Obsessive - Part 32 - The Finale

The stalker is in Juice’s home and has attacked (Y/N). Can Juice intervene before its too late?

(This will be multi parts so check back for my next installment. As always, if you want to be notified of my updates just let me know and I will message you when I post new chapters)

A/N: Its been a wild ride, you guys. Thanks so much for supporting the story and giving me your feedback. I enjoyed hearing all the theories about what was going on, (from Jax and YN playing with a ouija board when they were little, to the intruder actually being ant-man), the commentary has been hilarious, and I loved every minute of it. I always said I wouldn’t write Juice unless the idea was good and this one was great, given to me by none other than @codenamekaraortiz. Yup, it was her little seed that she planted in my brain and let me grow it. I hope I did your idea justice love. And I’m sorry for tricking you guys with that fake finale, but I am a prankster deep down and it was really fun writing that ‘alternate ending’ lol. I’m a Tig girl, I can’t help myself! Thanks for sticking with me anyway, dolls, and I hope this finale is well worth the little trick I played on you earlier!!! -CJTM **Disclaimer: I do not suffer from OCD so I cannot begin to imagine what it is like. Any and everything that I am writing is what I’ve learned from people I know and the internet as well as asking advice from friends who know more about it than me. If anything is wrong or inaccurate of someone with OCD, please excuse my ignorance, as I said I am asking questions to help with the descriptions but I’m sure I will get something wrong eventually.

Juice Ortiz x Reader

(GIF isn’t mine) __________________

You woke up being jerked up from the couch by your hair, pain radiating through your head and neck as you struggled to find your feet and your voice. You heard Juice yell out, “Let her go!” and then you were stricken with fear. You knew without seeing him that John Howard was who had grabbed you. A thousand thoughts crossed through your mind in a matter of seconds. How did he find you here? What did he want with you now? Why was he so obsessed with getting to you? You yelped in pain as you were pulled backwards away from Juice. “J-JUICE!” You screamed a bloodcurdling scream, struggling against the perpetrator who had you by the hair, still trying to drag you away. Juice charged at the man, stopping short just as you felt something cold against your temple. A gun barrel.

“I will shoot your precious girlfriend in the head if you don’t BACK OFF Juan Carlos!” The man bellowed. “You took my gun?” he asked, his voice trembling. You looked up at Juice’s face, tears filling your eyes the same as they did his. All of a sudden you heard something behind you, and John must have as well as he let you go, spinning around to point his gun at Tig who appeared in the hall, boxers and kutte only, with his gun raised. As soon as you hit the ground you clawed your way to Juice who dropped to his knees to check on you. “Are you okay?” he panted, looking you over frantically. You couldn’t speak over your own breathing so you nodded, the floodgates opening as you began to sob. That moment was broken up when a gunshot rang throughout the house, John had fired his weapon.

“Tig!” Juice screamed, standing up to see that Tig had taken cover behind the living room wall. You scurried behind Juice as John turned back to face you, “She belongs to ME!” He screamed, making to lunge at you when another gunshot rang out, this time from Tig’s gun, hitting John in the leg. Juice sprang forward, tackling John to the ground and knocking the gun out of his hand. You screamed as the two of them struggled, Juice landing a few punches, then John getting the upper hand and landing a couple more. Tig rushed to your side, “We gotta get you out of here,” he spoke hastily, grabbing your arm and pulling you to your feet before grabbing the gun that has skittered across the floor and tucking it in his kutte. “No!” you struggled, “I can’t leave him!” you blubbered through tears.

“Doll I have one job that’s to keep you safe now let’s GO!” he urged, pulling your hand to take you away from the brawl that was going down in Juice’s living room.

 Tig pulled you out the front door, grabbing his phone out of his kutte that he wore over his naked back, and hitting #2 on the speed dial which called Clay. Clay picked up on the first ring. “She’s fine.” “He’s here, brother.” “Yeah you need to get here, now!” Tig implored your father before ending the call. As he lowered the phone from his ear there was a crashing sound from inside and you turned to run back inside, your arm pulled backward by none other than Mr. Trager himself. “I have to go!” you pleaded with him, “He’ll kill Juice!”

“I can’t let you go in there, (Y/N), I’m sorry.” You collapsed into a sobbing mess as you continued to hear the yells and crashes from inside the room, followed by motorcycle engines coming up the block.

Juice was battered and bruised. He was bleeding from his mouth and his nose, his knuckles busted up and his hand was most likely broken as he traded blows with the intruder in his home. He didn’t care about himself, he didn’t even care about winning the fight, he just hoped he could distract your attacker long enough for help to arrive. He was only worried about keeping him away from you.

Both men were exhausted, throwing punch after punch, rolling on the floor, returning to their feet and standing toe to toe before going back to the ground again. Juice punched John several times in the gunshot wound to his leg, causing him to yell out in agony as he assaulted the wound. Juice could hear you yelling for him outside the house, Tig’s even louder voice accompanying yours. He was comforted momentarily by the thought that you were safe outside with Tig as he felt a sharp pain in his abdomen, looking down to see blood pouring from his stomach. John had stabbed him.

The stinging was replaced with a white hot fire coming from the site of the bleeding as his vision blurred. He saw John grin, standing up and dusting himself off, “Time to go get my girl,” he taunted, panting, and headed towards the front door.

 You were crying into Tig’s shoulder as your father, Jax, and Chibs came running up. All of a sudden the front door opened and you blearily turned to see who was stepping out of the house. Tig, Clay, Jax, and Chibs stood, drawing their guns in the direction of the backlit body in the doorway. You didn’t have to see his face to know it wasn’t Juice. You wailed, stumbling to your feet to charge the man between you and your lover when he lurched forward, toppling down the front steps with Juice Ortiz standing behind him, panting breathlessly as John Howard thudded to a stop on the ground in front of you.

Juice dropped to his knees, clutching his stomach. As everything went black, your screams were the last thing he heard.

 “JUICE!” You cried, sprinting to his side and looking him over. He was bleeding profusely and you didn’t have to be a doctor to know he didn’t have long before he would bleed out. “Somebody do something!” you screamed, shaking him, trying to get him to remain conscious, “HELP!”

Tig, Clay, Jax and Chibs stood gaping at the scene, not sure of what to do.

“You have to DO SOMETHING,” you yelled at them through tears. 

All of a sudden, you saw the body of John Howard resurrected, standing up and turning towards you, “You BITCH!” he yelled, raising a fist before three gunshots rang out and he jolted, falling to the ground again, this time for good. As Jax, Clay and Tig each put their guns away, Clay pulled out his phone and called 911. You cradled Juice’s lifeless head in your lap as you sobbed over his body and Chibs rushed over to start attending to his wounds. 

 xXxXxXx

 “Good morning,” a sweet voice called as he stirred, waking from a long and very strange dream. Juice opened his eyes to see you, sitting by his bedside in a hospital room. The pain in his stomach was the next sensation he discovered, wincing as he moved to get a better look at you. “Hey…” he spoke feebly, his voice as beat up as his face, body, and hands.

“How are you feeling?” You asked, typing a text to Jax, letting him know Juice was awake, before putting your phone away and standing to walk over to his side.

“I feel like I fought a crazed lunatic,” he smirked, resting his head back against his pillow as you took his hand.

“You saved my life, Juice,” you told him earnestly, “I can never repay you for it.” “Yeah, well,” he blushed a bit, “maybe a kiss is a good start,” he smiled and you leaned down to plant one on his lips, his hand finding the side of your face as he deepened the kiss, pressing his tongue into your mouth.

 A whistle broke the two of you apart and you looked at Juice to see his blush was strong now, your cheeks adopting their own shade of crimson as well. Jax, Tig, Chibs, Clay, Gemma and Bobby were filing into the room followed by Tara who was making her rounds, filling in for a colleague, and was there to check on him for the morning.

“Hey guys,” Juice grinned, trying to sit up and waving his casted hand at the horde standing before him. He was obviously happy to see his family, and you couldn’t blame him, you were happy to see them too.    “Juice,” your dad spoke sternly, causing you and he to furrow your brows at Clay’s complicated response. Clay walked to his bedside, frustration and disappointment in his eyes as he stood beside you and looked down at your boyfriend. Juice was visibly tormented, gulping loudly as Clay huffed heavily, “I can’t believe….” he trailed off, “that you would lay your life on the line to protect my baby girl,” Clay smiled. “I had doubts about you. I didn’t think your head was in the right place. I didn’t think you would put yourself between (Y/N) and danger but you proved me wrong. There’s no better man I’d rather have for my daughter than you, Juice.” Juice reached his hand out and Clay slapped it away, leaning down to hug the younger man as the rest of your family in the room ‘awwed’ and ‘whooped’.

Obsessive - Part 32 - Alternate ending

... (This will be multi parts so check back for my next installment. As always, if you want to be notified of my updates just let me know and I will message you when I post new chapters) **Disclaimer: I do not suffer from OCD so I cannot begin to imagine what it is like. Any and everything that I am writing is what I’ve learned from people I know and the internet as well as asking advice from friends who know more about it than me. If anything is wrong or inaccurate of someone with OCD, please excuse my ignorance, as I said I am asking questions to help with the descriptions but I’m sure I will get something wrong eventually.

Juice Ortiz x Reader

(GIF isn’t mine) __________________

NO!

You woke with a start, sweat pouring down your face, heart racing. It had seemed so real. “You okay, darlin?” the calming voice washed over you, removing all the fear in your body, “Guess we fell asleep on the couch again,” he chuckled. You turned to face him, his arms wrapped around you made you feel immediately better. That dream had been horrendous. “I just… I had a nightmare,” you sighed, suddenly noticing tears running down your cheeks. You guessed the nightmare had affected you even more than you knew. “What about?” he asked, wiping away one of the rogue teardrops from your cheek with his thumb. “I dreamt that I was--” “--Everything okay?” You were interrupted before you could begin to tell your story by your additional houseguest standing in the hallway, “I heard someone scream,” he finished. “It was me,” you answered, “I just had a bad dream. It’s okay….” you trailed off, “I’m sorry.” “No reason to be sorry, doll,” Tig assured you.

“I guess I’ll go back to bed, then,” Juice spoke, turning around and walking back to the guest room of Tig’s house. “What was the dream about?” Tig asked as you settled back against his chest and his hands traced patterns across your back. “Well,” you began, “For starters…” you trailed off for a moment, trying to figure out how to phrase what you had to say, “....I was with Juice.” Tig’s eyes widened and he scoffed, “Wow that IS scary,” he chuckled and you rolled your eyes at his joke. “What else, sweetheart?” he asked as his laughter died down. “Well… I had a stalker, who wanted to kill me, or something, I don’t know…. But he had me. He was trying to take me… That’s when I woke up.” “Nothing like that will ever happen on my watch,” Tig assured you, pressing his lips to yours, “ever.” You smiled against his kiss, “And no more dreaming about my brothers,” he poked your ribs in jest, “Alright?” “Yes Tiggy,” you grinned, holding him tightly and nuzzling into his neck. “C’mon,” he patted you on the butt, “Let’s go to bed, you know my back is bad, I shouldn’t be sleeping on this couch,” Tig told you as you began to sit up, taking your old man’s hand and leading him down the hall to your bedroom. Thank God it was all just a dream.

Obsessive - Part 31

If the stalker wasn’t at his apartment.... Where was he? (This will be multi parts so check back for my next installment. As always, if you want to be notified of my updates just let me know and I will message you when I post new chapters) **Disclaimer: I do not suffer from OCD so I cannot begin to imagine what it is like. Any and everything that I am writing is what I’ve learned from people I know and the internet as well as asking advice from friends who know more about it than me. If anything is wrong or inaccurate of someone with OCD, please excuse my ignorance, as I said I am asking questions to help with the descriptions but I’m sure I will get something wrong eventually.

Juice Ortiz x Reader

(GIF isn’t mine) __________________

You were talking to Opie about his kids when the rest of the guys rounded the corner of your apartment building. As they walked up to you, you could see in your father’s face an expression of worry. 

Your jaw set, you had expected them to be relieved, accomplished, not shaken up. Juice climbed into the truck and looked at you as the rest of the guys took off down the road to their bikes. “Hall Closet had a false back. He got in and out behind the camera, without the front door. The only reason he used the door when he attacked you is because he didn’t want to give up his secret, I guess. But it looks like maybe he fled because all his things are gone from his apartment.”    He let out an exasperated sigh. Neither of you truly believed he was gone for good. Even though you were astounded to hear this information, you could see Juice was unsettled by what was discovered. He needed reassurance. You reached over, placing a hand on his knee, “Hey,” you spoke, “It’s over. He is gone.” You smiled at him optimistically and he took a deep breath, forcing a smile back at you as the chorus of bikes firing up down the road broke your focus and he started the truck.

“What do you think we oughta do brother?” Tig asked Clay as you all walked up to the clubhouse. “I don’t know Tig. I can’t think straight. I need to time to mull this over tonight and we can figure everything out in the mor--” Clay’s sentence was cut short as the door to the clubhouse was swung open to reveal the chaos inside.

“Mary mother of….” Chibs gasped as he pulled out his gun, Tig, Happy, and Jax doing the same and taking off in separate directions to look for the culprit. As you finally made it through the door with Juice, you could see someone had completely trashed the main bar room. The mug shot wall was now just a few broken frames hanging awry, the rest of the photographs shattered on the floor. None of the bar stools were intact, the liquor bottles behind the bar were all smashed, the jukebox had a hole in the glass, and the doors to the chapel were off their hinges. “He did this…” Juice whispered, aghast. You turned and buried your head in his chest, wrapping your arms around his waist and clamped your eyes shut as he instinctively held you back, stroking your hair and looking around at the horror in front of him. Your dad, finally coming to grips with everything, began barking orders, “Bobby, check the garage, make sure the bastard isn’t out there tearing more shit up.” Bobby nodded and pulled his gun, turning to walk across the lot with Opie in tow backing him up. “Tig!” Clay bellowed, “Get in here!” Tig appeared from the kitchen behind the bar, “Yeah boss?” “Take (Y/N) to my house. Do not take your eyes off of her, not even for a second. It’s not safe here for (Y/N) anymore,” your father ordered and your head shot up from Juice’s chest, eyes wide. The last place you wanted to be was at your mommy and daddy’s house, and somehow you knew deep down that Clay and Gemma’s wasn’t safe for you.

Tig began to round the bar as you cleared your throat, catching Clay’s attention who turned to look at you, “Baby I know you don’t want to go but I have to keep you safe,” he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Whatsa matter, doll?” Tig asked as he walked up, “You ashamed of being seen with your old pal, Tigger?”

You half-smiled before eyeing your dad, glancing over your shoulder to Juice and back to Clay, who, despite his visible anger over the vandalism in his clubhouse, smiled half-heartedly, shaking his head. “Alright,” he started, “This guy seems to have been a step ahead of us this whole time. Cleaning out his apartment before we showed up, coming here when he knew we’d be gone. He probably expects me to send you to my house,” he sighed, “So I’ll let you go with Juice,” he paused, “BUT only if you take Tig with you.” “Deal,” you said, with Clay opening his arms to hug you. As you stepped into his embrace, he placed a kiss on the top of your head. “Thanks, Clay,” Juice said as he took your hand to lead you out of the clubhouse. He knew how big of a deal it was to be trusted by Clay to protect you and keep you safe. Even if he did have Tig tagging along. Clay patted Juice on the back, “Not a scratch, brother,” Clay said, meeting Juice’s eyes. Juice nodded back before leading you out, with Tig close behind.

You stepped off of Juice’s bike. He had taken a couple detours, backtracking a few times to make sure you weren’t followed. It extended the 10 minute drive home into 25 minutes, but you didn’t mind. If it meant you’d get to be with Juice, somewhere you felt safe and where your compulsions didn’t drive you nuts, you’d gladly drive for hours. You, Juice and Tig walked up the driveway to Juice’s front door, Juice unlocked the door and you stepped inside, followed by Tig with your overnight bag, and Juice stepped in last, closing and locking the door.

His house was immaculate. Everything was extremely clean, organized, the kind of home that didn’t make your skin crawl. “Am I on the couch?” Tig asked Juice, you could tell he had been here before by how comfortably he tossed your bag on the couch and then plopped down on the big armchair in the living room. “No,” Juice hesitated, looking from you, back to Tig, “No you can take the spare room.” Tig raised his eyebrows, “Alright then,” he smiled, “I’m gonna take a shower, leave you guys to it,” he stood and grabbed your bag, looking at Juice for guidance. “You can put it in my room,” Juice answered. Another grin reached across Tig’s face, “Okay,” he spoke as he turned to walk down the hall.

“You gonna give me a tour?” you smiled, taking his hand in yours and squeezing it. He sighed at your touch, turning to face you and taking your free hand in his. “It’s been a long day, (Y/N). How about we just watch TV for a little bit?” You didn’t care what you did, to be honest, as long as you were close to your man. “Alright then,” you smiled as you sat down on the couch and he sat beside you, grabbing the remote and turning on the TV. You snuggled into his side as he flipped through the channels.

Juice woke with a pain in his neck. Stretching, he realized that you and he must’ve fallen asleep on the couch. 

He made a move to stand when he heard it, a whisper. 

He felt his hip for his gun but it wasn’t there. Slowly, he turned towards the sound he heard to see you, asleep, your head resting on the opposite couch arm. Above you, silhouetted only by the light coming from the muted television, was another body. 

He knew instantly who it was. 

It wasn’t Tig. 

It was him. 

John Howard. 

In the low light, Juice could see that the face turned towards him. He tried to find his resolve, to speak firmly and without fear, yet his voice was still wavering when he asked, “Why are you here? W-What do you want?”

“Her,” he responded, reaching down and grabbing you, still asleep, by your scalp and yanking you up from the couch with a jerk.  

Obsessive - Part 30

Time to go scumbag hunting :) (This will be multi parts so check back for my next installment. As always, if you want to be notified of my updates just let me know and I will message you when I post new chapters) **Disclaimer: I do not suffer from OCD so I cannot begin to imagine what it is like. Any and everything that I am writing is what I’ve learned from people I know and the internet as well as asking advice from friends who know more about it than me. If anything is wrong or inaccurate of someone with OCD, please excuse my ignorance, as I said I am asking questions to help with the descriptions but I’m sure I will get something wrong eventually.

Juice Ortiz x Reader

(GIF isn’t mine) __________________

You walked out of the chapel to see guns strewn across the bar and Opie and Happy in bulletproof vests. Juice squeezed your shoulder from behind you and you turned around to face him, “You should stay here, just in case. I don’t want you to get hurt.” “It’s a little too late for that, Juice,” you responded, pointing to the scar above your eyebrow from your accidental encounter with the man they were getting ready to go after. Juice sighed in response and nodded, placing a soft kiss on your lips and pulling you into a hug before stepping past you to arm up with the rest of his brothers. 

As Juice walked away, Clay approached you. “I hope you understand why we kept this from you baby,” he looked like he was ready to weather a storm, but you knew he had only kept the info from you because it was tough to listen to and even tougher being the one to tell it.

“It’s okay,” you smiled at him, “You were protecting me.” He gave you a half-hearted smile as he pulled you into a hug and kissed the top of your head, “I know you want to go with us, but I don’t want you going into the apartment. I’ll keep someone back to watch after you while we go up, okay?” You nodded as he passed you by and Tig hugged you as well, “I’m glad you finally know the truth, doll,” he spoke quietly, “We all love you like you’re Clay and Gemma’s kid anyway, but I’m happy you know what they did for you.” “What you all did for me, Tiggy,” you spoke through a grin as you stepped back from his hug and he smiled back to you, looking down and blushing a little bit, “Yeah, well, you know…” he trailed off and Jax patted him on the back as he moved to stand beside Tig in front of you. “You ready to go scumbag hunting, sis?” Jax asked, a grin on his face that you could tell was just a cover-up for the disgust and hurt he was feeling on your behalf. “As ready as I’ll ever be!” you chirped back and Jax grinned again, wrapping an arm around you and steering you over to the rest of SAMCRO who were just about ready to ride out.

 You pulled up to your apartment, riding in the tow truck with Juice while the rest of the guys parked their bikes down the block. Juice had both hands on the steering wheel, staring straight ahead, his eyes focused on nothing in particular. As he spaced out, you watched him, anxiety was written all over him, from his tense shoulders to his tightly clenched jaw, you knew he was stressed about what was coming.

“Hey…” you whispered, snapping him out of his daze, “...it’s gonna be fine.” You placed your hand on his forearm and looked into his dark brown eyes, “He can’t hurt me anymore. We know who he is now and we will find him,” you smiled reassuringly, “YOU will find him.” Juice scoffed and smiled, shaking his head, “Yeah…. Yeah I know,” he took your hand and brought it to his lips, kissing your knuckles softly, “Stay here.” He opened the door to the truck and hopped out, leaving you alone except for Opie who was standing right outside your window. You nodded to him, and he nodded back as you took a deep breath and watched the rest of the Sons walk around the corner and out of sight. 

 Juice couldn’t shake the feeling that he was walking into a trap. He and his brothers were heavily armed, but he had a sick feeling of impending doom as if something bad was about to happen. As they approached your door, the prospect guarding your door stood, confused, but relieved to see familiar faces. “What’s going on?” he asked, noticing the serious demeanor of the gang walking towards him, “Did something happen to (Y/N)?” His question was unanswered as Clay spoke up, “Hap, which neighbor is it?” he asked as Happy pointed past the door “That one,” he rasped, “208.” Clay turned to the prospect then, “Has the neighbor in 208 come or gone since you’ve been here?” he asked but was met with a negative shake of the prospect’s head.    “I say we just bust in there, boss, try to catch the fucker off guard,” Tig suggested and a couple of the guys nodded in agreement. “Or,” Jax interjected, “Maybe we don’t act like gangsters and we go in quietly. Draw less attention to ourselves.” Everyone shrugged and nodded, looking to Juice. Juice sighed, stepping forward to pick the lock, but upon reaching the door, he noticed it wasn’t locked at all. He looked to Clay, twisting the knob and pushing the door open as everyone except Bobby, who was posted outside as a lookout, filed in with their guns drawn.

 The unit was laid out exactly like yours, only the mirror image of it. Your kitchen was on the right, this kitchen was on the left, the dining area in your unit was on the left, his on the right, and so on. The only other difference was this apartment was empty. Too empty. Empty like it was meant to be found this way.

“Let’s have a look around see if we can find anything,” Clay whispered and the rest of the men spread out throughout the apartment, leaving Juice standing there next to his President. “I don’t like this Clay. Guy just ups and takes off for no reason? What sense does that make? He had no reason to believe that we were on to him…” “Maybe something that happened when you came back over here spooked him,” Clay suggested and Juice nodded uncomfortably, “Yeah, maybe…” he replied nervously as he walked through the living room and into the bedroom where Chibs was looking around. He paused momentarily before entering into the bathroom where Jax was digging through cabinets. He was just about to lend a hand when Happy’s voice rang throughout the apartment. “Oh Fuck. Clay!” Happy yelled, pulling all of the guys inside the apartment from their respective locations and towards the sound of his voice. Juice rounded the corner to find Happy standing outside the hall closet, and when he stepped up to stand beside Happy he realized why he had yelled.

 The closet had no back, instead there was a hole in the sheet rock. Juice couldn’t see through it because something was covering the way, but with one small shove the false wall gave way, falling and opening up into the closet that backed up to it. Your hall closet.

“Shit!” Juice cursed, turning and beginning to head out the door towards your apartment as Happy began to climb through the hole in your neighbor’s closet.

 Juice walked in your front door with Clay and Tig just in time to see Happy emerge from the closet, both of their guns were drawn. After a quick sweep of the rooms they settled back in front of the closet peering through to the other side where Chibs and Jax were standing, dumbfounded, staring back at them.

“So this is how he’s been comin and goin’, the bastard,” Chibs shook his head with disgust.

Juice turned to Clay, “What are we gonna do?” his voice was dripping with stress.

Obsessive - Part 29

Happy has seen the guy, but who is he? *Mentions of extreme child abuse* (This will be multi parts so check back for my next installment. As always, if you want to be notified of my updates just let me know and I will message you when I post new chapters) **Disclaimer: I do not suffer from OCD so I cannot begin to imagine what it is like. Any and everything that I am writing is what I’ve learned from people I know and the internet as well as asking advice from friends who know more about it than me. If anything is wrong or inaccurate of someone with OCD, please excuse my ignorance, as I said I am asking questions to help with the descriptions but I’m sure I will get something wrong eventually.

Juice Ortiz x Reader

(GIF isn’t mine) __________________

Happy’s revelation made something click in Juice’s head. The reason he recognized the guy in the photo, the reason he thought the guy looked familiar, was because he ran into him that day he took you to see Tara.

“Oh my God,” Juice gasped, “I’ve seen him too, at the hospital.” He let go of your hand as he ran his hands over the top of his head. “Well now that we know where he lives, let’s go talk to the son of a bitch!” Tig growled, his fists slamming down on the table followed by a chorus of shouts and whoops. You had been quiet, listening to everything and trying to take it in, but nothing made sense.

“Wait!” you shouted, looking over to your dad who was staring back at you, “I don’t understand, is he…” you trailed off, trying to make your mouth say the words as you fidgeted with your hands, “is he my… real dad?” The room got quiet and you shifted your stare to Tig who looked at you sadly and then looked to Piney who caught your eye for a moment but then peered down at his lap. You felt Juice’s hand back on your knee and you intertwined your fingers with his as everyone looked from you back to Clay. “No baby,” he said with a sigh, “I guess it’s time to tell you the real story of how you ended up here,” you felt your heart rate increase, as Clay looked around the table, “Tig, Jax, you two stay. Everyone else, clear out and get ready to go pay our apartment-dwelling creep a visit tonight.”

Piney, Opie, Chibs, Bobby and Happy stood to walk outside, but as Juice prepared to stand and join them, your grip tightened on his hand causing him to look at you pleadingly, the purple under his eyes and across his nose sending you the message that he didn’t want to anger Clay again. Without looking away from Juice you spoke to your father, “Dad, can Juice stay, please? I want him to know, too.” Clay looked at you and back to Juice before nodding and allowing Juice to stay. Happy closed the door as he exited the room and Jax was the first to speak, “Why don’t I know about this?” he asked, his piercing eyes shooting daggers at Clay. The two were always at odds, but this time you understood why. Jax was the VP of the charter and knew nothing, same as you.

“This shit happened before you even had a license Jax,” Clay said defensively, “By the time you were a part of the club, it was old news. Until today I had no reason to believe he was a threat to SAMCRO or your sister.”

You could tell Clay was exhausted, and getting the third degree from Jax wasn’t making his mood any better. “Who is he, dad?” you asked, trying to break up some of the tension that was coursing between Jax and Clay. Clay looked at Tig who nodded to him reassuringly as they both took a deep breath and looked at you.

“(Y/N), your mom wasn’t a drug addicted porn star, she was a junkie and a whore,” he began and you looked down at the table, gently tapping the table top as you listened for the rest of the story to find out how John Howard fit into it all. Tig picked up where your father left off,  “She was turning tricks out of Oakland for this guy, John Howard. He was her pimp.” Clay nodded in agreement and carried on talking, “According to your mom, she had a regular that she ended up falling in love with.”   “Yeah. The only problem though, was that Howard wanted her for himself when she wasn’t working for him, so she had to keep her relationship with this guy a secret. Started seeing him without Howard knowing and not making him pay,” Tig added, “Big no-no in her line of work…” You felt Juice’s grip on your hand tighten and you looked over to him, this story was getting crazier with every new sentence.

“So she ended up pregnant–”

“–with me?” you interrupted, and Clay and Tig both nodded. Jax looked from you back to Clay, “Okay so what happened that caused (Y/N) to end up here?” he asked and you shifted your gaze between Tig and Clay again, waiting for one of them to answer. “Well,” Clay began, “The pregnancy went well I guess. Howard went through it all believing you were his, got your mom to stop the drugs so you’d be healthy, he did everything right.” “Yeah,” Tig agreed, “If it wasn’t for what happened after you were born we’d have thought he was the perfect guy to be your father, we wouldn’t have stepped in…” “But how did you even know these people to feel the need to step in?” you asked, not understanding how the club could be tied to a pimp based in Oakland. “Our paths crossed by accident,” Clay answered you. You could tell there was a long story ahead, “After you were born, Howard started getting suspicious. You didn’t look like him and the older you got the more he could tell you didn’t look like your mom either. I guess he started questioning his other whores and one of them talked because Howard beat your mom pretty bad. She told him who your father most likely was, the client she had been dating, and Howard found him, killed him, and dumped him in Charming.” Your questioning expression was replaced with one of understanding as it all began to make sense. “So you found out this pimp was who dumped the body and went to tell him he couldn’t do that in our town…” you guessed, looking at Tig who smiled approvingly and nodded, “Yep,” he answered, “took a little convincing, but he ended up seeing things our way.” Tig grinned again. “So was her dad the dead guy in the photo that was sent to me?” Juice asked and Clay nodded, “That was (Y/N)’s real father, as far as we know.”

Jax blinked, looking from you back to Clay once again, shaking his head. “It still doesn’t add up,” he spoke, “Did you take (Y/N) to prove a point?” Clay shook his head no and continued on with his story, “No. We left Oakland and a few hours after we made it back to Charming, a lady shows up looking for me. Turns out your mom heard our heart-to-heart with the pimp and decided to ask for the club’s help in getting you clear of it all… ‘cause…” Clay trailed off, you could tell whatever was coming next was hard for him to relive. Even Tig shifted in his seat from unease so you knew whatever was coming was about to be bad.

“Because John had given your mother a choice–” “–A shitty fucking choice,” Tig scoffed, interrupting Clay and shaking his head with disgust.

“Either he’d kill your mom, and have you taken to an orphanage,” your dad spoke softly, “or he’d let her live and keep you, but he would use you to…” he trailed off, unable to make his mouth say the words as he hung his head. Tig reached over and patted his shoulder, taking a deep breath and looking at you, “He was gonna spare your mother’s life, but only if she willingly let him….” Tig took a deep breath, breaking eye contact with you as he looked away and his hand rubbed his face, “If she let him pimp you out.”

Your heart dropped and Jax cussed under his breath as Juice wrapped his arm around you and pulled you even closer to him. Your eyes began to water as you asked the only question you could think of, “And she said yes….?” your voice cracked, betraying you as you tried to remain strong, to show your dad, Tig, your brother, and Juice that you could handle the entire truth.

“Yeah,” was all Clay could say in response, he had aged ten years from the start of this conversation.. “She realized quickly that she had made a mistake which is why she came to us, doll.” Tig looked at you with sad eyes and nodded to let you know it was okay to be upset, “She knew she couldn’t save you alone, and as soon as we found out what would happen to you if we didn’t step in… It was a no-brainer.”

Clay looked up and began to speak again, having found his resolve once again, “Gemma made me swear that once I got you out of there, that I’d never allow you to go back to your birth-mother–” “–but that didn’t end up being an issue,” Tig finished and you furrowed your brows at him questioningly.

Suddenly, all the dots connected for Juice and he looked up at Clay, “(Y/N)’s mom is Rachel Smith?” he half-asked, half-stated. Clay and Tig both nodded again. “Yes.” Clay answered, “We came in and snuck you away when Howard was out. I brought you back up here, and Gemma took you home. A few days later we heard news that Rachel Smith was killed and John Howard had been charged with her murder.” Juice looked at you. "We paid a lawyer to draft some paperwork and forge some documents willing us custody of you should anything happen to your mother, and we followed the case until John was sentenced…” “…and that’s pretty much where the story ended, until the sick bastard apparently got out of prison with a fixation on you.” Tig added, leaning back in his seat, relieved to finally have that story off his chest. Now you could see there was a fire in his eyes. Tig wanted to kill this man, the man that killed both of your biological parents and threatened to scar you for life. You wanted to kill John Howard, too.

Obsessive - Part 28

Clay knows who the stalker / attacker is. What happens next? (This will be multi parts so check back for my next installment. As always, if you want to be notified of my updates just let me know and I will message you when I post new chapters) **Disclaimer: I do not suffer from OCD so I cannot begin to imagine what it is like. Any and everything that I am writing is what I’ve learned from people I know and the internet as well as asking advice from friends who know more about it than me. If anything is wrong or inaccurate of someone with OCD, please excuse my ignorance, as I said I am asking questions to help with the descriptions but I’m sure I will get something wrong eventually.

Juice Ortiz x Reader

(GIF isn’t mine) __________________

“Come on.” Happy was walking towards you and motioned with his arm for you to stand up, “Gotta go pack a bag.” You started to protest but Happy kept talking, “Clay’s orders (Y/N). You don’t have to like it, just gotta do it.” You sighed, knowing there was no way you could tell the Unholy One ‘no’. Chibs patted you on the leg and stood up, clapping Happy on the shoulder and steering him away a few steps, “How’d Clay take seeing Juicey boy? Didnae hear any yelling so I assume it went okay?”

Happy nodded, “They got some threats--” he began but Chibs nodded, “Aye, (Y/N) tol’ me. What else?”

“Needs you to call everyone and get’em up here.” Happy rasped.

“Now? Its almost 9…” Chibs questioned but Happy only nodded his head in response, “Must be big….” Chibs exhaled heavily and turned back to you, “...Alright, I’ll give everyone a call,” he raised his eyebrows at you and extended his hand to help you up.

“What do I need to pack exactly?” you huffed at Happy who stood behind you, hands in his pockets as you pulled several neatly folded shirts, jeans, and dresses out of your dresser.. He shrugged as if to say he had no idea and you sighed, “Hap, do you at least know how LONG I need to pack for?”

Another shrug.

You grumbled at him as you stomped past, walking out of your bedroom into the hallway. If it hadn’t been for all the time you had spent with Happy recently, you never would’ve felt so comfortable giving the Killer attitude, but now you knew he’d never hurt you so you had no problem expressing your true feelings, even if they were unfairly directed at him. You opened the hall closet to pull out some sheets and a few towels, if your dad was gonna force you to sleep at the clubhouse, you’d need clean towels and linens in order to make yourself feel less unclean. You gathered a fitted sheet and a flat sheet that had fallen off the shelf and re-folded them, placing them in your bag and grabbing a couple towels as well.

“John Howard?” Juice questioned Clay, “How do you know who he is?” “Its a long story, Juice, one that I don’t want to have to tell twice. Just get all the info you can on the guy before church, and a current address if there is one available,” Clay sighed a deep, stressful sigh, “I’ll give you and everyone else the rundown when they get here.” Juice nodded and turned to walk off to the bedroom in the back of the clubhouse, but halted and spun back around, “Hey Clay?” he spoke, getting the older man’s attention, “I’m sorry you found out about me and (Y/N) the way you did….” he trailed off for a moment, “...It wasn’t my intentions to keep any secrets from you, but things got complicated really fast and--” “--It’s okay Juice,” Clay cut him off, “I forget sometimes that when it comes to her and Gemma… they’re not club business…. I can’t just keep her away from you all. But she’s my little girl, and I love her. I just want her to be safe. You get that, right?” “Alright, yeah…” Juice replied before smiling to his President and marching down the hall with purpose.

Juice stared at the mugshot of the man Clay had ordered him to research. The man in the picture was young, so the photo couldn’t have been taken long after the picture of ‘Emily’ had been, who Juice now was completely convinced was actually you as a baby. He pulled up the perpetrator’s rap sheet, a long list of misdemeanors and small offenses, all relating to drugs or prostitution, except for one, the last one. First Degree manslaughter, 25 years. He took a deep breath and exhaled, this guy had just gotten out of prison 6 months ago, it made sense now why the stalking had seemed to just begin out of nowhere, but there was no current address. Juice gathered the info he had printed, including the mugshot, and closed his laptop just in time to hear voices drifting down the hall. It was time to go to church and learn the truth about (Y/N)’s stalker.

“She was just about to wrap her lips around my dick when Chibs called. It better be worth a skipped blowjob man…”  you heard Tig telling Bobby as he followed behind you and Happy walking into the clubhouse. You rolled your eyes. Of course it was important, it was about your stalker. Happy had your bag slung over his shoulder as he guided you to the bar and set your things on the counter top. Non-members weren’t allowed in the Chapel during a meeting unless it was absolutely necessary. You grabbed a seat on the stool and watched as Tig, Bobby, Chibs, Happy, Jax, Opie, and finally Piney and Juice filed into the chapel. Before closing the door behind him, Juice turned to look at you, his expression unreadable as he nodded in your direction and you smiled softly back, wondering what was going on inside.

The gavel slammed down, marking the beginning of church for everyone inside. Clay gazed around the room, landing on Juice as he took a deep breath and sighed heavily. Juice could feel his heart thumping in his chest as he awaited the information, but he felt bad that the one person this affected the most wasn’t able to sit in.

“Where’s (Y/N)?” Clay asked to the room, but was looking at Juice as he spoke. Happy was the first to respond, “I… uh, She’s...not a member, boss.”

“This is about (Y/N)?” Jax and Bobby asked to a deaf ear as Clay shook his head, “Go get her, someone, please. She needs to hear this.”

You were looking through your phone, when the chapel door opened and Chibs called to you, “(Y/N), yer dad wants ye in here, love,” he winked at you as you stood from your seat, and walked over to the door, trying to fight back the grin that was on your face. You were a little too happy to be sitting in on a club meeting. You stepped past Chibs who closed the door behind you as you scanned the room. All eyes were on you, but your eyes caught Juice’s and you walked around the table, behind Piney, to pull up a seat beside him. Your dad smiled at you half-heartedly as Chibs sat back down and he began to speak. “You all know that some piece of shit attacked my little girl about a month ago,” Clay paused as there was a chorus of nods and mumbles throughout the room, “and today I got some information about who it might be. Juice..?” he trailed off prompting Juice to stand and hand a picture with a mugshot on it to Jax and another to Clay.

“John Howard.” Clay said and Tig and Piney both sucked in a harsh breath, cursing in whispers swept around the room as you sat, not understanding what some of the people in the room obviously already knew. Juice passed another sheet of paper over to Jax as the mugshots circulated around the table and began to speak, “He did 25 years in a state penitentiary for first degree manslaughter in the death of a woman named Rachel Smith, court documents say prosecution was going for second degree murder at the time, and even with all the evidence really stacking up that way, Howard had apparently hired the best defense attorney in the state and they got it bumped down to manslaughter. He got out six months ago, but his release is where his trail goes cold.” Juice stopped speaking and sat down beside you, taking your hand in his as the room filled with more whispers. “Why do we think this is the guy that’s been following her?” Chibs asked, leaning his elbows on the table top.

Your father sighed and leaned back in his chair, “Someone sent a photograph to her….” he trailed off, hesitant to continue talking, “....of John Howard and her when she was an infant.”

You weren’t honestly surprised, at this point you had figured out that the infant in the old Polaroid was you. You were just relieved that the club knew the person who had been tormenting you. “Because of the threats that were sent to Juice, I have reason to believe that he is the--” “--Boss,” Happy interrupted Clay, standing up from his seat at the end of the table, “I’ve seen this guy,” he was clutching one of the mugshots in his hand. “He’s (Y/N)’s neighbor.”

Obsessive - Part 27

What’s gonna happen when they try to tell Clay? Will he even let Juice speak? (This will be multi parts so check back for my next installment. As always, if you want to be notified of my updates just let me know and I will message you when I post new chapters) **Disclaimer: I do not suffer from OCD so I cannot begin to imagine what it is like. Any and everything that I am writing is what I’ve learned from people I know and the internet as well as asking advice from friends who know more about it than me. If anything is wrong or inaccurate of someone with OCD, please excuse my ignorance, as I said I am asking questions to help with the descriptions but I’m sure I will get something wrong eventually.

Juice Ortiz x Reader

(GIF isn’t mine) __________________

You pulled up to TM on Juice’s bike and it was already dark. Chibs and Happy were sitting outside, their bikes were the only ones in the lot apart from Clay, who was undoubtedly sitting at the head of the table inside the chapel as he usually did when he had things to think over. You slid Juice’s bag off your shoulders and handed it to him, “I think you should stay outside with Chibs and Happy,” he cautioned and you nodded as he took your hand and led you up to the pavilion where his brothers were sitting at a picnic table. You let his hand go and he began heading towards the door, while you took your place at the picnic table beside Happy who nodded to you.

Chibs was already on his feet, jogging towards Juice who he headed off at the door to the clubhouse.

“Think abou’ what yer doin’ Juicey,” he warned, blocking the younger man’s path, “Clay is pissed at you.”

Juice huffed, “Chibs, it might seem like everything is fine now but it won’t be for very long. I need to talk to Clay. Move,” he reached an arm out to push Chibs aside who let out an exasperated chuckle and gripped the young biker’s wrist, “Aye, it migh’ be okay for you, but it ain’t okay for Clay. I’m no’ lettin’ ye go in there an’ have yourself killed over the lass because you want to be honorable. Ye already got two black eyes, boy.” Chibs finished speaking and looked over to you, sitting on the table beside Happy who was leaned back, rolling a toothpick around in his mouth. He motioned with his head to Happy, beckoning him over, but you stayed planted on the bench, not wanting to be tied up in the drama any more than you already were..

“Chibs,” Juice sighed, beginning to show his agitation, “(Y/N) is in danger and her father needs to know. You can get out of my way or you can fucking come with me but I’m going in there brother.” He was determined to go in, just as Chibs was determined to stop him. “Juicey, I’m lookin’ out for yer best interest here…” Chibs trailed off as Juice huffed and glared back at the Scotsman.

The two men stared each other down for what felt like hours, but in reality it was only a few seconds before Chibs sucked in a deep breath and sighed, stepping away from the door and allowing Juice to pass.

“Hap, go with him,” Chibs ordered and Happy nodded, following behind the youngest biker as they both disappeared behind the heavy clubhouse door.

Juice was walking towards the chapel when he felt Happy’s hand on his shoulder. He turned around to look at his taller brother, who fixed him with a hard and protective look, “Maybe I should go in first…” Happy’s raspy tone trailed off and Juice swallowed, nodding and allowing Happy to overtake him and step in through the chapel door first. Juice’s heart was racing as he walked inside behind Happy to see Clay sitting at the head of the table. His cigar was in one hand, his other hand stretched out on the large Oak table, his pistol only inches away from his fingertips. For a moment, Juice hesitated to step inside, but then he remembered how important the information he had was, so he swallowed down the fear he was harboring, and stepped up, beginning to speak.

“Um, C-Clay…” his voice faltered causing Clay to lift his gaze to meet his own, “I, um… I wasn’t completely honest with you earlier... There’s, uh, something I need to tell you...” he paused, “when I left here I went to (Y/N)’s house and I ended up finding something that you need to see.” “Unless it concerns my little girl’s safety--” “--It does, Clay,” the anxiety in Juice’s voice made Clay tense but he said nothing. He glared at Juice as Happy stood beside him until finally Juice broke the silence again.

“Look, what happened between (Y/N) and I…” he paused, slinging his backpack off his shoulder and setting it on the table in front of him. “I wanted it to happen and so did she. I really care about her Clay, but I received a threat from someone right after we spent a night together--”

Clay stood up, his chair screeching against the wood floors causing Juice to stop abruptly and take a step back defensively.

“Show me what you have,” Clay ordered as he leaned over the head of the table, placing his cigar in the ashtray.

Juice took a deep breath, gulping loudly and unzipping his bag to pull out the envelope and its contents and slid it across to the grey-haired man.

“You should have come to me as soon as this happened.” Clay sat back down in his chair, rubbing his hands over his face with frustration after seeing the contents of the envelope.

“I know, I know… and I’m sorry I didn’t but I was worried about what you’d do if you found out about us and… I fucked up. I know I did. I’m so sorry, Clay, but that’s not all.” Juice reached back into his bag and pulled out the photo you had received in the mail, handing it over to your father whose mouth gaped at the sight of it. “That was sent to (Y/N) in the mail,” Juice stared intensely at the photo in Clay’s grasp, “....Same handwriting on the envelope it arrived in as the threats sent to me. Any idea who this guy is?” “Jesus Christ,” Clay breathed, he looked up at the two men standing before him, focusing on the taller man. “Get Chibs. One of you take (Y/N) back home to pack a bag, and bring her back here. Church in an hour, I need everyone here, have him let everyone know.” He ordered Happy, who had been standing by Juice’s side the whole time. Happy nodded and retreated back towards to entrance to the bar. Clay then turned to Juice, “Go get your laptop. I need to you do a search on a name…” He sighed again, running his hand across the top of his hair, “I know who (Y/N)’s stalker is.”

Obsessive - Part 26

So it seems like they made up. It’d be a shame if something....ruined it. (This will be multi parts so check back for my next installment. As always, if you want to be notified of my updates just let me know and I will message you when I post new chapters) **Disclaimer: I do not suffer from OCD so I cannot begin to imagine what it is like. Any and everything that I am writing is what I’ve learned from people I know and the internet as well as asking advice from friends who know more about it than me. If anything is wrong or inaccurate of someone with OCD, please excuse my ignorance, as I said I am asking questions to help with the descriptions but I’m sure I will get something wrong eventually.

Juice Ortiz x Reader

(GIF isn’t mine) __________________

After taking a few extra moments to catch your breath, you stood and followed Juice through the hallway and your bedroom and into the bathroom. He was leaning over the sink, having just cleaned the blood from his nose, he was now examining the bruises that were forming under his eyes. You smiled at his naked form and stepped up behind him, placing kisses on his back and shoulders, watching his face in the mirror as he smiled and then turned around to face you. His hands ran up and down your sides as he kissed your forehead and you tilted your head up to bite his bottom lip, your hand falling down across his abs to land on his member.

“Again?” he pulled away asking with surprise in his voice. “Mhmm,” you sucked your bottom lip in between your teeth and grinned at him as you pumped his cock in your hand.

He took your hand and removed it from himself, turning so that you were now with your back to the bathroom cabinets as he cupped your cheeks and pressed his lips into yours. He walked you back until you were pinned against the sink before he ran his hands down to your hips and lifted you, placing you up on the edge and stepping between your legs. You wrapped your arms around his neck, your fingers lazily stroking the back of his neck and mohawk as you kissed him and he pressed himself firmly against you, his already hardened length rubbing between your thighs..

He hummed against your lips with a sigh and gently broke the kiss, pulling back and opening his eyes as you reopened yours to gaze back at him. He smirked, kissing the tip of your nose before he stepped back, “Are the condoms still in your night stand?” he asked quickly and you nodded to him, “Mhmmm,” you smiled.

“Don’t move,” he ordered which made the butterflies in your stomach start their frenzy. Juice was such a sweet guy, he was hardly ever ‘in charge’ of anything but you loved it when he bossed you around. You were so tangled up in your thoughts you almost didn’t notice him standing in the doorway again, worry etched into his features as if it’s residence was permanent.

“What’s wrong?” you asked when his presence snapped you out of your thoughts.

“Do you know this guy?” he asked, stepping closer to you, still stark naked, holding something small and square in between his thumb and index finger. You took it from him and looked at it, the polaroid of the man and baby that you had received by mistake in the mail.

“No, why?” you asked nonchalantly, handing him the photo back.

“He looks familiar is all,” Juice shrugged.

“Someone mailed it to me,” you explained, “Blank envelope, no return address, I just figured it was intended for whoever owned that mailbox before me,” you paused, “Anyway I forgot about it actually, just stuck it in that drawer when I got it and haven’t thought about it since. Do you think you know him?”

“I just think I’ve seen him before-- You said it was mailed to you?” Juice’s face suddenly got stern. “Yeah, Chibs brought it to me a few weeks ago when he checked the mail for me, why?” You questioned.

“Do you still have the envelope?” He glanced over your question to ask his own.

“Y-yeah I think so…. Juice why are you questioning me about this?” You began to feel anxious about his interrogation. Nonetheless, you hopped down from the sink to walk into your room and stopped at your closet to pull on a hoodie and some jeans before going to your nightstand, pulling the envelope out of the drawer as well, and holding it out to him.

“Jesus Christ,” he gasped, snatching the envelope from your hand and looking at it closely, “Fuck!” he cursed.

“Juice. What. Is. Going. On!” you followed after him, totally confused as he took off towards your living room.

“Put your shoes on you’re coming with me.” It wasn’t a question, it was a demand.

You folded your arms and narrowed your eyes at him in protest.

“(Y/N)... Come on, Please?... Bring the picture and envelope with you. It’ll all make sense when we get to my house.” He was pulling his jeans and shirt on as he barked orders at you. Finally you sighed, seeing the distress in his expression, and you went back in your room to pack.

Juice didn’t live far from you, so after a quick ride up the street he was parking in front of his home. He helped you off his bike, keeping your hand in his as he led you up the cement walkway up to his front door and unlocking it. You stood just inside the threshold as he walked over to his couch and pulled something from under it, turning back to you with apprehension, “You might want to sit down…” he trailed off and you gulped, walking to sit on his couch as he stood before you.

Juice took a deep breath, unrolling the now torn envelope and pulling out the panties that belonged to you and handing them to you. “Juice why do you have--” “--Just… Wait. Look at everything else okay? Then ask questions if you still have any…”

Confused, you nodded and waited for him to hand you everything else. The photos of you two in bed together, the note telling Juice not to touch you, the photo of the dead man with the message on the back, and the threat inside the envelope itself. Then Juice took the envelope with your address on it and held it out beside the written threats. The handwriting was the same. You gulped, tears forming in your eyes as you put it all together. The person that sent a picture to your P.O. Box was the same one who had been inside your apartment. He had threatened Juice as well, and was now threatening to kill you.

Shocked, you turned to face the biker before you, “Juice, I…. I’m so sorry,” you began to cry and he sat down beside you, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you to his chest.

“It’s not your fault baby,” Juice was stroking your arm as he kissed the top of your head, “but we need to tell your dad. You’re in danger, even more now that...you know…” Juice gave you a half smirk as you pulled away. You knew what he meant; the warning not to touch you had been broken and if the stalker kept his promise then he planned to kill you.

Juice was right, Clay needed to know.

I’m gonna queue an update to Obsessive for Tomorrow!!

Finally, right? lol

Obsessive - Part 25

That kiss came out of nowhere! How will the reader react? (This will be multi parts so check back for my next installment. As always, if you want to be notified of my updates just let me know and I will message you when I post new chapters) **Disclaimer: I do not suffer from OCD so I cannot begin to imagine what it is like. Any and everything that I am writing is what I’ve learned from people I know and the internet as well as asking advice from friends who know more about it than me. If anything is wrong or inaccurate of someone with OCD, please excuse my ignorance, as I said I am asking questions to help with the descriptions but I’m sure I will get something wrong eventually.

Juice Ortiz x Reader

(GIF isn’t mine) __________________

Juice Kissed you with a sincerity that told you everything you needed to know. He didn’t regret what happened between the two of you, it wasn’t a mistake, and he was sorry for hurting you.

Your arms fell to your sides as you stood, shocked at his actions, but you kissed him back anyway. You relaxed in his grip and his arms moved down to loop around your waist and pull you closer to him as he slipped his tongue inside your mouth and you allowed it, moving your hands to hold onto his shoulders for support as a million thoughts began to race through your mind.

Suddenly, Juice pulled away from the kiss, peering into your confused eyes.

“I lied to you, (Y/N), and I’m sorry. Some other shit was going on and I felt like I needed to distance myself from you. My hand was kind of forced too but it doesn’t matter because I fell in love with you (Y/N) and I can’t lie to myself anymore I--”

His rambling was interrupted as your lips crashed against his, tears of relief falling from your eyes as your lips moved together and he held you tightly against him. He ran his hands up your back, squeezing you tightly and you fisted his kutte, clinging to each other.  He lifted you, taking you to the floor just inside the threshold, right next to the spot where just three weeks prior you had been unconsciously bleeding. 

Almost as if his mind was in the same place as yours he broke away from your kiss again, leaning up to run his fingers across the scar where your stitches had been on your head. You reached your hand up to take his arm and pressed your lips against his wrist.

“What about my dad and Jax?” you asked, already knowing the answer.

“I’m not worried about that,” he answered confidently and you smiled in response, “I want you. Do you want me?” He was grinding his hips against your center as your legs were splayed to the sides and you could feel his hardness pressing against you.

“Yes. Juice. I want you too,” you breathed as his lips ghosted across yours, waiting for your consent to continue.

“Take these off,” he whispered, tugging with one hand at the waist of your pants. He leaned back on his knees and unbuckled his belt, kicking his Dickies off while you wiggled out of your clothes. He threw his shirt off over the top of his head and began kissing up your stomach following the cotton of your shirt as you pulled the material off.

He hesitated at your breasts, his arms boxing you in as you spread your legs and he moved between them once again. He was kissing and biting at the fabric of your bra as you ran your hands along his mohawk and moaned his name. He moved his way up to your collarbone and lowered himself down onto you, moving his hand down to rub across your panties.

“Juice,” you panted as he licked and sucked his way up to your neck, grinding his hips into yours while he did, “Fuck me,” you commanded, making him chuckle against your skin before pulling away and looking at you.

“Yes ma’am,” he smiled, turning to dig in his jeans and pull a condom from his wallet, pulling his boxers down as you pulled your panties off and he rolled the condom on, palming his cock and teasing your slit with it. 

You were already wet and ready for him, so he pushed into you, making you moan while your body struggled to accommodate him.

“Shit, (Y/N),” Juice cursed through gritted teeth, “I missed this so much baby.”

You reached your hands up to hold either side of his face as you pulled him down to kiss you, your tongue snaking into his mouth as he began to stroke inside you, slowly at first but quickly picking up speed as your hands ventured to his back, raking your nails across his skin. 

You loved how he opened you up, and he loved how you stretched around him. With your legs around his waist he set a more ferocious pace, pounding into you, all those moments over the last two weeks that were wasted when he could have had you. 

All those wasted moments over the last five years when he could have made a move and all of this would have happened much sooner. 

He wasn’t letting his time with you go to waste anymore. 

Fuck the person who threatened him, he was going to make you his tonight.

Reaching down to grasp your knees, he pulled your legs up to rest on his shoulders, giving him a new angle and making you feel more full that you ever had, his dick was reaching places you had no idea existed as he pinned you to the floor below him. 

He bore down on you, wrapping his fingers behind your head to tug at your hair, pulling your head back to expose your neck which he quickly devoured, sucking a bruise into your pulse as he continued thrusting into you. His moans mixed with yours as he finally pulled out of you. 

As he pressed his lips into yours he stood and lifted you to stand with him, kicking his boxers off completely and leading you over to the couch where he sat; you knew exactly what he wanted. You straddled him, staring deep into his dark brown eyes as you gripped his shaft and lowered yourself down onto him. 

An audible gasp left both of your throats as you allowed yourself time to adjust again before Juice reached behind you and unclasped your bra, allowing your breasts to be free. He pulled you forward to him, taking your right nipple in his mouth and nibbling it before sucking it gently as you began to rock slowly in his lap, his dick teasing you as your movements were small. His hands went to your hips as he began to guide your movements, pulling his mouth away from your skin to lean back against the couch and watch you move on top of him.

“Fuck, baby,” he groaned as you began to move more quickly on top of him, a tightening inside you notifying you of your approaching orgasm. It wouldn’t be long before your release rocked through your body, you wanted him as close as possible before you let go. You bit your lip, rocking back and forth in his lap as he panted and both of your chests heaved.

Gripping the couch back on either side of his neck, you used it as leverage to begin bouncing on his dick and his eyes shot open. “Mmm, (Y/N), you’re gonna make me--” he dug his fingers into your hips as he met your thrusts, pounding your orgasm out of you as you yelped, continuing to fuck yourself as your release coursed through your body, weakening your legs until finally he let out the breath he had sucked in and found his release as well. All of the muscles in his arms, chest and stomach were tensing as you felt his dick throbbing inside of you, his seed being released within the condom he had been so generous as to remember. 

He let your hips go, his neck collapsing back as he breathed heavily.

“God, that was amazing. I love you so much,” he sighed, a sweet smile stretched across his face. You leaned down and planted a kiss on his check, lifting yourself off of his now softening erection as you did, “I love you too, Juan Carlos,” you grinned as he opened his eyes and you moved to sit beside him. He sat with his arm around you for a few moments before he made a move to stand up.

“Gonna go shower,” he whispered as he began to walk away. 

You couldn’t help but stare at his chiseled back and ass and smile for the first time in weeks as he walked away from you.

Obsessive - Part 24

Will Juice have the courage to tell all? What will he say to Clay and Jax? (This will be multi parts so check back for my next installment. As always, if you want to be notified of my updates just let me know and I will message you when I post new chapters) **Disclaimer: I do not suffer from OCD so I cannot begin to imagine what it is like. Any and everything that I am writing is what I’ve learned from people I know and the internet as well as asking advice from friends who know more about it than me. If anything is wrong or inaccurate of someone with OCD, please excuse my ignorance, as I said I am asking questions to help with the descriptions but I’m sure I will get something wrong eventually.

Juice Ortiz x Reader

(GIF isn’t mine) __________________

Juice stood, following after his President and VP, catching up to them as they passed the bar.. “I don’t think we should leave (Y/N) alone,” he spoke plainly, swallowing hard and trying not to seem guilty.

“She won’t be alone, Juice. I’m gonna leave one of the prospects outside for a while--”

“--No I mean…” Juice cut Clay off as they stepped outside into the parking lot but then hesitated when Clay and Jax stopped and looked at him, “... Look I just think there’s something more going on. Like maybe whoever this person is...they’re only leaving her alone because we are there,” he chose his words carefully, trying to keep the real reason under wraps. “Everything’s fine, Juice,” Clay spoke, “(Y/N) said nothing weird has happened for a while and she feels safe enough to be alone again.”

“I just don’t believe it's okay, Clay. I need to be there,” Juice urged. Clay and Jax looked at each other and then back to Juice, “There’s gotta be a reason you feel that way…” Clay reasoned and Juice shook his head in protest, “N-no its nothing I just--” “--Juice,” Jax interrupted, “I’ve known you for 5 years bro.” Juice could feel his heart rate accelerate.

“What are you not telling us?” Clay interrogated him, his blue stare penetrating. “Nothing,” Juice resisted, his apprehension was apparent, not only to Jax and Clay, but also to everyone standing around nearby watching the scene unfold. “Look, man, (Y/N) is tough. She can take care of herself and like Clay said the prospects will still be outside--” “--Yeah I know but that’s not enough Jax,” Juice interjected, sighing with frustration as he spoke. “What is your problem, bro?” Jax was genuinely concerned now, if not for Juice then for his sister; he could tell something was wrong. 

Chibs and Tig were nearby and had begun walking up to see what was going on as Juice began to speak again. 

“I’m just telling you if anything happens to her I’ll feel like it's my fault. I’ll feel like I should have been there to protect her. I need to be there to...to…” he trailed off, grimacing and rubbing his hand across his mohawk and down to the back of his neck as he looked down and kicked the concrete. “What’s going on Juicey?” Clay questioned, “Why would she need you there?” His eyebrows furrowing as he stared at the younger man. Juice didn’t speak in response, his mouth opening and closing like a fish as he tried to find the words he needed.

“Me and (Y/N)...” he trailed off, unable to finish his sentence.

Jax exchanged looks with Clay again and suddenly his concern was wiped clean and replaced with anger as he whipped his head back in Juice’s direction.

“Say it.” Jax’s snarl was fearsome. Juice swallowed, “It’s not what you think Jax, I--” “--You son of a bitch!” Jax lunged at Juice, grabbing him by the collar of his kutte and pulling him up to his face. Chibs and Tig rushed in to separate them, prying Jax’s fingers off of Juice. Clay walked a couple steps away, rubbing the back of his head, letting Juice’s words set in. “Aye aye aye! Jackie! Back off brother!” Chibs pushed Jax back as Tig stood between them and Happy and Bobby jogged up to figure out what happened.   “What the hell is going on?” Bobby asked glancing between an alarmed Juice and an enraged Jax.

Gemma, hearing screams from the parking lot, peeked out of her office door. Seeing the commotion, she ran out into the lot to calm her son and husband, reaching the huddle of men just in time to hear Jax’s answer to Bobby’s question.

“This piece of shit is the reason (Y/N) has been moping around the clubhouse for the last two weeks!” Jax spat, taking a few steps back and shaking his head, “I’m gonna kick your ass,” Jax’s calm anger was much more frightening. “Jesus Christ!” Bobby hissed, glaring at Juice.

Clay and Tig turned back to Juice who was now breathing heavily, a panic in his eyes as he stared back at the President and Sergeant at Arms. “What did you do.”

It wasn’t a question, it was a demand. Juice gulped and took a deep breath, catching Happy’s knowing glare, before shaking his head as he looked back at Clay. It didn’t matter what he said, he deserved what was going to come next.

“Clay,” Juice began, his voice wavering with anxiety, “I’m sorry. I...I fucked up...” he trailed off again as Clay came at him with a raised fist.  Tig, Clay’s only obstacle, didn’t stand in his way as he threw a punch that sent Juice to the ground with a thud.

“Clay!” Gemma shouted, stepping between her Old man and the younger biker. “Get the FUCK off my lot!” Clay pointed over Gemma’s shoulder, bellowing at the younger man who was still laying on the concrete.

Juice stood feebly as blood poured from his nose. Clay had busted it pretty good. “I’m sorry, Clay,” he begged, tears in his eyes. He stood unmoving as Clay walked away with Gemma and Tig, while Happy guided Jax to follow.

Chibs, Bobby and Juice were now the only men in the lot, save for a few crow eaters under the pavilion up by the clubhouse who were now whispering amongst themselves. Juice turned to his brother, “Chibs, I--” “--Ye need ta go,” Chibs urged him as Bobby shook his head in disgust, “Ye need ta get out o’ here for now.”

Chibs looked Juice up and down for a moment before shaking his head and turning to walk away, Bobby in tow. Juice was left standing alone in the parking lot, bloody-faced, crying. He needed something. He needed you.

You heard voices outside, the Prospect and another voice, Juice’s voice.

“Great,” you groaned to yourself, thinking your father must’ve decided to keep a patch on you for a little while longer. You turned the TV up and tried to drown out the noises coming from the front door when you heard the key in the lock and rolled your eyes, not even looking up as he walked in and shut the door behind him.

“(Y/N),” he spoke softly, his voice hitching and a tone of anguish caused you to look up at him. Dried blood was smeared on his nose, his eyes were already turning purple with bruises and he was shaking. You let out an audible gasp, refraining from your urge to get a towel to clean his face off as you stood and walked over to him, forgetting that you hated him altogether for a moment. 

As you were opening your mouth to speak he answered the question before you could ask it.  “Jax found out… and Clay,” he motioned to his nose, “then this happened,” he finished. 

You sighed, remembering that you were supposed to be mad at him you corrected your face back to stone cold and icy and pursed your lips. 

“Then why are you here.” you demanded, crossing your arms and glaring at him.

“For this,” he replied reaching out and holding the sides of your face as he pressed his lips against yours.

So here’s the thing....

I can post the next part of Obsessive.... BUT it ends on a cliffhanger and it’ll be like probably a week maybe two before I’ll be able to update again....

So the question is... Do you want me to update soon and risk the possibility of sitting on another cliffhanger for a while?

Or 

Wait until I have two parts finished so you won’t have to wait so long on the cliff?

***asks or reblogs are all i’m counting as votes here - no comments please.

Obsessive - Part 23

How long will The Reader be under SAMCROs watchful eye? (This will be multi parts so check back for my next installment. As always, if you want to be notified of my updates just let me know and I will message you when I post new chapters) **Disclaimer: I do not suffer from OCD so I cannot begin to imagine what it is like. Any and everything that I am writing is what I’ve learned from people I know and the internet as well as asking advice from friends who know more about it than me. If anything is wrong or inaccurate of someone with OCD, please excuse my ignorance, as I said I am asking questions to help with the descriptions but I’m sure I will get something wrong eventually.

Juice Ortiz x Reader

(GIF isn’t mine) __________________

The next couple of weeks dragged on. You were not only miserable, having Juice or Happy in your living room every night, but Juice was acting as if he couldn’t see the hurt all over your face every time you were forced to speak to him. Happy knew exactly what was wrong and had no idea what to do about it. 

You thought, maliciously, that you would hurt him as bad as he hurt you, wanting to tell your dad that he had treated you like a crow eater and made you into a one night stand. Unfortunately your conscience wouldn’t let you do that to him. After all, you still had feelings for him and Clay would murder him, as would Jax, Bobby, Tig and probably the rest of the guys as well. Honestly you were surprised that Happy hadn’t caused a bigger problem with Juice than he had. You noticed they didn’t speak to each other, Juice wouldn’t look him in the eye either, and Happy made comments from time to time that made you feel like he was backing you on the whole ordeal.

You had begun obsessively cleaning again. Your OCD was out of control lately, actually, in overdrive. Nothing was ever right and you cringed any time someone walked in your apartment, disturbing your sense of peace. You realized how calm Juice had made you feel, how his presence had been a positive impact on your rituals, making them less burdensome when he was around. The fact that he had fucked you over made you even more upset upon realizing, though, because now you were obsessive like never before.

Aside from your elevated stress levels, things had started to get back to normal. In fact, none of your things had been touched or moved since the night Juice decided to blow you off. A part of you wondered, in some recess of your brain, if Juice had been moving things just to worry you and stay close to you, and maybe the break in was an isolated incident, but then you remembered the shadow that first night you slept with Juice and you knew someone was definitely still poking around. Now, though, it seemed all of the stalking and whatnot was over with and it was safe to say you were relieved that you would soon be rid of Juan Carlos Ortiz. You had spoken with your dad the day after Juice called you a mistake and told him you felt safe again. It was a lie but you felt it necessary to get away from him after what he did to you, and the longer you had to look at his face the more you wanted to toss him under the bus. Finally, Clay relented, telling you that if nothing strange happened for two weeks he would take everyone except a prospect outside off of you. That was good enough for you.

As the second week since your fall out with Juice and talk with your dad came around, you were eager to hear from Clay as to whether or not he would keep his promise and get Juice away from you. Things were tense in your apartment and it was obvious Happy was not happy about being stuck between the two of you quarreling. Juice had opted to stay outside for the night and you and Happy were inside on the couch watching the History channel when you heard Juice’s cell phone ring from outside. After a moment Juice unlocked the door with his key and opened it, stepping in and completely avoiding your gaze to speak to Happy.

“That was Clay. He wants us at the clubhouse, now. Church. Both of us. He said leave the prospects,” he filled the man beside you in on his conversation. Happy furrowed his eyebrows and looked at you, “You gonna be alright?” he asked and you nodded in return so he shrugged and stood to follow Juice out. Juice was afraid this would happen. He suspected one of the topics in church was going to be pulling him and Hap off of your detail and he was praying that wasn’t the case. He knew you couldn’t be left alone with that freak able to come and harass you whenever he wanted. Over the last two weeks, Juice had searched for anything that would give him a clue as to who had threatened him, of course turning up short. Whoever the threat was, he knew how to keep a low profile.

He and Happy didn’t speak on the walk to their bikes at all. Happy had made it abundantly clear that what he had done to you was not okay with him and deep down Juice hated himself too. He knew you were trying to act tough, mask the hurt you felt under a hateful glare and generally acting as if he didn’t exist. It was killing him, knowing that he had feelings for you and couldn’t show them. When you turned away from him two weeks ago and he knew you were crying, he wanted nothing more than to be the one to wipe your tears away. It was starting to feel like that’d never happen.

The gavel slammed down and it was like nails on a chalkboard to Juice’s ears. He really didn’t want to be in the chapel at the moment, his brain drowning out Clay and Jax’s voices as he thought about the envelope in his home. The sound of his name snapped him back to reality.

“Juice. You listening?” It was Chibs who sat across from him that was calling his name while everyone else at the table stared. “Yeah, I’m here,” he sighed, looking up to the head of the table where Clay was sat.  “You and Happy are going back to your regular schedule. (Y/N) said nothing strange has been going on for a while so it looks like the threat is past,” Clay told him and he nodded slowly in response and the gavel slammed down, releasing the men from their obligations for the day. This was it, Juice thought. He had to talk to Clay, at least tell him that you were still in danger. He just had to figure out how to do that without incriminating himself.

He was still sat in his seat, staring down into his lap when the room cleared, save for Jax and Clay who had their eyes on their Puerto Rican brother. “What’s going on, Juice?” Jax asked, turning his body towards the younger man.

Juice kept his eyes down for a moment before taking a deep breath and forcing it out, looking up at his President and VP. He lost his nerve. He couldn’t do it, not right now.

“Nothing,” he forced a weak smile and the two officers narrowed their eyes at him but stood anyway, heading out of the chapel and through the bar. Its not nothing, he thought as he sat alone, staring at the reaper carved into the tabletop, “Its NOT nothing,” he whispered aloud to himself, tapping the wooden surface with this knuckles as the contemplated to himself. Juice knew the only way to protect you was to be with you, and that order had to go through Clay. If he allowed you to spend a night unprotected, anything that happened to you would be his fault. He couldn’t let it happen. He couldn’t allow you to get hurt because he was too afraid to oppose Clay and Jax. 

Obsessive - Part 22

How will Juice handle the threat made against him and the reader? (This will be multi parts so check back for my next installment. As always, if you want to be notified of my updates just let me know and I will message you when I post new chapters) **Disclaimer: I do not suffer from OCD so I cannot begin to imagine what it is like. Any and everything that I am writing is what I’ve learned from people I know and the internet as well as asking advice from friends who know more about it than me. If anything is wrong or inaccurate of someone with OCD, please excuse my ignorance, as I said I am asking questions to help with the descriptions but I’m sure I will get something wrong eventually.

Juice Ortiz x Reader

(GIF isn’t mine) __________________

Happy showed back up at the clubhouse just before dark to pick you up, smiling when he realized you had gotten your keys back from Juice so you could drive your car. He thought it was weird, how Juice had acted today, asking him to watch you while he took care of some personal shit, but it was even weirder when he walked up to your apartment with you, only to find out from the prospect posted at the door that Juice was not home. 

As he had promised to stay close by, Happy walked inside with you, his eyebrows furrowing when you immediately bee-lined to your photos, fidgeting with them until they were just right and then retreating to the camera and lifting it to face the front door again.

“Did you do that?” Happy asked, still standing by the front door.

“No,” you sighed, “I don’t think Juice did either.” Happy just nodded, his eyes stoic as he stared back at you.

“Want spaghetti? I’m not really in the mood to clean up a huge mess tonight,” you asked and Happy gave you a small chuckle. “Haven’t you learned? We’ll eat anything.”

You managed to spare a small laugh as he plopped down at the kitchen table and you pulled out a large pot to boil water with, your mind overcome with thoughts of Juice.  

After you, Happy, and the prospects finished eating, a quiet affair as Juice was really the only one that felt it necessary to have conversation over dinner, Happy helped you clear the table, dismissing the prospects back to their posts. You glanced at the clock, noticing it was almost 9 now and Juice still hadn’t made it back you were worried and Happy could tell. “I’ll call him,” Happy spoke, walking to the door while he dialed his phone and stepped outside.

You tried to shake his behavior earlier out of your head but you couldn’t help but think he had regrets over the intimacy you shared as you went to take a shower, leaving Happy to his conversation outside.

When you stepped out of the shower you heard two voices inside and you were relieved to know that Juice had finally made it back. You dressed quickly and walked into the living room where Happy and Juice were standing, they stopped talking when they saw you and you smiled at them, “What’s wrong?” you asked and they just looked at each other before looking back at you and Juice looked down at his boots. “I’m gonna stay with you for a while so Juice can take care of some stuff,” Happy rasped and you tried desperately to cover your disappointment at his revelation.

“Um… Okay,” you answered and nodded at the two men before looking at Juice, “If you haven’t eaten, there are leftovers in the fridge.” You gave him a sad smile and he looked down again to avoid your eye contact so you looked back at Happy, “I’ll get you a fresh blanket and pillow,” you told him and he nodded. As you walked away you heard strained whispers between the two men who were obviously arguing over something, but you didn’t bother to try and listen in. All you wanted to do was go to bed and hope that tomorrow things between you and Juice were back to how they were this morning.

At some point during the night you heard voices and movement throughout your apartment and, already frustrated about the fact that you were now sleeping alone, you decided to get up and showcase your displeasure at being roused. You stepped into the living room just in time to see Happy leaving and you turned to the couch to see Juice sitting there. He was obviously upset that you had awakened as he rubbed his hands over his face before looking back at you. “Everything okay?” he asked, feigning annoyance but you could tell something else was going on. “Where’s Happy going?” “Club business,” Juice replied, leaning back on the couch and looking away from you to the TV which was on with no sound. “Is he going to be back tonight?” you asked, folding your arms as you stood only 8 feet away from him, but felt as though you were miles away. “Doubt it,” was Juice’s short reply.

That was it. You were done with whatever game he was playing. You needed answers.

“Juice….” you trailed off but he interrupted you, “--Just go back to sleep, (Y/N).” You pursed your lips and stared back at him, “Fine. Come with me,” you ordered and he huffed loudly and sat up. “I can’t do that.” “Why?” You uncrossed your arms and they fell to your sides.....

Juice’s phone rang at midnight and Chibs was on the other end. “Is Hap with ye, Juice?”

“Yeah he’s here. Why?”

“He’s no’ answerin’ his phone. We need ‘im here at the clubhouse. Now,” Chibs urged.

“He’s probably got it silenced,” Juice reasoned, “I’ll send him to you.” “Thanks Juicey boy,” Chibs finished and hung up the phone. Juice stood from his spot in front of your door, pulling out his keys and unlocking the door, an attempt to make as little noise as possible. He told Happy that Chibs needed him at the clubhouse, asking him to send a prospect up on his way out and he nodded before leaving. As soon as Juice had plopped down on the couch, there you were, standing in the living room with him, looking at him with that cute little pout. He hated seeing you upset but he had a feeling it was only about to get worse as you questioned him. Finally you asked him to come to bed with you, a bold move for you, he thought, as you were normally a bit more shy. He wanted to say yes so bad, to take you to bed and lay with his arms wrapped around you. He wanted to keep you safe and secure, but he knew he couldn’t until he knew whether or not the threat that had been made against him was real. When you asked him why he couldn’t come with you, he knew he only had one chance of separating himself from you. God he didn’t want to hurt your feelings but it was his only option at this point to push you away. He just hoped you could forgive him when all of this was over…

“Because, (Y/N). I don’t want to,” he spoke matter-of-factly.

“Did I….” you trailed off, trying to understand what was happening, your voice just a whisper, “...Did I do something wrong?” “No,” he responded bluntly, “I did.”

You stared back at him and waited for him to elaborate and he sighed, clearly aggravated with you as you felt a lump forming in your throat, “I should never have slept with you. It was a mistake.” “Juice, I--”

“--No, (Y/N), stop. You were mistake,” he could feel his voice falter as he tried to spit the lie from his mouth, ”It shouldn’t have happened and now it's over. Go back to bed. Please,” he finished. The exasperation you heard in his voice was so strong that you couldn’t even form a rebuttal anymore. As tears began to fill your eyes and your bottom lip subconsciously poked out, you nodded sadly before turning abruptly and rushing back to your room. You did not want Juice Ortiz to see you crying over him.

I am updating “Obsessive” tomorrow!!

Obsessive - Part 21

What’s in the envelope? (This will be multi parts so check back for my next installment. As always, if you want to be notified of my updates just let me know and I will message you when I post new chapters) **Disclaimer: I do not suffer from OCD so I cannot begin to imagine what it is like. Any and everything that I am writing is what I’ve learned from people I know and the internet as well as asking advice from friends who know more about it than me. If anything is wrong or inaccurate of someone with OCD, please excuse my ignorance, as I said I am asking questions to help with the descriptions but I’m sure I will get something wrong eventually.

Juice Ortiz x Reader

(GIF belongs to @lolsthecat)

____________________________

Juice slid everything back in the envelope, folding it up and shoving it inside the pocket in his kutte before drawing his Glock 17 and holding it out in front of him, “Who’s in here?” he yelled, hearing nothing in return. He crept to the kitchen, passing by your misplaced picture frames and peering at your once-again down-turned camera, knowing someone had been inside since he left. He looked around before advancing down the hall, checking it before opening the hall closet and peeking inside, nothing but towels on the shelf and coats hanging below it. He walked down to your bedroom, checking in the closet, behind the doors, and in the bathroom, nothing was even out of place aside from the photo frames and the camera..

He was out of his depth. He needed to figure some shit out. He needed to think, alone, and without the chance of someone breaking up his party for one. He grabbed his bag, gathered up his stuff, and headed out to your car pulling out his phone and dialing Happy, asking him to bring you home before hanging up and dialing you.

You were still seated at the bar, but you were done working for the day when your phone rang and you saw it was Juice who was calling. You grinned as you picked up the phone, “Hey Juice,” you beamed, ignoring Bobby’s side-eye as you spoke.

“Hey listen (Y/N), I got some shit that came up. Happy’s gonna bring you home after work alright?”

“Sure… Is everything okay?” you asked, you sensed something in his voice, stress, maybe anxiety.

“Y-yeah. I’m good. I’m pulling up now, can you come get your keys?” he asked, not waiting for your reply as he hung up and turned on the blinker, preparing to turn into the lot.

You hung up the phone, setting it down on the bar and looking at it like it had just talked to you itself. Bobby, of course, noticed your confusion and spoke up, “Trouble in paradise, kid?” he chuckled. “Oh bite me Robert,” you scoffed with a grin, standing up from your bar stool and walking out into the parking lot.

“Here’s your car keys, I’m gonna take my bike, so you can drive home,” he handed you your keys, wrapping his fingers around your hand to get your attention and looking into your eyes, “It’s important that you don’t leave alone,” he emphasized every word in that sentence and you stared at him questioningly but he didn’t give you any answers. It didn’t go unnoticed that he was still holding your hand. “Well I’m done for the day. I can go with y--” “--No,” Juice cut you off, almost a little too eagerly, “...Just….. Make sure Happy is with you if you leave, okay? No questions,” he was blunt and to the point, but you wanted to know more, so you pushed. “Juice what is going on?” you asked but he just shook his head, “Nothing, (Y/N). I’m good. Everything’s fine,” he urged before he turned abruptly and walked away to his bike, pulling his arm out of your grip.

You sighed heavily, hands on your hips as he mounted his bike and sped away. You felt an arm wrap around your shoulders and you looked to your side to see who the arm was attached to, peering at Tig as he watched Juice pull out of sight.

“You good, doll?” he asked, still looking ahead.

You chuckled a bit, wrapping your arm around his waist, and squeezing him to your side, “I’m great Tiggy. Care to buy a lady a drink?” you looked up at him and he tore his eyes away from the front gate to gaze down at you. “You kiddin’? Girl as pretty as you wants to drink with this ugly mug?” he smiled down at you as he began to walk with you back towards the clubhouse, “Absolutely,” he finished, steering you back inside.

Juice pulled up at his house, he hadn’t been home in a few days, since your accident, and he was eager to finally feel relaxed. He could never shake the feeling that he was being watched when he was at your apartment, but as soon as he stepped foot in his own home he felt at ease. That is, until he remembered the envelope in his kutte. He took a deep breath, slinging his bag off of his shoulder and tossing it down on the floor beside his couch and walking into his restroom where he produced a set of latex gloves. He had already touched the stuff in the envelope but he didn’t want his DNA all over it in case it became crime scene information. He pulled the gloves on as he sat back down on the couch, sliding the envelope out of his pocket and opening it. Pouring the contents out onto the coffee table in front of him, he sorted through it all so that he could get a good look at each thing, study it, see if he could find any clues. He picked up the only thing he really saw  earlier and took another look at it. It was three pictures printed on regular white printer paper taken from your hallway just outside the bedroom looking in. You and Juice were in each of the three photos, naked, in the middle of having sex with each other - the photos had been taken from inside your apartment last night. He slid the paper back into the envelope and looked down at the table.

He didn’t even need to open the next thing on the table to know what it was, someone obviously wanted the two of them to stop seeing each other and he knew the piece of paper on the table would be a message to leave you alone..

He picked it up anyway, unfolding it to read the words written inside in red pen. ‘If you touch her again I will send big brother the photos from last night and let him handle you. It’ll save me some time.’ Juice shook his head frustratedly and moved on. Next was a polaroid picture, and although age had caused it to yellow and fade, he could clearly tell it was a dead body. A man, maybe around his thirties, laying on some blood-soaked concrete, with brain matter surrounding him. He seemed to have been shot in the head, but the creepiest thing about the photo was that it was taken from an angle that made it appear like he was looking at the camera. Juice flipped the photo over on the back and there was writing, ‘Dont Fuck With Me’ was written on the back. Juice swallowed, wondering who would be sick enough to send this conglomerate of objects to someone he didn’t even know. He set the photo down, moving on to view what was left. 

He picked up a piece of black cloth, quickly realizing it was a pair of ladies underwear before immediately identifying them as the ones you were wearing last night, the ones he had pulled off of you himself. Juice growled at the sight. Not only did this sick fuck watch him having sex with you, but he stole your panties as blackmail to go along with his threat to send photos of him defiling you to your own brother - proof that this guy could get as close to you as he wanted without getting caught and there was nothing Juice could do about it. “Jesus Christ,” he sighed opening the envelope to slide everything else back in when he noticed there were markings inside. Someone had written something on the inside of the packaging. Juice hauled the items back out of the envelope again and tore it open quickly unfolding the paper to read what was written inside.

I WILL CUT HER HEAD OFF  WHILE YOU WATCH AND MAIL IT TO HER DADDY TOUCH WHAT’S MINE AGAIN AND YOU WILL BE SORRY

Thoroughly shaken, Juice grabbed everything and shoved in under his couch. He couldn’t tell Clay, but he couldn’t risk letting you get hurt. He was gonna have to play by this asshole’s rules until he could figure something else out, hopefully without hurting you in the process.

Obsessive - Part 20

The Reader talks to Happy and Juice does some investigative work. (This will be multi parts so check back for my next installment. As always, if you want to be notified of my updates just let me know and I will message you when I post new chapters) **Disclaimer: I do not suffer from OCD so I cannot begin to imagine what it is like. Any and everything that I am writing is what I’ve learned from people I know and the internet as well as asking advice from friends who know more about it than me. If anything is wrong or inaccurate of someone with OCD, please excuse my ignorance, as I said I am asking questions to help with the descriptions but I’m sure I will get something wrong eventually.

Juice Ortiz x Reader

(GIF isn’t mine)

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Happy was sitting right outside the door when you walked out, arms folded, just staring at you with his toothpick in his mouth like always. You pulled the door closed behind you and turned to face him. “Ready?” you asked, your eyebrows raised, waiting for a response and hoping that he would be the one to bring up what he saw, but all he did was nod and stand up, holding his arm out to his side as a signal for you to lead the way so you stepped past him to walk towards his bike. “Did you already send the prospects home?” you asked, looking over your shoulder at him walking behind you. “Mhmm,” he nodded, taking the toothpick from his mouth and tossing it aside, but he was staring you down and you knew what he was thinking about. Sighing, you turned around and marched to his bike, stopping as you got there and looking down at your feet. “Hap…” you said and he turned to you, waiting for you to speak as he handed you his helmet, “Juice and I--”

“--Don’t,” Happy cut you off, “I ain’t gonna tell your dad,” his voice was gruff as he swung his leg over his bike, but he had the faintest smile on his face. So faint, in fact, that if you hadn’t known him your whole life you’d have missed it. “Thank you Happy,” you grinned back at him reaching out to hold his shoulder for support to climb on the bike behind him but he grabbed your hand, stopping you and looking into your eyes, “...But you should tell him. Secrets get people killed.”

His voice sent shivers down your spine and you swallowed hard and nodded at him. He let your hand go and you climbed on behind him, wrapping your arms around him as he took off towards TM.

The day dragged on, you could barely focus on anything other than the nerves you felt. You knew Clay or Jax would find out eventually if you didn’t tell them yourself. Whether someone slipped up and mentioned something, or they just plain sensed it. You knew you’d rather them hear it from you than from someone else, but you had to make sure Juice was on board before you did anything about it. 

Bobby’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts, “Everything okay, (Y/N)? Your mind is somewhere else,” he spoke, setting his pen down and looking at you. “I-I’m fine, Bobby. Just nervous still about that intruder you know?” you lied, burying yourself back in your work.

“We’re gonna find that guy, darlin’. You just gotta...wait it out,” he said, placing his hand on your shoulder and giving it a squeeze, “It’ll all work out... So how do you like spending time with Juice?” he asked knowingly, a grin stretching across his face. You balked at his question, your mouth hanging open and you stammered your response, “I don’t, uh, don’t… don’t know what you’re…Wait. What?” you stammered and he laughed, “Get back to work, kid.”

Juice slept for a few more hours, waking up when his alarm sounded at 10 and heading to the kitchen to make himself breakfast. Always health conscious, he made toast and eggs, grabbing an apple from the bowl of fruit on the counter and carrying his breakfast to the couch to eat and watch TV, hoping you wouldn’t notice he had eaten in the living room.

As he stuffed the last bit of toast in his mouth, Juice stood from your couch and threw his trash away, washing the dishes he had dirtied and grabbing clothes to put on for the day. He needed to go up to the clubhouse and see if he could look at those cameras now that nobody would be able to tamper with his hack. He grabbed your car keys from the counter and left, locking the door behind him and double checking to make sure he had actually locked it before heading out.

Your head whipped towards the door when it was pushed open, somehow you knew it was Juice even though you weren’t expecting to see him at TM at all today. You tried to hide it, but you still perked up when you saw him and he smiled when his gaze met yours, walking up to you and Bobby and leaning against the bar to talk to the two of you.

“G’morning,” he spoke and Bobby looked up, “Hey Juicey, aren’t you supposed to be sleeping?” “Yeah…” he gave a small chuckle, “but I wanted to look at those apartment cameras before I did.” He pushed himself away from the bar, his hands just grazing against your back as he walked by, making it hard for you to breathe.

You swallowed hard, looking up to see Bobby staring you down and you busied yourself with your work again quickly as he scoffed amusedly and began working again himself.

Juice pulled up the recorded video from your apartment cameras and scoured them, freezing on every face that walked anywhere near your door over the last week. He found the man leaving your apartment the day you were attacked and accessed every camera to try and get a good look at the guy. Whoever the intruder was, he had a really good knowledge of the cameras on the property, as he was able to hide his face from every single one before he walked off property and continued down the street on foot. Juice cursed as he pored over the videos over and over again, only seeing residents coming and going before and after that. He saw a few people who looked familiar that he couldn’t place, but he’d probably seen them at the grocery store or the fair or something, Charming was a small town, after all. He looked up at the clock after his seventh time going through the feeds looking for anything out of place, but hitting another dead end. He needed to get back to your place, give it another good search and pretend to sleep before you were done for the day. Frustrated, he resigned himself to leave as he stood and gathered his things, heading out of the clubhouse and giving a nod in your direction as he passed by.

He got to your apartment in no time. It was weird, driving a car instead of his bike, but he was starting to get used to it. Happy had refused to drive you in a car, saying if anything you would have to ride bitch on his bike. Juice chuckled as he remembered the look you had given him over dinner when he technically called you a bitch as he approached your door, sticking the key in and opening it.

Juice froze when he noticed an envelope sitting on the floor just inside the front door. It had to have been slid under the door after he left, he thought. He picked the envelope up, shutting the front door behind him and looking it over. It was one of the legal sized yellow envelopes, nothing written on the front or back, and sealed with clear tape. He was a little taken aback, but he wasn’t afraid, what could possibly hurt him in an envelope? He opened it hesitantly anyway for reasons he himself didn’t even know. As the tape was ripped off, bringing shreds of the envelope with it, his heartbeat began to quicken, and he hesitated for a second. Why was he nervous? What if this wasn’t for him? He shouldn’t open your mail…. But what if it was meant for him?

You’d have to forgive him if it was personal. He would apologize later if it was meant for you, he thought as he flipped open the yellow flap that sealed the paper enclosure. He reached his hand inside the package and dug the contents of the envelope out. The keys in his hand fell as his arm went limp, clattering against the hardwood floor below him as he peered, horrified, at the items inside.