Happy Lowman ♡ SAMCRO ♡ "My old man is a tough man but he's got a soul as blood red jam and he shows me, he knows me, every inch of my tar black soul."
Request by @1witch-hybrid1: you and chibs are at a club party and a slow song just came on (preferably ‘you make it easy’ by Justin Aldean) and you guys just start to slow dance and it just goes on
Warnings: 18+, alcohol, fluffiness
Word Count: 1.7k
A/N: I did tweak this just a little bit, but I hope you still enjoy it! Also, as much as I love me some Jason Aldean, I didn’t mention any songs specifically just for the sake of people being able to sort of picture what they want. Chibs is one character that I always get anxious about writing so I hope this came out okay!
SOA Taglist: @masterlistforimagines @espieviolet99 @mijop @chibsytelford @thanossexual @xladymacbethx @i-just-read-stuff @lilah1903 @bport76 @toni9 @unicornucopia-fuckers @buckybarneshairpullingkink @shadow-of-wonder @punkgoddess-98 @paintballkid711 @black-repunzel99 @lexondeck @jitterbugs927 @fanfic-n-tabulous @mijagif @frattsparty @winchestershiresauce @bellisperennis0 @crowfootwrites @redpoodlern @beardburnsupersoldiers @mveggieburger @xeniarocks @choochoo284 @littlekittymeow @beardsanddetectives @bruxasolta @i-love-scott-mccall @be-my-dear @withmyteeth @flacalatke @passionatewrites @garbinge (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, let me know!)
Summary: When Happy turns up with a woman on the back of his bike, his mother is delighted
Warnings: swearing, speeding, lying (lol)
Note: 2.1k WHY DID WE NEVER GET TO MEET HAPPY’S MOTHER?! There was a whole episode where she was just chilling inside near a mess of pancake batter! This is always gonna be one of my favourite tropes. Also somewhere along the way did the fandom just headcanon that Happy was Hispanic? Or was it mentioned in SOA? I can’t remember seeing anything but literally every fic I’ve read has him as Mexican, rolling with it!
Happy glanced at you briefly as he continued his phone call. You had no idea who it was or what it was about but judging by his expression, which in honesty was subtle but spoke volumes for a guy like Happy, it was important.
You took the time to admire the gas station parking lot Happy had parked up in, it wasn’t much. The chance to stretch your legs was a welcomed opportunity. You had only been riding for two hours but for someone that wasn’t well versed at riding on the back of a Harley, your back was killing.
Happy snapped his phone shut and strode back to where you were standing by his bike, “We gotta stop in Bakersfield.”
“What’s in Bakersfield?” You stared up at him, squinting in the sun. He took his helmet from the handlebars and put it back on, you followed suit assuming you were about to take off again.
“My mom.” Was all he said before taking his seat and starting the engine. You couldn’t help the way you jumped at the noise, sure you were getting used to the sound now that you were around the club more, but you still had a way to go. Deciding to ignore Happy’s slight smirk you climbed on behind him, securing your hold around his waist.
“I get to meet Mrs Lowman? I hope she has embar- shit!” Happy speed off from the carpark, cutting off your teasing in the process, “asshole.”
Riding with Happy was… an experience. When you found out that it was him that was tasked with getting you to the San Bernardino charter, you had been hesitant to say the least. You’d even put up the argument that it was a waste of resources, sending him with you, and you would be absolutely fine driving your car down yourself. The club disagreed. It wasn’t safe, they argued. So take the scariest guy we have, you had mocked. You’d made it your mission on this trip to get him to crack a joke, a smile even. So far you’d had no success.
It wasn’t that you disliked Happy. You just hadn’t had much to do with him before. You’d never had a full conversation with the guy. He didn’t joke around like Juice and Tig. He didn’t tell you stories of ‘the old days’ like Chibs and Bobby. He was just there, always observing. Maybe he just hadn’t warmed up to you yet, you’d only come on as SAMCRO’s lawyer five months ago. It kept you busy, busier than you thought it would. But the compensation was worth it.
Happy rode fast, and what should’ve been a 90 minute ride to Bakersfield, definitely wasn’t. You soon found yourself cruising down the streets you could only guess Happy grew up in.
Pulling into the driveway of an older house with an immaculate garden, Happy cut the engine and signaled for you to get off before he followed. Shaking your legs out you took in your surroundings, “Did you grow up here?”
You were fishing for any morsel of information you could get about the man acting as your chauffeur, rolling your eyes when you received a grunt in response. Before you could push for a verbal answer the front door opened and an older woman hobbled out, excitement clear on her face.
Happy made his way to her immediately, gently taking her by the arm to keep her steady, “Ma, slow down.”
She slapped his hand lightly before reaching for his neck and pulling his taller frame into a hug. You smiled at the sight.
It didn’t take long for her to notice you standing back awkwardly, and she looked to Happy for an explanation.
He barely got your name out before she was walking over to you, arms wide open ready to wrap you up in a welcoming hug much like she had done her son.
Catching Happy’s eye over his mother’s shoulder you noticed his face was pulled into a scowl, you raised an eyebrow at his expression.
“Welcome, mija,” she pulled back to smile at your still surprised face, “Come in, come in! Lunch is still hot.”
She turned then and made her way back inside, no doubt to start dishing up the meal.
You walked a few steps to close the gap between you and Happy, “Your mom is the sweetest person.”
Happy nodded in response, the corner of his mouth curling up into an almost smile. He tipped his head to the house signalling for you to head inside. As the two of you walked in you whispered, “What’s her name?” In the rush of the initial meeting you hadn’t even thought to ask.
“Maria.”
As soon as you stepped through the front door you felt… welcome. The walls were decorated with an assortment of picture frames, each containing a different snippet of Maria’s life and loved ones, music was playing quietly from the radio, and a mouthwatering savoury smell filled the air.
You paused in the doorway to the kitchen as Happy stepped around you, gently moving his mother out of the way to get the plates she was trying to reach. Maria patted his arm affectionately, turning her gaze to you she motioned for you to take a seat at the table.
Soon a delicious looking soup was placed in front of you, and the Lowmans flanked you on either side, “Thank you, Maria. This smells amazing.”
“Don’t thank me yet. You might not like it!” She joked as you took your first spoonful, as expected it was delicious. Maria smiled as you voiced your praises.
As you ate quietly, Happy and his mom made small talk catching up, mainly about her health. As spritely as she was, you could see Maria was on the frail side. Happy obviously worried about her.
“You need home help, Ma-“
“I need no such thing, Happy. I’m fine.” She turned her attention to you, cutting off her son, “And what do you do for work, dear?”
You flicked your eyes to Happy briefly seeing his scowl at being interrupted, “I’m a lawyer, ma’am. The boring paperwork kind.”
“A lawyer! Smart girl, Happy. How did you two meet? You never said anything about a girl!” The smile was still on her face as you quietly choked on your mouthful of soup and Happy froze in his seat.
“No, Ma-“ The Son’s explanation was interrupted.
“You know, he’s never brought a girl home before. I worry about him. At home by himself.”
You and Happy locked eyes for a second, before he tried for a second time to explain, “Ma, it’s not-“
Again he was cut off. You had to let out a small giggle as he tipped his head back in frustration.
“You should’ve told me, mijo! I would’ve tidied the house up. Made a good first impression.” Maria looked ecstatic. She looked every bit the doting mom.
“Ma,” he placed his hand flat on the table top to make a point, “We’re-“
“We’ve only been together a few months.” It was you cutting him off this time. You could feel his glare as you stayed facing his mom, “I told him to tell you, but… you know what he’s like!” That made Maria laugh in agreement. Yeah, she knew what he was like. She raised the man. You however, had spent only a few hours with the guy, and that had been in silence on the back of his bike.
The home phone began to ring from the living room, Maria pushed herself out of her seat to answer it, leaving you and Happy alone.
You turned slowly to face him, “Okay-“
“What the fuck are you doing?” His glare hadn’t changed, his tone was accusing, but also curious.
“I’m sorry! I don’t know! It just came out. She sounded so excited, Happy.”
“Not your place.”
“I know,” you sighed, “You saw her, she just wants you to be happy. What do I say now? How the hell do I take that back?”
Your attention was pulled from the man beside you back to his mother as she returned to the table, still smiling brightly, “Julie from down the street. Wanting to gossip. Anyway, what were you saying, dear?”
You swallowed thickly, trying to work out how to break the truth, “Um, actual-“
“Met through the club,” Happy’s gravelly voice was doing the interrupting now, “She was doing some work for TM, went from there.”
You turned to him in shock. What the fuck was happening right now? Instead of meeting your gaze he focused his attention on the bowl of soup in front of him.
“I knew you’d find someone!” Maria grabbed your hand gently, drawing your attention, “He works so hard you know? Always working when I call. He needs someone to draw him away sometimes.”
That you knew. From your limited exposure with the club, you knew they were always working on something. Long nights, often without sleep.
Clearing your throat you nodded your agreement, “I try my best, ma’am. He can be incredibly stubborn though.”
Maria laughed knowingly while her son grunted beside you.
“I know all about that, dear! Keep at him. He gives in eventually.”
You let yourself relax with the current situation, “That’s good to know.”
After lunch and a million more questions about your relationship, which Happy had so kindly left to you to come up with answers for, Maria shooed you away to the living room to relax while she and Happy cleaned up. You had tried to protest but you had quickly learned where Happy got his stubborn trait from.
Sat on the couch flicking through an old photo album that Happy had tried to snatch away from you, only to be scolded by his mother much to your amusement, you found yourself tuning into the conversation between mother and son in the kitchen.
“She’s beautiful, mijo.”
Happy grunted.
“And nice! She’s exactly what you needed.” It was silent bar the splashing of water as the dishes were washed, “You be good to her.”
“Don’t worry about it, Ma.”
“I mean it, Happy. Treat her right. I want her around for a while.” A small smile found its way to your face.
“I know, Ma.” This is not how you saw your day going.
“Do you love her?” You heard him clear his throat awkwardly.
“Shit-“
“Language.”
“Uh, yeah. She’s great.”
You had to bite your tongue to stop the laugh that was close to escaping. You’d never heard Happy speak so softly with someone before.
“I’m happy for you, you know. She’s good for you. Bring her around more.”
“Maybe.”
Footsteps rounded the corner and Happy came to a stop in front of you, staring down at the photo album.
“You were the cutest kid,” you teased, “look at all your hair.” Lifting the book to show him.
“I was there.” He took the opportunity to take the book from you, snapping it shut and putting it back on the shelf, “We gotta hit the road.”
You pouted, wanting to spend more time getting all the juicy details of a younger Happy from his mom, but at his glare stood without argument.
“Heading out so soon?” Maria questioned as she joined the two of you in the living room.
“Gotta get to Berdoo.” Happy answered.
Maria sighed understandingly and turned to you, “See what I mean? Always working!”
Your eyes flicked to Happy briefly, seeing from his expression that he felt bad, “He has an admirable work ethic. I’m guessing he gets that from you, you’ve raised a good man, Maria.”
Maria pulled you into her embrace, “You’re too kind. Keep him in line won’t you?”
“Of course.”
Pulling back from you she turned to her son and repeated the action. It was almost comical, seeing a large man like Happy being pulled down to his mother’s height, “Remember what I said. I want to see her again.”
You should keep a tally of how often Happy responded with a grunt over a verbal response.
“Be safe on the roads won’t you? I love you.”
“Love you too, Ma.”
The love between the two was clear. Happy was the apple of Maria’s eye.
They ended their embrace and Happy moved to stand beside you, taking you by surprise when he hooked a finger through one of your belt loops and tugging lightly, signalling it was time to head out.
“It was lovely to meet you, Maria. Thank you again for lunch.”
She waved off your thanks, “You take care, mija. I’ll see you next time.” She spoke with a wink.
She walked the two of you through the kitchen and waved as you continued out the door.
You waved back enthusiastically, “Bye!”
Happy led you down the path toward his bike, hand barely grazing the small of your back.
When you moved out on your own for the first time, you weren’t expecting to become attached to your elderly neighbor. Or to get to know her reclusive son and his insane friends. But yet here you are. Life’s funny like that.
PART ONE | PART TWO
Words: 5.6K
Author’s Note: Sorry in advance for the Spanish translations. It was all done by google.
There is hardly any Juice/Reader in this first part, but it’s still tagged as such because I didn’t want to separate the story in the tags. Sorry.
Hey girl! What about the reader and Juice join the mile high club on their way to their honeymoon??? Love me some steamy Juice!!!! Thanks!
The Mile High Club
Pairing: Juice Ortiz x reader
A/N: When I read this request I thought it was about an actual club, NOT about people having sex on an airplane lmfao. Also this is my first time writing for him, so be nice to me 🥺
Warnings: NSFW, unprotected sex on a plane, mentioning of bodily fluids, I guess it’s kinda public sex?
It hadn’t even been five hours since the ceremony of the wedding, but here you were, having a seat in the airplane that would lead the two of you to many more exciting adventures. You loved the club like your family, but both you and Juice decided that it would be best to leave everything bike-related at home and focus on your honeymoon.
The plane had taken off maybe ten minutes ago, and while you’re feeling all excited and ready to have some fun, you couldn’t help but notice the slightly uncomfortable expression lingering on his face.
“Are you nervous?” You ask him, making sure he’s doing alright, considering he’s never flown before. “If you are, I’ve got something that might help”
A shaky laugh fell from his lips, and he quickly shook his head. “I’m fine, I promise. It’s just-“
Tilting your head, you wait for him to continue as he searches for the right things to say. He looks a bit uncertain, and this time it was your turn to become a bit nervous.
“The mile high club” he blurts out, almost sounding embarrassed of the words leaving his mouth.
“Care to elaborate, baby?”
“Something Tig told me about right before we left. It’s basically just couples sneaking off to the bathroom to, you know, have sex” he explains, whispering the last part. “
“And you feel like joining that club?”
“I know, it’s really stupid. Imagine if we got caught, that would be bad. Let’s just forget I mentioned anything-“
“We should do it.”
“Wait, what?”
His eyes are wide with shock, not expecting you to actually go along with it, and if you’re completely honest, you never thought you would either. Perhaps it was the thrill of getting caught, or simply the idea of having him inside of you as your husband for the first time. Either way, it was too late to take back your words, judging by the growing need right in between your legs.
“I said we should do it! Matter of fact, I’ll go inside right now, and you walk after me a couple of minutes later. Make sure to knock three times so I know it’s you”
Before Juice could even process your words, you were already out of your seat and making your way over toward the bathroom, the swaying of your hips driving him absolutely insane.
“Fuck, alright. You got this.” He silently encourages himself, while anxiously looking around. His foot was tapping on the floor impatiently, as he began counting.
Juice eventually stops around number thirty-six, not even making it to a full minute when he shoots out of his seat and follows you. Once at the door, he knocks three times and you open it with a large grin on your face— one he immediately mirrors.
You grab him by his shirt and drag him into the cramped room, his lips already crashing against yours. The taste of champagne was still on his tongue, instantly reminding you of your ealier celebrations.
His hands wander around your body, and it’s not long before your back hits the wall and his mouth attacks your neck, collarbones and everything else he managed to reach. Turning around, so your back is now pressing against his chest, you let him know how you want it.
Not wasting any time, he quickly moves to hike up your skirt. You can feel him from outside of his jeans, hard and ready to fuck you.
The sound of him undoing his belt had you salivating, and you were desperate for more. Juice must’ve agreed, because he slipped your panties to the side and entered your slick walls in one swift motion.
You’re about to make a sound, but a hand is placed over your mouth, stifling your moans. His other hand has a firm grip on your waist as he guides himself in and out of you, hitting your sweet spot without stopping. Looking into the mirror on your left, you’re enticed by the sight of Juice pounding into you from behind, his eyes closed in absolute pleasure.
“Fuck, you feel so fucking good” he whispers softly, “I’m the luckiest man on earth with you as my wife”
His sweet whispers had you whining even louder, and the familiar knot in your stomach tightening with every single thrust he made.
Juice’s hand moves from your hips to your clit where he starts rubbing his fingers in fast circles, completely overwhelming your senses. He buries his face in your neck, his teeth grazing against the sensitive skin.
“Cum for me, baby”
That’s all it took to send you over the edge and have to cry out in pure bliss. He continues to thrust his cock into you, fucking you through your climax while your legs were shaking furiously.
The clenching of your walls has him chasing his own orgasm, and with one final stroke, he shoots his hot spurts of cum inside of you, your name rolling off his tongue as he did so.
When both of you have come down from that delicious high, you remove his hand from your mouth, releasing a soft giggle. “God, that was amazing”
“Jesus,” Still busy trying to catch his breath, he nods his head. “It definitely was.”
After cleaning up after yourselves, and making yourself look somewhat presentable, you and Juice unlock the door and walk out. What you didn’t expect was an elderly woman staring at you two in complete horror.
While you’re pretty sure you’re about to die from embarrassment, Juice shoots her a big grin while gesturing towards the now unoccupied bathroom.
“It’s all yours, ma’am.”
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Summary: Juice stops by to tell his partner he loves her one last time.
Warnings: mention of suicide
Word Count: 1,802
Author's Note: I am hesitant to post this because it addresses Juice's suicide attempt. I am in no way implying that OC "saves" Juice from suicide, but rather offers comfort and someone to confide in when Juice needs support. OC keeps him busy and he doesn't get the chance to attempt suicide.
It was late. It was too late. It had to be at least 2 am when Dot woke to the sound of a truck pulling into her driveway.
“He knows better.” She grumbled, glancing over at the clock on her bedside table. 2:37 am. She wanted to be pissed at him for waking her up, but it was far too late for him to just be dropping by for the hell of it. Something must be wrong.
Dot rolled out of bed and shrugged on her robe, closing it over her chest and shivering. She had forgotten how cold Charming nights could get. Although the walk from her bedroom to the front door was less than twenty seconds, Dot had more than enough time to run through all the horrible things that could’ve caused such a late night visit. Did something happen to Tara? The kids? Did they need a safe house? What if she was in the same danger as Tara? Was the cartel coming for her too? She grabbed hold of the handle and threw open the door, more panicked than she should be. Standing on the porch with his hand raised to knock on the door, half-illuminated by the living room lights, was Juice.
“Hey baby, is everything alright? Are you alright?” Dot asked, taking a step forward. Juice dropped his hand to his side and looked at her wide-eyed. He hadn’t thought through what he was going to tell her. So he stood there, eyes fixed on his partner as he searched for the right words.
Dot grew more concerned with every second that passed. She furrowed her brow and looked down at his hands, which were fidgeting with the cuff of his jacket sleeve.
“Juice?” She asked, stepping out onto the porch with him.
“I love you, Dotty.” He stammered, seemingly surprised by his own words. “A lot.” His eyes moved to the floor, his teeth clenched.
“Juan,” Dot placed a hand on his arm and tried to catch his gaze. “What’s going on?”
Tears began to fill Juice’s eyes as he pulled more and more on the sleeve of his jacket. Dot’s confusion turned to concern as the man she loved broke down on her front steps.
“Hey, hey, hey,” she cooed, pulling him into her. She looked up at him, desperately trying to get him to look at her. The man slumped over into her, grabbing fists full of her robe as he began to sob. Gentle whimpers filled the quiet night’s air as Juice cried in front of Dot for the first time. His whole body shook as he released what Dot could only assume was years’ worth of pain. Dot was taken aback by this sudden showing of intense emotion, but immediately tended to him. She led him into her home and to the couch which sat opposite the front door. Everything in her was telling her to go into “mom-mode,” to jump up and grab water and tissues and a warm blanket, but she fought the urge to mother her boyfriend just this once. She sat down on the worn couch and looked up at him, motioning for him to sit beside her. And he did. It was obvious he was uncomfortable from the stiffness of his movements and his aversion to looking at the woman he loved. If only he knew how badly Dot wanted to be let in, how badly she wanted to know and love this part of him.
Juice wiped away his tears and looked up at the ceiling, acting as though he hadn’t dissolved into Dot a minute earlier. He even plastered on a fake smile when he finally looked at her. Dot desperately wanted to know what caused him to drive all the way out to her in the middle of the night. She wanted to know what was eating him up inside. But she knew better than to push and prod. Instead, she searched his face for answers that weren’t there.
A silence emerged between the two. A long, painful silence. A silence heavy with too many implications for even Dot to decode, and she could always read her lover. Not being able to tell what he was thinking terrified her more than anything.
“I should go, I’m sorry.” Juice said once the red in his cheeks disappeared. He shifted his weight and leaned forward to stand, but Dot grabbed his arm to hold him back.
“I refuse to believe you came all the way out here to tell me you love me.” She replied, being careful not to make a big deal out of his breakdown. Dot herself was on the verge of tears.
The truth was that he did drive all the way out there to tell his girlfriend he loved her. Rolled up in the back of the truck Juice had driven was a thick chain, a chain he was intending to hang himself with. But he couldn’t go without letting Dot know that he loved her first. She needed to know that none of what was going to happen that night was her fault. She needed to know how much she meant to him, how much he had loved the time they had had together. But when Dot opened the door and he saw her face, he froze.
“Stay.” Dot whispered, her voice cracking. She was beyond scared now, her mind racing with all the horrible things that could be looming just beyond her front door. Did Juice know something that she didn’t? Was he in danger? Was he trying to protect her? “I need you here with me.” Her pleading eyes filled with tears.
“Dorothy-” he started, a pit in his stomach starting to form.
“Juan.” Dot said, taking his face in her hands. “I love you so much. And I know I’m not like the other old ladies who run with the club and know how to use a gun, but I’ll do everything in my power to keep you safe.” She couldn’t stop the tears from rolling down her cheeks. “You’re my boy, Juice. My sweet boy. You’re the best person I know and I’m afraid of what’s waiting for you outside that door.”
Juice broke down again. He wanted to tell her everything. About the blackmail, the drugs, about murdering one of his brothers. But what would she think of him? Would she still believe him to be the best person she knew? Would she leave him if she knew?
He leaned into her, resting his head on her chest as he cried. Rubbing small circles into his back, Dot desperately tried to comfort him, but she didn’t know how. She didn’t know what was wrong, what could’ve made her perpetually chipper boyfriend melt into a puddle like this. She placed a gentle kiss on his head and held him. It was all she could think to do. Just hold him until he doesn’t need holding anymore.
“I’m here for you, baby.” She cooed. “Always.” Dot wrapped her arms even tighter around Juice. But his cries didn’t dissipate. She couldn't imagine the amount of pain and distress he was feeling for him to need an outpouring of this magnitude. And there was only one other way she knew to heal something like this. So she asked of him something an old lady is never supposed to ask of her MC partner.
“Talk to me.” She whispered. “Tell me everything.”
And he did.
Juice told her about his father and the blackmail and the drugs and the situation he had gotten into by stealing those drugs. He even told her about how he had killed one of his brothers and framed him as the thief. And when it was all out in the open, Juice felt a weight that he didn’t know he was carrying lift from his shoulders. But he still couldn’t shake the fear that Dot would see him differently, that Dot would see him as the criminal he was.
Dot sat and listened to him talk for hours. She held his hand the whole time. She knew he needed someone else to share his burden with as soon as he started speaking. She also knew that by listening to him confess to all that he’s done, she was putting herself in danger. But for him, she’d do anything.
When he finished, Juice waited for a response. He waited for any indication of what Dot was thinking. As Dot slowly nodded and let her eyes drift to the floor, his heart sank, fearing the worst. Silence once again filled the room.
Finally, Dot leaned forward, looking her lover in the eyes and asked: “What can I do to help?”
Before Juice could respond, a banging on the door interrupted them. They both looked over to the window and saw two bikes parked just outside.
“Wipe your face.” Dot said, tossing him a box of tissues as she moved towards the door.
Juice quickly dried his tears as Dot opened the door to find Chibs and Tig leaning against the frame.
“Is Juice here?” Tig asked.
“He was supposed to be at the warehouse, but he never showed.” Chibs added.
“Yeah. Sorry, I called him earlier. I was having a bad night and needed some company. I didn’t know he should’ve been working.” Dot glanced over her shoulder at the chipper man she knew and loved, even if she knew that smile she loved so much was a facade. “You’re gonna get kicked if you keep abandoning your work for some ass.” She playfully hit his arm as he walked past her onto the porch.
“Can you blame me?” Juice teased, leaning down to kiss her.
“Come on, boy. Club vote. We need everyone there.” Chibs called, already back at his bike.
Juice lingered on her doorstep, not quite sure what to say. He wanted to thank her. But for what? For listening to his guilty conscience? Instead, he said those three magic words:
“I love you.”
“I love you too, babe.” Dot replied, kissing him again. “Come home to me tomorrow, okay?”
“I’ll try my best,” he called out to her, walking off towards the truck.
“Keep him in one piece for me, okay?” Dot called to the two older bikers adjusting their helmets.
“Yeah, yeah.” Tig teased.
Juice smiled at his lover as he pulled out of her driveway. He really did love her. And he knew he could trust her. But neither of those facts made the guilt go away. He was still hurting inside, fighting battles no one would ever see. But at least he’d get to live another day. And he’d get to live that day with Dot by his side.
Summary: Juice doesn’t want to break up, but if he had to choose between that or the club? Well…
Warnings: Swearing, heartbreak, pain, the usual
Note: I love how you can go into a story with an idea on how you want it to turn out and then along the way you just yeet that idea out the window
The Breakup Series Masterlist
Juice caught your eye from across the room, flashing you his contagious smile before he turned back to his conversation with Chibs.
You felt a small smile climb its way to your lips, eyes darting to the carpet before anyone caught on to what, or who, had you feeling so giddy.
“You alright, baby?” You were snapped out of your thoughts by the matriarch you got to call your mother. Nodding, you fell back into the conversation you were in with her and Luann, discussing what was hot and what was not in the Cara Cara scene.
You had to admire your mother at times like this. Amidst the chaos of club life and all it entailed, she was still able to throw together one hell of a meal and bring the family together to enjoy each other’s company. Of course you were partially to thank for the meal, never being able to turn down Gemma’s request for help.
The evening carried on that way, finding yourself in conversation with the different club members, eventually landing in a group with Tig, Clay, Chibs and Juice.
“So you got a boyfriend we can beat up yet or what, doll?” Tig was always the first to offer a beat down when it came to the romantic interests in your life. More than once he had scared away the person you were dating, much to your dismay.
You caught Juice’s weary gaze on you from the corner of your eye.
“No boyfriend to report, Tig. Don’t worry. You’ll be the first to know.” Holding your hands up in a joke surrender. He nodded in satisfaction.
“I’ll be the first to know, thank you,” As far as stepfathers went, Clay was okay, “And I’ll also be the one to kill him.”
Your eyes flicked over to Juice and saw his eyes widen at Clay’s words, watching as his President wrapped an arm around his stepdaughter's shoulders and pressed a kiss to her forehead.
You sighed internally, well that wasn’t gonna help the situation.
Out of pure curiosity, and the exhaustion of harbouring a secret for so long, you found yourself asking, “What if I dated a Son?”
Juice busied himself with his beer as the three other men looked accusingly at you.
“There been someone making moves on you?” Chibs inquired.
“No, God no. I was just curious. Mom’s been trying to make me someone’s old lady for years.” You laughed out your explanation, noticing how Juice had suddenly tensed up.
“No Son is good enough for you,” Clay continued, “As long as you give her grandchildren, your mother won’t care who you shack up with.”
The rest of the evening passed by without issue and you soon found yourself back in the comfort of your own home. Lounging on the couch, glass of red in hand and Judge Judy reruns on the TV.
A knowing smile broke out when you heard the familiar rumble of a Harley slowing down outside your house. You waited for the rumble to make its way up your driveway and around to the back door, confirming who you thought it was.
When Juice didn’t come through the door a minute later, you stood from your spot on the couch and went to peer at him through the kitchen window, watching as he took a deep breath before dismounting his bike and making his way up to the door.
Juice jumped in surprise when he saw you standing in the kitchen ready to greet him. He plastered a smile on his face and all but launched at you, cupping your face in his hands and dragging you in for a heated kiss in lieu of a verbal greeting.
You found yourself giggling into the kiss at Juice’s eagerness, as he tried to deepen it as quickly as possible by trapping you between his body and the counter.
“Juice,” you began as he pulled back slightly, only to be cut off as he dove back in. You ran your hands up his chest, to his neck and finally to mirror his grip on you, physically pushing his head back from yours to break the kiss, “Hello to you too.”
His heavy breathing made you laugh and he stared down at you, “Sorry, hi.”
You rose to your tiptoes to peck him on the lips once more and pulled yourself out of his hold.
“You thirsty? I’m indulging in wine if you wanna join.” Juice was always one to join you on your wine nights.
It surprised you when he shook his head, instead taking your hand and leading you to the living room where he playfully pushed you to lay back on the couch and climbed on top of you, hovering over your face for a second before dipping down to kiss you once, twice and cheekily slipping you tongue on the third. He didn’t try to further it though, he moved himself down the sofa slightly and rested his body on top of yours, settling his head on your chest as he tuned into Judge Judy yelling at the plaintiff.
Juice was absolutely a cuddler. You had discovered that very early on in your relationship. First thing in the morning, crowding up behind you in the kitchen, sneaking into the shower with you, post sex, it didn’t matter. Juice wanted you in his arms at every opportunity.
You let your hand trace along his head tattoos as you lay comfortably under his weight feeling him relax into you, every so often placing kisses to your clothed chest.
“I love you.” He whispered into your shirt.
“I love you too.”
He hid his face in the crook of your neck, hugging you closely. Your eyebrows knitted together in worry when you felt his shaky breath hit your bare skin, “What’s wrong?”
“I love you.” He repeated, still hiding his face.
“I kno- Juice, hey. What’s the matter?” You pushed lightly at his shoulder in an attempt to get him to face you. He eventually complied and moved to sit up at the other end of the couch. Looking at you briefly and then looking anywhere but. It felt like a century passed while you sat in silence, waiting for him to get his thoughts together.
“We need to break up.” He managed to get through the sentence without breaking down. You sat up abruptly at that. Judging by the expression on your face Juice guessed that was the last thing you expected him to say.
You shook your head in disbelief, “What? Juice- tell me what’s going on.”
He stood from the couch and began to pace across the room.
“This is never going to work. You heard the guys tonight. There’s no way that we can admit now, that we’ve been sneaking around for months.”
You took a second to think back to what Clay had said at dinner, “Juice, the club doesn’t get to choose who I date.” You tried to reason with him.
“I’m the club, Y/N. I’m their brother. You’re my President's daughter and my VP’s sister! They’d kill me if they ever found out.”
“No they wouldn’t. You knew exactly who I was when we started this, Juice. You came on to me, remember? I can talk to Clay and Jax, they don’t rule me.”
Juice ran his hands over his head frustratedly, “But they rule me! You’re off limits to any of the guys. Everyone knows that.”
Now you were fired up, “Off limits? I’m not some fucking possession locked in a box.”
Juice leant back against the wall and watched as you got angrier, hating himself for putting you in this position.
“You knew what they were like when we started this, yet you still decided to be with me all these months. This whole time you’ve been saying that you’re just waiting for the right time to tell them about us. And now- now you’re just… done?” Your anger dissipated into sadness and Juice felt his heart clench.
Your eyes searched his, “Was there ever gonna be a right time, Juice? Or was this the plan all along? Have me around until the thrill wore off. And what was tonight? What - you wanted one last fuck?”
He pushed himself off the wall at the accusation and moved to kneel in front of you, grabbing your hands to hold them in his, tightening his grip when you tried to pull away, “No, no. I love you. I wanted this to work so bad but- but it just won’t.”
“Jesus Christ this isn’t happening right now. How could- how could you let us get so deep? Juice I fucking love you.”
You refused to meet his gaze, knowing the tears in his eyes would be the trigger for yours.
“I love you. So much. But, I can’t lose the club. I can’t. It’s the only family I have.”
Turns out that was the trigger. Ripping your hands free you wiped at your eyes, “And me? Everything we have? Don’t I count for anything?”
The hole Juice was digging for himself seemed to swallow him whole when your voice began to crack.
“You’re everything. You deserve someone who can give you everything,” he wiped away his own stray tear, “and, it’s not like we won’t see each other, we can still hang out at the club like we do.”
Your tears stopped as fast as they had started. You stared at him in shock, “You wanna be friends?! Are you serious?” You took advantage of his lack of balance and pushed him away from you, standing and walking to the breakfast bar, pointing to the back door, “Get out.”
“Babe, we were friends before all of this. I don’t, I don’t wanna lose you.” He slowly made his way over to you.
“Get the fuck out of my house, Juice. Please.”
Silence took over once again as you both waited to see if the other would break. He let himself take you in for a moment, shaking his head when he realised he had gone through with it, that it was really over, “I’m so sorry.”
He reached out to grab your hand and give it a gentle squeeze, “I love you.”
You couldn’t bring yourself to say anything in response. How had the evening derailed so fast?Juice turned and started toward the back door. Your voice stopping him once he had pulled the door open.
“What makes you think I won’t tell them now?”
Juice turned in the doorway and gave you a sad smile, “I know you won’t.”
“How?”
He looked out the door and back to you, “Because I know you love me.”
Sons of Anarchy preference: how they react to having a naive and optimistic S/O
Jax
He has got that smirk on his face whenever you’re at the clubhouse, making the Sons happy with your constantly upbeat attitude. He has some darkness in his conflicted soul but seeing how soft you are makes him think you can keep the darkness at bay.
Opie
This big ball of anxiety is always so worried about you out on your own but has no idea how to properly express that so you’ll catch him brooding an awful lot. Just keep smothering him in love if you wanna see that smile grace his pretty face.
Tig
Poor Tiggy is so conflicted by his love for you. On the one hand, you are so innocent and must be protected at all costs. On the other, you are so innocent and he wants to corrupt you so badly. Only Tig can cause any corruption of your innocence though; if any other Son tries to crush that hopeful optimism, he will lose it.
Chibs
The Scot is torn between being in love with your innocent optimism and frustrated by your naïveté. He has seen so many terrible things and just wants you to be aware of the bad in the world just enough to protect yourself.
Happy
The grumpy one is soft for the sunshine one? The grumpy one is soft for the sunshine one. He is just drawn to your happiness and how you so eagerly share it and will destroy anyone who tries to change it.
Juice
This poor angel gets caught in his own head a lot and your innocent demeanor always pulls him out of it. He loves absolutely everything about you and feeds off your energy and will do everything in his power to preserve that innocent light that shines from you.
The Scotsman turned around embarrassed as he looked to the mother of his child, “Allie cat…I thought you were workin’ love.”
“I realized I forgot my phone,” she said with a smirk as she looked at Chibs and Declan. She bit her lip as he fought with the infant, trying to get him tucked into his onesie, “you always that creative with your language around the baby?”
“Oh ‘e knows what he’s doing,” Chibs said, looking at their cooing baby boy. Alicia came into the room and looked to see that it was a cute little onesie that had been made to look like a tux, “no, don’t look at em, Allie cat. It’s a surprise.”
“Why is our son dressed like a little penguin?” she asked with a smirk, “what are you planning, Filip?”
“It’s a tux for christs sake,” he growled playfully, “I was gonna surprise you at work with him and we were going to take you out to lunch. You know. A proper Mother’s Day surprise.”
“In a tux?”
“Well Mikey vetoed my idea of making Declan a kutte,” he grunted with a frown, “though your dad liked the idea of a kutte more.”
“Remind me to give Mikey a bigger allowance when I get paid,” she said, the smirk still tugging on her lips. Chibs gave her a frown, and she pulled her old man to her, “you don’t need to do anything for me, Fillip. I don’t mind that I have to work on Mother’s Day. Just like I don’t mind that we didn’t plan anything.”
“Yeah, well, you’re a mother,” he said firmly, “I’m gonna wine and dine you in one way or another. I’ve had this planned for a while.”
“Isn’t you wining and dining me how we ended up with him?” she teased.
He smirked, “I believe you had firmly supplied your own wine when we conceived this gorgeous little lad. By the time I got there, you had nearly killed the bottle.”
“You’re right,” she laughed, pressing a kiss to his lips before pulling away from him and going to her night table where her phone sat, still on the charger, “no wine.”
“Fine, but there’s already flowers at your office.”
“Lilies, baby’s breath, and a rose?”
“Nothing but the best for you, love.”
She smiled, her hand reaching out to touch her giggling son’s face, “you know…one day…I wouldn’t mind another one of him…”
“Oh, you just say the word,” he smirked, “I’m reared and ready to go, Allie cat.”
Request by @thanossexual: Can I request the prompt “I promised to love you forever, and that is a promise I intend to keep” with Chibs x Reader? Maybe the reader gets insecure because she thinks that she’s not good enough for him but little did she know that Chibs thinks that he’s not good enough for her as well and they keep hiding these insecurities from each other until one of the other Sons (preferably my man Juice 😭💗) forces them to talk it out cause it pains him to see them so miserable.Thank you ❤️
Warnings: language, angst (with a happy ending), mentions of alcohol
Word Count: 3.2k
A/N: I hesitate to say that I’m “back” to writing/posting. But this was the first thing I’ve written in weeks and it felt so good to do it. I’m still on a semi-sabbatical, but I’m hoping to drop some stories and stuff here and there. Enjoy a little Chibs lovin’ on this Monday. xo
SOA Taglist: @masterlistforimagines @adela-topaz-caelon @mijop @chibsytelford @xladymacbethx @i-just-read-stuff @kkim120 @everyhowlmarksthedead @toni9 @unicornucopia-fuckers @mayans-sauce @shadow-of-wonder @punkgoddess-98 @paintballkid711 @black-repunzel99 @lexondeck @jitterbugs927 @mrsstevenbuchananstark @mijagif @frattsparty @winchestershiresauce @bellisperennis0 @crowfootwrites @redpoodlern @beardburnsupersoldiers @mveggieburger @xeniarocks @choochoo284 (If you want to be added to the taglist just let me know!)
Sons Of Anarchy Masterlist / Chibs Telford Masterlist
“Lass, I’m married,” Chibs said, completely uninterested in the girl that was trying to flirt with him.
Hayley knew that but she didn’t care. She knew that his old lady wasn’t here and hadn’t been here since she started hanging around the club. Hayley was half Y/ns age and knew that she could please him in a way his wife never could.
She’d had her eyes set on Chibs from the moment she saw him, despite all of the warnings not to from the other crow eaters.
“Well, I don’t see your wife here,” Hayley drawled, leaning in closer to Chibs' side.
“That’s because she’s visiting her family,” The Scotsman answered, lightly pushing the girl away from him.
Maybe a few years ago he would’ve been interested; but now, there was only one woman in his life and that was Y/n. He was completely and utterly in love with her, that’s why he married her. He couldn’t have survived the last year without her, and now, he just wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.
“Well, what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her,” Hayley purred, scooting closer to him again, her hand stroking his thigh, completely ignoring the very obvious sign that he just wasn’t interested.
“I’m nae interested, lass,” Chibs stated, his firm toner this time as he removed her hand from his thigh.
But his tone only made Hayley more determined to have her way with him.
~~~~~
Y/n couldn’t wait to be back home, in the arms of the man she’d missed so much. She hated being away from him, especially for as long as she had been. The timing just wasn’t right; he couldn’t leave the club, they needed stability. But Y/n hadn’t seen her family in years; so Chibs insisted on her going and spending time with them.
Y/n could hear the music blaring from Red Woody from a mile away; that meant one thing. A party; she took it as a good sign, a sign that the issues with Club were now resolved.
When she pulled into the drive she could see all the members of the club, drinking and partying in true Sons of Anarchy style.
As she got out of the car, her eyes instantly landed on Chibs, who was removing a Crow Eaters hand from his thigh, with an annoyed look in his eyes.
“I’ve given ye my answer, Lass,” Chibs repeated, his frustrations growing. He was trying to be nice. He didn’t want to humiliate the girl but this was getting ridiculous.
“C’mon, just one time, you won’t regret it, I know I could give you the time of your life,” Hayley continued, batting her eyelashes at the Scotsman.
“Oh really?” The sound of Y/n's familiar voice made Chibs relax almost instantly; as his eyes landed on his wife.
“Sorry, who are you?” Hayley asked in a harsh tone as she rose to her feet, challenging the girl who was interrupting her.
“I’m his old lady,Y/n Telford” Y/n began, holding her hand out for Hayley to shake. Reluctantly the younger girl mimicked her actions, shaking Y/ns hand.
The small smile that was on Y/n's face turned into a devilish smirk and Chibs knew what that meant. Within a few seconds, Haley's arm was forced behind her back and the side of her face was planted nicely and the beer stained table.
“I’m gonna say this to you once, because I’m nice, and you’re young, if you ever touch my man again, I will destroy this pretty face of yours, understand?” Although her tone was quiet, there was a harshness in it; a harshness that terrified Hayley.
“I said, do you understand?”
“Yes,” Hayley whined, the pain in her arm getting worse.
“Good,” Y/n said as she shoved the girl to the fall, before making her way over to the man she’d missed so much. She could see by the way his eyes had darkened that and the bulge that was forming in his pants that he was turned on.
“Now you, come with me,” Y/n whispered flirtatiously into Chibs’ ear, grabbing the front of his shirt and dragging him away to one of the dorms.
“Ye know ye’re hot when ye’re angry,” he chuckled lowly, before crashing his lips onto Y/ns.
“I’m always hot, baby,” Y/n breathed between the kisses on her lips as she wrapped her arms around his neck, “Now fuck me so loud that bitch can hear,”
“Aye, I can do that,” he cooed, as he lifted Y/n off of her feet, carrying her over to the bed.
“What would you do?” You whimper. Filip offers you a noise of confusion as he lights up his cigarette, brows pinched in confusion for your cryptic words.
“For what?” He asks, smoke fluttering through the air, past his dry lips.
“If…” you swallow thickly, slowly toeing towards his frame. “If… something had happened to me-“
“Did something happen to you?” Filip forces, his brows shooting up towards his hairline and the ashes of his cigarette trickling to the floor. You promptly shake your head, but your wordless answer doesn’t appease your dangerous lover. “Do I need to get Jax- Jackson!”
“No!” You force out, closing the space between you both, your hands cupping his scarred face in your smaller hands. “No, nothing happened, I just…” he settles into your touch, blinking slowly back to their normal gaze, and he gives you forced sigh. His hands fall to your hips, thumbs tracing over the band of your panties.
“Please, answer my question.”
He goes silent, and lets out another exhausted sigh, his head coming down to rest against your stomach, the heat of the cigarette splaying over your skin. You gently pet his greasy hair, fingers tangling in the greying locks of your man.
“If, something had happened,” he begins, his words tickling softly against your stomach. “There is not an ounce of mercy any of the gods his sorry ass worships would be able to dole. He would be in my hands, and mine alone.”
He digs his cigarette out into the mattress of the bed, burning fabric filling the air with a foul stench to make your nose scrunch, and he plants a wet kiss on your stomach, just above your navel.
“The moment any whisper of anythin’ happening would fall on my ears, I’d spend the rest of my god given days finding the sorry son of a bitch, and tear him from limb…” his voice trails off as he glances up at you, planting another kiss to your skin before he grips your hips in his large paws.
note | this is horrible! i hate it, but i needed to just get it out of my drafts. it’s more of a trial than anything - happy and chibs are my fav soa guys to write for, but i wanna see how i am at writing for the other reapers.
It takes your eyes a second to adjust after you open them. While the California fall had given you a much-needed respite from the scorching heat, it had brought with it an unforgiving sun that blinded you every single morning.
Pulling your hands from underneath the warmth of your duvet, you push the heels of your palms into your eyes and will away the stars dancing in them. The drapes sway slightly under the breeze drifting in through the open window and another glare of sunlight hits your eyes just seconds after you pull your hands away from your face.
A guttural groan escapes your lips, and you turn onto your side. The duvet slips off your back and the cool air flushes over your skin before it’s quickly soothed away by the feeling of another warm body against your own.
“G’morning, baby.” Juice’s voice sends shivers down your spine, either due to the gravelly tone or the proximity of his lips to your ear. Either way you end up arching your back against him, your bare back pressing against his chest as he pulls the sheets back up over you. “Sleep okay?”
You hum affirmatively, lifting your neck so that Juice can slip an arm under your head. Resting your head on his bicep, he curls his arm around your torso and tucks his chin into your shoulder. Stifling a yawn, you tilt your head back and look up at him with tired eyes. “What time did you get in at?”
He mumbles against your neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses against your skin. “Got finished ‘round midnight, home about two.”
“Jax must’ve been in a good mood to let you guys off that early, hm?” You chuckle.
Juice laughs, the noise echoing into your ear and the vibrations from his chest travelling to your own. “More like he’s wary of having you rip him a new one at one of Gemma’s family dinners again.”
“I keep getting to actually see my boy in the daylight, and he’s got nothing to worry about.” You laugh, kissing the curve of his jaw.
“Mhm, well we’re all safe for another day then.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure of that.” You say, your words laced with a coy tone more intoxicated than any beer nor bud. “I’ve been awake without a coffee or a smoke in my hand for way too long, baby.”
“Oh, really?” Juice matches your tone, arching an eyebrow at you. “And if I could give you something just as hot and just as sweet without leaving this bed?”
“I’d tell you to put your money where your mouth is, loverboy.”
Summary: a cute little morning with Happy who refuses to take clothing advice
Warnings: Swearing, very vague mention of sex
Note: Focus on my half finished wips? Couldn't be me... fam... I started typing and this was the finished product. I NEEDED to get this written, this has been on my mind since I first watched SOA but the idea to actually write about it very suddenly after this post🥸 I love stubborn Happy.
When you and Happy first started sleeping over, back when your relationship was new, he wasn't a cuddler. You could expect to stay on your side of the bed hugging the duvet, and not the man lying next to you. There was one occasion after you had ‘done the do’ where you had collapsed on top of him, completely out of breath. For a few seconds he had run his hand up and down your back before pushing you - actually pushing you - off him to fall to the bed on his side. Before you could be offended though, you assumed he had sensed how harsh his action could be interpreted and grabbed your hand, interlocking your fingers.
You knew that Happy struggled with affection, both giving and receiving, and you were okay with that. Touch just wasn’t his love language. At least, it wasn’t in the beginning.
You often thought about the early days, how afraid of touch and love he was. It made you laugh thinking back, especially on mornings like this, when Happy was lying on you. Head tucked into your shoulder, arm wrapped around your waist, body half on yours.
It was your hand running up and down his back. He had sort the comfort after he made it home last night just past midnight. You had been asleep, but woke feeling him slide into bed and lay his head on your chest. No words spoken, just your soothing touch to be the calm he needed at the end of his obviously rough day, if the cuts on his face and raw skin on his knuckles were anything to go by.
Your hand stopping its movements to rest on Happy’s shoulder blade didn't even register to you until Happy let out a small whine, “Keep going,” eyes remaining shut.
A smile made its way to your lips and you resumed your tracing, Happy humming in contentment.
“No early morning call time today?” You questioned softly. It was rare that Happy had the chance to sleep in, especially since becoming Sergeant at Arms, so when the opportunity presented itself Happy took full advantage. The man loved to sleep in. Which was difficult for you, the early riser. When Hap slept in, he made sure you were right there next to him. While he never said anything, you had always thought it was his way of spending quality time together. You weren’t exactly the couple that had a weekly date night. And so your urge to start the day could wait.
“Not til 11,” he mumbled into your neck.
The two of you lay there in silence for a while longer, your fingers trailing across Happy’s back, his rubbing small circles where they were resting on your waist. You could have stayed there all morning, truth be told, if your eyes hadn’t caught sight of the clock on the wall showing that you had about 40 minutes before you had to be at the office. Perks of living in a small town? The commute to work only taking seven minutes, or one full karaoke session to Hotel California.
“I have to get ready for work,” you lightly nudged at his shoulder.
“Call in sick,” his arm wrapped tighter around you. You let out a short giggle at his response.
“Not likely, Hap. C’mon, let me up.”
He groaned and held you tighter, taking a deep breath in as he prepared to stretch out, finally letting you free from his grasp.
You yawned as you sat up, rolling your neck after spending hours in the same position. Happy had stolen your pillow as soon you had moved and had buried his face in it. Smiling, you ran your hand over his stubbly head and leant down to press a kiss just above his ear. Happy hummed at the feeling.
Finally taking the plunge, you kicked off the covers immediately missing the warmth and trapsed into the kitchen to brew the coffee pot and feed little (big) Opie who had jumped excitedly from his spot on the couch as soon as he heard your feet leave the bedroom.
Walking back to the room to continue getting ready you stopped in the doorway and held back a chuckle at the sight in front of you.
“Happy, please let me take you shopping.”
He looked up from where he was pulling his jeans on with a confused look, “Why?”
“Because those jeans are miles too big for you! How do you not trip over everyday?”
“They are not.”
You smiled at him and closed the distance between the two of you, one arm wrapping around his bare waist, the other tugging at a belt loop on his jeans, “Hap, I could fit in here with you.” An exaggeration? Maybe.
He rolled his eyes, resting his hands on the small of your back, “I wear a belt.”
“That’s holding together by a thread,” another exaggeration? Maybe, “Please, Hap?”
His eyes studied yours for a few seconds before he bent down to kiss you quickly, “No.”
He smirked at your expression and pulled away to tug his shirt (also oversized, but you loved it) over his head.
You smiled and shook your head at him, moving to the wardrobe to pull out your outfit for the day, speaking over your shoulder, “What happened to your sleep in?”
“Cold without you,” he appeared behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing kisses to your neck. You grinned and pushed him away to step into your dress.
“Well if you’re up, would you mind getting me a coffee while I get ready?” Attempting to give your best puppy dog eyes. He nodded and gave you another kiss before turning to leave the room.
You were pulling playing with your hair, trying to get it work-ready when you heard a crash from the kitchen followed by a loud ‘Fuck!’
The sight you were met with when you made it to the kitchen was comical. Happy was on the floor, sugar granules surrounding him and a very excited Opie licking at his face. He turned to glare at you when he heard your laughter.
“I tripp-“
“On your jeans.” You interrupted.
“On the dog,” he argued, pushing himself to his feet, “I tripped on the dog.”
“Oh yeah, I’m sure that’s what happened.” You teased, stepping to grab a cloth to wipe up the spilt sugar.
“Wasn’t the fucking jeans.”
You bit your lip in a poor attempt to hide your smile as you moved to rest your hands on the back of his neck, pulling his moody pout to meet yours.
