#soa headcanons

[brunettemarionette]

𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮

☾‧₊˚ ⋅ ― female reader. no description of features. no mentions of size, race or age.

🇲​​🇦​​🇮​​🇳​ ​🇲​​🇦​​🇸​​🇹​​🇪​​🇷​​🇱​​🇮​​🇸​​🇹​ 💜​🇸​​🇴​​🇦​ ​🇲​​🇦​​🇸​​🇹​​🇪​​🇷​​🇱​​🇮​​🇸​​🇹​

𝗝𝗮𝘅 ☾‧₊˚ ⋅

Jax spots the guy leaning in too close to you, spouting off some pathetic attempt at a pickup line while tossing in a jab about “wannabe biker boys.” His lips twitch into a deadly smirk as he struts over, confidence oozing with every step.

“Hey, babe,” he says smoothly, wrapping an arm around your waist, his icy blue eyes locking on the clueless idiot. “This clown bothering you?”

When the guy stammers, Jax leans in, his voice dropping low. “Y’know, I’d think twice before badmouthing my club. Especially when I’m the President. But since you didn’t know…” He gives a sharp, humourless laugh. “You’ve got about three seconds to walk away before this gets messy.”

The guy practically trips over himself as he scurries off, and Jax turns back to you, flashing that charming grin. “You alright, darlin’? Let’s get outta here.”

𝗥𝗲𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼����𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗽 𝗧𝗿𝗼𝗽𝗲𝘀:

Aggressively Supportive & Protective

𝗖𝗵𝗶𝗯𝘀 ☾‧₊˚ ⋅

Chibs doesn’t even bother hiding the cold steel in his gaze as he hears the man flirt with you, his Scottish accent turning sharp as glass when he interrupts.

“Yer sure talkin’ a big game for someone who doesn’t know whose girl he’s chattin’ up,” Chibs drawls, stepping between you and the idiot.

The guy scoffs, mentioning something about “bikers and daddy issues,” and that’s all it takes for Chibs’ deadly smirk to surface. “Aye, that’s cute. Now, I’ve got a wee bit of advice for ye: you leave now, or I’ll give ya somethin’ to cry about.”

The guy falters at the glint in Chibs’ eyes, backing off immediately. Once he’s gone, Chibs tilts his head toward you, his voice softening. “You good, love? Let’s grab a drink.”

𝗥𝗲𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗽 𝗧𝗿𝗼𝗽𝗲𝘀:

Snarky Power Couple That Can, And Probably Will, Destroy You

𝗧𝗶𝗴  ☾‧₊˚ ⋅

Tig hears the guy’s comment about how “guys in leather are overcompensating” and loses it. He storms over, practically buzzing with energy, his wild eyes daring the guy to say another word.

“Excuse me? You got somethin’ to say about me, buddy?��� Tig growls, his tone loud enough to make everyone turn and stare.

The guy freezes, trying to laugh it off, but Tig’s already in his face, pointing at you. “You see her? She’s with me. Me. So if you’re gonna keep running your mouth, you’d better hope you’re faster than I am. Spoiler alert: you’re not.”

The guy stammers out an apology and bolts, leaving Tig to turn back to you with a grin. “See that? Chased him off. No one messes with my girl.”

𝗥𝗲𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗽 𝗧𝗿𝗼𝗽𝗲𝘀:

Thinks They're In Charge (Tig) x Is Actually In Charge (You)

𝗢𝗽𝗶𝗲 ☾‧₊˚ ⋅

Opie hears the guy call SAMCRO a “bunch of thugs” while shamelessly flirting with you. He clenches his fists, his jaw ticking as he approaches. He towers over the guy, his deep voice calm but dangerous.

“Got a problem with my club?” Opie asks, his sheer size and quiet intensity enough to make the guy gulp.

When the man stutters, Opie steps closer, his eyes like granite. “And you think hitting on my girl is a good idea? You’re either real stupid or looking for trouble.”

The guy quickly backpedals, muttering apologies as he slinks away. Opie watches him go, then turns to you with a small smile. “You alright? Let’s head out before I change my mind about letting him walk away.”

𝗥𝗲𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗽 𝗧𝗿𝗼𝗽𝗲𝘀:

Home Is Wherever You Are

𝗛𝗮𝗽𝗽𝘆 ☾‧₊˚ ⋅

Happy doesn’t need to say much. The second he hears the guy say something about “bikers being all talk,” he strides over silently, his expression as unreadable as ever.

He steps between you and the guy, looking him up and down with cold, assessing eyes. “You like your teeth where they are?” Happy asks, his voice low and gravelly.

The guy blinks, confused, but the pure menace radiating off Happy is enough to make him reconsider whatever dumb thing he was about to say. “N-no problem, man. I was just leaving.”

Happy watches him go, then turns to you with a rare smirk. “You good? Let’s go.”

𝗥𝗲𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗽 𝗧𝗿𝗼𝗽𝗲𝘀:

Unaware in public (you) x Overprotective in public (Happy)

𝗝𝘂𝗶𝗰𝗲 ☾‧₊˚ ⋅

Juice hears the guy call SAMCRO a “bunch of wannabes” while trying to charm you, and he immediately stiffens. He’s not the most intimidating at first glance, but the second he speaks, his tone is sharp.

“You might wanna rethink what you’re saying,” Juice says, stepping up beside you, his eyes narrowing. “That ‘wannabe’ club? That’s my family.”

The guy laughs nervously, trying to brush it off, but Juice isn’t backing down. “And her?” He points at you. “She’s my girl. So why don’t you take your crappy lines somewhere else before I make you regret opening your mouth?”

The guy stumbles over an apology before fleeing, and Juice exhales, turning back to you. “You okay? Let’s get out of here before I really lose it.”

𝗥𝗲𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗽 𝗧𝗿𝗼𝗽𝗲𝘀:

You Fell First, But He Fell Harder

𝗧𝗵𝗲𝗺𝗲 𝗦𝗼𝗻𝗴

Bad Company by Five Finger Death Punch

[ravennaortiz]

Your Boyfriend is a Bitch headcanon SOA version

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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[secretlysamcro]

Hey :) I need to know what it would be like having a friends with benefits relationship with jax. Maybe he falls when he knows he shouldn’t

Jax is needy as hell when it comes to you and the arrangement you have. He doesn’t even try to hide it, any inconvenience in his day, any stress any little thing that throws him off? He knows exactly where to go. Jax could have any women he wanted, any of the crow eaters, any of the porn girls, but since meeting and sleeping with you? You’ve become the one constant thing. Whether it’s your mind, your heart or your pussy, he craves comfort that only you can give.

Those little moment after sex, Jax talks more than he means to. Not just small talk or lazy compliments, the real fucking shit. The kind of stuff that’s supposed to stay behind closed doors at the table. He knows he shouldn’t, he knows the rules, and the weight they carry. But you’ve got this way about you that just makes it all feel safe, like his words can stay with you and go no further.

Whether it’s sitting on your couch, talking low while his head rests on your chest, or laying next to you after he just finished putting you through the fucking mattress. He trusts you with it, maybe more than he should. There are however, some things he would NEVER tell you. Not because he doesn’t trust you, but because he respects you too much to give you any information that could make you a liability.

When it comes to the actual sex, Jax is everything. He doesn’t just stick to one way. It all depends on his mood, most of the time though, it’s rough. Real fucking rough. Full of teeth, bruising grips and low growls against your neck like he’s trying to fuck the anger out of himself. Jax’s favourite position? doggy, but flat doggy. Your face down, chest against the bed and the arch of your back just fucking right. He grips at your waist like it’s the only thing holding him together. His hands sliding further down your body the deeper he tries to go, like he’s trying to crawl inside of you. Your muffled moans and the wet sound of your pussy taking every hard thrust drives him absolutely insane. And those special nights you let him cum inside? That’s his fucking weakness. He stays buried deep, grinding into you. His fingers digging into your flesh like he’s scared you’ll disappear if he lets go. His cock throbs, veins thick and swollen as he spills every last drop inside you. And when he finally drags himself out, it’s so fucking slow, pulling out the mess he just made, dripping down between your thighs while he watches like it’s a fucking masterpiece.

But, it was supposed to be simple. Just sex, no feelings. That’s what you both agreed on. Something easy in his world full of chaos. But somewhere along the line, everything begins to blur. Jax doing what he swore he wouldn’t. He started falling for you.

Quietly. Deeply. Jealously.

And when he realises he’s gone too far, he does what Tellers do best. He shut the fuck down. Pushed you away like it meant nothing, like you meant nothing. Because this, wasn’t supposed to happen. He wasn’t supposed to bite his tongue every time ‘I love you’ nearly slipped out, whilst inside of you. So now? When the stress gets too much, the weight of all the outside influences crushing down on him, he doesn’t come to you anymore. He finds some random girl at the clubhouse. Let’s her ride him. Moans in her ear. Closes his eyes and pretends it’s you. Not because he doesn’t want you, because he does.

But loving you was never part of the fucking plan.

xoxo secretly samcro

[pileofboneswrites]

TAILSPIN.

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

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

WORD COUNT — 3.8k

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

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

MASTERLIST | SONS OF ANARCHY

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"alright, now, tell me."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"well, i wouldn't say that—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[hotdamnhunnam]

Alright. What do you think Jax favorite sex position is? In the show we mostly saw missionary but I refuse to believe that he is „boring“ 😂🫢😏

Okay okay okayyy so HEAR ME OUT on this lol but I actually think missionary IS his favorite!!! 😂

Not because he’s boring or vanilla as we all know he’s the opposite, an infinitely kinky piece of shit — rather because he makes missionary his bitch and damn does he know how to savor it 😈

🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

I mean, let’s imagine the scene:

Jax loves the way he gets to witness every perfect look of pleasure on your face … to suck the moans out of your mouth ‘cause fuck he gets off on how sweet your slutty desperation tastes …

… to feel your tits so closely pressed against the muscles of his chest … so close he even feels the pounding of your heart in sync with his and knowing that it beats for him alone is just the fucking best …

… to wrap his hand around your throat and make you gasp for breath, each kiss he claims off of your lips a holy prayer and the only air you need because you love this man to death …

🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

So yeah I think he really digs being on top of you, and making sure that every inch of you gets crushed beneath the full weight of the body and the soul of the sex god who fucking loves you!! ❣️

He’d also love spitting repeatedly into your filthy greedy little mouth if that’s something you’d want him to do 💦🤤

With all that said I do think Jax has some close second/third/fourth fave positions too:

Up against the wall, like when he comes home from a long hard day and has no fucking patience to get to the bedroom at all

Doggy while yanking your hair back and spanking your ass because although he is a god he is also a raging primal animal

Cowgirl because he loves that view of you and because he is an asshole who gets off on topping from the bottom to prove to you that he will always be in full fucking control

Thank you for the ask ahhhh this was so much fun to answer lol 😋💖

[futurecorps3]

angel:(

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐬’ 𝐩𝐞𝐭 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮

⤷ female, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!  

a/n: lil short one <3

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ

Keep reading

[justanoasisimagines]

Protective Headcanons

Hey lovelies, my requests are open and my guidlines can be found pinned at the top of the page! Credit to cafekitsune for the banner and the divider!

❀Jax knows from the moment he brings you into his world you're life's at risk. It's why Jax is considering doing it in the first place. ❀Jax teaches you how to protect yourself, if he's not there he wants you to know how to fight. ❀Jax insists there are weapons in your house. Baseball bats, guns, knives, Jax strategically places them around your house in case anyone were to surprise you. ❀Jax makes sure you have Gemma's number. He wants you to have her numbers in case of an emergency. ❀He asks Gemma to check up on you whenever he's away. He worries about you. Also Gemma's accustomed to situations in which her life could be in danger. ❀Jax making sure you're home has the best security system possible. He wants you to feel safe and secure when you're alone. ❀If Jax is in any doubt. he'll make you stay at the clubhouse. It's a safe place and he knows the club will look out for you.

❀Jax buying you a motorcycle helmet. So you can ride his motorcycle safely.

❀Jax is ready to drop everything to protect you. He'll always put things aside. Jax would fight to the death to protect you. You're one of the most important people in his life.

[tinyshyteacup]

Tw: cussing, descriptive injuries, injuries, angst, this is very dark

Part 30

A Charming Detour - Part 31

Your bedroom was quiet. The world outside was chaos—SAMCRO talking plans, engines cooling, war brewing—but in here, it was almost calm.

Almost.

You stood in front of the mirror, still wearing Juice’s hoodie. Your hands moved with steady precision as you unzipped the duffle bag you'd hidden beneath the bed. Inside, wrapped in layers of old flannel and plastic, was a box—wooden, heavy, worn with age.

You opened it with a quiet click.

Blades.

Three in total—two small knives and one curved karambit.

Your hands shook, just a little, as you strapped the first to your ankle. The second tucked into your waistband, snug against your lower back. The motion was muscle memory—painful, buried muscle memory.

Chibs was the first to spot you as he walked past the half-open door.

He froze.

“Lass?”

You didn’t look at him. Just pulled up one pant leg and double-checked the strap.

Tig came in next, wide-eyed, followed by Bobby and Jax.

You finally looked up from the last blade and met their stunned silence in the mirror.

“What the fuck…” Tig breathed. “Where’d you get those?”

You stood slowly, the weight of the knives unfamiliar but welcome after so long. “They were mine. From before.”

Chibs took a cautious step closer, eyes scanning you like he was seeing someone new. “Before what?”

You swallowed.

Hard.

“Before Charming. Before Juice. Before I figured out what it felt like to be safe.”

They didn’t speak. Not right away. Just stared as you peeled off Juice’s hoodie and replaced it with a fitted black thermal, tucking the last blade into your sleeve.

Then Jax spoke, voice low. “Darlin', talk to us.”

You sighed, pulling your hair back, tying it tight. “I ran from New Zealand to escape my family.”

Tig blinked. “Wait—what ?.”

You met his eyes now, no tears, no softness.

Happy, leaning in the doorway, gave you a rare, searching look.

“They were supremacists,” you said finally, voice calm. “Not the loud kind. The organized kind. Uniforms, rules, punishments. I grew up with men like Zobelle."

Chibs looked like someone had kicked the air out of him. “Jesus Christ…”

You nodded once. “I ran after I said no. After I refused to marry who they picked for me. After I stopped reciting their dogma. I stole the knives and ran. Ended up here. Thought… maybe I could finally breathe.”

You glanced down at your hands. They weren’t shaking anymore.

Jax exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

You sighed. “Because I liked being just some girl. Juan—Juice… he made me feel like I could be me again. Really be just me. Like I didn’t have to be some scared kid with a blade under her pillow.”

Bobby muttered, “Damn, girl”

You looked up at him, eyes flat. “They took him. I know what those men are capable of. You don’t understand—” You swallowed hard, breath catching. “They will break him. Just for the 'fun' of it”

That’s when Happy stepped forward and handed you a gun.

He didn’t say anything. Just gave you a quiet nod.

And it was enough.

Before you turned to leave the room, you reached for Juice’s hoodie and pulled it back over your head. It hung off your shoulders like armor made of memory.

Soft and warm. Like him.

You could still smell his cologne on the collar.

You let yourself close your eyes for just one second.

“Hold on Juan,” you whispered to the empty air. “we're coming.”

It’s Happy who kicked in the door.

The air inside the abandoned warehouse stank of rust and oil. Light flickered from a single cracked fixture overhead, casting long, broken shadows across the concrete.

It's quiet, too quiet— your stomach churns violently.

You’re behind Jax and Chibs, heart in your throat, the cold steel of a knife strapped to your ankle grounding you with every step.

There’s a smear of blood on the floor.

A trail.

Something, someone was dragged.

Your breath hitches.

Where are they ?

They'd only leave if — No no you can't think like that.

You won't.

“Back there,” Bobby mutters, pointing.

And then you see him.

Your boots echoed as you ran ahead of the others, your heart pounding so loud it drowned out the sound of the SAMCRO men behind you.

You knew he was here. You felt him.

And when you saw him—

Everything stopped.

Juice’s face was nearly unrecognizable—his right eye swollen shut, his cheek split and bruised in shades of angry purple and deep, spreading crimson. Dried blood trailed from his nose, his lip, and a gash along his eyebrow.

One shoulder rested awkwardly, likely dislocated.

His white T-shirt, the one you'd curled up on only nights beforehand was soaked through with sweat and streaked with blood—his own.

There were cigarette burns on his arms and his hands were raw.

You didn’t even realize you were crying.

“Juice—” your voice cracked, “baby, please. Please wake up. Look at me, just look at me, okay?”

You frantically brushed the blood away from his lips, from his eyebrow. Your fingers trembled as you tried to find the soft spots on his skin that weren’t broken.

The room blurred around you.

“You’re okay,” you whispered, rocking forward until your forehead pressed gently to his. “You’re okay, I’m here, I’m right here. We'll Just … stay here ... ok Juan ... you'll wake up and it'll all be ok, Juice .... c'mon Juice.”

You grabbed his hands, squeezing gently. “Come on, Juan. Come back to me.”

Behind you, there was a stillness. The kind that only happens before something deadly.

Tig swore softly under his breath.

Chibs looked sick, his hands fisting by his sides.

Jax stood dead silent, his jaw locked so tight it looked like it might snap.

Even Happy’s eyes flashed, his breathing sharp and controlled like a wolf ready to bite through steel.

"We're the fuck are they,” Jax growled.

You kissed the side of Juice's face, your tears making trails down his face. “You did, so well Juan. Your so strong, but you gotta come back now. You're safe. It’s okay now. I’ve got you."

Shadows cling to the edges of rusted metal walls like the ghosts of every terrible thing that’s ever happened there. The air stinks of sweat, blood, oil, and something else that churns your stomach—fear.

You barely notice the cold creeping into you from the blood-streaked floor, your eyes are still locked on Juice.

Your Juice.

Your husband.

He’s crumpled, like someone just tossed him there after tearing him apart.

Sleeves of his hoodie shredded and soaked in blood. Blood runs from the split over his eye, trailing down the side of his face.

The outline of bruises already forming, painting his skin with angry hues of violet and black, almost mock you from there home on his skin.

You rock him gently like he's made of glass. “Juan—C'mon Juan, please—” you whisper, hands trembling as they hover over his chest, not sure where you can touch without hurting him more. “Juice, it’s me—it’s me, you’re okay now. I’m here.”

You press your fingers to his neck, feel the soft thump of his pulse—weak, but steady. It’s enough to crack the panic just slightly, but the sight of his bruised face makes your breath hitch.

Your voice cracking as you rock him gently back and forth like you’re trying to will him back into the world. “Please wake up, Juice. Please. You’re okay. You’re okay. I’m gonna get you out of here, okay?”

His body feels too heavy, too limp. A deep, helpless sob catches in your throat. Your frame shakes as you curl around him protectively, shielding him like you could somehow absorb some of the pain.

“Remember the diner?” you whisper to him, voice breaking. “You'd take me there, three days a week for lunch, said you like that the booth felt like our own little world. You laughed at me for adding six sugars to my tea. You called me baby and kissed my cheek before the waitress could see.” You sniffle. “You have to come back to me, Juice. Please, I love you so much. Please.”

You feel SAMCRO closing in behind you, someone’s heavy boots echoing against the concrete as they rush to your side. You don’t even look up.

“Don’t touch him!” your voice cracks and breaks into a sob.

You’re still trying to rocking him, trying to hold his broken body. Your hand strokes through his blood-matted fauxhawk, trembling.

“He needs to wake up. I need him to wake up. I didn’t get to say goodbye…”

You kiss his forehead softly, blood sticking to your lips. “I love you, Juan. Come back. Come back, please .”

Juice lies crumpled on the cold, stained concrete floor, the faint flicker of a flickering overhead light casting shifting shadows across his body.

His skin is pale—much too pale—and mottled with bruises, his once expressive face now swollen on one side, dried blood crusted along his jaw.

One of his eyes is nearly swollen shut, lashes sticky with red, and his lips are cracked, one split so badly it trembles slightly with each shallow breath.

You feel like you can’t even cry anymore—your body’s too numb. Your hands hover for a few seconds each time you shift to touch somewhere new.

His knuckles are scraped raw. Someone made him fight. Or maybe he just refused not to.

“Juan …” your voice cracks as you lean in, pressing your forehead to his. “Juan, Juan Carlos, please…” You slide a hand gently along the unbruised portion of his face.

Your thumb trembles as it brushes over the ridge of his cheekbone. “You gotta wake up. You’re really scaring me…”

His body doesn’t react—not a flinch, not a wince. It feels wrong, too still.

Juice's bright, happy face is now slack and swollen.

You scoot closer still, arms trying to gather him up even though he’s far too heavy for you to manage.

His blood smears across your hands, warm and sticky, and your breath catches again.

You shake your head, eyes burning. “I can’t lift you, Juice… I—I’m sorry. I can’t…” Your voice trails off into a broken whisper.

"Lass, C'mon we got tae—" Chibs cuts in gently.

"No" You murmur not bothering to look up.

"Doll" Tig crouches beside you "We need to—"

"Call an ambulance Tig" You whisper

"We can't take hi—" Jax begins

"You can and you will or I'll end you myself Jackson" You snap voice sharp with unspoken rage.

Not for them not really, but the suggestion that your husband didn't deserve treatment felt worse then twisting your own karambit into your gut.

You couldn't face the idea of him not getting better, there had to be a way, Juice made you believe in the impossible, so now you had to believe in him.

You barely registered Happy’s voice as he spoke into the phone to emergency services.

You carefully lay down in front of Juice, curling yourself into his front, chest to chest, pressing your body gently against his.

You rock him as best you can, hands stroking over his sticky, sweat-dampened scalp.

“You’re not alone, okay? I’m here. I’m here, Juan. I’m not going anywhere.”

He’s so cold.

You start to hum, softly—your voice cracking on the first few notes, then steadying. “You are my sunshine… my only sunshine…”

The song is barely more than a breath, the notes trembling in the silence of the warehouse they left him in.

“You make me happy… when skies are grey…” You press your cheek against his collarbone, lips brushing the base of his throat.

Your fingers trace over the reaper tattoo on his forearm, it’s marred with purple and blue bruises. “Please come back to me,” you whisper, your fingers lacing through his, gently squeezing. “Please.”

As you continue to run your fingers featherlight over him, your humming continues, each note straining with pain and love, hoping something — anything — reaches him.

“You’ll never know dear… how much I love you…”

Your voice falls to a near-silent murmur.

“Please don’t take… my sunshine away.”

[garbinge]

JUICE + SHY GN!READER HEADCANON

First ever headcanon, and this really pushed me out of my comfort zone! Juice is a character that I'm still learning and shy characters are always a little tough for me in these universes. Honestly would love anyone else to drop in any additional thoughts because this one really got me thinking through so many scenarios on how things would play out with these two :) Headcanon is under the cut!

FIRST MEETING: 

Juice isn’t exactly the most outspoken or outgoing either, so the process from meeting you to dating you takes time. Slow burn for suuuuuure. 

I think it’d start out with Juice being more shy than the reader for sure but your shyness is what draws him to you. You’re also not exactly jumping out of your seat to talk to him either, but to you, you’re just ignoring him while Juice is being shy to you. 

You’re the opposite of his life right now. The club is rowdy and chaotic and you were calm and observant. 

There’s tons of stolen glances whenever he gets the chance when you’re around. His eyes jump away in seconds the minute you catch him looking at you. Whether it’s peeking over his laptop, or fully staring at you when he catches you downtown. 

Those glances would eventually turn to awkward smiles, the occasional wave or head nod.

When he gets the nerve to actually come and talk to you, there’s a lot of fumbling on his words until he realizes you’re just as nervous as him and it somehow makes him feel a little less nervous.

Just enough that in some fiddly way he manages to ask you out and you agree. 

The first date is a lot of him asking you questions because you’re still very reserved. A lot of what are your favorite things; food, movies, places to go, where  do you work, do you like it. Just trying to learn more about you.

He goes off on a lot of tangents about tech, it’s what he knows and loves so it just comes easy to him. You take it all in, every word, picking up on the details in what he’s saying and what he’s not. 

You definitely bring things up that he’s said earlier and it drives him mad. Someone who pays attention to the things he’s saying? That’s new. 

Somewhere along the conversation you mentioned something about your car and he eagerly offered to fix it for you at TM which ultimately solidified your second date. 

It’s obvious you’re a fish out of water at Teller-Morrow. Your voice is comparable to a mouse in comparison to all the guys, club and mechanics combined. 

While trying to explain to Chucky and then Piney that one of the guys said they could help you out, Juice appears with the biggest grin on his face when he sees you and offers you an energetic “hey” and it completely melts you. 

You sit next to him while he tinkers with your car, him mostly taking up a lot of the conversation but you’re chiming in here or there a little bit more than on the first date. Everything around you kind of fades away in those moments, you’re just enjoying the time passing with Juice. 

When you get home that night, you break something else on your car, purposely, so you can bring it back the next day. Too nervous to just ask him to hang out on your own. 

After he catches on, you’ve brought your car in 3 times in one week,  he decides to blurt it out. Do you wanna be my girlfriend? And he’s immediately mortified by the prepubescent way of asking you to be his but in your eyes it's perfect. It’s direct and leaves no room for misinterpretation. BEGINNING OF YOUR RELATIONSHIP: 

Then, things are a bit different once your relationship is a bit more established. You both geek out together, and you feel a bit more comfortable coming out of your shell around him. 

He definitely becomes protective over you, knowing how fragile he can be because of his sensitive side and how people are eager to take advantage of that, the thought that someone could be like that with you makes him want to follow you around like a guard dog.��

He's constantly stare at you, lovingly + adoring but also curiously, just picking up on the things you do and why. But now, instead of looking away when you catch his eyes, he just smiles, maybe lightly touches your face, places a soft kiss on your lips, still smiling through each interaction.

But the real kicker is when he tells you he wants you to come hang out at the clubhouse and meet the guys. 

Now, he’s not an idiot, he knows that they can be a lot and you aren’t a very extroverted person, but he reassures you a lot that they’ll love you and you’ll have a good time. He also lets you know he’d never let anything happen to you. And once the guys meet you, neither will they.

When you show up, you’re feeling exactly how you felt when you first met Juice. Flighty eyes, absorbing the environment, taking in everything. 

The commotion of the group by the pool table and then the group by the bar was starting to make your stomach turn. 

Juice spots you immediately and is by your side within seconds and never leaves it. One, because he wants to keep his word of being there and two, he feels so happy just to have you here with his family. 

The guys tease Juice more than they tease you, and when anyone gets a little too pushy before you’re able to even feel uncomfortable Juice is handling it. 

OVER TIME: 

I think he’d be able to anticipate your needs and vice versa. 

When he comes home from a rough day, you’re there to pick up the pieces and he lets you. 

There’s toons of physical affection behind closed doors. Cuddling, all types of kisses, very sweet and passionate love. 

In public and in front of the club, it’s not as prominent but there’s definitely arms wrapped around you, sitting in between his legs, casual pecks on the cheek and fingers intertwined. 

He’d also trust your opinion on things because when you are at the clubhouse you’re not looking to fuck-around. You’re taking in everything and it gives you a really unique perspective on situations. 

He’d take you on so many long rides and road trips because he knows the quiet of the rides are your favorite.

He’d leave breakfast for you when he had early mornings and you’d leave dinner for him on those late night runs. 

Juice would use his skills to make your life easier, just like when you first met. Fixing your car, your computer, making sure you were upgrading all your software, getting you things that you didn’t even realized existed that just made every aspect of your life easier. 

Ultimately, I think a shy partner is exactly what Juice needs, someone who understands him, and is patient with him. They both would be able to respect and love each other because they see each other. There's so much understanding because they get one another, their quirks, their preferences, their mannerisms.

Dividers by @cafekitsune ❤ // Requested by anon ❤ 💀SOA Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics @kmc1989  (Let me know if you’d like to be added!)

[brunettemarionette]

hello :) could i ask for headcanons (separate) for how the guys from SOA (anyone you want :) i was thinking about Jax Juice Tig and Chibs but feel free to add or remove) would react to reader sketching them as they work on cars and bikes? i picture like darling reader working at the TM reception, no client is there and she really wants to practice her drawing skills so she just starts sketching the closest guy she can see? and maybe the guy notices or maybe sees the sketch in some way :) bonus point if said guy has a crush on her heheh thanks :)

𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦

☾‧₊˚ ⋅ ― female reader. no description of features. no mentions of size, race or age.

🇲​​🇦​​🇮​​🇳​ ​🇲​​🇦​​🇸​​🇹​​🇪​​🇷​​🇱​​🇮​​🇸​​🇹​ 💜​🇸​​🇴​​🇦​ ​🇲​​🇦​​🇸​​🇹​​🇪​​🇷​​🇱​​🇮​​🇸​​🇹​

𝗝𝗮𝘅 ☾‧₊˚ ⋅

At first, he doesn't notice. He's too busy working on a Dyna, hands covered in grease, muscles flexing under the shop lights. You're sitting at the reception desk, sketchbook in hand, quietly focused.

He finally catches on when he comes up to grab a beer from the mini-fridge near your desk. As he leans over to snag one, his eyes drift to your sketchpad, and he sees a detailed rendering of him—brows furrowed in concentration, wrench in hand, looking effortlessly cool.

A cocky smirk spreads across his face. "Damn, darlin'. You been staring at me that hard?" His tone is teasing, but there's a definite glint of interest in his eyes.

He picks up the sketchbook, studying the drawing closely. "Shit, you're really good. Got me looking like some biker model."

Totally milks it. "If you wanted a close-up, all you had to do was ask," he adds with a wink.

He keeps bringing it up. Whenever you have a pencil in your hand, he jokes about "posing" for you—flexing a little harder when he knows you're watching.

If he's got a thing for you, he low-key asks Chibs or Opie if he should ask you out. And then he starts paying way more attention to how he looks when he works, knowing you might be sketching again.

𝗖𝗵𝗶𝗯𝘀 ☾‧₊˚ ⋅

Doesn't notice at first because he's deep in concentration. He's fixing up an old Harley, cigarette between his lips, brows furrowed. You think he looks perfect like this, so you start sketching.

Eventually, he glances up and catches you staring. He raises an eyebrow, smirking. "What are ye up to over there, lass?"

You try to hide the sketchbook, but it's too late. He walks over, wiping his hands on a rag, and gently pulls it from your grip.

His reaction? Pure admiration. "This is… bloody hell, lass. This is fantastic." He runs a finger over the page like he's afraid to smudge it.

Super touched that you chose him as your subject. "Didn't know I was a muse, but I like it."

If he has feelings for you, this moment cements them. There's something about seeing himself through your art that makes his heart clench.

"You should keep drawing me," he murmurs, giving you a look. "I like the way ye see me."

𝗧𝗶𝗴  ☾‧₊˚ ⋅

The moment he sees the sketch, he is dramatic.

"Oh my God, you're obsessed with me," he gasps, clutching his chest like he's been hit with an arrow. "I knew it."

Absolutely hams it up. Starts posing ridiculously, one foot up on a stool, chin tilted like he's in a Vogue photoshoot. "Here, get my good side."

Then he actually takes a proper look at the drawing… and he's shocked. It's not just some casual doodle—there's real detail, effort, and skill.

"Jesus Christ, doll… this is amazing." His voice drops an octave, suddenly more serious. He stares at the way you captured his expression, the way the shadows hit his face.

A rare moment of sincerity from Tig. He might joke around a lot, but seeing himself through your eyes—your eyes—hits different.

If he has a crush on you, this boosts his ego so much. He'll start showing off even more when working, flexing when he turns a wrench, throwing you smirks.

"If you ever wanna sketch me in the nude, just say the word." (He is 100% serious.)

𝗢𝗽𝗶𝗲 ☾‧₊˚ ⋅

Totally oblivious. He's focused on the bike in front of him, forearms flexing as he tightens a bolt. You, meanwhile, are in full-on artist mode.

Jax is actually the one who busts you. He walks by and sees what you're drawing, then loudly says, "Damn, Ope, you got a fan over here."

Opie turns, confused, and sees the sketch. He instantly gets all awkward. Scratches the back of his neck and looks down at his boots.

"You… you drew me?" His voice is quiet, almost unsure.

When he finally looks at the sketch, he's genuinely amazed. "Holy shit. This is really good."

If he has a thing for you, he is dying inside. Like, full internal panic. He already had a crush, and now you're sitting here drawing him like he's some kind of inspiration?

Tries to play it cool but fails. "So, uh… you just… draw people? Or just me?"

Keeps the sketch if you let him. He folds it up carefully and tucks it into his kutte, carrying it with him like a secret.

𝗛𝗮𝗽𝗽𝘆 ☾‧₊˚ ⋅

At first, he doesn't react at all. He's working on a custom bike, laser-focused, barely paying attention to anything else.

You don't even realize he knows until he speaks up. Without looking up, he says, "You been staring at me a long time, girl."

You freeze. The pencil in your hand stops moving. "Uh… I was just—"

He turns his head slightly, catching you in the act. One eyebrow raises. "You drawin' me?"

Happy is not a man of many words, but he's intrigued. He walks over, peers down at your sketch, and lets out a low chuckle.

"Damn. You made me look mean." He actually looks pleased.

If he has a crush, this messes him up. He doesn't get flustered, but he does start watching you more closely after this, noticing how often you glance his way.

Might actually ask you to draw him again. But he'll phrase it casually: "You should do another one sometime."

Later, if you're not around, he'll flip back to the page and just… stare at it. A rare, almost smile on his face.

𝗝𝘂𝗶𝗰𝗲 ☾‧₊˚ ⋅

This man is a blushing mess.

He finds the drawing completely by accident. Maybe you step away for a second, and he happens to glance at your sketchbook lying open on the desk.

He instantly realizes it's him. His eyes go huge.

Panics. "Oh my God. No way. No freaking way."

When you come back and see him staring, he immediately starts babbling. "This is—you—you actually—Holy shit, you made me look cool!"

Cannot handle it. His ears go red, he's grinning like an idiot, and he keeps sneaking glances at you like he's trying to figure out if this means something.

If he has a crush, this just makes it ten times worse. He starts acting even more awkward around you, fidgeting dropping things, but also trying so hard to be smooth.

Low-key asks Chibs and Tig if he should frame it.

[ravennaortiz]

Ravenna!!! Can we get a HC about our Daddies being Daddy doms??

Alright, this got long, I could not help myself! I went with a mix of the guys who I thought would be most likely to dabble with daddy kink. As always my stuff is 18+! NSFW below the cut

Juice- Under that goofy grin and sweet smile is a man who would love you to call him Daddy while your stroking his praise kink. "Your so good Daddy", You're the best Daddy, You're so good at that" will guarantee you have the time of your life. Whispering these in his ear during a crowded club party will guarantee you being quickly escorted to a darkened corner for a lesson. He loves making you cock warm him too and he gets off on finally having some one to give orders to. "Bed", "Knees", "Open wide", "warm me up".

Chibs- The silver fox himself has to be eased into the idea. He was already worried about the age gap as it was and now you are calling him Daddy in public? The mischievous look in your eye and the way your breath hitches as he grabs you jaw telling you to hush in the crowded store though has his jeans getting uncomfortably tight. You were only teasing when you told him maybe you deserved a spanking. Five minutes later he had you over his lap in the dressing room your ass red and already starting to bruise as you apologized. "Sorry daddy for being naughty".

Happy- The Tacoma Killer is not one to play with. He is not amused with your teasing or being a brat. The skills he uses to get info and make people disappear for the club? Yeah he has no problem turning those around on you. He prefers to hear "Yes Sir" over "Yes Daddy". He also has you trained with that damn ever present toothpick. Is it on the left side or right side? Is he chewing it or just letting it sit still? All these have different meanings and tell you how far you have left to push his buttons. Happy pushes the limit and has you craving the danger so much that you just can't help but flirt a little with the prospects when your not getting his attention.

Angel- Pretty Boy Reyes is the king of over stimulation and making you beg for "daddy to stop". He loved the control. So much so that any toys you have go with him or under lock and key when he has to be gone for long times. Because he will be dammed if you cum on anything besides daddy's cock, mouth or fingers, or when he isn't present. You though aren't exactly the best at taking orders or listening so more often than not you end up restrained and with a vibrator on your clit for hours begging and crying for him to stop as he sits in another room watching tv and casually changing the pace on the vibrator. He will just tell you to that you have to learn your lesson.

Coco- He loves hearing you call him daddy. At first he was worried and wierded out by it when you guys were out and about. But the feeling of pride and confidence it built in him had him quickly forgetting how he first felt. The way you guys operate its less punishments and more equal than some of the other guys. When he's buried between your thighs which is his favorite place he loves how easily daddy falls from your lips. Your hands gripping his hair. He's not above bending you over his knee though if you let your mouth get a bit ahead of you though....which you sometimes do just to get him to take you to bed a bit faster.

Gilly- The giant teddy bear of the mayans has a Jekyll and Hyde personality with his daddy side. In public he is gentle with his demands/orders. In private? His military side comes out and it sends a thrill through you. "Present to me, present her, daddy's inspection time" are some of his favorite phrases. Your are more than happy to follow his orders because you know he will leave you with a "present" every time.

Return to Headcanon page

[witchthewriter]

𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐬' 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐩𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞

⤷ female, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!  

Warnings: swears, mention of blood and bruising, also creeps

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ

𝐉𝐀𝐗

・Not surprised, but a tad shocked. He was used to this behaviour from his mother.

・But when he laid his eyes on you, all he could feel was pride.

"How'd the other guy look?"

"Way fuckin' worse, sweetheart," you said with a smirk.

"That's my girl."

・His arm wrapped around you as you left the station, Unser already pulling strings to get you out. Plus, the guy wasn't going to press charges.

・While getting on the back of Jax's bike you said, "You know what, it felt pretty good."

"I know it does babe, but please don't make it a regular thing," he replied and lightly slapped you on your thigh.

"I'll do my best..."

𝐎𝐏𝐈𝐄

・"The hell did that come from?" He asked as you walked through the front door, nursing a very swollen black eye. Apparently punching first doesn't mean you've won the fight.

・"Ugh, would you believe me if I said I ran into a pole?"

"You hate running."

"Fuck, you're right."

・Out of all the guys, he's the most surprised. It took him a while to process it, the story, the lump on your forehead.

・But to him, it meant you accepted this life.

・From his first marriage, Opie was used to having a s/o who was against the club, but with you - you took it in your stride.

・Completely intergrating with it.

・He pulled you onto his lap, cupping your face.

"That's a fucking big one," Opie said, tracing the outline of the bruise.

"I know. But I was the only one left standing."

𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐁𝐒

・Taken aback, mostly upset because you were arrested.

"You're saying my Old Lady, Y/n Telford, was arrested?"

"Yes," Unser said on the other side of the call. He watched you from the door.

Your head was leaning against the cold brick wall. Eyes shut, nose bleeding, but that was the extent of your injuries.

"And may I ask why, she got arrested," Chibs growled.

"She assaulted someone," with Unser's reply, a smile grew on your face.

"She fuckin' what-" then the line went fuzzy and all Unser heard was "I'm coming," before Chibs hung up.

・You weren't worried. Not about being arrested. Because you knew Chibs wouldn't let you stay in here.

・And you were right, because that very afternoon you were released and Chibs grabbed ahold of your face, checking for injuries.

"What were you thinking lass?"

"Oh honey, I wasn't-"

𝐓𝐈𝐆

・Surprised and kinda turned on by it

・It had been pure luck that you weren't arrested. The Sheriffs had been occupied with actual crime ... not a woman punching a creep square in the face.

・However, once Tig came home and saw the swollen, bruised hand of yours, he instantly knew what had happened.

"Look, all I'm gonna say is ... I'm proud of you baby. You put those creeps in their places. But next time, I want a few rounds too."

・You smiled up at him, and went to push yourself up from the couch but grimaced as you used your hand.

"Yeah, it's gonna be a bit tender for a while. Just relax. I'll do whatever you need me to."

・And then he came over and kissed your hand, examining the darkness that was still developing, the splits in the skin.

"Sheesh, you did a good job," Tig mumbled and went to go get your first aid kit.

𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐘

・The PROUDEST.

・The next day he told everyone in the meeting what happened and all the Sons clapped him on the back.

"Happens to all of us," Jax said with a wink.

・Not only was happy, Happy, he was ecstatic. Because it meant you weren't averse to violence...

・Not that he would readily bring it into the home now, it just meant that you didn't find him or his work disgusting.

・He's always worried about that. That one day, you'll just up and leave because this life isn't for you.

・But you know how he feels, and it was part of the reason why you gave that guy a shiner.

・He would've been only a few years older than you, but he wouldn't stop hitting on you. Not even when you told him you weren't single.

・So you thought, "fuck it, my family is a fucking bikie club," and you went for it.

・Explaining that to Happy made him ... kind of emotional.

𝐉𝐔𝐈𝐂𝐄

・Completely shocked.

・Not in a million years did he think you would be in a fight. Or at least a punch up.

・You were quite fiesty, and that's part of the reason why he loved you

・But he never thought that side of you would become physical.

"Babe, why?" Juice asked over his bowl. He had made dinner that night, wanting to do something.

"The fucker kept on staring at me. Even after I told him to knock it off, twice."

"Oh, he had it coming then."

・A part of him was upset that you had to defend yourself. He always wants to be the one to do that.

[secretlysamcro]

what’re some of your favorite jax headcanons??

❣ Jax Teller, Pizza & a screen.

It's rare, but Jax loves a night where he has nothing to do. Pizza, you & Netflix, it’s all he fucking needs. He LOVES a horror film too. Not any of those new, everything's a joke horror films, I'm talking old school horror. The exorcist, Poltergeist, Childs play, and that's just to list a few of his favourites. When his boys are around though...That horror shit goes straight out the window. No blood, no demons. Just whatever cartoons they're obsessed with that week blaring through the speakers. And he's right there on the couch with them, laughing along like it's the funniest shit he's ever seen. Tossing popcorn into his mouth, ruffling their hair, doing silly voices, making sure everything is okay.

And when the house is quiet again...When the boys are passed out, tucked in tight and safe in their beds, that's when the mood changes. The glances lasting a little longer. The touches becoming more desperate. Hands brushing hips for no reason, lips against your neck just because. The Netflix screen goes still, flashing that "Are you still watching?" message. And no. You're not. Because Jax is face down deep between your thighs, arms locked around your legs, and the only thing he's watching is your pretty pussy.

❣ Jax Teller & the views of Charming.

Jax loves being on the road. Whether its on his Dyna or in the SUV. He lives for the freedom, the movement, the quite in his head that only a long stretch of road can provide. But one thing a lot of people don't know about him? He loves a night time drive.

I'm talking middle of the night, spontaneous as fuck "Gemma's got the boys...come on darlin" whispered to you as he gently shakes your leg, convincing you to throw on your Uggs and climb into the car with him, still in your pyjamas, messy hair and no makeup.

He'll drive like he has all the time in the world. Windows cracked, one hand on the wheel, the other on your thigh. No music sometimes, but if there is, it will probably be something like 'Psycho Killer by Talking heads', playing low in the background. He takes you to his favorite hidden spots in town, the ones with the best views. Places where the streetlights below look like tiny specks of glitter, scattered across the darkness. And those nights where he's feeling reckless? You'll know it before he even says a word. Just the way he grips the wheel a little tighter, his jaw clenched and that familiar heat in his eyes when he looks your way. Parked somewhere quiet, tucked away from the rest of the world, he'll lean over to you and murmur "Come on sweetheart...gimme a lil head" like its nothing, like he's starving.

And those nights he's really worked up, forget the front seat, he's pulling you into the back, or bending you over the hood, whatever he can get away with. Doesn't care where, doesn't care how. As long as he's having you. As long as he's fucking you hard enough that those little town lights outside start to blur and distort. The glittering little flecks stretching into long trembling light streaks.

❣ Jax Teller & the man flu.

Jax Teller, the man who has and will kill in cold blood. The one who would do ANYTHING to protect his family and his brothers. The same man who treats actual gunfights like a chess match. Catch him with a cold? Yeah...absolute fucking baby. Jax with a cold is fucking insufferable, but in the most adorable way.

One blocked nostril and suddenly he's acting like he's been shot in the chest, And he does that disgusting thing too. That horrible fucking noise he makes when he's trying to itch his throat from the inside.

And when he's feeling like this...he doesn't want to be left alone. He'll follow you from room to room, slumping dramatically on the bed, the floor, the coach. Anywhere like he's clinging to life, complimented with a soppy "Stop leavin' me darlin' I cant breathe".

He's fucking needy when he's sick. Like 'Touch starved' is his actual diagnosis. Clingy and constantly reaching for you, He falls asleep with his head on your chest, your hand in his hair or your leg slung over his like your shielding him from death itself, and god forbid you move, he'll groan like you just unplugged his fucking life support.

And still, he'll fucking try it. "Jax! no! I don't wanna catch anything!" you'll swat him away playfully as he pouts like a child, dramatic as fuck muttering something along the lines of "Really y/n? I'm on my deathbed and I can't even get a lil somethin'?"

❣ Jax Teller & your spicy book reaction.

Jax knows you love to read. You've always got your head in a book, eyes glued to your kindle, whatever your preferred method. You're always reading. He doesn't usually ask what it's about, not because he doesn't care, but because its your thing. Your time. It's how you unwind and how you switch off from the chaos. So when he sees you curled up, completely engrossed, thighs clenched and lips parted just slightly, he doesn't ever question it. He just lets you be.

Until the night you leave your book out. Right there in the open, no locked screen, not faced down. Just porn on paper, glowing under the kitchen light. Something about throbbing cocks and soaked panties. He picks it up, eyes scanning the pages with a slow devilish grin spreading across his face as he reads your filthy little secret like its the best thing he's seen.

When you walk back in and see him holding it, he doesn't even hide it, doesn't move an inch.

"This why you're always so quiet when you read? you readin' porn babe?" he whines, clearly enjoying himself way too much.

And from that moment on, he teases you relentlessly. Whispering lines from the book in your ear when you least expect it. Mocking the over the top language in that smug, cocky tone of his. Pulling you into his lap like "So what did your lil lover boy do next? Bet he didn't do this..." right before he slides his hand between your thighs.

But deep down? he loves the fact that you read shit like that. He's not jealous, not threatened. If anything, he sees it as a challenge. Because now Jax Teller wants to compete with your lil book boyfriend.

[kellynickelsgirl00]

Soo @tommyflanaganfan-blog @youngadult9016 @ravennaortiz @privatetruths @etclouie @theoutsiders25

Would you be opposed to Louise having a FWB in a few chapters who name is Daniel (Norman Reedus face claim or however that goes🤣) what are your thoughts?? Comment please !!😫🤣

[imagineredwood]

HCs for Juice, Tig, and Happy being asked out on a date with a note written on a bag of weed? Maybe they've been flirting for a while, but haven't actually gone out on a date, so she decides "fuck it, he won't ask, I'm gonna do it." And she just tosses the bag at him from across the clubhouse with a big, cheeky grin.

He's shocked and then immediately down. He was hesitant, worried that maybe he was just reading into it too much and didn't want to ruin the friendship. He just thought you were sharing, but when he sees the note, his eyes are soft as soon as he lays his eyes on you. And will follow you wherever you'd like.

He still probably thinks it's a joke. Just more friendly banter with some flirting. But when he looks over at you and expects you to be laughing but sees you there with a face as serious as ever, the twinge of a hopeful smile tugging at your lips, he's nodding. Standing up and making his way over to you. Ready to take you out wherever you'd like.

He still thinks you're just trying to joke. Might blow you off with a wave of his hand and just take the weed then toss the bag. You'd probably have to throw another noted with a :( balled up at his head for him to realize that you're completely serious and not just trying to tease or be childish. He might not even answer that day, take some time to think it over before he finally says yes.

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[justanoasisimagines]

Comforting Jax...

Hey, my lovelies, back with another headcanon. I hope you enjoy it! Credit to cafekitsune for the divider and the banner!

❀Jax doesn’t open up to everyone. He can’t be seen as vulnerable and weak. It would not do well for the club. However, everyone has a breaking point. Jax would have to feel safe with you. You would have had to prove yourself on more than one occasion. 

❀Jax has a build up over several months. He goes through alot, he sees horofic things. There is too much tension, too much stress. It all becomes too much. At first he deals with it in anger, because anger is comfortable, anger can fuel him. The moment he sees you, however, everything seems to break him. His knees buckle beneath him as he crumbles. You seem to be the only person who sees him. 

❀You try and reassure Jax with calm and gentle words. He tries, attempts to sooth his racing mind, but nothing seems to work. Not even the gentle tone of your voice. It usually brings him a source of comfort, but not this time. 

❀Jax needs something more. You go and make him a cup of coffee alongside something stronger, bringing it into the living room. To which you and Jax proceed to have a long heartfelt conversation. You both sit there for hours, have several drinks, and go through. You talk about everything and anything. There is no stone left unturned. 

❀At some point, Jax ends up with his head in your lap, while you stroke his hair. Jax feels the most relaxed he’s felt in months. Being locked away from the rest of the world, it feels as nothing could interrupt the two of you. For the first time, Jax feels safe. He feels like his worries can infiltrate your bubble. However, he’s exhausted. Mentally drained.

❀In the end, he ends up bringing you to lay, with him on the couch draping a blanket over the two of you. One night on the couch won’t hurt.