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#juan carlos ortiz x reader
drakoneve · 6 months
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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!
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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.'"
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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.
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narcolini · 11 months
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no goodbyes - bonus scene
juice x gn!reader, hurt/comfort/fluff, 1138 words
warmings for reader in hospital care, mentions of injury
for day 28 of whumpril: bedridden | semiconscious | light Sensitivity
a/n: i told myself all month i couldnt do a follow up for this fic and then.. i went and did it anyway LMAO just had to give us a lil happy ending for him
tagging: @drabbles-mc @cositapreciosa​
previous part here
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The first thing you recognise as life, is the thrum of your own blood in your ear drums. The thump of a pulse in your skull, a headache, a pinching at the very back of your head: there, gone again, there. You wince. Try to swallow, but your tongue may as well be sandpaper, dry and tacky to the roof of your mouth. It’s like you’re having an allergic reaction. When you force another swallow it almost makes you panic, because how can you breathe like this? When your tongue is sitting like that, when your throat is sore like you’ve had the tonsils scraped out.
You blink, feeling the sleep catch in the corners of your eyes, like you went to bed crying and the tears dried where they fell. Un-wiped, not brushed away as you usually would. It’s blinding when you open them, so bright that you don’t manage to hold it for long enough to see where you are. Face scrunching, you’re back into darkness again, attempting to clear the parch of your mouth to speak.
‘Am I…’ You don’t get far. The back of your throat stings, but you clear it again and manage to ask, ‘Can you turn off the lights?’
You weren’t sure there was even anyone in the room, until the chair opposite goes shooting back, feet scraping along the floor. It must catch whatever is beside it, rattling that too. A whole explosion of noise, really, from the one person in the room with you.
It isn’t a stretch to guess who it might be.
You crack one eye open to look at him, to find Juice, standing by the bedside. ‘Hey.’ It’s barely a whisper.
He lets out a breath, pouring it over the blankets you’re draped in. ‘Thank God.’
You wish you could savour the look of him, the moment of relief. But it’s still so bright, white and searing. ‘Lights,’ you remind him, squeezing your lids shut again.
‘Yeah, sure.’
He nods, tracking across the room to the door, to the switch on the wall beside it. He flicks them off without hesitation, throwing you both into a much easier level of light to manage. Not entirely dark, thanks to the corridor beyond, but dim enough to open your eyes properly now, to blink away their dryness.
There’s the beeping, of course, now that you take notice. Whatever you’re hooked up to is very clearly saying you’re alive, not dead, not left in the back lot of the Sons’ clubhouse. The headache’s there still, pinching every now and then. But besides that, you feel nothing, see nothing. Your legs are covered in the baby-blue throws every hospital seems to own. No pain, that you can tell of. Maybe a tightness, an ache, but nothing like before. You must be on drugs, you realise with a smile, painkillers. Enough of them to hide the damage entirely.
You put your gaze back to Juice, slow and dreamy. ‘Hey, soldier.’
He looks sad, weirdly. Or it could be relief. Soft eyes, faint smile, dark circles that don’t suit him. Maybe he’s so tired that he can’t manage to look any other way. He should be grinning, really, because you’re alive and so is he. ‘Hey, baby,’ he says, so quiet you almost miss it.
You twitch your hand out, palm up. He comes forward like he’s read your mind and puts his own into it, fingers interlocking.
‘They said it wouldn’t be long til you woke up,’ he states, and then you hear the relief too, the Thank Gods planted behind every word.
You nod, and the movement throws the room from under you for a second. Yeah, definitely drugged. You shouldn’t do that again, minimal movements only from now on. ‘You been here waiting?’ you ask.
He nods. ‘Every day.’
A laugh snuffs out of you, through the nose, against the tubes you’ve got stuffed in there. ‘I love you.’
He squeezes your hand before bending to kiss it, just by the wrist. ‘You’ve no idea how worried I’ve been,’ he says, voice catching slightly.
‘I think I can guess.’
‘When you dropped at the club…’ His head shakes. ‘I could hardly walk, it’s like my legs went with you. With yours.’ He swallows, flitting an apologetic look your way, like he was wrong to compare his legs, to your injured ones. If you were anymore yourself, you’d have laughed. You don’t mind when it’s him.
‘What happened?’ you ask, finding it easier to talk now that you’ve started.
‘Well.’ He looks shy to tell you, a bit embarrassed even. Too humble for his own good. ‘Turns out I could, cause I had to. Wasn’t about to let you die on me like that.’
Of course not, he’d never forgive himself if you did. ‘Over the shoulder?’ You sigh, sinking into the pillows slightly. ‘Or like a bride?’
He frowns. ‘What?’
‘How did you carry me?’ Your eyes close, lips lifting into a smile. You’ve no idea if it’s even noticeable to him. You can’t really feel your face. ‘Trying to picture my rescue,’ you muse.
He laughs then, genuine and loud enough to sound strange in the half-lit hospital room, like it’d be insensitive if there was anyone else there besides you and him. It must be the first time he has in a while, from the way it burst out. ‘Honestly,’ he says, ‘it wasn’t heroic. Y’know, crying, blood. Couldn’t get my fucking hands in the right…yeah. Not a movie moment.’
You hum. ‘Well, I’m gonna pretend it was bridal style.’ You sneak a look at him, through your lashes. ‘And that you were topless. Shirt fell off in the chaos.’
He laughs again, teeth flashing as he leans toward you for a kiss. You see him hesitate a moment, just before your lips, before deciding to put it there anyway, nose bumping the breathing tubes you’re stuck in. He could kiss them out of you, for all you care. You got this breathing business down.
‘I love you,’ he says, once he’s pulling back again, and putting his other hand over yours. Like one wasn’t enough, he has to hold it twice. ‘I would’ve never forgiven myself if—’
‘Don’t, Juicy,’ you cut him off. ‘I’m okay. I will be.’
He looks down at his feet. But it’s not a lie, is it? He’s got nothing to hide from you.
‘Right?’ You wiggle your toes, all ten. ‘I’m not…?’
‘No, no, you’re good.’ Your query pulls him back to you, reassuring smile in the creases by his eyes. ‘Well, couple bullet holes, but.’
You sigh, drawn out and light like you’ve just settled into a lounger at the beach, not stretched your legs across a hospital bed. ‘I’ll take what I can get.’
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natlovessoup · 2 years
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Sons Of Anarchy masterlist
This is my Sons Of Anarchy masterlist :) hope you can find what you are looking for <33
Requests are open! You can request a fic here!
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Jax Teller
tba
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Happy Lowman
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Chibs Telford
tba
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Tig Trager
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Juice
tba
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cloveroctobers · 1 month
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FEBRUARY FLUFF — JUAN “JUICE” ORTIZ.
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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.
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garbinge · 11 months
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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​
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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.” 
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juancarlos-ortiz · 2 days
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Denial - Juice Ortiz x Reader One Shot
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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.
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darqchilddaydreamz · 1 year
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31 DecemberDaydreamz
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18+ ONLY BLOG 🚩 MINORS GO AWAY 🚩
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
#23 - "Private Party"
Juice was late and you were trying not to be worried about it. Checking your phone again, you smile at your coworker’s story about her daughter’s school recital as if it wasn’t the third time you were hearing it. Maybe he’s not coming. Maybe the club has him working…again. You sigh, mentally preparing yourself for a night alone when he appears in the doorway, scanning the room for you.
He was wearing an untucked, black button-up, long-sleeve shirt that had a bit of a sheen to it - with actual cuff links. His jeans were a deep, inky black and pressed. His Steven Madden, square-toe, black dress boots were buffed to a gleaming shine. He was groomed to a tee, clean-shaven and scalp shining. And the rings on his hands caught the party lights as he moved along with the silver chain you got him for his birthday. The cut that you expressly told him he could wear, was nowhere in sight. He looked absolutely delicious.
He caught your eye and smiled that gorgeous grin of his at you from across the room, coming your way on his bouncy glide, chin raised and fingers slightly balled up out of habit and your heart did a little flip flop thinking, God, I love the way he walks.
Standing up as he maneuvered through suits, dresses and holiday sweaters, you saw a few sets of eyes linger on him and you couldn’t blame them. He was a whole man meal tonight and you couldn’t wait to get a taste. The hug he wrapped you up in was probably inappropriately long but he had doused himself in his Carolina Herrera Bad Boy cologne and you wanted to nuzzle down into his neck and stay there for the rest of the night.
“Hey, babe.” He cupped your face, dropping his head down to look you in the eye. “Sorry, I’m late. I miss anything?”
“Nope.” You both can’t stop smiling. Yours was blissfully happy because you can’t believe he came and his was proud and a little embarrassed because you keep looking at him like you’d never seen him before.
“You looking this good just for me?”
Embarrassed, he chuckled, “Yeah.”
“I like it.” You bit your lip, you eyes traveling over him again. “A lot.”
Juice laughed, rolling his eyes but loving the attention and the way you hadn’t stopped touching him since he made his way over to you. “Cut it out.”
“I’m trying!” You giggle. “But…damn, babe.”
Throwing his arm around your shoulders, he kissed your temple and tugged you into motion, “Okay, dirty girl who do I gotta meet tonight.”
For the next two hours, you stayed glued to his side. Watching him finesse your coworkers and talk techy babble had you on fire in a way that he never had before. Your bad girl mode was turned on and out of control. Your constant need to touch him had him flustered while he socialized. You may have looked innocent standing next to him smiling politely while he listened to a guy drone on about the problems with his last flight, but your thoughts were nothing but sin, running your nails across the back of his neck occasionally giving the shell of his ear a little nerve-tingling attention. Your hand on his back, trailing one nail back and forth between shoulder blades, drawing a Z down his spine. You lost count of how many times he captured your hands and held onto them to make you behave.
At your table during the awards ceremony with the room darkened for attention on the speakers, he sucked in a breath and gave you a warning glance when you curled up under him, your fingers finding their way into the perfect spaces between the buttons on his shirt, stroking and tickling the warm skin you found inside.
“Babe?”
“Hmm?”
“Wanna see my office?”
He frowned confused, he had seen your little workspace before. It was basically a cubicle with a door. “I’ve seen your office.”
Leaning into his ear, you run your hand up his thigh high enough to make him jump, “I think you want to see my office.” You stand, grab his hand and wait for his brain to catch up.
Doing a double take at the look you’re giving him, the intent of the invitation fully hit him and he got up to follow you, all smiles.
Most of the lights in the building are off but you walk these halls every day. Entering your office you leave the lights off and tug him inside. He is on you before you can finish turning the lock, pinning you with your face against the door.
“You’re in trouble,” he breathed onto the back of your neck. His hands crept up your sides, lifting your arms and placing them flat on the door. “Stay there.”
Hearing him unfasten his belt buckle you start to turn your head, earning you a firm skull push back into the door. His voice is dark with warning, “Stay.”
He slides your panties down, holding your ankle to help you get them off. Sliding his hands up the back of your legs before he stands again. Your heart is pounding, the waiting is too much. “Juice?” you whine.
He lays himself flush to you, moving your hair to the side, “Shhh.”
The first kiss on the back of your neck - open-mouthed, hot and wet, curls your toes in your shoes. When he begins to suck, you can’t catch your breath. Juice pulls up your dress and you feel his hard body press against yours. It’s flesh on flesh, his pants and underwear already down around his ankles. Automatically you arch back to feel more of him and the high sigh that falls from your parted lips is captured in the kiss he snatches your head back for. You are surrounded by the essence of him - the heat of him, the smell of him, the sound of his deep breathing and murmurs, all of it driving your arousal higher. Pressing your head back into the door, he locks his mouth on your neck, dropping hot kisses while his fingers draw swirling patterns on your hips, trailing over your thighs while he grinds against your butt cheek, letting you feel the size and hardness of what’s coming. He plays with you, running his fingertips achingly close to the place that’s throbbing for him, setting your legs to trembling, causing your knees to wobble a bit.
You draw in a lungful of air, gasping when he dips down and begins to rub his dick between your legs, drawing out more of the juices already wetting your thighs, coating himself. You were trying in vain to be quiet while panting out his name, whining, “God baby! Please!”
Lining himself up with you he still teased, getting a little revenge for your treatment of him during the party - enjoying the high-pitched sounds that escape you every time he breeches your entrance, until he thrusts all the way up into you, biting down on the soft flesh at the curve of your neck. His first strokes are rough, hard with a digging grind at the end, filling you entirely.
“Open up, baby,” he demands nudging the back of your thigh. You widen your stance locking your legs to help keep your balance against his thrusts wobbling you in the high heels you still have on. You tuck your lips in to muffle your cries during the next far more forceful thrusts he drills into you.
“Shiiiit, that’s it,” he moaned out, slamming into you again and again. His dick feels like heaven but his weight against you is pure sin. The feeling of the crush between his body and the door is an added sensation you didn’t know you wanted, and he is speeding up to a brutal pace that has you barely able to catch your breath.
Your hand covers his as he gropes your breast, plucking your nipple through the layers of the shimmering fabric of your dress. The tremor that started in your legs is spreading all over your body. Juice reached around, his hand stroking and squeezing your abdomen, then hip - then diving between your legs and circling your clit. The eye-rolling compilation of sensations almost takes your legs from you entirely. Dipping lower for more of your moisture, he strums across it fast and deliberate. Your body reacts, clenching him, your back arches pushing your ass out into him involuntarily and he groans out his appreciation in a long string of low curses. It’s getting harder by the second to swallow down the moans that now reside in your throat. Holding your breath in intervals to keep from screaming has your brain floaty and unclear. Listening to his tight growling but sweet utterances are making you reach back for him, wanting more contact.
As you barrel at full speed toward your orgasm, your voice returns refusing to comply with the need for silence and helpless cries explode from you with every slamming thrust. Immediately, Juice takes control with one hand still gripping your hip for leverage, he claps the other over your mouth. The speed of his hips increases to a mind-fogging speed, his hand vibrating from your howling cries beneath it. You don’t have to look back to know he’s biting his lip to maintain control, he wants this for you. He wants to feel you come. Jesus this man. Three long, shrill screams string out when you hit your climax. Juice wraps his arm around your waist to hold you up while he pumps harder but slower, his hips shuddering while catching his release.  Leaning against you, his breathing is gasping and ragged, whispering curses that make you shiver. Dropping his hand from your lips, he kneads the soft flesh of your hips, palming your ass gently.
“Is that what you needed?” he breathes out on a bass-filled chuckle, purposely pressing in to make you spasm again.
“Mmm-hmm,” is all you can gather yourself enough to say, lost in the remaining tweaks and tremors you body is squeezing out.
Pulling out of you slowly, he yanks up his pants and turns you around, claiming your lips in a long, deep kiss. Backing away, he leans back on your desk buttoning his shirt, watching you pull your panties back on and fuss with your dress and hair. A smile plays on his lips knowing how much you smell like his cologne right now, how his fingers smell like your essence and you’re gonna be leaking his cum for a while yet. A chuckle bubbles up and you catch it, “What?”
He shakes his head, “Nothing.” Reaching out he pulls you close, burying his face in your neck, “...but we should do more parties on our own.”
You can feel his smile against your skin, and you lean into him wrapping your arms around his neck, stroking the back of his head.
“We should.” Your blossoming smile is full of mischief, “Let’s go.”
“What about your party?” he murmurs between bites on your collarbone.
Tugging him up by the ears, you cup his face and kiss him slow, “We can have a better one at home.”
-fin-
❄️ ❄️ ❄️ ❄️ ❄️ ❄️ ❄️ ❄️ ❄️ ❄️
⛄ Reblogs are a lovely compliment to pay. ⛄ See u LuvBugs tomorrow! kjx
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your-space-brain · 7 months
Text
Narcan Dreams
Juan Carlos “Juice” Ortiz x Reader - One Shot
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Gif does not belong to me.
Moved from @spacedbrainnn .
“I’m fine.” He would say.
“It just takes the edge off.”
“I’m not even doing that much.”
“It’s just a downer.”
“I’m not high.”
“Why are you asking so many questions?”
“What do you care?”
“It’s not even a drug.”
There were so many questions you’d ask and he would always have an answer. He always did. He was hidden behind brown eyes and a drug that suppressed the system that got nervous. It didn’t excite anything but the script was controlling his marionette strings.
Oxycontin.
He was becoming more and more apparent with it, and he knew that, but he needed it. He desired it, to the point he couldn’t control his eyes. They would get heavy and his mind would feel like it was crawling down his spinal cord. He was becoming too evolved in it.
Then, you found him.
He was laying there on the ground, his mouth open and he was hardly breathing. The sight alone, him there like a wax figure that had fallen over, sent a chill over you that felt like you were plunged into a dreadful ice bath.
“Shit.” The word fell out of your mouth as you collapsed on your knees beside him. His face was clammy and sweaty in your hands. Patting his cheek, you said his name.
“Juice.” It didn’t seem to do anything, so you popped him a bit harder as he didn’t have a response. Cradling his face, his body was dead weight, his head rolling in your hands before you saw the foam forming at the corner of his lips.
“Fuck, Juice. I told you to stop messing with this shit.” The words were to yourself to keep your mind from hitting fifth gear in manual overdrive. When you began to dig in your bag, your hands were shaking.
“Where is it? I know it’s in here.” Things shuffled around noisily but it didn’t matter. None of it did. None of the things in that bag were what you were looking for until you found it.
Narcan.
Popping the cap off, you shoved the nasal spray into his nostril and popped the plunger all the way in. The mist travelled his nose to his brain and hit the capillaries and nerves of his cerebral overdose. Then, like he was never down, his body jerked and his eyes opened.
“What’s happening?”
“Shut up.” You snapped as you tossed the vial away.
“What?”
“I said, shut up.” You repeated as you sighed. His brows knitted as if he didn’t know he just nearly ended his own life, and when you hauled him up by the leather that was almost desperately attached to his body, he nearly choked.
“Do you understand that you could’ve just died?” He swallowed when you got nose to nose with him, your breathing slightly labored because you were at your whit’s end. If you weren’t holding his cut, you’d have been trembling.
“Died, Juice. Dead. Gone. Without me. You’d leave me here with these fuckers." The realization made his brows lower as he sighed, his breath so dangerously close to your mouth as you sighed yourself.
“I can’t lose you, idiot. You’re a fucking idiot.” The verbal abuse spewed from your mouth out of fondness. You didn’t care.
“I need you. Do you not get that? I’ve questioned you for a reason—”
“[First name], breathe—”
“No.” The tears began to form. “Dammit!” You let him go to push them from your eyes, cussing more at yourself than at him.
“[First name]—”
“Dammit, Juice.”
“I’ll… I’ll work on stopping. I can’t see you like this.” He spoke honestly as he took you by the shirt this time, pulling himself up to stare you in the eyes with his large brown ones. “I promise.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
— end —
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lovearne · 11 months
Text
Silence
Juice (Juan Carlos Ortiz) x male! Reader
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My page is 18+ only. I don't tolerate minors here. This is my safe place to express myself, and I don't consent to minors viewing my works or my blog.
Warnings: silent treatment (kinda), homophobic views (not really specified), sad theme (kinda), juice is a big old softie who wants to be babied by his boyfriend
5 days. You'd not seen your boyfriend in 5 days.
He'd not wanted to tell anyone, especially anyone in the club. He didn't know how they'd react to him being gay. Well, he doesn't know his sexuality for sure anymore. Before he'd started dating you, he thought he was straight. Turns out he's not. 
He's terrified to use a title for his sexualtiy because then it makes it real. Makes it a lie to the club, because as far as he knows, the club doesn't allow gays in the MC. 
He's normally radio silent for a few days during a run, but this? This was different. This was yards different. He'd been scheduled for a hearing, and then disappeared. You'd went downtown and asked around about him and the club, the only answers You'd gotten were from a still grieving and tortured Chief Unser, he mumbled a few things and waved you off.
"No, chief you don't understand." You tired to plead with him. 
"I understand just fine." He interrupts you. "I'm not helping the sons, and I don't know where they are." You nod.
"Can I file a missing person's?" The chief's eyes narrow a little at you.
"And what exactly is your affiliation with the club?" You smile uncomfortably.
"I'm just a worried friend. And customer. I went by the past couple of days and I haven't seen anybody. I'm worried more about Juan Carlos, he's not the most mentally stable and I'm afraid after the events of Kip's funeral, he did something to himself." Unser sighs.
"OK, we'll send a patrol out to do a wellness check. Check things out." His face changes, putting on a small fake smile as he rubs your upper arm. "Don't worry son, I'm sure he's fine."  He makes eye contact and for a second, a spilt second you thought he'd maybe knew. "I'm sure he's like your brother, everyone has one close to them." He definitely didn't know. Your shoulders fell, you'd thought, maybe, just maybe you'd be able to confide in one person about your life. "The boys will take care of him. I'm sure he'll call you when he's free to look at your car." You sigh frustratedly, getting up and storming out of the police station. 
You walked your way back, to angry to be able to drive properly. You don't understand why you weren't getting answers, didn't understand why Juice was so afraid to tell people that he loves you. If straight people can love publicly, then why can't gay people? 
On the walk back to your house, their clubhouse came to view, you seen a few of the guys, seeing of the men you know well enough, you wave, he gestures you to come onto the property. He calls your name fondly, the dirty blond man beside him furrowing his brows.
"Who the hell is that guy?" Tig casts him a glare and moves to give you a half hug. 
"This is juicey boys best friend, they go way back." Tig then looks at you. "You come here looking for him?" You nod.
"Yeah, he doesn't normally dodge me like this, got worried." Tig nods in understanding. 
"It's a club matter, so I can't tell you where he is." You nod.
"I know all about club business being kept. Just tell me if he's alive?" Tig and the man, look at each other and then back at you. Tig nods, you smile. "I'm not going to ask, but thanks for letting me know." He nods again, putting his hand on your shoulder. This is the second time a man older than yourself has placed his hand on you like a dad would to a son. You guessed, since it's in the name of their MC, the older men treat the younger men like sons.
"Your friend is gonna be just fine." He squeezes your shoulder and then moves to leave. The words burn on your tongue as you hold them back. You weren't friends, you were lovers.
The next day, you received a call from Juice, you ignored it.
A shuffle and dip of your bed wakes you in the middle of the night, looking at your clock, it reads 2:00, it's very late and very early all at once. You smile slightly at the disagreements you'd had with your boyfriend about the terminology, they were mostly conversations you'd had high and dumb, way before the two of you got together. 
"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you." He sounds tired. "Been a rough few days." You turn your head, trying to avoid this conversation, pretending to go back to sleep. You hear Juice sigh. You feel him shuffle on the bed, taking off his shoes and jeans, you heard his sighs and grunts as he moves. You still just laid beside him, you didn't want to fight, you wanted to be glad he was home, safe. You relax a little as you feel him spread out on the blanket beside you, desperately longing to reach for him, yet he's still so far. You want to initiate cuddles and tell him how much you've missed him. But the radio silence hurt. So you stay laying as you are, not too long later you feel his hand on your shoulder, his body leaned over yours slightly. 
"I know you're asleep, and you won't hear this. But I want to tell you anyway, because my mind is so, it's just so goddam loud." He leans closer and places a soft kiss against your temple. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you I was leaving, and I'm sorry for not answering or returning your calls. I'll tell you this in the morning. I'm planning on sticking here with you tomorrow, we can spend the day together. I still have to do my jail time, so I wanna soak up as much time as possible with my pretty boy." He places another kiss on your bare shoulder. 
"Cuddles?" You couldn't help but say something. The  so thick in your throat that the word came out deeper than you intended. You could hear your boyfriend's excitement as he shuffled under the blankets, feeling his hips make contact with your ass, and his arms wrapped around you, face pressed into your neck. You felt at home. He was here with you, and nothing was going to come between you. 
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manestjerne · 8 months
Text
Let me save you pt. IV
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Juice Ortiz x female
Word count: 5.1k
Warnings: toxic relationship, abuse, blood, injuries, mentions of crimes, angst
A/N: Maybe it’s a little too much, but I really felt like it, promise the other parts will be more calm and fluffy, still hope you enjoy🥰
It’s been a few days now, and not much has changed. He still wasn’t talking to me about things he should, but I knew it was only a matter of time. But at least we talked a lot, about everything except the important things, but it’s okay. If he wasn’t here we were texting and it made me feel more safe.
I got up late, enjoying my day off, when I got an unexpected call. It was from St. Thomas, one of the hospitals I applied to. They wanted me to come for an interview and I could actually go there the same day, since I wasn’t at work, so I took a quick shower, did my makeup and put a jacket on to cover the tattoos on my arms. At least for the interview. I really wanted to get this job and the phone call was promising. I sat in my car, feeling like I wasn’t there for ages. Sound of the engine starting warmed my heart a little. I was still stressed, but nothing bad can happen, the worst thing is them not hiring me, but that’s not the end of the world. Driving 30 miles and obeying all the rules was pretty boring, so I decided to step on the gas harder. I knew well why I stopped doing that, but still, it can’t get any worse now, can it?
The lady interviewing me was much nicer than I expected and at the end she said I can get started next week. After that she was talking about some papers I’ll need to sign, but I couldn’t focus on that. The only thing in my head was who should I call first. My shitty boss, telling him I won’t stand behind his shitty bar ever again, or Juice. That one won’t be so easy, me moving from Lodi might make our situation worse. Leaving the room and going down the hall I was staring at my phone, wondering what should I tell him first. New job, moving out? I stared at my phone and stopped rapidly before tripping over some man. He stopped too, so I looked at him. Pretty tall, black beard and hair with silver accents, two long scars by his mouth, imitating a wide smile. But that was not what I was looking at, his cutte was hella familiar.
- Holy shit - I said before thinking of anything else
- Hi - he laughed - can I help you?
- Uh-huh. I have a quick question.
- Go on then - his smile was warm
- Is “Redwood Original” the name of your charter? - I pointed at his patch, which I saw way too many times, but on a different guy
- Ya. Why? - I liked his accent
- And what are you doing here?
- What do you mean by “here”? - his laugh was a bit comforting looking at the weirdness of the situation - The hospital?
- No, what are you doing in Charming?
- Well, darlin’ I live here.
- You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!
- I’m actually not, but can you tell me what’s wrong?
- Nothing’s wrong. Could you tell Juice I said hi?
- Juice? - I heard confusion in his voice
- Yeah… - he kinda put me off guard
- Oh no, don’t get me wrong. We just didn’t know he had a lady.
- We’re just friends, nothing serious - I said nervously and he smirked
- Hey, Chibs! - I heard a man yelling from the other side of the hall - No time for chicks now, we have to go.
- Shit, sorry. So what’s your name again?
- Y/n - I realised I didn’t introduce myself - thanks Chibs.
- Anything - he said walking away
Problem solved. I dialled my bosses number when I heard Chibs saying
- Ay, Tiggy. You knew Juice got himself a girl?
- No shit, finally - the other man replied with a laugh
That’s gonna be fun.
My ride back home was way quicker than it should, but I didn’t care, still happy about my new job. I sat at the balcony with my laptop and started to look through the houses for sale in Charming, after a few minutes I heard a motorcycle pulling up. A moment later I heard a familiar knock on my door, so ran there to unlock it. Juice came in without even asking.
- The hell were you doing in Charming? - I flinched at him throwing his hands in the air and saying it a bit louder than necessary
- I got a new job…. - I replied taking a step back
He must’ve seen my reaction and realised it’s because of him, staring at the floor now.
- But why didn’t you tell me you applied to St. Thomas?
- You never asked what places I applied to. Are you mad? - I decided to get more defensive and set my boundaries - I don’t get what your problem is, you never even told me where you live, so what’s this about? Scared your friends are going to meet me now? Don’t worry, it’s already too late and I still never wanted to-
- Hey - he cut me off with a laugh - What are you talking about? That’s great news.
The relief was surely visible on my face because he shortened the distance between us again.
- So you’re not mad I’m moving?
- Mad? - his laugh melted my heart - Why the hell would I be mad? It will be even easier to hit up on you when you’ll be closer. Just watch out for Tig, he might me a little extra sometimes.
My phone started buzzing but I completely ignored it.
- Why would I ever see him again? Y’all live together in a cute little house or you spend so much time at the hospital? - he didn’t say anything about that, just laughed
- You’re not going to answer?
I took the phone out of my pocket and declined the call from Mark.
- Absolutely not.
We decided to order some food and just hang out for a while. Spending time with him was something else, I felt more safe and comfortable than ever, even tho I knew him for only about a month. Although this time was different, Mark tried to call me two times and I declined. He hasn’t reach out for a few days now so it was my chance to finish it, but I couldn’t pick up when Juice was around. He will probably call again. Definitely. I tried to enjoy spending time with Juice but it was hard to focus. For the first time I was relieved when he said he’s got to go. When I closed the door behind him and sat on the couch I looked at the unread messages. “You moved to Lodi? Why didn’t you tell me?” Holy fuck. How can he know that. I stared at the messages when he called, answered immediately.
- Jesus Christ Mark. Can you finally leave me alone? We broke up months ago.
- Not really - he sounded offended - you broke up with me.
- Exactly - I just smiled at how ridiculous was what he just said - and it means we’re not together anymore
- But can we at least talk about it? For the last few months you acted like you forgot about me.
- Maybe because I did - I was confident, trying to let him know it’s really over - that’s what people do after a breakup. Fucking forget about each other, you should do that too.
- Don’t swear princess - he sounded so calm, started to freak me out
- I’m not you damn princess, what the fuck is wrong with you Mark?
- I just want to talk, you live in Lodi, right? - I felt my body tense at his words
- Well, I’m moving soon, but that’s not your business.
- But you’re still in town? I want to talk to you personally. I’ll be there in 5.
This has to be a joke. He can’t come here, he can’t know where I am.
- You’re freaking me out Mark - I said and hung up
I didn’t know what to do and lately when this happened I just texted Juice. But what am I going to tell him now? Hey, can you come save me, I think my crazy ex got my address somehow and is on his way to kill me or sth. He probably isn’t even going to come here. He surely just meant Lodi. I’ll be there in 5. I’ll be in Lodi in 5. Yup, that’s it. I opened the conversation with Juice.
Hey, I know you just left, but could you come by? I want to talk, but don’t worry, you haven’t done anything bad this time:)
I looked at the message. He won’t freak out, nothing’s happening. It sounds cool. I praised myself in my head for not overreacting when I heard knocking on the door. But it wasn’t my favourite knocking. It was more harsh, aggressive.
- Y/n, please, I just want to talk - his voice was nice, welcoming
I walked to the door slowly, thinking what could happen.
- Please, you know I won’t hurt you. Let’s just finish it.
At this point I had no choice. Slowly bringing my hand up I unlocked the door, at the same moment he slammed it open. I felt warm blood dripping from my nose. Meeting with the cool surface of the wall behind me was comforting, trying to get my thoughts together I just stood there for what felt like hours. He grabbed my hand and brought me to sit on the sofa with him.
- Oh baby, look what you made me do - he said while getting a tissue and wiping my nose and mouth, but I slammed his hand away
- What I made you do? Get out of my house and leave me alone - I yelled, but got silent as he slapped me
I wished I told Juice the truth, or at lest called him to actually come here.
- Shh, let me talk - I just nodded - look, we could start again, what do you think?
- I don’t think I’m ready for a new relationship, not with you.
- Not with me? - he put his hand on my throat and started squeezing - okay, but we don’t have to do it now, huh? - I felt my eyes watering - I can give you some time, just don’t treat me like air.
- Mark, you’re hurting me - I whispered underneath my breath
- Oh right - he pulled his hand back - sorry, love.
My phone started buzzing on the table, I tried to get it but just felt a hard punch on my ribs causing me to wrap my hands around my body.
- Who’s Juice? - he asked
- Just a friend, we work together - I forced a smile to calm him down
- Just a friend? - another punch - just a friend? - he yelled punching me again
- Yes - I said confidently
- Then why would you try to answer so fast? - another punch
I have to change my strategy before I cough my lungs out.
- I just wanted to mute, so no one will bother us.
- Oh, I’m sorry baby, you know I’m nervous sometimes.
- I know, it’s all right - I smiled, blood filling my mouth again
- So can we start again? You know I’m not like this. I have a hotel here, I’m staying for a while.
- That sounds good, but I need some rest now. You can call me tomorrow, how about that? We’ll figure something out.
He pulled me in and kissed my forehead. I felt tingling in my fingers, realising he was holding my wrists so tight I felt blood leaving my hands.
- I missed you. Glad you’re okay, I was afraid you’ll push me away again. I should go now - I felt the pressure around my wrists loosen - I’m so grateful I found you.
- How did you know where I live? - I asked before realising it will only make him stay longer
- Emily told me she talked to you before you moved.
Oh sure, fucking slut.
- I’ll go now, please don’t make me do things like that again. We’ll talk different tomorrow.
- Okay, see you then - I forced a smile and waited for him to leave so I can close the door
I sat on the couch and tried to settle my breath. While putting my fingers to my pulsing temple I felt it’s also wet and sticky. And how the fuck did that happen? I looked at my fingers covered in blood and just wished he’d really leave me alone today. I walked up to the sink to wash my hands and face, looked at the mirror. Bruises covering my neck and wrists, tried to take off my shirt to look at my ribs but couldn’t put my hands high enough so I just sat on the couch glad that it’s over and I’m all right. I remembered the times when he suddenly started being aggressive towards me and after that acted like nothing happened. That’s why I left him, that’s one of the reasons why I left LA. Focusing on what just happend I forgot about texting Juice, but when I heard knocking on my door my heart dropped.
- Y/n. Open the door please!
His scream made me shiver but I walked to the door opening it slowly. He bursted in and walked past me.
- Please don’t do that again, you can’t text me such shit and then just not answer my messages and calls, I was-
He got silent immediately when he looked at my face. Wandering around with his eyes he saw the tissues covered in blood on the coffee table.
- What the hell happened here?
I couldn’t answer, just fell into his arms feeling tears dripping on my cheeks. He gently walked me to the couch and sat close enough to wrap his hands around me in a comforting hug. He didn’t say anything, just hold me close stroking my arm lightly, waiting for me to calm down. When I started breathing normally I pulled back and looked him in the eyes, but immediately turned my head away when I felt my eyes watering again.
- Can you tell me what happened now?
- You want to hear the whole story or just todays one?
- Do we have time for the longer one? - he smiled gently encouraging me to speak
I told him everything about Mark. Starting at how we met during a race, our stormy relationship, his sudden change of attitude and finally about the breakup he couldn’t accept. Then I started about what happened today, but felt like I forgot half of it.
- So at least I was right about the toxic ex - he tried to sound funny but I heard his voice shaking - Why didn’t you tell me? Jesus, I should know, all the missed calls and messages, you flinched when I raised my voice. I should ask you about it, it’s obvious you won’t tell me.
- God, stop. Are you blaming yourself?
- Maybe a little. You should go with me, we have a doctor at the clubhouse, she should see this.
- I don’t need a doctor Juice.
He put his hand on my side which made me bring my knees up and hold them close to my chest.
- This looks like you need to see a doctor. Your nose is also not looking good.
- I don’t think it’s broken.
- Maybe it’s not, but Tara will do something about it. Let me help you, please - he sounded desperate at this point
- Okay, I’ll go.
- Then go and pack, I’ll help you but first I have to call Jax.
- Pack?
- You don’t think you’re staying here, do you?
I knew I couldn’t stay here but I was planning on getting a hotel room near Charming before I could find a house.
- I’m not homeless, I don’t need a shelter.
He just smiled at me and called Jax, I got up slowly and went to my bedroom to get the most important stuff. Juice joined me a few minutes later.
- Tara finishes her shift in about an hour, then she can come and see you, we’ll wait for her - I rolled my eyes - unless you want to go to a hospital?
- And what will I tell them?
- That you were attacked by a clowder of cats?
When we packed all the things I might need in the next few days I realised I’m still covered in blood in some places, it dried up making me feel pretty uncomfortable.
- I think I need to take a shower before we go - I said stroking my hair
- Really? - he put his face in his hands in an act of disbelief
- Really. I won’t go anywhere like that.
- As you wish princess, I’ll wait.
- Yeah, great. Can you help me with my shirt?
- You can’t put your hands up and still tried to refuse seeing a doctor?
- I just. I don’t want to go to your clubhouse okay, definitely not looking like that.
- We’re used to it, don’t worry.
- Used to bringing beat up hoes by another members? - I didn’t actually know why I reacted like that
I was really grateful Juice wanted to help me, I guess it was just my reaction about being so stressed lately. I automatically regretted saying that, waiting for him to take up the argument, but instead he came closer and lightly grabbed my hands.
- Y/n - he started softly - you’re not a hoe, nobody thinks you are. You shouldn’t think about yourself like that either. I know you’re stressed, but you know I just want to help.
- I know, I’m sorry…
- Don’t be sorry, just let me do what’s best for you now.
When I took a shower Juice helped me with my bags and we were ready to go. He stopped at the door and turned to me.
- Can we take your car? I’m not sure bike is a good option for our trip - he smiled
- Sure - I tossed him the keys - but you drive.
We walked out and I leaded him to my car, before he put the bags in the trunk he stopped and looked at it for a moment.
- A fucking challenger? You really were playing Fast and Furious back there.
I just laughed and got in the passenger sit, realising I’ve never sat here.
- I never let anyone drive it, it’s like my child, so you better be careful - I sent him a warning smile - you should feel honoured.
- Well, I am. Don’t worry, I won’t be speeding.
- Oh don’t be ridiculous, that’s what this car was made for. Just don’t hit any pedestrians or worse, a curb - I sent him a death stare and he just laughed before turning on the engine
- Wow - his smile was beautiful, especially when he was sitting here
I started getting more nervous as we entered Charming. Handling one biker was enough for me and meeting an entire charter sounded even worse. I met one, basically two of them and they seem nice, but I don’t think that’s really how they are. We pulled up in the parking lot around midnight. Juice helped me get my bag and we headed to the clubhouse. Silently I wished it’ll be empty since it was that late, but I was wrong. Maybe it wasn’t crowded, but when we entered, the hot smell of alcohol and cigarettes hit me as if I walked to a crowded bar in a big city. Everybody got quiet and all eyes were on me. Chibs stood up and walked to me, patting my shoulder lightly.
- Hello sweetie. I believe you looked better last time I saw you.
- Oh thanks, nice to see you too, now shove off - I said before thinking about it
At least I didn’t say fuck off.
- I knew you were a good one when I first met you - he laughed and went back to the couch
I looked around and saw that they’re not staring at me now, when I walked through the room everyone greeted me, like they actually were friendly. Juice told me to sit next to Chibs since I already knew him and he went to get Jax.
- Oh hello - said the man with curly hair I saw at the hospital - I’m Tig.
- I remembered that - I smiled lightly - I’m y/n.
- Well, so you’re Juice’s girl, huh?
- Okay, I don’t know what he told you, but we’re just friends - I was pretty annoyed by hearing it again, not knowing what Juice was saying about me
- Actually he told us nothing about you. We tried asking him but he only said that you’re from Lodi, nothing more. But now - his blue eyes wandered around my face and body, tracing all the visible bruises - what happened?
- Just a few scratches, Juice insisted that I should see a doctor so here I am, waiting for Tara.
- But who did it?
- Thanks for your worries Tig, but that’s not important.
- I’ll get you a beer, huh? - he smiled and walked up to the bar
Actually a beer is a good idea.
- Listen - I turned to Chibs immediately when I heard his voice - I know you’re not comfortable here and you don’t want to talk about it, but we need to know who did that. You’re a friend to a club now, we’ll help you.
- Juice helped me already - I shrugged my shoulders
- So you’re sure that this person won’t find you here?
- Uh, well - but I never finished
Juice came in with Jax and gave me a hand to help me get up.
- Jesus Christ… - Jax gently wrapped his hands around me as a welcome - Are you allright? Tara will be here soon, she’ll take care of you.
- I’m sorry Jax, I didn’t want to come here in her free time. I’m really grateful she’ll come.
- That’s not a problem.
- Now - Juice looked more serious then ever - can you give me your phone?
- My phone? Why do you need it?
- I need to make sure he won’t bother you again, your phone can help me find him. And don’t say you don’t want me to do that, I’ll find him either way, we can’t risk him coming back.
I didn’t know what to say, I never thought this could happen. Juice bringing me here should keep me safe.
- I’ll come with you - said a long haired man sitting at the table besides us, he greeted me with the warmest smile saying his name’s Bobby
- I’ll go too - said Chibs standing up slowly
- Count me in - Jax nodded looking at me
- If you have so many volunteers - Tig came back with our beers - I’ll stay here, keep an eye on the girls.
- Okay, so we’re all set - Jax smiled at me again - Tara will be here any minute, then we can go.
I sat on the couch, glued to Juice’s side when they were talking about some random shit, I couldn’t focus on the conversation thinking about what was going to happen. When all of them got in an argument about Tig’s hair I felt Juice’s eyes landing on me. Bringing my head up I looked at him and he put his hand on my cheek sending me a warming smile.
- Are you going to kill him? - I asked seriously, keeping my eyes on his
- We’ll do what’s necessary - he kissed my forehead
- Don’t do this - I shyly tried to push him away
- And why is that? - I looked around the room - I told you they don’t give a fuck.
And they actually didn’t. No one was even looking at us. I took a sip of my beer realising it’s almost empty.
- Another one? - Juice asked and I just nodded
When he left I looked around the room again, how can they all be so calm? My eyes stopped at a woman coming through the door. She also saw me, gave me a welcoming smile and came up to me.
- And you must be y/n. I’m Tara, nice to meet you. Let’s go clean you up.
She leaded me to a smaller room and closed the door. I looked around at the wooden table and chairs around it. Tara encouraged me to sit down and opened her bag, starting to clean the cuts on my face.
- I’m sorry you had to come here, I really wanted to do this myself but Juice got stubborn.
- Don’t worry, I help the club when I can, wanna tell me what happened?
I couldn’t say anything because the door opened and Jax came in saying that they’re ready to go. He gave Tara a kiss and told her to take care of me, after that he was gone and we stayed alone again.
- So? - she continued - it doesn’t look like a little fight with a friend.
She seemed so peaceful that I decided to shorten the story for her. She looked at me from time to time but never interrupted. When I finished she stopped for a moment and looked me in the eyes.
- I know what you’re going through, trust me. The guys will take care of him and you’ll be safe, it’ll be okay. Let them do what they have to, before it’s too late.
I didn’t know what to say, just kept looking at the door not wanting to catch her sight again.
- Good news, your nose is not broken, but it may bleed from time to time. And about your wrists-
- Oh, probably nothing happened, I’ve actually had problems with my wrists for a few years now.
- Yeah, I can see that, you should think about a surgery. None of your ribs are broken too, but it looks bad, so I’ll come again and see what’s going on in a few days. For now you’re okay - she smiled while packing her bag - I’m really sorry, wanted to stay with you but our babysitter called and I need to go home.
- Oh sure, you should be home right after you finished work. Thank you again for all you did for me, I really appreciate that.
She smiled and opened the door for me. I instantly came to sit with Tig since he was the only one here I “knew”.
- You look better now, hope you also feel that way - he handed me a beer
- Do you drink here all day long or is today any special?
- There are no limits about drinking here, don’t worry.
He was actually nice and pretty funny. All of them were, maybe it’s not going to be as bad as I thought. We talked for about 40 minutes before they came back and I actually enjoyed our conversation. I felt pretty safe here. That’s weird. When boys came through the door I felt shivers on my body. Knives and guns at their belts, bruises and scratches everywhere, they just looked scary.
- It’s all done, you don’t have to worry about him anymore - Jax said with a smile - but I think you should stay here, at least ‘till tomorrow.
- He’s right, come on - Juice got my bag and gave me his hand
I followed him through the hall and entered his room. It was much cleaner than I thought and kinda cozy. If you can say a room at a clubhouse is cozy. I went through my bag to find a T-shirt and matching shorts to sleep in. Juice helped me with a shirt and put my bag back on the floor.
- I’m going to take a shower now, you can change here. The covers are clean, don’t worry - he laughed as he closed the bathroom door behind him
I changed my jeans to shorts and crawled under the covers. The bed was much more comfortable that it looked, but maybe it was just because I was really tired. I tried not to drift away waiting for Juice to come back. When he finally opened the door quietly and made sure I’m not asleep he sat down next to me and grabbed my hand.
- You’re safe here y/n, everything will be fine. Aren’t you hungry?
- I don’t know.
- How can you don’t know? - he laughed softly
- I mean, I probably won’t eat anything, you know.
- Are you sure? I can get you something.
- I’m good - I felt my eyes closing
- Okay, so goodnight - I felt him getting up and opened my eyes again
- Are you not going to stay with me? - he froze
- Do you want me to stay?
- Well… - he raised his eyebrow - yeah, okay. I want you to stay.
He said nothing and laid down next to me, but still keeping some distance, so I decided to shorten it. Rested my head on his arm and smiled when he kissed my forehead again. That felt nice, I love feeling his body next to mine. He gently traced all my face features with his fingers, not leaving any detail, while I slowly fell asleep feeling his hot breath in my hair.
24 notes · View notes
drabbles-mc · 2 years
Text
Home Safe
Juice Ortiz x GN!Reader
Request by Anon: From your prompt lists can we get fluff 6, “I can’t believe you’re real and mine,” and smut 7, “i know, baby, I know,” with juicey boy and f!reader pretty please?? Thank you and I hope you’re having a great day! (Prompts are from This List)
Warnings: 18+, fluffy soft goodness
Word Count: 1.4k
A/N: I know that the request was for f!reader but this felt doable for me to do a gender-neutral reader, so that’s what I did! Loved writing this softness for our boy. Hope you enjoy!
SOA Taglist: @garbinge @masterlistforimagines @espieviolet99 @mijop @chibsytelford @thanossexual @xladymacbethx @i-just-read-stuff @bport76 @toni9 @unicornucopia-fuckers @buckybarneshairpullingkink @shadow-of-wonder @punkgoddess-98 @paintballkid711 @black-repunzel99 @lexondeck @jitterbugs927​ @fanfic-n-tabulous​ @mijagif​ @frattsparty​ @winchestershiresauce​ @bellisperennis0​ @crowfootwrites​ @redpoodlern​ @beardburnsupersoldiers​ @mveggieburger​ @xeniarocks​ @choochoo284​ @littlekittymeow​ @beardsanddetectives​ @juicyortiz​ @bruxasolta​ @i-love-scott-mccall​ @be-my-dear​ @withmyteeth​ @passionatewrites​ (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)
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You’d been half-asleep when your phone began buzzing on the pillow beside your head, the pillow that had been cold for much longer than you liked. Club business was taking longer than the guys all bargained for, which was par for the course these days, but it still left a knot in your stomach until you finally got the message that they were all safe and on their way home. Which was why even though you weren’t fully conscious, your hand flew and grabbed your phone with no hesitation. It took an extra few beats to get the words out, to get your brain to work, but you answered.
You cleared your throat, though it did nothing to make you sound any less groggy, “Hello?”
Even though he laughed, you could hear the exhaustion in Juice’s voice, “Hey, baby. Sorry I woke you up.”
“No,” you rubbed at your eyes with your free hand, “I wasn’t asleep…all the way.”
He laughed, “Still. Sorry it’s so late.”
“Everything okay?”
“Yea,” along with the tiredness, there was relief in his voice, “Just got to the clubhouse. I’ll be heading home in a few.”
“Yea?”
You could hear the smile on his face, “Yea.”
“I’ll unlock the door for you.”
“No,” he chuckled, “Stay in bed. I have my keys—it’s fine.”
“Okay,” you paused, butterflies still in your stomach despite all the time that had gone by, “I love you. Ride safe.”
“I love you too.”
You didn’t get out of bed, but you felt the exhaustion quickly dissolving from your body now that you knew Juice was on his way home. No matter how many times you told him to ride safe, you knew that he always went a little faster than usual when he was riding home after a run. You chastised him but part of you enjoyed it, that extra determination to get home to you as quickly as possible.
Even from the other end of the house, you could hear the sound of the front door opening. Your eyes were closed as you laid tucked up in bed, but the smile on your face grew. Rolling so that you were facing the bedroom door, you waited for him to appear. The sound of his boots against the hardwood slowly but steadily got a little louder with each stride towards the room. Your house wasn’t that big, the hall wasn’t that long, but that walk always seemed like it took him forever and a day on nights like this.
But then he was there. You smiled, propping yourself up so that you were resting on your elbows. He chuckled and shook his head, more than relieved to be home with you, the sight of you tangled up in blankets with an old shirt on of his made his heart soften after all the chaos he’d been through. The grin on his face was still genuine no matter how tired he was.
He quickly slipped out of his boots, shrugging off his kutte before flopping onto the bed with you. He didn’t even take the time to change out of his jeans and t-shirt that he’d come home in—he just wanted to hold you. He wasted no time in hooking his arms underneath yours and pulling you tight to his chest. You burrowed your face into the crook of his neck, wrapping your arms around him as you did so. Neither of you said anything for a moment, just taking a few deep breaths and enjoying the fact that you finally got to hold each other again.
Pulling back, you pressed your lips to his in a searing kiss, hand sliding up to cradle the back of his head as you did. You felt his fingertips pressing harder into your back, trying to find a way to pull you closer still. His lips moved hungrily against yours, trying to make up for lost time.
When you finally pulled away, you searched his eyes, trying to make sure that everything was really okay. Tracing your thumb along his cheek, you said, “That was way longer than three days.”
His laugh was soft, tired, “I know, baby, I know. I’m sorry.”
You shook your head, “Don’t be sorry,” you paused, “You’re alright, though?”
He nodded, “I’m good. I’m just, you know,” his hand ran up and down your back, “I’m glad I’m home.”
You smiled, pressing a soft, brief kiss on his lips, “Me too.”
The two of you shifted around slightly on the mattress, trying to get as comfortable as possible. Juice didn’t slither underneath the blankets with you, still didn’t change out of his clothes from the day. Instead, he just rested his head against your chest and wrapped his arms around you, not caring that they’d end up losing feeling if you two laid like that for too long. You smiled, resting one hand on his back between his shoulder blades, and the other on the back of his head, your fingers raking gently over the short hair of his mohawk, over the stubble growing in on the sides of his head that he hadn’t been able to shave while he was on the road.
His breathing started to slow, and you could feel him relaxing more as he continued to lay on you. You would lay there and stare at him forever if you could. It wasn’t like you never got to have these moments, but there was something extra precious about them when he was coming back from a long stint away. He was always tired and clingy, always more soft than usual.
You were starting to think that he might’ve fallen asleep but then you heard him take a deep breath, his voice gravelly as he asked, “How were things here?”
You smiled, your hands gently roaming over his body of their own accord as you spoke, “Fine. It’s always too quiet here when you’re gone.”
“Am I that loud?” he chuckled, still not lifting his head from your chest.
“No, no,” you pressed a kiss to his head, “Well. Only when you play video games,” you gave him a light squeeze, “I just mean it feels more like home when you’re here. That’s all.”
He let out a quiet hum of approval, “Oh. Okay.”
You chuckled, “Okay.”
The room fell quiet again, just the sounds of an occasional deep breath coming from one of you. For as tired as Juice was, he knew that he wasn’t going to be falling asleep anytime soon. Whenever he came home from a run, especially one that went sideways and dragged on like that one had, he tried to stay awake for a while no matter how tired he was. There was something different about the comfort during that first night being home again.
Your hands began to slow, and eventually they stilled completely. Lifting his head, Juice looked up at you, smiling at the sight of you passed out beneath him. He managed to pull his arms out from underneath you without waking you, wiggling his fingers to try and get the feeling back into them. He started to pull away so he could get up off the bed, but you groaned, reaching out even in your sleep to pull him close to you again. He chuckled, bracing himself and carefully maneuvering out of your grasp.
Only then did he finally shed his jeans and t-shirt. Walking around to his side of the bed, he pulled the blanket back just enough to be able to crawl in beside you. He wedged himself up against you, draping one arm over your stomach as his head rested by your shoulder.
The contact began to stir you from your sleep. Your eyes were still heavy, barely open, but you still turned to look where he was laying. A sleepy smile crossed your face when you saw the way that he was looking at you. Your voice was hoarse as you whispered, “What?”
He kissed your shoulder, “You.”
“Me?”
“Yea,” he pulled himself a little tighter to you, “you. I just, you know, I can’t believe you’re real and mine.”
You hummed in approval as your eyes started to drift the rest of the way shut again, “Better start believing it. I love you.”
Relief coursed through his chest at the words. Finally letting his eyes close, he said, “I love you too.”
143 notes · View notes
drakoneve · 6 months
Text
Sons of Anarchy Masterlist
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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...
83 notes · View notes
narcolini · 1 year
Text
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)
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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.
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Okay, one more ask before bed.... Juice, Smut, "Tell me you're mine."
You are doing wonders for my self-esteem as a writer!!
Drabble Masterlist
Sinful Skin
Contains: Smut, possessive Juice.
359 words
Comment if you want to be tagged/removed
A short skirt at a bike show makes Juice extra possessive
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There was something about the way the red silk shirt swished in the light wind that was driving Juice wild, it ended just after your ass and Juice was catching glimpses of your upper thighs with each wave of the breeze.
Jax tapped Juice on the shoulder and pointed to the hang around whose eyes were locked on your legs, Juice came over with a beer in hand and wrapped his arms around your shoulder, "what are you talking about gorgeous?"
You smiled, "T-M, Mr Tibbs here is looking for a job so I figured I'd talk up the best joint in town."
Juice looked the man up and down, "yeah, I'm sure Jax will appreciate that. You want a drink?"
You shook your head, "no thanks, is something wrong?"
Juice's eyes were hard as they met the hand around who was watching you from the other side of the compound, "everything's all good, come to the dorm with me, it's getting a bit chilli for what you're wearing." You went to protest but Juice was already pulling you away, as you entered the dorm, Juice closed the door, with force too.
"You don't think I know what you're doing?"
You did your best to seem innocent, "I don't know what you're talking about."
Juice pressed you up against the door and leaned in, his warm lips brushing your neck. "You come to the party in this red number and make nice with everything with a cock just to get my attention."
You pressed your lips together, "you must be mistaken, I'm wearing this because I know it's your favourite."
Juice smirked, "yeah it is, and if you ever want to wear it again, you should take it off before I rip it off."
You shoved the skirt down your legs and stood there smiling, "anything else?"
Juice nodded, "tell me you're mine."
You shook your head, "make me."
Juice's smirk widened, "careful now."
You bit your lip, "what are you going to do, spank me?"
Juice nipped your neck, "no, but I'm going to fuck you so hard that all those assholes out there will know you're mine."
Fin
More Juice, I love it!
@sadandgeek
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abbatoirablaze · 2 years
Text
Teller Morrow Tragedy, Season 1 Master List
This series is complete! ✔
Based around Season 1 of Sons of Anarchy.
The Teller-Morrow Clan have one saying: What doesn't kill you makes you stronger. And through JT being dragged by a semi, the loss of Thomas to the family defect, the countless run-ins with the law, addictions, and the loss of Missy from her unfortunate suicide; what's left standing is two very tough sisters: Amanda and Alicia Morrow.
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Alicia, has a successful career as a lawyer in Charming, while assisting Judge Hale. She's a (somewhat single) mom of 3 to two boys and a girl: Mikayla and Cain Teller, and Declan Telford. When she's not chasing around her kids or researching for a court case, she's often at the club, keeping her own 'man' in line.
Amanda, is a recovering heroin addict and tech savvy teen who has a secret relationship with Juice Ortiz...only, both her older sister and her niece Mikayla know about it. But they haven't told Clay because they really don't want to watch him shred the poor kid.
But these two sisters have barely made it past their own demons when they're thrown into another series of them.
Warnings: This story is a dark story. Includes themes like violence (gun/knife/bombs), murder, mentions of suicide, illegal activities, drugs, underage relationships, blackmail, and self-harm. There will be individual warnings on each chapter.
This is also a multi-POV story from any character within the series. It'll be marked in each Chapter as well.
I broke this up by episode so that's kind of the timeline to follow.
Chapters
2008--Episode 1
Chapter 1: Mandy/Alicia's POV
Chapter 2: Tig/Juice's POV
Episode 2
Chapter 3: Gemma/Alicia's POV
Chapter 4: Tig/Jax's POV
Episode 3
Chapter 5: Jax/Mandy/Juice's POV
Episode 4
Chapter 6: Mandy/Clay/Juice's POV
Episode 5
Chapter 7: Gemma/Esai's POV
Chapter 8: Opie/Mandy's POV
Episode 6
Chapter 9: Alicia/Juice's POV
Chapter 10: Gemma/Mandy/Alicia's POV
Episode 7
Chapter 11: Mandy/Clay's POV,
Chapter 12: Cain/Jax's POV
Episode 8
Chapter 13: Esai/Juice/Jax's POV
Episode 9
Chapter 14: Gemma/Mandy/Juice/Esai/Marcus' POV
Episode 10
Chapter 15: Agent Stahl/Alicia's POV
Episode 11
Chapter 16: Wendy/Gemma's POV
Episode 12
Chapter 17: Alicia/Juice's POV
Episode 13
Chapter 18: Gemma/Juice's POV
Chapter 19: Alicia/Hale's POV
Chapter 20: Jax/Clay's POV
Season 2
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garbinge · 7 months
Text
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
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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.” 
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