#soa!juice

[mysticalmallard]

♥︎ Defending Their Girlfriend ♥︎

🦆:These were all supposed to be drabbles, but I got a bit carried away, so they are more like oneshots and I didn't want to edit any of them down. Because they all came out so long I've only done Jax, Juice, Kozik, Tig and Chibs. I may do a separate one another time for Happy and Opie if that is something you guys want ♥︎

SoA Taglist: @arkytiorlecter @aimkatsz @ravennaortiz @darqchilddaydreamz @mischiefnevermanaged89-blog @hatersaremymotivators @theshynerdsworld @thefrogytimes @youngadult9016 @meera10

♥︎ If you wish to be added or removed from this taglist comment or message me ♥︎

⚠️ Warnings ⚠️ : VIOLENCE, ABUSIVE BEHAVIOUR, SEXUAL ASSAULT, CREEPY MAN, SEXIST men, swearing and other general SoA Warnings there is nothing too graphic but if you don't like reading about any of the topics listed please DO NOT read the rest of this post!!!, ONLY YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE for your OWN media consumption!!! ⚠️

SoA Masterlist || Main Masterlist

Jax

On a hot summer night, Jax and his girlfriend were out for a night walk, enjoying the quiet streets of Charming together.

As they walked, a group of young men, all of them a little tipsy on alcohol, passed by. One of the men catcalled Jax's girlfriend as they walked by, making a crude and sexist comment.

Jax took immediate offense, gritting his teeth in anger. He stepped up to the man, who looked startled by the tall, furious biker suddenly in his face.

"Excuse me?" Jax growled, his eyes locking onto the man who had made the inappropriate comment.

The man took a step back when he spots the club patches, suddenly realizing who Jax was.

"N-nothing, man, it's cool," the man stuttered out, trying to backpedal. But Jax wasn't satisfied he was already too angry. The other guys had stopped and were starting to circle, realizing the situation was getting heated.

"Oh, it's *not cool*, man," Jax said in a dangerous tone, his eyes flickering to the other guys slowly surrounding them. Jax wasn't worried, though - he lived for this. The tension in his body made it clear he was ready to defend his girlfriend, his pride at stake.

His girlfriend tugs at his sleeve worried "Jax it's okay...let's just go"

"Nah, this isn't okay, babe," Jax responds, his voice firm but gentle. He turns his head to look at his girlfriend, seeing the hint of worry in her eyes. He softens slightly. "He's disrespecting you. Me. *Us*."Jax turns his attention back to the man who started this whole thing. "You need to apologize. Now," he demands, his voice a low rumble, his eyes fixated firmly on the guy.

The man, still looking nervous but a little bolder behind his friends, scoffs and throws a cocky grin. "And if I don't?" He asks in a mocking tone.

Jax's eyes narrow, anger flaring again. He closes the space between them, getting right in the man's face. "Then you're gonna have a huge problem on your hands." The threat in Jax's voice is clear.

The man shoves Jax back when he gets in his face Jax stumbles back, but catches himself quickly, the shove only adding more fuel to his anger. He takes a step forward again, his shoulders squared swinging at him connecting with the man's jaw.

The man falls backward, clearly not expecting Jax to strike so quickly. The other men hesitate, not expecting to deal with a fight.

Jax stands over the man, glaring down at him. "Don't ever disrespect my girlfriend again," he snarls.

The man is clutching his face, a look of fear in his eyes as he looks up at Jax. He nods shakily. "S-sorry, man," he stutters out, clearly intimidated.

"Now apologize to my girlfriend," Jax's tone is firm. He's not backing down until the guy apologizes properly.

The man looks up at Jax's girlfriend, shame on his face. He mutters a quick, "Sorry, ma'am."

Jax's girlfriend looks relieved, but she's clings onto Jax's arm standing close to his side, clearly still feeling uncertain about the situation.

Jax looks down at her, silently asking if she's okay with the half-apology. She nods slowly, looking somewhat reassured.

Then, Jax looks back at the man on the ground, eyeing the other men who are still standing around, ready to step in if necessary.

"This is your only warning. Don't say that kind of shit again." Jax's voice is cold and firm. The message is clear - he won't tolerate anyone disrespecting his girlfriend like that again.

Juice

Juice and his girlfriend were sitting on the couch in his living room watching tv, when suddenly, she received a phone call from her parents. She reluctantly answers already knowing what they were gonna say. They were trying to convince her to end her relationship with Juice. Juice overheard bits of the conversation and could feel the tension in the room. He knew that they disapproved of their relationship.

Juice squeezed a pillow in frustration, but he couldn't just sit there and let her parents talk her out of their relationship without a fight.

He took the phone from her hand and took a deep breath before speaking. "Hey, I know you don't approve of this relationship, but I love her and I'm not going to let you talk her out of being with me without giving me a fair shot."

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone, but he could hear her parents murmuring in the background. They clearly didn't like his interruption.

"Listen I am sure you have some good qualities or our daughter wouldn't date you, but we don't want her dating some criminal thug from a motorcycle gang," her father said, his voice filled with disapproval.

Juice clenched his jaw, stung by the man's words. He couldn't help but feel the anger rising within him, but he tried to keep his cool.

"I may be in a motorcycle club, but I am not some mindless thug. I have a brain, I have a heart, and I have feelings just like anyone else, and i love your daughter sir...I don't know what she sees in me to be honest with you...she could have anyone she wants and she chose me...but I am going to stay with her as long as she wants me to be" he said with clenched teeth.

There was another moment of silence on the other end of the phone as her parents continued to murmur in the background.

Juice could feel the tension building up inside him, but he was determined to prove that he was worthy of her love. He glanced back at his girlfriend, who was sitting on the couch beside him, her eyes watching him intently. She gave him a small smile, knowing that he was defending their relationship fiercely. He smiled back at her before turning his attention back to the phone.

Her father spoke up again, his voice now filled with a hint of annoyance. "Look kid, we just don't want our daughter mixed up in some dangerous lifestyle. Motorcycle clubs are not known for their stability or their law-abiding ways, and we don't want her getting hurt or in trouble."

Juice took a deep breath before responding, his voice firm and steady. "I understand your concerns, sir, but my club is not like that. We have rules and structure and we take care of our own. We don't just go around causing trouble for the hell of it."

"But you DO cause trouble, don't you?...you say you love our daughter, but you can't, not if you want her involved in that lifestyle," her father says matter-of-factly.

Juice closes his eyes and sighs, stung by her father's words. He knew that her father had a point. His life in the club was dangerous, and he had seen firsthand how it could cause harm to those he cared about. But he couldn't deny his love for her. He couldn't just easily walk away from her.

" I know the life isn't perfect, sir, and yes, sometimes there is trouble, but I promise you I would never let anything happen to your daughter. I would protect her with my life. And as far as loving your daughter...I do, I love her more than I could even explain to her...but i am gonna try my best to show her every damn day"

Her father was silent for a moment, as if contemplating his words. Juice could hear him talking to his wife in the background, but he couldn't make out what they were saying. He waited anxiously for his response, his heart beating faster in his chest.

Finally, her father spoke up, his voice slightly more compassionate than before. "Look son, we love our daughter and we just want what's best for her. We want her to be happy and safe, and we're afraid this life you're involved in will only bring her pain."

"Come visit let me show you, meet me atleast before jumping to conclusions with gossip you hear from people who don't know me or the club....your daughter loves you guys so much and I don't want us being together creating tension in your relationship with her" he sighs down the phone trying to find someway of fixing things.

Her father was silent for a moment, mulling over Juice's invitation. He could hear him speaking to his wife in the background, and Juice could only hope that he was coming around.

Finally, her father spoke up again, his voice filled with resignation. " Fine, we'll come meet you. But we're only doing this for our daughter's sake, not yours."

"Fine with me, sir," is all he says before hanging up.

His girlfriend scoots over to him. "What did they say? They weren't rude were they? I swear I've told them so many times the club isn't a gang but they don't listen" She rattles off nervous to what was said.

He gently holds her face, looking in her eyes to get her to stop rambling. "Hey, hey, don't worry about it," he says, trying to soothe her. "It was a little rough at first, but I managed to calm them down. They agreed to come meet me."

"They did?" She asks in disbelief. "How did you manage that? I've asked before, but they said they were too busy"

He laughs softly, amused by her surprise. "I can be pretty convincing when I want to be," he jokes. "I just spoke my mind and made it clear I was serious about you. And I guess your dad didn't want to stand in the way of his baby girl's happiness."

He tightens his arms around her, pulling her into a tight hug. He can feel the warmth of her body against his and the softness of her hair against his cheek. He nuzzles his face into the crook of her neck, inhaling her familiar scent.

"I'm here for you," he whispers, his voice low and intense. "I'll always have your back."

Herman Kozik

Kozik pulled up to his girlfriend's house but as he pulled up he saw her standing outside with her ex. The ex was yelling and she was crying, with tears streaming down her face. Kozik gets off his bike and could immediately sense the tension in the air.

The ex, noticing Kozik's presence, turned and scowled at him. "Who the fuck are you?" he spat.

"I'm her boyfriend," Kozik replied, trying to keep his cool. "And you need to back off from her, man."

The ex's face contorted into a sneer. "Boyfriend?" he said, his voice dripping with venom. He turns back to her "are fucking kidding me with this shit?...huh? we were just having a little spat and you go and sleep with some biker dickhead..huh? I always thought you were a bit of a whore but really? I give you your space and you treat me like this?.." With every word the ex steps closer to her, she steps back as best she can away from him until she's against the building.

"w-we broke up. You kept cheating on me so I ended it. Its been 5 months...please just leave" she says shaking.

The ex lets out a scoff as he continues his advancement on her, he's just a few steps from her now. Kozik doesn't like the look on her face and steps between the two of them putting himself in front of her. "Back off man, I'm not going to tell you again." Kozik's tone is firm as he shoves him.

The ex stumbles back, a look of anger and disbelief on his face. "Who do you think you are, you biker trash?! You think you can come here and take my girl? She's mine!"

Kozik stands his ground, not backing down. "She's not your girl anymore, she's mine and she asked you to leave, so do it."

The ex takes a step forward, his hands balling into fists, "Or what, you're going to kick my ass? I'd like to see you try biker boy"

Kozik keeps his cool, staring the ex down. "I don't want to fight you man, but I will if you don't leave. She doesn't want you here."

Kozik looks over his shoulder at his girlfriend she looks terrified.

His voice softens, "Go inside love, i'll be in after" he says not wanting her nearby should things get violent.

She shakes her head softly glancing between them "n-no...please I don't want you to get hurt"

"I'll be fine baby please go inside" he pleads with her and she relents slowly walking around, the ex hurling insults at her as she goes when she goes to move past him he lunges forward grabbing her wrist causing her to scream.

The moment he touches her Kozik tackles him to the ground. He was caught off guard as Kozik takes him down. The Ex landed hard on the gravel, his back hitting the ground with an "oof". He tried to get up but Kozik was already on top of him, pinning him down.

"YOU DONT FUCKING TOUCH HER!" He screams in his face. The Ex tries to struggle against Kozik's hold, but it's no use. Kozik's grip is tight and strong.

"Get off me!" the Ex snarls, but Kozik just presses down harder, his face inches away from the Ex's. The ex turns his head to the girlfriend "you fucking see what you've done huh? You little whor-" Kozik doesn't let him finish punching him in the jaw.

"YOU SHUT UP DONT CALL HER THAT"

The ex let out a groan as Kozik punched him. His head slumped back into the gravel, reeling from the impact.

"You bastard!" he groaned, but Kozik didn't let up. He leaned forward, his face just inches away from the Ex's.

"You listen to me and you listen well," Kozik growls. "You're going to leave her alone. You're not going to speak to her, you're not going to call her names, and you're sure as hell not going to touch her again. Do. You. Understand?"

The Ex nods, his expression a mix of anger and fear. Kozik lets go of him and stands, taking a step back. The Ex sits up, his jaw sore, and glares up at her.

Kozik blocks his view standing in front of his trembling girlfriend.

The Ex gets to his feet, his hand rubbing his bruised jaw. "You think this is over?" he spits.

"It's over when she says it's over," Kozik replies, his voice hard and determined. "And she's already made it clear she doesn't want anything to do with you."

The Ex opens his mouth to reply but stops himself, his eyes darting between Kozik and his girlfriend. He clearly wants to say more, but he knows he's out matched.

"You're done here," Kozik says firmly. "So do yourself a favor and save yourself the beating and leave. Don't come back." Kozik stares him down, daring him to do something after a long while the ex stalks off back to his car across the street.

Kozik stays in a protective stance in front of her until the car disappears around the corner.

The moment he is out of sight he turn back to her. She's shaking, her eyes wide and tear-streaked. Kozik gently cups her face with his large, calloused hands, his expression softening.

"Baby, it's okay," he says soothingly. "He's gone. I'm here. You're safe now."

Kozik wraps his arms around her, holding her tight against him. He rubs soothing circles on her back, trying to calm her down.

"Shhh, it's alright love," he murmurs into her hair. "I got you. I got you."

They stand like that for a few moments, her clinging to him like a lifeline, him holding her close and protective. Finally, she pulls back a bit, looking up at him with tear-filled eyes. Kozik brushes the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs, his touch gentle and caring. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you, alright?"

Tig Trager

Tig was at her place when the doorbell rang. Tig, being the gentleman he is, answered it for her.

"May I help you, ma'am?" Tig inquired to the older woman waiting outside.

The old woman glares at him, her eyes narrowing as she looks him up and down. “You’re making too much noise! Always driving that loud motorcycle, playing music late at night. It’s completely disrespectful!”

Hearing the womans shrill voice his girlfriend comes up behind him knowing he has a short fuse with these kinds of things. "I'm sorry, we'll try to keep it down from now on" she says not wanting to cause any issues with her neighbour.

The old woman huffs, clearly not satisfied with the response. “You young people have no respect these days. In my day, we knew how to behave properly. But I guess your generation doesn’t care about how your actions affect others, do you?”

Tig’s temper is reaching its boiling point, but he manages to keep his cool for now. "Respect goes both ways, lady," he says, his tone cold and calculated. "We’ve been keeping the noise down as much as we can. Maybe you should try investing in some earplugs or something."

The old woman looks affronted by Tig’s response. “How dare you speak to me like that! I have lived here for years before she even considered buying that house, and I will not be disrespected by some biker thug!”

Tig’s temper ignites at her words. “Biker thug? You call me a thug?” he scoffs, his voice rising in anger. “I was a Marine. I fought for this country. What have you done besides sit in your rocking chair and complain?“

The old woman looks taken aback by his words, her eyes narrowing further. “I don’t care what you’ve done. You’re still making too much noise and disturbing the peace. Maybe she should consider moving if you can’t handle living in a civilized neighborhood.”

Tig’s fists clench at his sides as he struggles to keep his composure. "Civilized neighborhood? You call this place civilized when all you do is nag and complain? Maybe you should learn to mind your own damn business and stop worrying about how loud we are."

"You watch your tone, young man! I have the right to live in peace and quiet, and I will not let some criminal with a bad attitude tell me otherwise." The old lady’s eyes flash with anger.

Tig is on the verge of losing his temper completely. "Criminal? I’m not a criminal," he says through gritted teeth. "And you don’t have the right to tell her what she can do in her own home. We’ll keep the noise down as much as we can, but we won’t be silenced just because you don’t like how we live."

The old woman huffs again, clearly not satisfied with Tig’s response. "I’ll be watching you. One more loud noise and I’ll call the police and repor-."

Tig doesn't let her finish and just slams the door in her face mumbling under his breath "Damn old lady." He huffs, turning to face his girlfriend. "Can’t she mind her own damn business? People these days, I swear. I bet shes just all pissy cause she ain't getting any... do you think Piney would take one for the team?" he asks jokingly pulling a giggle from her. "But seriously," he continues, his expression turning serious. "Don’t let her give you any grief....but you know you would have any issues if you just live with me....we can be as loud as we want there." He says, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively putting his hands on her hips.

"I know, I know," she says, giggling again as she rolls her eyes at his antics. "And as tempting as that offer is... Its a little too soon for us baby...besides I dont think you can handle all this every day...do you think you could keep up old man." she says, running her hand over his chest.

He chuckles, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Oh, I can definitely handle it baby doll." He says, his hands moving up her sides. "I can keep up just fine. In fact, I could probably wear you out before you could wear me out." He grins, pulling her closer to him.

"Wanna prove it, Trager?" She challenges peering up at him through her lashes.

A sly smirk spreads across his face as he eyes her up and down, taking in her seductive curves. "You bet your sweet ass I do," he growls, his hand moving to her hip, pulling her flush against his body. He cups her chin, lifting her face up to meet his gaze. His eyes darken with desire as he leans down to her ear, his breath hot on her skin. "You're playing with fire, darlin'," he whispers, his voice low and rough. His arms snake around her waist, pulling her closer still. His hands wander down to her ass, giving a firm squeeze. "You sure you can handle it?"

She gasps softly as he touches her, her body responding to his touch. "I can handle anything you throw at me, Trager," she whispers back, her eyes locking with his.

"Is that so?" He grins, nipping at her ear. "We'll see about that."

He scoops her up into his arms, holding her against his chest with ease. He strides over to the couch, setting her down on it before crawling over her, his body covering hers. He takes her wrists in his hands, pinning them above her head. He gazes down at her, his eyes filled with hunger and desire. "You still think you can handle it, doll?" She shivers as he holds her pinned beneath him, his body pressed against hers. She can feel his heat, his strength, the hardness of his muscles.

She meets his gaze boldly, a smirk playing on her lips. "Oh, I know I can handle it. But can you handle me, old man?"

He chuckles moving his lips hovering over hers but a loud knocking comes from the door once more causing them both to groan

"I CAN STILL HEAR YOU" The voice of the woman breaks through ruining the moment.

Tig growls in frustration, his eyes narrowing in annoyance. "Damn it," he mutters. He sits back on his heels, running a hand through his hair "Let's just ignore her hmm? she has to leave eventually"

She sighs "Tiggy, baby, we are not having sex in earshot of that woman total mood killer"

He sighs heavily "I could kill her if you want.. I'm sure no one would miss the old hag" he offers only half joking.

She swats his chest laughing "Don't you dare, she'll end up haunting me forever" she pouts.

Tig laughs, amused by her playful swat. "Okay, no killing the old bat," he agrees reluctantly holding his hands up.

"But seriously, how do we shut her up? You deserve to be able to make as much noise as you want in here without being hassled by some nosy neighbor."

She pauses, thinking for a moment. "I don't know... maybe I could talk to her again and try to reason with her. Or we could get some soundproofing for the walls."

He frowns thinking for a moment "...or you could just move in with me...you could sell this place or rent it out...I have a spare room you could turn into your own space if you want...I dont think it's too soon" he asks again completely sincere.

She looks at him, surprised by his proposal. "Move in with you? But... are you sure? I mean, it's a big step."

She can see the sincerity in his eyes, and a part of her is intrigued by the idea. Living with Tig would certainly be different than living alone, but the thought of waking up next to him every morning is pretty appealing...

"I'm sure," he says firmly. "I want you closer to me, and it would solve the nosy neighbor problem. Plus, I could keep you safe easier."

He reaches out and gently tucks a strand of her hair out of her face. "Besides, I like the thought of waking up with you every morning."

Chibs

Chibs and his girl were at the mall, walking up to the escalator hand in hand. While going up, Chibs' sharp eyes caught sight of something unpleasant. He saw a man standing a step bellow them discreetly aiming his phone under his girl's dress, attempting to take a picture.

Without skipping a beat, Chibs snatches the phone out of his hand. He holds it firmly, staring the man down. The creep froze, realizing he'd been caught, his eyes darting around nervously.

Chibs' grip on the phone tightened. He glanced at his girl who was visibly uncomfortable and quickly caught onto the situation, her cheeks flushing with anger.

"Ye thought ye could just take pictures of my girl without being seen, eh? Not on my watch," Chibs growled, his voice low and dangerous.

He opens the phone Chibs flicks through the images on the man's phone, each one more sickening than the last. His anger mounts as he realizes this creep has been a repeat offender, taking pictures of alot of unsuspecting women at the mall.

His jaw clenches tightly as his eyes narrow on the man, his voice dropping dangerously low. "Ye got quite the habit, don't ye? Takin' pictures up lassies' skirts without their knowledge," he seethes.

He hands the phone to his girl, making sure she sees the evidence. She looks at the pictures, her expression a mix of disgust and anger.

"I'll take care of this, don't ye worry," Chibs reassures her, turning his undivided attention back to the guy. His voice is firm and commanding, "Ye've got some explainin' to do, laddie. What's yer name?"

But they've reached the top now the man quickly trys to scramble past wanting to get away. Despite the man's attempt to flee, Chibs' reflexes are lightning fast. Before the guy can take 2 steps away, Chibs seizes him by the collar, yanking him firmly back.

"Nah, ye ain't goin' anywhere," Chibs hisses, his grip like iron, effectively boxing him in.

A small group has gathered around seeing the commotion his girlfriend quickly explains what's going on with a shaky voice so they don't get the wrong idea about what Chibs was doing handing the phone to a dad wearing dog tags with his two teen daughters so he can see for himself. The dad looks at the phone, his expression hardening as he sees the pictures. He passes the phone to one of the older girls, who also peeks at the images. She gasps, her hand flying to her mouth.

"Oh my God," she whispers.

The crowd surrounding them grows, with murmurs of disgust and outrage. Chibs holds the man firmly, his eyes scanning the gathering crowd.

The dad and few other men from the crowd help him hold the man down on the ground, none of them caring if they hurt him or not.

The man squirms in the grip of Chibs and the other men, but it's useless against their combined strength. Chibs holds him tight, his eyes narrowing angrily.

"Nuh-uh, laddie. Ye ain't gettin' away from this," he growls.

One guy in the crowd heads off to fetch mall security, and they arrive within a few minutes, taking the situation in.

The security guard approaches Chibs and the rest of the men holding the man prisoner. "What's going on here?" he asks, a sense of authority in his voice.

"This creep was takin' pictures up my girl's skirt on the escalator," Chibs explains, his voice a dangerous rumble.The security guard's eyes widen slightly as he nods in understanding, he then turns to address the man. "Is this true?"

"I... um... I...," the man stutters, his protests falling flat under the intense gazes of Chibs and the others.

"Save yer excuses, laddie," Chibs interrupts, his tone firm. "We all know what ye were doin'. There's the proof, right in yer damn phone."

The security guard nods, taking the phone from from her to have a look. His expression hardens as he goes through the images. The man's face is a mask of shame and fear as he's cornered.

"Alright, we'll be taking him into custody, and call the police" the security guard says to the crowd around them. "You can all return to your day now."

The people gradually disperse, the thrill of the spectacle wearing off. Chibs nods at the security guard. "Make sure he pays the price for what he's done," he adds, his voice hard and unforgiving.The man is taken away by the security guard, struggling but ultimately unable to escape.

Chibs turns to his girlfriend who still looks shaken. He puts his arm around her, pulling her close.

"Are ye alright, love?" he asks gently, his voice softer now the immediate threat is gone."I... I think so," she says quietly, her hand clinging to his. "I just can't believe someone would actually do that."

Chibs tightens his grip on her, pulling her into a tight embrace. "Aye, it's sick. But ye don's have to worry about him no more. He's goin' to get just what he deserves."

Chibs gently kisses the side of her head, his lips lingering against her hair. He draws her closer to him, his strong arms wrapping around her protectively.

"I'm sorry ye had to go through all that, lass," he murmurs, his voice soothing. "Don't worry, I'm here for ye."

[fanficimagery]

Violent Little Thing

To the Sons of Anarchy, you're just Happy's neighbor that doesn't care for drama or the fact that they wear kuttes. But in actuality, you've dealt and probably have done far worse, and it isn't until you're kidnapped that they find out your secret.

Author's Note: Long time no see, huh? Does this mean I'm back? Hell no. This has been sitting in my drafts since mid-2023 and thought it was time to go out. For never having seen more than a few episodes, I love these SOA boys. I'm not super familiar with the lingo or clubhouse etiquette, so this is gonna take place away from that particular setting. Trigger warning for graphic violence and attempted sexual assault (it doesn't get far). Reader is gonna be a little… off the rails. Blame all the dark romance I've been reading lmao.

Before moving into your new home, you knew it was going to be a fixer upper. Fortunately for you, you loved working with your hands, and after having been banished to Charming in hopes of calming your inner demons, you were going to have a lot of time to do just that. But the joke was on your family because there was no calming your demons. People just needed to learn to not piss you the fuck off.

When you get to the house, however, you see that a majority of the work has already been done for you. The only thing left for you to do is paint the walls, rearrange furniture, and unbox your belongings. The electricity and water are already turned on, and wifi has been installed with your password on a sticky note.

The master bedroom is huge and you love it, but you don't have nearly enough belongings to fill it. Your queen-sized bed looks tiny and you immediately want something bigger. So heading back outside to your vehicle, you grab your bag that has your laptop inside and head back in. Setting up at your kitchen island, you search for a place that will deliver any type of food and beverage. You find a pizzeria just on the outskirts of town that will deliver to Charming, so you place a quick order. It's a forty minute wait period, so to pass the time you start looking up bedroom ideas.

You run across a California king bed, but none really catch your eye. What does catch your eye, however, are the DIY beds that touch from one side of the wall to the other. You take your laptop back to your bedroom so see if it's do-able, and come to the conclusion that it is. You'll have to add some floating shelves since you won't be able to have bedside tables, but that's perfectly fine with you. You then take the time to get down the measurements of your room because you still have to situate your dresser and mount your TV to the wall, and you need to make sure everything will fit.

Eventually your food gets there and, sitting at the kitchen island, you dig in. You slowly eat and drink your fill, and then place any leftovers in the already cool refrigerator.

Needing some bathroom necessities and sheets for your current bed, you unload your vehicle. You place each box in their respective rooms, but leave them mostly boxed up. And not wanting to get any TV's mounted or bed fully put together since you still have to paint the walls, you remain on your laptop to pass the time and send messages to your family to let them know you're okay.

It takes you a couple of weeks to build your bed frame, get in your special ordered mattress, and paint the walls to your liking. You do most of your building in the driveway, so you've become accustomed to the people living on your street, waving at them as they pass or call out a greeting. But there's one individual everyone seems to steer clear of or avoid eye contact with, and that's your next door neighbor who rides a motorcycle and proudly wears a Sons of Anarchy kutte.

You had first seen the intimidating, bald man when he showed up a couple days after you moved in. You'd looked up when you heard the rumblings of engines and watched two motorcycles pull into the driveway next door. You paused hammering for a moment, nodded at the two men who took a moment to stare back, and then went back to work.

Over the next few days, men came and went from next door. And each time, they were intrigued watching you work. But eventually your bed frame was finished and you had to situate it in your bedroom. Maneuvering the mattress was no easy feat, but you were not about to ask for help, and it didn't take you long to finally finish furnishing your home to your liking.

As busy as you've been, you haven't really had the time to eat a home cooked meal. So after everything, you took a trip to the grocery store and bought hundreds of dollars of food and drink to stock your kitchen with.

The air is finally cool and crisp, so all the windows to your home are wide open. You'd been feeling a little restless, so you opted to cook a meal that would keep you busy. Enchiladas, rice, and beans is one of your favorite meals, so after making sure you have everything, you put a pot of beans to cook. They have to cook for a few hours, so while that's going on you get online to check in with your family.

When the beans are done, you get started on browning hamburger meat. Setting a majority of the meat aside, you use only a bit for the enchilada sauce. You pour in water, flour, spices, and some canned chili until it's to your liking, and then heat up some corn tortillas before you start rolling the enchiladas. After they're in a pan that holds far too many for only you, you pour the enchilada sauce on top before shredding some cheese atop of it. Once that's in the oven, you get started on a pan of rice.

It's when the rice is boiling that your doorbell rings. A little tired and more than a little hungry, you grab up your beer after turning off the rice, and take a swig of it on your way to the door. Since the door is wide open, you can easily see who's standing just on the other side of the screen door. It's one of the Sons, one of the only two with brown skin that you've seen so far. But this isn't the intimidating bald one, this is the one with a shaved mohawk down the center of his head and a killer smile.

You arch an eyebrow at him as he tucks his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and you take another swig of beer as you lean against the door jamb. "Yes?"

The corner of his eyes crinkle as his smile widens. "Hi. Uh, me and my boys are chilling next door and we couldn't help but smell whatever it is you're eating. You mind sharing the name of the place where you picked up your food from so we can go get some too? Smells really good."

Your lips twitch. "Who said I picked anything up?"

"You cooking?" His eyes widen. "Bullshit."

You huff a laugh and nod. "YN."

"Juice."

"Mhmm." You push the door open just enough so you can lean out and peer next door, catching sight of two men sitting sideways on the seats of their bike. "Just you three?"

"Yeah."

You hum again and then back into your home as the screen door shuts quietly. "I've been watching you guys come and go, nodding cordially when our gazes clash," you say. "If you're willing to leave your shoes by the front door, you're more than welcome to pull up a seat at the table."

"Forreal?"

"Sure." You shrug. "I never learned how to cook for one, so I might have made an entire tray of enchiladas that will most likely go to waste if someone else doesn't eat them."

"Oh hell yeah." Juice turns, cupping his hands around his mouth as he says, "Yo! Free meal! Get over here!"

You watch as one man eagerly gets off his bike, whooping in delight of free food. The other, the one you believe actually lives next door, casually gets up at a leisurely pace. You push open the screen door as they're stomping up your porch steps, and Juice introduces you to Tig and Happy. You do your best not to smile because Happy does not look quite so happy, but he grunts a greeting when you tell them your name.

As Juice steps into your home, he's quick to kick off his shoes and tell his boys to do the same. They do and then you lead the way to the kitchen, pointing at your table. "Siéntate."

"Ohhh. A Spanish lady," Tig muses as Juice translates for him to sit down as you instructed. When you glance at him, his wild-crazed gaze makes you snort. "I like 'em a little spicy."

"And I like 'em less talkative." Happy and Juice both snort, and Tig beams at your sassy retort. "Beer or soda?"

Tig and Happy take beers, and Juice takes a soda. You serve them each their own plate of three enchiladas, a scoop of rice, and a scoop of beans. You serve yourself last with a glass of water, and finally take a seat to dig into all your hard work.

"Goddamn," Tig grumbles after his first bite of everything. "This is some Mexican restaurant level shit here."

You grin as you eat at your own pace, feeling content at watching three grown men finding your cooking delicious.

"So what's your story?" Juice asks. "In all the times I've come around, it's just you here."

"That's because it is just me here."

"Why Charming?"

You take a moment to swallow your food, washing it all down with a sip of water as you lean back in your chair. Then glancing between each man and the patches on their kuttes, you ask, "Do you want the real story or the story I'm feeding anyone who asks in polite small talk when they see a new face in the store?"

All three men slow their eating, their gazes sliding up to you in surprise.

"What's the story you tellin' the locals?" Tig asks.

Placing a hand over your heart and changing your voice so you sound like a southern belle, you say, "Just that I just left a very nasty relationship and my family thought I deserved a fresh start away from the man who dared lift a fist in my direction."

Tig snorts. "And the real story?"

You chuckle as your voice goes back to normal. "My family thought I needed to calm my inner demons, so they banished me to Charming. Joke's on them, I've made peace with my demons. It's not my fault people keep pissing me off."

Tig and Juice laugh as Happy smirks at you.

"What'd you do to earn banishment?" Juice wonders.

You shrug. "I wasn't joking about the nasty relationship. I just leave out the small detail that once I was out of the hospital, I went crawling back to my dickhead of an ex-fiancé and plotted my revenge."

"Crazy and you can cook. Marry me," Tig says.

You shake your head at him, eating a bit more before finishing the story. "I was raised to take no shit from anyone. So after he put me in the hospital, I made him believe all was well. Then one night, when he least suspected it, I slipped him a little something so he was conscious, but paralyzed, and set fire to his house."

The three men freeze, but you continue eating as if it was no big deal.

"Did you- did you kill him?" Juice warily asks.

"Unfortunately, no." You pout and then laugh at their awed expressions. "He had nosy neighbors so they were able to get the firetrucks there as soon as they smelled smoke. But when my family found out, they said I was sloppy, so I got shipped out here."

"Yoo.. what the fuck?" A moment of quiet ensues and then Juice is laughing. "That has to be the craziest shit I've heard in a while."

"I highly doubt that." Your gaze drops to the patch on his kutte. "I'm sure you've heard, seen, or taken part of some pretty crazy shit." When you meet his gaze again, you smirk. "Am I wrong?"

Juice grins and then looks at Happy. "Your neighbor is cool as shit. I'm kind of jealous." The air of amusement lingers as everyone continues to eat. "So what do you do for work?"

"I do some IT stuff for my family." You shrug. "I can work from anywhere, so I guess I'll still be doing that. What about you boys? What do you do other than ride?"

"We work at Teller Automotive," Tig says. "Only car garage in town."

"Really? Do you guys have any openings this week? I need my oil changed."

"Sure. We'll leave a number before we leave."

The rest of dinner is spent with the men telling you what there is to do in Charming and asking how long you plan on staying. You're not really sure, but if you end up liking Charming then you have no issues setting down roots. And then when dinner is done and you've seemed to exhaust all the small talk topics, you plate up the leftovers and send the men on their way.

Over the next couple of weeks, you befriend your neighbor. You take your vehicle into Teller Automotive and Happy takes it upon himself to take care of it for you. Tig and Juice had kept you company, and introduced you to a few of their other brothers when they took interest in their new friend. You were invited to one of their parties and, after some pressuring, you went. Nothing shocked you, not even a few members of the club getting head in plain sight, but Happy apparently shocked everyone else by gluing himself to your side. According to the club President, Happy was normally found in the ring outside or fucking his way through croweaters, but that night he made sure that no one bothered you.

Then more often than not, Happy reaped the benefits of your cooking and appeared for dinner before taking leftovers home for lunch.

In such a short period of time, you grow accustomed to the stern biker's company.

One morning, you're startled awake by the doorbell ringing and a fist pounding on the door. You sit up and scoot out of bed, hurrying towards your front door in a groggy, yet panicked state. But before you pull the door open, you peer out one of the thin windows on one side of your door. It takes a moment for you to realize it's Happy and that the sky behind him is still dark.

Unlocking the door, you pull it open. "What the fuck, Hap? What's going on?"

With a duffel bag hanging off his shoulder, Happy looks you up and down. "You always answer the door like this or am I just special?"

You freeze and then glance down, rolling your eyes when you remember you went to sleep in a gray wife beater, that makes it very obvious you're not wearing a bra, and a pair of hipster underwear. "Neither. You're lucky."

"Sure." You narrow your eyes at him and he smirks. "I forgot the bills were due and everything got shut off. Can I crash here until I get it sorted?"

Without missing a beat, you say, "Yeah," and step back from the door, opening it wider. "Shoes off. You know where the bathroom is and I'm pretty sure you can find the guest bedroom." You yawn and lock the door behind your friend. "What time is it?"

"Little after five."

"Happy," you whine. "S'too fuckin' early. M'going back to bed." As you pad back to your room, you don't hear any footsteps behind you. "Stop staring at my ass!"

"Can't help it. Might start dropping by early now."

"Do it and die, Lowman." Stopping and turning, you point an accusatory finger at him. "Do not come in between me and my bed. I will murder you."

His lips twitch. "Worth it."

. .

. .

It takes less than a week for Happy to get his power and water turned back on, and then he's back at his house. Though there are times when he shows up for dinner, dropping off on your couch when he's too tired to walk back home. Normally you would mind, but Happy knew how to clean up after himself, so you didn't mind that it seemed he was practically half moved in.

One night, you get a call from your brother that they need you to come in and work on cracking the passwords on a few laptops they'd gotten their hands on. You agreed, but first you needed to arrange someone to look after your house.

The next afternoon, you show up to Teller Automotive. You find Happy on a smoke break and ask him for a favor. When you ask him if he can keep an eye on your house for two days, he seems surprised, even more so when you give him a copy of your house key. You tell him he can crash there and eat whatever food you have so long as he doesn't trash the place. He readily agrees.

And when you return two days later, you realize you should have specified that he could crash in the guest bedroom. Finding a nearly naked Happy in your bed isn't half bad, nor is the firmness of his ass when you smack a hand down on it to wake him up.

Immediately he jerks awake, twisting his body as he sits up, and pointing a gun right at your face. You laugh and lick the tip of the barrel while wiggling your eyebrows at him. "Wakey, wakey."

"You're a fuckin' pyscho," he grumbles, lowering his gun.

"Yeah, well duh. You should have had that figured out a long time ago." He rolls his eyes before turning to drop down face first back into your pillow, shoving his gun back under it. You grin. "Was there something wrong with the guest room you've been using?"

"No. I just didn't know how fuckin' massive your bed was. It looked lonely without a body in it."

"Mhmm. I'm sure." He grunts and you chuckle as you crawl out of the bed. "I'm gonna go pick up some breakfast from the diner. Want anything?"

"Anything and everything."

"Gotcha. I'll text you when I'm on my way back."

. .

. .

The dynamic between you and Happy ended up changing after that fateful morning. When he slept over, it was in your bed. You hadn't crossed the line past lingering touches or innuendos, but it was a given that he was the only person allowed in your bed. You didn't care for the croweaters at the parties his club put on every Friday night, but the two of you made a statement when he rolled up one night with you seated behind him.

The Sons nearly gaped as Happy amped up his protectiveness, pulling you between his parted thighs as he took a seat on a stool at the bar. Tig and Juice had walked over, and Happy perched you on his knee as you joked with his brothers. The croweaters didn't bother to hide their glares or sneers, but you merely smirked at their cattiness and took to scratching the back of Happy's head with your nails when you'd draped your arm around his shoulders.

"So, is this a thing?" Jax, the club president, had asked.

You shrugged and grinned. "We're friends."

"Friends don't stake claims."

"We're possessive friends."

Happy had snorted but didn't correct you.

From there on out, it was known that you were Happy's.

The Sons are relaxing at the clubhouse after a long day's work when blacked out Escalades and BMW's pull up. The atmosphere immediately goes from relaxed to tense, and the Sons flank their President when he walks out to the lot to see what the deal is.

Thug after thug exit the vehicles before opening the doors on two Escalades, ushering out four well-dressed men. None of them look like they'd be a person to fuck with, so Jax is extremely curious as to what the fuck is going on.

"Can I help you?" He asks, eyebrow arches as tattooed thugs flank the apparent important men.

"I hope you can." The one in charge reaches into his coat pocket, pulling out a picture. "What do you know about this woman?"

When Jax is shown a picture, he mentally curses. It's Happy's neighbor and a friend to many Sons. He keeps his expression neutral, before shrugging. "Nothing. Should I?"

"She's my baby sister."

"Oh hell…"

"YN never misses check-in and she's missed two," the man explains. "It's come to my attention that she's made some connections to Happy Lowman, Juan Ortiz, and Tig Trager- all Sons of Anarchy. Do you understand why I'm here now?"

"Fuck, man, we didn't know. What can we do?"

"You can start by questioning your men to see if they'd heard from her."

At that, Tig steps forward. "I haven't seen or spoken with YN in a little over a week."

"What about Juan or Happy?"

Jax looks at his gathered men, frowning. "Where are Juice and Happy?" No one says anything, looking as confused as their President when they don't see their familiar faces. Then raising his voice, he asks, "Has anyone heard from Happy or Juice today?" Nothing. No one utters a peep. "What about yesterday?"

"Jax." Opie has his phone to ear, shaking his head. "Both are going to voicemail."

"Shit." Then turning around to face the slowly darkening expressions of YN's apparent brothers, Jax asks, "How can we help?"

. .

. .

When your eyes flutter open, every inch of your body is in pain.

"How the fuck does my hair hurt?" You groan. You try to sit up, but realize you're on your side, on dirt and hay, with your hands tied behind your back. "What the actual fuck?" Clearing your vision, you see that you're not alone. Happy and Juice are with you, but they're in chairs with their hands tied behind their backs and looking a little beat up.

"Welcome back, Sleeping Beauty," Juice tiredly muses.

"What happened?" Maneuvering around some, you manage to sit up.

"Kidnapped," Happy says. "They injected us with some shit, but they gave you too much."

You grimace as you roll your neck. "Dicks." It's dim in the empty barn you're being kept in, but you can see sunlight through the cracks of the walls. There are stalls for animals on either side of you, all empty, and a table filled with various blades and weapons not too far away. Your aching arms are your main priority though, so you move into a crouch and wiggle your tied wrists under your butt. With a grunt, you fall backward and maneuver your hands until they're situated in front of you. "Ah. That's better."

"Get up and grab a blade so we can get the fuck outta here," Happy urges.

You do as you're told, mentally scoffing at the thought that these morons didn't think to bind your ankles. Unfortunately, you're not so lucky as someone had been watching from the shadows. So just as you're reaching for a blade, that someone jumps out at you and roughly pins you against the table.

Bent over with your arms above your head and someone pressed up right against you, you immediately start thrashing and cussing out whoever it is. Happy and Juice shout, and start wriggling in their own seats when a hand then pins you to the table by the back of your neck.

"So close, princesa." A man tuts and you jerk in his hold, but still he persists. Laughter causes you to look up, watching as another two men step out from behind Happy and Juice. "Is that anyway to talk to your host?"

"Fuck. Off."

"Oh, I will." Just then, a hand grips your waist and squeezes, and you freeze. "Just not yet. I have some questions for you."

"Don't you fucking touch her."

When you glance up at Happy, there's a look on his face that you've never seen before. You know what he does for the Sons, but you'd never seen that particular dark look or glint in his eyes, and for a moment it steals your breath away. Then you remember that look isn't meant for you, and you squirm a little as the man behind you laughingly presses his pelvis into your ass. "Or what?"

Juice answers, "Or we'll fucking kill you."

That causes all three men to laugh some more.

"Doubtful. But thanks for the laugh." Then the man behind you focuses on you once again. "Besides, my business isn't with you, but with the princesa de la mafia."

You tense. "I don't know anything."

"Aw. Of course, you don't," the man coos. "I would hope that your brothers are smart enough to never let a woman in on their secrets. But then again, you are the baby sister of one of the most dangerous mafias in the United States. I'm pretty sure you know something that I can use to hurt those brothers of yours."

You manage to angle your head just enough so you can make eye contact with Happy. He meets your stare, and you see it subtly soften, but then he's glaring at the man holding you once more. "I won't sell out my brothers."

"No?" The man releases your neck, only to trail his fingers down from your ribs to hips. "I don't want to mess up such a pretty face, but you do know there are other ways to break you and get you to talk, right?"

And then before you can answer, he's grabbing the back hem of your shirt and ripping it down the middle.

You yelp just as Happy shouts, "You motherfucker!", and squirm to get away. Across from you, Happy and Juice are pummeled a few times until they stop trying to break the chairs they're bound to.

The man rubs a hand up and down your back, fiddling with your bra strap, but never unsnapping it. You feel gross, but it's only when the guy reaches around to fiddle with the button on your jeans does red cloud your vision.

"Hey, Hap?" You manage to meet Happy's livid gaze. "Remember when I spoke about my demons?"

"Yeah."

"They desperately wanna come out to play."

"Shut the fuck up, you whore!" The man slaps you across the back of your head and you grit your teeth, biding your time.

Happy slowly smirks. "Then let them out to play, baby."

The moment the button on your jeans is opened, you scream at a pitch that startles every man in the room. Then pushing up as much as you can, you headbutt the man behind you. As he swears, you reach for the first handle you see and are pleasantly surprised to find a small machete. Then without even thinking, you whirl around and swing the blade, catching your would-be abuser in the neck with the blade.

Blood sprays as you immediately tug the blade free, leaving the man to try and cover his wound as he splutters on his own life force. From the corner of your eye, you see someone running at you, but another swing of the machete finds a home in the second man's face.

As the man falls back with a scream unlike anything you've ever heard, he takes the machete with him. Happy and Juice shout at you, and it's then you remember the third. He's running at you, a small blade in hand, and you reach for the nearest weapon. It's a metal bat and just as you rear back to swing, he swings first. The blade makes contact with your bicep, slicing it open, but you only feel the sting of it after you swing.

The bat clips the man in the jaw, stunning him. As he stumbles back, you advance. He sloppily swipes at you again, but you dodge it. The second hit with the bat hits true, catching him in the temple.

The man falls and you're quick to stand over him, bringing the bat down a third time.

The bat connecting for a fourth time makes Juice cringe, but Happy proudly watches on.

Thwack.

Thwack. A scream.

Crack!

"Shit. I think that was his skull," Juice mutters.

YN screams as she continues to wail on the man with her bat, caving his skull further and further in, to the point there's now a puddle of blood beneath his head and splattering with every pull back.

The barn doors open, and Happy and Juice tense when armed men start to file in, but they exhale with relief when they see Jax, Tig, Chibs, and Opie in the mix. All the unfamiliar men take in the scene with an air of indifference, but it's the expressions of the Sons that almost make Happy laugh out loud. They'd only known YN to laugh, feed them, or threaten the croweaters with violence. None of them, with the exception of himself, Juice, and Tig, knew the violence she was capable of.

"Uh, a little help?" Juice calls out. "My arms are killing me over here."

Tig rushes over, pulling out a blade to cut his brothers free. "What the fuck happened?"

"One of them threatened to rape her and she just lost her shit."

Juice is cut free first, and he immediately stands, rubbing his raw wrists. As Jax checks in with him, Happy is cut free.

"Boss, should we stop this?" Someone asks.

Happy looks over in time to see a guy in a suit grimace when blood is flung onto his pristine boots. "Do you want to get in the middle of that? You know how YN is. Let's just let her run out of steam."

As the guy steps back in line with a nod of agreement, Happy huffs and stands. He stalks over to YN until he's behind her. Then when she raises the bat high above her head, Happy lunges. He manages to grip the bat where it isn't slick and pulls it from YN's grasp.

Still very much livid, especially now that your weapon's been ripped from you, you whirl around to start screaming expletives and pummel whoever it is with your bound fists. Instead, arms are wrapped around you, keeping your arms stuck between your chest and another, and there's a gruff voice in your ear saying, "It's over. It's over, baby. The cavalry's here. You can stop now."

It takes a long minute for the voice to infiltrate the fog of rage, and then a moment to realize who's speaking.

When your struggles cease, Happy leans back a little to look down at you, but with his arms still wrapped around you. "You back?"

"Y-Yeah. M'sorry."

Happy grunts and leans his face closer to yours, and for a moment you think he's about to kiss you. Instead, he presses his forehead against yours as his eyes close, and he exhales with relief. "Don't be. That was hot as fuck."

You huff a quiet laugh as a bout of silence ensues, but then one of your brothers decides to ruin it.

"Hey, Lowman, we'll give you a million dollars if you give her your last name and take her off our hands."

You jerk in Happy's hold, turning to glare at all your smirking brothers. "Fuck off!" Laughter ensues at your disgruntled expression before Juice fills them in on what happened, and then Happy is tugging on your bound wrists so you look back at him before finally cutting you free. "Thank you."

One hand grasps the hair at the back of your head, gripping a little tight as he holds you in place so he can press a kiss to your forehead. "Let's get you home. You're covered in blood, and I need to take a look at your arm."

Glancing at your arm, you shrug. It stings, yeah, but it doesn't seem deep enough. And then just as you go to take a step, Happy swoops you up into a bridal carry.

It's then you notice that you, Happy, and Juice are all barefoot, and it's Juice who answers your unasked question. "You sleep like the dead, girl. Happy and I heard them enter the house, but they still managed to get the drop on us."

"I'm getting you a goddamn dog," Happy grumbles in response.

"Only if you clean up after it." He grunts and you grin. If he wanted a guard dog for you, then he was cleaning up any messes.

Outside the barn, suggestions are made about where to go now. Jax suggests the clubhouse, but at the wrinkling of your nose, Happy says you'll be going home. Your brothers mention not everyone can go because that many vehicles will draw attention, so Jax suggests sending your brothers' men back to the club with Opie and Chibs. They agree, and then you're loaded up into an Escalade with your brothers and Happy.

When you get to your house, Tig mentions that they had cleaned up and straightened your furniture after they figured out what had happened. You thank him and let Happy carry you to your bathroom while Juice takes the guest bathroom.

As Happy sets you on the counter, you watch as he gets the first aid kit from beneath your sinks. "They're gonna talk."

"Let them. The club already thinks we're fuckin'."

You snort. "Please. They should know by now that I'd never settle for a relationship where the guy gets to fuck around when he's on the road." Happy freezes with the antiseptic spray bottle in his hand before shaking himself free of thought and spritzing your arm where you were cut.

"Is that why you haven't given me the go-ahead to slip between your thighs?"

You smile at his blunt question and then wince when he wipes your arm clean. "Pretty much. I'm not a fan of my partner sticking his dick or tongue in some rando pussy, then coming home and doing the same to me." Happy grunts and you arch an eyebrow at him. "Would you be okay with me visiting my brothers and sucking someone's dick before coming home to you?"

"Fuck no."

"Exactly." You grin triumphantly. "So, unless you plan to stop dicking down croweaters or sweetbutts, the most you'll get out of me is some cuddling."

Stepping back, Happy tosses the used gauze pads into the trashcan and then reaches into your shower stall to turn on the water. Then looking at you, he demands, "Strip."

"If I fully strip, there's no going back. You're mine and mine alone." You hop off the counter, slipping off your ruined shirt without batting an eye. "I was calm and collected at your parties before because we're friends, but that all changes after this. I won't take it easy on any woman touching what's mine."

Happy smirks as he eyes you in your bra and jeans, and then strips off his shirt. "Good."

You've seen the man shirtless only a handful of times, but seeing his ink never fails to give you pause. You reach out for the first time, tracing the snake tattoo that takes up a majority of his chest and upper abdomen, before you trace the various happy faces on the side of his waist. You feel his abdominal muscles twitch and then between one heartbeat and the next, Happy's crowding you against the sink counter and angling your head up.

His kiss is as aggressive as you figured it'd be, his tongue sliding against yours and teeth digging into your bottom lip. You give as good as you get, nails digging into either side of Happy's waist as you kiss him. Then when the need for air arises, you pull back and try to catch your breath. "Well okay then."

Moving out from Happy's reach, you strip, uncaring of your nudity and then step into the steaming shower. Happy isn't too far behind you, but you're not too interested in seeing him fully naked as you are cleansing a stranger's blood from your body. Standing under the waterfall, you watch as the shower floor turns red. Happy presses in close behind you so he's under the water as well, and you straighten up before leaning your head back onto his shoulder, smiling softly at his hardness that presses against your ass.

"No funny business, Lowman. At least not until we've eaten a fuck ton and slept for a day or two."

He grunts. "Agreed."

You immediately start washing your hair, and you're surprised when Happy takes it upon himself to lather up some soap on your bath pouf to wash your body. For the most part he behaves himself, but when his thumb oh so casually brushes over your nipples, you slap his thigh and pay him back when it's your turn to wash him. He grunts when you take his dick in hand and thrusts into your soapy palm, but you quickly release him to finish washing his body.

"Fuckin' tease."

"You started it."

You get out of the shower first, smirking as Happy tells you he'll be out in a moment. You know exactly what that moment's going to entail since his hand is already stroking his cock before you can even find a towel.

"You gonna want something to eat?"

"Send Tig to get burgers and fries."

"Alright."

Back in your room, you can hear a muttered conversation from somewhere in your house. Clutching the towel around your body, you stick your head out your door. "Tig!"

"What?"

"Happy said to go get us some burgers, fries, and Cokes!"

"Do I look like a fuckin' maid?!" Tig appears in the hall, hands on his hips.

You grin at him. "No, but I do have a maid's costume. Wanna try it on?" Tig gapes and you laugh at his expression. "Come on, Tig. Please? You can grab some cash from the junk drawer."

"Fine. But only because I know Hap will murder me if I don't, not because I'm picturing you in a teeny tiny maid's outfit."

"Sure, buddy. Thank you!"

Tig grumbles as he turns to march out of your house and then you worry about getting dressed. You dress in nothing but a sports bra and boy short underwear, and then with a reluctant sigh you head to the front. Everyone's in your kitchen, sitting around your table, and your brothers groan when they see how little you're wearing.

"Oh, shut up. You've seen me in clothes like this before."

"In tights, not underwear," one brother grumbles.

"Just be glad they're boy shorts and not a g-string."

All your brothers groan yet again whereas the Sons find the interaction amusing. You take a seat at the table, grimacing a little and touching at your raw wrists.

"Let me get that for you," Juice says. He leaves to, no doubt, grab the first aid kit from the bathroom. Then taking a seat next to you, he asks, "Did Hap disinfect your arm?"

"Yeah. Just spritz it again and wrap it. It'll be fine."

As soon as Juice gets to work, Happy enters the kitchen in nothing but a pair of jeans hanging off his hips.

"Jesus," one of your brother's mumbles. "Are people suddenly allergic to clothes around here?"

You grin as Jax arches an eyebrow at his friend. "You have clothes here?" Happy nods and sits, and you quickly introduce him to your brothers while Jax looks at Juice to say, "You seem to know your way around this place too."

"It's because they practically live here when they're not at the clubhouse," you say. "Hap's moved his shit in my room, and Tig and Juice have slowly taken over my guest room." Then glancing at your brothers as if you didn't just drop somewhat of a bombshell on Jax, you ask, "So what the hell happened?"

Juice taps above one of your raw wrists and you situate them so he can disinfect them.

Your eldest brother meets your gaze. "There's a new family in town- Jimenez. They're trying to make a name for themselves and thought they could intimidate us." You scoff as your other brother's chuckle. "When they didn't get the reaction they were looking for, they came up with the bright idea to target the weak link. They thought they had the perfect candidate when they found out we had a baby sister."

"Joke's on them, you're fuckin' psycho," another brother muses.

"I'm not-"

"We literally walked in on you bashing a guy's head in."

"And let's not forget the whole reason you're in Charming is because you tried to burn down your ex's house while he was still inside."

"Or that one time you wrecked your car into that other girl's car all because she broke your friend's heart."

"That cunt cheated on him. She deserved every bit of karma I dished out."

Jax snorts, shaking his head. "Christ. You and Hap are gonna be a pain in my ass."

"You know it."

Tig shows up just after Juice is finished with your wrists. Juice then dishes out the food to you, Happy, and himself, and you get up to grab drinks from the fridge. As you settle back down, Jax and your brothers watch in surprise at how the three of you go to town on your provided meals.

"So, what exactly does one do as a mafia princess?" Jax wonders.

Chewing the food in your mouth, you only answer him after taking a drink of your soda. "I'm the family hacker. If they need a computer hacked into to gather information or scrub information, I get called in."

"So, in other words, you're female Juice," Tig says.

You laugh. "Yeah. Yeah, I am." Juice grins and you reach over to fist bump him.

You continue eating as Jax speaks with your brothers, listening as this small portion of the Sons of Anarchy are filled in about what business your family gets up to. When you're finished eating, you stand and start gathering up the trash to toss. While you're up, you grab yourself a glass of water and some Ibuprofen. Then after downing four pills, you head back to reclaim your seat at the table, only for Happy to gently grab you by the arm and tug you down onto his thigh.

Your brothers don't care about your new chair, but Jax, Juice, and Tig can't help but raise an eyebrow.

"So, is this a thing?" Jax wonders, gesturing between you and Happy.

As you drape an arm behind Happy's shoulders to settle more against him, you smirk. "What's the matter, Teller? Scared?"

He huffs and then stares at Happy, but the man beneath you merely says, "Gonna start drawing up a crow. Does that answer your question?"

The kitchen goes eerily quiet and then…

"Holy shit. Hap's actually gonna take a woman," Juice says in awe.

"This is a momentous occasion. We gotta throw a rager." The glint in Tig's eyes has you narrowing your own eyes at him.

"You just wanna see a girl fight. Don't you?"

"Hap's been possessive of you since you first showed up to the clubhouse, but now that you're staking a claim, the thought might have crossed my mind."

"Are you sure you wanna see that?" One of your brother muses. "YN might traumatize a few poor souls."

Tig smiles. "I look forward to it."

You roll your eyes at Tig's excitement about possibly seeing you fight and your brothers chuckle. The Sons really had no idea what they were in for when someone tested your patience.

Standing, you keep a hand on Happy's shoulder as you say, "Well as much as I love, like, and appreciate all of you, you need to go. I'm exhausted and I still need to sleep off whatever I was drugged with."

Jax grins. "Is that code for us to get the hell out so you can bang Happy's brains out?"

Snorting, you shake your head as your brothers all grimace. "No. I'm seriously exhausted. The fucking will come later after we're well rested. I have a feeling I'm gonna need loads of energy for Hap."

Your brothers all make noises of disgust as they stand, and you take a moment to hug and kiss each of their cheeks on their way out. You promise to call when you're feeling better and then you're ushering the Sons out as well.

Locking up after everyone has left, you head to your room where you find Happy stripping off his jeans. He's in nothing but a pair of boxer briefs as he pulls your blanket back before sliding under and you pad over to do the same. You meet him in the middle, laying on your side as you drape one arm over his abdomen. With your head on his arm, you snuggle closer and Happy reaches for your leg to have it draped over his thigh so you're as close as can be without actually laying on top of him.

"Were you serious? About the crow?" You ask right before you drift off.

"Does that freak you out?"

"Not really. But if I get your mark, you're getting mine."

Happy huffs. "And just what is your mark?"

"My lips and name." You run your hand across his abdomen before walking your fingers down to one of the few empty patches of skin, below his belly button and right beneath where the snake's tail curls. "Right here."

"Above my dick, you mean?"

"Mhmm."

Happy grunts and then squeezes you a little tighter to him. "We'll see, princess. Now get some sleep."

[undiscovered-horizon]

"Hypothetically speaking" - Juice Ortiz x Reader

SUMMARY: It's basic etiquette to not try your luck with a friend's girl. But when that friends seems to have no respect for the girl, perhaps it's basic etiquette to give her the affection she deserves.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 3k

Truthfully, everyone knew it wasn't going to work out - everyone except for you. Whether you are too pure or delusional, the thought never even occured to you, while the other members of the motorcycle club knew the bitter end the moment they saw you. At first, none of them thought much of it. That's just how Jax Teller rolled, there is nothing new in that matter. It was the subsequent weeks that made them dread the inevitable:

Jax brought you around the clubhouse to help out with the accounting, housekeeping or party-throwing. Usually, you were holding a pan, a broom or a pen in your hand. Or certain other things whenever Jax needed tending to his more carnal desires.

Nonetheless, the other Sons have gotten to know you personally and it was that new friendship that bore dread in their chests. You seemed to have a curious talent for making people feel seen. Even the smallest of details never escaped your attention. Refilling the bar for the night, you'd always find time to ask Happy about his mother's health and how he was holding up. Chibs and Tig have come to expect you to ask them about their children. Their answers rarely changed and so did yours: 'I'm sure they're thinking about you.' The biggest surprise came from the prospects as they had grown accustomed to everyone pushing them around and yelling at them. So when you'd ask them whether they were hungry, at first they were sure it was some kind of a test or a ruse.

For Juice, those little signs of a soft heart were nails in his coffin. Whenever he was spending several hours in front of the computer, you'd appear with a drink and a small snack. On top of that, you always made it seem like these small acts of service are something obvious - it would be entirely strange to not care for others simply because you can. Usually, your presence would slow down his progress as Juice was willing to exchange his worktime for a conversation with you. As desperate as it may sound, he came to the conclusion that his job will still be there in twenty minutes but you will be gone the moment Jax enters the clubhouse and takes you away. Sometimes he wondered if he had Teller's charisma, would you give him a chance? Considering you were seeing his friend, he never planned on acting on his feelings. Even the thought made him cringe: fantasizing about fellow member's girl? That's a rather large 'no-go'.

As usual, the dread settled in the men's chests when you entered the clubhouse. Then, it grew ten sizes as they all silently realised that the inevitable was about to play out in front of their hungover eyes. You passed the threshold in a somewhat hesitant manner like you always did, unsure whether you're interrupting something or are even wanted there. Bobby, Tig and Chibs greet you but they're unable to hide a strange sadness to them. None the wiser, you chalk up their lack of humour to the aftermath of a night filled with vices.

The clubhouse is a temporary ruin. Bottles and glasses are scattered across all flat surfaces. One of the tables is slanted, missing one of its legs. A few pairs of bright-coloured underwear are lying here and there. Something tells you that yesterday you missed a truly historic night of fun.

"Is Jax around?" you ask. The men exchange a meaningful gaze but it goes unnoticed by you. "He left his shirt at mine yesterday afternoon, I was hoping to return it."

Tig's face cringes. There's a sorry look in his eyes. "Sweetheart-"

"He just left, actually," Bobby interjects. "Don't know when he'll be back."

You look between them, beginning to sense tension. "Alright," you answer, unsure what to make of the situation. "Then I'll just leave it in the dorm room."

Their silence makes you wary like there's a piece of information that you're missing while it's fairly obvious to others; something hidden in plain sight. You walk past them, when Tig's conscience puts up a fight once more. He makes a step towards you, hoping to stop the disaster about to unfold. Chibs, however, grabs his arm before the man can realise his plan.

"He's made his bed, brother," the Scotsman says in a low voice lest you hear their conversation.

"Come on, man," Trager answers with a look of disbelief on his face. "She doesn't deserve that."

"Aye, she doesn't." The man nods. His stern expression reveals that he, too, is more than unhappy with the unfolding events. "But it's already happened."

Juice is either really lucky or terribly unlucky to be walking down the corridor at the same time as you. His lips widen in a smile and he's about to call out to you, when he notices the white t-shirt in your hand. In a split second of considering his selfishness and your feelings, Juice decided to act against his own interest. He picks up his pace and manages to block the dorm room door just as you were about to put your hand on the handle.

"You really don't want to go in there. Trust me." Juice is trying his best to sound like he's joking but he's not a good liar - especially when you're the one he's attempting to deceive. True feelings are slipping through the cracks and you notice his nervousness.

"What do you mean?" you ask. The weirdness of the guys' behaviour that day is putting you on edge. What on Earth is going on? "It's not like there's a biological warfare behind that door."

Two laughing voices are audible from inside the room: one belongs to Jax, the other probably to a woman. Something stirs inside you, anxious and dreadful but you push it further down. No need to get upset before you get all the facts, right?

"See? Everything's fine," you say to Juice, although the reassurance is really for yourself.

The door swings open with a slight moan of the hinges. Then, as you take in the scene before you, it feels like time has slowed to a halt. Jax is sitting on the edge of the bed, scandily clad in the thin bedsheets. Maybe he covered himself when he heard the door open or he wasn't planning on getting up just yet. In the bathroom doorway stands Ima, dressed in a rather tacky purple lingerie - the cheap kind that desperately tries to have some semblance of luxury. Had the situation been less agitating, maybe you'd think that it's a fitting piece of garment for a woman of her sort.

It's hard to say whether it's the shock or resilience but you manage to keep yourself whole. The last thing you're going to do is cause a scene.

"Brought your shirt." You disturb the akward silence. Jax's expression is unreadable but Ima appears rather amused - there's a sly grin on her face. Her quiet snickering makes tears pool in your eyes. "Thought you might want it back."

Wanting to evacuate as fast as you can, you lay the t-shirt on the dresser by the door and turn around to leave the room. Juice hesitantly whispers your name as you brush past him but you can only muster a quiet apology.

Jax, suddenly realising the consequences of yesterday's impulsiveness, hastily puts on a pair of pants. He keeps yelling your name, begging you to stop and let him talk to you properly but you don't give in. Running out of the dorm room, he's stopped by Juice, who grabs his arm.

"I think you've done enough, man," Ortiz states in an angered tone.

For a moment, the two of them stare each other down in silence. The tension feels like a forest fire - one moment of carelessness might lead to a true disaster.

Both men are aware of the other's affections. It is only now that they admit this knowledge.

"You need to back off," Jax whispers. Juice is disillusioned that the Vice President would have no inhibitions in caving his face in.

But lovers oh-so-frequently tend to grow just a little unwise the more they love. Perhaps that has made all the difference on that dreadful morning.

"No," Juice says while shaking his head, "I think I should go after the crying girl who just saw her boyfriend naked in a bed with someone else."

"That's not your concern."

Looking over the blond's shoulder, Juice catches Ima's malicious amusement. She knew exactly what she was doing and not for a moment did she feel bad about it. When he looks at Jax again, his dark eyes carry more contempt than anger. "Apparently, she's not your concern either."

Before the young Teller can continue their argument, Ortiz is running down the hallway. Bobby, Chibs and Tig ask him something but he only gives them a disinterested 'later' and continues his search for you.

Despite the perfect view of the parking lot from the rooftop, you didn't notice Juice approaching you. Only when you heard the rattling of the ladder did a wave of shame flood your mind. You didn't want anyone seeing you like this, especially people of formidable grit. Some part of you dreaded being considered weak. If you were just a little more honest with yourself, maybe you'd realise that what you were truly afraid of, was the outside confirmation of what you'd already believed about yourself - too weak, too emotional to ever fit in this life.

The shame, however, seems to evaporate the moment you see Juice's apologetic expression. He always had a strange air about him, an aura you couldn't quite explain. Something about the man makes you think that you could tell him the most asinine or embarrassing thing and he would never think less of you.

With a hesitant, quiet 'hey', Juice sits down next to you. Despite his own desires, he leaves a gap between the two of you. His eyes keep switching between looking at his fiddling hands or the side of your face as though he's unsure what's the correct course of action.

"I'm stupid, aren't I?" you finally speak up. Turning your head to look at Juice, you notice a sudden change in his expression - for some reason, he looks like he's about to burst into tears, too. "Believing that he would settle for me?"

There's so much he wants to say. An entire monologue is prickling at his tongue. You'd be the one settling for him, not the other way around. Never. But Juice manages to keep those thoughts to himself for now as they are not what you need to hear at this moment. Maybe, just maybe, one day he'll get to show you that whoever you decide to marry, no matter how noble or rich, you will be the one settling for them.

"There's only one stupid person in this situation and it's not you," he says in a serious yet gentle tone. "Okay, maybe three stupid people."

Despite his resolve, Juice is only a man and he, too, must break at some point. His hand fearfully reaches for your cheek. When you don't pull away, he hesitantly wipes away a tear rolling down your face.

"Three?" you ask in a quiet voice.

"Jax is one, for obvious reasons." With the back of his hand, Juice wipes away the other side of your face. "Ima is two. And the third... is me."

Confused, you furrow your eyebrows. "You? You're not stupid, Juice. Why would you say that?"

"I'm the king of stupid, actually." He lets out an airy, bitter chuckle. Suddenly feeling small, he retracts his arm. "I just tried to cover for my dick friend, so the girl I'm in love with doesn't get her heart broken. Extra stupid points for running after her like a lost puppy that just wants to make her happy."

"That sounds more lovely than stupid," you manage to whisper before another wave of emotions wreaks havoc. Tears stream down your face again but this time it's not only the bad feelings - there's something nice among them, too. A sense of relief and belonging; an overwhelming realisation that you're loved as a person and not only as a woman.

He doesn't complain or lecture you. Neither does he attempt empty words of comfort and encouragement. Juice doesn't know what he should say, so he settles for silence. However, his quietness speaks volumes. With a soft expression on his face, he keeps wiping your tears away.

"What do I do now, Juice?"

"Whatever you want," he answers with a strange lightness to his voice. It appears that his response is not something carefully woven but rather a cliché.

You sniffle loudly and although there's nothing attractive about that, it's candid. In Juice's eyes, it only makes you more beautiful. "Right now, I don't know if that list is very short or ridiculously long."

A corner of his mouth rises in a nostalgic smile. He seems to be recalling a memory.

"Remember that one time when you couldn't sleep and found me working at the clubhouse?" Juice asks. You only nod, unsure why he would suddenly remind you of that. "Remember what you told me when I talked about all the things I still needed to get done?"

"It's only three things," you repeat under your breath. Truthfully, you have almost forgotten entirely about that conversation. Juice had been going on about all the complicated steps that had to be done before calling it a day but, in the end, it was only three things. Granted, three time-consuming, challenging things but only three nonetheless. You never thought your comment meant so much to him.

"Exactly," he says as though he had just given you the perfect recipe for anything and everything. "I'm suggesting, you do two things now. First of all, get over the guy that couldn't appreciate you."

"Sounds smart but I'm not sure I know how to do that," you admit with a nervous chuckle. Jax Teller has been a tornado to your soul: came suddenly, wreaked havoc and simply moved on. There is no one to clean the mess, no one to put the pieces back together except those that survived. And you're still at the stage of debating whether you have, actually, survived Jax Teller.

"I guess the first step is not going back to him."

As simple as it sounds, the solution might just be one of the hardest things you've ever done. Nothing good comes easy, as they say. If it's true, you're going to reach for something truly incredible with this resolution.

"And the second thing I should do?" you ask. Deep inside, you're paying he's about to suggest something silly or relaxing.

Suddenly, Juice turns shy. This biker guy with tattoos and a loaded gun is fiddling with his hands and stubbornly avoiding your gaze. Despite his appearance, you think he's adorable.

"Well, uh..." He clears his throat in a vain attempt to get rid of his shakey tone. "If you want, no pressure of course but if you find it in yourself, then maybe you could at least think about grabbing dinner with me?" Whatever your expression looks like, it must make him even more nervous as Juice immediately begins downplaying his question. "Like I said, no pressure. I know it's bad timing all things considered, so it's cool if you don't want to, it's okay-"

"I'd love to," you interrupt him.

For a moment, he silently stares at you like a deer caught in headlights. "Cool. That's, um... nice."

You see him ever so slightly cringe at his awkward response but you don't think him weird. No, the nervousness makes you all the more convinced you want to go out with him - the anxiety proves that he cares more than he's brave enough to admit.

"Can we add a third thing?" you ask hesitantly.

Juice smiles at you as if today is the best day of his life; the kind of smile that slowly mends broken hearts. "What's on your mind?"

"Say, just hypothetically, how annoying would it be if Ima's car had slashed tires?"

He nods slowly, a shadow of mischief dancing across his handsome features. "Really annoying."

"And if she had to pay for new ones and there'd be a bullshit charge on the receipt like premium air or something?"

The man laughs. How can a sound leave you breathless?

"She would have a really fucking shitty day," he answers.

"Just hypothetically, I'd be satisfied."

"I think I know a guy. Just hypothetically."

Silence falls between you again. It's not tense. No, it's quite the opposite - the silence of two people who can just be. Now that happiness or at least a lack of sadness has entered your face, Juice is staring at you with an expression you can't describe beyond soft. If you didn't know any better, you'd think he was not looking at you but at a rare, priceless treasure he has spent his whole life searching for. But you do know better; you know that, perhaps, people can be priceless, too.

A dark thought suddenly clouds your mind: Jax used to look at you the same way. Not always, not for long but he did. And yet, as he has proven, it meant nothing for him.

You push those thoughts away with all the almost-depleted strength you have left. It's no use crying and ruminating about the past when you have your future sitting right next to you. A bright, terribly good-looking future, one might even say.

"Can you just hold me?" you ask him quietly. The heartbreak of Jax's choice and the elation of Juice's confession have left you tired and vulnerable beyond all imagination. Such opposite emotions are ripping you open in conflicting directions. It's like dying and being reborn all at the same time.

"As long as you need, baby."

Juice wastes no time happily fulfilling your request. He brings your legs over and across his own, nudging you even closer towards him. Gently, he pulls your head to rest in the crook of his neck. As strange as it may sound, the man feels like a fortress protecting you from past and future heartbreaks.

[brunettemarionette]

Gemma sighs as she talks over the phone. "…no, she doesn't have any open appointments for the next few months. I have Tig, Juice, or Opie free?… okay well, I'll book you in with her if anything opens up. Bye." She sighs putting the phone down walking outside.

The guys were all standing watching you bent over the hood of a car, looking into the window, with your overalls on, arms tied around your waist, and a cropped vest. "Does anyone work around here?"

They all scurried away in case you turned and notice them staring.

The matriarch of the club sighs before giving you a once over and staring at your ass until she notices Clay staring at her with a smirk. "Stop staring at the kid's ass while she's working," he says teasingly.

Gemma just smirked, whispering in her husband's ear as he rubbed a hand over his chest, "I will when you do, baby."

[pileofboneswrites]

TAILSPIN_oneshot.sonsofanarchy

SUMMARY — after receiving an unintelligible call from jax, your rush back to charming to discover your son, abel, has been kidnapped by camerson hayes, and worst yet, he also killed your younger brother that you practically raised.

PAIRING — exhusband!jax teller x fem!halfsack'ssister!reader | juice ortiz x reader

WORD COUNT — 3.8k

WARNINGS — established relationship(s), kidnapping, murder, death, past child neglect (about reader and her brother), divorce, premature birth, pregnancy complications, agent stahl, swearing, fighting, angst, loss of loved ones, suicidal thoughts, contemplation of suicide, cheating, allusion to smut but no description, no use of y/n (she's actually only outwardsly referenced 2 times and is referred to as miss epps or epps).

AUTHORS NOTES — just to clear somethings up; jax married reader instead of wendy, and instead of drugs being the reason abel was born early it was just due to pregnancy complications.

MASTERLIST

your heart was slamming rapidly into your ribcage, panic rolling off your skin in waves. you push the pedal to the floor, the idea of a speeding ticket not even remotely close to crossing your mind. this was your fault, it was. leaving charming, even for a few hours always felt like it had consequences. something bad always seemed to happen the moment you crossed the county line. your tires squeal as you peel into the teller-morrow parking lot, slamming your car in park as you jump out, only barely remembering to take off your seatbelt as you go. clay, piney, and opie are standing by the entrance to the clubhouse, sad expressions creasing their features.

"what happened?!" you ask, your voice loud, panicked and harsh.

the surprise on their faces from your tone has silence ringing in your ears. you'd known them for years, opie, jax and you being quite the troublesome trio through most of your youth. they'd never heard you raise your voice before, let alone the venom behind your words.

"someone answer me!" you shout, your entire body vibrates from the panic working its way down to your stomach.

you're going to puke if someone doesn't tell you what the hell is going on, and soon. you'd received a rather frantic voicemail from jax last night and hadn't been able to reach him since, which is what made you turn your car around and head for the clubhouse. his voice was shakey, and you couldn't hear a damn thing that made sense. but you know jax, and jax doesn't panic. he's dealt with and seen it all through the years, he's not easy to shake. so hearing your husband–well soon-to-be ex-husband–in that state had your mind reeling.

"kiddo, you need to take a deep breath." clay starts, attempting to sling an arm around your shoulders.

you shrug him off, "no! you need to tell me what the hell is going on, and why jax called me in a panic, and where the hell he is!"

it comes out as one rushed sentence, barely comprehensible but opie steps towards you. he rests a large hand on your shoulder, a distraught look on his face.

"we need you to take a breath, seriously, epps. i'll tell exactly what's happening, but you've barely taken a breath since walking over here, and you look like you're going to passout."

you nod, sucking in some extremely needed air. you take a second to just regulate yourself, and in that time, opie steers you over to one of the picnic tables. you sit down, back to the table and once you've calmed a little, you cross your arms and look up at him expectantly.

"alright, now, tell me."

he glances back at clay, and at his dad, before looking back to you. they turn and walk into the clubhouse, giving you two some privacy.

"cameron hayes killed your brother because he thinks gemma killed edmund,"

"w-what?" you ask, bottom lip wobbling, your head is spinning

your baby brother is... dead? eddie is dead? cameron hayes killed your brother? you shake your head, wiping your eyes on the sleeve of your flannel. you'd practically raised eddie. your mom was a drunk, and your dad had left long before you could form any memories of him. so, from ten on, you were big sister, mommy and daddy all rolled into one. you taught him manners, how to use the toilet, how to cook, how to flirt with girls, and so many more things. you'd been there for every step of his life, cheering loud enough to drown out the naysayers.

when he left for the military you were terrified that you'd get that call every parent dreds. sure, you weren't really his mom, you couldn't be with the five year age gap, but in all the areas that mattered, you were. eddie was your first kid in a twisted sense, and knowing that he'd made it all the way home from iraq, only to die at the hands of someone affiliated with the club that he loved so much shattered your heart.

"n-no, that's not possible, i-i just sp-spoke to eddie, we-we just spoke this morning. h-he said he and-and-and-and," you're spiraling, mind and heart racing faster, and faster before your expression drops, and your mind clears. "abel. he was taking tara back to jax's to get some of abel's things. where is my baby? where's abel, harry? where is my baby?"

you're sobbing uncontrollably, your entire body shaking as you slide off the seat of the picnic table, onto the concrete. opie pulls you into his chest, and you sob into his shirt. it's another first for all of them, watching you breakdown, watching you cry.

"we're going to find abel," opie says into your ear, trying to calm you down, it doesn't help, you just cry harder.

it shouldn't have happened in the first place! the club was on lockdown. losing eddie is hard enough, but losing your son in the same span of minutes is devastating. it takes you twenty minutes, but when you finally pull yourself together again you pat opie's arm, and stand up.

"where is jax?" you ask quietly, taking a deep breath.

"he's at home, we're heading over there now, let juice drive you, you shouldn't be driving right now." opie says, and you nod.

normally you'd fight him, which he's well aware of, but knowing your son is god knows where has you in an anxious tailspin. you don't have the energy to fight with anyone right now. opie walks you over to your car, tucking you into the passenger seat and waiting by the door for the other's to come out of the clubhouse.

"what happened exactly?" your voice is barely a whisper, and opie looks worried.

"are you sure you want the run down right now?" he questions, and you immediately nod, your eyes on the hood of your car.

"please, ope," its the most desperate, pathetic sound to ever cross your lips, but you have to know.

he takes a deep breath, "what tara says happened, is that gemma took off while they were out, so she sent your brother to watch over her, and she went to jax's house. stahl freaked, shot edmund hayes, gemma shot polly, and stahl pinned the blame on her. half– eddie took off to find tara, and cameron must have followed him from their safe house. cameron was going to kill abel, but your brother stepped in, and got stabbed in the process. he tied her up in the nursery, and left with abel."

"the same man who killed my brother, has my son?" you ask, and he nods. "and tara just let him take my son?"

"well, i wouldn't say that—"

"everyone's ready," juice says, stepping up to the driver's side window, pulling the door open.

"hang tight," opie says, patting your knee before closing the door, and walking over to his bike.

"hey baby," juice says softly, "i'm sorry."

you nod, but don't say anything. you pull your seatbelt on, and lean back. you and juice had been together for a couple of months, with jax's blessing of course. he'd been great, amazing even. part of you would always love jax in a way that juice would understand, and he was okay with that. knowing you would be crawling into bed with him every night was good enough to ease any worries he might have had. juice had been rock solid in your life, a shoulder you privately cried on when jax had initially asked for the divorce.

you saw it coming from a mile away, while you'd loved each other greatly, it just wasn't the same kind. you knew that in the beginning, the middle and especially at the end. you also knew that if you didn't agree, or you tried to convince him to stay, that you'd lose him for real. he'd grow to resent you, and you'd grown to hate him for resenting you. you couldn't live in a world where jax wasn't at least a part of your life in some capacity. so that meant an amicable split, and seeing him when you dropped off abel. despite what most people think about your relationship, things haven't changed.

jax is still one of your best friends, and when you're not working, you're usually at his house. your relationship label may have changed, but your relationship hadn't. opie had been the most worried when you'd told him you were getting divorced. his two best friends splitting? nightmare. but when you told him there were no hard feelings, well, he actually didn't believe you at first. it took seeing you both in action to actually understand that you were serious. then, you found out you were pregnant.

it didn't change anything, you were still getting divorced, but jax was actually really excited. he'd told you about all his worries about becoming a father, and you reassured him that he'd be great. in turn he did the same for you. he joined you at every appointment, and played a very active role in your pregnancy. he helped you find an apartment close to his house, and spent a lot of time by your side helping you with nursery set up, moving, and everything in between.

gemma was probably the most heartbroken over your split. she loved you just as much as (and sometimes more than) jax. she helped you a lot over the years, especially when she found out about her grandbaby. gemma made the transition from wife, to ex and baby momma so much easier. she was a cheerleader for you, and always in your corner. you were incredibly lucky to have them, and be in the situation you were in. tara on the other hand... she was the opposite. gemma clocked it the moment you went into labour prematurely.

you'd been stressed over work, being the only manager on an already understaffed team was difficult but so was being pregnant. you'd never planned on getting pregnant, so there were a lot of things at work you decided were to be dealt with later. the moment you found out, you were trying your damnedest to get things ready. the stress got to you, and manifested itself in making your pregnancy high risk, and then landing you in the hospital way earlier than you should have been. it was obvious to you the moment jax came to see you after abel was born that tara thought it was your fault.

later it became clear to you that she just didn't like you, something you didn't notice in your teen years. you'd never really spent any time with her then, but the more time you spent with her after your son's birth, because lets face it anytime you went to visit jax she was there. all smiles, and cooing at your son until jax left the room, and then a scowl and general disinterest in you reared its ugly head. now things were different. she let a terrorist kill your baby brother, and kidnapp your son. karma was about to take her ass for a ride, and you were going to be driving.

"hey," juice says, his warm hand finding yours over the center console, snapping you from your thoughts. "we're here,"

you turn your head, and see clay speaking to tara in the doorway. your vision goes dark. you don't even remember getting out of the car, let alone walking over to tara and grabbing a handful of her hair. you're yelling is incomprehensible, but it's obvious to onlookers that you're sobbing as you beat the shit out of her. you come to again with juice's arms around you, pulling you into the house, and opie pulling tara inside into a different room. your only injury is three claw marks across your cheek, but tara is quite a bit worse for ware.

"what the hell were you thinking?!" jax snaps at you, upon pulling you away from juice, and into abel's nursery.

"i was thinking about how that bitch let some guy take my fucking baby and kill my baby brother!" you scream at him, breaking down all over again. "my baby..."

his expression softens, and he wraps an arm around you, pulling you into a hug. you sob into his shoulder, loud, heartbreaking, borderline violent wails.

"i'm sorry about your brother, i really am, but you can't blame tara."

you pull back, weaseling away from his grip, "can't i?"

"it could have happened to anyone, it could have happened to you."

"i would have died, jackson, and i think you better than anyone knows that. i would have died for abel. for eddie. i would not have let that man get away with everything i love." you say, sobering, violent, hot anger courses through you. "i would have died or killed him. i wouldn't have let him walk out the door."

he just stares at you. his once bright blue eyes dark, like the light behind them died. you know he knows exactly how you feel. that he blames tara to some degree. but you don't really care. you're numb. your heart aching in a way you've never felt before. in a way you'd never wish upon your worst enemy. tara included, despite what she did. the worst part is you don't have the one person you want to talk to about it. eddie died protecting her, and his nephew. what did tara do? she let herself get tied up, let cameron take your baby, let cameron kill your brother. tara lost nothing, and once again, you've lost everything.

"i want to kill her jax," you say finally, after what feels like an eternity of silence, his sad eyes just staring back at you. "that's not rational, not right. but i've just lost the two single most important people in my life, and i want to kill her for it."

"i understand what you're saying, why you're saying it," he says slowly, "but you're right, it's not rational."

"when abel comes home, she's not allowed to be around him by herself. i don't care what that means. i don't feel comfortable with her being alone with our son." you tell him, fingers grasping the cool leather of his kutte to pull him in closer. "i don't want to see, hear or think about her until then, and you bet your ass, i'm coming with you to bring him home, whatever, and wherever that takes us."

jax briefly looks scared of you, but he collects himself just as quickly as you let him go, and brush past him back out the way you came.

"you're lucky you're not dead," you seeth, flipping tara off with both hands as you walk back out to your car.

worried about your well-being and your mental state, jax sends juice home with you when you leave. the drive to your apartment, albeit quick, is silent. how does one comfort someone who lost both their only child, and only brother in a matter of minutes? besides, juice knows you well enough to know that you'll talk when you're ready. if you're ever ready. and right now? you don't know if you'll ever be. the fear of unraveling that far scares you. so for now, you think positively, and you keep moving forward.

it takes four hours, before agent stahl is in your living room, sitting on your couch. juice stands in the kitchen, watching the exchange from the sink, where he's washing your lunch dishes.

"so, mrs teller, where were you yesterday afternoon?" she asks, and you immediately understand why the club hates the woman so much.

"the divorce might not be finalized yet, but it's miss epps, and i was half-way to seattle."

"ah, yes, i forgot about that... why were you heading to seattle?"

"i don't really see how that's going to get my son back, seeing as you know who took him already."

"we need to get a picture together of everyone's movements."

"i got a phone call a few days ago, my mother's in the hospital there. she wanted to see me, so i was going."

"as i understand it, you aren't close with your mother?"

"no. look, agent stahl, this isn't helping. get your ass out there and look for my son. you're the reason my brother died, i'm not interested in you being the reason my son dies too. do your fucking job." you abruptly stand up, and walk into the kitchen.

you want to throw something. you want to scream. you want to be violent and aggressive. you miss your brother. you miss your baby. you want them back. most of all, you want this nightmare to be over.

when jax tells you they're heading to ireland, you pack light, but take abel's favourite stuffed animal, a white bear with a blue hat, mitts, scarf and booties. you carry the bear with you, hugging it tightly when you worry you're about to fall apart. jax's reassuring hand on your knee, and juice's hand in yours keeps your grounded. you lose yourself a little every time you think you're going to see abel, and then are denied at the last moment.

when father ashby finally drops the bomb on you and jax; that he'd been adopted, sold to another family, you break down. father ashby tries to comfort you, but nothing he says changes anything.

"i don't care about your fucking god, i don't. i don't care about your promise to john teller. i want my fucking baby back. your cousin has caused me enough pain; by killing my fucking brother. don't make the mistake of keeping my son from me." you scream, uncaring who hears you. "i'm sure you know the saying desperate people, do desperate things. desperate doesn't even begin to cover what i am, and what i'm willing to do to get abel in my arms, and back home."

you lay in bed all day, the blanket pulled up over your head, your eyes squeezed closed, the bear tucked under your arm. you've felt sick from the moment you'd heard that abel might be gone. whisked away by some—in their defence, probably oblivious, but lovely—couple, about to be taken god knows where. the very notion, that you could go home empty handed hurts, burns, stabs at your heart. you feel like someone's cut you open, and taken a knife to your chest. poking and proding at all the parts you should never poke and prod at.

you've never felt worse in your life; physically, mentally, and emotionally. you're drained, exhausted, and contemplating ending your life. you've never felt so low. you're almost embarrassed as the idea crosses your mind, but the longer you stew, the longer it seems like a really appealing idea. incredibly selfish, but desperation is like that. you weren't sure how jax was downstairs, enjoying the night, the party, the people... how he wasn't suffocating, like you were. everthing is falling apart, collapsing around you, and he's acting like everything's a-ok.

you don't hear the bedroom door open, but you startle when you feel the bed dip behind you. fight mode activates, and you leap from the bed, eyes scanning for a weapon. then you see jax's face in the reflection of the window, your heart rate slows.

"you asshole, make some noise when you move around. i thought i was about to get murdered..." you close your eyes, hands dropping to your sides. "why are you here?"

"i'm so sorry," his voice is barely a whisper, you vaguely make out the trembling of his bottom lip, and the tears streaming down his face. "this never– never should have happened."

your expression softens, and you sink back down on the small bed. you pull jax in, his head resting on your shoulder as you hold him. you'd only ever seen him cry a few times, but that was usually how you could tell he was past his breaking point. jax always perseveres, pushing forward. you're the slightly unstable, completely unhinged one. he's the calm, rational thinker.

"i don't blame you." you tell him, "i don't even blame tara, anymore. i blame stahl. it's her fault all this shit happened. had she not shot edmund, none of this would have happened."

he nods against your shoulder, then lifts his head. the kiss is unexpected, but not unwelcome or unwanted. the sex is fantastic, it always is with jax, but it just further complicates an already complicated situation. it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what happened come morning when juice pops his head into the room to see how you're doing. he's hurt, but he understands to an extent. he loves abel. he loves you and by extension abel is part of you, so what's not to love? under normal circumstances, he knows this would not be an issue, but nothing about what's happening is normal.

he knows you're grieving, he knows as abel's father, jax can relate to your struggles more than anyone. what he doesn't understand, is why, even while in the midst of a divorce, the pair of you would do something like that. how despite this, he shoves his concerns aside, and closes the door, banging heavily on it to wake the pair of you. he doesn't avoid your eye, or not take your hand when you reach for his, or walk out of every room you walk into. he instead, keeps his mouth shut, and supports you. the guilt gnaws at you, and you spend the majority of the day avoiding jax, and he you (and juice).

after your night with jax, you brush your hair, actually get dressed, and spend the afternoon playing cards with juice, opie and happy, and try really hard to feel normal. it works for a few hours, until you find out that your son has been taken, again from his new adopted parents, and that they were brutally murdered in their hotel room. discovering jimmy was behind it surprises no one, but sets you into yet another tailspin. terrified of what could happen to him, terrified that jimmy would kill him if he got too annoying.

luckily, your fears never play out, because father ashby trades himself for abel. when jax walks back through the doors of the apartment you'd all been staying in, with abel in his arms you can't help the happy tears. shaky, holding your breath, hand over your mouth, you stare at your unharmed baby in jax's arms. seeing abel for the first time in what feels like an eternity is like a cold water shock to your system. when jax hands him over to you, letting you finally hold your son after weeks without him.

he smiles up at you, cooing softly, and reaching for your hair. it's like every bad, anxiety moment slips away. it doesn't matter that he was gone, all that matter's is that he's home, in your arms, surrounded by all the people who fought to bring him home, his family.

[etclouie]

kinktober day twelve - oral sex 

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 summary: your boyfriend comes home from a run with the club pent up and annoyed, and you’ve got a solution to help him calm down (Juice Ortiz x fem!reader)

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 warnings: established relationship, oral (m receiving), juice being drained after a samcro run, reader is described to be wearing one of his shirts, soft!juice, poorly written smut, lmk if i missed any

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 word count: 594

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 a/n: i wanna kiss away all his worries

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Juice had been gone on a run with samcro for the past couple days, he always came home annoyed and filled with tension. 

over the span of your relationship you’d grown to know all of the things that would help him calm down after a particularly hard run, just like now. 

you had him sat on the couch, while you were on your knees between his legs. his clothes discarded around you, and your lips pressing kisses across his thighs. 

eyes flickering up to meet his, gaze still soft. your eyes holding his while you kissed across the thin fabric of his boxers, the only piece of clothing he still had on bar his socks. 

“quit teasing, please”

his tone coming out in a broken plea, lifting your head and running your hands across his thighs. hooking both pointer fingers into his waistband and slowly pulling down the black fabric. 

humming as his cock jutted out against his stomach, carefully wrapping a hand around his length and stroking him a couple of times. 

swiping your thumb across his tip as precum started to pool, lifting your thumb to your lips and licking away the pre, humming appreciatively at the taste and meeting his gaze. 

a soft and dopey smile on his face as he watched you, hips shifting upwards while he slouched back further against the couch cushions. almost a silent plea to finally take him. 

bringing your head closer to his length and pressing a kiss to the head of him, sticking your tongue out to lick up all of the precum that continued to pool before swirling your tongue around his tip. 

eyes fluttering shut as the taste of him consumed your senses, both hands resting on his thighs while one of his bigger hands reached down to cradle your face. meeting his gaze again before focussing in on taking care of him again. 

“so pretty baby”

the compliment from his lips had you eager to continue, left hand at the base of his cock while your right lay loosely on his left thigh. 

tongue following along a vein on the underside of him, down to his balls before licking back up to the tip. 

taking him into your mouth and hollowing your cheeks, taking him to the base and letting your eyes fall shut. your pace started slow, bobbing your head at a leisurely pace, revelling in having him home and back in your mouth. 

“fuck— just like that, yeah”

the feel of him heavy on your tongue, and the familiar taste of him growing stronger the closer he got to his release. 

he felt heat rising to his cheeks, a mix of his arousal and embarrassment of how quick he’s about to cum. trying to hold off as best he can, until your eyes opened to meet his gaze again. the soft and reassuring look in your eyes had him spiralling towards his release. 

staggered groans falling from his lips while his hips bucked haphazardly into your mouth, gruff chants of your name leaving him as the coil in his belly snapped. 

his cock throbbing in your mouth as he came with a cry of your name, spurts of white coating your tongue and mouth. keeping him inside until he’d spilled every drop, his head thrown back as you pulled off of him with a wet pop. 

lips glossy and a string of saliva connecting you to the tip of him, swallowing down his release and babbling out softly to him. 

“love you bubs, i’ll always take care of you”

⋆˚࿔ reblogs are highly appreciated 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

[ravennaortiz]

Your Boyfriend is a Bitch headcanon SOA version

Summary: How the guys would react if they overheard some guy hitting on you and telling that your boyfriend is a bitch. Inspiration came from the song below.

Tag List: @keyweegirlie @hatersaremymotivators @meera10 @youngadult9016 @littlefrogbrain

Our sweet Juice is amused at first that goofy grin plastered on his face as he sips his beer. He figures it was obvious that you are with him since the guy literally stepped in between you two as you guys were sitting and talking at the clubhouses bar. Guy must just be to caught up in how beautiful his Old Lady is. Then he hears the guy tell you that your boyfriend is a bitch and he could take him. "Alright buddy" laughs Juice that goofy grin slipping into a tight smile as he grabs his shoulder. Slipping off the stool he steers the guy out the door. "Be back in a bit babe" he calls over his shoulder to you.

"Surprise surprise he couldn't take me. Guess you are stuck with me" states Juice smugly as he rejoins you giving you a kiss on the forehead.

Chibs has grown used to the "youngins" hitting on you and such. He used to be quick to swing but your calming nature had him using patience and words a little more often now than his fist. This time though he puts the young man through one of the tables. It's hard to say whose more shocked between the three of you. "Think you can do her better Laddie?" Chibs chuckles darkly as he shakes his head at the trembling man under him. "Why don't you join me and my Ole Lady here in the bedroom. One of us can learn some pointers".

Happy turned away from the pool table when he heard the new prospects response to your decline of a date. Your wide eyed expression, tight smile and nervous chuckle when his eyes met yours told him he had in fact heard the idiot correctly. It was nothing to the prospects expression as he turned to see who you were looking at. Happy simply rolled his toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other for a moment before speaking. "I'm her bitch boyfriend.

Jax is swinging fists before the guy knows what is happening. He demands the guy to answer him between every hard blow. "Think I'm still a bitch?" Are you blind? Couldn't see her crow? The ring?" "Did you miss my arm around her waist?". Jax only relents when Chibs and Opie pull him off the guy. Without another word he pulls you to the dorm hallway to relieve some more of his anger in a more enjoyable way.

Half-Sack is quick to be in the guys face. Newly patched he feels he has a lot to prove still. He makes it clear he doesn't need a gun to win a fight. Which does not last long and leaves the guy hitting on you knocked out and being dragged out of the clubhouse by Happy.

At first Tig thinks you and Kozik are playing a joke on him when you two tell him what happened inside while you were getting a drink. The two of you loved to rile him up and play jokes on him. He also can't wrap his mind around who in their right mind would tell his gorgeous, pregnant wife that she could do better and they could do her better. Especially not after you two had been together for ten years. The tears that start to well up though have him up on his feet and inside, dragging the man out by his kutte. Once he gets your nod of confirmation he pulls him toward the ring.

Opie while usually level headed and one to think things through before reacting. Can't help but to punch the guy in his face before he can even get his sentence out. While he agrees with the guy that you can in fact do better than an outlaw biker, no one else gets to say it.

Kozik would have let it slide. Being called a bitch and stuff did not bother him. What bothered him was how uncomfortable you got and how the guy would not back off. The quiet whisper of his government name from your lips had him grabbing the offending guy into a chokehold and yanking him out of the clubhouse to teach him a lesson on respect.

Rat had his teeth gritted as he served drinks from behind the bar. Still being a prospect he was limited on what he could do to a patched member, let alone the VP of another visiting charter. "You have my permission to handle that" stated Jax as he came around the bar, having heard what was happening. Rat nodded his head in appreciation before yanking the guy over the bar top. There were perks to dating the sister of the mother charters President.

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[juicesgf]

I was wondering if you could do something with a teen sister reader and happy or juice, platonically. Maybe it could be like a lockdown and they had to bring her and no one knew she existed until then.

If you don’t want to write this just ignore it.

hi anon! ofc i can, i love this request! I hope you enjoy and feel free to send some more requests❕

Mini Killa {H.L.}

Warnings: fluff, swearing, age isn’t stated but reader is around 17, horrible writing

sister reader x happy

“You have to come with me to the clubhouse.” Happy murmured grabbing Y/n’s bag and putting some of her things inside

“What? Why? I thought you didn’t want them to know about me.” Y/n replied watching him pick up her pink bunny giving it a funny look before putting it in the the backpack before zipping it up.

He turned to look at her before holding out the bag. “That’s not true.” he responded keeping his words short. “It was always safer for you this way, until now. Come on.” He finished not giving her any time to respond before he left her room and headed outside.

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

Y/n hopped off Happy’s bike taking off her helmet and handing it to him. She looked around seeing tons of cars and other bikes in the lot. Her nerves starting to strike.

Happy noticed and placed a hand on her shoulder. before nudging her slightly so she started walking. When they walked inside all eyes immediately turned to them some small gasps being let out when they saw Happy with somebody.

“Brother.” A blonde man with longer hair smiled looking down at Y/n “who’s this?”

“I’m Y/n.” She replied giving the man a smile.

“Jax.” He looked between them

“Jax, this is my sister.” Happy finally spoke up shifting his weight from foot to foot.

“Sister?” Jax questioned his jaw slightly dropping “Guys! Happy has a sister.” Jax practically shouted looking at the others.

Y/n started fiddling with her fingers at all the attention she was suddenly getting. Happy could tell she was getting nervous and decided to speak up. “Y/n why don’t we get you settled in my room yeah?” She just nodded eagerly at his words.

〰️〰️〰️〰️

The guys watched as something pissed Y/n off and she immediately snapped like Happy usually does.

“Damn, like brother like sister.” Juice snorted as she flipped off the person she was playing against in pool.

“Kinda hot.” Tig blurted the guys instantly giving him dirty looks.

Happy immediately turned in his seat giving Tig the nastiest look as he rolled the toothpick in his mouth. “Run.” He muttered.

Tigs eyes widened as he stood from his seat and started sprinting towards the door shouting apologies as Happy started chasing him, the guys dying of laughter as they all watched the scene unfold.

“Let’s hope he doesn’t kill him.” Y/n giggled walking over to the guys as she watched Tig scream like a little girl still running. “Last time he did that i had to help cover it up.” She joked.

Juice slowly backed away from her “Woah, Mini Killa.”

[garbinge]

Secret's Safe

Jax Teller x Ortiz!F!Reader Juice & Sister!Reader 30 Day Fic Challenge

Word Count: 3k A/N: I had more thoughts to make this more of a Juice fic but then.... Jax LOL.

Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of content. Mentions of blood, murder, death, assault, secrets, lying, trauma, abuse.

Word Count: 3k SOA Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics

As you opened your eyes, they squinted quickly as the bright sun hit them immediately.  After blinking a few times, they tried to take in your surroundings. You were in the passenger seat of your car, the green signs on the highway were moving extremely quickly past you. It took you a minute to focus to see what was on the signs but soon enough you caught one that said Stockton 75 miles. That meant you weren’t too far off from where you were headed before you ran into the person at the wheel of your truck currently. That thought made you immediately snap your head over to see the blond haired man, hand on the steering wheel, white knuckled, his reaper hat holding back the oiled hair from the sleepless night prior. 

“You look like shit.” You spoke up, clearing your throat as you did, placing his jacket that he had draped over you on his backpack. 

It was the statement he had said to you when you ran into him at the truck stop last night. It was meant to be humorous but once he got a good look at you, he realized it held way more truth than he expected. The genuine concern is what brought him to load his Harley in the bed of your truck, and continue your drive out to Charming for you. 

Staring at the smile growing on his face sent you back to the days you were falling in love with Jax Teller. Back when he had the kutte without the weight of the office patches. 

“Didn’t want you to feel left out.” His voice sent a shiver through your body. It had been half a decade since you last saw him. It made you look him over more closely. His hair was longer, Jax always sported the long blonde look but this was a lot more lengthy than before, like something had happened that led him to forget to get it cut. As you looked at his beard, you thought maybe that was more the sign that things hadn’t exactly been smooth sailing for him. Your eyes moved down to his kutte, despite being new to you, the vice president patch on his right was dirty and worn. 

“You think we could stop somewhere for me to freshen up, I don’t really want to jump scare my brother.” You started to look through your backpack for your toiletries as you spoke. 

“Was planning to go to my place first, I know how you are with him.” His knuckles tightened on the wheel as the sentence left his mouth.  

You weren’t sure whether you were annoyed or comforted by his statement. You knew exactly what he meant, and it was unreal to you that despite the insanity of this situation, you could still fight about the same things you fought about then. 

“And how am I with him?” It was said in a way that you both knew the answer, but you wanted Jax to humor you, or maybe you just wanted to finally win this fight. You stopped your search for whatever in your bag and looked at him, eyebrows raised waiting for an answer. 

“Cautious.” He spoke the word immediately and you felt the argument practically line up in your voice like it was muscle memory. 

Keeping your relationship a secret was ultimately what broke you both up. And that’s what made you move back to the east coast where you and your brother grew up. 

Jax followed up his statement quickly before you could let out a syllable of your argument. “For the record, I get it now. I think I was still a stupid young kid wanting to flaunt my girlfriend around.” 

This was completely new to you. 

You looked him over again and despite the distressed look to it, you caught the fresh stitching. The patch was not only new to you but new to him as well. 

“I guess being the second in command makes you mature.” 

“Makes you see what people can handle, too.” His voice was firm as he spoke, eyes still on the road. 

“He wouldn’t have been able to handle it.” You agreed knowing your brother well. He was fun-loving, caring, hilarious, but he had demons. And if anyone else’s found their way to him, you knew it’d break him because he’d try so hard to take them on his own. Not saying Jax and your relationship was bad, it was surprisingly one of the better ones you’d been in, but you knew by having that, you’d be taking away the one thing that kept your brother stable. 

“He gonna be able to handle what brought you out here?” 

That snapped you out of your thoughts. Your eyes said it all but he didn’t even need to be looking at them to feel your shock and need for explanation. 

“I saw the blood in the bed of your truck when I was loading my bike. Thought I’d taught you better than to leave behind evidence.” 

“That’s mine.” It was so pointed how you said it. 

That made Jax’s brow arch in curiosity. As fucked up as it sounded, it was relieving to you to be talking to someone who wasn’t shocked by the possibility of mysterious blood or being on the lam from a crime. To be talking to someone who almost found curiosity in the thought of the situation. 

“I got mixed up with this group of friends out east.” He didn’t need to pry the information out of you, this was never an issue between you, sharing your thoughts with each other, talking through everything, was never the problem. Telling other people was. “Real party kids, you know, we were drinking, doing drugs, having a good time, until we weren’t.” You took a deep breath before getting into the depths of the story. 

“We were hanging out on the front porch of someone’s house, it was late, or early, however you wanna describe it, and someone rolled up, I guess someone brought a friend who knew some not so great people.” 

Jax had a feeling he knew where the story was going but he wanted to hear it from your account.

“I got stabbed.” This part of the story was so straight to the point compared to the rest. The context here didn’t matter much compared to the lead up. 

“Still missing the part where you got blood in your truck.” Jax was only saying this because you stopped talking and he knew there were pieces of the story missing. 

This was where it was hard to say what happened, partially because you couldn’t believe how stupid you were to let this happen to begin with, but also since it was traumatic. 

“They tossed me in the bed of the truck and left me there to die.” 

Jax’s grip got tighter against the wheel and he sucked his lips into his teeth, the anger rising as he thought about it. 

“Obviously I didn’t.” You tried to lighten the mood. 

“And you decided to come back here.” Jax nodded, fully understanding the story. 

“After I killed the person who left me to die. Who just happened to be the one who stabbed me.” Again, the words came out with no lead up, just the point. 

Jax’s eyes darted to you when you said it. Funny enough, it was what he expected the situation to be. An ex got abusive, it ended badly, or maybe an accident when you were drunk, but the thought went out once you ended your story. 

“Did–” He was beginning to ask how you handled it, you knew that was what he was wondering. 

“I handled it. No trace. I was coming back here just because I needed my family, needed a familiar face.” 

“Sorry this familiar one looks like shit.” Jax was now trying to lighten the mood. 

“It was an unexpected one too. I wasn’t even going to come to the clubhouse, was going to go straight to a motel and then right to Juice’s.” 

“No love lost, I see.” He let out a laugh. 

“More like too much love lost.” You leaned back in the seat and placed your feet up on the dash. 

__________

You pulled back the shower curtain and wrapped the towel around your body, turning to wipe the fog off the mirror and stare at yourself. The shower brought some life back to your face, but the only thing that was going to make you look well rested was rest. 

As you opened the bathroom door, you started to talk loud, calling out and asking if you could take a nap but your words got cut off as you slammed right into Jax whose hand was raised to knock on the bathroom door. 

“Sorry.” He chuckled and stabilized you by wrapping his hands on your bare arms. 

It was at that moment that the both of you realized this was the closest you’ve been in years. You felt Jax’s breath on your face, it smelt like coffee which made you smile inside. Something about the domesticity of him in his home drinking his morning cup of coffee. 

“I was coming to see if you wanted french toast or waffles.” There was that domesticity again. 

“Jax Teller, who used to burn eggs, is offering me french toast or waffles?” The water was still dripping down your skin as you spoke. 

“Alright.”  his head twisted to the side as he laughed and then looked back at you, his finger now on your shoulder catching one of the stray drops before retracting his hand and looking back at your eyes. “They’re pre-made in a package from the freezer, was just gonna toast ‘em, not get all fancy.” 

“I’ll take both.” 

���Both it is.” He was turning around to go back into the kitchen and you felt your breath exhale the moment he turned. 

You both never got a chance to eat together, he came back to ask you about coffee or orange juice and ended up in his bed. Breakfastless and clothesless. 

As much as it broke you to sneak out, you did it. Sneaking out like this reminded you of what you were trying to leave behind, but now, you had to remind yourself of how safe you felt being here. With Jax. You stepped into the kitchen and saw the toaster housing the burnt french toast accompanied by the burnt waffle in the slot next to it. You laughed and grabbed both, they’d still be better than the junk you were eating on the road. Grabbing a pen you left a note on the table for him. 

Thanks for everything. Taking your burnt breakfast and heading to my brother’s. See you around. xx

With that, you were leaving. It was late afternoon now, meal times didn’t really have a time clock when you were traveling with no sense of time. Driving to your brother’s at this point was like muscle memory, you didn’t have to give it any thought and before you knew it you were there. 

One thing about Juice was that he’d always welcome you with open arms and no questions. Okay some questions, but none that ever felt forced or pointed. 

“Hey! What are you doing here?” He was so chipper and genuinely excited to see you as he opened the door. 

“Refugee looking for shelter.” You smiled back and brought him in for a hug. 

“Come in.” Juice pushed the door open completely and with his free hands moved to grab your bag out of your hand. 

Immediately you felt like a piece of scum in his pristine apartment and you hadn’t even had the grime of the ride on you anymore. “You live here or just showcasing the place?” You teased him. 

He sucked his tongue to the roof of his mouth and made a clicking noise. “I like to keep things neat.” 

“I know we lived in the same house together for years.” You looked at the art on the walls, the only sign that someone made a home of this place. There were pictures of you both, pictures of Juice with your childhood dog, pictures of the club, SOA flags and Harley memorabilia. 

“Hey I have this in my bag.” You smirked and moved to grab your backpack from his hands, he still hadn’t dropped it anywhere likely because he wasn’t sure where it’s place was in his sterile home. 

You pulled the photo out from the side pocket, it was wrinkled and folded, the complete opposite of his. 

“It’s before I started sponsoring, when I just worked at the shop.” He smiled, grabbing the photo from your hands. “You brought me and the guys homemade turkey sandwiches.” 

“You always left your lunch at home.” You shook your head at the memory, “I hated coming by with just food for you.” It was true, you’d make a sandwich for the 4-5 guys that were working that day. It became a sort of bit, the guys were crossing their fingers that whenever Juice was working with them, he’d forgotten his lunch. It helped that you came with a bag of chips and a 6 pack along with the sandwiches. That’s what the picture was. You, Juice, Jax, and Lowell eating turkey sandwiches and washing it down with a beer. 

“Everything okay?” Juice’s voice got solemn as he spoke, still looking down at the photo. 

“It is now.” You nodded with a smile. 

“You need my help with anything?” This time his voice raised an octave, in a more happy way. 

“Just a place to crash.” 

“Second room’s all yours.” He waved his arms in the direction of the room because he knew you were well aware of where it was. 

“I’ll be sure to disinfect my bag before putting it down.” You teased him with a slight push and made your way to the room that used to be yours years ago. 

By the time the two of you caught up, you leaving out the big details that you easily shared with Jax, it was nighttime. He brought you to the clubhouse, excited to share your arrival with the guys, and just happy to have his sister back in town. 

You were plopped on one of the picnic tables as some of the club sat around you, laughing about some joke Tig just said, most of you laughing at him more than with him. Your beer was nestled in your hand as you sipped slow on it, not really feeling like getting drunk much these days. 

“You’re nursing that beer.” Happy’s gruff voice alerted you. It was soft enough that only you heard him. 

“Long drive cross country, it’s making me more tired than anything.” You explained, it was partially true. 

But Happy saw through it. 

“You killed someone.” 

If you had been drinking the beer you would have spit it out by the abruptness of his comment. 

“Excuse me?” You frowned and looked at him, you probably met this member a handful of times but you didn’t know him like you knew some of the other crew. 

“I can tell, you got that vibe.” He nodded his head, his voice extremely raspy. 

“That vibe?” You raised your brows. 

“Yea, that life ain’t hold the same innocence vibe.” He answered you quickly. 

“How would you know what that vibe is?” You were playfully asking now, knowing that it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if anyone here knew what you did, but it wasn’t something you were just blurting out. 

He laughed at that and didn’t answer the question. “Don’t worry your secret’s safe with me.”

“You freakin’ out our guest, Happy?” Bobby was walking out from the clubhouse, followed by Juice with a new beer for you despite you still not having this one nearly finished. 

“Happy?” You frowned and looked at Juice as you grabbed the beer. 

Happy grinned and lifted his shirt up to show his abdomen littered with smiley face tattoos and suddenly with no explanation at all, every question you just asked in the last 5 minutes was answered. 

“Oh.” You grabbed your nursed beer and finished it off quickly before moving to the new and cold one. 

Before the conversation could continue, the sound of two motorcycles cut the sound of voices out completely. Your eyes moved to see who it was, even though based on who was here now, the options were limited. You caught a glimpse of his long locks when he took the helmet off. Instinctually your eyes jumped to the movement of the person who came in behind him, tall and burly, and despite him still being far back in the shadows, you knew it had to be Jax’s friend Opie. With ease, your eyes moved back to Jax as he brought his hand through his hair. It was oily again, or still, which had you starting to wonder what his day looked like after you left. 

“Jax!” Juice called out from behind you and it brought you back to the current moment as Jax approached, taking off his riding gloves with a big smile on his face. “Look who's back on the west coast.” Juice was beyond excited to tell Jax, the thought of bringing back the days when the group of you would hang out clearly driving his enthusiasm. 

“Yea, I–” Jax was about to say how he ran into you the night before, you knew it, but your eyes went wide and your head shook just ever so slightly as a hint to let him know you didn’t want Juice to know. Luckily you were behind Juice on the picnic table so he wasn’t able to see it but Jax did clearly. 

What wasn’t clear was how he was taking your action. He seemed a little upset, but also he had a slight smirk on his face. 

“Yea, I see that. It’s good to see you.” He changed his sentence, his eyes staring at you. 

Behind him was Opie who clearly was aware of what happened between the two of you and was trying to hide his smirk from the awkwardness between you and Jax that only you three hopefully could feel. 

Jax took a step forward and you moved off the picnic table to stand. His arm raised to bring you in for a hug. 

“Thank you.” You whispered and squeezed him a little extra. 

“No worries, as always, secret’s safe.” 

[drakoneve]

Destined Meetings

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

pairing: Juice Ortiz x Trager!Reader

word count: 1.9k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Except for the fact none of it was true.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Damn, I'm made, he thinks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What's your preference?"

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

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

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

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

"Why'd you guys move around?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[juiceortiz]

I'm a Puerto Rican from Queens. I speak better Yiddish!

[mysticalmallard]

With their drunk girlfriend

Finally finished I have been working on this on and off for a few days as work has been really busy. I hope you guys enjoy it I am not sure what topic the next group drabble will be so let me know what you guys wanna see next ♥︎

SoA Taglist: @arkytiorlecter @aimkatsz @ravennaortiz @darqchilddaydreamz @mischiefnevermanaged89-blog @hatersaremymotivators @theshynerdsworld

♥︎ If you wish to be added or removed from this taglist comment or message me ♥︎

SoA Masterlist 🌸 Main Masterlist

Chibs

Chibs looked across at his girlfriend as she laughed loudly at something one of club hangarounds had said. It was easy to see that she was thoroughly drunk, as she stumbled about and slurred her words. He watched her with a mixture of amusement and affection, shaking his head at how adorable she was when she got wasted.

As the night progressed, Chibs kept a watchful eye on her, making sure she didn't do anything stupid or get into any trouble. He even stepped in when some drunk guy tried to flirt with her.

By the time the club party came to an end, his girlfriend was stumbling around bumping into things. Chibs chuckled and steadied her, slinging her arm around his shoulders to support her.

"Come on, lass, you're wasted," he said, leading her towards the exit. She giggled and leaned heavily against him, her legs apparently made of jelly.

"I'm not drunk," she protested, slurring her words. "I'm just... a little impaired."

"Uh-huh, sure you are," Chibs said, humoring her. "Just hold on tight, okay?"

He guided her to the parking lot where his bike was parked. He helped her on to the back seat, making sure she was sitting securely. As he straddled the bike, she wrapped her arms drunkenly around his waist and rested her chin on his shoulder.

"Mmm, you smell good," she mumbled, nuzzling her face against his neck. "Like... leather and... and... danger."

Chibs chuckled and shook his head, starting up the engine. "And you smell like beer and trouble, lass."

The ride back to her house was slow and careful. Chibs kept a steady pace, mindful of the inebriated passenger clinging to him like a koala. She kept giggling and commenting on how fun it was to be on the motorcycle, her words a slightly slurred mess.

When they finally arrived at her house, Chibs dismounted and helped her off the bike. She stumbled a bit, but he caught her, holding her against his chest.

"We're here, love," Chibs said, a fond smile tugging at his lips. "You made it in one piece."

She looked up at him with glassy eyes, her face flushed from the alcohol and the wind. "I had the best night ever," she declared, grinning goofily.

He chuckled and shook his head again. "I'm glad you had fun, but you're going to have a hell of a headache in the morning."

He led her up to her porch, his arm around her waist to keep her steady. She leaned on him heavily, her steps uneven.

Once they got to her front door, he pulled her keys from her purse and slowly unlocked the door. He steered her inside, flicking on the lights as they entered the quiet house.

He helped her to the couch and sat her down. She immediately flopped onto the cushions, a contented sigh escaping her lips.

Chibs looked down at her, a mixture of amusement and concern on his face. "Stay there, okay? I'm gonna get you some water."

He disappeared into the kitchen, leaving her on the couch. He rummaged through the fridge, finding a bottle of water. When he returned to the living room, she was already fast asleep, her body sprawled across the cushions.

Chibs couldn't help but smile at the sight of her asleep. He knelt down next to the couch, taking a moment to study her face. She looked so peaceful, a stark contrast to the wild laughter and stumbling from earlier.

He carefully placed the water bottle on the table, then reached out and brushed a strand of hair away from her eyes.

He sat down on the edge of the coffee table, his gaze never leaving her. He knew he should probably leave her to sleep off the alcohol, but part of him didn't want to go. He liked being near her like this, watching her chest rise and fall with each breath.

After a few moments, he let out a soft sigh. Reluctantly, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. "Sweet dreams, love," he whispered, his voice barely above a murmur.

He stood up, giving her one last glance before reluctantly turning away. He switched off the lights as he left, shutting the front door behind him quietly.

Happy

Happy sat on the couch in his dimly lit apartment, holding a glass of whiskey, his eyes fixed on his girlfriend who was currently stumbling around, giggling to herself. She was clearly drunk, and had been for a while.

"Hey there, princess," he called out, setting his glass down on the table. "You need to sit down and rest before you fall down."

His girlfriend looked at him, her eyes half-lidded and glassy, a wide smile spreading across her face. "I'm fiiiine," she slurred, taking an exaggerated step forward, nearly tripping over her own feet. "I can totally walk."

Happy chuckled softly, shaking his head. "I've seen more coordination from a newborn deer," he said, standing up to approach her. "Come on, sit down before you hurt yourself."

His girlfriend pouted but didn't protest as he gently took her by the elbow and led her to the couch. She flopped down onto the cushions with a heavy sigh, looking up at him with a grin that was equal parts cute and ridiculous. "You worry too much," she said, waving a hand dismissively.

Happy sat down next to her, shaking his head again with a slight smile. "Maybe," he admitted, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her close. "But someone's got to keep an eye on you when you get like this."

His girlfriend snuggled into him, resting her head on his chest and letting out a content sigh. "You're so comfy," she mumbled, her words slightly slurred. "Like a big ol' teddy bear."

Happy chuckled again, gently running his fingers through her hair. "That's me," he said, his tone both dry and affectionate. "Big Bad Biker Teddy Bear."

His girlfriend giggled, nuzzling her face against his chest. "Mmm, I love your chest," she said, her hand slowly snaking down to rest just above his belt buckle. "It's so... hard and muscley."

Happy raised an eyebrow, a devilish grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Is that so?" he said, his voice dropping a note lower. He gently took her hand in his, preventing her from moving it any lower. "You're very handsy when you're drunk."

His girlfriend pouted again, trying to pull her hand free, but Happy held it fast. "I'm always handsy with you," she whined, looking up at him with puppy-dog eyes. "Don't you like it when I touch you?"

Happy's grip on her hand tightened just a bit, enjoying the game. "I never said I didn't like it," he said, his voice a low rumble. "But you seem a bit too wasted to be playing those kinds of games right now."

His girlfriend huffed, looking for all the world like a petulant child being denied a treat. "I'm not that drunk," she protested, wriggling a bit in his lap.

"look I'll prove it" she said holding a hand up going to touch her nose with her pointer finger but misses completely.

Happy couldn't help but laugh at her failed attempt. "Yeah, you're definitely wasted," he said, amused. "If you can't even touch your own nose without missing, I think it's safe to say you're done for the night."

His girlfriend stuck her tongue out at him, a childish gesture made even cuter by her inebriated state. "You're no fun," she muttered, resting her head back against his chest. "You never let me have any fun."

Happy chuckled again, resuming his stroking of her hair. "Trust me, princess," he said, his voice dropping back to a deeper, huskier tone, "We can have plenty of fun when you're sober. And you'll remember it the next morning."

His girlfriend nuzzled against his chest again, her eyelids drooping as the alcohol began to pull her towards sleep. "Promise?" she mumbled, her hand once again trying to snake back towards his lap.

Happy gently moved her hand away again, though he couldn't help but smile at her persistence. "I promise," he said, his voice soft. "You get some rest, and we'll pick this up in the morning when you're not seeing double."

Jax

Jax glanced over at his girlfriend, who was slumped against his side, her eyes half-lidded and a goofy smile on her lips. She'd had a few too many drinks and was now completely wrecked. He couldn't help but chuckle seeing her like this.

"All right, come here," he said, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her closer to him. He could feel her body sway slightly, her head lolling against his shoulder.

"Yurrrr so strong," she slurred, giggling.Jax rolled his eyes, his lips curling into a small grin.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm a big, strong man," he teased, gently patting her on the head. "Let's get you to bed, yeah? You're completely hammered."

He carefully helped her to her feet, keeping a tight grip on her as she wobbled. "Come on, babe. You're not walking anywhere like this." He guided her towards his dorm, one arm wrapped around her waist to keep her steady.

Once they were in the room, he sat her down on the edge of the bed with a soft thump, then knelt down in front of her to take off her shoes. "You're a real light-weight, you know that?" he teased as he slid them off her feet, setting them aside.

"Am NOT," she tried to protest, but the words didn't quite come out right. She wobbled again, nearly toppling forward before Jax caught her.

"Whoa, whoa, easy there. Don't go falling over now." He gently pushed her down onto the bed, helping her get comfortable amongst the pillows and blankets. He sat down on the bed next to her, watching her with a mixture of fondness and amusement.

She let out a contented sigh as she settled, her eyes fluttering closed. She mumbled something incoherent, and Jax couldn't help but laugh, shaking his head in amusement. He leaned down, brushing the hair away from her face before pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. "Get some sleep, babe."

He sat there for a moment, listening to the sound of her soft, even breaths as she started to drift off. He knew she'd be out for the night, and he'd have to look after her in the morning when she woke up with a killer hangover. But for now, she was safe and sound in his bed, and that was all that mattered.

Opie

Opie returns home late one night after a long day to find his girlfriend already on the couch in the house, a bottle of beer in her hand and a flush to her cheeks. He can already assume she is drunk and he has to bite back a smirk, knowing the kind of trouble you get into when she is inebriated.

As soon as she hears him enter, she jumps to her feet, almost toppling over, but just about saving herself by grabbing the back of the couch. “O-Opie,” she stutters, a goofy smile on her face. “You're home.”

“Yeah, I’m home,” he replies, unable to hide the amusement in his voice as he takes in the state of you. “And you’re a little drunk, aren’t you?”

"No....I have only had to beers" she whined frowning at the 2 bottles on the table.

Opie chuckles when he spots the bottles realizing she found the super stong home brew he got as a gift from Bobby. “Those ain't beer, baby,” he says, shaking his head and folding his arms across his chest. “That's Bobby's 'special brew'. It would get most people drunk within minutes. How are you feeling?”

"I'm totally fine," she mumbles, her words slurred as she tries to lean against the couch but misses and almost falls to the ground if it wasn't for Opie's lightening reflexes. He quickly catches her before she hits the floor and pulls her body up against his chest.

"Yeah, you're definitely not fine," he murmurs, holding her close to him. He can't help but feel amused by how adorable she is when she's drunk. "You're gonna have a hell of a headache in the morning, baby."

She groans and buries her face in his chest, wrapping her arms around his waist. “I feel funny,” she mumbled. “And spinny.”

Opie laughs softly and holds her closer against him, his arms wrapped tightly around her as he tries to steady her. “That’s because you’re drunk, sweetheart,” he says gently, running his hand up and down her back. “Just lean against me, okay?”

She nods and sighs contently as she leans against him more, burying her face in his chest once again. “You smell good, Opie,” she mumbles, her words still slurred and her breath warm against his chest.

He chuckles softly at her drunken compliment and tightens his arms around her, holding her even closer against him. “And you smell like a distillery,” he teases, his voice filled with affection.

She groans again and pouts up at him, her lips in a cute little frown. “You’re mean,” she sulks, her bottom lip sticking out in a pout. “You’re not supposed to be mean to me when I’m drunk, you’re supposed to be nice and tell me I’m pretty and buy me chicken nuggets.”

Opie grins, amused by her drunken requests. "You want chicken nuggets?" he teases, lifting an eyebrow. "At this hour?"

She nods enthusiastically, practically bouncing on the spot in her excitement. "Yes! I'm starving," she whines, her eyes wide and pleading. "Please, Opie, I want chicken nuggets. Please please please."

He laughs, unable to resist her adorable drunken plea. "Alright, alright," he says, letting out an exaggerated sigh. "I'll get your chicken nuggets, baby. But you have to promise me one thing."

She nods eagerly, her focus solely on the promise of food. "Anything," she slurs, looking up at him with wide, innocent eyes.

He grins down at her, amused by her eagerness. "You gotta promise not to throw up on me, okay?" he teases, gently poking her on the nose with his index finger.

Juice

Juice leans against the doorframe, watching his girlfriend stumble around, completely intoxicated. She's laughing and swaying attempting to dance, clearly not in full control of her actions.

"How much did you drink, baby?" he asks, stepping closer.

"Dunno," she slurs, grinning sloppily at him. "A lot."

Juice chuckles, shaking his head.He moves in and scoops her up, pulling her into his arms with ease. She's lightweight to him, and he easily supports her against his chest.

"Let's get you to bed, you're wasted." he says, carrying her towards the bedroom.She giggles uncontrollably, burying her face in the crook of his neck as he carries her. She's making these little hiccup sounds that would be cute if not for the fact that they're coming from a drunk woman.

Juice sets her down on the bed, carefully arranging her head on a pillow. She's still giggling and murmuring incoherent words, clearly oblivious to the world around her.

"You're a mess," he says, rolling his eyes but there's a hint of fondness in his voice. He pulls off her shoes and lays a blanket over her.

She's attempting to say something but it's coming out as garbled nonsense. He leans closer to try and make out her words but they're not making any sense.

"Shhh," he soothes, smoothing a hand over her hair. "Just sleep it off."

He settles down on the edge of the bed, watching her as she fidgets and mutters to herself, her eyes fluttering shut and then opening again. She keeps reaching out for him, her hand flailing in the air as if trying to grab hold of something.

He can't help but chuckle at her antics, despite the situation. He reaches out and takes her hand in his, giving it a squeeze to reassure her.

She mumbles something that sounds like his name, her fingers wrapping around his.

"Yeah, it's me," he replies, his voice soft. He continues sitting there, holding her hand and stroking her hair until her breathing becomes steady, signalling she's fallen asleep.

He sits there for a few more minutes, quietly watching her. She looks so peaceful now that she's asleep, a complete contrast to the stumbling mess she was just a while ago.

Slowly, carefully so as not to wake her, he gets up and turns off the bedroom light, leaving the door slightly ajar so he can hear her if she needs him.

He goes to the kitchen filling a bottle with water and ice taking it back into the bedroom leaving it by her side going into the bathroom to find some painkillers.

He comes back into the room, carrying a couple of painkillers. He sets them down on the bedside table, making sure they're within reach for when she wakes up.

He looks down at her sleeping form, contemplating waking her up to give her the medicine, but decides against it. She's in deep sleep, and he doesn't want to disturb her. Instead, he pulls up a chair and sits down to keep an eye on her, just in case she wakes up and needs anything.

Herman

Kozik and his girlfriend had spent the evening at a party hosted by the club. As the night went on, his girlfriend had indulged in a few too many drinks, while he had remained relatively sober.

As the party began to wind down, Kozik noticed that his girlfriend had become quite drunk. She was stumbling around, struggling to speak clearly, and seemed on the verge of passing out.

Seeing her in this state, Kozik knew he couldn't leave her on her own. He made his way over to her, gently placing his arm around her to help her stand steady.

"Hey, sweetie," he said, his voice soft and caring. "I think it's time to get you home."

His girlfriend protested, insisting that she was fine and wanted to stay at the party longer. But Kozik gently but firmly shook his head.

"No, babe," he said, guiding her towards the door. "You've had a little too much to drink. We need to get you home and into bed."

His girlfriend groaned, but she was too drunk to put up much of a fight. Kozik led her out of the party and helped her into the passenger seat of her car.

As he buckled her seatbelt, he could see that she was struggling to keep her eyes open.

"Just hang in there," he said, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze. "We're almost home."

The drive was quiet, with his girlfriend dozing off in the passenger seat. Kozik kept his eyes focused on the road, his hand occasionally reaching over to pat her leg reassuringly.

When they finally arrived at her house, he helped her out of the car and guided her up the driveway. She stumbled on the way to the front door, but he was there to catch her, holding her steady against him.

Inside, Kozik helped his girlfriend into bed, pulling the blankets up around her and making sure she was comfortable. She mumbled something about wanting to stay awake and chat, but her eyes were already shutting.

Kozik chuckled softly, sitting down beside her on the bed. He brushed the hair back from her face and tucked the covers in around her.

"It's time to sleep," he said gently. "You'll feel better in the morning. I'll be right here."

His girlfriend nodded sleepily, her eyes closed now. Kozik stayed by her side, watching her breathing even out as she fell asleep. He leaned back against the headboard, content to keep watch over her until morning.

As the night went on, Kozik found his mind drifting. He thought about the party they had just left, his brothers back at the club, and the life they lived. But throughout it all, his thoughts kept returning to the woman asleep beside him.

He knew he was lucky to have her. She was feisty, spirited and beautiful. And she was all his.

Tig

Tig was watching his girlfriend's every movement from a safe distance. Not because he was worried, but because watching his girlfriend when slightly hammered was always fun. She always let her inner self shine when she's had a few drinks. She's not as shy and reserved when she's like that.

Right now she was giggling up a storm with some of the guys from the club. Her cheeks were a rosy shade and her eyes were bright. A little smile played on his lips as he took another long sip from his beer.

He chuckled to himself, watching as his girlfriend stumbled on her own two feet. She reached out and grabbed onto the nearest person to steady herself, who just so happened to not be him. His smile disappeared into a slight frown, and he took a few steps closer.

He quickly intervened and wrapped an arm around her, steadying her. He kept a tight grip, not too tight but tight enough to keep her from toppling over. "You okay there, sweetheart?" Tig asked, his voice holding a touch of amusement.

She looked up at him, her eyes bright and her cheeks flushed with alcohol. A huge smile graced her face and she let out a small giggle. "TIGGY!! I'm good, just got a little dizzy." She replied, leaning a little closer to him, clearly tipsy.

Tig chuckled and instinctively tightened his arm around her. "Yeah, I can tell. You should slow down on the drinks, doll." He teased, looking down at her with a mixture of affection and mild concern.

"I'm fine, really. I can handle my boooze." She stated, trying to sound firm, but the slur in her voice gave her away. She stumbled again and Tig quickly caught her again, pulling her closer against him to keep her steady.

Tig rolled his eyes, a smirk playing on his lips. "Yeah, you're doing a real good job handling your booze right now.." he replied sarcastically. He let out a chuckle, his hand gently rubbing her back, soothingly.

She pouted and smacked his chest playfully. "Shut up, I'm not even that drunk." She retorted, her voice still a little slurred. "I had like, three beers and a shot then another one...Oh then Bobby made a toast so i had another few. I can handle that."

Tig raised an eyebrow, his smirk growing wider. "Oh thats all, huh?" He teased, his tone laced with amusement. "Yeah, sweetheart, that sounds mighty reasonable for a lightweight like you."

She huffed in mock annoyance, but couldn't help the grin that tugged at the corners of her lips. "I am not a lightweight." She argued, but her unsteadiness and rosy cheeks said otherwise.Tig couldn't help but chuckle at her denial. He continued to hold her close, enjoying the feeling of her warmth pressed against him. "Right, sure you're not. That's why you can barely stand up straight on your own."

"I can stand just fine, thank you very much!" She retorted, her drunken confidence taking over. She tried to step away from him to spin in a circle and prove her point, but she stumbles again, wobbling on her feet.

Tig quickly wrapped an arm around her again and pulled her back towards him. He chuckled, now finding her attempts to prove her point even more amusing. "Yeah, you're a regular ballerina on those feet, darlin'."

She went quiet too quiet. And has a weird look on her face

"Ah shit" Tig groans and quickly scooped her up with practiced ease, knowing what was about to happen. "Looks like it's a one-way ticket to the porcelain throne for you, sweetheart." He joked as he started to rush her towards the nearest bathroom.

Once they reached the bathroom, he gently set her down in front of the toilet just in time before she started to retch into it. He knelt down beside her, holding back her hair as she emptied her stomach. Tig winced in sympathy as he heard her getting sick.

"There you go, get it all out, doll." He comforted, rubbing her back soothingly. He was thankful that the bathroom was mostly empty, and he knew the guys would keep other people out.

Once she was done, she slumped against him, weak and shaky. Tig pulled her onto his lap, holding her close and letting her rest her head against his chest. He gently stroked her hair, trying to soothe her. "You're gonna be feeling like hell tomorrow, baby." He said with a playful hint of amusement. He knew she was in for a rough morning, but he was also secretly enjoying having her so dependent on him for awhile.

[mushies-stories]

Keys: when in need

Juice x F!Reader

Summary: Exchanging keys can be a big deal but also a sign of trust and love. Reader gets a phone call with bad news while Juice is on a run. she seeks him out for comfort but settles with his apartment while he's away.

Warnings: None? pet names? crying...? The family problem is left open; we all go through some hard times, so I thought it fitting to leave it open for anyone who find it helpful to and comforting.

Authers note: i have a few ideas about how having a Key to Juices house is helpful and i think i might write like a little series for them. like nothing in order other than maybe this being the first with the how?

word count: 1867

Juice looked at you with a small smile while his hand dug in his pocket. “Here.” he says as he pulls whatever it was he was looking for. “This is for you.” he says and holds out a sing key on a keyring. You looked at the key then back to him, shocked that he was taking this step in your relationship. It made you happy while also nervous, no one had ever given you a house key before. You wanted to be closer however, it was just a surprise and a little out of the blue. Juice got nervous the longer it took you to respond, his smile faulted a little and his shoulder sagged just a bit. “You don't have to take it… I just thought-”

“I want it.” your words were rushed and sounded just as nervous as juice looked. You reached out and slowly took the key, eyeing it with a soft smile. “No one has ever given me a key before.” you confess. 

Juice relaxed a little with a soft chuckle. “That so? Well you're welcome over whenever baby.” he says with a crooked smile. 

Your own smile widens and you step closer to wrap your arms around his middle, his own came up to wrap around your shoulders. “Thank you juicy, I love you.”  you say into his chest.

He gives your shoulders a small squeeze and kisses the top of your head. “I love you too Baby.” he says with a goofy grin, happy you accepted his offer. 

A few days later you decided to make a spare key of your own and give it to him, showing him that you felt the same way and trusted him enough to have it. He showered you with affection and love over the whole thing and didn't complain when you told him you would prefer to be at his place, since he was so clean and his place was so nice.

~~~~

It was normal for you to text Juice and tell him you were going to come over or be there when he got home. You both had come to an understanding that his place was the normal meetup spot. You didn't mind your own place but Juice's apartment smelled like him, it looked like him and you felt comfortable there when he wasn't even home. He didn’t seem to mind it either, since it was naturally cleaner than yours anyways, something he tried not to tease you about.

There was a night however, he was gone for a three day run and would be back late at night. You had been given some news about a family member that caused you to spiral a little. With tears rimming your waterline you drove to Juice’s empty apartment in a daze. It was about 5pm when you pulled up and used your key to let yourself in. 

You left the door unlocked and kicked your shoes off. Still in a complete daze you went straight to Juice's closet and pulled down one of his black T-shirts. You pulled your own shirt over your head and replaced it with his. Climbing into his bed you wrapped yourself up in his blankets. The blankets and pillows smelt like Juice, like he was almost there with you. You felt safer, still lonely and sad but his scent and apartment helped soothe you enough to fall into a restless sleep. 

What you didn't know was that you had left your phone at home. Juice, who had tried to call you soon after you left to tell you he would be home rather late, had tried back all day. Every stop he called you once and then soon he was blowing up your phone just to make sure you were okay and every time you didn’t pick up his anxiety got worse. By the time they rolled into town Juice was making a B-line straight to your apartment. When he pulled up to find your car missing and your door unlocked with your phone inside he began to really panic. 

On auto pilot he rode straight to his own apartment, the last place he could look before falling into a full blown panic attack.

Juices felt the weight of the world lift from his shoulders when he saw your car parked in the spot next to where he puts his bike. He haphazardly parks next to your car and practically runs up the stairs to his apartment. When he placed his key in the door however he found it already unlocked and the sinking feeling that something bad filled his chest again. He held his hand near his gun as he entered his apartment. It was quiet and dark when he stopped inside. Your shoes were laying upside down by the door but there didn’t seem to be any kind evidence of a break in. Relaxing his shoulders a bit he closed and locked the door behind him with a soft sigh. 

Slowly he walked to his bedroom. A small smile crept across his face when he flicked the light on to find you asleep in the middle of his bed. You were wrapped in his blankets and your hair was a mess around you. Juice really wanted to let you sleep, you looked a little like you needed it at the moment.

He was too anxious and worried for that however. You had left your phone at home and the door’s were unlocked. You know by now how much Juice cares about your safety, you should have known better and locked them. He kicked his boots off, for the moment not caring where they landed. 

He sat on the edge of the bed and gently moved the hair that was obstructing your face from him. His smile flipped quickly into a frown, his brows pinched together. You had been crying, evidence dripped onto his pillow. You had probably been crying for a while now and it broke Juice’s heart. His thumb came to swipe threatening tears from your tightly closed eyes. “Baby, wake up.” Juice spoke soft and gentle, trying to coax you out of your slumber slowly so as to not startle you. “C’mon baby, wake up for me please.” he asked again, now stroking your hair a little. 

Your eyes shift a little before fluttering open. It took you a moment to focus and realize Juice was there. “Juice?” you croaked out. 

When you sat up Juice couldn't help the giddy feeling when he saw you in his shirt. You were upset about something and you seemed to seek him out for comfort. 

“Your home… What time is it?” you asked, rubbing your eyes while you try and read the clock. 

Sitting against the headboard Juice wrapped his arms around you enough to pull you and sit you on his lap. You didn’t hesitate a moment and wrapped your own around his torso and laid your head against his chest. “Almost one in the morning, if i knew you were here i would have been sooner.” he said softly, rubbing your thigh with one hand while the other held you against him by your lower back. 

It took you a moment to remember how you even got in his apartment. You felt bad, you hadn’t said anything and left your phone at home. You looked up at him with watery eyes. “I'm sorry.” you say, voice clever but still only just above a whisper. 

Juice gave you a tender smile and shook his head. “I'm just glad your safe Babygirl, I was worried.” he told you. “What's going on, did something happen?” he then asked. 

You nodded slowly, remembering the phone call you got earlier that day and all the emotions you were sleeping to get away from came flooring back. Fresh tears filled your water line before falling quickly. Before your own hand could come up to swipe them away Juice was there, gently wiping the streaks from your cheeks and tucking your hair behind your ear. He let you take your time, slowly getting the words out. You hated how broken your voice sounded but you felt just a little better telling him. He reassured you over and over he was right there, take your time, he wasn't going to leave you alone. You managed to tell him everything you knew about what happened. He didn’t know what else to do at the moment but to hold and listen to you and for the moment it was just what you needed. Safe in his arms while you poured your bleeding heart to the man you loved and trusted the most in this world. 

With a shaky breath you finally  gave him a small smile, tears still streaming down your face. “I just… didn’t know what to do or where to go.” you said, as you snuggled closer to him. “I just got in my car and drove here.” you admitted. 

Juice smiled softly, he didn’t like the pain you were in but knowing he was such a big part of your life now just made him happy. “I'm glad you came here, wish you would have locked the door and told me so I didn’t have to panic.” he scolded you softly. 

You hummed in agreement. “I know, I'm sorry.” you repeated, you felt a little awkward now that he was home, actually there giving you the comfort you had been seeking when coming here. You couldn't help but apologize. Your tears continued to fall but lessened enough so your breathing could even out. Listening to Juice’s heart beat helped keep your head in reality. 

Juice shook his head again with a short low chuckle. “Baby, no need to apologize. I'm here for you and I just want to make sure you're safe.” he told you. “Next time maybe just leave me a message okay?”

“I will.” you agreed.

For a while you fell into a comfortable silence while you calmed down. Your tears stopped and your eyes felt heavy now. It was still late and you knew Juice must be exhausted. “You need sleep.” you say and go to stand but Juice's arms stop you from moving and instead pull you to sit with your back pressed against his chest. 

He nuzzled into your neck. “Not before I know you're going to be okay.” He says. 

You smile to yourself. He really was a good man. “I'm okay Juice, I promise.” you say and lean into his hold. “You’re here with me and that's enough, I cried it all out anyways.” You joke light heartedly. 

He kisses your shoulder and lets you back in bed before getting up with a grin. “Okay, tomorrow I'll make breakfast and we can do whatever you want, alright baby? I'm all yours.” he says while undressing, opting to take a shower in the morning and getting into bed next to you. 

You hummed in agreement and scoot closer to him, cursing up against his side and laying your head on his chest. You were glad he was home, now you felt like you could get some real rest and hold off your worries for a while.

[brunettemarionette]

"Dibs," Tig calls out as he starts walking towards you. The other guys grab him back, and they all start to argue over not being able to call dibs on this.

Unknown to them, an oblivious Opie who had been under a car was walking towards you with a friendly smile on his face. Clearly, he hadn't heard their squabbling.

Happy smacks the back of his hand against Jax's kutte as he motions with his head. They all turn to see you laughing at something Opie is saying.

"may the best man win…" Jax says quickly, making his way over as the others follow, trying to shove and knock each other down to get to you first.

[marvelous-slut]

MASTERLIST - you can find all my works here on this page. I hope you enjoyed reading them just as much as I enjoyed writing them. I don’t own any of the characters in these works.

* IM TRYING TO GET MY LINKS IN ORDER SO BARE WITH ME PLS *

SONS OF ANARCHY

Chibs Telford

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 Rats

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 Leather & Lace

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 Call Back pt. 1

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 Call Back pt. 2

Happy Lowman

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 Warmth

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 Bad Girlfriend

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 Revenge

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 Miss Me

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 Familiar Faces

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 Far Fetched Dreams

Tig Trager

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 Trash

Juice Ortiz

Nothing here yet - coming soon

Opie Winston

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 Rekindle

STRANGER THINGS

Dmitri Antonov

[witchthewriter]

𝐏𝐎𝐕: You’re Jax Teller’s Old Lady - this is what your photo album looks like. 

(the first photo is framed and hung in your house)