with it," he said. "But I ain't gonna stop you from doing what you want. Or being with who you want. Especially if he makes you happy." You stood abruptly from the couch, a slow smile spreading across your face. "Wait, what?" you sputtered. "If he makes you happy then I don’t see why I should stop… whatever it is you’re doing," he gestured vaguely. You grinned and raced over to your father, wrapping your arms around his middle tightly. He gripped you back, resting his cheek on the top of your head. "But if he hurts you, then he's gotta die. Like a lot," he vowed. You rolled your eyes and pulled away. "Yeah, yeah, drama queen," you pushed Happy away. "Gonna go talk to him," Happy said, moving towards the front door. "Wait, wait, what? No, what?" you blabbed, following him. "Gotta make sure he knows what'll happen if he fucks this up," he explained. "You're not gonna hurt him are you?" you asked. Happy smiled dryly. "Don't worry. I'll leave his pretty face alone."

#sons of anarchy #soa #juice ortiz #juice soa #juan carlos juice ortiz #juan carlos ortiz #juice ortiz fanfic #juice ortiz fanfiction #juice ortiz fic #sons of anarchy fanfiction #juice ortiz imagine #sons of anarchy fic #happy soa #happy lowman

[cloveroctobers]

FEBRUARY FLUFF — JUAN “JUICE” ORTIZ.

A/N: Juice was always my man when it came to SOA and I’ll forever be traumatized and bitter over his storyline + how he was treated. That’s probably one of the reasons why I’ll never do a rewatch tbfh. In my mind he’s thriving and I’ve always wanted happiness for him and that’s what he’s gonna get here! Also my first time ever writing for this man so go easy on me although this is more HC (my version) form. Have a happy love day whether it’s with a significant other, family, friends, or just yourself! know that you’re always worthy and capable of receiving and giving love and not just on this one day of the year 🩷🫡

PROMPTS ARE FROM HERE + I’m using: 19. "can i see your hand?" / "sure, why?" / "so i can see how well it fits with mine." + 35. "let's take a stupid walk for our stupid mental health!"

જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩

When you got word from your mother that Juan was back in town for good, you had to see so for yourself.

January’s always been gloomy but when you came face to face with the man you haven’t seen in years at the front door of his mother’s, you wanted to collapse but managed to keep your composure.

Juan’s sad but somewhat still warm eyes are unsure at first, taking in your facial expression but you clear his concerns as you’re yanking him tightly to your body in a tender embrace.

And he feels like he might just break down himself in your arms.

You were just what he needed.

The both of you had to make up for lost time and Juan had to keep convincing you that he wasn’t going anywhere.

Things didn’t work out in his favor in California (little did you know, he barely made it out alive) and Juan never wanted you to visit, although your older brother and his girlfriend, Saskia lived out there—which means you took trips but in a sense you learned to accept that was Juan’s way of protecting you from the demons that latched onto his soul.

You couldn’t take it personally since Ms. Hilda, his mother never visited either but spoke to him every couple of months—which may have been hard or if not harder for her.

Although the both of your mother’s were good friends that didn’t mean the both of you didn’t have your share of childhood trauma’s (because of them) that bled into your adulthood.

Nonetheless the both of you spent a month reconnecting, taking each day by day as it took to rebuild a friendship.

It felt right having Juan back in your life and he can honestly say the same.

“I never knew how much I missed you until I saw your face again,” he said to you over the phone one night.

Juan’s always been a sweetheart and never had an issue expressing his love for you to the point many kids back in school questioned if you were dating.

It never happened but that didn’t mean Juan didn’t want it to yet you found yourself in a few relationships here and there. Which was brought up by your mother during a birthday dinner for your brother (who was visiting) that February.

“I find it hard to believe that you’re still single. I mean hell, when is anybody going to give me a grandchild?” Your mother chatted over a glass of Cabernet playfully glaring at your brother who cleared his throat before setting her eyes back on you, “You know I saw Marlon just the other day?”

You fought the urge to roll your eyes at this. You’ve only been at the table for ten minutes, supposedly going over the menu and yet here your mother was worrying about children and your love life.

And she just had to bring your college ex into it.

“Really,” you gave faux interest as you viewed the entrees.

“Mhm. He’s been divorced for a few years now and he’s single. I even showed him a picture of you to see if he remembered you. He laughed about it and said he thought you were with Juan now.”

Your brother is coughing now on his own drink and his girlfriend of four years is patting him on the back.

Glancing to your right you stare at Juan rubbing at his face in thought, who mentally seemed to be having a tough day today. He stayed at your house last night and apologized over breakfast about how he got into these dark moods.

You assured him that he didn’t have to apologize for his feelings. Asking if he wanted to be your plus one tonight, only if it was up for it.

He’d push through it for you because he was devoted to being near you as much as possible since he didn’t want to lose anymore time with his best friend.

How would Marlon assume this? You’re turning back to your mother now, furrowed brows while you reply, “why did he think that?”

“He said he saw the both of you running around the park together. He wanted to say hi but you and Juan seemed to be racing and he didn’t want to interrupt.” Your mother informs, staring at you two underneath her eyelashes with her lips moving back to the rim of her glass.

This didn’t make you feel any sort of way because you also haven’t seen Marlon in years either. You weren’t really checking for him but—the breakup didnt turn sour—it was mutual! however it was interesting to see different perspectives on how people viewed you and Juan.

Juan was gone from New York by the time you both reached your early twenties and by then you were still with Marlon. Juan would visit up at school and hung out with you two a couple of times! even when Marlon tried to put him onto some college girls…there was a part of Juan that felt like he was guilty of something.

Even when he engaged in activities—sure it may have felt great in the moment but he always ended up feeling like shit since he wanted it to be you.

So yes you were part of the reason why he got out of New York and to find a better sense of direction for himself.

You’re shrugging your shoulders redirecting the conversation, “well..I’m sorry things didn’t work out with his wife.”

“Are you?”

“Mom! Chill.” Your brother stepped in which you were somewhat thankful for. Why were you always getting shit on when you knew it was on the tip of your mother’s tongue that your brother “should” be thinking about marriage since she hinted at you once before during your girl’s day.

Although you and your dad both were aware that your brother didn’t want to get married.

“I’m just saying you should think about it or what about that guy from high school? The funny looking one.”

“They were both goofy to me. Especially Stu.” Your brother snorted while you shielded your middle finger from your mother to direct at your sibling.

Your first boyfriend was senior year and he cheated on you with a redhead because he got dumped prior to asking you out. It made sense to him but definitely not to you.

Yeah that’s highschool stupidity for you!

Juan shuddered at the mention of your first boyfriend, “man that guy? He was ridiculously obnoxious in and outside of class and hung out with that other guy…the one who gave me serious serial killer vibes.”

“You did always say that,” you laughed to yourself and couldn’t deny it. You never wanted to be alone with Stu’s best friend at the time, the way his dark eyes bored into yours always made you feel uneasy.

“He’s harmless!” Stu would persuade you before always leaving you with him for at least a minute or two.

Your mother pried, “Well where is he now?”

“Hell if I know? Probably married to another redhead with three or four kids? Still possibly cheating? What is this, a walk down memory lane?”

Juan could sense you were getting agitated about this and placed his hand right above your knee which made you exhale.

Your mother is raising her hands, “I’m just looking out for you and your brother’s happiness. That’s all.”

“I am happy. Go dig in his business then, it’s his birthday anyway.” You suggested while your mother just scoffed.

Raising your brows, your mother continued knowing that you were always ready to challenge her, “I will but when’s the last time you’ve been in a serious relationship?”

“Are you the expert when it comes to relationships now? You waited six months after the divorce from dad to get married to someone else. You settled for dad’s bullshit for years and now suddenly you want to micromanage what goes on in mine? Are you keeping this same energy with your step kids?”

Your brother is calling your name as a warning now but you couldn’t lie and say you weren’t triggered.

growing up having your mother constantly in your ear saying to you, “you’ll never get a bf because of xyz.” Simply from little stupid things you would do as a pre-teen to teenage years was damaging because you were just an insecure kid not worrying about romantic relationships in the slightest. Although you had a mother who seemed to be more concerned about the male gaze for you.

So what if your room got messy? So what if there were days where you didn’t want to be bothered with your hair? Or was too much in grown folks business when your mother would gossip on the phone about inappropriate subjects right in front of you! while also bringing up all of your business to her friends or family members like some sort of humiliation tactic and then never taking your emotions into account when you voiced your discomfort?

Don’t get it wrong, of course you had love for your mother but you couldn’t erase what was said and done. A list of things that still stuck with you and things that you should perhaps just “let go of,” yet she still felt comfortable to talk about your love life like you were some low self-esteem kid.

You never had that relationship where you felt safe to share anything with your mother because of her critiques.

“Hold on now, I’m just trying to make conversation—

“You don’t need to. Not when it comes with an opinion i never asked for to match.”

Then comes the tears and Saskia is tending to her, whisking your mother away to the bathroom with her crying to Sas about how she, “tries to be a good mother and these are the things she gets.”

“Did you have to do this on my day?” Your brother sighs while your eyes are in slits.

“You and dad are the exact same, always expecting me to just take it. I don’t give a damn if it was Easter, if she’s coming at me then I’m going to let her know. I know she’ll always be mom but she refuses to ever see my side on anything.”

“Why does it have to be about sides? We’re family at the end of the day.”

The famous excuse for it all so it seems!

“And we must always be on some we are the world bullshit too, no matter what huh?”

Juan covers his snort at this, which earns him a look from your brother, leaving Juan to mumble out an apology.

It’s quiet for a moment as your brother tries to figure out how to make this okay but you don’t want to stick around to continue this dinner. In your eyes it felt ruined already.

Only seconds pass when you decide it’s best if you go. You’re on your feet, slipping back into your outerwear before wrapping an arm across your brother’s shoulders squeezing him as you peck his temple.

“Love you, mean it. I’ll take you out myself at another time.” You say as all your older brother can do is nod his head, briefly resting his hand on top of yours before you let go.

You’re peering at Juan who’s still seated and say, “want to take a walk with me?”

“Sure, whatever you want, yeah!” He sits up before grabbing his beanie and jacket, “I don’t care.”

You quickly begin to walk off before your sas and your mom come back, sending a silent message to your old friend that you’ll be outside.

Your brother tells Juan, “look after my sister, okay?”

“You got it,” Juan says, wishing the older man another birthday wish before making his way out to you.

The both of you are now walking side by side, enjoying the city’s lights and each other’s company.

“Thanks for coming with me. The longer I sat there getting into it with my mom the faster my brain was telling me to get the fuck out. I figured: let's take a stupid walk for our stupid mental health!"

Juan chuckles at this, “I know what you mean. I also had a disagreement with my sister too before I crashed at yours.”

That revealed just a dash about what led to Juan’s mood last night.

“Yeah?” Your eyes peep to the left of you at the beanie-wearing man, “You want to talk about it?”

It wasn’t much different with what went down with you and yours. Except Juan’s mother was the one to break it up and scold him for defending himself against his sister.

She still felt like he didn’t have himself together (despite the fact that he was now working at a mechanic shop and had a side tech gig at an outlet mall—paid under the table now! If you’re talking about his mental then that was a different story!) either and was the main one who told him not to go out to California. She begged him to stay and that began their estrangement.

His sister blamed him for his own unhappiness and if he would have stayed here maybe he wouldn’t have dealt with that darkness charming brought him.

Which hurt to hear.

He walks even closer to you now as he said, “nah, not really if that’s okay?”

“What?” You lightly bumped his shoulder, “Course it is, just know you can when you want to.”

He gives you a lopsided smile, “Thanks.”

You loop an arm around Juan’s waist, resting your head against his shoulder, as you blended into the city together.

Juan’s dreamed of times like these except you were miles apart but hearts still in sync.

The silence between you two lets you know that you’re both holding onto something so heavy but find that it doesn’t weigh as much when you’re both near each other.

By the time you’re making your way back to your side of town, one subway ride later and more miles to walk back to your place—the night feels like any normal routine.

Eventually the both of you fall into chatter and soft smiles as you continue your rest on the subway, head tucked underneath juice’s chin that his facial hair still pricks your thick hair but you don’t mind.

You’re both laughing about old times when you reach your 1975 raised ranch, half standing on the steps and you’re wiping the tears from the corner of your eyes, “you coming in?”

The last thing Juan wanted to do was head back to his ma’s side of town so a dip of his head was all that you needed, sending him a smile and a nudge of your head to welcome him back inside.

“We gotta eat something although you’re really not supposed to eat after seven…”Juan says to you after kicking off his shoes and heading straight from the main entrance pass the living room right to the kitchen.

“I forgot how much of a health freak you are.” You tease, hanging up your coats in the near by closet.

Juan’s mumbling to himself as he moves around the cut off kitchen, “And you need more fruits and veggies in here. What’s the point of having a juicer and having nothing to use it?”

“My common law sister in law? If you believe in that sort of thing! got it for me. It works as decoration,” You argued, “I can just go buy me a fruit or veggie juice.”

“And be wasteful of this beautiful gift?”

“If you want it, I’ll regift it to you for a belated Christmas gift then.” You sass, going to lean in the archway.

Juan shakes his head while he’s eyeing all the ingredients he’s laid out on the counter, “no point in doing that if I’m just going to be over here majority of the time anyway.”

“Oh is that right?”

“I mean…yeah…if you’re comfortable with that.”

You roll your eyes, “I’ll take you for as long as I can have you, Juanie and you know that.”

He casts a smile over his shoulder at you before waving his hand along formally towards the dining room, “have a seat. This won’t be anything extravagant since your selection of food kinda sucks…we’ll talk about that later but I need my work space clear.”

You saluted, “heard chef,” before you walked into the next room over.

Which leaves you to send off a text to your brother letting him know you both made it safe before choosing to browse social media.

The words of your mother did get into your head as you’re sitting here searching up your two exes and you laugh to yourself at how foolish you were being. You haven’t though about either of those two in a long time, not in the same way you thought about Juan nearly every day.

Yet here you were letting your mother get into your head again: about two men that didn’t hold meaning to your life now.

“Bon appetite.” Juan tells you after awhile, placing the plates down on the table and picking the seat right next to you.

“And what do we call this meal?”

“P.O. In 10. Which stands for: party’s over in ten minutes.”

You both stare at each other and let out a laugh, “how clever.”

A struggle meal of: ground turkey on ranch Doritos topped with cheese and left over black olives with a side of strawberry moscato was your dinner for that night and you didn’t dare complain.

Juan’s gone into one of his rapid conversations of one of his old friends, a guy named chibs that he would have loved for you to meet and of course you find it sweet that he still found someone to speak highly of when he’s vaguely told you that all was not well in charming.

“can i see your hand?" You suddenly ask the man who’s grown out his hair and sported facial hair that made him appear older.

Juan’s finishing off the last of his homemade nacho’s, stuffing his face but doesn’t hesistate as he places his smooth veiny but much larger one into yours, “sure, why?"

You’re tracing the lines of his palm and recall the time the both of you went to a palm reader on senior skip day for shits and giggles although Juan seemed to believe every word the lady said.

He said he had a great tía from Puerto Rico that he met once or twice who was very spiritual but different from a palm reader. His mother got pissed off when she brought her work to the house that one time when she was supposed to be looking after him and his sister.

That soon became Juan’s job.

You wondered about how these hands had to scrap their way through just to survive.

Then you explain, “so i can see how well it fits with mine." Before interlacing your right with his and Juan can’t help but to grin at you.

And there’s that boyish smile that spreads to the corners of his eyes that you can’t resist while he speaks with you, “You’re so cute, you’re corny. If you wanted to makeout, all you had to do was just say so.”

You don’t think about it, “alright, maybe I do.”

“What?! Don’t joke like that.” Juan’s eyes are wide now, ready to slip his hand right from yours.

“I’m not.” You lift your shoulders as Juan sits back in the chair with a sigh.

Juan’s staring at you with a curiosity that makes you want to look away but you can’t.

“What if all we needed was to just be honest with ourselves and look at what’s directly in front of us.”

“…I don’t follow.”

“Us, Juan! I always felt like i was waiting for something, even with the others after Stu and Marlon. There was always this pull and maybe that was you…and if this is all in my head just say that. You can tell me.”

Juan rubs at his face in thought. He already knew how he felt about you and how it never went away.

“No…it’s not all in your head. I don’t know if you know this but…you’ve always been it for me and I—learned to be okay with just being your best friend since that’s what you always wanted from me. I thought moving across the country was the answer but that only hurt us more.”

“Part of me felt like you didn’t care who I was with. You just took it for what it was.”

“You’re so wrong,” Juan scoffed out some laughter, “I just wanted you be happy and not be selfish about wishing it was me that got to do everything with you all the time. They took my space.”

You instantly reply, “Never could.”

“No?”

“No, blockhead.” You lightly grip and shake his shoulders.

“Now we’re down to the insults I see.”

You shrug with a smirk, “Let me kiss you…just to see.”

“See what?” Juan felt his heart hammering in his chest now, “That we’re completely in love with each other? A kiss won’t tell me what I don’t already know, babe.”

A scrunch of your nose is present, “Not you sounding like you don’t want to kiss me—

“What—no—

Sighing you got up from the chair and plopped right down in Juan’s lap, wrapping your arms across his shoulders and staring into his eyes that softened as they settled on your close proximity.

“You smell nice,” he awkwardly says, carefully placing his hands right down on your hip.

You laugh as you move your hands to cup his face, lightly caressing your thumbs over his facial hair, looking at his lips and then back to his eyes before you lean forward to place your lips right on his.

His hands tighten around you but his shoulders seem to relax. Juan can’t hold back the moan in the back of his throat that escapes his parted lips but that doesn’t stop him from kissing you back.

There’s tongue in there somewhere in the mix and the hold the both of you have on each other is enough to erase the miles that were once placed between you.

His hooked nose brushes against yours as you pull back, eyes closed and trying to catch your breath. His forehead rests against yours and Juan has to clear his throat and blink several times in hopes of getting rid of the static that sits in the center of his bottom lip.

“Wow,” he exhales with a grin while you’re playing with the strand of curls at the back of his head.

A satisfied smile is on your face, “What was that shit you were talking?”

“I wasn’t talking shit,” Juan frowns, “I was just saying that my heart already knows what it wants without putting my lips on yours. I loved you the moment your mom forced you to be my friend.”

You shake your head with a smile, “that didn’t take much force, Ortiz. I always thought you could be the one.”

“And…you never said anything why? That would have saved us a lot of time!”

You shrug, “I think our love story is meant to start now.”

“Nope it’s been a W.I.P. but now the progress is actually progressing…”

You squint, “With both of us tasting like Doritos and strawberry wine?”

“If it makes sense to mother universe then who am I to argue with her?”

“At least one of us gets it then.” You kiss his cheek and go to move off his lap but he yanks you right back, burying his face into the crook of your neck.

“Yeah, that maybe love’s always got our back in the end.”

“So…that’s what’s poking me right now?”

Juan feels his face burn, “Sorry—I—couldn’t help it.”

“I could—

“No. Nope. Not yet, let me just hold you and get used to the fact that I get to kiss you from now on. If…we get to labeling each other that is.”

“You want to be mine, Ortiz?”

“Don’t tell me you can’t tell.” He groans pressing his forehead into your shoulder leaving you laughing.

“Only if I get to be yours.”

“Fuck yeah!”

You nuzzle your face against his profile as you hum, “I’ll love you even more for the rest of my life Juan Carlos Ortiz…sounds like a plan?”

And he feels his heart swell at that, knowing that he didn’t have to be alone anymore the longer he had you in his arms.

“Sounds like the best plan, yet. And I love you too, so much.” He gently says into your ear before you turn to him again, capturing his lips once more.

જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩

February fluff anthology series continues here.

#Spotify #queued #SOA #sons of anarchy #juan juice ortiz #juice ortiz #juice ortiz x reader #Juan Carlos Ortiz #Juan Carlos juice Ortiz #theo rossi #February fluff #february prompts

[juicesgf]

Go with it— Juice Ortiz

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

“Shit.” Y/n mumbled and walked faster trying to get away from the man currently following her when she seen a guy who looked to be about her age an idea struck her.

“Baby! I’ve been looking for you.” She smiled walking up to the man and pulling him in for a hug “Please go with it.” She whispered in his ear before pulling away

“Hey!” The man who was following her called out

Instead of answering she cupped the guys face and pulled him in for a kiss. He was shocked for a moment but kissed her back. Neither of them pulled away for a couple minutes, but when she finally did she turned her head to see that the man from earlier was gone.

“You saved me, Thank you.”

“Im Juice.” He replied still trying to collect himself but he couldn’t help the huge smile that formed on his face

“Y/n.”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

I kinda hate this but if you guys have any requests feel free to lmk!

-hails 🧸

#sons of anarchy #juice ortiz #theo rossi #juice ortiz x reader #soa juice #juan carlos juice ortiz #sons of anarchy imagine #soa imagine

[ravennaortiz]

Request

Ohh can you pretty please do a juice one with prompts 17 & 41?? And maybe a little angsty and smutty? Please & thank you!

Prompts

17. I love you

41. How did you get that brusie?

A little angsty and smut for our sweet baby boy Juice? I sure can do that! As Always my stories are 18+. TW: DV,Infidelity

Requested by @mischiefnevermanaged89-blog

Love Rising

Juice isn't sure why he said it. Too be fair he hadn't realized he had spoken those three words out loud. It wasn't until he realized you had frozen, still hovering over his face that he realized he had uttered them. The silence was some how so loud. His grip on your entwined hands tightened, wanting to keep you from running. He was kicking himself mentally for being so stupid. Neither of you were in a position where this could be public.

Your heart was pounding not just from the orgasms Juices skilled mouth had pulled from you but also his words. The implication that what had been quickies and sneaking around had turned into much more. You couldn't deny you too had fallen for him as well. "I love you too" you whispered as you leaned forward pressing your lips to his. Your kiss was cut short by your phone going off. You both glanced at the clock knowing it was Chibs letting you know your old man was on his way home.

*Later that Night*

"How did you get that bruise?" asked Jax glaring at your inner thigh as his fingers traced the darkened area of skin.

"I don't know. You know how clumsy I am" you replied carefully with a small laugh. Jax simply nodded before moving back over you, his mouth finding yours.

You tried not to flinch at his touch. He repulsed you and the relationship between you two had been dead for awhile due to his inability to keep it in his pants. If it had legs, a warm hole and somewhat breathed you could guarantee your Old man had been inside it at least once. Not that you had much room to judge after what you had been doing with Juice.

Jax had been suspicious you were stepping out when you refused him in bed months ago. Little did he know you hadn't yet but him setting his intelligence officer on you had been all the fuel you needed to do so.

You had been so lost in your thoughts that you hadn't realized Jax had stopped kissing your neck. The fury in his eyes told you that Juice hadn't been as careful earlier as he thought. "You fucking whore" growled Jax as he grabbed a fistful of your hair.

***

"Are you okay?" inquired Juice as he knelt next to where you sat on your bed, gun still in your trembling hand. "Is he dead?" you asked your eyes still on Juice but far away. You had no idea how long you and Jax had been fighting for before you had grabbed his gun off the nightstand and blindly fired.

Juice glanced over to Chibs who nodded. "Don't think you missed a single shot Lassie" murmured Chibs as he looked over Jax's bullet hole riddled body. "I'll get this taken care of. Take her home and get her cleaned up and in bed" stated Chibs as he pulled his phone out to start making calls.

Once Chibs was out of the room you chuckled softly. "Guess we don't have to hide anymore" you whispered as Juice grinned and kissed your forehead.

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#sons of anarchy #ravennasmasterlist #juice ortiz #soa fanfiction #soa fanfic #soa #ravennasrequest #juan carlos juice ortiz #imagine juice #juan juice ortiz x reader #juice fanfic #juice fanfiction #juice imagines #juice ortiz drabble #juice ortiz fanfic #juice ortiz fanfiction #juice ortiz fic #juice ortiz imagine #juice ortiz oneshot #juice ortiz x reader #juice ortiz x you #juice x reader #soa juice x reader #fanfiction

[garbinge]

Chalk Drawings

Happy Lowman & Juice Ortiz & Platonic!Reader Jax Teller & Teller!Sister Reader Opie Winston x Teller!Sister Reader

Day 22 from these April Prompts: Chalk Drawings

Summary: When Happy and Juice are on protection duty and the AC is broken you and the kids take to the outside to escape the sweaty prison that’s Jax’s house as you wait for your brother and partner to come home. 

Words: 1.9k 

A/N: I’ve been having a rough couple of days so I’m not really sure what this is but, I hope you all enjoy! lol.

Warnings: pretty fluffy (for me and my writing lol), reader has a daughter with Opie (no name given), no use of Y/N, slight angst/tension, alludes to death/murder slightly, nothing that’s not canon-level. 

SOA Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics​

It was a beautiful summer afternoon, the sun was shining, there were fluffy clouds in the sky that were shaped like cotton candy. The only downside was that the California heat had no mercy and apparently neither did Jax’s air conditioner. It had broken early in the morning and by the afternoon the whole place felt like a sauna. Fans and open windows did nothing against the real feel of 93 degrees and there were only so many popsicles you willingly wanted to give to all the kids. This is what brought you outside on the driveway that had been covered by shade all day so it was luckily not burning hot. You had the full Winston x Teller group today, Kenny, Ellie, Abel, and your 3 year old daughter with Opie. The club was in partial lockdown due to business with the Cartel. Partial lockdown usually just meant no one was left alone, everyone who was someone had protection on them, which meant it was easier for people to stay in groups. Hence why you had all the kids right now. Gemma was out with Tara grocery shopping for the house and had taken Tig with them just to keep a close eye. This left you with Juice and Happy while Jax and Opie went on a run together with a few of the other guys. 

The sprinkler was going on the grass, something for the kids to run through if they got too hot, but currently the group of them were on the driveway drawing with chalk. Abel and Kenny had paired up leaving your daughter to rest in between your legs with a piece of chalk in her hands while Ellie sat to your left doing the same. You started doodling with one of the pieces of chalk that was scattered along the driveway to pass the time as well while Happy and Juice leaned against their bikes, keeping watch all of you. 

“You wanna get your hands dirty?” You held up the pink piece of chalk and called out to the two bikers. 

Juice was quick to smile but deny the request, his way of trying to look tough. You clocked it immediately because just yesterday he was eating a spongebob popsicle off the ice cream truck when he was the only one on your watch detail. 

“Yes I do.” Happy said instantly and eagerly as he pushed off his bike. He was quick to grab the chalk from you and begin doodling on the pavement. You thought you’d be shocked at his instant agreement to join you on the ground with the pastel art tools but surprisingly, it was exactly what you expected. Happy knelt on the pavement, one knee touching the ground while the other was being used as an armrest for the arm that wasn’t creating a chalk masterpiece. 

“C’mon Juice.”  You nodded your head to wave him over. 

“Yea, c’mon Juice!” Your daughter called out with a smile. 

You smirked at that and so did Juice as he walked over to you both. The little girl in your lap holding out the pink piece of chalk up to the biker. 

“Thanks,” His smirk not falling as he grabbed the chalk from the girl. 

“S’my favorite color.” She beamed at you and said the color’s name to show how smart she was. “Pink.” 

“It’s Juice’s too.” You teased and patted to the free space next to you as he shook his head and blushed. “Show me what you got, Juicy.” 

He started drawing stick figures, graffiti words, tribal drawings like his tattoos. 

“Can you draw me a flower?” Your daughter was quick to crawl out of your lap and sit in front of Juice. 

“I can try.” He began to try and draw some version of a flower, although it was looking more like a blob. 

“That’s not very good.” She tilted her head and frowned at it. 

You called out your daughters name, a warning to be nice although it didn’t do much. 

“Why does your hair look like that.” She asked as she drew over Juice’s flower creating her own masterpiece. 

Juice practically spit out the sip of water he just took at the girl’s question. 

“Why don’t you go see what Abel and Kenny are drawing, huh? Go ask Happy your questions.” You interrupted to give Juice a break. The girl shrugged and skipped her way over to the other group on the driveway. You knew Happy could handle the questions and would give them right back which entertained her. 

“Can you teach me how to draw that?” You heard her voice behind you as she stood over Happy’s shoulders. 

“I sure can.” He nodded and handed her the yellow piece of chalk before the sounds of the chalk hitting the pavement filled the air.

“Mommy look!” She called out and you turned to see the tons of smiley faces drawn on the ground, some smiling, some crying, some grinning. Your eyes jumped to Happy and back to the drawings a few times. No one came out and told you what Happy’s name meant, but being a Teller you had been around the clubhouse enough to see Happy hit the ring which meant seeing the array of smiley tats across his lower abdomen. It didn’t take a genius to put it together. 

You weren’t sure if you wanted to laugh or be mortified, the kids had no idea what it meant but there was a part of you that felt like there was something eerie about it. 

“Nice drawings.” Your eyebrows raised at him with a smirk as your nostrils flared. 

Happy smiled, oblivious to your sarcasm and nodded.

The sound of motorcycle engines filled the air, but there was no sign of who it was yet. Happy and Juice quick to stand up, Happy picking up your young daughter while you got up as well. He handed the girl to you before walking to the end of the driveway with Juice. As you situated the girl in your arms you began to walk near the garage door and called the rest of the kids over to you. There was a pit in your stomach, you grabbed your nephew and placed him behind you and told Kenny and Ellie to do the same as you guided them as well, using yourself as a human shield to them as you typed in the code to the garage door. 

The bikes got closer and as the sound got louder so did your thumping heart. The garage door was taking its sweet time to open, you tried your best to keep your wits about you as to not scare the kids but it was hard when Happy and Juice were reaching for there pieces. 

“Let’s play a game!” Your head snapped to the kids as the garage door opened. “Go inside and we’ll play hide-n-seek! Only rule is you MUST stay in the house. You hide and I’ll find you!” 

The kids giggled and immediately ran inside the house, your daughter wasn’t eager to leave your arms to play so you kept her in your grip, her head rested on your shoulder which soon dropped in relief as you saw the reaper on the bikes that were approaching. You recognized both bikes, your brother and Opie’s. A breath you didn’t realize you had been holding in let out and you closed your eyes in reassurance. 

Happy and Juice fell back quickly too, their relief looking a little different than your own. As both men pulled up to the curb and backed their bikes up, you started to walk down the driveway. Opie walked over to Happy and Juice likely to fill in the crew on what had just happened while Jax walked up to you. 

“You look like you just saw a ghost.” His long blond hair blew in the hot heat as his smirk grew. 

“I thought I was about to become one.” The only reason you let the joke out was because within the few minutes of your daughter being in your arms she had fallen asleep. 

He frowned and picked his hand up to tuck your daughters hair behind her ear. 

“I’ve been on edge, heard the bikes.” You shook your head and looked down. 

“We figured it all out, we’re fine, you’re safe.” His eyes jumped from yours to the girl in your arms, “all of you.” 

Jax’s eyes looked down at the concrete to see the chalk drawings on the ground, clocking the smiley faces immediately and let out a chuckle. 

“Really, Hap?” Jax called out to the man who smiled and nodded. 

At this point, Opie was walking over, his tall body standing over you in seconds as he placed a kiss on your head. 

“Hey, you okay?” His brows furrowed picking up on your tension. 

“We spooked her.” Jax teased you as he pinched your elbow. 

Opie’s eyes moved back to yours looking for confirmation. 

“I’m fine.” You argued and looked up to Opie who smiled knowing that the sibling rivalry was coming through in your short worded sentence. 

“Where the kids?” He asked still smiling. 

“Inside, I told them we’re playing hide-n-seek if you want to go find them.” You knew both men would pick up on the fact you told them to hide and probably why but before either of them could get to the bottom of why you were so on edge besides the obvious, your daughter was stirring awake. 

“Look who's here.” You whispered to her as she sat up in your arms and you turned so she could see her father. 

“Hi Daddy.” Her voice was still half asleep. 

“Hi baby.” Opie’s arms extended out so he could grab her. “I drew smileys with Happy.” She rested her head against his shoulder in an attempt to go back to sleep. Opie looked down at the pavement and then back to you. 

“She also asked Juice about his haircut.” You crossed your arms. 

“It looks funny.” She said still at a mumble causing Opie and Jax to laugh. 

“I think it does too.” Jax started to walk inside the house. “Ready or not, here I come!” He called out but you knew he was going to grab a drink and a snack from the kitchen before he started to look for the kids. 

“I guess next time we’ll keep Hap with us.” Opie teased as you both started to walk inside while the sound of Juice and Happy’s bikes started. You turned to wave goodbye to both of them before looking back at Opie as you made your way into the garage. 

“Nah, he might be insane but he’s good with the kids and having him around actually puts me at ease.” 

“If this is you at ease, I’d hate to see you tense.” Opie teased you again as the garage door closed. 

“Why don’t you and this jelly bean here go look for the kids.” Your arms still crossed as your eyes rolled. 

“You wanna go find Abel, Ellie, and Kenny?” Opie bounced up and down to wake up his daughter. “I’ll give you a popsicle if you find them all.” His voice raised as he incentivized the girl who was suddenly wide awake. 

“Let’s go!!!” She kicked as he placed her down and she hit the ground running. “C’mon Mom, let’s go!!!” She called out to you. 

Opie smirked and threw his arm around you, “yea, let’s go.” 

#SOA #SOA Fanfic #SOA fanfiction #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy fanfiction #sons of anarchy fanfic #happy lowman #juice ortiz #Juan Carlos Ortiz #Jax Teller #opie winston #happy lowman x reader #juice ortiz x reader #Jax teller x sister #opie winston x reader #opie winston x teller sister #opie winston x teller sister reader #teller sister #teller sister reader

[drakoneve]

Destined Meetings

request: Hey, do you think you could write something where the reader is related to tig somehow, and they're in charming for work or college and they start a relationship with juice? Cute and a little angsty at first?

pairing: Juice Ortiz x Trager!Reader

word count: 1.9k

warnings: club crimes, reader's mom isn't the best + suggested childhood trauma, alcohol and drug (maryj) use

a/n: there will be another part for sure, but i might make this a bit of a mini-series, lmk what you think. happy reading!

Tig hardly ever talked about it, but he'd been married once. He would rather die than ever admit he loved anyone but Dawn and Fawn, but he loved her. And you, his sweet, sweet Y/n.

His heart clenched at the thought of you. You were only two years old at the time of the accident. The day your mother decided she had had enough of Tig and the life he came with and that she needed to run.

It was that day, when your mother pulled out of Charming and never looked back. She only made it two towns over before she took a reckless turn right off an overpass into oncoming traffic.

Tig could remember the look on Unser's face as he approached the older man in the TM parking lot like yesterday, and how he wished he could go back and convince your mom not to go. Or to leave you, at least.

Unser had just began working with the club back then, and this case in particular had always stuck with him. A woman trying to escape her outlaw husband with their baby daughter who ends up getting into a horrific accident that ends up killing them both? One of the saddest stories Unser had ever heard.

Except for the fact none of it was true.

Because there you stood, alive and well, right in front of the Chief's desk.

"I know it sounds crazy," you shake your head, hopeful look on your face. "I wouldn't believe it either, actually. And I don't really have any proof other than my memories, but I'm sure it's him."

The aging polaroid in you had provided him of a much younger Tig and a woman he recognizes to be your mother back when she was pregnant with you.

"No, no," he waves your worries away. "I believe you. In fact, I remember your mother, vaguely, and you look a lot like her."

You grimace. "Yeah, I've been told a few times. So do you know where I can find Alexander?"

Chief Unser pulls a pen from his shirt pocket and begins writing on a slip of paper on his desk. "This is the address of the Teller-Morrow, the automotive shop your dad works at. I would take you there myself, but I'm swamped here."

"Oh, it's no issue," you shrug and take the slip of paper. "I can get there myself. Thank you for everything, though."

You turn and begin to leave when Unser calls for you to stop.

"I forgot to mention, your dad goes by 'Tig.'"

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ 

Juice stretched out his arms and popped his neck while he wiped his hands with a rag. Two weeks of waiting for one part was finally over, and he could get this damn Taurus out of the shop. He tossed the rag into his toolbox when a sleek black car comes rumbling into the lot.

He leaves the garage to get a closer look and notices the car is actually a classic, a well taken care of (or well restored) '69 Chevy. While he admires the car he notices you, too.

Your hair is partly clipped back, with enough loose enough to frame your face in a casual look. You're pretty, and admittedly he'd be more distracted by you but Juice can tell by the look on your face you're nervous. Juice would know, it's a look he's had to learn to hide.

By sight and sound nothing seemed to be wrong with your car, and Juice can't help but wonder why you're here.

You shut the engine off and exit your vehicle, all the while silently composing yourself. Heart thudding in your chest, you wonder if you're doing the right thing.

Juice takes the moment you shut the door to approach further.

"Hello," he greets politely, friendly smile on his face. "I'm Juice, and I'll be taking care of you today. What seems to be the problem?"

"Oh, no," you shake your head and laugh nervously. "Nothing's wrong with her. I'm actually-"

You pause, close your eyes for a second and bite the inside of your bottom lip. Juice can't help but watch you fondly, finding you oddly adorable.

Finally you open your eyes and flash a bright, genuine smile.

Damn, I'm made, he thinks.

"This is gonna sound completely insane," you explain, nervously clasping your hands together. "But, um, I'm looking for Alexa- well, no, Tig, Tig Trager."

Juice raises his brows. "Tig? Uh, I don't know if now's the best time."

It's true, he's currently in Oakland with Jax and Chibs on quick business.

"Look, I know it's inconvenient and you don't know me," you plead. You're closer now and Juice can smell your sweet perfume and practically feel your hopefulness. "But until a couple months ago I had no idea my dad was even alive. And then I found out I was here for weeks before realizing he's here, too."

Your dad? There has to be a story there. Juice raises his hands to either side of your arms, holding you still in hopes to assure you.

"It's okay," he says sternly, but in an endearing way. "Tig's not here right now but he should be soon, so let's head on inside and you can tell me a little bit about you. Just to be sure, no offense."

You smile, relieved to be believed to some extent rather than none. "Thank you, Juice. Thank you."

Juice leads you into the Teller-Morrow through the garage entrance into the larger building. From what you could see on the outside you wouldn't have imagined such a spacious clubhouse inside.

Inside were several pool tables, a couch with mini pieces about, a bar with stools, and other tables each with their own set of chairs. Decorations littered the walls and floors and you laughed to yourself as you noted a nearly full ashtray on almost every surface and a wall completely dedicated to mugshots.

Juice leads you to the bar where he gestures for you to sit as he makes his way around. You slip onto a stool and watch patiently as Juice finds two glasses and turns to you.

"What's your preference?"

You shrug, "Whatever, I'm not partial. On the rocks, though."

He serves you and pours his own drink before setting the bottle down and leaning on the bar on his elbows in front of you.

"So tell me about you," Juice presses softly. He can tell by your fingers circling the rim of your glass that you're not excited for this conversation but he has no choice. "You said you've been here for a few weeks, where'd you live before?"

"Nevada, mostly," you tell him before sipping on your drink. "My mother moved us around a couple times and we lived in Colorado for a while before eventually settling in Sparks."

"Why'd you guys move around?"

You drain the rest of your drink quickly in hopes it'll support you through this conversation. Juice begins to refill your glass without being asked.

"I didn't know it then, but my mom was running from the Sons," you confess.

Juice's eyes widen slightly as he looked you over. What could you know about the club? They were notorious around Charming sure, but with their recent run ins with the ATF has the club struggling and making choices they wouldn't normally make.

You continue, "It wasn't until I graduated high school and I left that she told me my dad was actually alive. Then she told me about the Sons of Anarchy, and everything else I did on my own."

Juice nods, unsure of what to say. He nurses his drink for a moment before reaching for your hand.

"This life is complicated, but we're a family here."

The gesture, simple as it is, riles up all the pent up feelings you've mastered all your life comes rushing forward as tears brim your eyes.

"Family," you repeat and pull your hand from Juice to wipe your tears. "What a weird concept?"

The two of you talk well into the evening and you end up migrating to the couch with a bottle and a large bowl of buttery popcorn. Juice made good company. He's genuine, gunny, and from the way he talks you can tell the Sons are something special to him.

He tells you about himself in turn for the vulnerable information you've given him. You learn he was born and raised in New York before coming to Charming, and he has a little sister behind in the city. Juice tells you he works in the TM garage alongside what he does for the club.

"I'm not stupid," you tell him once you notice his hesitance. "It's not hard to find information on the club from the locals around here."

He chuckles softly, "Yeah, I'm sure. If you have any questions, you can ask me."

Before you can the rumbling of bikes coming into the TM parking lot distracts you. Instinctively you grabbed Juice's hand, but let go just as fast as you'd grabbed him. Luckily before he can say anything the door bursts open and income more Sons.

The first is a younger blond man with piercing blue eyes and you notice the President patch on his left. He greets Juice happily before his eyes look to you, and he looks confused but seemingly brushes it off and goes to the bar.

Your dad walks in near arm in arm with another handsome man with scarred cheeks, obviously older than he is in the polaroid you own, but otherwise he seems the same. Its as if he can feel your gaze as he turns to meet his blue eyes to your own.

You stand, trying to ignore the thumping of your heart in your chest. "Hi, Tig," you greet, silently cursing the waver in your voice. Immediately the polaroid is out of your back pocket and in your hand. "My name's Y/n, and my mom's Y/m/n."

He takes the polaroid from you without a word and holds it carefully in his hands. His friend has stepped away towards Juice, likely for questioning.

"I saw Unser earlier today," you continue on. "He told me that I have a grave here in Charming, so does mom. Funny, considering she always told me you were the dead one."

You take a shaky breath in, trying to keep from bursting into tears. "I just... I wanted you to know I'm not dead, very much alive. I don't, like, expect anything from you I just knew I had to say something."

Tig finally breaks away from the polaroid to meet your eyes again, and it makes you feel a bit better to see his blue eyes are as tear filled as your own.

He raises one hand to cup your cheek, thumb moving to wipe your tears. "Losing you was the worst pain of my life," he admits softly.

His words crumble your resolve, the walls you'd spent your adolescence building to protect yourself fell faster than they were constructed. You practically fall into his arms, and the two of you break down as you hold each other.

As you sob into Tig's chest he merely cradles you the way he wishes he'd been able to all these years. The way he deserved to have been there for you. He holds you tight against him like he's afraid you'll dissipate and it'll be decades before he sees you again.

"We're gonna be okay, baby," he tells you. "We're gonna be okay."

This time, he's not going to be letting you go so easy.

#juice ortiz x reader #juice x reader #juice ortiz x you #juice ortiz x trager!reader #juice ortiz x y/n #soa juice x reader #soa juice ortiz x reader #juice ortiz imagine #juan carlos ortiz x reader #juan carlos x reader #juan carlos ortiz x you #soa x you #soa x reader #sons of anarchy x reader #sons of anarchy imagine #sons of anarchy fanfiction #tig trager imagine #dad!tig trager x daughter!reader #fluff #juice x reader angst #juice x reader fluff #soa juice x you #soa juice x y/n #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy x y/n #soa x y/n #sons of anarchy angst fic #sons of anarchy fluff #sons of anarchy au

[sebaria]

#sons of anarchy #SOA chibs #chibs telford #Tommy Flanagan #soa tig #tig trager #Alex Trager #filip telford #soa juice #juice ortiz #Juan Carlos Ortiz #theo rossi #Jax Teller #soa jax #my gifs #soa gif #kim coates #Charlie Hunnam

[narcolini]

good boy

juice ortiz x gn!reader, 3639 words, 18+

mild nsfw, praise kink (juice), hot n heavy etc, the title says it all

a/n: based on a post ive lost about men being called good boys and therefore dedicated to @drabbles-mc​ because we terrorised ourselves about it being juicy and then here we are. the result! (im not sure who to tag bc this is new territory, but @cositapreciosa​ and @hausofmamadas​ ik u love jc <3)

You don’t get approached in bars. You never, get approached in bars. Not alone, not in groups, not when you’re tagging along with Jen and Tunde for the thirtieth miserable time this year. Something about your expression, you think. How you look when you aren’t thinking at all. It happens so infrequently, actually, that you don’t even realising it’s happening this time. You assume that he, the guy, this dude—navy hoody, black jeans, muscles you can see despite it all— who’s lingering by your shoulder, is just waiting to order. Hovering until he can grab a drink. Or looking for missing friends, or even just—

‘Sorry, I can tuck in if you need to get past.’

‘No, no, I wasn’t,’ he answers, stumbling slightly over the words, ‘I’m not.’ He pauses, breathes. ‘I was trying to speak to you, actually.’

You blank. ‘To me?’

He nods. ‘Probably should’ve said something, instead of just standing here, I know.’

Probably should’ve picked someone else entirely, really. You aren’t making it any easier for him. You can’t even think of something to say while he stands there looking at you, waiting for you to speak.

‘I’m Juice,’ he says, thank God.

So you smile, replying with your name in turn, and add, ‘Here to buy me a drink?’

He scoffs, giving a head shake—a lie—that winds into a nod—the truth—and a smile. Cute. Honest of him. ‘If you want,’ he says, ‘then, yeah.’

‘This one’s fresh,’ you explain, hovering the bottle in front of you briefly, ‘sorry.’ You almost feel bad about that. Poor thing is one bad interaction away from a full-body shutdown by the looks of it.

It doesn’t deter him though, surprisingly. He gestures to the stool beside you. ‘That mean I can’t sit?’

‘No.’ He’s polite, interested but not pushy. He isn’t even touching the seat yet. Just standing a respectable distance away, showing you his dimples, looking you in the eye. As far as men in bars go, he’s doing well. ‘Go ahead,’ you tell him, making an effort to sound warm, inviting. You know how you come across at first. ‘I’ll never say no to good conversation.’

‘God,’ he laughs, ‘no pressure though, right?’

You smile. ‘None at all.’ He’s no idea what he’s saving you from. He could sit and babble for another twenty minutes and it’d still be more interesting than the conversation your friends have been having.

Juice sits beside you, rocking the stool slightly, before flagging the barman down to order his own beer. You watch him take out his wallet—leather, scuffed—then a fold of notes from inside it. Watch him flick through them before selecting a twenty and passing it to the guy.

‘For this, and the next one,’ he explains, pointing to your half-empty drink.

‘Thanks.’ You nod to acknowledge it. ‘You’re sweet.’

He glows, but shakes away the compliment and tries to hide his blush by taking a drink as soon as the bottle’s put in front of him. You do him the mercy of looking away, to Jen and Tunde on your right, while he recovers.

You’re just checking they’re still there, of course, still keeping you company, still in love, still lost in conversation like they’re the only pair in the room. Why you even agree to hang out as a group anymore, you don’t know. The whole dynamic of it has been thrown off balance since they got together, though you expected as much. Encouraged it, really. Shit was a long time coming. Still, they could try to remember you’re here as well, spare you a thought, at least. Change the topic from last nights mini-golf date to something you could actually contribute to, maybe.

When you look back to Juice, he’s waiting with a question brewing behind his lips. You raise a brow to encourage him. Please, anything, say some words, make some jokes, save me.

‘Are you…’ he hesitates, flicking his finger between you and the two on the other side, ‘with them?’

You snort. ‘In a throuple way? Or a third wheel way?’

He nods, answering neither question, but you assume he means the latter and sigh. Deflate. Hide your embarrassment with a caricature of yourself.  

‘Is it that obvious?’

‘Well,’ he draws out the word, smile cracking onto his features. ‘I didn’t want to say it but, yeah.’ He laughs. ‘You did look pretty lonely over here, in a third wheel kind of way.’

‘Oh, great.’ You stare ahead and take another swig from your beer. ‘Nice to know my resting bitch face is actually more of a resting desperately-sad face.’

He laughs again and puts his hands up like he’s innocent. The, you said it not me, type of innocence. ‘Just wanted to offer you some company, that’s all,’ he says, before putting his forearms onto the bar and leaning over them. Toward you, almost. Close enough to not have to raise his voice to be heard anymore. He gives you a smile—a sheepish smile, a cute one—like he’s in on something and—

Again. Fuck. That’s twice now. Cute and cute. He’s bringing something out of you, hot-wiring your brain with the round of his cheeks.

‘Bit of a chronic third wheel myself actually,’ he admits.

Hard to believe. His mannerisms alone makes him the most eligible bachelor in the room. Yours ward off suitors like a fairy-tale villain, cursed to brood alone in your castle.

‘Well, solidarity.’ You clink your bottle to the one standing in front of him. ‘And I’ll take the company, thank-you. Will never say no to being the centre of attention.’

You smirk and he returns it, but in a sweeter way, shy again. Is it nerves? Maybe it is nerves, and your fault at that. Or maybe he’s really, earnestly, bad at this, at picking people up in bars. Flirting with no pretences. From the look of him, you would’ve assumed he did this regularly. Often enough to be cocky about it, at least, because, come on, he’s got tattoos on the side of his skull and a mohawk shaved down to an inch. Muscles visible through the cotton of his hoody. He doesn’t look like the sort to be nervous about anything, let alone smooth-talking.

‘You want to get a round of pool?’ he asks, looking over his shoulder. ‘Table’s empty.’

‘Sure.’ No harm in that. It’s certainly more fun than sitting here, listening to Tunde discuss his—wait, yep—his dream wedding again. ‘Let me just, yeah,’ you look from Juice to catch Jen’s eye and explain to her, ‘I’m gonna go school this guy at pool. I’ll be back in a bit.’

She nods, then gives an approving thumbs up that Juice definitely saw, because subtlety has never been her thing, before you turn and follow him toward the table in the corner.

‘Fighting talk,’ he comments as you go, ‘I like it.’

‘Please.’ You touch his shoulder briefly. ‘It’s only fighting talk if I’m exaggerating.’

——————

It takes a few turns for him to believe you. You’ve just potted another ball, the second in a row now, and he’s yet to pocket his first. Painful, yes, but he’s taking it well.

‘Okay,’ he announces, rubbing his brow, ‘so, you’re actually pretty good at this.’

‘Don’t sound so surprised,’ you scold, rounding the corner to line up your next shot. ‘I played in college.’

‘I can tell,’ he says, and he’s impressed by it. Not emasculated, or however the fuck other men might react, but genuinely impressed. Charmed, even. If you’re reading him right. ‘I should’ve picked a different game.’

‘Why? Were you hoping I’d lose and make you feel good about yourself?’

He smiles; it reaches the edges of his eyes. ‘Something like that.’

You’re about to take the next shot, but pause instead, bent over the table still. Just like they do in the movies, right? If he wants to play, then let’s play. You know how you look, you know what he’s seeing. You raise your gaze from the cue ball to him. ‘How about,’ you start, ‘I win, you pay my tab. You win, I pay yours.’

A nervous laugh bubbles out of him. ‘I don’t have a tab,’ he says. Which isn’t a no. And he’s smiling, which is the opposite of no, really.

‘Then you better make one, Juice.’ You strike, balls scattering across the green. ‘Or don’t, cause you’ll be paying mine anyway.’

——————

The game talk works, again, because he improves after that. He’s better, not as good as you, but not embarrassing himself with missed-shots anymore. For a little while—somewhere between the rematch, and the rematch of the rematch—you think that maybe he’ll even dark-horse you and win in the last minute, leaving you to pay for the extra beers he’s powered through.  

But then he pots the black. In the last game, the one you’re playing to really, concretely, finalise the tournament, he pots black. Loses not because you won, but because he was dumb enough to mistake the final ball for his next one. Tragic. Truly.

He collapses once he realises, forehead to the tabletop, and stays there long enough that you’re almost tempted to feel sorry for him. Then you remember yourself, and the tab he’s about to clear for you.

‘Aw,’ you say sarcastically, fake-pouting and all, ‘I’m assuming you didn’t mean to do that?’

He drags himself upright, recovering quick enough to quip, ‘No, yeah, totally wanted to do that. Thought you deserved the win.’

‘Oh really?’

‘I’m being a gentleman,’ he lies, walking the length of the table to stand beside you. He leans against it once he’s there, thighs to the edge, palms stacked on the end of his cue. ‘So, you know, a thank-you would be nice.’

You snort and take the stick from him to stand it with yours. ‘After you pay up,’ you shrug, ‘sure.’

His eyes roll and his head goes with them, but he nods afterwards and pulls his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans.

‘Good boy.’

He meets your gaze, eyes alight, attentive—not the reaction you’d expected, because he’d lost and you were mocking him for it. But he seems unfazed, keen even.

‘I’ll be right back,’ he says.

When he is, tab paid and accounted for, you greet him with the promised, ‘Thank-you, angel.’

And there’s that glisten again, that brightness in his eyes. Now he’s closer, you can see his chest rise too, his breath quickening slightly. He likes it. Oh, he likes it. The praise, the reward, that’s what it is. And you like that he likes it, that’s what that is. Cute, like you’d thought before, playable.

He leans toward you before you’ve decided what to do with it all; his hand on your waist, his mouth angled for yours. Keen. Sweet about it. His eyes are closed already so you let him get a kiss in before slowing things down again. It’s just a peck, really, soft and short.

‘Mmm.’ You push him back, two fingertips to the ridge of his collarbone. ‘I have a thing about PDA,’ you tell him. Specifically, PDA that involves your friends watching you kiss a guy you barely know, against the beer-stained pool table of your local bar. If they weren’t there, you probably would’ve let him. In the bathroom cubicle, you definitely would’ve let him.

‘Yeah, course, whatever.’ He nods quickly, stepping away and adjusting his hoody for no reason at all. Nerves, again. ‘I didn’t mean to, y’know. I’m cool with—’

‘Relax,’ you interrupt before he talks himself into any more distress. ‘I said I have a thing about PDA, not you. You’re good, Juice. I like you.’

The smirk is back, the dimples teetering. ‘Yeah?’

‘Yeah,’ you start for the bar, talking over your shoulder, ‘let me get my jacket.’

——————

You’ve come home with him, or rather, he’s come home with you—and if only he knew what a victory that was. You don’t bring anyone back here. Not before you know them. But there he is, harmless, you’re sure, and lingering in the hallway like he’s surprised to have made it this far himself. Too polite to even take his jacket off.

Maybe he does know, then, maybe he can feel the win and doesn’t know what to do with it yet.

‘You got this place to yourself?’ he asks, hands in his pockets, gaze on the walls. Like the photo frames are that interesting.

‘Yep, dead aunt. Lucky me.’ Both of you know twenty-somethings don’t land apartments like this from hard work alone, but you aren’t here to talk about real estate. There’s no need for pretence or small talk, as far as you’re concerned, everyone knows where it goes from here. You shrug out of your coat and take your shoes off—toes pushing heels—then dump the lot exactly where they always get dumped. ‘You can get comfortable, y’know. I’m not gonna turf you out any time soon.’

You pass him a look which sends him into motion, unlike your words had. Then his jacket comes off, his hoody’s unzipped, grey tee exposed. His boots are un-done and put beside yours with more discipline than you can ever be bothered with—which you figure is manners over habit—and then he’s back to standing and looking around like it’s an art gallery, not a fucking hook up spot.

‘You don’t do this a lot, do you?’ you ask, because you’re starting to worry this is his first one night stand ever and you really aren’t prepared for that. Maybe at some point, yeah, maybe for him, once you know him, but not tonight. Not now.

‘Well,’ it snakes out of him, ‘not a lot. But, y’know, a normal amount.’

Your brow raises. ‘A normal amount?’

He flushes, unable to find and answer—which is fine, because you hadn’t expected one. A normal amount. Sure, Juice.

‘I’ve got beer in the fridge?’

He nods. ‘Thanks.’

So, you'll start with a beer. Hopefully it strips the stiffness from his shoulders and sends it somewhere useful.

‘The name,’ you call from the kitchen, ‘is that because you’re sweet?’

His laugh is quiet in the other room. He’s sitting now, you hope, grabbing a spot on the couch while you aren’t there to make him nervous. ‘Something like that,’ he answers. ‘The guys had a problem with Juan.’

You frown, popping the caps off two beers. ‘The guys?’

He doesn’t answer, so you grab the bottles and chase the question back to him. ‘Juan isn’t exactly hard to say.’

‘Nah,’ he scoffs, ‘but it isn’t exactly MC cool, either.’

You’re glad to see him settled, sitting on the right side of the couch with one arm slung across the back of it. He looks comfortable, finally, like he’s been here before. You sit beside him and pass him his drink, cradling your own in your lap.

‘And Juice is super cool,’ you taunt.

‘Touché.’

You smirk, talking over the neck of the beer before taking a sip, ‘And don’t think we aren’t going to circle back to you being in a motorcycle club, man.’ You scoff. Swallow. ‘Did not see that coming.’

He drinks before answering and you think, for the first time, that you might’ve genuinely hurt his ego with that one. ‘Am I really that pathetic looking?’ he asks, attempting to laugh through it. ‘I get all these tattoos for nothing?’

You tilt your head, consider him again. You never said that. ‘Kindness isn’t pathetic,’ you tell him. ‘I just know MCs aren’t all good like they say they are.’

‘And you think I am?’

Another shift and your head’s against his arm, cheekbone to bicep. ‘I think you can be.’

An exhale—his—heavy and long enough to reach your face. It’s warm, beer and mint.

‘I think you want to be,’ you admit.

His eyes are glued to yours, gleaming again. All he can manage in return is, ‘Yeah?’

Yeah.

And then you’re kissing, you to him this time. Your hand to his jaw, beer necks clinking together somewhere between you both, and he’s responding like you’d told him how to beforehand. Exactly as you like it. Pliant. Restrained. His tongue tucked back, his teeth grazing. The perfect compromise. You pull away long enough to take his bottle from him and leave it, abandoned, with yours on the coffee table, then you’re at him again. Hands and lips and teeth. How could you ever think that this was his first time? Now he’s relaxed into it, it’s obvious. It’s in the taste of him.

‘Normal amount,’ you breathe, putting it into his mouth, all heat and disbelief. ‘And you kiss like that?’

There’s a noise from his throat, one that escaped before he could attempt a real answer. A low moan in place of a question. Is that a good thing, you imagine he’d say, do you like it?

‘So good,’ you tell him. ‘Again, like that.’

He does. He complies. Pants a little faster at the compliment, pushing his chest toward yours and his hand to the soft where your stomach meets your jeans, but he kisses you again, just like before. Eager and wanting. So, you melt with it—put your hips forward before he can start at the button—and melt with it.

‘How do you do that?’ you ask, sitting over his lap now, mouth to his neck. ‘Hm?’

He pulls away, or pushes you back, to look at the fastening; rough fingertips over brass, then zipper, then flesh. His buzzed hair brushes your cheek as he looks up again. ‘Do what?’ Brows pinched. ‘Is this okay?’

A nod, yes, yes, your questions first. ‘Know exactly what I want, before I want it,’ you answer. ‘Before I ask for it.’ You put his hand to your underwear and feel him stiffen beneath, abs clenched so tight he can barely breathe. ‘You in my head or something, Juice?’

There’s that blush again, that heat across his cheeks that you can see, colour or no colour—dim light of the bar, orange glow of your living room—and the same shy smile from before. You watch him dip his chin to try and hide it all.

‘I guess I’ve got you figured out,’ he offers.

It’s a fishing rod of a statement, posed and anxious for the bite.

You hum. ‘Maybe you have.’

But his hand hasn’t moved still. It’s resting between cotton and skin, waiting for the cue, waiting for the reward. You’re understanding each other mutually, now.

‘How long have you had a praise kink?’ you ask, because it comes into your head and your restraint’s at the bar still, slung over the pool table. ‘A while, or…?’

He laughs in response, a burst of noise that throws his head back over the couch momentarily. ‘What?’ The smile’s creasing by his eyes. ‘Where’d that come from?’

You wait. It wasn’t a joke. He can laugh, but it won’t make you retract the question, or lie like you haven’t seen right through the core of him. ‘I’m just wondering if anyone’s ever played into it before.’

‘I—look.’ His hand comes free—you miss the warmth immediately—to re-adjust the crotch of his jeans and then tuck behind his head. Scratching. ‘I wasn’t trying to lead you into anything, y’know, different.’

‘My God.’ Your eyes roll. ‘I don’t need to ask where it comes from, do I?’

Apology, apology, sorry, sorry, we don’t have to, I didn’t mean to.

‘Relax,’ you insist, leaning on his shoulders. ‘It’s my bad for asking stupid questions at the wrong time. You haven’t done anything wrong.’

He sighs. Sinks into the cushions with you on top.

‘And I didn’t say I wasn’t into it.’

The corner of his lip tweaks.

‘But if now’s not the time,’ you continue, ‘this pizza place round the block has the meanest—’

You’re interrupted with a kiss, fast and hot and messy. Teeth to teeth, but you don’t mind. It only takes a moment to recover and it’s so unlike the last few, that you feel your stomach dropping with it—dipping, spinning, swallowing itself whole. Heartbeat darting into the base of your throat. Oh, you think, there we go. Both feet onto the court now.

‘Bedroom,’ you say, against his bottom lip. Between the kiss. Into it.

‘Nah.’ His palms find the back of your thighs, just above the knee, as he puts you back, turning you onto the spread of cushions beside you. ‘Here.’

‘Wow.’ You laugh, too twisted and hot where it matters to really care where you go. ‘Okay.’

You can feel him laughing, almost, in return, feel the lift of a smile in the next few kisses he plants on your skin. Your throat, your jaw. God. He knows to shut you up, that’s what it is. Knows any more chances to talk, you’ll take, even though what you really want is, oh, what you really want is—

‘God, you’re good.’

‘Yeah?’ He lifts from your collarbone, from the bite he’s left above it. When you find his eyes, they’re shining—dark, alight—and wide with reward.

You nod, chin hitting your chest as you look down yourself, into those eyes. ‘Keep going,’ you tell him.

Keep going, keep going. Hands to your jeans again, down your hips this time, over your ass, your thighs. Underwear, too. The slight of his moustache brushed beneath your bellybutton and. And.  

‘Good boy,’ you say, under your breath, barely a whisper, but he hears. He hears it.

Good boy, you said, twisted key in the lock.

#juice ortiz #juice ortiz x reader #juan carlos ortiz #sons of anarchy fanfiction #juice ortiz x you #the only soa character i will every write probably LMAO #thats my BOYYYYYYYY my babyyyyy #enjoy!

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

these two together. <3

I just think this friendship was so important. season four, after juices suicide attempt - chibs was the only one to notice anything was going on. and the way he vowed to keep an eye on him?? chibs was always going out of his way to check juice was alright. that bathroom scene makes me emotional every time. their whole relationship was basically destroyed by season seven, which was so sad :(. breaks my heart that juice lost every single person he loved.

chibs is just the most incredible character man, so loyal and eager to help those he loves. he's SO underrated. what an angel. also he's super fuckin sexy but that's a whole other conversation

#chibs telford #juice ortiz #juan carlos ortiz #filip telford #sons of anarchy #soa #juice and chibs #chibs and juice

[mrsfilipchibstelford]

#tommy flanagan #chibs telford #sons of anarchy #theo rossi #juan carlos ortiz #juice #soa

[juancarlos-ortiz]

Denial - Juice Ortiz x Reader One Shot

A/N: A quick little one shot for Juicy pants - something sweeter this time! I am still working on Marked for Carnage but my life is a little hectic right now. Fingers crossed, next week the next chapter will be up. Please feel free to request a one shot if you wish! I will write for almost anyone from SOA.

Warnings: alcohol, swearing, mentions of sex (off page), kissing, smoking

Word Count: 1466 words

You bopped your head along to the music as you pulled the bottle opener from your back pocket, popping the tops off the beers in front of you. "Here you go, guys," you said, placing them on the bar in front of Tig and Chibs. "Thank you, sweetheart," Tig tipped his bottle your way whilst Chibs gave you a nod. You moved down the bar, serving members and the sweetbutts that hung off them. You had been working the bar for SAMCRO parties for many months now after your friend had begged you to tag along one night after they were down a person. You reluctantly agreed, having heard stories from other girls you knew were croweaters about how rowdy the parties could be and handsy the guys were. But surprisingly it had been a fun night and any guys that did try to hit on you, actually seemed to take no for an answer.

No, there was only one guy in this building you would want putting his hands on you. And he currently made his way to the bar, his eyes meeting yours and a smirk on his face. "What can I get ya, Juice?" you asked, already knowing his answer as you reached down into the fridge below the bar to grab a beer. "Beer please, beautiful," he winked, causing your skin to prickle with heat. Ignoring him, you popped the top and handed it over. He took a long sip and you watched the column of his throat dip as he swallowed, your blood rushing to your core and heart beginning to thump harder. He put his beer on the bar and smiled, aware of just how much he affected you. Crossing his forearms against the wood he lent in. "Busy tonight, sweetness?" he asked. You rolled your eyes, flicking the dishcloth over your shoulder out to lightly snap his arm. "Always busy, sweetness," you mocked before moving on to fulfill another order.

Juice stayed at the bar, watching as you moved around, taking orders, making people laugh, smoothly moving in between the other girls and the Prospects who were also working. He was playing it cool, but in reality his palms were drenched with sweat and his stomach was alive with butterflies. He could stand and watch you all night long, no croweater or pool game even a lick of competition to you. He felt someone elbow his side. Turning to face Chibs, he nodded in greeting. "A little distracted tonigh', aren't ye Juicy?" his brother asked. Juice just shrugged and had another long sip of his beer. "Been a long week, kinda tired," he lilted, trying unsuccessfully to pull his eyes from you. You passed a straw over to Piney with a laugh and shake of your head before you were heading back over to him, the sway in your hips and crook of your mouth making his pants suddenly tighter.

"You want another one?" you asked, tossing the dishcloth over your shoulder again. "I'll take whatever you want to give me," he prompted, causing your mouth to open. Juice was never usually this flirty at parties. You heard a scoff from a few seats down. "Would you two just hurry up and fuck already?!" Tig challenged, putting a cigarette into his mouth and lighting it. Chibs began to laugh into his drink. You huffed and crossed your arms. "What the hell are you talking about, Tiggy?" you sassed, lifting up their drinks and giving the table a wipe down. "You two," Tig motioned his beer to point between you and Juice. "The undressing with the eyes, the flirting…. It's painful," he blinked slowly. "Just do us all a favour and fuck each other." You let out a short laugh, your nerves setting in. What Tig didn’t know was that you and Juice had already had a roll in the sheets. Many… many… many… rolls in the sheets.

But it wasn't something you had made public purely because it was casual and you didn’t want to be seen as someone that any of the guys could have. Juice had agreed because he was fine with upkeeping his bachelor status with his brothers. You weren't exclusive but you certainly had not been with anyone else. You were unsure about Juice, and honestly you didn’t want to ask, but you were both being careful and it was just a bit of fun. But the last few times it had happened it had felt a little more than casual to you. It always happened at your place, usually after a SAMCRO party. The first few times Juice would usually leave pretty quickly after - which had been fine with you - but now he had made the choice to stay the night and usually for breakfast. Which meant you got to talk more, which in turn meant you got to know him better. And that had sparked some unexpected and intense feelings pretty quickly. You had been ignoring them because it seemed like Juice was on the casual train still and you didn’t want to fuck up what you guys had going.

"There is no undressing with the eyes, and Juice flirts with everyone," you shrugged, holding your hands out to lean against the bar. "Yeah right, and I'm the King of England," Tig rolled his eyes. "Can you believe the denial we're hearing right now?" he asked Chibs. "Ye better make a move soon though, swee'heart," Chibs chimed in. "If you don’t make a claim, someone else will." He and Tig got off their stools and moved over to the chairs where Bobby was lounging with a sweetbutt in his lap. You laughed humourlessly, before turning to move away. A hand shot out and grabbed your wrist. You looked up at Juice. "He was just kidding," he said, a forced smile on his face. You nodded and tried to smile back, shrugging your shoulders. "It's fine, Juice," you tried to step away but he held his grip. "You know there's no one else, right?" he asked, his wide brown eyes searching yours. "So what if there was?" you asked. Juice shook his head, gently pulling your arm so you would step back closer to him.

"I'm telling you, right now, there is no one else," he was dead serious, dragging his hand down your arm to lightly grasp your hand, giving you enough freedom to pull out of his grip if you wanted. "What are you doing, Juice?" you asked, looking over your shoulder to make sure the other girls were getting the drinks served. "You have to have noticed that things have been different," he pondered. "Like, a good kind of different." You swallowed thickly, nodding slowly. "I have but…" you lick your lips, Juice's eyes dropping to track the movement. "I didn’t think you did. Or that it's what you would want to be happening." Juice smiled. "You," he ran his thumb over the tops of your knuckles. "Are the only one I want to be going with. Going home to," he confessed. You blinked rapidly. "Is that ok with you?" he asked. You smiled nervously, narrowing your eyes. "It's definitely ok with me, but are you sure?" you asked apprehensively. He tugged on your hand lightly. "Come here, baby. Stake your claim," he stepped back and gestured towards himself. You chuckled, shaking your head, still unsure if this was real or some kind of cruel joke.

Stepping around the bar, you walked to him nervously. When you were close enough, Juice reached out to grasp your waist, pulling you into him quickly. You laughed, colliding with his chest. Grasping the lapels of his cut you tried to ignore the feeling of surprised eyes on you. "You're sure about this?" you ask again, making Juice sigh. "Positive," he said, squeezing your sides teasingly. "No more sweetbutts," you remind him. "And I know that you have that run clause thing but that shit doesn’t sit right with me either," you admit to him. "Baby," he tilts his head, eyes never leaving yours. "I haven’t been with any sweetbutts for months. Ask the other guys. The first time you dragged me through your front door and threw me down on your bed was it for me. There's been no one else. And won’t be. I don’t give a shit about the run clause." You smiled softly, heart warm with his confession. "Well in that case," you pulled him by his cut to meet you in a searing kiss, smiling at Juice's surprised sigh while his hands moved down to slip into your back pockets. "Atta boy, Juicy!" you heard Tig shout. Bobby cursed as he fished into his pocket, pulling out two $10 notes and handing one each to Tig and Chibs.

#soa #sons of anarchy #juice soa #juan carlos juice ortiz #juan carlos ortiz #juice ortiz #juice ortiz fanfic #juice ortiz fanfiction #juice ortiz fic #juice ortiz oneshot #juice ortiz imagine #juice ortiz x reader #juice x reader

[little-horror-smut]

There is no better trio out there than these

#kim coates #tommy flanagan #theo rossi #tig #tig trager #alexander tig trager #juice #juan ortiz #chibs #chibs telford #juan carlos ortiz #sons of anarchy #soa #trio #partners in crime #hot #hotties

[juicesgf]

Why not me? {J.O}

Juice watched as Y/n laughed and danced with Jax. The way he whispered in her ear making her giggle with the brightest smile.

He watched as someone else made the girl he loves happy. He watched as she fell in love with another guy, and he couldn’t do anything about it because cmon, look at him compared to Jax. He’s nothing.

He watched Y/n grab his hand before leading Jax towards the dorms, she looked so happy. why not me?

He snapped out of it realizing he now had a tear rolling down his cheek. He quickly wiped it off before chugging the rest of his beer, while a crow eater walked up to him.

“Hey, handsome.” She smiled

But he couldn’t do it. She wasn’t her. She wasn’t Y/n. He just ignored the girl walking out of the clubhouse.

‘Why not me?’ He thought to himself over and over. ‘Why couldn’t she love me.’

#sons of anarchy #juice ortiz #theo rossi #juice ortiz x reader #soa juice #juan carlos juice ortiz

[ravennaortiz]

Secret Part 1

Juice went numb when he looked up and saw her standing in front of him arms crossed. Her expression unreadable behind the large black sunglasses and hat she wore. His heart was racing and his mouth dry as he tried to think of an explanation.

"Well I guess meeting with a cop is better than another woman" stated Chloe as she took her sunglasses off and locked her hazel eyes on his. Juice tried to laugh but his nerves made it come out like a stangled cough. " I told you your the only one for me babe" replied Juice after a moment. "Roosevelt was just hassling me, no worries" he added trying to sound casual.

"This is the third time you've met him in the last two weeks. Every time with no kutte, a borrowed car and in the middle of no where" stated Chloe as she moved closer so they were inches apart. She knew he was lying and that something was wrong. They had been together to long for her to not see the signs.

Juice closed his eyes as he took a deep breath. This was it. This was how it all ended. He knew this all would come to light at some point. The stress of all the deceit and the anguish at the thought of losing his chosen family had tears rolling down his cheeks.

" He's blackmailing me to rat on the club"confessed Juice his breath barely above a whisper. "What's he got on you?" Asked Chloe as she scrunched her face up in concern as she used her thumb to brush away his tears. " I don't want to involve you anymore than you already are Angel" replied Juice as he looked at her and shook his head. " Juice I've been involved in club stuff my whole life and you have been my partner in crime for the last two years. It's safe to say I'm already in deep" replied Chloe with a comforting smile.

" He found out who my dad is and is threatening to tell the club because my dad is black" replied Juice knowing she was right. " Juice no one would care" replied Chloe with a frown at his words. "The club has rules" started Juice before she shushed him with a kiss. "I'll take care of this Juice" replied Chloe.

#sons of anarchy #soa #juice ortiz #samcro #soa juice #juice imagine #juice ortiz fanfic #how it should have gone #soa fanfic #juice soa #soa fanfics #old lady soa #soa fanfiction #sons of anarchy fanfic #sons of anarchy imagine #ravennasoc #ravennasmasterlist #juice ortiz appreciation #juice ortiz fanfiction #juan carlos ortiz #juan juice ortiz x reader #juice deserved better #juice imagines #juice ortiz imagine #juice ortiz imagines #juice ortiz x oc #juice x oc #sons of anarchy imagines #sons of anarchy fanfiction #sonsofanarchyimagines

[garbinge]

I lied

Juice Ortiz x F!Reader From these August Prompts:  “You said you'd go with me.” "I lied."

A/N: Me??? A Juice fic??? Idk where this came from, this poor man went through so much in canon that I decided, why don't I put him through some more in fic world???

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: Angst. Mentions of bruises/cuts.

SOA Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics

Your bags were packed with the necessities and your gut was filled with nerve and hope. You began driving to the clubhouse. It was late at night, no one would be there except a couple hang arounds and him. As you pulled into the lot, you saw him leaning against his bike, backpack on and waiting for you. You couldn’t help the smile on your face, things had been so tough lately, you could see it on his face everyday but now that you knew things were about to be new, there was a fresh start on the horizon, you couldn’t help but feel the excitement masked as butterflies as you pulled in. 

“Hey!” You couldn’t contain the elation in your tone. 

Juice looked up, hadn’t even noticed you drove in, the shock was on his face as he snapped out of whatever he was thinking. 

“Hey.” His voice was the complete opposite of yours, low, succumbed. It made every ounce of anticipation in you dissipate within seconds. 

“What’s wrong?” You immediately sped up so you were in front of him, dropping your bag at your feet to lift your hands up to his face. It took more effort than you expected lifting his head up, the weakness wasn’t just displayed on Juice’s face but in his demeanor. Your heart was starting to catch on to things, it was beating rapidly as you took in his attitude, his face. It was littered in bruises and cuts, and despite the purpled and red marks on his face, his soul was the most broken. 

“I’m fine. Just waiting for you.” Juice said after a deep breath and pushing back all his thoughts and managing to put a half-assed smile on.

“I missed you.” You said smiling back and taking his cue and moving to leave a kiss on his lips. “So much.” You pulled away to whisper the next two words against his mouth but Juice was quick to fill the space. His hands moved up to cup your face, there was desperation in it, but not in a wanting you way but in a way that he wanted this to make everything better. He kissed you with purpose but you could tell it was the wrong purpose. 

As you took a breath you rested your head against his and took the opportunity to speak to him. 

“We’ve got plenty of time for this later, c’mon we should hit the road.” Quickly you grabbed his hand and bent down to grab your bag and pull him to your SUV. “You can load your bike in the trunk, there's room. I don’t know if you wanna stop by your place and pick up anything more but I left all my stuff, figured my landlord will repurpose it after I default on the rent.” You chuckled. 

As you began to walk you noticed Juice wasn’t moving, he was back to looking at the ground and as you took one more step your conjoined hands fell. 

“Juice, c’mon.” You said once which earned you a glance from him and when you repeated it, a part of you knew what was about to happen so you raised your voice in a way that was practically begging him. Begging him not to do this. To just come with you. 

“We’re not going.” Juice’s voice was barely audible and the silence between both of you became the loudest thing in the air. 

“What?” You questioned after you realized you weren’t going to be able to wrap your mind around it. 

“We’re not going.” He had managed to sit up straight now and tell you with full volume now. 

You stared at him before speaking up. “You said you’d go with me.” Your voice also at a whisper. “I lied.”

Those words cut you deeper than anything else he could have said. The space between both of you felt like two magnets repelling against each other. There was a choice you had to make at that moment and it only took seconds for you to decide. Maybe you’d regret it, or maybe he would. But either way your choice was made. 

“No, you’re not going. I’m going. You’re an idiot to stay here, Juice. You’re choosing that,” you pointed to his face, “over starting new?” There was so much more to what you meant. Juice was choosing a life of violence, of deterioration, of constant heartbreak over a life of love, of growth, of happiness. There was no convincing him, if the actions you showed him were no match for the actions the club showed him, your words would mean nothing. 

“C’mon, don’t be like that.” Just like that he was back to the boy who had begged you to go with him, begged you to stay with him through this shit. None of it mattered. None of it ever mattered. 

“This is it, Juice. Either you come with me, or we’re done.”  You stepped back, that magnet repulsion still in high effect. 

That was it. It had been 3 years since that night, since you saw Juice. You didn’t exactly leave Charming, but you did make it a point to avoid any sign, trace, or mention of the club. It helped that you lived on the outskirts and decided to do all your errands in Morada. It proved to be successful, until today. 

As you walked around the convenient store, eyes on the shelves you bumped into someone, the apologies came pouring out from your mouth as you gathered the things that fell on the ground. 

“No, sorry, that was my fault, I wasn’t paying attention.” There was slight humor in the tone of the voice you knew so well that your heart stopped while you looked up at him, all the misstrewn groceries in your arms now as you stood up. Both of you staring at each other as the realization hit. 

He looked different. His hair was grown out, he had a mustache, a beard. Out of instinct, your eyes moved down to see he wasn’t wearing the kutte. I didn’t necessarily mean he was out of the club, but it did make your mind wander. 

“Hey.” His voice softened and he looked down at the groceries in your hand realizing what you had was mixed in with his items. “Uh, sorry.” He smiled in a way that melted you and pointed to something in your hand. “That’s mine.” 

You looked down to see his favorite snack nuzzled in between your groceries. “Oh.” You laughed back and adjusted your grip so you could hand him the bag. “Still love the honey barbeque twists.” You joked as your hands touched and you both pulled away instantly. 

“How are you?” Both of you spoke at the same time and laughed awkwardly. Juice pointed to you wanting you to speak first.

“I’m good. Y’know. Livin’ the dream.” You laughed awkwardly again. “You?” 

“Yea I’m good, just traveling back home.” He nodded. 

“No kutte.” You couldn’t help yourself as you brought up the lack of apparel. 

Juice was confused and looked down. “Oh, yea the trip was lowkey, just me and–” 

“Me.” Jax’s voice was smug as ever and it made you turn your attention to see him smiling and going to pull you into a hug. “Long time no see.” 

“Yea, been a minute.” You felt very uncomfortable but were going to see this through. 

“I’ll let you two catch up, I’ll be out by the bikes.” Jax smirked at Juice and winked at you before squeezing your shoulder as a goodbye. 

“Glad to see you two worked your shit out.” You said to Juice as Jax left the store. 

“Oh, yea, it's gotten better.” Juice tensed up and you could clock that shit from a mile away still.  

“Well, I gotta go, but it was nice seeing you.” Was it a lie? Was it the truth? You weren’t sure, but it was the polite thing to say. Juice agreed and stepped to the side to let you start walking down the aisle near check out. As you reached the end of the aisle about to turn down the next he spoke up causing you to turn to look at him. 

“I thought you left town? That night, you said you were gonna leave, I thought you left.” 

You could tell he was trying to wrap his head around this, seeing you. You knew he likely spent late nights awake thinking about it, about you, he might have looked different but he was the same Juice that you left in the Sons lot all those years ago. Which is why you didn’t want to leave anymore hope there, for either of you. You could see the hope in his eyes, that you were back, that maybe you could see eachother again, that you came back for him. All of that let you decide to break both of your hearts all over again by repeating the two words that determined both of your fates 3 years ago and keep walking away. 

“I lied.” 

#juice ortiz #juan carlos ortiz #juice soa #soa #sons of anarchy #soa fanfic #juice fanfic #juice fanfiction #soa fanfiction #sons of anarchy fanfic #sons of anarchy fanfiction #juice ortiz x reader #juice ortiz x you

[drakoneve]

Sons of Anarchy Masterlist

Requests are OPEN. Who I write for listed below the cut;

Tig Trager

Long Run.

Tig w/ a cat person

Chibs Telford

coming soon...

Jax Teller

coming soon...

Juice Ortiz

Destined Meetings.

Opie Winston

coming soon...

Happy Lowman

coming soon...

#jax teller x reader #tig trager x reader #chibs telford x reader #juice ortiz x reader #opie winston x reader #happy lowman x reader #sons of anarchy imagine #sons of anarchy fanfiction #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy x reader #jax teller imagine #soa x reader #jax x reader #opie x reader #tig x reader #alexander trager x reader #alex trager x reader #happy x reader #juice x reader #juan carlos ortiz #juan carlos x reader #soa fluff #soa angst #soa chibs #soa chibs x reader #soa jax x reader #soa tig x reader