Happy Lowman Imagines

Burn With You

Pairing: Happy Lowman x Female Reader
Request: Happy imagine based on Burn With You by Lea Michele
Warnings: Language, I think that's it?
Authors Note: heyooooo! I finally wrote something after the longest dry spell of my lifeeee. This will be at least two parts, three at the most. The second part will relate more to the song. Ahh I hope you enjoy 💕 feedback is always welcome!! Please let me know what you think.
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It was early afternoon and you were driving through the streets of Stockton when you heard your phone ring.
You turned the radio down, pulled over to the side of the road and dragged your handbag towards you.
"Hold on," You muttered to yourself as you rummaged through the dozens of receipts and lip balms in your bag in search of your phone.
Maybe one day you would actually clean out your bag. But not today.
You found your phone and glanced at the name on the screen before answering, a smirk instantly spreading across your face.
"Hey Killer."
You could practically here the roll of his eyes as you purred his nickname.
"You busy?" His voice was as gruff as ever and you enjoyed the shiver as it ran down your spine.
"I've always got time for you, Happy." You sung as you turned the rear view mirror to look at yourself.
"I need a ride."
You raised your eyebrows and though he couldn't see it, you smirked playfully.
"You want me to ride you?"
The phone went silent and you knew Happy well enough to know he would be pinching the bridge of his nose, probably in fustration, but mostly in regret of calling you in the first place.
"I mean I thought you liked taking me from behind but I don't mind being on top for a change." You continued.
A long sigh was heard from his end.
"Where are you?" You laughed.
"St Aubyn street."
You nodded, recognising the street name. "I'll be there in ten."
You hung up the phone, knowing you wouldn't be missing any riveting conversation and turned the key in the ignition.

As you turned on to St Aubyn street you spotted Happy instantly. You could recognise him anywhere, and the biker clad in denim and leather stuck out against the white picket fences that lined the streets.
You slowed the car and pulled to a stop beside him.
Happy slid into the car and shut the door.
He had always been stubborn and today was proving no different as he stared straight ahead, refusing to even look at you.
You only raised your brows higher, your smug grin widening as you stared him down.
After a full minute of this he finally gave in.
"Look this is strictly me asking for help, because I need it. This isn't me coming onto you." He said sternly.
"You wish you were coming into me." You mumbled to yourself, quiet enough for him not to hear.
"What?"
"Whatever you say, Hap." You winked at him, causing him to shake his head.
"Jesus Christ."
You smirked again and shifted the gear into drive and pulled into the street.
"Where we heading?"
"TM."
You nodded, finding amusement in his stoic demeanour.
"Sooo how have you been?"
"Good." Happy grunted before turning the radio up.
Fighting back a laugh you turned the radio back down, causing him to sigh.
"I'm good too, thanks for asking."
Happy rolled his eyes and shifted in the seat.
"Where's your bike anyway?"
"At TM."
You nodded, knowing not to ask too many questions when it involved his club or his bike.
The rest of the drive was uneventful. You asked questions and he would grunt in response, determined to stay at arms length.
"You can just drop me at the gate." Happy said as you pulled into the street where Teller Morrow was located.
You ignored him, of course, and drove right into the lot and you heard him sigh as you parked.
"You don't need to get out." Happy told you as you reached for your seatbelt but once again his words fell on deaf ears and you practically leapt out of the car.
Gemma had seen your car pull up and she walked out of the office.
"Hey Gem!" You called across the lot and bounded towards her.
She welcomed you in a warm embrace. "Good to see you, sweetheart."
A few of his brothers were perched around the table and they waved happily.
You and Gemma watched as Happy, his head still shaking, joined his brothers.
"You two back on?" Gemma asked.
You shrugged. "I never know."
Gemma squeezed your shoulder. "Hang in there, honey. You're good for him. We all see it. Man like Hap? Needs to figure it out on his terms. Give him time."
You nodded. It wasn't the first time Gemma had told you these things and in all honesty you had missed her mothering nature. You'd missed all the guys, missed the days with SAMCRO, missed the essence of the clubhouse. It had always felt like home.
Arm in arm, the two of you walked across the lot to join the guys.
Tig was the first to hug you, followed by multiple kisses to the cheek and welcoming smiles.
"It's good to see you back, darlin'." Jax smiled.
"She's not back, she just gave me a ride." Happy defended instantly.
This time it was your turn to roll your eyes and the guys laughed.
"Yeah but you didn't have to call her, brother." Tig said.
"Yeah man, I've been free all morning." Juice joined in.
Happy groaned and you all laughed.
"Ye wanna drink, love?"
"No im fine, thanks Chibs. I should be getting off anyway."
"I'm sure Happy will help you with that." Tig grinned.
You laughed and said goodbye to the men, and they told you to come back soon.
But before you could walk away Happy grabbed your wrist.
"Thank you, (y/n)."
You nodded, smiling warmly. "Anytime."

Later that night you sat on your sofa, a glass of wine in hand and you skimmed aimlessly through the channels on the tv. It didn't really matter what images flashed on the screen; your mind wasn't here. Thoughts of Happy consumed you and you wondered how long it would be till you heard from him again.
It was a cycle, like clockwork. The chemistry between you was undeniable, and there was a mutual level of romantic feelings for each other. But every time you got close, every time he began to let you in, everytime you began to think that maybe this time it was different; the same thing would always happen.
Months would pass with no contact. And then he'd reach out, maybe for a late night booty call, a place to stay, an invite to a party. And you'd always accept, welcoming him back into your life and ignoring the charred remains of your heart that he'd left in embers the last time he left. It would be casual, at first. Just friends. You'd talk and laugh and then the feelings would come, growing like wildfire because no matter how many times he abandoned you, he always left a part of him there and all it took was one word from his soft lips before the seeds began to bloom once again.
It would be passionate. Desperate kisses in alleyways with your skirt hitched up your thighs. He'd whisper sweet nothings in your ear and you'd be tangled together in white sheets, all soft moans and heavy breathing. The mere thought of last nights events would leave you hungry for more and he would take you, pushed up against the wall in the hallway because he just can't wait any longer.
The late night visits would get earlier and earlier, and you'd start cooking for two and his clothes would litter your bedroom. Dust would cover the surfaces of his dorm room, his presence long forgotten. His body wash would take its place  in your shower and his cologne would sit next to your perfumes on the dresser.
It would start to feel real.
And then something would change. He'd push you away. "It's too dangerous."
And you'd argue, telling him you don't care, that's he's worth it. And he'd tell you the same things every time, that he just can't be involved with anyone, that you would be in danger and he'd be damned if he let anyone hurt you.
And then he'd leave, sometimes in the middle of night, sometimes in the morning, sometimes while you cried, clinging to his leather and begging him to stay. There was even that time he had left while you were in the shower and he was midway through cooking breakfast. You'd come out of the bathroom to the smell of smoke, burnt bacon, and an empty kitchen. But every time, no matter how or no matter when, he always left.

You swirled your glass, watching the wine flow with each move.
You had been so lost in your thoughts you didn't hear the motorcycle pull up, and it was only when you heard a knock on the door that you came back to reality.
You swigged the remainder of your glass and stood, trying -and failing- to not get your hopes up.
But as you opened the door and saw Happy Lowman standing on your porch, eyes dark with hunger you couldn't help but smile.
Like clockwork.
It was the start of the cycle, but this time it would be different. This time you would make him stay.