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pileofboneswrites · 8 months ago

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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.

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samcrosfaith · 6 months ago

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LITTLE MUNCHKIN

Happy Lowman x fem!oc (Bobby's daughter)

summary; Nola finally gives birth to their baby and Happy realizes immediately that it doesn't matter that he isn't the biological father (Nola's abusive ex is). This is a chapter from one of my fanfics on Wattpad called DAYLIGHT in case you wanna check it out. Or maybe I'll even post it here if enough people would be interested! 🤎

warning; this is pure fluff and super soft Happy. 🥰

HAPPY CURSED UNDER HIS BREATH as the cars rushed past him while he stood on the side of the road. After feeling his phone vibrate, he immediately pulled over to call Bobby back, who then told him that the baby was hereᅳ and he was still two hours away from Charming.

He hadn't taken a single break in between, the eight hours on his bike were clearly wearing on his nerves, never knowing if he would make it in time. Even he knew that a birth can take anywhere from twenty minutes to over a day.

Part of him was glad that Nola didn't have to wait for him in pain any longer, but his guilty conscience was gnawing at him. He should've stayed in Charming, like his gut had told him. But Jax needed him, it wasn't like he had a choice.

With a frustrated grunt, he put his phone back in his pocket, slipped his sunglasses back on and mounted his bike to finally head to Charming. There was nothing he could do, all he could do was drive faster and try to avoid the traffic as best he could so he could finally see Nola and the baby.

Knowing that both of them were okay at least eased his worries a little and allowed him to breathe again, his muscles slowly relaxing on the road.

Still, he would've wanted to be there to see their little girl being born, to hear her first cry.

ᅳ

AFTER ONLY AN HOUR Happy was crossing the halls of St. Thomas, every step fast and heavy. Nurses and other visitors silently got out of his way when they saw the grim expression on his face, although that was just Happy's faceᅳ probably his Kutte played a role too.

When he finally got from the white, depressing hallways to the more colorful one, which meant he was on the right ward, he finally felt some calm wash over him, a sense of relief. And yet he was nervous, nervous about what it would be like to finally see the little girl he and Nola had been waiting for.

How would he feel? Would he feel anything at all? For the first time, Happy felt anxious; afraid that he wouldn't be able to accept and love the little one like he had promised Nolaᅳ it was still Alden's child, as much as he hated to even think about it.

But he didn't have much time to sink further into the spiral of thoughts as Bobby slipped out of one of the rooms and ran a hand over his face and then down his beard. He looked exhausted, but also proud.

"How is she?", was Happy's first question, no hello, nothing, the worry and guilt chiseled into his hard features. "She's pissed? Or can I go in there without getting yelled at"

Bobby chuckled wearily, slapping Happy's shoulder. "No, not at all. She wanted you there, but she doesn't blame youᅳ Nola knew from the beginning that the club always comes first."

"Still, she shouldn't even think like that", the SAA grunted, annoyed with himself. Yes, the club came first, but his priorities had changed and he wanted Nola to know that. "Can I see them?"

"Sure. Nola just fell asleep, the little one's awake but quiet", Bobby told him, bracing his hands against his hips. "I was just going to get a bag for Nola, maybe not a bad idea if someone's there just in case the baby needs something."

"Okay, do that", Happy nodded, his hand already resting on the door handle as he turned back to Bobby one more time. "She look a lot like him?"

Bobby shook his head, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards. "Dark hair, yes. Otherwise she looks like Nola, as if she had stolen her mother's face."

Now it was Happy whose lips formed into a faint smile. "That's good."

And with that, he pushed the handle down and slipped into the room, closing the door behind him. As quietly as he could, he crossed the room until he stood next to the bed. With the smallest smile, he looked down at Nola, visibly proud of his Old Lady who looked absolutely beautiful and stunning despite having just pushed out a child.

He timidly brushed back a few blonde strands that had come loose from her low ponytail and bent down to kiss her hair, inhaling her scent before finally taking a look at the small cot on the other side of the bed, catching his first glimpse of the baby.

His pulse was racing with excitement and anticipation as he walked around the bed and rested both his hands on the top railing of the cot. His lungs hitched and he had to swallow hard when he saw the little bundle, wrapped in a soft pink blanket, the baby noises filling his chest with love and pride.

He had never felt so much pride as he did in that moment.

"Hey Munchkin", he murmured, his voice dropping to a soft whisper. "Nice to finally see you."

As the baby looked up at him with curious eyes, opening and closing her tiny fists, a yawn slipped past her lips before she began to fuss, probably just because she wanted to be held.

And that was exactly what Happy did. With care, as if she were made of porcelain, he slid one of his large hands under her tiny head full of dark hair, the other under her back and then scooped her into his arm. Rocking her gently and never once taking his eyes off her, he sat down on the chair that stood against the wall and sighed contentedly.

No one would be able to wipe that proud smile off his face as he looked down at her and rubbed the side of his index finger across her tiny cheek, listening to the soft sounds the girl made as a tiny hand reached for his hand, her grip on his finger tighter than he expected.

Happy swallowed hard, tears of pride burning in his eyes as a storm of emotions brewed inside him. Most of them were positive, mostly pride, unconditional love and joy. But also fear and anger, anger at the man who was lucky enough to be her father.

But the longer Happy looked at the bundle, he knew that the little girl in his arms belonged to him, that it didn't matter who her biological father was. She was his, his little girl that he would, just like her mother, protect with his life.

"What's your name anyway, huh?" Then Happy realized that he had completely forgotten to ask Bobby about the baby's name.

Excitement rushed through his chest as he spotted the pink plastic wrist band around the girl's wrist and scanned it for the name. A big lump formed in his throat as he read the name Nola had chosen for the girlᅳ the name he had suggested two weeks ago when they were sitting in bed eating pizza while brainstorming a name for the little one.

Ruby Elle Munson.

Ruby had been the name that he had come up with, the first one that popped into his mind that he had really liked. And Elle was Nola's mom's name. They both sounded great together in his opinion but it was the fact that Nola chose the name Ruby that really did something to him, coating his eyes again with a layer of unshed tears. Which of course he immediately wiped away with the back of his hand before they could fall.

"So Ruby, huh?", he asked, his voice thick with emotion. "Fits you perfectly, Munchkin."

Happy chuckled at the soft hiccup sounds he got in response, running his large hand over her tiny head, still fascinated by how much hair such a small creature could have.

"You're hungry? But we'll have to wait until your mom wakes up, I think", he croaked down at Ruby, not sure if Nola had chosen to bottle- or breastfed.

"You can feed her if you want, I chose to bottle feed her after the nurse said I didn't have enough milk", Nola explained, her voice still tinged with sleep as she slowly sat up, the happiest smile on her still slightly exhausted looking, pale face. "She's beautiful, isn't she?"

Happy's head shot up, the man had been too distracted to notice that Nola had woken up. Slowly he stood up, closing the little distance to the bed before settling down on the mattress.

"She's perfect, more than perfect." He placed a hand against Nola's cheek, literally staring at her sincerely after pressing a gentle kiss against her lips. "I'm sorry I wasn't here, babyᅳ you know I would've loved to be there."

"Hey, it's okay", she reassured him with a coo, sliding a little closer to him with a soft groan, which immediately made Happy look up with concern in his dark eyes. "I'm fine, don't worryᅳ just still a little sore", she assured him with a soft hum. "Thanks for coming right away, baby."

"Our daughter was just born, of course I was coming right away, Nola", the SAA grunted deadpanned, slipping his arm behind her back to pull her into his side. "I want you to know that you and Ruby come first, you hear me?"

"Our daughterᅳI like the sound of that", the blonde hummed happily, looking up at Happy with her bright blue eyes, his words meaning more to her than he could ever imagine. "But what about the club? I know how importantᅳ"

Happy quickly cut her off with a kiss he stole from her lips. "I love my club, and yes, I'm always available if they need meᅳ but you and Ruby come first, my priorities have changed, little girl."

As it should be. That didn't mean he wouldn't be there for his club anymore, he would always be there when they needed him. That's what he had signed up for when he joined decades agoᅳ but he had his own little family now and he knew everyone would understand. Not to sound rude, but he didn't want to be like Jax who only saw his sons a few times a week for a few hours because he couldn't find the time otherwise, or like the others who spent their time at the club instead of at home.

He would be there for his Old Lady and their child, not wanting to miss anything Ruby would learn even if that would still take a while. Also, Nola wasn't his maid, he'd make sure to help her around the house enough so she would have the time to just sit down, relax and cuddle with their baby.

"I love you, Lowman", Nola whispered sincerely, biting back a small sob, feelings and hormones still all over the place. "I hope you know thatᅳ and I appreciate everything you do for us."

Happy grunted with a slight nod, placing another kiss on the top of Nola's head as her arm slipped around his waist while she ran her free hand over Ruby's head. "I love you too, little girl, both of you."

"I can tell that she already feels comfortable with you." With a smile, Nola lifted her gaze, kissing the corner of Happy's mouth. "She's completely relaxed in your arms, no fussing and nothing. I know we said we'd see how things would go", Nola paused briefly, nervously chewing on her lower lip. "But in my eyes, you are already her dad, Hap. She belongs to you as much as she does to me."

Nola would probably never know how much her words really meant to Happy. For a moment he was even too emotionally moved to just stare at her and swallow hard instead of answering.

After a long moment of silence, he squeezed her arm, his gaze wandering from her to Ruby. "I know she's mine, it just feels right."

"So..does that mean that you'd like to take on the role of her dad right away?" Nola lovingly nudged his arm with her shoulder, smiling proudly. "She's going to be a daddy's girl, I just know it."

Happy chuckled, nodding his head slightly. "I hope so, she's already got me wrapped around her little finger."

"Mhm..me too, apparently that's already her first talent", Nola replied with a broad grin before she snuggled back into his side and exhaled contentedly.

And Happy enjoyed the moment to the fullest, both of his girls in his arms. That's what it felt to be rich. No amount of money in the world could replace this.

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talesofanarchy · 12 days ago

Text

Without You

Her hands clutched a sonogram picture, attention fastened onto the small, developing fetus that lay promptly in the still. The tiny being of life looked like a growing human, not so much like an alien anymore. It had 10 fingers and 10 toes, and its eyelashes, and hair on its head were beginning to form. It was about the size of an avocado currently, still very small and requiring mommy to keep he or she safe. The news of her pregnancy had been a big surprise and somewhat overwhelming.

She hadn’t been on birth control and Happy and herself never used a condom, so it shouldn’t have come as much of a shock. Yet, it was. She and Happy had only been in a relationship for a year, still budding in the honeymoon phase, and she wasn't sure how he’d take the news. A big part of her hoped that he’d take the news well, that maybe somewhere deep down beneath his rough exterior, he wanted to be a father.

A sigh passed through soft lips, stress weighing down her chest. She was nearly four months along, the doctor said both she and the baby were healthy, and the little guy or gal was growing at the expected rate. The following week, she would have blood work to do just to make sure there was nothing internally wrong. However, the doctor said there wasn’t anything to worry about, only subduing your worries momentarily. There had been signs that indicated a pregnancy, but signs she overlooked.

There was the slight morning sickness, tender breasts, and the unusual craving for dill pickles. Which she had hated ever since she was a kid. All of this she could only chalk up to an upcoming period, one that had been missing for the last 3 and a half months. Her cycles had always been off, and so the thought of a baby growing inside of her womb had never crossed her mind. Not until Happy pointed out the swelling of her breasts and the small circular curve of her lower abdomen.

Tired eyes skittered towards the clock on the stove, seeing it was only 5:30 pm. Happy would be at TM until 6:30, and that gave her time to stew and worry for an hour. The baby was not just her responsibility, but his too, and they both needed to decide on what to do. How to handle it, how to raise it, and if he even wanted to be a part of the kid’s life.

Oil and grease coated the outlaw’s hands, which were firmly curled around the handlebars of his Dyna. The engine idled lowly beneath him, boots planted on the concrete driveway keeping the piece of machinery in place. On the days that he worked at the auto shop he was usually home by 7 pm, however, when he had business with the club, his arrival varied.

Coal embers glanced in the direction of his old lady's Chevrolet Cruze parked on the street, knowing she was home. Today was her day off from the tattoo shop, and he wanted nothing more than to curl up on the couch with her and have a nice, cold beer. Cutting the engine and taking the key from the bike, he’d rise to his overwhelming, full stature. His strides were wide and predatory-like as he made his way to the front door, unlocking it and pushing it open.

The moment he was inside, he was shutting the door quietly behind him and undoing his work boots. “(Y/N?)” He called gruffly, wondering where she was. Once his boots were off and sitting by the front door, he began making his way into the living room, finding his old lady asleep peacefully on the couch. Lips twitched subtly, the corners slightly pricking into a smile, until he shook his head, regaining his hard expression once more.

He silently looked over the living room, finding everything to be in its place and clean. Something he appreciated about her, she could keep up with his neat-freak ways. Y/N wasn't messy, and she always put everything back in the proper spots. The TV played softly in the background, he assumed she had fallen asleep to whatever was on.

Turning, he’d make his way to the kitchen, intentions set on a cold booze. Happy was soon leaning down, rummaging through the fridge, while grabbing ahold of a Corona. Regaining his normal posture, his eyes danced along a photo on the fridge, pinned down by magnets. He did a double take, pupils widening before he grabbed the sonogram with a quick snap of his hands.

He read the name in tiny lettering above the image of the fetus (Y/F/N – Y/L/N) and all he could do was grit his teeth.

Happy’s muscular legs were carrying him subconsciously down the hallway and back into the living room where he flung the picture at her sleeping form. “What the fuck is this?” He spat.

The feeling of fluttering paper on her face, and then Happy’s booming voice spooked her awake. “Wha-.“ She grumbled half asleep, a hand going to her eyes where she began to rub at them frantically. “What’s going on Hap?”

Yet, her question was answered when she saw the sonogram on her chest. Easing herself up, she'd grab the photo, hurt lingering over her heart at the thought of his lack of interest in the picture of the baby they both had taken part in making.

“Answer me, little girl, what the fuck is that?” He growled.

Y/N had seen Happy angry plenty of times before, but his anger had never been directed toward her, not like this. Swallowing harshly, she'd grip the black and white photo a little tighter. “It’s a baby, it’s your baby.” She said.

The look of shock on his face made her stomach churn unhappily, and then he snapped. “No fuckin’ way is that thing mine. And if it is mine, get rid of it. I don’t fuckin’ want it.” He said. His words were enough to send her already elevated hormones, overboard.

Tears made their way front and center, brimming over her eyelids and falling down your cheeks.

“What do you mean get rid of it? I’m not getting rid of it Happy! It’s our baby.” She rose to her feet, hollering at him, trying to make a point.

He stepped closer to her, staring Y/N down with a disgusted scowl. “I want nothin’ to do with that goddamn thing, either get rid of it or get the fuck out of my house.” After that, he turned on his heels and stormed out of the front door with his boots in tow.

She chased after him, grabbing ahold of his bicep, wishing he’d just cool down.

“Don’t touch me.” He warned, snatching his arm away from her and backing his bike in reverse before roaring down the street.

She stood there in a confused stupor, he hadn’t acted in the way that she had hoped for. This was nothing close to what she expected. She had never seen anyone react so harshly to the news of a baby in her entire life, but then again Happy Lowman wasn’t just any sort of man. He was an outlaw, a renegade, white picket fences and kids just weren’t a part of the biker lifestyle. And if it was, it only happened rarely and far in between.

There was no denying the heartache she felt, each tiny intricate sliver of her heart was breaking into pieces. Shattering and ceasing to exist, because the man she had given her all to, wanted nothing to do with the life they had created, together. So, she stood there, dazed and confused, incapable of understanding where it went all wrong.

Tears were wiped on the back of her hand before she began retreating inside, deciding that it was time to go. There was no way in hell that she would abort their baby, no way in hell she'd ever choose Happy over the life blossoming in her belly. The moment she stopped putting herself first, was the second she found out she was pregnant. No one would ever come before that baby, not even the man who branded his name on her heart.

By the time Happy arrived at the clubhouse, he was fuming. A baby wasn’t a part of the plan, it never had been. Did he like kids? Sure. If they weren’t his, because he had no patience nor wish to deal with kids of his own. They were needy, grabby, attention-seeking leeches, that would demand everything from him and Y/N. The two of them had only been together 12 months, he wanted to be selfish with her, and he didn’t want to share her with anyone, ever.

He wanted to be able to lounge around the house with her, to fuck her on any surface of their home, to allow whatever feelings he had for her, to grow. He didn’t want to raise a kid, he didn’t want that kid putting a strain on their relationship. Something he had already done by blowing up on her. He had been a jackass to think that not using a rubber wouldn’t end in a mistake.

Cause that was what that thing growing in her was, a mistake. He couldn’t fathom why she would want a baby with him, he was a criminal, a brooding outlaw. The life was something he would never give up, not even for his kids. Were all women like that? Wanting to be married and to pop out mini versions of themselves and their partners? Apparently so.

Yet, Y/N had never brought up having kids with him, but he saw how she reacted with Abel and Thomas. That motherly instinct being worn with pride, the desire to have one of her own, evident in that dreamy gaze of hers.

If she didn’t get rid of the baby, then that would be the end of the relationship. So, was he willing to risk their relationship all for the sake of a baby they made together?

A baby that was made from admiration, carnal need, and pure love?

He hadn’t the slightest fucking clue. All he did know was that he wanted to drown his rage in liquor, to forget for a while. So that’s what he did.

Sometime after arriving at the clubhouse Happy had begun drinking, and not some feeble beers. He ordered round after round of Whiskey, easily downing it, the heat of the alcohol scorching any thoughts from his mind. When he was intoxicated enough, he pried some scantily dressed sweet butt from Half Sack’s arm, growling out. “You can have her when I’m done.” His arm dipped across the woman’s shoulder, leading her back to his old dorm room. A room in which he hadn’t spent any time, since moving Y/N in with him. Now here he was, about to bury all his frustrations and anger into some random bitch.

Yet as she was kissing his neck, and shimmying her way down to her knees, all he could think about was his pregnant old lady. Images of her kept repeating in his head, even new scenarios of her with a plump belly that housed his unborn son or daughter. Her smile, laugh, and gentle touch haunted his drunken mind, making him grunt in hindrance.

His dick didn’t even budge, refusing to get hard for anyone but Y/N. That woman had completely captivated him, enthralled him with her entire being. She had her claws in him and let it be known that he would have one hell of a time getting over her. Happy Lowman had never admitted it, but he was very much in love with her. She had said it many times, confessing all the feelings she held for him, but all he could do was shy away from the subject.

She understood though, that he wasn’t one for emotions, or much else. Y/N had accepted him when hardly anyone else did, she loved him for the piece of shit that he was, and she made him want to be better, for her, for the relationship.

“Get off me.” He snarled, shoving the broad away from him and redoing his buckle and jeans. The unknown girl could only look at him with a stupefied expression, not knowing what had changed his mind. She was just there for a good time, which was now ruined by the indecisive biker.

With nothing else to say, Happy was exiting the room, intent on finding his girl. Wherever she was, he’d go and get her, bring her back home where she belonged. Looking towards HalfSack, he motioned towards the back room. “Didn’t touch the bitch, she’s all yours.” Then he was strutting towards the clubhouse front door, the crisp air of the coast marching across his face.

Just as he was mounting his chopper, he heard the familiar voice of his VP. “Hey, Hap!” Called the blonde-haired Son, who was now striding towards him with a swaggered strut.

“What’s goin’ on with you and (Y/N?) She’s at my place with Tara, she’s a mess brother.” Jax sussed.

Happy sighed before running his hand tersely over his face. “She’s pregnant, and I flipped the fuck out. And I just realized what a dumb ass I was.”

Jax’s mouth was shaped somewhat into an ‘O’, before patting his friend’s shoulder. “Having a kid is scary, no one will tell you that, but it’s true. Their these little human beings who just take over your life and you find yourself falling in love with them. Just know, no matter what. You and (Y/N) will be great parents, we all know you love her. We ain’t blind.” The VP chuckled before squeezing his shoulder. “Now, go kiss some ass.”

“If Happy doesn’t realize how great this is gonna be for you both, then you can do it on your own. You got a great head on your shoulders, and I'll help however I can.” Tara sounded from the kitchen where she was fixing a bottle for little Thomas.

Y/N could only stare blankly at the wall, her back pressed into the sofa. Tara had become a close friend over the last year, one she confided in with everything involving Happy and the club life.

If anyone understood it, it was Tara Knowles. She had her fair share of shit-fests with Jax, and so far, the two were hanging on strong. The good doctor was raising a baby that wasn’t even hers on top of Thomas who was biologically hers. Y/N didn’t know where else to go after the blowout with Happy, so she went to the only friend she had in Charming who wasn’t one of the SAMCRO boys.

“Jax will talk to him, knock some sense into him. And if he doesn’t, I will.” Tara said, now standing beside the backside of the couch. “I’m gonna feed Thomas if you get hungry or thirsty. You know where the kitchen is.” The doctor allowed her fingers to brush over Y/N's shoulder in an attempt to soothe her before disappearing into the nursery.

All she could do was slump forward, elbows on knees, and face in the palms of her hands. For the last hour, all she had done was cry, and she was tapped out. The stress wasn’t good for her or for the baby, and she refused to jeopardize the kid’s health, despite her heartbreak.

“Fuck.” She breathed, running a hand through her tattered hair, brushing a few locks from her face.

Her head jerked towards the front door when she heard a loud knock. It was the sound of knuckles rapping over and over on the wooden frame. Glancing down at her phone, she realized it was midnight, who the hell was knocking at Tara and Jax’s house at this time?

Exhaling gently, she'd rise to her feet before trekking towards the door where Y/N cautiously peeled it back.

“Happy?” She said, dumbstruck.

Her outlaw stood disheveled in front of her, eyes dark and glossy, most likely from the liquor that she could smell seeping out of his pores.

“Are you drunk?” She snapped out with an agitated tint to her tone.

“I fucked up (Y/N.)” He swayed back and forth on unsteady feet, which made her slightly worried.

Yet when he said he fucked up, her mind instantly went to him cheating on her. “Did you go and fuck some croweater Hap?” She said low, trying to mentally prepare yourself for his answer.

“Almost. But I stopped it because I couldn’t get you out of my fuckin’ head.” He said.

And out went her sadness, which was quickly replaced with anger. “You what? Are you serious? I tell you I’m pregnant and you got out and immediately try to bag a fucking lay. You’re ridiculous!” She cried, her hands shoving into his stone-like chest.

He didn’t say anything, instead, he let her continue to berate him. Knowing that he deserved it and if anyone was going to beat him down, it would be her. Cause that’s the only person he’d ever let beat him down.

“I hate y-.” Her words were cut off by his bruising kiss, his calloused fingers tangling in her hair, drawing their bodies closer together. He protectively embraced Y/N and bit into her bottom lip claiming. Then the words he had been dying to say for months, finally slipped out.

“I love you, (Y/N.)” His warm breath danced across her cheek, his black irises boring into her lively gaze.

His thumbs began stroking her cheeks as he confessed everything. “I love you, but I don’t want to end up like my pops. I don’t want to be a deadbeat dad. Findin’ out you were pregnant was the scariest shit I’ve ever experienced, and I’ve committed murder, I’ve tortured people just for the pure fuck of it. But knowin’ ya were havin’ my kid, just, it stilled me.”

Y/N had waited so long to hear that he loved her, she honestly thought he’d never say it. But he did, and he meant it. She saw the look of terror in his eyes when he spoke of the unborn baby, and all she could do was calm his worries, all she could do was be there for him like she had been since day one.

“I always thought you’d be a great dad Happy, I never doubted that. And you will be the best daddy to our little one, you’ll never be like your father. Don’t ever think for one second that you are anything like him, 'cause you’re not.” She said.

Happy pressed his forehead against hers, his large hand sliding over her small baby bump. The first real time he even acknowledged that it was a baby and not just a thing. It was his baby, his child, and the woman he loved was carrying it.

“I love you Hap, even if you’re a pain in my ass.” She chuckled, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Likewise, little girl.” He cracked a smirk before laying another passionate kiss on her lips, his fingers flexing over her growing stomach.

#fandom #happy lowman #jax teller #juice ortiz #samcro #smut #tig trager #sons of anarchy fanfiction #sons of anarchy #charlie hunnam

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mysticalmallard · 9 months ago

Text

Silence

Description: Happy is in a bad mood, he doesn't want to talk about it.

Word Count: 839

Warnings: none just Happy being a grump

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

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SoA Masterlist ♥︎ Main Masterlist

Happy was in a sour mood for some reason. He was sitting on the couch in his apartment. He wore only jeans, and was glaring at the wall behind the TV, like he could set fire to it through the power of his thoughts alone.

His girlfriend wandered in, took one look at his expression and frowns a little . She crossed over the floor and leaned against the arm of the couch right next to him.

"Babe, something up?" She asked, reaching out to gently caress his shoulder. Her touch usually served to soothe his temperament, but today it was not having the same effect. His frown deepened slightly and he didn't react beyond a tiny huff out his nose as she touched him.

She was beginning to get a little worried. Happy was usually a very pleasant, but somewhat stoic person. He didn't often get into moods like this, but on the rare occasions that he did, they were often rather intense. She knew from past experience it was best to let him talk when he was ready, rather than trying to badger him into talking.

So, she stayed where she was, patiently stroking his shoulder and back like you would in an attempt to placate an irate animal, but it seemed to have no effect.

Happy sat in absolute silence for several minutes before he finally spoke."Bad day," he grunted finally.

His girlfriend didn't outwardly react to his words, but internally, she was a little relieved. The fact that he was at least talking was, in her experience, a good sign. She was careful to keep her replies low and soft, not wanting him to think she was trying to aggravate him.

"Want to talk about it?" She asked gently.

"Don't really feel like talking," he replied, a slight edge in his tone. He leaned forward and rested his forearms on his thighs.

While not necessarily an angry gesture, it wasn't a particularly positive one either. Happy wasn't the kind of man to share his emotions openly, even with the woman he loved.

He sat back against the couch, stretching out his long legs with a hefty exhalation as he did so. He remained sitting like that for a moment, just listening to her moving around in the kitchen.

She hums, standing walking into the kitchen.

Happy's eyes flicked up to follow her as she walked away. He watched in silence as she padded into the kitchen, disappearing from view, the sound of the floor creaking slightly under her feet.

After a moment or two of silence, his girlfriend returned, carrying two bowls full of cereal. Happy immediately recognized them as his favorite, prompting a slight raise of his eyebrows in surprise.

He hadn't expected her to do something so considerate, his foul mood leading him to believe she would likely be just as pissed at his behavior as he was.

A hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he watched her put the cereal down on the coffee table and turn on the TV.

Cartoons flickered to life on the screen, which only furthered his smile.she grab her bowl and joins him on the sofa next to him but still making sure to leave space between them, not saying a word. Happy eyed her silently, studying her profile as she watched the cartoons with an air of calm patience.

Her lack of reaction to his mood was perplexing to him. His ex's would usually comment on his grumpy mood in a teasing manner, yell at him for ignoring them, or at the very least ask him to lighten up. Yet, she said nothing, simply sitting there, eating her cereal.

He felt his frown gradually soften somewhat, the calm atmosphere and the cartoons slowly beginning to have a positive effect on his mood. He remained quiet for a few more moments as they sat in silence, the only sound being the chirping of cartoon characters and the quiet clinking of their spoons against their bowls.

The longer he sat there, the more her lack of reaction began to feel like an absence instead of a presence. It was strange not having someone poking at him to talk about his feelings. It wasn't entirely unwelcome, but it was certainly different.

He glanced over at her again, taking in her composed expression, the curve of her jaw, the way stray strands of her hair dangled over her shoulder.

Then, he did something unusual, even for him.

He wordlessly scooched himself closer to her until their bodies were almost touching.

She looked up at him with a hint of surprise in her eyes, her gaze flicking from the cartoons for the first time since she sat down. The faintest trace of a smile tugged at her lips, betraying her otherwise neutral expression.

She didn't move away when he shuffled up to her, allowing his shoulder and hip to press against hers. She waited patiently, not commenting, not questioning, just content to be close to him.

#sons of anarchy #samcro #soa #sons of anarchy x reader #happy lowman #happy lowman imagine #happy lowman fanfic #happy lowman fanfiction #soa happy #happy lowman x reader #happy x reader #happy lowman soa #happy lowman oneshot

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brunettemarionette · 10 months ago

Text

"So, which one do you like the most?" Gemma (a close friend of your mom) asked, looking excited. She had gotten the idea that the guys needed to start settling down so the club could have more family members.

"They all have different things I like about them," You say honestly as you shrug.

Gemma rolled her eyes. "I've set you up with most of the club, and you can't even tell me which one you prefer?" she sighed, crossing her arms. "It's a shame you can't date them all. They all seemed to have a soft spot for you, darling."

You frown, looking at the older woman. "I'm pretty sure that would be a reverse harem, Gemma."

The matriarch of the club just smirked, winking at you. "That's not a no…"

#soa #soa imagine #sons of anarchy imagine #sons of anarchy #jax teller #opie winston #chibs telford #happy lowman #tig trager #juice ortiz #samcro #gemma teller #soa gif imagine

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marleyelona · 2 months ago

Text

LADY OF THE REAPER

ONE

[ The Devil Wears Stilettos! ]

♤♡◇♧

THE CLICKING OF SIX INCH STILETTO HEELS AGAINST THE HARDWOOD FLOORS echoed through the clubhouse as all eyes landed on the dark haired beauty, who had entered the musky establishment. The scent of sweat, tobacco, stale beer and the pungent smell of pussy filled her senses, making her scrunch up her nose in disgust.

Everything went still as she approached. The murmured voices came to a halt, the background music became static, while the men's jaws dropped and eyes bulged out of their heads. The croweaters' eyes instinctively narrowed and some even went as far as muttered some snarky remark under their breath. The woman seemed to hear them as a sly smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth.

She exuded perfection and class, wearing confidence like a charmed bracelet. Her short brown curls flowed perfectly over her shoulders. Her olive skin glistened under the dim lights over the bar. But the thing that usually drew people in was her big, brown eyes and button nose, which she enhanced with her skilful hands and a make-up brush—going for the more natural look.

"Who's that?" Tara whispered to Gemma, who sat beside her, while she held Thomas against her chest.

Gemma let out a slight scoff as she barely glanced over at the woman, before turning back round in her chair, bringing her coffee mug up to her lips and taking a sip as the warmth flowed through her, "That...that's who we call Satan's first lady. She's trouble wrapped in a pretty package. If I were you I stay clear of that one."

As the brunette past the matriarch, she ever-so-slightly nodded her head to the older woman, who acknowledged her with a sarcastic smile, which only made her grin properly form on her Iips as she made her way through the crowd, who have now went back to what they were doing, but some eyes still lingered on the woman's perfectly curved frame, until she reached Happy Lowman.

"Where is he?" she demanded, her tone carrying sharp authority. Her hand rested on her hip as she held her head high, not showing one ounce of fear as she faced the Tacoma killer.

Happy simply stared up at her, seemingly unbothered as he moved the tooth pick around in his mouth, giving her a simple shrug and grunt.

The woman's features hardened, "Look, I don't care if he is deep in some whore's pussy right now, I need to see him."

A sigh left Happy's lips as he noticed the slight glint of a tear forming. Standing up, her waved off the prospects' protests, "Don't look at my cards," he rasped, sending them all a threatening look that was enough to send chills down their spines, before dumping his cards down on the table, and making his way around the coffee table over to the woman. Placing a hand on her lower back, he led her over to the hall, leading up to the dorms.

She didn't mind the placement of his hand, it felt friendly, familiar, not at all sleazy. Because back in the day, they used to be pretty close friends—but that was a long time ago.

So, she allowed him to lead her all the way to the end of the hall to Tig's dorm room, "It's good to see you, sweetheart," Happy murmured, pressing his lips against her forehead, before gently rubbing her shoulder as he walked away, leaving her standing there, staring at the closed door. Her eyes scanned over the small cracks in the worn wood, trying to focus on anything but the unmistakable sounds of a girl moaning, as well as the creaking of the old mattress that probably hadn't been changed in decades and the familiar pleasurable grunt of her husband filling her ears.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she took a deep breath, composing herself, before she reached for the handle, her fingers wrapping over the oval shape, twisting the knob and pushing it open only to be met with a scene, that even though she was expecting it, made her blood boil.

Tig lay back against the headboard, his hands gripping the hips of a young blonde woman, and from the absence of stretch marks and wrinkles on her bare back, she had to be in her early twenties at most. The girl, who was young enough to be his daughter, was straddling his waist as she rode him like she was competing in a rodeo. Her hair flying around in a tangled mess, her nails digging into his chest as her head snapped back, and a loud moan slipped from her lips and bounced off the four walls of the dorm room.

Announcing her arrival, she slammed the door behind her. Tig's eyes met her stern gaze as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"Annalise?" he breathed out, his breath hitching in his throat at the sight of the most beautiful woman in the world—at least in his world anyway.

Tig immediately shoved the girl off him, causing her to fall to floor in a thud. His eyes widened, his head snapping to the side as he peeped over the edge of the bed to check on her, "Sorry, baby," he whispered, before his gaze landed back on his wife, who had barely moved a muscle, her stern gaze refused to falter.

"You know, knocking is a thing, right?" The blonde groaned, pushing herself to her feet, placing her hands on her hips, not giving a damn that her chest was on full display. But Elise paid her no mind. "Who the fuck is this?" she snarled, her gaze turning to Tig when she received no acknowledgement from the older woman, who looked extremely good for her age.

Tig sighed, casually reclining back against the headboard, "She's my wife," he announced, his eyes never leaving Elise's beautiful brown orbs that held a fire that could even tame him.

"Ex-wife," she corrected, a smug smirk tugging at the corners of her lips.

Tig matched her grin, chuckling to himself as he shook his head in amusement, "Ah, technically we're not divorced, beautiful."

Elise's eyes narrowed at the smug bastard that she was still legally married to, "Because someone won't sign the bloody divorce papers!" she snapped, her composure finally cracking, she hated that—how much he got under her skin. But what she hated more was that he knew, and he loved it.

Finally, Elise's attention went to the crow eater awkwardly still standing in the room, "Leave," she ordered, motioning with her head to the door.

The young twenty year old with the flawless body that would make any woman jealous, didn't argue with the woman that held the threatening aura of authority, quickly throwing her clothes on and exiting the room so quickly she almost tripped over her own feet.

"So, where'd you find her?" Elise asked, gracefully sitting down on the edge of the bed, delicately flattening down the cotton sheets, scrunching up her nose as she pulled a black g-string out from under her thigh with two fingers, tossing it aside like it held some sort of disease.

This amused Tig, a chuckle rumbling through his chest, "Club hang around."

"Ah..." Elise nodded in understanding.

Tig shuffled down the bed, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder, immediately her familiar scent filled his nostrils as he closed his eyes taking in the feeling of having her in his arms again, "Don't judge, baby," he whispered, his lips brushing against her ear, while his warm breath hit the sensitive spot on her neck, sending a shiver down her spine. "Remember how we met?"

Elise's eyes closed as she instinctively leaned back against him, allowing the familiar warmth engulf her, "In my defence, I only ever wanted you," she said, turning her head slightly, and their eyes locked and the familiar electrical pull they always felt toward each other was still there—and Elise hated that.

Tig reached up to caress her cheek as he admired her soft features, "You look good, baby."

And she did. She wore a tight fitted, red dress that reached her ankles with a long slit up one side that finished just below the outline of her lace panties. And of course, she was sporting her classic stiletto heels to match.

The spell was broken in an instant, "Don't call me that," she hissed, pushing his hand away from her face as she went to stand.

But before she could, Tig grabbed her wrist and pulled her back, pushing her down on the mattress and pinning her there with his hand wrapped around her neck, a certain body part pressing into her inner thigh, "Then what do you want me to call you? Huh?"

Elise swallowed the large lump that formed his her throat at the close proximity of their bodies. Their lips were inches apart, and his warm breath against hers set her skin on fire.

Tig knew what he was doing, a smug smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, while his hand wandered up the slit of her dress, making her shiver, "When's the last time a man touched you the way you like to he touched?"

"A-awhile..." she croaked, her voice getting caught in her throat as her breathing picked up as Tig's free hand moved her panties aside, giving him access to her heat, his fingers agonisingly slowly brushed against her clit.

Suddenly, Tig's eyes darkened as his hand that was wrapped around her neck travelled down to her chin, his fingers wrapped around it and he roughly pulled her into a hungry kiss.

The kiss was aggressive, his tongue immediately meeting hers as their lips moulded together like two warriors looking for a fight. His teeth pierced her cherry lips, drawing blood as he devoured the taste of her, all the while, his fingers were relentlessly working their magic on her core, eliciting deep, animal like moans from the woman struggling to keep herself composed.

But as Tig's fingers slid into her tight folds, her eyes shot open and she shoved him so hard off her he stumbled back into a nearby wall, "Jesus Christ," she hissed, wiping her mouth with her hand, trying to remove some of the smudged lipstick, but only managing to smear it across her rosy cheeks. "I'm not here for that."

Tig glared at her as he pushed himself to his feet, throwing on his discarded shirt, his kutte sitting draped of a chair behind Elise, "Then why'd you come, huh?" he asked, his tone sharpened with frustration—he needed some form release.

It wasn't unusual for the couple to play a twisted game like this. To keep things interesting in their marriage they had come up with a game where Tig would bring a good looking girl back to his dorm, usually one of the newest crow eaters, or some dumb bimbo from the club and as things got heated, Elise would storm in, catching her husband in the act and throw the unexpecting target out on her ass. Filled with adrenaline and a lustful need for one another, the couple would proceed to fuck each other's brains out, not giving a damn who might hear. But that was all over now.

"I'm not signing no fucking papers," Tig sneered, pulling on his pants and doing up his belt. "You're my wife!"

Elise sighed, "It's Gracie..." she started to say, her voice strained with emotion as she lowered her head.

Tig noticing this, approached, cupping her chin and gently lifting her head, his eyes bore into hers. A sigh left his lips as he noticed the tears that welled like a pool inside her orbits, "Baby, what's wrong?" His features and tone softened instantly. "What's happened? Please, tell me."

Elise Trager never cried, well, at least not in front of people. She wasn't one to show emotion around others, not wanting them to see her as weak. So, as her husband, Tig knew something must be seriously wrong for her to look this broken.

Elise couldn't answer his question as a sob escaped her lips and her head dropped onto his shoulder. Tig didn't wait a second, his arms wrapping around her shaking form. She clung to him like he was her lifeline, her cries filling the room, making Tig's heart ache as he held her close, her face buried in the crook of his neck, her tears soaking the collar of his dark blue button-up.

"It's gonna be okay, baby," Tig cooed, running his fingers through her hair soothingly. "I'm right here."

Tig's mind raced with all the awful possibilities that could of caused such a heartbreaking sight, but he wasn't going to question his wife in this state. He just needed to comfort her—be there for her. And when she was ready, she would tell him. Tig just had this feeling that whatever it was...it was bad, and nothing was ever going to be the same again.

♤♡◇♧

Words: 2197

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samcrosstuff · 24 days ago

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PLS I NEED MOOTS WHO LOVE THE SOA GUYS AN UNHEALTHY AMOUNT LIKE I DO 😭

#sons of anarchy #chibs sons of anarchy #jax teller #happy lowman #samcro #soa #tig trager #juice ortiz

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whispersinthequills · 4 days ago

Text

Just Another Saturday Night…

“She doesn’t need makeup,” Happy thinks to himself as he watches you get ready for the club party. A beer in one hand and a joint in the other as he sits on the corner of your bed. He would never tell you not to of course. You needed to look good on his arm, you’re his Ol’ Lady; but he preferred you without, bare skinned and buck naked. Shut away from the world outside where he had your undivided attention and he could keep you safe from harm.

Hes been watching you for twenty minutes now and you’re still not finished. Hell, you hadn’t even started on your hair yet and that was a whole other world of over complication. You were currently working on a thick swathe of black eyeliner that came to a sharp point at the outside corner of your eye and the concentration on your face is adorable. Occasionally you’d stop and tilt your head as you examine your work with a critical eye then begin again, fixing some imperceptible imperfection that will be running down your face in a few hours anyway.

Forty minutes in and you release your hair from the comically large rollers and begin to style your hair. Again, you didn’t need to. A messy bun, piled haphazardly on your head with wispy tendrils framing your face was his favorite but of course you would rather die than be seen like that. Especially not in front of the club girls. Fuck no, he smiles. You needn’t worry about them, they couldn’t ever compare to you.

An hour has gone by and still transfixed; he watches you stand and drop your robe. His cock twitching to life in his jeans when you walk over to the bed, tits bouncing and hips swaying as you approach. His posture changes as you arrive, he sits up a little straighter, caressing your hip as you pass by and begin to dress in the clothes you had set out and judging from your outfit; skinny jeans and a cropped tank, tonight was gonna get messy.

“Can you fasten this for me, Babe?” Her voice brings him gently from his reverie and he stands and takes the silver chain from your hands, the electricity of your touch still rushes straight to his cock. It's why you still have a hold on him. He fastens the cool metal around your throat and revels in the sense of pride that puffs out his chest when he sees his name on the pendant. You’re his.

You finish dressing and look yourself over in the mirror and he shakes his head as you start tweaking your hair and makeup again and he rolls his eyes and walks towards the door. He waits, leaning on the frame as you finish off. The last thing you do before you head out for the night always makes him smile. You check your phone case and make sure you have cash and your atm card stashed then you stuff it into your left bra cup, in the right goes your dab pen and your front door key. As you reach the front door you stop again and check the mirror, spraying a liberal amount of his favorite perfume on your neck and chest before he drags you out by the wrist to his bike.

#happy lowman #happy soa #samcro #soa #expelled brain worm #my writing #learning to write

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imagineredwood · 10 months ago

Note

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.

SAMCRO taglist

@irenne-stans @emoengelfurleben @kola95 @xonickibaby @mrsstevenbuchananstark @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @fanfic-n-tabulous

General taglist

@piccasoe @ateliefloresdaprimavera @woahitslucyylu @everyhowlmarksthedead @glimmerglittergirl @fanaticfangurl21 @encounterthepast @svintsandghosts @starrynite7114 @destynelseclipsa @queenbeered @iamthegraham @emoengelfurleben @otomefromtheheart @rosieposie0624 @papa-geralt-of-cirilla @beeroses @weirdosandhopelessromantics @kola95 @cruzwalters @myakai13 @kaystacks17 @cole-winchester @alexxavicry @savagemickey03 @fanfic-n-tabulous @choochoo284 @xbloodyxangelx @carma-fanficaddict @gillysoldlady @choochoo284 @whitetxilwxlf @ravennaortiz @flowercrowns-goodvibes

#sons of anarchy #samcro #juice ortiz #happy lowman #tig trager #headcannons #headcanons #soa

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secretlysamcro · 2 months ago

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𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝑨𝒏𝒂𝒓𝒄𝒉𝒚 𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒏𝒐𝒃𝒐𝒅𝒚 𝒂𝒔𝒌𝒆𝒅 𝒇𝒐𝒓, 𝑰’𝒎 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒂 𝒔𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒆𝒓 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕.

[ROUGH SMUT] - feel free to request different prompt styles. You know me, I’m always down🤭

1. “y/n fuck… you gotta stop doing that darlin”

2. “I’m gonna fucking ruin you”

3. “Didn’t I fuck the attitude outta you already?”

4. “You’re gonna let me fuck you now? Covered in another man’s blood like a fuckin’ animal?”

5. “Fuuuuck, look at the mess you made baby”

6. “Shut up. Take it. Be good!”

7. “You gonna let me fuck you with my Kutte still on?”

8. “You think I won’t dick you down right here? In front of all these guys”

9. “Just say it y/n…you don’t have to mean it, I just wanna hear you fuckin’ say it!”

10. “You’re not even allowed to sit at this table…let alone get fucked on it”

11. “When you’re on the back of my bike? You’re fuckin’ crazy!”

12. “Open your mouth for me baby”

13. “The way my bike vibrates between your thighs, you get off on that don’t you? I fuckin’ knew it”

14. “Do somethin’ else to try and make me jealous darlin’ I dare you”

15. “Oh fuck…yeah just like that…cum for me baby girl…let me hear you say my name…good fucking girl.”

16. “Get in there. NOW!”

17.“Spread out across the Reaper like a fuckin’ offering. You look so good like this, baby.”

18. “You let me fuck you with his blood still drying on my skin. Shit y/n you’re as fucked up as I am”

19. “Take your punishment like an old lady should”

20. “Yeah, that’s right. Cry a little. Make it messy for me”

xoxo secretly samcro

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tinyshyteacup · 2 months ago

Text

TW: cussing

Part 2

Sugar, Spice and a little bit of Vice - Part 1

You first meet him on an ordinary morning at the bakery where you work. The scent of fresh bread and sugar lingers in the air, the soft hum of a radio playing in the background as you carefully arrange pastries in the display case.

The little bell above the door chimes, and when you look up, you see him—a tall, heavily tattooed man with a shaved head, wearing a black SAMCRO kutte over a dark hoodie.

His presence is intense, the kind that makes people instinctively give him space.

You try not to stare, but something about him catches your attention. Maybe it's the way he moves—efficient, no wasted effort—or the way his dark eyes scan the shop like he's casing it for threats rather than picking out breakfast.

You straighten up behind the counter, offering him a polite, slightly hesitant smile.

"Good morning! What can I get for you?"

He barely reacts at first, just steps up to the counter and glances at the selection.

"Coffee. Black. And a couple of those bear claws." His voice is low, rough, like gravel being ground together.

As you ring up his order, another man steps in behind him, someone you recognize as a regular customer—a SAMCRO member you've seen at the garage when you drop the bakeries ridiculous van in for oil changes.

Over time you’ve learned they aren’t as scary as they seem. Some of them, like Jax and Chibs, are even a little charming.

The heavily tattooed man exits the bakery and you serve a few of them that are still hanging around near the counter.

“See you met Happy.” Tig muses as he pays for his order.

You hear a ripple of laughter go through the bikers when you ask, in your usual quiet, way

“Why do you call him Happy? He doesn’t look very happy.”

It’s just an innocent observation, but they find it hilarious. Tig chokes on his coffee. Juice outright cackles. Even Chibs smirks.

“Don’t let him hear you say that" Chibs warns, still amused.

“Shit, she’s got a point,” Juice mutters under his breath.

You feel bad almost immediately. You don’t know much about them, but you know enough about people to assume there’s probably a story behind a name like that.

A man who looks so serious, so unreadable, doesn’t just get called ‘Happy’ for no reason. Maybe it’s irony. Maybe it’s the result of something painful, something tragic.

You don’t say anything else, but the thought lingers.

Over the next couple of weeks, 'Happy' come in with the SAMCRO regulars every so often.

Happy is always the same—quiet, watching everything, never talking much. He never jokes like the others, never lingers after grabbing his food.

You catch yourself musing every so often about his name. Maybe ‘Happy’ was a nickname given to him by someone else, something that stuck even though he doesn’t live up to it.

One day, after a particularly busy morning, you find yourself boxing up some of the extra pastries and bread.

You hesitate, then glance over at a receipt with the Teller-Morrow logo.

It wouldn’t be weird to drop something off, right? Just a little kindness.

After a small internal debate you decide 'fuck it' and you take a small box of pastries—things you aren’t even sure they’ll like—and head to Teller-Morrow.

You don’t really know why your doing it. Maybe it’s just your nature to want to take care of people.

The garage is busy when you arrive, but you find Juice easily, and he grins when he sees you.

“You looking for me?” he asks, a little too hopeful.

“I had some extra from this morning. Thought I’d drop them off. You guys are always coming by.”

Chibs grins. “That so? Ain’t that nice.”

You shake your head with a small smile tugging at your lips “Um, actually… I wanted to drop these off ...mostly for Happy ?”

Juice blinks. “For Hap?”

Chibs, who’s nearby, raises an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything. You nod, suddenly self-conscious.

“You don’t have to give them to him. I just thought—well, I don’t know what I thought, so I just picked a few things. There where bear claws left over, You don’t have to tell him they’re from me.”

Juice stares at you like you just did something unthinkable. Then he whistles, long and slow. “Huh, so you've got a death wish ?”

Chibs chuckles. “She’s just being nice.”

Juice shakes his head, but he takes the box from you. “Alright. I’ll give it to him. No promises he won’t throw it back in my face, though.”

You swallow, suddenly unsure if this was a bad idea. But you don’t take it back. Instead, you just thank him and leave.

Happy finds the box later, sitting on the workbench in the garage with his name written on a small note. The second he sees it, he looks around, eyes narrowing.

Juice, who’s watching from a safe distance, holds his hands up. “Don’t look at me, man. It wasn’t my idea.”

Happy doesn’t say anything. He just flips open the box, brows drawing together as he eyes the neatly arranged pastries. There’s no explanation, no name attached. Just the food.

He picks up one of the bear claws, sniffs it, then takes a bite. His expression doesn’t change, but he eats the whole thing. Then another. Then another.

When Tig walks by and spots the half-empty box, he whistles.

“Damn, Hap. Someone trying to fatten you up?”

Happy just grunts. He doesn’t throw the box away, though. He doesn’t even ask where it came from.

But the next day, when Juice jokingly tries to steal one of the last pastries, Happy slaps his hand away without a word.

The next time you see him, it’s at the bakery. He walks in alone. It’s early, barely past sunrise, and the place is empty except for you behind the counter.

Your heart skips a little when you realize who it is.

Happy Lowman.

He’s always been a presence in the background—silent, unreadable. But now he’s standing in front of you, dark eyes fixed on yours, and you realize how little you actually know about him.

You fidget slightly, wiping your hands on your apron. “Um. Good morning.”

Happy doesn’t say anything right away. He just looks at you, his expression as blank as ever. Then, finally.

“You send those?”

It takes you a second to realize what he’s talking about. Then it clicks—the pastries. The ones you left for him.

You nod quickly. “Oh. Yeah. I—um. I wasn’t sure what else you liked, so I just—”

“They were good.”

You blink. He doesn’t say ‘thank you,’ doesn’t offer anything more. Just that simple statement.

But coming from him, it feels like a lot.

“Oh. I’m glad you liked them.”

Happy nods once. Then he glances at the glass display case, his eyes scanning the options.

“Give me whatever you think is good.”

You hesitate, then carefully select a few pastries—ones you think he might like based on what he ate before. You pack them neatly into a bag and hand it over.

He takes it without a word, then pulls out a few bills and drops them on the counter. It’s more than enough. Too much.

“Oh—this is—”

Happy’s already gone.

You stare after him, stunned.

At first, it’s just an occasional extra visit. Once a week, maybe less. He never lingers, never chats. But he always comes back.

Then it becomes more frequent.

Some days, he shows up before opening, waiting outside while you unlock the doors. Other times, he swings by late, when most of the pastries are gone, taking whatever’s left without complaint.

He never says much. Never asks for anything specific. Just gives you that same unreadable look and lets you choose for him.

The other Sons notice. They joke about it. Juice teases him relentlessly.

“Man, you got a favorite girl now? That’s kinda cute, Hap.”

Happy ignores him. He doesn’t deny it, though.

One day, he catches you outside the bakery after closing. You weren’t expecting him, but there he is, leaning against his bike, waiting.

He doesn’t say anything at first. Just watches as you lock up.

Then, in his usual quiet, no-nonsense way.

“You walk home alone?”

You hesitate, then nod.

“Yeah. It’s not far.” You say with your usual smile.

He doesn’t respond right away. Just grips the handlebars of his bike, his knuckles flexing slightly. Then he jerks his head toward it.

“Get on.”

You blink. “What?”

“I’ll take you home.”

You hesitate, but something in his tone makes you obey. You climb on behind him, Happy makes sure you have time to hold on before the bike rumbles to life.

The ride is quiet. Steady.

When he drops you off, he doesn’t say goodbye. Just waits until you’re inside before pulling away.

After that, it becomes a habit.

#sons of anarchy imagine #soa imagine #sons of anarchy #samcro #soa fanfiction #happy lowman x reader #happy lowman #happy lowman fanfiction

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spaghettificationandpretzels · 2 years ago

Note

Congrats on the follower milestone! Well deserved! Could I request a 19 with Happy Lowman?

Masterlist

What a Mess

Contains: Fluff

1.1K words

“Whoever said you can't buy Happiness forgot little puppies.” - Gene Hill

Happy wouldn't tell you where the puppy came from, he just came home one day covered in human blood and handed you a scruffy crying puppy with a grunt. After you had washed the puppy and given it some boiled chicken, he gave you a Happy style explanation about how he "found" the dog when the SONs went to visit a drug dealer.

Two days later, Juice would tell you the truth. The drug dealer had bought the puppy early that day and just gave it to Happy when he decided it was too much work. The blood came later when Happy decided that giving a dog to strangers with guns was unforgivable.

She got her name the first night when she made her way between you and Happy as you settled into bed and flopped into your pillow. Happy turned into a total dog dad, carrying her everywhere because she hadn't got her shots yet and he didn't want her to get sick.

It soon became clear that Mellow was some kind of horse because she was putting on a pound a week and the more she ate, the more she wanted. Which led you to where you were now, looking out at a kitchen covered in roast beef scraps while she wagged her tail at you, "Did your daddy put the roast too close to the edge of the bench?"

Her tail wagged and she let out a yip as she wagged her way over to you, "I hope you like that because that piece of meat was very pricy." All Mellow did in response was lick your hand, "I'm not mad at you, you're just being a dog, but your daddy's in the poo."

"Why am I in the poo?" You turned around as Mellowed rushed to greet Happy.

"Because I asked you to put the roast in the middle of the counter when you took it out and you didn't so someone ate half of it." She let out another yip, and Happy bent down to scratch her ear while her tongue lolled from her mouth, "Hap, we pay really good money for her to have good nutrition. She can't be eating stuff off our table unless we let her."

He sighed, "I know. I meant to push it further, but she took her ball to the door and I wanted to play outside with her. I forgot where I left it."

You nodded, "That's alright, there was nothing in it that could have hurt her so no harm done. How about you clean up here while I give her a bath and then you can go and get us some takeout?"

Happy nodded, "That's fair."

You bent down and tapped your legs and Mellow came bounding over to you, "You wanna have a bath, you smelly girl?" Her tail waged and she placed your growing paws on your legs as her whole body wagged with her tail, "I'll take that as a yes."

She jumped off you and raced towards the tub and you sighed as Happy followed you, "Yes you can help but after that I want to kitchen spotless."

Happy smiled, "Hell yeah."

Mellow looked from you to Happy and with a wave of your hand, she was leaping into the tub joyfully. Happy raced over to the cupboard and returned with her brush, the nail trimmers and a bag, "What's that Hap?"

"I got her some soap." He opened the back and pulled out two large bottles with paw prints on them.

Your eyes grew wide when you realised what he had done, "Hap, that stuff is for show dogs, it's thirty dollars a bottle."

He shrugged, "She should only have the best."

You shook your head, "She already gets the best Happy, I get her shampoo and conditioner at the vet."

"Well this isn't shampoo and conditioner, it's prewash and after bath fur oil." He held up a finger and reached into the bag again, "I also go her paw balm."

You sighed, "Alright, just tell me how to use it once I've brushed her and done her claws."

Happy smiled, "It's easy, the lady at the store said it would make her coat nice."

You nodded, "I know Hap." Mellow could barely contain her joy as you brushed her fur and she slammed her growing feet into your palm when it was time to trim her nails.

"She's so well trained." Happy sounded so proud.

You shook your head, "Wait until the water turns on, she's just going to want to play." Sure enough, she was sliding around the bath with suds flying everywhere when it was time to wash her, Happy laughing as her floppy jowls went in every direction.

She yipped happily and hopped out of the bath when the hair drier came out and her tail flicked water everywhere when the warm air hit her skin, "She is the weirdest dog on earth, I've never met a dog that likes all parts of getting a bath."

Mellow stayed with you while you cleaned the bathroom and Happy headed to clean the kitchen, and she watched him on the couch as he mopped up all the mess, "She had fun here."

You nodded, "Yes she did."

Once everything was cleaned up, Happy walked over to you and kissed your temple, the Mellow's forehead, before heading out to get dinner, "You want anything special?"

You shrugged, "You know what I like."

"Yeah, I do."

****

Happy served you dinner, making sure that Mellow was occupied with a toy so you could eat without her feeling left out, even though you both knew she wouldn't beg for anything.

"I'm sorry about the roast. I know how hard you worked on it." He sounded sorry too.

You smiled softly, "I know, she's a puppy, there's no harm done." You pointed to the fridge, "Plus, you brought me cake, all is forgiven."

Happy looked at Mellow and smiled, "Do you think she knows how much we love her?"

You nodded, "I do. I mean, I don't love her as much when she pushes me off the bed but I love her with all my heart the rest of the time."

The side of Happy's lips ticked up in a smirk, "That reminds me, we're going mattress shopping on the weekend. I know a guy who can get us one of those huge orgy beds."

Your eyebrows wrinkled, "Those are big enough for more than two people and a great dane, what are you thinking Hap?"

"Well, you know how much Mel likes cats right?" You nodded, she had to say hello to every cat she saw, "I thought we could get a kitten, and then I read that two was better than one. I figure if we have a bed big enough, you won't say no."

You sighed, "I'm not going to say no anyway, you know how much I love cats."

Happy smiled, "I knew you'd say yes."

You shook your head, "You're lucky I love you."

He reached across the table and took your hand, "I love you too y/n."

Fin

@darqchilddaydreamz

#happy lowman fanfiction #happy lowman #happy lowman x reader #happy lowman imagine #david labrava #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy fluff #sons of anarchy fanfiction #sons of anarchy imagine #samcro #soa #happy lowman x you

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samcrosfaith · 8 days ago

Text

SONS OF ANARCHY 🥀

Idc they'll always be my favorite TV show duo (besides Phoebe Tonkin & Claire Holt, they share the first place with them!) 🫶🏻🖤

#happy lowman #jax teller #sons of anarchy #david labrava #charlie hunnam #samcro #tv show #duo #friendship

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talesofanarchy · 8 days ago

Text

Sweet Emotion

Anonymous requested: Could I have some smut with Happy maybe some rough smut 😆

Author's note: Sure thing, little anon! Happy drabbles are my favorite. What can I say? I am biased.

WARNINGS: 18+ EXPLICIT CONTENT! Read at your discretion!

The clubhouse was at full capacity, music loudly playing as people meandered with one another. She could feel the bass pulsate throughout her body, nearly making her want to start dancing. However, she wasn't that buzzed, and she wasn't about to make a fool of herself when she would remember it the next day.

A hand was loosely coiled around a glass of whiskey, her gaze fleeting between the crowds of people before finding her husband. He stood across the room near the pool table with his back to her. One of his hands was tucked into a front pocket, while the other held a cue stick. Tig stood on the other side, a large smile etched on his face as he began to line up a shot.

She took the last sip of her drink, licking the remnants of alcohol off her lips before setting the glass down. It was a night of celebration, one that honored Opie and Lyla's marriage. Y/N was ecstatic that Opie could find someone else to love after Donna's death. She didn't know if he would ever move on; she wouldn't blame him if he didn't. Hell, she knew she wouldn't have ever gotten over Happy if the roles were reversed.

A hand unexpectedly landed on her shoulder from behind, gently squeezing it. Quickly, she turned around, only to find Lyla standing in her wedding gown and a glorious grin worn proudly on her face.

"Thank you so much for helping with all the planning," Lyla spoke, nearly having to shout over the music.

Y/N couldn't help but return the smile before leaning and hugging Lyla. "Of course, I am so happy for you and Ope. You both deserve the best." She said.

Lyla pressed a gentle kiss into her friend's cheek. "You're still the greatest. I'll catch up with you later, though."

Y/N watched the newest old lady saunter off to her newly branded husband, making her yearn for her own husband's attention.

Yet when she turned to try to locate Happy, she saw a croweater had found her place beside him at the pool table. Lips were pursed with agitation; this one was new; Y/N hadn't seen her around Charming before. Most likely, she came from another charter, likely going through all the men there first.

Happy's face was devoid of emotion, never allowing his thoughts to be easily readable. Nonetheless, Y/N knew how temptation worked with these croweaters. They were like the latest drug, alluring, intoxicating, addicting. Once they sunk their claws in, it was like the men lost all common sense.

She watched as the woman batted her eyes and cozied up to Happy's side. The once feel-good buzz was gone. Instead, it was replaced with numerous emotions: jealousy, anger, hurt, and betrayal. Y/N wasn't just some booty call; she was Happy's wife, and the fact that he allowed this display only angered her more.

With little to no control over her emotions, she made a beeline for the croweater.

She shouldered past the unknown woman, causing her to stumble forward.

"What the fuck?!" She spat angrily.

As the croweater stood up straight, Y/N cracked an innocent smile. "So sorry I didn't see you there."

The croweater scoffed before stepping closer, her voice coming out in a sharp whisper. "If I were you, I'd back off. This one's mine." She pointed towards Happy.

A short, noncomical laugh came from Y/N as she stared at the unknown woman. "Yours? Really? Our marriage license would prove otherwise." She closed the distance between them, rage nearly boiling over.

"Enough, little girl." Happy gruffly said from behind her.

The croweater cackled, her head shaking side to side. "You think a marriage license is going to stop him from being in my bed at the end of the night?"

That was enough for Y/N to see red. Her hand immediately shot out, palm thrusting upwards into the bimbo's nose, causing a sickening snap.

She could feel the cartilage crumble beneath the force of her blow, her instincts to fight going into overdrive. The croweater let out a loud wail of pain, her hands going to her face, attempting to tend to her shattered nose. Blood oozed out, only proving the severity of the attack.

"You bitch!" The unnamed woman screamed, causing a mob of people to encircle them.

Just as Y/N was about to finish the job, she was hoisted over a pair of strong, sturdy shoulders. She struggled in her husband's grip, desperately wanting to rearrange the face of the bitch who thought she could so easily fuck her old man.

"Let me go! She needs to learn her fucking place." She spat loudly, the crowd parting as Happy lugged her outside.

The next day

After being forcibly removed from the clubhouse the night before, Happy had taken Y/N home. He didn't speak to her, didn't even look at her. Despite his silence, she knew he was pissed off. But what for? She hadn't done anything but put a croweater in their place. He was off limits; they were married.

Eyes slowly pried open as she stared at the empty spot beside her in bed. It was untouched. Happy hadn't even slept in the same bed as her last night.

Groggily rubbing at her eyes, she would push the blankets down before rising out of bed. The dull ache in her head urged her to get some Tylenol from the kitchen. Quietly, she trekked down the hallway before rounding the corner to the kitchen.

Happy sat on the stool at the island directly in the middle of the room. His kutte was hung over the chair beside him, his bare back presented to her. Y/N stood there briefly, pondering how to approach the situation. Exhaling softly, she would walk over to the coffee maker and press the brew button.

"You didn't come to bed last night." She stated.

"Didn't want to be around you." Happy retorted.

A pang of hurt echoed in her chest, feeling like she was the issue last night. When she only did what Happy would have done if some guy had tried to make a move on her.

"That's a little unfair, Hap. You just stood there, letting some random bitch hit on you. Were you going to sleep with her once I left?" She asked.

Happy leaned back in the stool, his brown gaze landing on his wife. A flash of irritation crashed over his face before he resumed drinking his coffee.

"So, what, you'll give me the silent treatment?" She asked.

His eyes locked with hers, his shoulders tense. He knew just how possessive she was; it was one of many things he loved about her. But there was a time and place for everything, and her little temper tantrum was poorly executed, especially in front of his brothers and everyone else. It was a night of celebration, and she caused a scene.

"We've had this conversation before; you're an old lady. Start actin' like one." Happy spoke sternly.

Y/N clenched the coffee mug tightly; what he said had rubbed her the wrong way. Yes, she was his old lady, but she was also his wife. The fact that Happy was trying to blame her for last night pissed her off.

"I am also your wife. Or does that not matter? Should I just let any bitch throw themselves at you and fuck you? Should I not care anymore?" She growled.

Happy pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger. Her flair for the dramatics annoyed the shit out of him. It wasn't like he was going to sleep with the bitch last night. Sometimes, he just liked to entertain the thought.

"Cut the shit, little girl." He warned, growing tired of the conversation.

Y/N slammed the mug on the counter, the liquid sloshing out and landing on the granite.

"Fuck you, Hap; if roles were reversed, you'd kill any man who even looked at me wrong, let alone touched me." Was all she said before storming out.

It had been a few hours since Y/N left, putting Happy on edge more. He didn't like that she left when they were fighting, and he didn't like that she hadn't even tried to phone him to check in.

Grumbling uncomfortably, he would run a hand over his face. Where the fuck was she?

He reached for his phone on the table nearest the couch, flipping it open to find Juice's name. Dialing his number, he brought the phone to his ear and listened to it ring.

A few moments later, Juice picked up. "Hello?"

"I need you to check Y/N's tracker and tell me where she is." Happy said blandly.

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the receiver before Juice cleared his throat. "Everything okay, Hap?"

"Yeah, yeah. Just tell me where she's at." Happy responded.

He could hear distinct shuffling in the background as he waited for the word from Juice. Who the hell did she think she was, just up and leaving without even letting him know where she was going? That wasn't how their relationship worked. She knew better.

The tracker was placed in Y/N's car when they started messing around long before their marriage. There was just something about her that he couldn't let go of, and he wasn't about to let a guy swoop in and try to claim her. Not when he had already laid claim. Not when he already viewed her as his property.

"Looks like she's at the grocery store in town." Juice uttered, clicking away on his computer.

A breath of relief was silently exhaled before Happy spoke up. "Aight, thanks." He clicked his phone shut before rising to his looming stature.

He strode to the kitchen, where he easily slid his kutte on. Reaching for his keys, he'd shake his head with a growing aggravation.

He had a few choice words for his wife, especially with her knowing there was shit going on with the club. He understood her desire for independence and the need for air after their fight. But it had been ingrained into her not to leave anywhere without telling him.

Did he have to fuck it into her for her to grasp the demand?

The Dyna roared as he drove into the parking lot that belonged to the grocery store. Pulling near the curb, he would balance himself with both feet planted firmly into the ground. The bike idled as he removed his helmet, his brown gaze fixated on the store entrance.

Cutting the engine off, he would resume his normal, overwhelming stature. He silently assessed the cars in the parking lot, quickly finding Y/N's car.

Good, she was still here.

As he walked into the store, he began frantically scanning the aisles as he passed them. The metal chain that hung from his pocket rattled audibly as he took vast, predatory strides.

Happy wasn't a patient man, and he didn't play around regarding his wife's safety. Just as he was about to call Y/N's phone, he caught sight of her conversing with a man he didn't know. He immediately slowed his movements, inching closer to hear what was being said.

"Yeah, I am new to town. How long have you been living here?" Said the man who clearly didn't know that SAMCRO ran Charming.

Y/N fidgeted uncomfortably, taking a step back to create some distance between her and the man who had been hounding her for the last five minutes.

"A little over 5 years. My husband and I are originally from Tacoma." She enunciated husband, trying to drive the point of her being taken into the unknown man's head.

However, this didn't seem to phase the man; he cracked a ridiculous grin before running a hand through his shaggy brown hair.

"Wow, Washington, that sounds amazing. Could I maybe have your number? Maybe you could show me around town?" He piped.

Happy's overwhelming need to stake his claim began to rear its horned head. The balls on this guy, didn't he hear that she was married? Or did he not care?

"Little girl." The Tacoma killer rumbled loudly from behind her.

Y/N quickly turned and faced him, a flash of relief washing over her face. Despite their earlier argument, she couldn't have been happier to see him at that particular moment.

The unnamed man glanced between them before shooting a questionable glare at Happy.

"Who is this?" He asked.

It didn't take more than a second for Happy to swarm in, his right shoulder cocking back before he unloaded his fist into the guy's face. The man fell against the shelves, canned goods falling in a loud clatter around him.

"Her husband." Happy growled possessively.

"Happy! What the hell?" She exclaimed, looking distressed.

But he didn't respond. Instead, he snatched her delicate wrist in his calloused hand, dragging her behind him as he stormed away from the scene.

Y/N struggled to keep up with him, finding herself tripping over her feet. "Baby, please slow down." She whimpered.

It didn't take long before Happy found the restroom and locked them in it. He stared down at her, his dark eyes swirling with a multitude of emotions. The need to dominate her echoed violently within. He needed her to know that she belonged to him. He needed everyone to know that no one could have her, not while he was living.

"What the hell was that Happy? That was completely unnecessary." She rambled on.

"Was it? That piece of shit wanted to screw you." He roared, causing her to flinch backward.

She scoffed softly, eyes rolling. Did he finally understand what she had to deal with when it came to random women trying to pick up on him?

"Oh, you mean like how the croweater tried to get you in her bed last night?" Y/N snapped.

Happy narrowed his gaze before stalking towards her. "You're mine."

Before she could respond, he was holding her head between his hands and violently claiming her lips with his. He didn't wait for her approval; his tongue had found its way into her mouth, tightly coiling around hers.

She briefly fought his advances, hands forcibly shoving into his chest. But then the anger and confusion melted away when she inhaled his scent. When his tongue seductively rolled around with hers. There had been built-up tension between them, and she was tired of fighting over the same thing.

They both needed this right now. They both needed to know that they belonged to one another.

One of his hands slowly trailed down her side, eliciting goosebumps in response. Fingertips moved across her abdomen before slipping underneath her t-shirt. It roamed further up to meet her unrestricted breasts. A murmur of approval rumbled in the depths of his throat.

His thumb teasingly rolled her nipple around, causing the nub to pucker underneath the pressure of his actions. Their mouths continued to move together in sync while her hands began to explore his taut stomach.

"Mine." He proclaimed once more.

Nails found the small of his back, digging ever so lightly into the skin. Her tongue roamed on the outskirts of his lips, teasing him. Slowly, she took his bottom lip into her mouth, teeth hovering over the vulnerable tissue. Y/N could taste this man forever if time allowed it. The way he overwhelmed her senses was like nothing she had ever experienced before.

As his hands trailed down her sides, she bit down on his lower lip, causing him to inhale a shaky breath. No one could unravel him the way she did. She knew how to touch him, how to please him. There would never be another her, never.

Her hands moved from his back to the front of his jeans, locating the belt. Fingers quickly undid the belt before moving to unbutton his jeans. Lips, finding his neck and leaving feathery pecks down to his collarbone.

In moments like these, everything ceased to exist. It was only the two of them, wrapped up in their own little world. Their bodies were in tune with what the other needed, as if it were embedded deep within the cells of their beings to please the other.

Happy's overwhelming need to bury himself deeply within her began to grow. But the need to prove that she was his took control. A hand swiftly found its place around her throat, where he applied a firm amount of pressure. The sweet sound of her greedy inhale of oxygen made him smirk.

He forcefully moved her towards the bathroom counter, his intentions becoming abundantly clear. She remained captured by his hand, her gaze swooping over his body in one clean movement. Their sex life had never been vanilla; normalcy wasn't in the books for them. Missionary was far between and usually reserved for the moments of lovemaking. Yet, this wasn't an occasion for lovemaking. This was pure carnal, unfiltered need.

"Who do you belong to?" He questioned, his hand slowly tightening around her throat.

Y/N swallowed dryly, nerve endings buzzing to life as her senses rose to their full magnitude. While Happy loved to dominate, she loved to submit. But submission never came easily; she liked to make a game of it. With a wicked grin, she would speak teasingly. "Tig, or possibly Chibs."

Happy found no amusement in her bratty retort. The idea of her being fucked by one of his brothers made him want to commit murder. With an unexpected movement, the palm of his hand collided harshly with her cheek.

A yelp of surprise echoed within the restroom, the sting of his assault making her eyes water. As the pain began to fizzle away, excitement started to unfurl in the deepest parts of her belly. She looked up at him with wide, doe eyes, trying to guess his next move. But that was the thing with Happy Lowman; everything he did was always unexpected.

The outlaw reacted purely instinctually, his body moving on its own accord. His large hands found her hips, digging into the meat that lay there. He didn't linger there long; soon, he flipped her around so her back was nestled into his front. His nostrils flared as he inhaled the scent of her hair, reminding him of honeysuckles. His dick twitched to life in his boxers, excited for the impending satisfaction he would surely feel.

His dark eyes traveled up the length of her backside, mesmerized by the sight of her plump ass in some floral, mid-length skirt. A hand was quick to smother an ass-cheek with a gratifying swat. Y/N couldn't help but lean forward, a moan tumbling past her lips.

Happy shoved her upper torso down along the countertop, and one of his hands tightened around the back of her neck, effectively keeping her pinned in place.

"Good girl." He praised, his other hand roaming up the backs of her legs.

She shivered with anticipation, instinctively pressing her thighs together. She needed some friction between her legs; Happy had the tendency to draw things out in hopes that it taught her a lesson. Bunching up Y/N's skirt, he would let out a low whistle as he found her to have no panties on underneath. Smirking, he'd adjust his boxers so his cock was able to spring free.

Y/N squirmed underneath Happy, her hips teetering side to side, hoping this would entice him to hurry. All movements ceased when she felt his cock slide in between her folds, a feral excitement pumping through her veins. "Baby." She cooed needily.

Everything that happened after those words was done hastily. Happy allowed his saliva to coat his cock, his hands pumping up and down his shaft a few times before he aligned himself at the entrance of her pussy.. He didn't give her the time to brace. Instead, he slammed his hips forward, causing his dick to tear through any resistance.

The moment he was inside of her warm, slick walls, he groaned. Nothing compared to the way pussy felt. Not drugs, alcohol, or even murder. Happy allowed her to adjust to his massive size, his cock pulsating in the familiarity of his wife's womb.

"H-Happy." She stuttered, reveling in how it felt to be stretched out to the point that it hurt so deliciously.

He didn't respond. Instead, he tauntingly pulled out his dick so that it was at her entrance. His fingers flexed into the back of her neck, solidifying his hold. When he saw her incessant wriggling, he slammed his hips forward, guiding his cock back inside of her. Y/N flexed her pelvic wall, causing her pussy to tighten around his shaft. Happy nearly crumbled at this move; it was the one thing that almost always made him cum.

His available hand pushed up her shirt, searching for his mark. His thrusting picked up in intensity and speed when he found his crow etched into her upper left shoulder. His balls slammed against the base of her ass as he edged further and further inside of her tight little cunt.

Unified moans of pleasure hummed throughout the restroom, signaling to any passing bystanders just what was going on. Y/N was pinned down and a victim to whatever her old man wanted to do to her. Not that she minded, she would always submit to him.

Happy let his fingers roam from her neck to the center of her skull, fisting her hair roughly. He tugged her head back, causing her back to arch inward. His hips snapped forward repetitively as he was set on filling her up with every bit of cum he had.

Both of them began to pant, their chests rising and falling as they tried to gain their breath. While she was positioned closer to him, he would lean forward and sink his teeth into her shoulder, right next to his crow. An animalistic growl rumbled in his chest as his dick slid in and out of her, savoring the overstimulation it offered.

Soothing the bite mark with his tongue, he half-assedly laid his stomach across her back. His arms wound themselves around her waist, supporting her and his weight.

"Tell me who you belong to." He demanded.

Y/N moaned loudly, her climax nearing closer and closer as he continued his brutalization.

"Yours, Hap." She replied breathlessly.

He gingerly kissed the sweet spot between her shoulder and neck, their bodies moving together perfectly.

"Cum for me, little girl." He ordered.

It was like a switch that opened the dam. Every single muscle of hers began to spasm, her walls tightening once more around his dick as he ushered those magic words.

Y/N's head fell forward, and every sense of hers heightened tenfold. Her eyes were clenched shut as her orgasm rid her like a bucking bronco. She could feel her pussy coil tighter around him, attempting to milk him for everything he had.

Happy's finale was quick to follow, only ever cumming after she did. He jerked forward a few times, allowing his sticky, white load to coat her womb. "Fuck." He exhaled. His hips continued to roll forward but at a much slower pace as he emptied his balls into her.

The two were a heap of sweat and nauseating euphoria.

Y/N could already feel stiffness and pain in her overworked body. It would be a welcomed reminder of her husband and his rough affection. The counter was uncomfortable and pressing into her ribs, but she didn't want to disturb Happy.

Slowly, he pulled out of her and stuffed himself back into his boxers. After buckling his belt, he admired Y/N's bare ass. The skin was red and welted from the erratic thrusting. Gently, he smoothed his hands over her ass cheeks, murmuring.

"Probably gonna be sore." He said.

"It's alright, babe." She replied.

Allowing her skirt to fall back into place, he would help her stand up straight. His fingers grasped her chin, forcing her to look up at him. They stared into each other's eyes momentarily before Happy pressed a small kiss to the center of her forehead.

"Never forget that you're mine, little girl." He whispered against her skin.

"Never." She vowed before kissing his lips.

#fandom #happy lowman #jax teller #samcro #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy fanfiction #fanfiction #juice ortiz #happy lowman fanfiction

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