Assorted SOA One-Shots & Imagines

Ride or Die (Happy x Reader)

Continuation of: Ain't No Loving Me
Playlist: Gangsta - Kehlani
WARNINGS: VIOLENCE, TORTURE & LANGUAGE (Also potential triggers)
Find Me On: tumblr, ffn or ao3 as crimsonheart01

I blinked, trying to focus on the room around me. Was it moving? It was too bright and I shut my eyes again. I heard voices around me, and hands touching me. I couldn't breathe... there was something covering my mouth. I thrashed to the side. More hands gripped down, attempting to hold me in place. I felt a jab into my side and moaned out in pain. The sound brought forth more pain in my chest and I coughed, tasting metal in my mouth. My eyes rolled back. I groaned. I opened my eyes again, searching desperately for some type of clue. The only faces I could make out were Asian. I cursed, the blood spilling back in to my throat. Triad.

"She's coming to." My mind registered that voice.

Lin.

I kicked my legs, giving the men holding me down a fight to the death. There was no way this was how I was going out.

Fuck Jackson Teller.

~(xXx)~

I stormed through the doors of Redwoody – all heads turning in my direction. I scanned the room and found the 'chapel' to my right. I kicked the door open, pulling my Beretta out from the holster hidden under my shirt. I barely registered the uproar around me.

"You can't be in here!" "This is official club business!" "What the fuck do you think you're doing!?"

I sidestepped each hand reaching out for me, rushing to the head of the table. I cocked my firearm, resting the end of the barrel at the President's temple. He lifted both hands in surrender, a cold front emanating between the both of us. His baby blues shooting ice at the fiery passion in mine. From the corner of my eye I registered as his Sergeant-At-Arms stood, his hand hidden in the top of his cut. No doubt resting on the hilt of his Glock.

"What seems to be the problem?" Jackson tilted his head up, a devoid smirk on his mouth.

I barred my teeth, licking across the top ones, "Up."

With a show of his hands, he placed them on the edge of the table and pushed against it, his chair rolling backwards. I stepped with it, keeping my gun in place. Jackson stood.

I pointed to the door, "Walk."

Every other man in the room jumped up, their eyes and voices raising as I forced their President out of the room. I heard the distinct sound of a gun cocked and I reached forward, slipping Jackson's Glock into my grip and pointed it behind me. I aimed directly at the forehead of his Sergeant while I met Happy's glare. Tig stopped short unsure of how to proceed. There were a few sharp inhales throughout the room. Silence echoing around us. Happy's teeth ground together, the tick showing on his jaw. I turned back on Jackson, my other arm still extended at the room behind me. With his hands still in the air, he strode through the busted in door. The blonde woman, I think her name was Lyla, in charge of the studio gasped and widened her arms, keeping the rest of girls behind her. I turned Jackson in the direction of the entrance door and he shouldered it open.

"To the water." I ground the metal into his skin, forcing him to keep moving.

I felt the presence of each member as they followed behind us. There was one set of footsteps that I stayed focussed on. Those steady footfalls familiar and causing for more grief to wash through me. This wasn't his fight. This wasn't his decision. We reached the edge of the pier, and I shoved Jackson down onto his knees.

I lowered into a squat, my lips against his ear, "Have you told them?" I spared a glance behind us, my eyes catching those of their famed killer, "Does he know?"