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drabbles-mc · 2 years ago

Text

Tailed

Happy Lowman x F!Reader

For Day 3 of @whumpril's 2023 Challenge: rope burns/knife to throat/"hold still"

Warnings: 18+, angst, injury, murder, language

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: It's been a minute since I've written for Happy, I feel like. I love this dude. I think he deserves a woman who is willing to kill for him idk.

SOA Taglist: @espieviolet99 @littlekittymeow @chibsytelford @anditsmywholeheart @i-just-read-stuff @justreblogginfics @buckybarneshairpullingkink @paintballkid711 @jitterbugs927 @fanfic-n-tabulous @mijagif @frattsparty @winchestershiresauce @beardburnsupersoldiers @choochoo284 @artemiseamoon @nessamc @garbinge @passionatewrites @camelia35 (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

The bag that had been over his head for a while now didn’t bode well for him. The ropes that were binding and ripping the skin of his wrists and ankles didn’t exactly spell out good news for him either. He wasn’t too worried, though. It was concerning, sure, but it was far from the first time he’d found himself in circumstances like this. Knowing him, it probably wouldn’t be the last either.

He had a gut feeling that whoever it was that had snagged him, and whatever their issues were with him, weren’t exactly related to the club. It was no secret that the MC had its fair share of enemies, and that particular laundry list of people would’ve been a good place to start, but as far as Happy knew he was alone. And none of the people who had captured him had called anyone. If it was something to do with the MC, someone would’ve asked him about it or made some sort of phone call by this point, but there was nothing. He wondered if the club even realized yet that he had been snatched up.

Whoever these people were, they definitely wanted him for personal reasons. Happy didn’t find that to be surprising in the slightest either. With all the people he knew and the things he’d done, he’d built up quite the roster of people who would like to see him dead or dying.

No one had said anything to him since he got thrown into what he was assuming was a van of some kind. He was sitting upright so he knew that they hadn’t tossed him in the trunk of some car, and the fact that there was a cushion underneath him let him know that he wasn’t just getting tossed into the back of some U-Haul. None of those details helped him figure out who had him and why.

Since no one said anything to him, he didn’t say anything to them. He wasn’t like Tig—he wasn’t in the habit of being chatty and making things worse. Sometimes his dedication to silence also made things worse, but it wasn’t quite the same.

Happy had no concept of time as they continued to drive to wherever their mystery destination was. He could hear the murmurs of the people in the car but they weren’t talking loud enough for him to make anything out. He listened for a GPS, or even to try and catch one of them giving directions to the other, but there was nothing. The entire time he was waiting and listening, he was trying to work at the ropes around his wrists. He could feel it ripping at his skin, but he still kept at it. Again, it wasn’t the worst pain he had ever endured. It surely wouldn’t be as bad as whatever was going to ensue once he actually got his hands free.

He just started feeling like he was making a little bit of progress with it when the van made a sharp right turn with no warning at all. Happy grunted as he tipped over in the seat, quickly scrambling to try and get himself upright again. He got an assist that was more hurtful than it was helpful, feeling someone ball their fist into the back of his shirt and push him upright and directly against the side of the van with more roughness than necessary.

“What the fuck was that?!” the man next to him yelled to the driver. It was the most Happy had heard out of anyone aside from their grunts and curses since they captured him.

“Got a tail,” another man, one Happy assumed was the driver, said back to them. “Trying to lose them.”

“By turning and almost going through a fucking building?!”

“Don’t be so dramatic.”

The man next to him huffed. “Who’s tailing us anyway?”

“White Chevy. Two cars back.”

Happy started laughing at that—he couldn’t help himself. The club might not have known that he was MIA yet, but of course you did. He should’ve seen that coming.

The man balled his fist into Happy’s shirt, yanking him so that he was face-to-face with him. Even though Happy couldn’t see him through the dark fabric of the hood covering his head, he could still feel the man’s nose pressing against his own.

“Who the fuck is following us?”

“I don’t know,” Happy replied, “I can’t see them.”

He felt the pressure of a knife being pressed against his throat. “Who the fuck is it?!”

Happy remained silent, and the man pressed the blade a little harder into the column of his throat. Happy felt the slight pull and the residual sting of the knife breaking the skin on his neck. It wasn’t a bad cut, not deep enough to be an imminent issue, but it was a promising threat that things were going to get worse if these guys didn’t get answers.

“Someone who is gonna be a real fucking problem for you guys if they get you.”

“Fuck me,” the man next to him grumbled.

The answer must’ve been satisfactory enough, because he pulled the blade away from Happy’s throat. It was a relief, but most because Happy didn’t trust the guy next to him to have a steady hand and if the driver made another sharp turn it was going to be game over very quickly.

“What do you wanna do?” the third guy finally spoke up loud enough for Happy to be able to hear him.

There was something familiar about the guy’s voice. Happy couldn’t quite place it, but he definitely knew it. Whoever the man riding shotgun was, he was the one who must’ve had the vendetta against Happy. He didn’t know who he was or what the vendetta was, and honestly he didn’t particularly care. Happy just wanted all of this to be over with. He was much more certain that things would go his way and that he would live to fight another day now that he knew that you were tailing them.

“I don’t know,” the driver said as he made another turn. “We just, we gotta lose ‘em.”

Happy laughed. “Good luck.”

The remark was met with the guy next to him slamming the side of his head into the side of the van. It was worth it. For a moment Happy understood why Tig was the way he was.

Happy was still working against the binds on his wrists but at this point it felt like it was no use. He was better off waiting for you to sink your teeth into these guys and free him rather than trying to wriggle out himself. It clearly wasn’t working anyway.

A few more minutes ticked by, filled with chaotic turns and the driver slamming on the gas. Finally, though, he said, “I think we’re in the clear.”

All three of the men let out sighs of relief, but Happy knew that they were speaking too soon. Anyone else in his position might’ve been disheartened, but he knew that they weren’t going to get rid of you that easily. You might not have been right behind them anymore, but you definitely weren’t gone.

As if you had been reading his thoughts, the van came to a screeching halt. Happy and the other man in the seat row with him toppled forward, smacking against the seats in front of them. He heard the thudding of the man riding shotgun slamming his hands against the dash to brace themselves. All four of them were cursing as they tried to get themselves right again. Happy didn’t know if being completely in the dark made it harder or easier to do that.

“Son of a bitch!” the man riding shotgun yelled out.

Happy heard the guy next to him take a deep breath, most likely gearing up for some snide comment or more cursing, but he never got the chance as someone started shooting. Happy heard the first two hit the glass of the windshield and he immediately sunk down in his seat. It had to be you. He heard the guys firing back from inside the van, and he did what little he could do given his current circumstances and he threw his body against that of the man sitting next to him. He was rewarded with the sound of the man’s gun clattering to the floor and the guy cursing as he set himself loose on Happy, grabbing him and landing whatever blows he could as the gunfire continued.

Happy was as defenseless as he’d ever been with his hands bound behind his back and his head still covered with the hood. He was trying to kick but his ankles being tied made that difficult too. He tried to squirm and keep moving, anything to keep the hits from landing directly.

Even with all the chaos, it was impossible to miss the sound of a bullet burying itself into someone’s skull. When it happened, the entire van was still and silent for all of a couple seconds before the chaos picked back up and was even more intense.

A few moments after that, there was the sound of the vehicle doors being ripped open. There was screaming and grunting and gunshots, and Happy was just hoping that you were coming out on the winning end of it all.

“Get on the fucking ground!” you yelled as you put a bullet into the kneecap of the man that you’d forcefully pulled out of the passenger seat.

Happy had never been so relieved to hear your rage. He was so distracted by the sound of you that when he heard the back door of the van open and someone grab onto him, he automatically assumed it was another threat. If it wasn’t you that was getting him out, he couldn’t help but to think that it was someone else who had the intention of hurting him.

He thrashed as much as he could until the person spoke up. “Hap, shit, stop, it’s me,” Juice was trying to cut the ropes on Happy’s wrists, or at least pull the hood off his head, but the constant movement made both of those things difficult.

Juice’s voice wasn’t the one that Happy was expecting to hear, but it still got him to stop fighting against the assistance. There was the sound of another gunshot and then Juice finally pulled the hood off so that Happy could see. The sun was blinding, a jarring shift from the hours of darkness he’d just endured, but he wasn’t upset about it. The first thing he saw was the man that Juice had shot and killed slumped in the back seat. Once he realized that he wasn’t going to be an immediate threat, he turned his head, looking around for you as he squinted against the harsh light.

That’s when he saw you, leaning over the man who had been sitting in the passenger seat. You’d shot out both of the guy’s legs. You had your knee pinned to his chest as you leaned over him, the mouth of your gun pressed harshly beneath the man’s chin. Even though there was distance between you, Happy could see the way you were breathing heavily, he could feel the rage coming off of you.

Even though he knew that Juice was trying to free him, Happy was still having a hard time sitting still to let it happen when he knew that you were so close. Juice huffed in annoyance behind him as he tried to do his job without slicing open one of Happy’s wrists in the process. “Hold still for five seconds, Happy. Seriously.”

None of Happy’s attention was focused on himself or Juice anymore though, not when he could hear the conversation happening a few feet away.

“Who the fuck are you?” the man spat out.

You wanted to make a comment to the effect of, “I should be the one asking you that,” but then you realized that you didn’t particularly care who this guy was. You didn’t really care why he wanted Happy. You knew perfectly well that the man you were with had more enemies than smiley face tattoos. It wasn’t surprising that he had landed himself in hot water.

Juice had cut the ties around Happy’s wrists and was just about to be done with the ones around his ankles when you pulled the trigger on your gun one more time, causing the man’s head to snap back as the bullet went clean through it from bottom to top.

“Fuck,” Juice said with a shake of his head as he finally cut through the last of the rope.

The second Happy was free, he was up on his feet and making his way over to you. He wasn’t running, but you could see the determination in his stride and the set of his shoulders. When he got over to you, he held out his hand to help you up from your position of kneeling on the man’s dead body. You tucked your gun back into its holster before slapping your hand into his, both of you tightening your grips as he helped pull you back up onto your feet.

The second you were completely upright, Happy stepped in like he was going to kiss you, but you stopped him as you pressed your palm against your chest. He opened his mouth to ask you what was going on, but you quickly moved your hand up and cupped his chin in your hand before tilting his head up slightly. You saw the cut running along the side of his throat and you frowned.

Once Happy realized what you were doing and looking at, his body relaxed a little bit. He almost started laughing. All the things that had happened in the last few hours and this was what you were getting hung up on. “I’m fine.”

You rolled your eyes as you let go of his chin. “Of course you’re going to say that.”

The two of you were about to start getting into it in the middle of all the carnage you’d caused when Juice interjected himself into your conversation. “Hey, guys, we gotta…we gotta go.”

Just as he said that, you heard the sirens in the distance. That was fair, and expected after all the gunshots. You pointed at Happy accusingly. “This conversation isn’t over.”

Happy knew better than to argue with you. “Alright.”

It was a quiet drive home. You dropped Juice back off at his place with a quick thank you and a promise to reach out to him later. As the two of you drove back to Happy’s you could feel him looking at you from the passenger seat but you didn’t say anything about it. You knew that he probably had his fair share of questions, and you certainly had your own, but right now all you wanted to do was get back home. All of the questions and the conversations could wait until later, preferably until tomorrow. You didn’t say anything as you drove, but it didn’t stop you from reaching over and resting your hand on top of his on the console, careful not to touch the scraped and bloodied parts of his wrists where the rope had been digging into him only a little while before.

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