#theo rossi | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cloveroctobers · 2 months

Text

FEBRUARY FLUFF — JUAN “JUICE” ORTIZ.

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

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

જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩

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

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

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

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

You were just what he needed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you?”

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

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

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

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

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

Yeah that’s highschool stupidity for you!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The famous excuse for it all so it seems!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Which hurt to hear.

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

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

He gives you a lopsided smile, “Thanks.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And be wasteful of this beautiful gift?”

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

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

“Oh is that right?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And what do we call this meal?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That soon became Juan’s job.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“…I don’t follow.”

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

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

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

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

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

You instantly reply, “Never could.”

“No?”

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

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

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

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

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

“What—no—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I could—

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

“You want to be mine, Ortiz?”

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

“Only if I get to be yours.”

“Fuck yeah!”

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

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

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

જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩

February fluff anthology series continues here.

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

61 notes · View notes

bullet-prooflove · 4 months

Text

This is the Year: Juan 'Juice' Ortiz x Reader

Part of @storiesofsvu Holiday Bingo! The square was Resolutions!

Tagging: @stydiaswish @goosterroose @crazy4chickennuggets @kmc1989 @withakindheartx @darqchilddaydreamz

Juice doesn’t believe in New Year’s resolutions. He’s made them plenty of times over the years, but he’s never been able to stick to it. That is until he meets you.

He’s sitting on the swings by the clubhouse when midnight comes around, a beer clasped in his hand. His gaze shifts to Tig whose standing on the porch, his arm looped around Suzie’s waist, his thumb ghosting over her cheek. Those silver rings contrast against her skin as he tips her chin up and kisses her. There’s so much love between the two of them, there has been from the start and now the two of them have a baby.

Juice wants that, he wants to feel like he matters to someone, to love them and be loved in return.

This is the year, I do it. He promises himself as he watches the fireworks erupt throughout the night sky. This is the year he asks you out.

It started in late November in the botanical gardens. Tig had been doing a lot of treks across the country, smoothing out the Sons withdrawal from the gun game. Suzie was getting big, trying to finish up work at Cara, Cara before maternity leave started. She was finding it hard to walk Bonnie. Juice had offered to help out, he loved animals especially dogs. He’d started taking Bonnie to the botanical gardens. He’d read up on scent walks, how they were mentally relaxing for dogs. He thought that it may help with the healing process after everything she’d been through with the dog fighting ring.

The two of them had gotten into a routine. They’d go to the gardens, and she’d have a sniff around, explore for a bit before they played with the ball launcher. After that they’d chill under a tree, get some doggie ice cream, people watch and play tug.

They’ve been doing this for a couple of weeks before he notices you. The pretty girl on the bench with the sketch book. He’s always been fascinated by creatives, he’s more mechanical minded, good with his hands. It’s the reason he’s so good with computers and with engines, there’s something about them that just makes sense to him. He catches your eye, and you give him that smile. The one that makes his entire world light up.

It's April when the roses come into bloom, it gives the botanical gardens a new lease of life. Bonnie’s in her element, there’s new smells to explore. The dog has come out of her shell so much over the past few months that Tig’s asked him to continue with the dog walking. Both him and Suzie are busy with the new baby, they want to make sure Bonnie doesn’t get left out.

It’s Bonnie that makes the first move, the gardeners have been rearranging some of the plants, adding new ones. You just so happen to be seated alongside of one of them, the lead slips out of his grasp as she takes off bee-lining towards it. He hauls ass after her, calling her name. When he eventually catches up, she’s seated in front of you, tongue lolling out of her mouth as you shower her with attention.

“Sorry, sorry.” He apologises, scooping up the leash. “There’s a lot of new smells, she gets excited.”

“I get it.” You tell him. “My friend’s dog is the same. We usually come out here in the evenings, play a little, it’s a good wind down.”

“You like dogs?” Juice asks as he scratches behind Bonnie’s ears.

“Sometimes more than I like people.” You say with a smile.

He laughs because honestly, he feels the same way.

“Hey, let me buy you a coffee.” He says, tipping his head towards the coffee cart by the fountain. “You can tell me a little more about your friend’s dog.”

That’s how it starts. He learns that you’re an artist, that you teach adult classes at the local college throughout the day and some evenings. You come to the botanical gardens to get to some versatility, drawing nature throughout the seasons, sometimes you draw people. You flick through the pages of your sketchbook, showing him different depictions of the same space. It transforms throughout the year, sometimes the shading changes, you add shadows. It grows, it develops, it becomes something more.

“I prefer painting.” You tell him when the two of you head out on one of your evening dog walks. Bonnie and Misha, the Cockapoo are checking out the trail ahead as you walk side by down, sipping hot chocolates from the coffee cart. “I just love working with colour, seeing the difference it makes, the contrast.”

“You have such passion.” He tells you as his thumb chases up the side of the takeaway cup.

“What are you passionate about?” You ask him, your shoulder bumping against his.

“Honestly?” He asks, taking a gulp of his caramel hot chocolate.

“Yea.” You say with that enthusiastic grin of yours. “What gets you up in the morning? What do you live and breathe?”

“Engines.” He tells you, shrugging his shoulders as you laugh. “I don’t know what to say! When I start stripping down a bike and I put my hands to work, something in me just clicks. It’s like the whole world makes sense. I just focus on the task, the nuts and bolts of it and I don’t know…” he trails off for a second as he tries to find the words. “It’s soothing you know?”

“That’s how I feel about painting.” You tell him, your gaze on the two dogs as they snuffle in one of the bushes. “I couldn’t do it for a while, a couple of years ago and it drove me absolutely crazy.”

“I noticed the scars.” Juice remarks gesturing at your right arm. “You broke your arm at one point?”

“What’s Misha got?” You say, quickening your step before you call out for the dog to ‘drop it’.

The walks turn to dinner dates, which turn to late night bike rides because sometimes he can’t sleep, and he discovers that you can’t either. You feel so good against him, your arms wrapped around his waist, your cheek pressed against his back. It’s after one of these rides that you invite him inside and he knows it’s not just for coffee.

He makes love to you in fresh sheets, in a room that’s filled with canvases and colour. His fingers entwin with yours, your thighs hitching around his waist as he loves you like he’s loved no one else. Your fingertips chase over the scars on his back, the ones from where he was shivved in prison.

You know that’s one of the reasons he doesn’t sleep sometimes. He dreams about that day, of the shiv plunging into him, the blood dripping onto the concrete underneath his feet.

Your palms trail down the curve of his spine, caressing his ass before you draw him even deeper, and he moans into your mouth because until then he’s tried to be a gentleman but you…

You untether him completely.

It’s playful, sensual and soft. He smiles as you bite his lower lip because his baby, she knows exactly what she wants and it’s him. When you shatter underneath him, it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. He comes hard, his hips flush against yours as he drinks down your pleasure.

Another year, another New Year’s party.

Juice steals you away before midnight, breaking into the botanical gardens where the two of you first met. He lays down a picnic blanket so that you can watch the fireworks in peace.

It’s perfect, this moment, lying beneath the stars with the woman he loves.

He’s been carrying the ring around with him since he bought it a couple of weeks, just waiting for the right time and he knows now in his heart that this is it.

He says your name as he props himself up, withdrawing the ring from his pocket. You tilt your head towards him as he holds it up.

“Simone, I love you.” He tells you, the earnestness shining in his features. “Let me spend the rest of my life making you as happy as you make me.

“Juan…”

He just loves the way you say his name. You’re the only one that gets to call him that, the only one he lets call him that.

“Juan, I can’t.”

His world crashes in on him. The ring slips from between his fingers tumbling onto the blanket and getting lost in the folds. Everything goes numb, he feels the emptiness flood through his body as you reach for him, your thumb ghosting across his cheek. It’s just an intimate gesture, and it hurts so fucking much.

“It’s not you.” You tell him, your voice cracking. “It’s me, it’s entirely me.”

The story comes out in stops and starts and Juice’s heart breaks with every single word. You can’t marry him, of course you can’t, because you’re still married to the abusive asshole who used to beat the hell out of you.

It’s the reason you left Seattle and came to Charming.

You’d ran after he’d smacked you around so hard, he’d shattered your right arm. He’s the reason it aches when it rains, the reason you had to stop painting a couple of years ago.

“I never divorced him.” You tell Juice as you sit on the picnic blanket with your knees drawn up to your chest. “If I do, he’ll find me…”

Your eyes sting, the tears leaking down your cheeks. You let out a shaky exhale before you raise your eyes to the sky.

“It’s over, right?” You say as you use the back of your hand to chase away the tears.

“No.” Juice says quietly as he sits beside you. “Not if you don’t want it to be.”

“I can’t give you what you want,” You say softly, toying with the beaded bracelet on your wrist. “I can’t be your wife.”

He gathers you up into his arms, drawing you into the comfort of his body. If he could take this all away for you he would, but he can’t because your history is what brought you here to him. His love for you, that’s unconditional, it doesn’t matter what label you put on it. He’s yours, for better or for worse.

“I don’t need a wife,” He whispers against your hair line as he cradles you close. “I just need you.”

Love Juice? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee