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come-join-themurder · 7 years

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Obsessive - Part 4

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

(GIF isn’t mine)

____________________________ You pulled up to your apartment and took a deep breath, you had to get your nerves right before you went in or else the gun on your waist wasn’t going to help anything. You could hear your heartbeat, heavy and fast as you breathed deeply and slowly. Truth be told you were terrified of being inside your own home and your idiosyncrasies made it impossible for anyone to believe that your imagination wasn’t to blame for your anxiety. You walked up to the door and pulled the gun out of your jeans, flipping the safety off, closing your eyes and swallowing hard before putting your key in the lock and opening the door, gun drawn. Everything seemed normal. Lights were all off until you flipped on the light by the door, all the photos were placed exactly correct as if nothing had touched them at all. Maybe you were imagining things. You scoffed at yourself, setting the gun down on the table beside the door and walking over to your couch, plopping down on it and throwing your head back against the cushion. That’s when you heard it, the shuffling of shoes on carpet. It was coming from your bedroom but it was headed into the living room where you were. You bolted upright and stared to the hallway, waiting for something to appear as your heart was beating so hard your body was shaking and you could feel the tears begin to prickle against the backs of your eyes while you tried to form a coherent thought or do something other than sit frozen on your shitty grey couch. Apparently you had neither a fight nor a flight response, you just had a sit still and die response as you screamed internally at yourself to do something. In a matter of only seconds, that seemed like hours, a figure appeared in the same room as you, definitely male, but clothed from head to toe and the scumbag had a pair of your pantyhose on his head to mask his face. Immediately you were aware of the fact that your gun was not with you and your eyes darted to the table by the door and so did his. You had to move. You jumped up, racing him to the table where your gun was placed and winning, grabbing the gun whirling around, pointing it out just in time to stand face-to-face with him and pull the trigger. Click. You were so caught up in checking the safety when you got to your door that you had completely forgotten to chamber a round into the damn thing. You both stared at each other for a moment before he grabbed the barrel of the gun and jerked it away from you, striking you heavily with the butt of the gun, sending you down, hard, to the floor below you. You saw the gun fall beside you and the door open, his boots rushing out of your apartment before something wet, that you couldn’t yet identify as blood, began pooling in your eye, your vision blurring as you blacked out, blood dripping down your face. You came to an hour later. Your memory of the events that had transpired all came back to you powerfully and you jumped to your feet, a mistake you quickly regretted as your head began to spin and your splitting headache almost sent you back to the ground. You realized that your phone had been ringing and you stumbled over to it, reaching down to pick it up. You looked up at the photos on your wall, seeing your reflection in one of them and noticing the huge gash on your temple. You began to freak out and feel light-headed as you flipped your phone over to look at the caller ID, it was Juice. Trying to form a coherent thought, you picked up the phone, holding it to your ear and managing to squeak out a 'hello'. "Hey, you sound awful is everything ok? I was just calling to check on you, I heard about you sleeping over at Jax's last night." You began to cry, not responding to Juice's words, as the pain in your head started to set in and intensified. "Whoa, hey, (Y/N), what's wrong?" he sounded extremely worried and you could hear him stand up from wherever he was sitting and begin to walk somewhere. "C-can you come pick me up in the truck, I...I need to see Chibs," you stammered, sitting down and closing your eyes. "Yeah absolutely I'm on my way now. Sit tight," he said before the line went dead and you pulled your shirt off over your head to wad it up and press it against your wound to stop the bleeding. Ten minutes later you heard a knock on your door and you started to stand up to open it when Juice walked in. You guessed your intruder didn't bother to lock the door behind him when you left. Juice's eyes fell to the floor in front of him where the blood spot was staining the floor beside your loaded pistol before frantically looking up at you to see you sitting on the couch holding the tee-shirt rag to your forehead. "Jesus Christ!" he gasped rushing to your side, "What happened?!" "Someone was in here..." you trailed off, tears filling your eyes again. "We can talk about it later," he assured you, patting your leg and wrapping an arm around you, "let's get you to the clubhouse." He stood up and walked into your bedroom, returning with a jacket that he handed to you and you put it on, zipping it up to cover your bare stomach and bra before allowing him to help you stand. He walked you out to the truck and set you inside, pulling out his phone, dialing it and putting it up to his ear. "Chibs, can you meet me at the clubhouse?" he spoke into the phone. "I'm with (Y/N) and she needs stitches brother. I'm bringing her there now." "Yeah we'll be there in like, 5..10 minutes tops." "Alright," he hung up the phone and looked at you, taking a deep breath, "Chibs is going to meet us," he said reassuringly and you nodded, resting your head back against the seat and closing your eyes. Feeling weak, you fell asleep in the short ride back.

#Juice #Juice ortiz #Juice imagine #Juice ortiz imagine #soa #soa imagine #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy imagine #samcro

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