scalp tattoos

Hot Mess

*Laundry Mat AU inspired by this fabulous headcanon by @ronanlynchamiright. Thank you so much!!! The world needs Ronan in brightly colored briefs.

Adam is a hot mess by the time he’s biked to the laundry mat. His shirt doesn’t have a single inch of dry fabric, all of it soaked through by sweat. He locks his bike out front and plucks at his shirt self-consciously. His laundry—all of his clothes except the ones he’s currently wearing—is shoved in a large canvas bag he bought at the thrift store. His cleaner clothes are at the top of the bag and his grimy shop clothes are shoved to the bottom. Adam’s got laundry day down to a science, knowing exactly how much he can stuff into a single load, how much detergent will be required, how many quarters it will take to wash and dry two loads.

The laundry mat is almost empty, something else that Adam has planned out; Wednesday nights are the best time to do laundry because half the town is at church and the other half is too busy not being in church to swing by the laundry mat. As Adam shoves the door open he notices the only other person inside is a guy who looks to be about his age but that’s all they have in common.

The guy is sitting on top of one of the washers, his head tipped back against the wall, expensive headphones sealed over his ears. He’s totally still, except for his feet, which are braced on the wall of dryers across from him. His heavy black boots tap along to whatever he’s listening to. He’s about the most visually interesting guy Adam’s ever seen in Henrietta and he looks like danger personified: shaved scalp, tattoo ink visible from where his cutaway black wife beater hangs open at the sides. He’s kind of scrawny but not weak looking.

Adam eyes him warily before setting down his bag and pulling the bottom of his shirt up to wipe the sweat off his face; it barely makes a difference. When he looks up the guy is staring at him, well, staring at his stomach. Adam feels the back of his neck heat. He knows that his toned body looks nice but it’s still a surprise to catch people looking, especially when the person in question looks like every bad decision he would make if he ever went to any of the parties his roommates keep inviting him to.

In clear violation of social norms the other guy doesn’t look away and Adam feels his blush creeping to his ears. He picks up his bag and walks forward, pretending not to notice, trying to focus on finding an available washer. The first three are taken, two of them are still running while the third has stopped but the clothes have been left inside. The guy sits on the fourth washer, staring at Adam. It feels like intimidation and Adam bristles. He can see that the fifth washer is available and he waits for the guy to put his legs down so he can get by. Adam makes eye contact and the guy just smirks at him.

“Hey man,” Adam says, his voice cold but civil, “can you move your legs?”

The guy pulls his headphones down around his neck. Adam can hear loud electronica, like what his roommate Chris constantly listens to.

“You gotta pay the toll first,” the guy says. His voice is low, a seductive snarl that makes Adam’s chest feel warm.

“What?” Adam can’t believe this guy. A toll?

The guy cocks his head and gives Adam another appraising look, like he’s trying to decide what he should charge, what Adam can afford. It’s obvious that this guy has money: Beats headphones, Doc Martens, fancy jeans that look beyond distressed, the back piece alone would have cost more than Adam makes in a month working his summer job.

“Your name.” It isn’t a question.

Adam stares back, the heat spreading to his throat. Anger wars with attraction but it’s his pride that wins.

“Fuck you,” Adam shoots back. He puts every ounce of meanness into his voice.

“That’s a hell of a name,” the guy replies, grinning. It makes him look even more handsome. “Your parents must really hate you.”

“Oh, they do,” Adam answers. “You gonna move?”


It’s that damn smile that pushes Adam over the edge. He hates bastards who think they can do what they want because they’re good looking, because they have money. Adam doesn’t think twice before he knocks the guy’s boots down. They thud against the washer, hollow and loud in the empty laundry mat.

The guy laughs and kicks his heels against the washer in rhythm to the beat of his music. He smiles as Adam squeezes by and starts loading his clothes in the washer.

They don’t speak but Adam can feel the other guy’s eyes on him and it makes him feel flustered. His hands shake a little as he feeds quarters in the machine and he drops one. It rolls behind the washer and Adam knows, even as he gets down on his knees to look, that he’s never getting it back. In the narrow space between the machines he sees nothing but dust bunnies. He wants to smack the washer in frustration; it shouldn’t matter but he had brought exactly the correct amount for two loads, washed and dried. He’ll have to forego drying the second load.

Before he can climb to his feet Adam feels something cold touch the side of his neck, by his ear. That smoky, raspy voice says, “I think you dropped this.”

Adam looks up and finds the other guy leaning towards him, holding a quarter between his thumb and index finger like he just pulled it from Adam’s ear. He’s still grinning like he’s been told a dirty joke, but something about his vibe has softened, enough that Adam doesn’t immediately smack his hand away.

Adam palms the quarter, noticing the silvery scars on the guy’s forearms, an out of character detail that nags at him.

“Thanks,” Adam says, adding the quarter to the total in the washer. He selects the wash cycle, load size, and temperature and presses the start button. The washer surges to life and Adam settles against it feeling more tired than he should.

The guy kicks the toe of his boot against Adam’s thigh, demanding his attention. Adam sighs and turns to him, already regretting accepting the quarter.

“So,” the guy asks, “you come here often?”

Adam snorts a laugh. “Really dude? You’re trying to pick me up at the laundry mat?”

The guy continues to stare. It’s unnerving.

“Why not?” he asks. “My name is Ronan, by the way.”

“I don’t remember asking.” Adam’s pleased by the harsh frown the guy—Ronan—gives him. “I’m going to go do my homework. Have a nice life.”

Ronan gives a surprised or affronted huff but doesn’t bother Adam as he settles into one of the cracked plastic chairs near the entrance. Adam pulls his textbook out of his battered backpack and starts reading over the week’s assignment. Taking online summer courses seemed like a good use of his time when he signed up for them at the beginning of May but now he’s regretting it.

Adam shifts in his seat, trying to get comfortable. His sweaty shirt is cold against his skin and the seat is murder on his spine. He leans forward, the large textbook open on his knees. From time to time he steals glances at Ronan. The other guy has gone back to listening to his music. He looks better when he’s not being an asshole. Adam finds himself staring too long, thinking too much about Ronan coming onto him. Ronan looks over and catches Adam in the act and Adam flushes before ducking his head and going back to his book. When he looks again Ronan’s eyes are closed but he’s smirking.

After about thirty minutes Adam’s first load is done and he gets up and puts it in the dryer and starts his second load. Ronan intentionally ignores him and Adam tries to not let it bother him. After all, he shut the guy down, what was he expecting? While he’s pulling the last of his dirty clothes from the bag Ronan’s dryer buzzes, the cycle finished.

Ronan hops down and grabs a mesh bag that unfolds neatly. Ronan hip checks Adam as he moves to open the dryer. Adam grits his teeth but before he can come up with a scathing comment he sees what Ronan’s pulling out of the dryer: handful after handful of vibrant, neon-colored briefs. Adam’s mouth goes dry. The brand name, printed on the wide, elastic waistband reads Kalvin Clein but that’s not right. Adam’s never owned Calvin Klein anything but he knows how it’s spelled. The briefs don’t look like cheap knock-offs, though. In fact they look obscenely luxurious.

Ronan leans further into the dryer, digging around for the last of his briefs. Adam doesn’t mean to ogle him but he does, and he sees that custom brand peeking above the top of Ronan’s low-slung jeans, catches a flash of brilliant fuchsia fabric before Ronan pulls out of the dryer, a pair of lime green briefs twirling from his index finger.

Ronan winks at Adam and tosses the last pair on the veritable mountain of undergarments.

“See you later, Fuck You,” Ronan calls over his shoulder as he walks out of the laundry mat. Adam watches as Ronan climbs into a sexy BMW and smoothly whips out of the parking lot.

Later that night, when Adam strips out of his clothes to take a much-needed shower, a scrap of paper falls out of the pocket of his jeans. Adam stoops down and picks it up. Scrawled on the back of an ad for a psychic hotline is a number and a name: Ronan Lynch. Despite himself, Adam grins and tucks the number in his textbook.

Happy to Please You (Happy x Reader)

Thank you @coolihatemakingpasswords for sending this in <3 

Word Count: 3,868

Playlist: Chivalry is Dead - Trevor Wesley

Originally posted by wakinguptheneighbours

He stood outside Scoops, waiting for the rest of the boys to finish up inside before they were off on business. On any other day, he probably would’ve never noticed her as she passed. That wasn’t to say that when he did see her he didn’t think she was downright gorgeous. The only reason why she piqued his interest was the mountain of thick texts she had bundled in her arms, covering her main course of eyesight. 

He fought the smirk that built within him when he spotted her light eyes peeking around the heavy pile. She blew her bangs out of her eyes with a huff but that didn’t deter her. She continued forward, and as she neared him he heard the incessant muttering. She was guiding herself forward, hoping that she didn’t bump into anyone or anything. He took one small step into her line of pursuit and waited. 

It didn’t take long. Within a minute she’d walked straight into him, her gaze focussed on her destination and not where she was walking. She stumbled forward, all the books flying into the air and crashing into the ground. He watched with amusement, standing still as she fumbled around.

Keep reading



Happy x Reader
Juice x Reader
(GIFs aren’t mine)

Warning: Smut, Infidelity, Violence, Heartbreak.

“I know we live here, but I’m not SAMCRO, I’m a Nomad,” Happy spoke as he sat on the edge of the bed, pulling on his boots while you sleepily begged him not to leave, “Maybe one day soon I’ll ask to patch over,” he added, turning to you and taking your hand in his before he leaned down to kiss you.

“I’ll miss you,” you pouted, looking up at him through your eyelashes.
“I’ll be back soon,” he spoke matter-of-factly. He wasn’t the type to display amazing ranges of emotion, so his ‘I will be back’ was really his way of saying he’d miss you too, “You know the drill, call the garage or one of the guys if you need anything. Their numbers are in the prepaid. One of them will check on you while I’m gone.” His voice was raspy, authoritative, and back to being all business. He only let himself fall into the loving and reassuring version of himself for a short time before he would pull himself together and be completely emotionless again. It was tough being in love with him sometimes.

“One more kiss,” you begged, grabbing his arm as he stood to leave. He smirked at you, and at how much you needed him. He leaned down to plant another kiss on your lips, pulling away before you could deepen it.
“I gotta hit the road,” he said, throwing a small smile your way before he walked out of the room.

These were the parts of his life that you hated, the constant moving around that came with being a Nomad. Nomads were the first to be called in if another charter needed bodies, as they didn’t have a home of their own to take care of and look after.

But he knew you needed stability, a place to call home, and a family - that’s why he moved you down to Charming a year ago. SAMCRO was the definition of family with Gemma as the matriarch, he knew you’d find your place here, and he made it clear his intentions were to patch in eventually. Until then it’d just mean being gone a little longer when Quinn called a meeting, and having to go away more often if any of the West Coast charters needed help.

You’d gotten close to the Redwood folks, and you’d learned to get along with the hang arounds and crow eaters. You had even developed a good rapport with Gemma who, although motherly, was not the easiest to please.

You sighed as you fell back on the bed, Happy’s occupation made it to where you didn’t have to work, and he didn’t want you to, so you filled your days being a homemaker and visiting Gemma and the guys at TM, which is what Happy expected you to continue to do while he was gone. Instead, you had decided to mope while your man away, so you covered yourself back up and slept off the pain that came with being separated from him.

You had avoided TM for three days, sticking close to home and not leaving unless you absolutely had to. With Happy not around you didn’t have much reason to leave anyway. You were moping, definitely, because you knew life would be simpler if Happy would just transfer and you couldn’t understand why he hadn’t yet.

A knock at the door roused you and you got up from the couch, pausing your Netflix show as you stood and checked the peephole. It was Juice, the young mohawked member of SAMCRO with the scalp tattoos. You guessed he had been the one tasked with looking in on you while Happy was away. You faked a smile as you opened the door, greeting him and welcoming him inside.

“Happy asked me to check in on you while he was up in Tacoma. Has he called you?” Juice asked, following you back to your couch and taking a seat beside you.
“Not yet,” you responded, leaning against the seat back and looking over at the man beside you, “I figure he will call once business is taken care of.”

“Oh,” Juice spoke solemnly, “He called me about an hour ago, told me to get you and bring you to the clubhouse… I guess he had some issues in Tacoma and he doesn’t think you’re safe alone.”

You sighed, picking up the remote and turning off your TV.

“I’ll go pack a bag,” you huffed, standing up to go into your room, leaving Juice behind.

Gemma had the linens changed in the spare room at the back of the clubhouse and she showed you inside. Juice had been instructed by Clay, the large grey-headed man and President of this charter, to stay at the clubhouse and watch over you through the night. Apparently there would be a prospect watching over your home just in case anyone showed up. You were upset at the fact that you were being transplanted from your home without Happy around to comfort you.

You really didn’t do well on your own.

Thats why, when Juice came in the room to check on you before he went to crash on the couch, you asked him to stay and watch TV with you for a little while, desperate to fill the void Happy left.

That void also made you notice how muscular Juice was. Happy was muscular, lean muscle, and he had a nice body, but Juice was built bulkier, more muscular.

You tried to shake that thought out of your mind as he sat beside you, but you felt so out of place, unlike yourself… And secretly you resented Happy for leaving you.

“Juice…” you spoke, your voice trailing off as he turned to look at you, his carefree expression replaced by one filled with worry.

“What’s wrong?” he asked you as he sat straight, his eyes boring into you.

Logic completely lost to you, you leaned in and pressed your lips against his. He kissed you back for a moment before he jumped, startled, and pushed you away.

“What the fuck,” he gasped standing up from the bed and rubbing the back of his neck, eyes wide, not the reaction you hoped for as you hung your head, “I’m sorry I–”
“–you miss him,” Juice finished for you, “It’s okay. I get it. I…I’m gonna go now though.”

He scratched his head and took a deep breath, throwing his arm back down at his side and walking to the door.

“Wait!” you called as he reached for the handle and he stopped, frozen but still facing away from you, unmoving.
You stood and walked over to him, reaching your hands out to run up his back to his shoulders where you pulled your body against his and pressed your lips into the back of his neck. A shudder radiated through his body as your tongue darted out to massage his skin and he sucked in a harsh breath as your hands trailed down his arms.

He wanted you, too.

He turned and captured your lips with his own, walking you backwards to the bed as you helped each other undress. He paced away and dug in the dresser by the bed for condoms and found one, setting it on the bed as he knelt at the edge of the mattress between your legs, spreading them open to show your glistening folds as he pressed his mouth into them.

Immediately after it happened Juice was wracked with guilt. Sitting on the edge of the bed, completely naked, doubled over with his head in his hands, mumbling to himself about how he was going to hell after Happy murdered him for fucking his old lady.

You didn’t feel guilty though. Your relationship with Happy didn’t have much emotion, there was no romance. He rescued you from an abusive relationship when you were 21 and the two of you bonded. He took care of you and you took care of him and it was so much better than what you had come from that you mistook it as love.
You had been so grateful to Happy for keeping you safe that you never wondered what else was out there, you never wondered if real love felt different.

After being with Juice, feeling how he touched you and how he made you feel when he was inside of you, how he took his time and he was gentle, cautious, caring… You knew your feelings for Happy couldn’t be love.

You pulled yourself to sit next to Juice, taking his hand in yours and squeezing it. He looked up at you, his eyes filled with self hatred and you looked back into his eyes, determination in yours.

“It’s okay,” you reassured him, cupping his cheek and pulling him in to kiss you, “We’re okay.”

Juice stayed with you in your bedroom that night and you had sex with him again, and every night that followed until Happy came home. You never discussed telling Happy, the two of you knew that it was better he didn’t find out, but you both knew you didn’t want to stop.

Juice felt the same things for you that you felt for him, maybe it was love, maybe it was just the thrill of being with someone you shouldn’t be, but you knew you felt alive when you were with him. Sex with him was the best you ever had. You had only been with Happy and your ex, but somehow you knew he wasnt just better than them, he was great.

A week ago, you had been filled with dread over the idea of Happy leaving you, now a sick part of you was dreading is return. You had found something worth smiling about and you had to keep it a secret, you hated that.

You feigned excitement when you heard his bike pull up at TM, ignoring Juice’s somber stature as you walked outside to greet your old man.

“I missed you baby,” you smiled as you walked up to his bike, “you made it in one piece,” you joked as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders in a hug.
“I always do,” he rasped as his hands trailed down your back to your ass, giving it a firm squeeze and you jolted a bit, “I told you I’d be back soon,” he growled, his lips colliding with your neck as he pulled you tightly against him.
“Come on, let’s get outta here,” he brought his hand down to slap your ass cheek as he chuckled, “I’ll follow you back.”

You glanced back up at the clubhouse as you strode towards your car, Juice was leaning against the wall in the shadow of the building, watching you leave because that’s all he could do.

The entire drive home you couldn’t get your mind off Juice, the way he looked standing there watching you walk away.

Happy didn’t waste any time when you made it home, as soon as you crossed the threshold he had his body pressed against yours, his mouth on the juncture of your neck and shoulder as he walked you forward, his arms wrapped around your waist and his hardening member pressed against your back.

He released you suddenly and walked around you, grabbing your hand and pulling you towards the bedroom. It was hard to fake the excitement you usually felt when he came home, the bliss of being oblivious to what real love was, when the only thing on your mind was that perfect Puerto Rican back at TM.

He tossed you on the bed, ripping your pants and panties down your legs, heaving your shirt over your head and pulling your bra off.

Standing at the edge of the bed, he unbuckled his belt and yanked his jeans down to release his cock, quickly flipping you over on all fours and entering you harshly. You let out a squeal as he pounded into you gripping your hips for leverage. After a few minutes he pulled out of you and slapped your ass, “On your back,” he ordered climbing onto the bed with you and settling between your legs, peppering your neck and chest with  kisses when he re-entered you, slower this time. He flexed his hips in and out of you as you whined, wrapping your arms around him and digging your nails into his back.

“You like that baby,” he sighed as he pumped into you, his mouth right against your ear, “Tell me you like it.”

“Yes baby,” you moaned, your hands trailing up and rubbing his bald head, your mind wandering off to the man you had been with earlier, the other one with the shaved head.

“Tell me how it feels,” he grunted, snapping you out of your thoughts and you tossed your head back, “Mmm, Jui–” your eyes immediately shot open and you bit your lip, not believing what almost just came out of your mouth.

Your heart was pounding and the hope that Happy hadn’t heard what you were about to say was useless, he had already stopped moving and lifted himself to stare into your eyes, his eyebrows knitted together.

You gulped, tears accumulating in your eyes as you saw in his glare an anger you’d never seen before.

“What?” he spat and you knew that he already knew the answer.

He pulled out of you and got off the bed, pulling his jeans on as you sat up from the bed, silent tears streaming down your face.

You saw his fists, his jaw clenched and you were hesitant to speak, but you did anyway, “Hap I–”

Your words were interrupted when Happy whirled around, his fist connecting with the wall beside the bed, breaking clean through the drywall as he bellowed,

He turned to you, his eyes cold and hardened, “Did you fuck him!?”

Your bottom lip quivered as he huffed in front of you, his fist shaking from the impact it had endured, but you couldn’t answer him.

“My brother!?….While I was away!?” he screamed at you and you flinched, still unable to form a coherent thought.

He turned away from you, frantically pacing as his hands shot up to his head, rubbing viciously over the snake tattoo on his scalp, he wailed, turning to the mirrored closet door and smashed his fist into it, the glass shattering from the impact and falling to the ground as you blubbered. He turned back to you, tears in his eyes, this was the first time you had ever seen him cry, as blood dripped from his sliced up hand and small whimpers escaping his mouth as he breathed uncontrollably.

“I fucking loved you,” he cried out as a tear fell down his cheek.

You still had no idea what to say but you had to try, “I’m sorry Happy,” you sniffed looking down again as he stood there. He had only told you he loved you once or twice, and recently you had wondered if he was lying, but the way his emotions overcame him in front of you, you knew what he felt for you was real.

You wished you felt regret over what you had done, and in a way maybe you did, but the only thing you truly felt bad about was that your actions had hurt the one man that helped you when you needed it most. The one man who had ever really loved you.

“Juice… He, uh, he didn’t want to. I-I made him… He was…drunk…” you trailed off, hoping as a last effort you could at least save one person from this train wreck.

What was one more lie in a string of bad decisions and shitty behavior.

He roughly wiped his face with his arm, sniffling a few times as your mouth gaped, searching for the words that would heal him.

“Get out,” he growled, pointing to the door, his tears now dried as he regained control of his emotions.

You nodded, grabbing the clothes you had been wearing from the floor and walking out of the room. You stopped in the hall just long enough to get dressed, hearing Happy’s sobs through the door as he came undone, tearing you apart as you left the only house you had ever called home, knowing you’d never be able to repair the damage you had caused.

Crying as you stepped into your car, you typed a farewell text to Juice. He’d need the heads up when Happy finally moved onto anger from his current devastating sadness. You hadn’t bothered to pack anything, everything you owned was because of Happy, and you knew you didn’t deserve to take any of it with you after what you had done.

Tossing your phone in the back, you merged onto the 18 out of Charming, destination unknown, but knowing the burning bridge behind you was no longer a refuge for your broken soul.

REQUEST: Juice finds a girl on the side of the road and when he helps her he finds out she rides a Dyna like him.

You wiped the sweat from your brow, the heat almost unbearable.
You’d been walking for over an hour, after your bike ran out of gas.
The Californian sun beamed down at you as you walked and you found yourself wishing for a freak snowstorm.
It would be another hour of walking before you reached the nearest town, Charming, and the nearest gas station.
Your phone had died earlier that day and you hadn’t bothered to charge it, you were only going out for a ride and you wouldn’t need it. You were wrong.
In the distance you saw a black van approaching.
Thank god! You thought as you stepped into the road slightly and raised your arms at the van.
Juice drove along the road and saw a girl wearing ripped black jeans and a black tank, her hair braided loosely down her back. She stood on the road with her arms raised. She looked tired and hot, and Juice wondered what she was doing out here on the dry back roads as he slowed the van.
The van stopped infront of you and you dropped your arms, walking to the drivers side.

A guy with a Mohawk and scalp tattooes jumped out and suddenly the world fell away, drained all colour but him, standing in the sunlight. God he was handsome, his grin spreading across his whole face.
“Need a lift?” He asked you, an eyebrow raised as he looked over you.
You nodded, “Please, I ran outta gas.”
“Sure, jump in.” He smiled widely at you and you walked around to the passenger sides and jumped into the van.
You nodded, “Yes please! I’m dying for a drink!”
The guy laughed loudly and you looked at him with a blank confused face.
“My names Juice, sorry darlin. There is some water in that bag though.”
You blushed realising your mistake and reached into the bag he pointed at, searching for the water.
You found the bottle and opened it, pressing it to your lips and gulping down the whole thing.
You looked at Juice and saw he wore a leather kutte, your eyes running over his patches.
He’s a Son. You thought to yourself.
It didn’t scare you, it excited you. You’d always had a thing for bikers, being one yourself, and you’d always admired the loyalty between the club.
“You gotta name?” He asked you, catching you staring at him and smiling.
“Uh (Y/n)” you said, caught off guard. “What’s your real name?”
He looked at you, frowning slightly.
“Sorry, forget I asked.”
“No, no it’s okay (y/n). I’m just not used to people asking. It’s Juan Carlos. But everybody calls me Juice.”
You nodded at him and smiled warmly as the van sped past the Welcome To Charming sign.

The van swung into the gas station and you smiled at Juice as he stopped infront of a pump.
“There’s a gas tank in the back, you can fill it up and I’ll drop you back.” Juice said.
“Oh no it’s okay, I can get a cab.” You said as you undid your seatbelt.
“Really, (y/n), I don’t mind.” Juice told you and grinned at you widely as he hopped out.
He was the nicest outlaw you’d ever met, not that you’d met many. But he really wasn’t what you expected from a Sons of Anarchy member.
The two of you had talked on the way here, just small talk and laughing together. His laugh echoed in your ears, the most beautiful noise you’d ever heard and his smile lit a fire in your heart.
You jumped out too, Juice was already filling the container so you went inside to pay, grabbing two colas and a pack of cigarettes.
Juice sat in the van waiting for you and watched you walk out, the light wind blowing the hairs around your face gently.
He was glad he’d met you, you were like a breath of fresh air, and you seemed to really listen when he talked. You laughed at his jokes, and he loved the way your voice sounded in his ears.
She’s so beautiful, he thought as you smiled into the window at him.
You jumped in the van and passed a can to Juice, he took it and thanked you, before pulling out of the station.
“Mind if I smoke?” You asked him.
“Mind if I bum one off you?”
You laughed and passed him a cigarette, lighting your own.
Conversation flowed easy between the two of you as you drove and you laughed with Juice.
“How much further?” Juice asked you.
“About another mile.” You told him, “Thankyou for this Juan.”
He grinned widely at you as you said his real name and you blushed.
You drove a little while longer and saw your bike parked on the side of the road.
“Just here.” You said as you neared your bike.
“That’s your ride?” Juice asked you, clearly impressed as he pulled over.
“Yup!” You smiled at him. “That’s my baby. Dyna Supa glide.”
He stared at you shaking his head slowly with wide eyes and a small smile on his face.
“Who are you?” He whispered and you laughed, opening the door and hopping out of the car.
Juice did the same and walked you to your bike.
He passed you the gas can and you poured it in, before handing it back to Juice.
“Thank you for today, I owe you.” You smiled at him as you reached for your helmet.
“This is seriously yours?” He asked looking at your bike.
You rolled your eyes laughing.
“Yes Juan Carlos, this is mine.” You told him.
He stepped closer suddenly and pulled your body close to him, before he pressed his lips to yours.
You gasped in surprise and he pushed his tongue into your mouth.
Your body relaxed in his arms and you moved your lips with his, wrapping a hand around his neck.
You felt him smile as he kissed you and you pulled back slightly, blushing as you smiled up at him.
He grinned at you, holding your face in his hands.
“Where have you been all my life?”

Dirt on my boots- Happy Lowman

Been up since the crack of dawn
Just trying to paid
Been hotter than a hundred suns
I can’t find no shade
Just two more roads and I’m good to go
Yeah, I’m shutting this tractor down
Get me a half an hour for a shave and a shower
And I’ll be outside your house

Happys POV
Driving down the highway leaving Tacoma Washington you couldnt get your old lady off your mind. Been up since 3 am this morning the sun beating down on your back. You couldnt wait to get home. Pulling over for a quick stop to get gas you texted her.

Might have a little dirt on my boots
But I’m taking you uptown tonight
Might have a little mud on my wheels
But they’re gonna shine with you’re up inside
Gonna hit the club, gonna cut a rug
Burn it up like neon lights
Might have a little dirt on my boots
But we’re gonna dance the dust right off them tonight (yeah, girl)
Got a little dirt on my boots

Arriving at the clubhouse alittle earlier than Happy you got ready there. You put on a tight little black corset dress that made your boobs POP. With fishnet and your spiked 8in heels. You looked sexy as hell.
The music started and people started gathering inside you looked around and didnt see Happy. Making your way outside you waited for him. The thing you didnt know was he was already there looking at your beautiful self with lust.

Hard as I worked all day
I’m gonna work harder loving on you
Spin you all over that dance floor
Right out of them high heel shoes
And when you’re ready to quit
Baby, we can slip right out of that bar room door
And when I take you home, don’t worry babe
I’m gonna kick them off on the porch
Might have a little dirt on my boots
But I’m taking you uptown tonight
Might have a little mud on my wheels
But they’re gonna shine with you’re up inside
Gonna hit the club, gonna cut a rug
Burn it up like neon lights
Might have a little dirt on my boots
But we’re gonna dance the dust right off them tonight (yeah girl)
Got a little dirt on my boots

Happys P.O.V
Y/N looked so fucking sexy I just want to walk over there and take her now on the picknic table. You couldnt take your eyes off her. Then you got an idea. You walked up behind her and put your hands over her eyes.
“Guess Who”.
“Hmm is it that cute little prospect that looks at my ass all the time”?
“What no, its your old man. Where the hell is this prospect at”. Happy said geting mad.
“I was just kidding Baby I knew it was you, that sexy voice gave you away”. Kissing him to calm him down did the trick.
“Can I say you look really fucking sexy , can we just go to the dorm room”?
“No sorry, I need some foreplay before we fuck. So get those hands on me and lets have a  drink”.
Happy couldnt keep his hands, mouth and hard on off of you, you loved it feeling your man tease you under your dress. You were getting a little tipsey so you new it was time to leave.
You grabbed Happys hand and lead him to the dorm room. Happy went in first you closing the door. Happy turned around you were just standing in your fisnets with your heels on.
“So is this my surprise”. He asked taking his shirt and boots off.
“Look closer Daddy”.
“You pierced your nipples. Who did”?
“Yes I hope you will enjoy them, it was a woman so calm down no need to be upset”. You pushed him on the bed ready to take control but Happy had other plans. He flipped you on your back taking a nipple in hes mouth. You couldnt help but moan.
With your nipple in his mouth and one hand playing with the other he ripped you fishnet down the center. Sticking two fingers in your wet juicy core, he pumped in and out. You through your head back.
Happy took that as a sign he lined himself up and pushed in. It had been a while for the both of you.
“SHIT Little Girl, your so tight FUCK”. Happy thrusted deeper.
“Yes Daddy dont stop Oh God”.

A little dirty dancing, blue collar romancing
I can get cleaned up if you ask me
But I can only get so fancy

You laid there panting after three intense orgasms. Happys head on your chest, feeling your heart beat slow down to normal. You ran your hand on his scalp leaving kisses to tattoos. You felt the glow of being with someone like you. Someone you loved.
“You looked really good tonight, I’m loving these pierced nipples”. Happy said still playing with them.
“I’m glad, I spent a long time thinking about doing it. It hurt like hell but as long as your enjoying them it was worth it”. He lifted his head to kiss you. You bit his lip and slipped in your tongue.
“Ready for round two Baby Girl”.
“I’m always ready Daddy”.

Got a little dirt on my boots
But I’m taking you uptown tonight
Might have a little mud on my wheels
But they’re gonna shine with you’re up inside
Gonna hit the club, gonna cut a rug
Burn it up like neon lights
Might have a little dirt on my boots
But we’re gonna dance the dust right off them tonight (yeah girl)
Got a little dirt on my boots
Got a little dirt on my boots
Got a little dirt on my boots

Dirt on my boots by Jon Pardi


[ Request: Imagine you’re deaf and a little sister to Jax and Opie. One day, Juice approached you and tried to talk to you, but he got stressed because he doesn’t know sign language. The guys starts teasing him, but at the end they helped him. ] - [[ I ended this super cheesy because I just think Juice is the most precious thing who deserves endless happiness. ☺️]]

“Uh, hey.” 

Juice was standing behind you as you sat in the Sons clubhouse, your nose buried in a book. You were oblivious, of course. You couldn’t hear him walk up, and he was just out of your line of vision. You had no idea he was standing behind you, trying his best to strike up a conversation with you. 

“She’s deaf, idiot.” Tig stated with a roll of his eyes.

“Right.” Juice nodded his head. “Yeah.” He had been trying to work up the nerve to talk to you for months now. He finally decided to take the plunge and strike up a casual conversation. He was so nervous, obsessing over the perfect thing to say to you, that he had completely forgotten you were deaf.

He stood behind you, continuing to nod his head.

“That means she can’t hear you,” Tig said, speaking slower than normal and pointing to his ears to poke fun at Juice’s mistake. 

“Yeah.” Juice nodded his head. “I know what it means.”

“Why are you so tweaked?” Tig asked, taking a bite of his apple. He carefully watched Juice, who was still standing behind your seat, looking nervously back and forth between you and Tig. “Oh, my god,” Tig mumbled, his face spreading into a knowing grin. “You got a thing for her!”

“I do not!” Juice defended, his cheeks turning red.

“You do!” Tig cackled, “You got a thing for the deaf girl!”

“She’s not just a deaf girl,” Juice mumbled, his cheeks growing redder by the second.

“I know, I know.” Tig took another bite of his apple. “You gonna talk to her or what?”

“I- I don’t know,” Juice shrugged. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Aw, don’t be a pussy. Go talk to her, man!”

“Talk to who?” Jax asked, walking up to Tig and Juice. 

Juice’s eyes widened and he started fidgeting nervously. “Oh, uh, nobody.”

“Juicy’s got a thing for Y/N over there,” Tig answered, grinning wide.

Jax turned to Juice, an amused grin spread across his own face now. “Is that so?”

“I, uh - I don’t know what’s he’s -” Juice sighed loudly. He knew there was no point in lying to his brothers. They had already figured it out anyway. He nodded his head. “Yeah. I got a thing for her.”

Jax laughed and glanced over at you. You were still reading, oblivious to the conversation being held just a few feet behind you. You had grown up around Jax and Opie. You were three years younger, so they had always been a little over-protective of you. They both loved you and treated you like a kid sister, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Jax turned his attention back to Juice. “You should go talk to her.” 

Juice looked up, a surprised look on his face. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Jax answered with a nod. He looked back over your way and smiled. “I think you should.”

Juice didn’t know, but you had been harboring a crush on him for months too. You didn’t pursue it, though. You figured a guy like Juice wouldn’t be interested in a girl like you. So you kept it to yourself. Or at least you had tried to. Jax and Opie figured it out pretty quickly, and they hadn’t let you live it down since. You had a crush on a guy with a faux-hawk and scalp tattoos, and Jax and Opie thought that was hilarious.

Juice nodded his head again, clearly nervous. He walked towards you, taking a deep breath and reminding himself to calm down. 

“Try to make sure she actually sees you this time!” Tig called, howling with laughter.

“Shut up!” Juice called back, shaking his head. 

He stepped in front of you and tapped you on your shoulder. You looked up from your book to see Juice standing directly in front of you, a nervous little smile spread across his cheeks. “Hey.” He was rocking back and forth on the heel of his boots, his hands shaking ever so slightly. You smiled. It was endearing.

“Hey,” you said with a smile.

He began talking to you, but his nerves got the best of him. He was speaking too fast for you to read his lips. You had no idea what he was saying to you.

You shook your head and furrowed your brows. “I can’t - “ you motioned to his lips.

“What?” he blurted. He glanced over at Jax, a visible sign of distress. He was blowing his shot with you, big time.

“You’re talking too fast,” Jax explained. “She can’t read your lips.”

Juice nodded his head. “Yeah. Okay.” He turned back to you, swallowing hard. He knew he had to calm down, or he was going to lose his chance with you. He began talking again, but you still couldn’t make out what he was saying. You turned to Jax. 

“He’s from Queens,” Jax told you, shaking his head and laughing. “He doesn’t know how to talk slow.”

You looked at Juice. “It’s okay,” you told him with a smile. You stood, placing your book on the arm of the chair you had been sitting in, and walked outside for some fresh air. You had no idea Juice was trying to flirt with you, and you had no idea just how nervous he was.

“Shit!” Juice ran his hand over the top of his head. He raised his arm and motioned to the door. “It’s official. She hates me.” 

Jax and Tig exchanged glances. Both men broke out into laughter.

“Dude, you just gotta slow it down,” Jax told him.

“I didn’t even know your little pea-sized brain could work that fast,” Tig added.

“That was a wreck, Juicy,” Chibs stated, walking up to join his brothers. Juice hadn’t even known Chibs had been watching. He looked around to make sure none of the other guys had witnessed his failure.

“What am I gonna do?” Juice groaned, glancing out the window at you.

 Chibs slapped Juice on the back. “We’ll help you, brother.”


You felt a finger tap you lightly on your shoulder. You smiled. You already knew exactly who it was standing behind you. You turned in your seat. Juice was standing behind you, a wide child-like grin on his face. He began moving his hands. Your mouth opened in disbelief, and your smile grew wider. He was using sign language. He had learned it just for you. 

“I learned sign language,” he stated, signing along as he spoke. He shrugged and flashed you a hopeful smile. He was waiting for your approval. You nodded your head, urging him to continue. “I wanted to talk to you,” he explained. You nodded your head again. “I like you,” he said, but his signing wasn’t quite right. You just blinked at him. Juice bit his lip, now flustered. “I, uh - shit. I don’t know.” He shook his head. “I’m not sure how to - I just, I like you. I don’t know how to sign that.” 

You laughed lightly and placed a hand on his cheek. “I like you too, Juice.”

His eyes widened in surprise. “You can understand me?”

You nodded your head and laughed. “Yeah. When you’re not talking 100 miles an hour.”

Juice took a deep breath and let it out as relief washed over him. He bit his lip and grinned back at you. “Good.” 

He leaned over suddenly and placed a kiss on your cheek. You grabbed his face, flashed him a big smile, and pressed your lips to his. 



Juice Ortiz x Reader
(GIF isn’t mine)

“I’ll only be gone for a few days, babe. As soon as my sister is moved into her dorm I’m leaving straight from Cal and coming back home,” you assured your boyfriend as you wrapped you arms around his neck.

He put his hands on your hips and bit his bottom lip, looking to the side out of frustration.

“Hey…” you cooed, pressing a finger to his chin and turning his head back to face you. You pressed your lips into his and kissed him before nibbling his bottom lip and pulling it with your teeth, causing a groan to escape his throat.
“I’ll be back in no time.” you smiled and he took a deep breath.
“I’m just gonna miss you,” he whined and pressed his forehead against yours.

You smiled as you passed by the sign, ‘Welcome to Charming’ it read.

Home sweet home.

Even though you and Juice had only been dating a few weeks, you were anxious to get back to him. So anxious in fact that you helped move your sister and headed home at the crack of dawn, hours earlier than expected, wanting to surprise him.

What had started out as you responding to a roommate wanted ad that specified someone clean and quiet, ended with you moving in with a biker who had scalp tattoos and a Mohawk.

You two were definitely attracted to each other from the start, you weren’t easily intimidated, but it took several months before Juice finally kissed you. It happened while you were sitting on the couch scrolling through Netflix. He took you to bed that night and you had been inseparable ever since. Maybe living with someone and seeing them almost every day for several months made it easier to fall in love.

You smiled, looking at his bike in the parking lot when you pulled up around 8am. You were hoping to catch him before he left for work. Nothing better than some ‘I missed you’ morning sex.

You put the key in the lock and opened the front door, walking in and tossing your bag on the floor. Your heart stopped as you noticed a pair of heels by the door. They weren’t yours.

You were fuming. Immediately and without investigation you knew you would find a woman in your man’s bed. You flipped on the lights as you passed by and walked down the hallway to his room.

Opening the door, you found half of what you expected to see. There was the woman, still wearing last nights make up, and her slutty dress laying on the floor beside the bed, but Juice wasn’t there.
You were livid, wanting to confront him so bad when you heard the toilet flush and the shower start. You were so gonna kick his punk naked ass.

You busted the door open and Juice who was just stepping in the shower jumped, spinning around and covering himself up.

“Oh! Hey baby you scared me I thought you were–”
“–you thought I was that bitch that’s in your fucking bed right now!?” you yelled, grabbing a can of hairspray from the counter and hurling it at him.

“Baby!” he dodged the can as you threw a hairbrush, “Hey! Wait! Stop throwing stuff!” he pleaded with you sticking his arms out in front of him and you stomped towards him, glaring,

“I didn’t sleep with her!!!” he yelled in a panic and you stopped, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Really? Really Juice? I come home and there’s a bitch in YOUR bed and you’re trying to convince me that you didn’t fuck her?! Fuck you!” you yelled, shoving him and turning around.

Juice wrapped a towel around himself and chased after you, reaching out and grabbing your arm.
“(Y/N) I would never do that to you. She is in my bed because I slept in your bed last night…” he trailed off and you stared at him, narrowing your eyes and silently willong him to finish his story and tell you how another woman ended up in your apartment anyway.
“…she was knocking on the door at 3am, totally drunk and lost and didn’t know where she needed to go, she could barely talk (Y/N). I knew it wasn’t safe for her to be wandering around like that so I brought her in and let her sleep in my room….” you folded your arms, and raised an eyebrow, waiting for more info. He was glad you were at least hearing him out so he kept talking, “…if you don’t believe me let’s go wake her. I even left a note on the table beside the bed with aspirin and a bottle of water. Go look!” he pleaded and you sighed, pushing past him to go visit the chick in his room.

You walked in, not saying anything but going straight for the note on the bedside table and lifting it to read it.

You were knocking on my door late at night and you were way too drunk to be out alone so I gave you a bed to sleep in for the night. There’s water and aspirin on the table. Please don’t steal anything. I’m down the hall if you need me.

At that moment, the drunk slut rolled over and rubbed her eyes, opening them and looking confused at you and Juice.
“Where am I?” she asked groggily and Juice explained to her what happened, a little embarrassed to be standing there wrapped only in a towel.

The girl was mortified to be in the situation she found herself in, but thanked the two of you for helping her. She got up from the bed in her bra and panties and pulled on her dress. She took the aspirin and water and apologized profusely for imposing as Juice showed her out.

When he turned around from the front door, you were there, apologetically staring back at him. “I’m so sorry babe…” you whispered, pouting, and he gave you a half smile, leading you down to your room, and turning to you, taking both of your hands in his.
“I know how it looked. I’m sorry. But I just felt like it was my duty to help her.” Juice shrugged

“My boyfriend, the Knight in Shining Armor… ” you smiled, stepping in close to him and placing your palms on his chest.

His eyes crinkled as he smiled and pulled you close to kiss him, “I missed you so much (Y/N),” he mumbled against your lips as he squeezed your ass and pulled away from the kiss.

“If I said I was mad at you would we get to have make up sex?” he smiled, winking at you and you laughed, pulling him to the bed.
Make up sex, I miss you sex, or thank God you weren’t cheating on me sex, it didn’t matter to you as long as it meant you got to fuck your man.

Hot for the Teacher ll

Imagine you’re Abel’s teacher (age 5) and SAMCRO attends to the school annual bake off. 

Originally posted by indie-cinema

Originally posted by tiffanydearr

You didn’t called. You didn’t asked the kid about his father and certainly you were nowhere the TM in hopes to find Jackson Teller. You knew better than that. Of course, he was a handsome bad biker and yeah, your panties were ruined by the end of the day when you met him but it was non ethical to flirt with one of your students dad. 

Single dad. You sighed as you got up and started to write on the board the promotional for this Friday’s annual school bake off. 

“Now, every single one of you would bring your favorite dessert. Mine are chocolate chip cookies.” You put out as an example, even though it was true. Almost all the kids cheered, making you grin. “Either mommy or daddy have to come with you to sell the dessert. You’ll  have plany of fun, guys, it will be like a carnival. Remember the kid that sells the most will have an special gift at the end of the day.” The bell ringed making everyone stand up and leave quickly, Abel running out, you holding back, trying not to follow him. You were kind of nervous, about seeing Jax again, but you tried to shrug it off. He probably wouldnt showed up to a silly bake off. 

You stepped out of the shower on Friday, applying your make up on the table in front of your bed; The white pin up style dress with a red rose pattern laying on the bed along with simple red sneakers; After finishing your mascara you saw it on the top right corner of the mirror, next to a picture of you with your childhood dog and the grocerie list; Jax’s number. You sighed and shook your head, avoiding the feeling. You wouldn’t give in, you would be professional and you would sell the pumpkin pie you bought this morning at Walt Mart. 

You stepped into the school playground, pumpkin pie in hand, purse on your arm, papers on the other one. You waved at your coworkers, as you walked past them, setting your dessert on the table, next to the class moms and even some dads. Your class was small, maybe 15 kids, so you knew pretty much everyone. Kids were running around, tables on the place filled with perfect and delicious looking pies and desserts and also balloons, music, people dancing and places where the kids could draw and paint. You smiled, finishing decorating the table and clapped your hands together. Everyone was there, but a little blonde kid was missing.

“Katie…” you asked the teacher with the table next to your class. “Have you seen Abel Teller?” She looked like she was thinking and then shook her head. 

“Isn’t that him?” a usual band of Harley’s parked outside the school playground and Abel hoped off, helmet still in his head running over to you. You smiled looking at his tiny legs mess up the grass. You looked up, leather following him. Chibs running to catch him and lift him up the air, that’s when you noticed the kid had a cookie, half of it, at least on his hand. 

“What did i told ya, little lass?” The Scotsman said. “No running with food in ya’ mouth.” He nodded, offering Chibs the rest of his cookie as an apology, which Chibs took, stuffing his mouth with it. He placed Abel down and walked over to you. “Mrs. (Y/N), always a pleasure.” 

“Fillip” You greeted, crunching down to reach Abel’s height, being meted by a big beautiful and very Teller-like smile. “Hey Abel.”

“Hi Mrs. (Y/N).” He greeted blushing a little. You messed up his hair.

“Why don’t you go play with Angela and Charlie, huh? They’re over the, by the swings, next to Mrs. La-brad. Have some fun.” Abel nodded and walked over to his friends, catching up on the playing schedule. “He was supposed to bring a dessert.” 

“And he does.” A grey hair, big man said, wearing an Elvis costume along with a pink apron and holding a tray, filled half with big and amazing looking cookies and half with spongy chocolate cupcakes said, flashing a smile at you. “Bobby Elvis; Abel’s uncle” 

“Really?” Chibs nodded taking off his gloves and placing himself behind the table, smirking at the young mothers. 

“SAMCRO is here to help Abel win the prize.” Bobby said. “And i offered Mrs. Munion an special Elvis number. Kids love the King.” You nodded. Charming kids seemed to love Elvis Presley. Right after Bobby and Chibs, a tattoo scalped dorky looking man, older than you for about 3 years walked in, another tray in his hands.  You crossed your arms in front of your chest; You couldn’t believe it. 

“Hey.” Juice greeted. “These are the last ones” 

“I made 4 trays.” The man nodded, then pointed at the other 5, or 6 man chilling next to their Harleys, lifting several cupcakes and cookies, making Bobby shake his head. “Big bad biker love dessert.” Juice snorted and nodded, aiming to grab a cookie.

“A dollar!” Abel said running towards Juice and jumping into Chibs arms. “That’s a dollar, Juicy” Juan Carlos scoffed and nodded, handing the little boy a dollar, enjoying his not so free cookie. You laughed at the cute scene, but you could tell your suspicions were right. Jax was not coming. 

Or that’s what you thought, when you saw him pull over and hop off his bike, taking off his helmet and fixing his pants. Abel was playing with you with a red shinning ball when he saw his daddy.

“Daddy!” He screamed running to meet him, making you smile as you got up and quickly followed, fixing your dress; suddenly, and as twisted as it sounded, you wished you had wore something more flattering. Jax picked his son up and kissed his forehead, making Abel laugh and squirm in his arms. 

“You finally arrived.” You said caressing Abel’s hair and smiling at Jax.

“Wouldn’t miss it. With all the TM and MC business, Bobby doesn’t bake as much as he did.” He smiled at you, giving you a warm smile and walking closer, kissing your cheek. “How’s it going, Miss?” You blushed bright red and smiled. 

“It’s going.” 

Abel was playing with his father’s kutte. “And his Elvis is even rarer.” He continued as he looked down at Abel and kissed his forehead again. “What are you doing son?”

You bit your lip; How could he be a mix of everything? How could he be a father and the president of an outlaw club? How could he hold his 5 year old with hands that killed and tortured? 

How could you be so afraid of him and still feel so attracted? 

“Hey son-” He said, placing Abel down, while still looking at you. “Remember what we talked at home?” His soon put on a lost face then nodded, smiling and even blushing a little. Abel was adorable. “Go on, then.” He gave him 5 dollars and Abel ran away, screaming and laughing as Chibs tried to chase him. 

“Seems like your baked goods are doing fine.” You said fixing your hair and looking at Juice and Elvis selling out Abel’s dessert, while flirting with the young mothers. “It’s the Reaper charm.” You laughed along with Jax, until an old lady, probably a grandma looked at the bikers like they had the plague and three heads. Jax went fully silent and shook his head, sitting down in a chair near.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, walking closer to him. Jax lighted up a cigarette without a drop of shame and shook his head.

“Did you saw that?” You turned around, hands on your hips, knowing he meant the rude old ladies. “That’s the look that Abel’s gonna get just because i’m his old man. He’s not gonna be Abel. He’s going to be Jackson Teller’s son all his life, who knows…” he said looking down and blowing the smoke off; For a minute you thought he was talking to himself, forgetting about you. “Maybe he’s going to pay for my sins.”

“Well-” you began looking at your neatly painted red nails. “I think this town needs to start looking behind the kutte. You’re all man, most of you are fathers.” Jax nodded. 

“You see behind the kutte?”

“I try”

He snorted and smiled. “What do you see?”

“I see loving father, a troubled young men. A widower, an outlaw with  a firm sense of what’s right.” This made Jax look up at you. “Someone’s who’s fighting to make the right thing. And who knows…” making sure no one was looking you took a drag of the cigarette blowing the smoke out. “Maybe Abel’s not gonna pay for anything.”  

Jax looked at you as a blind man would see his mothers face for the first time. You blushed and looked down, afraid that you were being too personal. 

“You know…”

Jax was interrupted when Juice come on to both of you, jogging slightly. 

“Jax, we need to go. Alvarez called.” Jax looked at Juice and nodded, stomping on his cigarette as the tattooed man walked away. He called for Abel, who showed him a thumbs up,  but the little boy was already being handled by Chibs who was putting a helmet on him.

“Duty calls.” He said smiling at you, a bit cheeky. You nodded. 

“I understand.”

“You think you do.” The president looked back, all his brothers already on their bikes. “Listen…” his blue eyes piercing into yours. “Come over at TM tomorrow. Saturdays always call for parties there. Inside of you, you were screaming like a 15 year old, but you had to remain profesional. 

“Oh, Jax, i don’t think it would be a good idea.” You said, when every nerve on your body wanted to scream yes. 

“Abel’s leaving to a farm with my ex wife for the weekend. She’s taking him and Thomas, that way we won’t give the poor kid any ideas.” 

You shifted, akwardly on your place but nodded. 

“9 PM. Maybe i can show you something more than a loving father.” He winked, kissing your hand like a gentleman and leaving you standing there. 

When you came back to your table, you found a big box of your favorite chocolate cookies, the one’s that Lana’s mom made, a note attached to it. 

“We heard you like chocolate chip cookies. Treat yourself. 

xoxo, Abel and Jax Teller.” 

Imagine meeting Juice for the first time.

“No,” you muttered as the screen of your laptop froze for a moment before going black. “No, no, no, no!”

You slammed the computer shut, slid it away from you in frustration and let your head fall onto the table in despair.

A waitress approached your table, pot of black coffee in her hand.

“Another refill?” she asked, gesturing to your empty cup with the pot.

You nodded glumly, thankful for this all-night diner and its free coffee refills. You were going to be here for a while, you knew that much. You had nearly finished your last essay for university. It was your last year and you only had a few more assignments to do and you were done, however your laptop had a tendency to crash and you didn’t have enough money to buy a new one yet.
The waitress filled your cup, flashed you a sad smile and went back to her job.

You took a deep, calming breath and dragged your laptop back to you. You opened it up and pressed the power button. Nothing happened. Trying to remain calm (and not freak out because this essay was due in two days’ time) you tried it again, yet still nothing.

You closed it again, accepting that it was a lost cause, and hung your head in your hands. You bit your lip hard and willed yourself not to cry. It was just an essay, you told yourself; you could write it again.

“Ya’ alright lass?” a deep, Scottish voice asked you. You lifted your head and your eyes, puffy from both lack of sleep and unshed tears, met with those of an elder man with grey hair, scars on his cheeks and a furrowed brow.

You nodded, but your mouth spoke without permission and your words betrayed you.

“No,” you told him and after that, it seemed the words just wouldn’t stop. “My laptop just crashed and I lost my whole assignment, which is due in two days, and of course I didn’t save it frequently because I was so engrossed in writing and getting it done that it didn’t occur to me to actually save my work and now this stupid machine won’t even turn on so now not only do I need to re-write the entire thing but I need to do it by hand.”

He stared at you in shock and you realised you had just unloaded everything on some random guy.

“I’m sorry,” you said, inhaling and exhaling deeply. “I don’t know why I just told you all that. I guess I’m just tired and frustrated.”

“It’s alright love,” he said with a smile. Something about him was comforting; he had a kind of fatherly vibe that made you feel more relaxed. “I know someone who might be able to help you out.”

And that’s how you ended up on the back of some guy’s motorcycle, at quarter-to-midnight, to go to some clubhouse that you didn’t even know existed until now.

Once you reached the clubhouse (which you recognised as Teller-Morrow, an auto shop) the man – who had, at some point, introduced himself as Chibs – took your laptop from you and led you inside the clubhouse.

It was not what you were expecting. You were expecting a lot of bikes and old dudes with huge beards. While there were a lot of bikes, and one really tall guy did have a huge beard, most of these guys looked to be not much older than you, maybe in their thirties, and the place was crawling with scantily clad women.

One guy whispered something into the ear of a brunette girl (who didn’t quite fit in with the rest of the girls here; she wasn’t dressed as scandalously and there was an air of importance around her) and then made his way over to you and Chibs. The man had blonde hair that was tied in a bun and some scruffy facial hair. You noticed one of the patches, on what Chibs had told you was called a ‘kutte’, that read President.

“Chibs,” the president greeted the man and eyed you cautiously.

“Jax,” Chibs replied with a nod.

“Who’s this?” the president, Jax, asked with a nod in your direction.

Chibs introduced you and told Jax what had happened with your computer and why he had brought you back here.

“I thought Juice might be able to take a look at it for her,” Chibs explained.

Jax nodded and turned back to the crowded room. He cupped his hands over his mouth and called out “Juicey!”

A head shot up from the crowd. The head, you noticed, bore a mohawk that was decorated at either side with what looked like some sort of tribal scalp tattoos. There was a girl in his lap but he gently lifted her off and made his way through the crowd to the three of you.

“Yeah Pres?” he asked Jax, a bright smile on his face.

You thought it probably wasn’t the best time, but you couldn’t help but admire how cute this guy Juice was. You were tired and upset and feeling completely over this day, but his smile alone made you want to smile right back. The way his eyes crinkled at the sides made your heart flutter; he looked much too sweet for this place.

Jax officially introduced you to Juice, who turned that megawatt smile towards you and held out a hand. You shook it, suddenly feeling shy, and pushed the thoughts of how nice his hands felt to the back of your mind.

“She’s having some computer troubles; think you could help?” Jax told him.

Juice’s face twisted in thought.

“I could try,” he said with a nod. “Do you know what the issue is?” he asked you.

You shook your head a little with a shrug.

“No, sorry. It’s just…old.” You said. “It died tonight and honestly, even if you could just get my data off it that would be enough.”

“It could just be the motherboard, but I’ll check it out.” He said with a nod. The smile was back when Chibs handed him the computer. He gestured to the computer in his hands. “I’ll be in my room if you guys need me.”

Jax then went back to the brunette girl and you told Chibs to go and enjoy himself, telling him that you’d be fine here on your own (you’d scream if you needed him).

After they were gone, you saw Juice walking down a hall and with only slight hesitation, you chased after him.

“Juice-” you reached a hand out to stop him and it landed on his bicep. You took it back quickly, slipping your hands into your pockets so you didn’t accidentally (or purposely) grope him again. “Sorry.” You said quickly. You didn’t want him to think you were some weirdo (at least not when you just met).

“It’s fine,” he grinned with a small shake of his head. “I have no objections to pretty girls touching me.” He added a teasing wink that sent a foreign, fluttering feeling throughout your body and a blush spread to your cheeks.

Not knowing how to respond, you ignored the compliment and continued with what you were originally going to ask him.

“Uh, anyway, I was just going to ask if you’d mind me watching you?” You asked and he raised an eyebrow at you. “While you fix my laptop, I mean.” The blush on your face deepened. “Pretty much my whole life is on that thing and I’d just feel better if I was there and could see what was happening. I mean it’s totally fine if you’d rather do it alone! You’re the one doing all the work, you probably don’t want distractions but I promise I won’t ask a lot of questions.”

You finally stopped rambling, cursing yourself for making an idiot out of yourself in front of the cute guy.

“Sure,” he said. “I’d love some company; as as many questions as you’d like.”

You smiled and followed him to his room. You did ask him questions, but he didn’t mind. He answered every one patiently and with words that you could understand, which you appreciated. At some point the conversation turned from computer parts to a mix of everything and anything. You told him about university, he told you about working at TM and so on and so forth. You found that you liked his company and secretly hoped this wouldn’t be the last time that you saw him.

The topic sling-shotted back to electronics quickly when the screen of your laptop lit up (after Juice taking it apart and putting it back together, adding a few of his own spare parts). He told you that he managed to save most of your essay (himself and autosave could only do so much) so you’d have to rewrite the last few chapters, but other than that everything was working and in tact. He had started to tell you what was wrong with it and how he fixed it when you cut him off with a happy squeal and slung your arms around his shoulders, enveloping him in a tight hug.

He chuckled and hugged you back.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” you praised into his kutte.

“It’s no problem, really.” He replied, one hand resting on your back while the other rubbed it gently. His soft voice in your ear brought you back into reality and you let go of him like you’d been electrocuted.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, unable to meet his eyes. “I didn’t mean to hug you like that, I just-”

You couldn’t finish your sentence because Juice had covered your mouth with his own. The kiss was brief but sweet and when he pulled away, you saw that his face was as red as yours had been all night.

You stayed with him until the early hours of the morning, just talking and getting to know each other (with, unfortunately, no more kissing) until you were nearly dozing off beside him. He offered to drive you home and you accepted the offer gratefully.

You were sad to see him leave but all in all you were ecstatic; you had ended the night with a working laptop, your work nearly fully recovered, a new contact in your phone and a date set for next weekend. Yeah, you decided, this was a pretty good night.

Plot Hole

Juice tells Lt. Roosevelt in season 4 that he knew who his dad was, but he never met him.

In season 7, it’s revealed that juice has another scalp tattoo with the date 12/27/1980* (revised bc i said 1989 originally and was wrong) on it, the day that his dad supposedly left his family.

If both of those facts are true, that would make Juice too young in the beginning of the show, and in his mid to late twenties by the end of the show.

There’s no way that Juan Carlos Ortiz was that young. No way. The club would never let someone so young (without blood ties to the club) Prospect.

Request: Make things right

Request: One shot where I’m jax daughter and he like thew me out and one year I become successful with singing and they come see me in my singing and listen to the song I sing you don’t own me by grace and colors by halesy and the WHOLE (i.e.) like tara and gemma is there club is shocked and they try to talk to me but security doesn’t let them so they follow me into my Manson and they are shocked I have a huge house and a baby girl but they tell me they need help with money and I help them and happy ending BTW the baby girl is happy’s 

Song reader is singing, HERE

It was hard to write this one. I’m writing the request, but I don’t believe Jax would not want a child, it doesn’t matter who is the mother, but I wrote it and I’m sorry if this offend anyone, somehow. 

Tig Trager Warns You, This Imagine Contains: mentions of sex, rejection, depression

Originally posted by sonsofanarchyfans


The leather kutte was missing, but I could easily see him as a Son. I was finishing my beer when he entered the bar. Nobody else paid attention to him, but I couldn’t look away. He noticed, locking his brown eyes with mine and licking his lips. He got closer and we started to talk as we drank. I had stopped in that place, on Charming’s city limits, just for a beer before hit the road, but there I was, spending hours with that mysterious man. Booze made me bold and next thing I knew we were in the back of my car, having sex. I scratched his tattooed scalp and moaned as we both came. I sat next to him, trying to catch my breath. He put his jeans on again and hopped off the car, just like that, no names asked, no cuddles after the sex.

I sighed and jumped to the driver’s seat, pulling my skirt down my thighs again. He leaned on my window and I glared at him.

“New in town?”, he motioned to my suitcase on the passenger’s seat.

“No”, I hissed and started the car, “I’m leaving”


3 years later…

I closed the blinds when we got closer to Charming. We wouldn’t stop, just pass through the little town, but I didn’t want to see it. I had left a while ago, but it still hurt to think about my life there.

I had avoided SAMCRO, the famous motorcycle club, my entire life, but it was kinda hard to do it when my father was the VP. My mother had been one of his one-night-stands and he didn’t want to be father, not when he was so young. Jackson Teller, my father, was trying to forget his girlfriend, who had left him, so he was drinking and having sex with random girls. We didn’t have a good relationship, actually he practically ignored me, unless club was going through a lockdown because one of his enemies. Then he would send someone to pick me up and I would hide somewhere at the clubhouse and wait for the lockdown to be over. I was invisible.

One day, someone finally noticed me and I had the chance to leave that place and I did it. I hadn’t been close to Charming in years, I thought in gave it just a quick look, but before I could open the blinds a child crying got my attention. She was more important than Charming and its people.

Happy’s POV

Jax had been acting strange all day, nervous and smoking one cigarette after another. Club wasn’t going through any trouble as far as Happy knew, so it must be personal. Gemma arrived at TM, mother and son had been locked inside her office since then. When SAMCRO’s president finally entered the clubhouse again, he looked at his brothers and announced they would go for a ride that night. He thought it would be some club business, but Happy found himself in a concert, looking at the stage, waiting for the singer.

“How you never told me you had a daughter man?”, Happy inquired, turning to at Jax, who was standing next to him. Tara, Jax’s old lady, and Gemma were there too.

“We never had a good relationship”, his brother sighed, pinching his nose, “I was lost, it was just one night, but… I couldn’t be a father, I was too young and I hated that child and her mother for awhile… I was wrong, I should have been a better father. You have no idea how much I regret this. I don’t know what I am doing here, but maybe I get the chance to make things right”

He didn’t know how Jax would do that, but Happy would be there for his friend. He never had thought about being father, he didn’t do relationships, but Happy would never give up on his child, he would want to be the father he never had.

The lights and a man announcing the singer caught his attention. Happy turned his look to the stage again and there she was, Jax’s daughter…And the girl he had sex with on his first night visiting Charming.


Happy felt a lump on his throat. How that had happened? He had had sex with his president’s daughter, a girl that should be completely off limits for him. However, they had met each other in a bar, he didn’t know who she was, they hadn’t said their names. It had been a random, half naked, quick and incredible hot fuck in the back of her car.

Y/N was singing and she was good. The lyrics said “You don’t own me, don’t try to change me in any way” and Y/N was pouring her heart out, he could see it. SAMCRO family was watching the show in awe, people singing Y/N’s songs with her; in a short time, she had conquered fame and it would only grows.

“Come on”, Jax called his brothers as soon as the show ended. They tried to get close to the stage, but security wouldn’t let them pass. Happy saw Y/N from afar and she turned her head in their direction when Jax yelled her name. She got pale and someone pushed her inside a car.

“Let’s go brother”, Happy pushed Jax back to where their bikes were, “We can think about this at the clubhouse”


“Are you sure?”, Jax asked as they parked the bikes in front of a house in Los Angeles.

“Yep”, Juice nodded, admiring the place too, “What’s the plan?”

All the Sons looked at their president. Jax took a deep breath and just walked to the gate. They waited as he talked on the intercom; it took a while but someone was finally coming from the house. Happy put his sunglasses up and saw Y/N there. She didn’t look pleased to see them.

“What are you doing here?”, she barked, “How did you find me?”

“Y/N please”, Jax begged to his daughter, “We need to talk”

“I don’t think so”, Y/N shook her head and turned her back on them. Jax was about to yell, call her back when a little girl came running, a woman chasing her.

“Mommy!”, the girl giggled and Y/N glanced at the bikers outside her gate. She lifted the little girl on her arms and walked away, but not before Happy could notice the girl’s big brown eyes, just like his.


A couple of days had passed and the atmosphere around the clubhouse couldn’t be worse. Jax was disappointed his daughter didn’t want to see or listen him; and now the club was going through financial problems. Happy couldn’t bear that situation anymore, so he hopped onto his bike and drove to Los Angeles, only stopping at Y/N’s gate. He asked to talk with her on behalf of Jackson Teller.

“Could you please tell my father I don’t want to speak with him?”, Y/N barked on the intercom, “If he insists, I will call the police”

“I need to talk to you Y/N. This is Happy Lowman, the guy you fucked on the back of your car years ago”, he blurted and she gasped on the other side.

“I don’t wanna talk to you or any Son. Leave me alone”, she said after a minute of silence.

“No”, Happy clenched his jaw, leaning closer to the microphone, “I saw your little girl. How old is she? Two years old maybe? Who is her father?”

“It’s not your business”, Y/N hissed.

“Yes, it is, because I think she is mine!”, Happy heard her gasp again, “I won’t hurt you or my daughter. I won’t take her from you, but I want her to know me, I want to be a part of her life… Listen, I know you don’t want to know about us, but… Your father is really sorry, he wants to apologize and… This is too much, but we could use your help, financial problems… Think about it. You know where to find us”

Days later…

SAMCRO had done some business in the last few days, but it wasn’t enough, they were barely keeping their heads above water. They needed a big deal soon. Happy was outside the clubhouse, trying to think and come up with a plan, when a car entered the parking lot. Y/N hopped off the car, surprising him. She looked at Happy and opened the back door, lifting her little girl from the car seat. He walked toward them, looking at the girl on Y/N arms. She looked up at him and he could see the resemblance.

“Do you wanna hold her?”, Y/N whispered. He raised an eyebrow, not sure if he had the right to do it. She smiled and nodded, “She is your daughter”

“Y/N?”, they both turned around at the sound of Jax’s voice.

“Hi father”, Y/N started to tear up and grabbed an envelope from her purse, handing it to Jax, “I heard you guys needed help with money”

“Darling…”, Jax sighed and pulled his daughter to his arms, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I should have tried harder, I should have… I don’t have to help us, especially after everything I put you through”

“I won’t lie to you father, it still hurts, but…”, she pulled back and wiped the tears, “We should try it and… Maybe she is our second chance”

Y/N looked to her daughter and Happy walked closer to them. Jax looked from the little girl to Y/N, “Is…Is she my granddaughter?”, he was crying too, “Jesus!”

“Yes, she is”, Y/N answered, looking at Happy, who nodded, “She is your granddaughter and Happy’s child”

“What?”, Jax asked as Happy let him hold the little girl.

“Long story”, Y/N grimaced, “We should go inside to talk about this”

As everybody walked back inside the clubhouse, Y/N stayed behind with Happy. “Thank you”, she whispered.

“No”, he held her arm, making Y/N look at him, “Thank YOU, for helping us and let me see my daughter”

“This won’t be easy Happy”, she sighed, “And after my own experience, I expect you to be a great father”

Happy Lowman had never imagined he would be a father someday, but was sure he would do his best to be a good one, “Yes, I will”


[[ Request: imagine where the guys rescue you from a dangerous situation and juice is the one to get you out and take you back to the clubhouse and keep you safe and you both kinda fall for each other ]] - I decided to make this one kind of fluffy, because Juice is adorable, and I just really like to see him happy. 💘

“You okay?” 

You looked up, eyes wide. 

Today had been the day from hell, and you were still shaken. You nodded your head at Jax and took a deep, shaky breath. You were trying your best to calm your nerves, but it just wasn’t happening. You had been at home, minding your own business and going about your day just like it was any other day. That is until you heard the sound of someone kicking in your front door. You ran to the bedroom and hid in the closet, listening to the sound of several sets of feet stomping noisily through your home. You called Jax in a panic. You were close with the MC. That was no secret around Charming. And you knew this was more than likely some rival MC retaliation. Your voice shook as you hurriedly whispered into your phone, telling Jax exactly what was happening and praying the people in your home didn’t hear you. The next thing you remember is hearing the low rumble of motorcycles in your yard, shortly followed by yelling and a few silenced gunshots. You heard footsteps running towards your room, and Juice had stormed in, pulling you out of the closet and looking you up and down to make sure you weren’t hurt. It turned out to be Mayan retaliation, just as you’d suspected. The guys had handled it, and you were safe now, back at the Sons clubhouse. But you were still terrified after the day’s events. 

Jax patted a hand on your back and placed a friendly kiss on top of your head. “You’re safe now, sweetheart.” He glanced towards the bar. “You wanna stay here tonight? A bunch of the guys will be here to watch over you. Keep you safe.”

You nodded your head. You didn’t want to go back home. Not yet anyway.

Jax smiled lightly and nodded his head. “Okay, sweetheart. I’ll get Gemma to set you up a room.” He turned to walk away when Juice walked up.

“What’s up?” Juice asked, glancing down at you and back to Jax. Juice had been the one to save you, and he was the one who brought you back to the clubhouse. You instantly felt safe in his presence.

“Y/N’s staying here tonight,” Jax answered. “I told her we’ll have some of the guys watch over her and make sure she’s safe.” 

Juice nodded his head quickly. “I can stay with her.” 

Jax raised an eyebrow and smiled. He turned to you. “That okay, babe?”

“Yeah,” you answered, smiling at Juice. It was more than okay with you. You liked being around Juice. He was cute, funny, sweet, and he made you feel safe. There was no one else you’d rather stay with you.

“Cool.” Juice grinned. “You can stay in my room.” 


“So.” Juice motioned his hands around his room in the clubhouse, flashing you a cheesy grin and shrugging. “This is it.” 

You let out a small laugh and smiled back at him. “It’s lovely.” 

His smile grew. “Yeah?” He placed your bag on the floor by the bed. “I always thought it could use a woman’s touch.”

You bit your lip, trying to hide your smile. Something about Juice made you feel like you were back in elementary school, crushing on the cutest boy in homeroom. Except now, you were a grown woman crushing on a biker with a faux hawk and scalp tattoos. You were sure Juice wasn’t interested in you, at least not in that way. The rest of the guys had always treated you like a little sister. You assumed Juice felt the same way.

“So,” you glanced around the room. “I’m sleeping in here?” 

Juice nodded his head. 

“Where will you be?” 

“Oh, uh,” Juice motioned to the door. “I’ll crash on one of the couches or something.” 

“You could stay in here,” you suggested, biting your lip. “With me.” 

He raised his eyebrows, and his mouth opened in surprise. “Oh. Uh - “

You felt your cheeks turn pink and immediately wished you hadn’t said anything. “I just - I meant because I’m still kind of freaked out, and I - “ you paused and shifted your eyes to the floor. “It’s just, I would feel safer if you were in here. With me.” 

You looked up to see Juice smiling at you, a look of pleasant surprise on his face. “Yeah.” He nodded his head. “Sure. I can stay in here.”


You woke up the next morning with a sugar hangover and an arm thrown lazily across your waist. You rolled over to see Juice asleep beside you, his head buried in a pillow.

You and Juice had sat on the floor in front of the bed all night watching movies. The two of you had talked and joked around for hours. You had laughed so hard, your stomach ached. The more you talked with him, the more you realized you had in common with him. You felt yourself falling for Juice. You had always thought he was cute, but now you felt yourself making this new connection with him. And he felt it too. He had been watching you all night, though you hadn’t noticed. He felt himself falling for you, and he knew he was going to fall hard. He knew he could love you, if you ever gave him the chance. He hoped you would give him a chance.

You thought of the ridiculous grins plastered on both of your faces for the entire night. You hadn’t stopped smiling from the moment you talked Juice into staying with you. Your cheeks still ached in the happiest way, and you loved it. 

You felt your heart flutter as you remembered how Juice had shifted his position on the floor and scooted himself closer to you. You had pretended not to notice and tried to hide your smile, but you knew he could still see the happiness twinkling in your eyes. Juice had reached out suddenly and grabbed your hand, taking you totally by surprise. He had turned to look at you and grinned. You remembered how gently he had squeezed your hand. When you asked him why he grabbed your hand, he shrugged and answered “just because”.

Juice snored softly beside you, bringing you out of your thoughts and back to the present. You watched him sleep for a few moments. He looked so peaceful and innocent. You smiled lovingly and leaned down to place a kiss on top of his head. 

He let out a deep, muffled sigh and wrapped both arms around you, pulling you closer to him. “Good morning,” he mumbled sleepily. He lifted his head from the pillow and smiled at you before placing a soft kiss on your lips. You melted into him and snuggled closer, sighing in content. This felt like the beginning of something really great.