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obxsummer · 2 months ago

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bruises // ghost of you

pairing: jj maybank x routledge!reader

summary: the pogues go searching for jj while sarah volunteers for babysitter duty, lots of therapy conversations happen, and john b's crash out starts right now

warnings: lowkey a filler chap, lots of sappy conversations, minor john b crashout

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John B had his work cut out for him. Not only was JJ not here to be an extra set of eyes on you, considering you were practically dead in his arms hours ago, but Sarah was pregnant, and he was not happy about either of you tagging along on this adventure. Stakes were higher than ever and now that they knew Groff was unhinged beyond their initial thoughts, everything was risky.

The only thing he had going, was Sarah practically refused to move from your side. After a bit of persuasion and a promise that they would come back tonight, she agreed on hanging back with you as the rest of the group went in search of JJ.

You weren’t happy at the idea of being left out, but you were exhausted and John B was quick to clock your slight incohesion. Pope confirmed it was common after the lack of oxygen to the brain and you just needed to take things slow, so you agreed. If the group was going to Morocco, you needed to be at your best.

John B was hesitant to leave you both, considering everything that happened the last time he’d left you here. All of the Pogues were hesitant to get on the boat, actually. The past few hours were really scary, but JJ was missing and no Pogue was ever left behind, so they had to go.

Pope was up on the lookout deck, his eyes scanning the sunset covered water for any sign of movement. Cleo was next to John B as he drove steadily, too scared to go any faster in case he missed something. The dark-haired girl was looking closely through a pair of binoculars, but it was difficult with the sun reflecting off the water. That left Kie to huddle around your phone screen where JJ’s location had stopped responding, the 2 hours ago next to his name haunting them. There was nothing in sight, but his location had to be in this general area.

The unexpected part, was how quiet John B had been. He’d been unusually silent when making a game plan and shoving everything into backpacks. It was obvious there was a lolt going through his mind. He’d come way too close to loosing each and every one in the group, but to have both you and Sarah lifeless in front of him was too much, way too much to handle, and he was having a tough time wrapping his head around it.

“He’s gotta be somewhere around here!” Kiara called back to John B as she glanced at your phone. There wasn’t much to say, all of their thoughts focused on getting JJ and getting the group back together.

And then John B heard it, faintly, but it was enough to make him perk up with more hope than before.

“I see him!” Pope shouted from above, his finger pointing out in the general direction ahead of the boat. “He’s over there! Keep it steady, John B.”

Your friends moved instantly, Cleo leaving your brother to help where she could as Pope climbed down from above. Kiara yelled JJ’s name, and John B could barely make out his figure in the water as the boat floated closer. Pope and Cleo moved with clean motions to haul him up on the back of the deck.

“What the hell happened?” John B asked as he crouched in front of him, eyes instantly going to the red color taking over the lower portion of his abdomen where his hand was barely hovering. Cleo’s hand fell against it wordlessly, applying enough pressure that he groaned in pain.

“Groff,” JJ grunted when she pushed down further and Pope winced at the sound. He knew the bloodflow would slow with more pressure, but he really wasn’t a fan of any of you being in pain. The important part was JJ was alive.

Cleo eventually managed to slow the bleeding enough that JJ could sit up slightly, being careful not to shift too fast in risk of reopening the skin. Kiara watched him carefully, knowing shit was about to hit the fan in the few seconds it took for JJ to realize you weren’t there.

“You okay?” John B asked as Pope took over steering the boat back home.

JJ let out a deep breath, finally taking in what was in front of him now that he could focus. “‘M fine. Where are the girls?” He looked to John B for an answer, considering both you and Sarah were his to watch.

The slightest tug on his best friend’s lips was enough of an answer before JJ demanded to be home, now.

You and Sarah had been pretty quiet all evening. Not that you could say much to begin with, but whatever show she had turned on was at least keeping you from a spiraling mind. Pope had sent a text that they found him, the news slightly delayed by the lack of service in the open water, but it was enough relief to the two of you that you couldn’t sit still.

“Here,” Sarah handed you a cough drop in hopes of soothing your throat. You nodded in appreciation, popping the hard piece in your mouth and resuming your stare out at the water.

Sarah plopped on the hammock next to you and tucked her feet up. The TV was still playing in the background but it no longer held her interest. She was doing her best to keep you occupied, but if she was being honest, it helped her too. There hadn’t been much time to really process the fact that she would soon be responsible for someone other than herself. Sure, there was still a lot of time to go, but the whole idea of growing a human in her own body was crazy.

“You feel any better?” She asked softly. Pope had given her a list of things to look out for, so she checked in often but didn’t want to annoy you.

You nodded, and really meant it. Your chest was still sore but slowly improving with the medicine in your body. Your headache had thankfully disappeared and you were still able to recount everything that happened. It was the mental effects of it all that you knew would take time. It wasn’t healthy, the way your group went through these life altering moments and brushed them off like it was an everyday occurrence. You could run through the insane list, but it wouldn’t make you feel any better, especially when you had a feeling it would continue to grow much to your dismay.

The second you caught sight of the approaching boat, both you and Sarah were fumbling out of the hammock, slight laughter following the chaos as you guys rushed to meet the group at the dock. You weren’t sure how JJ was going to react to everything, and you were more nervous about him feeling guilty than anything else.

The nerves turned into concern when you watched John B help JJ stand and lean against him so they could hobble their way up the dock. You moved past the others to intercept your brother and fiancé, who was holding his side carefully.

“Careful,” John B warned when you took JJ’s other side, the two of you helping the exhausted boy up to the bait shop. His shirt was wet and cold, and the small gasps leaving his mouth made you want to cry, knowing he likely got left in the water for who knows how long.

JJ managed to pull himself up on the counter when you patted the surface wordlessly. You reached for the first aid kit beneath the counter, giving your brother a pointed look. You weren’t sure if he already told JJ what happened, but considering the boy in front of you wasn’t losing his shit, you figured nothing had been shared. But it was only a matter of time before JJ picked up on the fact that you were unusually quiet.

You tugged on his shirt, helping him pull it off before your hands went to work inthe first aid kit to clean the wound properly.

“Got me with the damn anchor,” JJ cursed as you brushed a particularly sore spot while trying to clean the outside. “He wanted to run to Morroco without you guys. Told him no, I wasn’t stealing and he flipped.”

“So he has the map and the lens?” John B asked, keeping his eyes on you as you moved fluidly with your work. He wasn’t sure at what point you became so good at patching all of them up, and quite frankly, it made him sick to his stomach to think about.

JJ nodded. “Yep. Not sure how he got the scroll, actually. Meant to ask you,.” His attention turned to you. “What happened? Did he show up?”

You glanced up at him and your luck ran out at that moment. At this angle, JJ could clearly make out the hand shaped bruise on your neck and his vision went red. His fingers were so gentle on your chin as he titled your head back further, a lump growing in throat at the sight of it. “Who did this to you?”

You blinked away tears and tore the packaging off the antiseptic spray, attempting to ignore the question, but also knowing better.

JJ whispered your name, his hand trying to stop your work on his waist to pull your attention back. “Did he do it?”

“She sent an SOS text, dude.” There was a hint of anger in John B’s voice as he took a step closer. His emotions were winning over his head, and suddenly he was pissed. “Your dad came back here. Knocked out Kie before he came outside and went after her. Busted the Twinkie window with her head. Locked her in the fucking cooler. JJ, I gave her CPR!”

You took a step back when John B got too close to you and JJ. There had been plenty of times when John B acted out like this, and you always blamed it on him inheriting your dad’s quick-to-anger attitude. But now? You weren’t in the condition to hold him back and his misplaced anger was directed toward JJ.

“CPR?” JJ repeated the phrase, his eyes teary as he looked over at you. You blinked, for once at a loss for words (not that you really had any). “What?”

John B’s arm swiped across the counter, clearing it of half the little knicknacks you loved to organize. They came falling with a crash and you jumped, staring at him in shock.

“She wasn’t breathing! Fucking lifeless, and cold, and she wasn’t breathing,” Your brother was yelling now, a fury in his eyes as he recounted the events that just occurred hours ago. “I thought she was dead, and you weren’t… you weren’t even here. We needed you, she-I… I needed you.”

JJ was moving before you had a chance to, pulling John B into a tight hug as your brother fell into a fit of sobs. You were shocked, having no idea this scared him so badly, and then you felt selfish and guilty that you had been the source of that feeling.

Sarah had come in at the sound of yelling, having been recounting everything with Kie, Pope, and Cleo outside when John B’s voice took over. She wasn’t necessarily prepared for the two boys to be wrapped in an embrace, but she was understanding regardless. John B had been shaking since he pulled you off the floor of the surf shop hours ago, and despite Sarah’s best efforts, she knew nothing would calm him until he got these emotions out in the open.

The boys were holding their own quiet talk so you resorted to cleaning up the first aid garbage, suddenly unaware of what to do in this kind of scenario. You weren’t a stranger to JJ and John B’s friendship, but their conversations were never regarding something this heavy. This is what you did best though, deflect and retreat back into your own mind, leaving them to figure this out on their own.

Sarah watched you move around quietly, realizing shit had probably hit the fan between the two boys and you didn’t even have a moment to explain. She knew from experience you didn’t handle stuff like this well, especially when it regarded you because you would feel like it was attention seeking.

Taking the steps toward you, Sarah cleaned up the remaining pieces of the first aid kit and stashed it back under the counter as you stood silently. She grabbed your arm gently, slipping her hand down until her fingers intertwined with yours and she could pull you from the bait shop to let John B and JJ have their moment.

You followed her easily, figuring she wouldn’t have pulled you away if she thought it was the wrong idea and continued back into the house. Cleo was already up at the stove, conjuring up some meal she’d learned while directing Pope as her executive sous chef.

It didn’t take long for the rest of the group to filter into the somewhat normal routine, each person taking up their dedicated task around dinner time. The large table somehow managed to fit all of you amongst the plates and silverware. You took your usual spot next to JJ, neither of you really speaking, but his hand on your thigh said enough in the moment.

You let the group carry conversation, praying nobody would bring your name into this shit mess where you’d have to attempt to explain yourself. It felt like a broken record in your head - something happens, there’s a misunderstanding/argument, a breakdown, you apologize and cry, then go to bed. And it just kept repeating and repeating and repeating. Every time you told yourself you could move forward, something grabbed you and pulled back just as hard.

You waited until most of the group had finished eating before starting to clean up, your part of the dinner chores alongside John B of all people, because neither of you could cook to save your life. The group slowly shuffled out, JJ giving you a squeeze and a quick kiss, whispering to talk in a few. You moved around the kitchen fluidly, but paused when John B set your nearly full plate in front of you on the counter.

“Hey.” He was gentle as he pulled the dirty plate you were washing from your hands to set it in the sink. His free hand shut the water off, Kie’s voice in the back of his head telling him not to waste it. You almost wanted to laugh at how dad-like he looked with the dish towel over his shoulder and a hand on his hip (okay Steve Harrington). John B pointed to your plate to prove a point. “Skipping meals isn’t something we do in this house, you know?”

You nearly rolled your eyes but figured it would be better not to. “Sorry.”

John B winced at the raspy tone in your voice, but even he had to admit you sounded better than earlier. He sighed and tugged at his hair. “I’m sorry if I scared you earlier, just…um. Lot on the brain, you know? You, Sarah, JJ missing and-”

“I can take care of myself, John B,” You whispered.

His heart fucking broke.

He knew you didn’t mean it poorly, and he tried to remind himself that you had been through a lot today, but John B was more emotional than he had been in a really long time, so hearing that from you…

You noticed the instant tears in his eyes and felt horrible. It was easy to get caught in defense mode and listen to the desire of shutting people out so nobody can hurt you but yourself. You’d tried to remove that aspect of your healing process, but it had been the hardest one to beat.

“I know you can,” He replied like you hadn’t just metaphorically stabbed him in the chest with your words. “Thanks for that reminder, oh-”

His sarcastic comeback was interrupted by you landing against him and hugging him tightly, all his fears floating out the door with your embrace.

“I can take care of myself, but that doesn’t mean I ever stopped needing you,” You clarified as he returned the hug with as much pressure, the physical touch healing pieces of you that neither wanted to mention. As long as you were here, you would need John B, and he needed you. The world had done a lot to pull you apart (and shit, do we mean a lot?), but you’d survived it all so far.

Before Sarah, before this treasure hunt started, before the Pogues came about, John B was a big brother. Had been one actually, for as long as he could remember. You were a year and a half younger than him, so all he really could remember was being your big brother. Granted, he wasn’t always good at it, but he tried his best and he really didn’t want to mess up now, not when you needed each other most.

“I thought y’all didn’t do sappy shit?”

You turned your head against John B’s chest to see JJ leaning against the staircase watching the two of you. He had clearly gotten a shower and was looking refreshed. Your brother huffed, feigning annoyance, “First time for everything, I guess.”

“Mind if I steal my girl?”

“One Direction headass,” You mumbled as John B’s hand rubbed across your back before he separated, letting you go so you could cross the room. Your fingers were cold against JJ’s warm skin, lightly brushing under his shirt where you could feel the rough texture of fresh bandages, likely from Pope’s precise hands.

JJ’s arm fell across your shoulders softly, his fingers lightly pinching your skin before he gave John B an affirming nod and started toward the door with you in grasp. The air was a little chilly, the rumble of thunder nearby telling you a storm was pushing its way in and would provide you a good lullaby for the night.

JJ tumbled into your large outdoor egg chair, his hands tugging your waist to bring you with him and you laughed, being careful to watch his side as you straddled his lap and placed your hands on his shoulders. His eyes were a shady blue, full of relief and appreciation as he looked up at you.

“Hi.” You broke the surrounding silence, your fingers playing with the strands of hair against his neck. He was in desperate need of a haircut if you had any say in it, but there simply wasn’t time.

Closing the distance between the two of you, your lips met his softly, his hands wandering across your lower back to pull you even closer as if you weren’t already laying across him. Your mind went quiet, competely occupied with the boy in your hands and the way he seemed to hold your entire universe. When a small gasp left his mouth, you shifted back, scared you moved too much and were irritating his side.

He shook his head at your worried expression when he met your gaze. JJ’s finger brushed back a piece of hair, his lips pulling into a smile just for a moment before he frowned again. “Hi, sweet girl.”

“It’s okay,” You reassured when you realized he was focused on the bruising around your face and neck, his fingers light as they brushed over the coloration.

He shook his head sadly. “No, it’s not. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have left with him.”

You pulled his hand from your cheek and kissed his palm, holding it between yours. “Jayj, in no way whatsoever, was anything that happened today your fault. You had no idea, none of us did.”

Whether the shakiness in your voice surprised him or not, you couldn’t tell. He sighed, letting his head drop just below your chest, thankfully far enough away from where John B and Pope’s hands had been. You could feel the tightness and bruising with each motion, so you could only imagine how rough it would look after tonight. It wasn’t extremely painful, just annoying enough that you didn’t want to move too quickly and shift more than needed.

“You had a bad feeling and I didn’t listen,” He spoke, moreso to himself than you, but you heard it nonetheless.

“Look at me.” When he listened, you gently cupped his face with your hands. “I love you so much, and I would never ever blame you for someone else’s actions, whether you had control over it or not. Understand?”

He gave a weak nod, still in his head about everything and you knew it would take time to process it all, so you didn’t push. You wanted to point out that things didn’t necessarily go well on his side either considering he came back with a bloody waist and was left stranded in the ocean, but you figured he got the gist.

“Can I see?” The question was so quiet you almost didn’t hear it and blinked at him. His gaze was on the bruising again and you sighed.

“J-”

“Please?”

The crack in his voice made you want to cry but you knew if roles were reversed and your dad hurt him, you’d want to see too.

You shrugged the arms of the sweatshirt off and JJ took over, slowly pulling the material from your frame to leave you in sweatpants and sleep tank. It was low cut enough in the neck that the full aftermath of this afternoon was in view.

The purplish-blue tint to your skin was weird to see, but it was almost relieving to know your body was working to heal. Your breath was shaky as you took in the sight for yourself for the first time and everything seemed to hit you like a wrecking ball.

You had died. For a moment of time, you weren’t breathing and your heart had stopped.

“C’mere.”

JJ anticipated a breakdown from the moment he saw you on the dock. While John B didn’t tell him anything, he knew you were on a build-up from the rollercoaster of the past few days and hadn’t had time to process it all through. From everything with Rafe and Charleston, to getting engaged, to his so-called father putting hands on you… it was a lot, and even JJ wasn’t sure he understood it all.

It hurt to breathe as you sobbed into JJ’s chest, every inch of your body so tense and rattled with anxiety that you couldn’t bring yourself to stop. “I-I.. was so scared, and-”

“Shh, just breathe, baby.”

JJ held you tightly but kept a careful eye so that he didn’t squeeze too harshly. It had been a while since the two of you had a good cry session (it’s healthy, by the way), so he knew you were overdue. You hated crying, and he did too. But your therapy sessions promised it would help release pent-up emotions and you could feel it.

Sometimes, you just needed a release, and JJ was always happy to hold you through it.

You settled down a few moments later, overwhelmed with your tears that the day was finally catching up to you. JJ didn’t appreciate your joke that you’d taken a good nap earlier, but the roll of his eyes told you he understood your humor to cope.

After a while, JJ helped you wiggle back into your sweatshirt and soon enough, your friends trickled outside. Pope set to work started a bonfire for the group, various blankets being passed around. Even though summer was trickling into the fall, the water always created a cool breeze that made you want to curl up under the fabric.

John B paused to kiss your forehead before settling into the bench chair with Sarah under his arm. Kie fumbled with the joint in her hands, cursing softly to herself as she fucked with the lighter. Cleo eventually pulled the worn lighter out of her hands and handed her a new one that sparked instantly, and Kiara literally sighed in relief.

“Morocco, huh?” John B’s attempt at breaking the silence made you burst into laughter, a few chuckles falling from your friends. Your brother faked offense at your reaction and it made you laugh even harder.

JJ smiled as your laughter shook him too, the mood shifting to a much lighter one. Everyone fell into their normal ease, jokes and one liners flowing like your usual chaos. This normalcy was the one you’d craved for so long. To just be carefree, comfortable, and home where you were surrounded by people you loved.

You knew better, though.

Moments like these were always the calm before the storm, and whatever awaited you tomorrow would be nowhere near as kind to you as this.

a/n: sorry this was probably so boring and short, i couldn't get my brain to do anything LOL but buckle up for next one ;)

song for the chap: bruises by queen reneé

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#outer banks x reader #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #goy series #outer banks imagine #jj maybank imagine #john b routledge #outer banks #jj x reader #outer banks series #obx x you #jj maybank x you #routledge!reader #outer banks jj #obx jj #obx #obx4 #obx netflix

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eureka-its-zico · 1 year ago

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Chaos in Their Bones Ch. 4

Ongoing Series

Synopsis: All your life you’d listened to your friend, Usopp spin wild tales about pirates and adventure. Pirates weren’t a thing that came often to Syrup Village, but one straw hat pirate and his crew changed all that the day they arrived. Now, you aren’t so sure if your sleepy little village was always pirate-free or if no one had been paying attention.

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x Reader

Genre: friends to lovers, frenemies to lovers, slow burn (I hope y’all like aching) eventual smut

Words: 8.7+

A/N: This chapter is mostly filler from 1.04-1.05. This chapter also, once again has a POV from Zoro. I kept going through my options of what I could do to possibly give these two idiots more alone time and this was the result. The beginning, and introduction, of Sanji begins right at Chapter 5 and I already have too many ✨ideas ✨ that I know what to do with. Also, I did add in Zoro working out. It’s a brief mention, but I just found it weird he didn’t have any of those scenes (probably for damn good reason). As always, thank you guys for all the love and support. I hope you all continue to enjoy this story🖤 Much Love, Jenn

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Previous Next

“I don’t know, Doc. You’re starting to look a little pale.”

“And green.”

You’d been hugging the side of this particular railing since you’d sailed out of port. It was your first time ever on a ship and it wasn’t going too great. You’d heard about seasickness and even had sailors come asking for Naan’s Elfroot to chew to stem the tide while they were out at sea. You always thought they were being ridiculous. How bad could it be?

Well, if your dry heaving was any indication - pretty bad. Of course, Zoro just had to make it worse.

You glanced up from looking at the water that was gently tapping the side of the boat to the growing bane of your existence. One hand was tucked into the pocket of his jeans while the other rested on the hilt of his swords. He looked effortlessly cool as he watched you with - was that a smirk?

He’d changed into a yellow shirt with fine detailing of gray lines running horizontally and vertically, which matched perfectly with his gray pants.

Zoro was more of a fashionista than he’d let on.

“It’s just the reflection of your hair,” you shot back at him.

You could feel the next wave of nausea thrashing around in your stomach and you prayed you could keep it down. You were going to lose more cool points if you hurled again. Zoro squinted over the sun's rays to regard your current state. He must have been able to tell you were 0.2 seconds from hurling because, instead of replying, he simply twirled his finger indicating for you to turn around.

You did as he instructed, but made sure to follow it up with a middle finger salute.

“Man, you two always like this? You just met.” Usopp asked.

Usopp tried doing the dotting friend routine by patting you a few times, awkwardly, on your back. It felt more like he was trying to get a burp out of you than soothe you.

“It’s because they like each other.”

Nami pranced out of the galley and chose violence. It only took both you and Zoro to register her words before you both shouted:

“I don’t like her.”

“I hate him!”

Nami wrapped her arms around herself as she looked you both over. A devious smile tilting the edges of her mouth and you had to look away before it turned into the shit eating grin you’d come to expect.

“I’m sure you both do,” she teased.

You wanted to prove to her that you meant it. Zoro would be the last person you would say you liked, like- like that. The man was literally the biggest pain in the ass you’d ever met.

“Usopp,” you croaked, “can you get my bag, please.”

“I’m on it, Doc.”

At the sound of his feet hitting the deck, a groan of discomfort resonated in your chest. How could anyone think that sailing was fun? This felt like the absolute worst.

When you first entered the Going Merry you couldn’t believe how beautiful it was. You’d heard Usopp tell you stories since he cleaned it everyday. It was as finely crafted as he’d described, and the white ashwood against the walnut was a stark contrast but complemented each other beautifully. There wasn’t another ship like the Going Merry and a one-of-a-kind ship should belong to someone as extraordinary as Luffy.

The minute you’d cast off into the giant blue you’d almost panicked. What if this was a mistake? You’d never been out in open water before nor had you ever left Syrup village. This could either be one of the greatest adventures of your life or a disaster. The only thing that kept you from flinging yourself over the side and swimming back was when you’d walked the stern and the glint of the sun shone down on the water.

The sun’s rays illuminated the water like light reflecting off a crystal glass. One minute it was the deepest blue. The color was solid enough that your reflection was easy to see and in a matter of seconds after a ray of light touched its water, it took on a cornflower hue that made the water translucent.

You’d been able to admire it for all of three seconds before you were embarrassing yourself over the port bow.

“I’m back, Doc,” Usopp spoke softly as he placed a soft hand on your shoulder. He lightly tapped the bag against your hands to try and coax you to grab it. “Do you need me to get you water or anything?”

“Water is not going to help. It’ll make it worse.”

You thought he was trying just to be his usual monotoned “Hi, I’m Zoro and I could care less,” self, but when you finally peeled your forehead off your forearm and looked at him he wasn’t even looking at either of you. He was curled up, like a lazy cat, against a couple of crates with his eyes closed and faced tilted towards the sun. With his hands infamously stuffed inside his pockets.

“It would?”

You nodded your head only once in recognition before you started searching through your bag. Your hands started scrambling inside it a soft, “No,no,” building into a frenzy before you stopped searching.

“I’m guessing your magic little root isn’t in there.”

Zoro was still sitting without a care while you felt like you wanted to throw yourself overboard.

“No. It isn’t.”

Mental note: Ask Luffy to stop at Irkhaven Isle to get supplies.

Suddenly, Zoro stood in one graceful motion and walked off towards the galley.

Ass.

You turned back to the Going Merry’s railing and held on tight. Your stomach felt like you’d swallowed glass and got punched, it was so empty. Another groan was building in your chest when a cold bottle touched the back of your arm.

The coolness to your skin sent a yelp of surprise from you, and sent you whirling to the presence beside you. Zoro was leaning back against the railing, looking as calm as ever, with a beer extended out between you.

“Isn’t it a little bit too early to be drinking?”

He rolled his eyes as he switched positions. He was now mimicking your current position against the rail but looked effortless and was still holding that damn beer out to you.

“It’s for you.”

“For me? Zoro, I don’t think now is the time to be drinking-“

“Just drink it,” he growled, an obvious annoyance replacing his earlier calm.

What hell, what was a beer going to do? At most, it would at least give your stomach something to actually throw up instead of dry heaving yourself into a six pack.

You reached out and took it from him. Zoro continued to watch you as you placed the bottle to your lips, waiting for you to take a sip.

“Could I get some privacy here?”

Zoro rolled his eyes but did as you asked looking off into the southside of the ship. You took that moment to take a long pull from the bottle. Surprisingly, it was damn good beer. You waited for the bitter aftertaste to kick in, but found it replaced with the tang of citrus. You immediately took another drink and another. It wasn’t until you were halfway to the middle of the bottle that you noticed the ship had been rocked a few times by the waves and yet…

You went to turn your attention back to Zoro and found him already staring at you.

I am not blushing.

You turned quickly to look back out at the ocean with both arms leaning over the railing as you took in the picturesque view. You couldn’t believe beer was making your sea sickness disappear. Out of your peripherals you waited for him to turn away from you. Unable to say it to his face as you played with the label that was peeling off from condensation.

Alcohol. It was brilliant. You were sure your body was still feeling sick, but the depressant in the beer wasn’t allowing those receptors to acknowledge it. Tilting the bottle at him you asked, “How’d you know this would work.”

“It’s how I survived all my boat trips. Old guy I’d met aboard my first ship when I was seventeen taught me that trick.”

“Is that why you have so much booze? Cause you have a weak stomach?”

Your question came off worse than you intended. You genuinely weren’t trying to insult him. He’d just helped you. Zoro has helped you.

“No. I just like to drink.”

His tone was void of all emotion. The little bit he’d given you quickly washed away and you wanted to kick yourself.

Foot meet mouth. Mouth meets foot.

You weren’t very good at this. The only friend you’d ever actually had was Usopp. The both of you know the tone of the other and every secret in between. You’d tried to make friends with the other kids in town, but holding up a frog as a friendship gift didn’t seem to go over too well. And on that wonderful trip down memory lane…

You straightened up and took a smaller sip from the beer before you leaned down to pick up your abandoned satchel.

“Thank you, Zoro.”

The both of you stared at the other until the silence was washed out by the squawking of seagulls and the rush of water. Even now in this weird game of chicken, you knew you would be the first to give. His dark eyes staring straight through you until you felt exposed. You tipped the bottle for good measure and turned on your heel to make your way inside the safety of the kitchen. Your hand clutching the bottle close as your brain tried to make sense of what happened.

Zoro helped you. He didn’t have too and for all intents and purposes you were surprised he didn’t just let you suffer, but he’d chosen not to. What did that even mean? He was just being friendly. It didn’t mean anything more than that.

Instead of dwelling on the question, you sat down in the corner booth and took another pull from the bottle.

——————-

After you finished your first bottle, you found another, and another until you’d ended up blissfully passed out in the booth. You were vaguely aware that Luffy and the crew had come into the galley at some point. The sound of Usopp and Luffy struggling to talk over the other was what forced you out of your nap.

“We all know who the Captain is.”

“It’s me.”

Two voices rang out as one with each ending in a high-pitch of surprise. It was his first day and already Usopp was trying to stir up mutiny on the ship. If you weren’t interested in staying unconscious you were positive you would’ve smiled.

“Just call me Captain Usopp.”

“We already know I’m the Captain.”

It didn’t surprise you they were still giving out declarations of who was Captain. You waited for it to become a campaign, like when Townsfolk ran for Mayor, but the sound of Nami’s laughter followed by - was that Zoro?! - ended both men’s rant.

“See, this is what it’s all about,” Luffy’s voice chimed in. “From now it’s going to be smooth sailing.”

He was his usual happy sounding self. You were willing to bet it was infectious, making everyone’s earlier laughter remain in the small creases by their eyes and the raise of their lips. Luffy was indeed a Captain and one of the best kind.

Enjoying the moment abruptly ended, however, when you caught the sound of a whistle outside. It grew more intense by the second. Whatever it was, was slicing through the air with a force that was audible. You weren’t sure why it took so long for your brain to register that it wasn’t a natural sound. It was rectified, however, when something violently slammed into the Going Merry and sent everything trembling.

Your back immediately shot up off the cushion of the booth. Eyes open wide as you stumble to your feet watching Nami and Zoro do the same.

“What in the hell was that?”

“Luffy opening his damn mouth,” Nami replied as you followed behind her.

You were wondering how Luffy’s mouth could have anything to do with the current sounds coming from outside. Your response died in your throat the minute you got out onto the deck. You followed them to the stern of the ship and finally saw what was waiting for you all was a very large, very metal, Marine vessel trailing behind you.

All the blood drained from your body and whatever buzz you’d had left over from earlier was now completely gone.

“It’s the marines! We’re under attack!”

Nami rushed to the wheel to begin to try evasive maneuvers to get you all out of the way of the oncoming cannonballs. Another shot rang out from the marine vessel and you waited to be struck by steaming metal and found yourself vaguely relieved when it crashed into the ocean a few feet from you.

“How did they find us?”

“Does it matter? They’re trying to blow us out of the water!”

What the hell were you supposed to do?

What in the hell could anyone do against being shot at by cannons and a marine vessel that was gaining on your small ship by the second. You could see three figures standing at the bow of the ship, eerily watching as if waiting for something - or someone - to appear.

Luffy grabbed the telescope and peered through the lens. You all waited for him to give an order and what he said next surprised everyone.

“Grandpa?”

“Grandpa!”

“Did you just call that guy grandpa?” Zoro asked, his eyes carefully watching Luffy as he glanced through the telescope back at the ship.

He didn’t answer right away. The sound of another shot being fired made all of you space out from one another. You could feel the tension singing through your nerves. The adrenaline was demanding you to move or do something else besides just hopelessly stand like a damn target. The fight or flight in you erupted to life with one key thought hoarding every inch of clarity besides one: run.

This time when the cannon came crashing down it came right at the edge of the stern. An eruption of water covering you in a fine mist of water. You didn’t get a chance to decide on what to do when another shot rang out.

“Hit the deck!”

Usopp’s scream was frantic enough you didn’t ask why, and did as he instructed and became one with the wood. Seconds later, the sound of speeding metal whizzed by you and smashed into the railing behind sending wood fragments everywhere.

You couldn’t stop the scream that tore its way from your lips as your body curled in on itself.

What the hell did I sign up for?

You could hear the sounds of feet clumsily finding their footing again as everyone began to get up. You wanted to stay where you were, but the sharp sound of Zoro calling you a coward resonated inside your chest.

You could do this. You could totally hundred-percent do this.

It was your turn to begin to get up from your place on the stern deck, and just as you moved to your knees someone offered their hand for you to take. Color you shocked when you looked up to find that hand was attached to Zoro. You must have been staring too long because he looked away, hand still out, and grumbled, “You going to keep staring at it or take it?”

Yup, and there was the Zoro you’d grown to know and loathe.

“It just burns you up inside to be so helpful, doesn’t it?”

Your voice oozed with sarcasm as you took his hand - maybe a bit too aggressively - and started to get up. Zoro saw your passive-aggressive hand smack and did you one better. He pulled you quickly to your feet, but that quickness came at the cost of your balance. Your feet couldn’t catch their footing back on the deck and you ended haphazardly colliding into his chest.

As fast as it happened, it was equally as fast that you both dislocated yourselves from each other.

“Is everybody okay?”

“I think so.”

“No. Not okay. Not even close to okay.”

“I second, Usopp,” you said.

You weren’t sure why you raised your hand. It could’ve been you just really needed them to know that no - no, this was definitely not okay.

Luffy took your concerns with a grain of salt, however, and ran over to the cannon - the only cannon - on deck. You’d only just meet him, but Luffy didn’t strike you as someone who held onto any ill will. So, you were surprised to see the determination burn in his eyes and the scowl to cross his face.

What did your grandpa do to you?

If you weren’t mortally in danger of drowning at any minute or being shredded in half by a cannonball, you might have asked.

“Usopp! Fire back at them!”

“Or how about we sail away as fast as we can?”

“I like that idea, actually,” you chimed in, a hand scratching the back of your neck. “That’s a solid plan if I ever heard one, Usopp.”

“Run from the marines?”

Luffy looked between the three of you. He couldn’t believe that Usopp, Nami, and you were apparently so quick to not want to put up much of a fight. You did enjoy not being a sea decoration.

“No. Never! Nami trim the…sail thing. Let’s sink their ship!”

“Wait, what? Are you crazy?”

You had to back up to stand next to Zoro as Luffy waved for Usopp to join him on the stern. The two of them grabbed a hold of the cannon to bring it towards an opening in the back.

“Let’s sink their ship.”

“Luffy, we don’t have time for this!” Nami interjected, but Luffy wasn’t listening. “They’re going to come up alongside us! If they do, we are finished.”

“Our odds keep sounding better and better,” you mumbled as you made your way over to Nami.

“You are our Navigator. Do something.”

Nami let out a groan before her whole demeanor changed. No longer was she trying to flee or get Luffy to see reason. Suddenly, she turned to Zoro and ordered him to go down and pull the sheet in. He didn’t waste a second before he brushed past you and down the stairs.

You waited for her to order you to do something, anything, but she must have known it would’ve been like explaining math to a baby. You didn’t even know what she’d even just asked Zoro to do. Apparently, neither did he.

“Which way is port?”

A heavy sigh left her as she shouted back, “It’s the left!”

“Have you ever loaded a cannon before?”

“Yeah, yeah I’ve loaded tons of them,” Usopp replied coolly.

You had to give Usopp props. He was literally the master of bullshit and could keep a straight face even though you both knew the only thing he loaded was his imagination.

“This is just a different model I’ve never seen before.”

“Usopp, you load the cannon in the barrel. Light it and then get the hell out of the way!”

Following Nami’s directions, Usopp rushed forward towards the barrel. You thought he was going to make it when the ball slipped out of his hand and landed with a heavy thud on the deck. You rushed forward to grab it before it rolled down the stairs, but didn’t notice Usopp rushing to join you in the hunt. What neither of you failed to notice was that the vibration from dropping the cannonball dislodged the others.

In a split second, you and Usopp collided into one another and when you stepped back to stand up your heel caught a ball. You had barely enough seconds to lean yourself forward as you slipped down the stairs, taking each stair with a thud just like the cannonballs.

Your knees slammed into the edge of one of the stairs, but the balls under your hips kept you slipping. You tried bending your knees to slow your descent only to have them successfully bump every step on the way down.

“Oh shit, Doc are you okay?” Usopp shouted down after you.

“I’m fantastic,” you grunted as you came to a stop before the last steps.

You weren’t trying to remove yourself from the stairs. You could feel the pain in your knees growing with each passing second. You were willing to bet when you stood up, that dull throb that was beginning to resonate under your skin would shoot out like lightning the minute you stood up. Unfortunately, you’d forgotten who was at the bottom of the stairs with you.

“Are you going to get up anytime soon or do you enjoy just laying there?”

You were ready to tell Zoro where he could shove his swords when a gruff voice you’d never heard cut over the chaos.

“Pirate vessel, by order of the marines, lower your sails and submit to my authority.”

You were willing to bet a million berries if that man wasn’t Luffy’s grandpa that wouldn’t even be an offer on any table. Ever. The sound of Zoro’s boots coming closer caused you to peel yourself up just enough before he - did he really just step over you?

“Oh, you asshole,” you seethed.

You scrambled to your feet to chase after him when you noticed another cannonball headed straight for the Merry. But where was the sound of the gunpowder? What felt even more unbelievable was what came after.

Sure, Luffy told you he’d eaten a Devil fruit. He’d told you his body was made of rubber but seeing was believing. You watched as Luffy began to inhale air and his body blew up like a…balloon. Luffy was becoming an actual balloon of skin until the cannonball landed in the center of his stomach. He took the entire impact and flung it back at the marine vessel. One minute, you could hear the return fire whistling through the air. The next, you watched as the crow’s nest above the mast exploded and seconds later it came crashing down.

Everything grew silent aboard the Merry as you all registered what you’d just witnessed. You were still staring at Luffy and back to the now very much on fire marine ship when Usopp’s surprised laughter cut through the silence.

“That was amazing! You just saved us!”

“You didn’t tell me you could do that.”

You could feel your own smile slide across your face as the adrenaline began to bleed away. The aftershocks of the thrill of battle - no matter how unsuccessful - left you feeling ready to do it all again. Or take a nap.

You were joining in on the laughter as you looked back at Nami, and at Usopp who was jumping in excitement with Luffy. You looked over at Zoro and found your earlier excitement drained from your body. Sure, you’d seen him smirk and look like the grumpy cat who ate the canary, but you’d never seen him smile.

Sometime during the battle the wind had tussled up his hair making him appear like he’d just woken from a nap. It made him softer, less broody, and the grin that lit up his face actually reached his eyes and scrunched his nose.

It was safer in the village.

You wanted to say the thought was because of what had just happened. Even as Luffy ordered Nami to get you out of the area, you knew it wasn’t because of the danger. Hell, as much as it was a mess of a first battle, the adrenaline of it all was demanding for a release. Maybe you’d be able to use that as an excuse for why your heart was beating so wildly as you watch Zoro run a hand through his hair.

The ship suddenly felt too constricting. It didn’t allow enough space between you and the swordsman who resided on this ship. You tried to shake your head clear of all those thoughts and turned to run after Luffy. You called his name as you carefully took the stairs down after him.

“Something wrong, Doc?”

“No, no,” you waved him off. “I just - I wanted to ask a favor.”

“You can ask me for anything.”

You weren’t sure if you would ever get over how genuine Luffy was. Every word he said to you he meant it. You could probably tell him you needed the sun, and whether physically attainable or not, you knew Luffy would try his absolute best to bring it to you.

Because Luffy was just that kind of Captain.

“Would it be a bother if we stopped at an island? I’m in need of some supplies.”

———————

Luffy didn’t hesitate to say yes to your request to stop at Irkhaven. It only took you all of four seconds to explain what it was, where it was, and why you needed to go before he sent you to Nami to give her the coordinates. While you’d never physically gone with Naan to harvest the ingredients you’d grown up using, she made sure to tell you often how to get there.

Just in case the day came she couldn’t.

What you hadn’t expected as you walked through fields of lavender was to have Zoro trailing behind you.

“How much longer are we going to be out here?”

“Until I have enough of everything to last us a while,” you called over your shoulder.

You didn’t need to look behind you to know Zoro was shooting daggers into the back of your skull. While he hadn’t been happy being volunteered to go with you onto the island, he hadn’t argued with Luffy either.

You stopped midway out of the lavender fields and took out your small knife to begin cutting gently through the stems. After you had a good enough bundle, you sheathed the knife back in its place on your satchel where you reached inside to grab a pre-cut piece of string.

You could still feel Zoro watching you, as you tied the lavender together in a tight bundle.

“I wasn’t aware picking flowers was life-saving medicine.”

This time you did look over at him. Zoro, the strong and proud pirate hunter. The demon, Luffy said was his nickname. Looking at Zoro now, even in an endless field of lavender, he resonated power. You held no doubt he had earned such an intimidating name through grit and blood-soaked swords.

He looked out of place next to you in a place meant for healing and you couldn’t help but wonder if it was more what he projected than who he was. While Luffy told you happily about the scary parts of Zoro (which Luffy by no means actually saw as scary) he’d also mentioned Zoro never went without a specific sword.

Remembering Luffy’s words, your eyes quickly darted down to the white-sheathed katana. If you had to put money on it, that was the one that held a deeper meaning to him. It was the one he clutched the tightest and his hand fell on absentmindedly.

Once you knew the bundle was secure, you playfully poked it in his direction.

“It does heal. It calms the mind and spirit. It creates restful sleep.”

“It stinks.”

“You are absolutely impossible,” you grumbled, your eyes rolling as you turned away from him.

You placed the bundle inside your satchel and started forward. You didn’t need to look back to know that Zoro would be behind you. This time you were leading him towards an eyeline of trees you’d spotted a few feet back. They looked promising to hold green chiretta.

“So, why did Luffy send you with me?”

You came out first from the field and onto a path that was being taken over by the vegetation.

“Because you don’t know how to protect yourself.”

“I can too.”

“A pot doesn’t count.”

You spun on your heels, satchel swinging, and caught it with your forearm just before it swung into your hip. You were pleased to see the unexpected action had caught him by surprise. Not the typical surprise that Usopp, or others, gave where it might be exaggerated or a gasp and step back. No, Zoro’s was the briefest flinch in the corner of his eyes. Blink and you would’ve missed it.

“Hey, that pot kicked ass.”

“You got lucky.”

“Okay, Mosshead, then what do you call this?”

You lightly tapped your cheek to indicate the very noticeable bruise that was just beginning to fade from his left cheek.

“I call that luck.”

You let out a huff as you turned and faced forward. Leading him towards where you needed to go and reminding yourself that you needed to focus on the task at hand. Not Zoro.

“You carry a knife with you but you don’t use it.”

He stated it as a fact. Not a question. Zoro already knew that it wasn’t used for self-defense.

“I use it to treat and clean infected wounds and forage for ingredients.”

“But not for self-defense.”

You found yourself whirling on him again and this time he was prepared. His hand resting on the edge of his sword and hand infamously tucked inside his pocket.

“I’m a doctor, Zoro. I follow Naan’s oath to never do harm to anyone-“

“And what if to help someone - yourself - it meant that you had to take a life to save theirs?”

He’d taken a step towards you. His whole body radiated with an intensity you hadn’t been prepared for. You could feel your muscles straining to stay in place; to not retreat. Zoro had closed what space you’d had between the two of you until all he’d left were a few measly inches.

“I try not to let it come to that.”

“You don’t always get to decide like that, it's not how the world works. You keep thinking like that and you’re going to be a liability.”

Your eyes narrowed in on him and you felt yourself get on your tippy toes without thinking. Your index finger pressed into his stupidly hard chest as you looked up at him.

“It is not a liability to give a shit about people, Zoro. To care about who they are with their own wants and dreams. What makes someone a liability is not knowing who is worth that effort and who isn’t.”

You dropped back down onto your heels and turned to stomp your way into the trees. What did he know? So, you weren’t exactly a swordsman or incredibly stretchy, and while Usopp wasn’t necessarily the bravest man on the planet he was a damn fine shot. Nami could kick ass and was the best navigator. What did you bring to the table?

No. You wouldn’t let him make you think that way.

You hadn’t realized you’d gone farther than intended into the forest of trees until you noticed not only the green chiterra growing all over the sides of them, but also what looked like gold cap mushrooms. One that you knew to be poisonous.

You put it in the back of your mind. You weren’t here to get things to harm people. That wasn’t who you were and you wouldn’t let this newfound journey, or anyone, change that. You unsheathed your knife from your satchel and started carefully scraping off the moss from the bark of the tree.

“I could train you.”

Those four words stopped you mid-scrap. It had been roughly a few minutes - only a few - since you’d both been silent. You expected the rest of your time out here collecting ingredients to go relatively dull with you both pouting in your respective corners. Out of everything you could’ve expected, those four words were most definitely not it.

“Huh?”

God, you really needed to get it together.

Zoro grunted out a, “Fuck me,” before he gave you his full attention.

“I said I could train you. If you want.”

Was it possible that Zoro, the demon pirate hunter, was nervous? You couldn’t believe it, and for that exact reason you didn’t think twice about it. However, you couldn’t pass up the chance to tease him. Just a little.

“Did Roronoa Zoro - the demon pirate hunter - just offer to teach me how to kick ass?”

This whole entire trip was turning into one unexpected thing after another. The last thing you would’ve thought you would earn from your teasing was a grimace, maybe a smirk if you were lucky. Instead, your words generated an actual smile from the demon himself and you were devastated.

“I thought you said you never heard of me?”

Oh, right. He was talking and he needed you to word back. Right. You could do that.

“Luffy,” your voice cracked on your captain's name and you pretended to cough to clear your throat. “Luffy was telling me about the first time you guys met. It was truly a riveting moment.”

“Okay, let’s back up,” you began, your fingers motioning like a wheel. You’d been sitting with Luffy at the table eating breakfast. What had come over you to ask about how he met Zoro was still currently pending investigation. Luckily for you, Luffy wasn’t going to question you on why you wanted to know. “Did you just say you met him tied up inside the marine yard?” “He’d given himself up. Never told me exactly why he’d done that actually.” Luffy was perplexed for all of a millisecond before he sank his teeth back into the dry meat in his hand. “Oh, well I’m sure he was happy you let him down.” “Actually, he told me to get lost.” Yup, you were choking on a piece of toast. Luffy just stated it like it was useless information. Not that his first mate didn’t tell him to essentially fuck off during their first meeting. “He told you to get lost?” “Yeah, he did.” “So, why did you even bother staying there? You could’ve just left.” A smile began to grow on his lips. It wasn’t his usual radiant one that could rival the sun, but a thoughtful one. It told you the memory of meeting Zoro meant something special to Luffy, and it made you regard the interaction a little less harshly. “I couldn’t just leave him there. Not when he has a dream to fulfill.” While you were still debating on whether Luffy was a real person, there wasn’t any denying that he searched for the good in people. Whatever it was he’d seen in Zoro told Luffy he was a good guy. “So,” you drawled out the o, “he told you to get lost and for some reason your brain heard those words as, ‘follow your dreams’.” “He isn’t a bad guy, Doc. I know Zoro is more than just a pirate hunter with a scary nickname. He is someone with a dream, just like you, and I’m going to make sure he reaches it.”

Looking at Zoro now, you could see what Luffy saw in him. Sure, he was quick to anger and even more quick to say shit without thinking it through, but who wasn’t at times? You had experienced first hand the good that lived inside of him.

He’d helped you when he didn’t have to when you were sick. He shared a part of himself, a small part but still a part, to see who he was underneath all the attitude. While you weren’t in the business of hurting anyone, you debated on whether letting him train you would at least make you useful enough to save other members of your crew - maybe Zoro - if something came up.

You did hit someone with a pot and punch Zoro in his face. What could learning a few moves going to do?

“Alright, demon pirate hunter, I’ll consider it.”

—————————

He wanted to throttle Luffy.

The way you kept looking at him - saying his nickname - was stirring something foreign in his chest. He may not know exactly what it was but he didn’t have too. His body was telling him plainly he should take back his invitation to spend more time alone with you. You were only going to get in the way of his goal.

All of those made sense why he should retract his invitation and head back to the Merry. And yet…

“If it pumps up your ego, I’ll say it as many times as you like. For a price.”

You wiggled your eyebrows at him and it was so unexpected Zoro wanted to laugh. His offer to help train you had been in the back of his mind, but when he went to offer it, it’d gone rougher than he’d intended. He hadn’t meant to make you feel bad - to call you a liability. It wasn’t that he thought you would be an actual liability for Luffy.

You were a liability for him.

The way you were looking at him now, the smile on your face, gave him all the warning he needed to know you were a dangerous wildcard. He’d made a promise to Kuina and you felt like the one thing that could keep him from it.

Whatever the feelings you were stirring in him were something he needed to be wary of. Zoro wasn’t going to have any of it. He made a promise a long time ago and he wasn’t going to let you or anyone else get in the way of him keeping it.

He was so lost in thought that he wasn’t aware you’d gotten so close. It wasn’t until your fingers slid over his ear, placing something behind it, that he was jolted back into the present.

“Oh, shit I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to freak you out.”

Your voice was breathy and sweet with your wide eyes looking up at him with something dangerously close to reverence. Close like at the dinner table. Close like when he’d tumbled out of the well and landed on top of you. Zoro still had the way your body felt under him burned into his memory. One he’d tried to erase with the bottles of liquor that now sat empty inside his room.

His hand moved up to feel what you’d placed behind his ear, and his fingertips were greeted by the soft give of flowers.

“Did you seriously just put flowers in my hair?”

Your response was maddening. Zoro watched as you brought your hands up to join your shrug, as if he wasn’t standing there, flowers now pinched between his fingers.

“I think you look cute.”

Cute.

“Yeah. That’s not me.”

In a show that it wasn’t him, that you and your stupid flower giving were just another nuisance, he opened his fingers and let them fall to the ground. Zoro watched as your eyes that had been brimming with sunshine were darkened by clouds of sadness. Even your earlier giddy step was replaced by slouched shoulders that suddenly looked as if the world weighed heavily on them.

“Okay.”

Your reply was meek. If he wasn’t straining to hear it he would’ve missed it. You didn’t give him another glance or yell at him for being an ass. That was what he had expected; what he was still waiting for. Zoro had known you for a couple of days and within that time came to learn you were the most maddening person he’d ever met - second to Luffy. This? He didn’t like this. He liked it better when you fought back. When you told him what an asshole he was and when you touched him without thinking.

Zoro watched as you went back to gently maneuvering your knife under the bark; skilled hands that removed pieces of that weird-looking fungus. You pulled an empty glass from your bag and, with the same gentleness, pushed it past the lip of the bottle to hold it inside.

Cute.

That’s what she’d called him.

I am not cute. I’m the demon pirate hunter, Roronoa Zoro.

He could feel his jaw flexing at the thought. Cute. Zoro has been called many things in his life, but cute was never one of them. His hand clenched and unclenched on the Wado Ichimonji as if asking - begging - what he should do.

He couldn’t stay here much longer. Zoro didn’t know what to say and you obviously had no intention of speaking to him anytime soon.

“Fuck this,” he whispered as he stalked off back out of the trees.

He made it to the edge of the clearing where the sun fully broke free from the shade of leaves when you called to him.

“Try not to get lost, Zoro. We both know you’ve got shit directional

skills.”

He refused to admit he was happy to hear you say something. Even if that something was your usual shit-talking. Zoro grunted as a reply and quickly went back to walking out of the clearing when something - small and pure white - caught his eye out of his peripherals.

It was huddled against the bark of a tree. Its petals were open and stark against the darkness. It took him a moment to recognize those white petals. What he found amusing was how the flower always seemed to be carrying its own weight on its shoulders; the neck of it dropping down like it’d just received devastating news. Zoro didn’t know why he gently plucked it from its resting spot. He couldn’t explain why after that he turned to head back in your direction.

Zoro was trying to get away from you and here he was bringing a fucking flower back. You turned at his approach, your mouth already forming over some word. You never spoke what it was you wanted to say and you didn’t seem like you wanted to try either.

Zoro placed the snowdrop behind your ear. Perfectly placing it to where the hanging bulb hugged the top of your ear to hang against your hair.

“You left to go find flowers?”

Zoro shook his head. He stepped back just enough to see how it looked. He was a dumbass for doing this.

“No, I was going to head back to the ship-“

“Figures-“

“When I saw this snowdrop by itself,” Zoro continued over you. “It made me think of you.”

“That feels oddly specific.”

He didn’t like how you were looking at him. More accurately, he didn’t like how you looking at him was making him feel.

“It’s a snowdrop. They’re one of the most delicate flowers in the world.”

There it was. The darkening of those previous clouds now cracked to life with the spark of your anger. Zoro had to admit, he enjoyed getting you all riled up. What he wouldn’t tell you, is because they only grew at certain times and usually in the snow, it made them one of the most resilient flowers because they could grow under any conditions.

“Are you calling me delicate?”

A huff left him as his eyes rolled up into the treeline.

“I was trying to apologize earlier.”

“Oh.”

You’d started all that storm building just to deflate but also-

“You sure have a way with words,” he teased.

“My bedside manner is not the best, I’ll admit. I once told a dying man a joke about a pirate and marine having an entanglement. Naan said it probably wasn’t the most appropriate time.”

For some reason, Zoro could picture it. A man dying and you, being your nervous self, trying to make him laugh to ease his passing. The thought of it alone made a smile curl at his lips, and he tried to gently shake it away. To look at anything else but you.

“What do I gotta do to hear one of these world-famous Doc jokes?”

He waited until his face was neutral to look back at you. Both hands rested on his swords as he watched you fill the bottle to the brim and place it securely inside your satchel.

“For that kind of service? You have to be dying.”

“You’re a real pain in the ass, you know that?”

You were a pain in the ass. A pain in his ass. From the moment he met you until now and probably would continue to be. A pain that made him think of things outside of his goal. You made him think past his promise. Who was he if he didn’t keep it? He should’ve never offered to train you or willingly spend more time with you. He was going to have to take it back. It didn’t matter if it hurt your feelings or made you hate him. Maybe that’s what he needed to do to make you hate him-

“What are you doing?”

Zoro prayed that his face was devoid of any emotion. The panic that bloomed in his chest didn’t spread to where you could see. You’d placed your hand over your chest in a way Zoro knew too well.

“I,” it was the first time Zoro ever heard your full name. “Promise to be the biggest pain in your - Roronoa Zoro’s ass - from now until whenever.”

For the second time, his hand was clutching onto the Wado Ichimonji today. While you spoke, Zoro could swear he saw flashes of Kuina standing behind you. The look of disappointment growing on her face.

“You made a promise.”

Zoro couldn’t bring himself to speak. He couldn’t trust what he would say. So, he simply turned back on his heel and made a beeline back for the edge of the trees. This time when he reached it he didn’t stop. He had to get back to the safety of the ship where he could barricade himself from you behind wooden doors and booze because Zoro could really use a drink.

————————-

It has been two days inside the fog. Two days of Zoro avoiding you like you carried the plague back with you from Irkhaven.

When you’d made that promise it was only meant to be good fun. You replayed over in your mind to see if you’d said something wrong - done something wrong to warrant the sudden extreme cold shoulder.

Besides the time you’d been with Nami and Usopp, all of you shared thoughts about the naval battle that had happened and, who could forget, his very real vice-admiral of a grandpa. Who could launch cannonballs like paperweights. After that, Zoro didn’t come around you or close to you.

Sure, you would see him when he lounged on the deck napping like a cat in open spots. Hell, if Zoro wasn’t sleeping he was either drinking or training. You’d catch glimpses of him on the upper deck lifting weights with his arms and, sometimes, his mouth.

The first time you saw him lifting eighty pounds with his teeth, you had about a thousand questions racing through your mind. If you thought he would answer you if you spoke, you might have asked him.

You weren’t sure why it bothered you so much. It shouldn’t have even mattered whether he talked to you or not, but he’d offered to train you. Why bother asking to do something that required his time if he wasn’t willing to give it? These sorts of questions had been your own personal plague since he’d begun to give you the cold shoulder.

You’d been sitting with your legs hanging out of the side of where the cannonball had blown an unfortunate hole through the Merry’s railing. It killed you to see her so broken; her intricate leafling design ruined all because of what felt like a family spat. Letting out a sigh, you pulled your legs out from over the side with a hand holding onto the rail so you didn’t fall into the sea.

Once you were securely standing without fear of going overboard, you wrapped the leather cord that secured the pages of your journal around it. You were just finishing up tucking it in when Usopp began to shout, “I see something.”

How anyone could see anything in this mess was beyond you, but then again Luffy was at the front of the Merry using his nose to guide you guys out of the fog so…yeah. Stranger things could and did happen.

It was enough to garner your attention and bring you walking up to join the rest of the crew that had assembled.

“I see nothing,” you stated.

“I don’t know how anyone could see anything in this soup,” Nami agreed as she stirred the ship in the direction Luffy called.

“You guys don’t see the red lights? How can you not see them?”

“Because, Usopp, I don't have eyes like an Eagle.”

You could feel the happiness your comment brought him as he continued to point in the direction of said light.

“Just keep your eyes posted right here in the center and you’ll see it, Doc.

“3 degrees starboard, Nami and keep it straight.”

“I really wish you wouldn’t sit up there Luffy,” you called up to where he sat, legs wide, on the Merry’s headpiece. “What happens if you slip?”

“You're his crew mate. Not his mother. He doesn’t need you coddling him.”

You turned to find Zoro standing a few feet behind Usopp. He wasn’t looking at you but he’d just spoken to you. His first words in two days and it didn’t surprise you in the least they were his usual asshole tone.

“Oh, so he can speak. What a shocker.”

Zoro side-eyed you but still refused to acknowledge your presence. The soft bruise that was there two days ago at Irkhaven was all but a faded memory. You were tempted to make it a fresh one.

“Okay you two let’s focus on-“ Usopp stopped mid-sentence as his eyes scanned over something in the distance. “What’s a baratie?”

You looked where he was and finally saw it. Red neon was bleeding its way into the fog. It was enough to make you forget about Zoro, your lack of clean clothes, or what had happened the last couple of days. It was land. You were finally going to actually put your feet down on something solid that wasn’t just the Merry.

Nami stirred the Merry in and easily parked it at the next available dock. Immediately, people rushed out to begin tying the ship's ropes to posts to secure it in place.

“Is it just me or does this look like a restaurant?”

You meant your question to be open-ended. To allow anyone to answer in case what you were seeing was in fact a floating restaurant in the middle of the ocean. However, you were leaning against the rail next to Nami, with whom you pressed arm and arm.

“I think it is.”

You were all still staring over the railing when Luffy asked excitedly, “Do you guys know what this means?”

“We stock up on supplies and keep going so the marines can’t find us?”

“We head back to Syrup village where it’s safe?”

“No - let’s go eat!”

You felt the blood drain from your face. You didn’t have much in the way of something to wear at an establishment like this. You were willing to bet you couldn’t just walk in wearing - or smelling - like you all did. You were getting ready to tell Luffy you’d hang back on the ship when you felt a hand gently wrap itself in yours.

Glancing down at your interwoven hands and back up, you found Nami, her lips together in a soft smile, as she gave you a light tug to follow her.

“Come on. You can borrow some of my clothes.”

You let out a raspberry, your hand squeezing hers briefly in relief.

“Nami, you are a lifesaver.”

“That fish better have a bar.”

You weren’t going to say it out loud, but you agreed with Zoro. You were going to need the blissful ignorance of alcohol to make it through a dinner where you possibly ended up sitting next to him.

---------------

As always, thank you so much for reading. Comments and reblogs are welcome.

--------------

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dilemmaontwolegs · 2 years ago

Text

Not A Verstappen: A New World {1}

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!driver!reader x Lando Norris Summary: With the season over it's time to turn over a new leaf as you start your next adventure outside the Red Bull family. Warnings: 18+ only, sexual themes, fluff, periods, blood, vomit WC: 2k F1 Masterlist NAV: Sibling Rivalry One || Two || Three NAV: Gridlocked One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine NAV: A New World One || Two

Christmas Eve 2022 “I could get used to this,” you murmured happily. The sun was warm on your skin, the waves gently rocked the boat and you were with your favourite people in the world.

“What, unemployment?”

You dared to open your eyes against the bright sunlight just to glare at Max as he stood on a paddleboard a few feet away from the edge. “Relaxing, you asshat.”

Lando rolled over at the disturbance but his eyes didn’t open before he settled back on his side and draped an arm over your stomach. “She’s got a job,” he mumbled half-asleep. “Lady of the House.”

“Lady,” Max snorted. “Good one.”

You sat up and stretched before getting to your feet, much to Lando’s displeasure. “Water looks nice.”

Max scanned the beautiful blue sea, spotting Charles kitesurfing where the wind was stronger beyond the lee. “It’s a little cold.”

“Even better.” You ran and leapt from the back of his boat, tackling him around the waist and knocking him off the paddleboard and into the frigid water. You were laughing as you resurfaced and found Max looking like a drowned rat as he tried to scramble back onto his board.

“Fuck off,” he shivered as you shook the board everytime he got on it, Lando’s loud laugh upsetting the gulls that hung around hoping for scraps.

“Nuh-uh, not until you admit I am a Lady.” You grabbed the board again and shoved it about. “Earthquake!”

“Sweetheart, stop harassing poor Max.”

“Poor Max?” You echoed as you gave him one last push before tipping your head back to float on the surface. “I can’t believe my mum’s favourite child isn’t even her own.”

“I don’t have a favourite,” she said as she set down a tray of baking at the outdoor table, P quickly following as she smelt the fresh cookies.

“You should, since you only have me, your numero uno.”

She rolled her eyes at your dramatics and you wondered if that's how you looked when you did the same thing. “Come and eat, honey. Now that you have no job there’s no need for those strict diets.”

You pulled yourself up the steps off the back of the boat and Lando held your towel open for you, wrapping it tightly in his arms so you were bundled inside. “I have a job,” you said with a laugh as Lando’s drying tickled you.

“That’s not a job,” Max reminded as he stepped onto the boat and dragged the paddleboard onto the deck.

“Obviously. But, seriously, you are looking at an Aston Martin pilot.”

“That’s a bit of a risk,” Max said with a frown at the news. “Lance’s father is always going to put him ahead of you.”

“Well as long as he doesn’t try to kill me then it’s already an improvement,” you said with a small laugh.

Max sat heavily on the padded bench and dropped head in his hands. He was still struggling to accept that Jos had tampered with your brakes and taken the fuse for the water pump before your last race. He had been obsessed with having the Verstappen name on the winners trophy.

Apparently he hadn’t tried to kill you, he was just trying to slow you down so Max would get the points he needed to win the championship. The brakes were meant to work too well, not stop working entirely. It didn’t change the fact that your own father had nearly been the death of you.

“That’s not funny, love,” Lando muttered in your ear, his arms tightening around you as he remembered the crash and the fear he had felt that day.

“No, but if I don’t laugh about it I will cry, and that’s not pretty.”

“I think you’re pretty,” Penelope said with a mouthful of chocolate chip cookie.

“Thanks, P, but no one is as pretty as you,” you replied and laughed when she smiled at the compliment.

“Mouth closed when we eat,” Max reminded her with a grimace at the sight of mushed food between her teeth.

You joined her at the table, grabbing a muffin from the tray and ruffling her hair. “I’m going to miss you tomorrow but I hope you have a good Christmas with your dad.”

“Do you think Santa will find his way? My stocking is at home.” She frowned and placed her cookie down. “What if I don’t get any presents?”

“Have you been a good girl this year?” She gave you a small nod after thinking for a moment. “Then he will find you wherever you are.”

Christmas Day 2022 The palatial mansion had gone quiet as everyone went their separate ways for the evening after the banquet. There was no way any one family could have hosted the Christmas get together since there were just too many people but the island destination worked perfectly. Charles’ family had arrived on his boat while Lando’s family had flown in on Max’s plane and they were all spending the next few days celebrating the end of the year with you.

“I never want to move,” you groaned as Charles rubbed your full belly. “I shouldn’t have had that last yorkshire.”

“Maybe it was the two bowls of dessert,” he teased.

“Or the bottle of wine,” Lando added, his hands massaging your feet that rested on his lap.

“I didn’t eat that much,” you huffed as you looked at your bloated midriff that seemed to dispute your words. “Where were you two planning on sleeping tonight? I’m sure there is a dog box somewhere on the island.”

“But then who would do this when your stomach hurts?”

You groaned as a sharp pain stabbed your abdomen and sat up. “Fuck.” Pushing off the couch you rushed to the bathroom and crumpled in front of the toilet, emptying your stomach of everything you ate before flushing the evidence away.

“Baby?” Lando nudged the door open and frowned you as curled your knees up and groaned in pain. “You didn’t eat that much…”

“It’s not the food,” you whimpered as the cramps grew stronger and Charles arrived looking worried at your condition. “Can you run the shower?” You could feel the blood running down your thighs beneath the dress and groaned at the timing.

“Should I call for a doctor?” Charles asked as he helped you to your feet while Lando warmed the shower. “You’re shaking.”

“I’m fine,” you said, squeezing his hand as you doubled over in pain. Lando blanched as he saw the red streaks running down your legs and you saw the panic in his wide eyes. “It’s just my period.”

“What do we do?” he asked. “What do you need us to do?”

You would have smiled at the rushed words if you weren’t being crushed from the inside out. “Hot shower, clean clothes, painkillers, pads, cuddles and death.”

“You mean chocolate,” Lando corrected as he pulled his shirt over his head and kicked his pants off before stepping into the shower.

Charles didn’t give you the option to walk yourself in after, carrying you straight under the rainfall of steaming water. The heat saturated your dress and the water turned pink as it swirled around the drain at your feet.

“You guys don’t have to be here for this,” you murmured as you felt a hand dragging the zip down your spine.

“Silly Spitfire,” Lando chuckled as he reached for the special shampoo made for you, lathering it up in his hands while Charles released the updo you had styled for the dinner party. “We promised to take care of you, didn't we? So let us.”

Max grunted a good morning to Charles as he entered the kitchen on Boxing Day and made a beeline to the coffee maker. Everyone knew Lando would sleep as long as he was allowed but Max frowned when you didn’t follow Charles in, his eyes lingering on the empty doorway expectedly.

“She’s not feeling very well,” Charles said as he placed his cup under the espresso maker. Though there wasn’t the comfortable atmosphere they used to share, they were on friendly terms after finding equal footing in their support of you and how your season ended. They were friends, just not best friends.

“Ah, goodluck, mate,” Max chuckled, returning to his half empty coffee and his phone he was checking the news on. “There’s some spare rooms if you need some space.”

“Why would we need space?”

“I love my sister, but you are going to be in for hell.” He winced at the memory of spending the holidays with you when you raced for AlphaTauri. “Happens every year.”

Charles snorted and took his mug with a shake of his head. “Thanks for the concern, but we’re good.”

You woke to the smell of coffee and found Charles sitting up beside you, reading something on his phone, while Lando snored softly in your ear. You had fallen asleep with their body heat easing the ache in your muscles and they were better than any heat pack you had used before.

“Good morning, ma chérie,” he said as he placed his phone down, noticing you were awake. After helping you to sit up against the headboard he grabbed a plate from the bedside table and placed it on your lap before grabbing a glass of juice. “Plain toast and iBuprofen.”

“Breakfast of champions,” you murmured sarcastically before taking a bite and smiling softly. “Thank you, babe.”

Charles kissed your temple before handing you the tablets and drink. “It’s just because it says not to take these on an empty stomach. Once Lando is awake we can get you anything you desire, even if one of us has to pop over to the mainland.”

“I’d rather just have you.” The words had slipped out before you even realised it and you shoved another piece of toast in your mouth. “Sorry, hormones.”

Lando’s dark lashes twitched where they fanned across his cheeks before they fluttered open and he stretched as he rolled onto his back. “What about me?”

You looked down at him in confusion as he rubbed his eyes. “What about you?”

“Would you rather have me too?” he asked with a lopsided smile as he used your thigh as a pillow.

“Are you always just pretending to sleep?”

“No, I just wake up when I hear something sexy.”

Charles laughed as he combed his fingers through the wild mess of curls. “Why does that not surprise me, mon cher.”

“Well you can go back to sleep,” you said as you passed the empty plate back to Charles. “I feel disgusting, probably look worse, and don’t even try to tell me otherwise or I will cry.”

“Agree to disagree,” they said at the same time, sharing a small laugh.

“I still think you are the most beautiful woman in the world, love.”

“I can see that,” you teased as you looked down at the thin sheet that covered Lando’s lap. “You know what would make me feel better? You did promise me anything.”

Charles shifted beside you and his cheeks flushed pink as his mind ran wild with tempting thoughts. “Anything at all.”

Your tongue rolled across your bottom lip at the thought and their eyes darkened with each passing second. “I want to watch you two.”

“You sure you don’t want to join us?” Lando asked as his fingertip drew small circles on your thighs.

“Isn’t that gross?” you asked as you crinkled your nose and your legs closed tighter.

“It’s just blood,” Lando chuckled. “And red is Charles' favourite colour.”

You rolled your eyes but had to give him a little laugh as he eased the tension and Charles kissed his way down to your collarbone. ��There’s nothing about you I would ever call gross. And you never have to be embarrassed with us, mi amor. We just want you to be comfortable.”

You swallowed at the sincerity in his voice but still shook your head. “I’m not brave enough today.”

“Okay, love,” Lando said with a kiss to your thigh before he sat up. “Then we will have to put on a show just for you, a late Christmas present.”

Click here for the next part.

#Charles Leclerc x reader x lando norris #charles leclerc fanfic #lando norris fanfic #charles leclerc imagine #lando norris imagine #charles leclerc x reader #lando norris x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #formula one fanfiction #formula one imagine

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featherandferns · 4 months ago

Note

5. “Ah Yes. Betrayl, I’m Familiar With That”

22. “You’re My Best Friend” Angst Pleaseee

🫂❤️‍🩹

21. "You're my best friend"

I've actually already done prompt 5 (read wasps here) and prompt 21 ("You're my best friend" is 21 not 22), so I just did an angsty prompt 21 instead of redoing both- I hope that's okay! <3

Season 4 spoilers kind of? Just episode 1 vibes.

Promise - prompt 21

JJ Maybank was designed for you to fall in love with him. It ran deeper than his looks; penetrated through the flesh. His personality was interwoven with his beauty the way his veins lined his muscles and skin. All the idiosyncrasies that made him up in flaws and faults, like his recklessness and his impulsiveness, were nothing but charms in your eyes. He caused trouble wherever he went the way a hurricane accidentally leaves a wake in its path. You chased that trouble like a storm chaser: compass and map and get-away car at hand, just for him.

By the wonder of fate, you ended up by his side. It was as though the universe placed you there - as if you and JJ were born from the same star dust, destined to find one another in the next life. From childhood, you were in the picture. Offering him a place to stay when his dad was in one of his blind, drunk rages. Giggling through pier jumping adventures and screaming through cheesy horror flicks. Later, older, he was there after your first “heartbreak” and you were there to hear about his cunning escapades with a random girl on the island, his virginity no longer a mark on his name. And with this age came realisations and ramifications. With this age came thoughts and feelings that were new and alien to you. The kind that warps one’s perception. The kind that frames someone in new ways under new titles. JJ Maybank went from being your snotty, scheming long-lasting friend, into your crush. The more time you spent in his orbit, the closer you were drawn. And so, as designed, you fell in love with him.

He was hard to read and harder to decipher. A flirt, no doubt, though less so as the Pogue-centred adventures grew. His carelessness diminished somewhat when the stakes grew. When the sight of blood and dead bodies became shy of the norm, even compared to his youth in his father’s shadow. John B and Sarah went and with that, JJ came. Closer to you than ever. Needing you more than before. Restless nights and lonely days which you were more than happy to fill, needing him just as much. Nothing beyond cuddles and shared beds. A kiss that never strayed more than a cheek or forehead. Then, reunited with the formerly missing Pogues, came his lightness once more. But that distance didn’t come: he was still just as close. Almost attainable. Poguelandia and El Dorado felt like fever dreams in this light. The one constant was JJ, no matter what, and you the same for him.

Now, settled, JJ’s old Maybank home rebuilt and remade, the bait-and-surf shop up and running, the gang tethered together through trauma and triumph: you finally felt like everything was falling into place, the same way you had fallen for JJ.

“I might just sleep out here tonight,” JJ tells you. He’s lying by your side on the newly fixed up boat. The two of you are staring up at the sky, slowly starting to fill with stars, slowly losing the colour of daylight.

“You’ll be dinner for the skeeters,” you say.

He shrugs. “Circle of life, I guess.”

Laughing quietly, you turn your head. His hair is short again - dirty blonde, sunkissed highlights. The small jut of his chin and the slope of his nose. The high press of his cheekbones from his small, lingering smile. At the feel of your gaze, he turns his head too. An air of amusement brushes over him; has him almost laughing, quirking a brow.

“What?”

“Nothing,” you hum. Your own smile falters and your stomach churns. The words are brewing deep within you like a slow, roasting broth. They’d been there for years now, waiting to slip out, and you felt like you can’t hold it down much longer. JJ’s own smile fades into a look of worry, mirroring your own anxiety.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you repeat, lying. “I just…I’m just happy.”

His lips twitch upward again. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. I’m happy you finally have a home, JJ,” you quietly say.

Visibly moved by your sentiment, his hand reaches out for yours, lying limp on the cool plastic exterior of the boat. He squeezes your hand in his. Smiles at you. Holds your gaze. As if drawn in by some outside force, you lean over. Your eyes slip shut and your lips find his, and there, you plant a gentle, soft kiss. It’s no more than a peck. No more than a fleeting, almost phantom moment of weakness. Lingering, lips no more than a centimetre from his, you wait. Wait for some absolution that you hoped might come.

JJ clears his throat. His hand slips from yours. Your heart cracks like the break of an ice surface as he sits up, sort of hurried. You sit up too.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, knowing fully well what the answer is.

JJ is reaching for his boots that he took off an hour or so ago. He meddles with the laces. Not looking at you, he mumbles, “why’d you have to do that?”

“What?”

“Everything was…God, why the fuck did you have to do that?” he repeats, frustrated, maybe even angry.

Your eyes sting and your heart burns and it starts to feel as though you’re slipping away from yourself. “I don’t know. I just…I just figured–”

“--Well, you shouldn’t have,” JJ snaps, his head darting up. Your eyes meet his and there’s this panic there, deep and damning. You feel damned.

“I’m sorry,” you say. Sorry for what? For kissing him? For thinking that he might feel the same? For hoping that he might?

JJ shakes his head and looks back at his boots. His frantic movements stop, fingers mixed with his laces. “Why’d you have to do that, huh? Everything was finally how it should be and now…Now it’s all messed up.”

“Messed up? No, no, it doesn’t…We can just forget about it,” you hurriedly say. You grab at his forearm, wanting his attention, now for a whole new reason. “We can just pretend it never happened.”

“Why’d you do it?”

“I don’t know. I just thought that maybe, with everything that’s happened, maybe you might feel the same way,” you stammer.

JJ’s eyes slip shut. It’s as though you gave him the diagnosis to a disease he always dreaded. “We can’t.”

You’re not sure what he’s alluding to with that. We can’t pretend it never happened? We can’t move forward? We can’t be friends?

“You’re my best friend,” you whisper. “I don’t want to lose you.”

JJ gnaws at his lower lip. You sit and wait and hope and pray that you haven’t managed to tear apart years of friendship with one stupid moment of idiocy. Ironic how JJ lived his life in spur-of-the-moment choices but the second you make one, it might haunt you forever. Eventually, as if in slow motion, he looks at you. There’s a sadness in his eyes as though he knows what he says will pain you, and your heart takes pause as you wait. His lips move wordlessly at first and then, sighing, he finds the words.

“I’m in love with Kiara.”

You feel like bleeding ink on a page. Like you have no mass or place of purchase. Like any meaning you ascribed to anything is now without, soulless and baseless; a work of fiction, like some Shakesperian tragedy.

“Oh,” you breathe.

He nods. “I…I’m sorry, I just…I don’t feel that way for you.”

“Okay,” you murmur. You think you might throw up. You shift in your spot as if preparing to. JJ reaches out a hand and it burns when he touches yours.

“I don’t want to lose you though. I do love you, but the love I feel for her is different. I’m sorry, I don’t know why, I just–”

“--JJ, please,” you beg. You force yourself to look him in the eyes. He’s terrified of everything. Always has been, as long as you’ve known him. More than anything, terrified of love. And you know what that means, for him to care so deeply for someone. You know that he needs you. And you know that, despite everything, you need him. It hurts to be something but it’s worse to be nothing, after all.

Somewhere deep inside of you, you find a smile. A forced, placid smile, like a lady-in-waiting might wear. Your other hand envelopes his and you will the tears away.

“I’m your best friend,” you assure him. The words are sour like acid on your tongue. It feels like blasphemy. Nodding, as if trying to make yourself believe it too, you say, “we can forget the whole thing.”

A relieved smile comes to JJ’s face like a breath of air after free diving. He leans back, nods, happy, overjoyed, appeased.

“Thank God. Cause I don’t know what I’d do without you. I really don’t,” he says, meaning every word. Maybe that’s what hurts the most.

Nodding, agreeing, you say, “Kiara would be an idiot if she didn’t want you, too.”

Smiling to himself, his head dips, abashed, and you know then and there that he’d never be that way for you. He gets up and as his hand slips form your hold, it feels like you’re losing him forever. Once again, he’s reframed. Different again. No longer your crush, no longer your future, and no longer your best friend. He’s a mirage. He isn’t real. You no longer know what to call him or how to name your connection. Because as he walks away, bidding you goodnight, heading to the house where Kiara sleeps soundly, beautiful and brilliant, you begin to cry, knowing that you would never be able to forget it, and yet knowing that you had to.

JJ Maybank was designed for you to fall in love with him, but he was never designed to love you back.

#jj x reader #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #jj #obx #outerbanks #outer banks #obx 4 #outer banks 4 #outerbanks 4 #jj maybank season 4 #outer banks jj maybank #jj maybank drabble #jj drabble #jj x reader drabble #jj maybank x reader drabble #jj maybank angst #jj x kiara #jiara

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 6 months ago

Text

The Depths 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, stalking and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: fisherman!Geralt of Rivia x artist!reader

Summary: your sleepy existence is thrown into chaos by a mysterious man.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

The water crashes onto the coast. The sound is dulled by the distance of your perch. The sky melds into the lake's surface as the sun hides behind a swathe of clouds.

You lean in to squint at the strokes on the canvas, sweeping your brush in repetition of the rippled horizon. You use the wnd of the brush to scratch your cheek.

Almost...

You peek above the easel and watch the small speck growing larger as it moves across the water. The fishing boat is there so often that you've added its silhouette to the acrylic tides. A stalwart to your early mornings and listless afternoons.

Day after day is layered before you in shades of cerulean, slate, and lavender. The grey sky with a tinge of golden sunlight, the waters stirring in sparkling shades of aquamarine and pearl, the coast rippled in fawn and umber. Another eye might see it and deem it finished but not you.

You step back to let the paint dry and rinse your brushes in the jar. Hmm. You're out of clean water.

You close up the easel and hook the canvas on the backside, carrying it like a briefcase as you pick up your canvas bag with your roll of brushes and pots of paint, your palette around your index finger.

You make a slow descent down the cliffside and curl around towards the shore. You veer away from the dock and head down into the silt. You put your stuff on a flat rock. You take the used brushes and palette to rinse in the shallows.

The water laps over your sandals as you linger in the soothing cool foam. The approach of evening skews the water with emerald and jade. You shake it all off and step back to dry it with a paint-blotted cloth.

You rearrange the bag so it all fits and hook it over your shoulder. You look down at the your linen apron. You can recall where every splotch and streak came from.

You take your easel and canvas and head back up along the dock. As you reach the post, the fishing boat knocks against the other end. You peer over at the man that lays a board across the spanse between.

You see him every night. You couldn't forget a man with snow white hair and golden eyes. His age is less than his locks might suggest and his eyes seem to look through you, not at you.

You smile, like you do every night. He doesn't react. Just like every other time.

The smell of fish wafts in the boat as he drags his net across the wooden ramp. You turn and press on. He's much to busy for you. It doesn't bother you. You came out here to get away from people.

Your feet leave divets in the dirt as the rock of the boat knocks in a rhythm against the dock. The man's toil adds to thunks and thuds and they fade behind you. The peace here is immaculate, you wouldn't want to ruin it for anyone else.

Past the seaside houses left vacant in the colder seasons and the smaller basins of the lake, between the rocky ridges and grassy knolls, you return to your little house.The cornflower paint chips from the wooden siding and the stairs are worn in the middle from the tramp of feet. A bench stands on the other side of the white railing between a plinthed flowerpot and folding table with a book forgotten on its slats. Home.

The spindly wreath on the front door rattles as you push through and the screen door snaps behind you. The evening breezs drifts in through the mesh as you set your easel down and rest the canvas on crate just beside the mat. You put your bag in front of the wooden stand and bask in the calm.

You hang your wicker hat and untie your apron. Your hands are covered in paint. You'll wash them before you eat. You leave your wet sandals at the door.

You pull out the pot of chowder you made two nights past from the fridge. You put it over a burner and wait for it to warm. The fare lasts you near a week when you take the time to put it together. Every ingredient must be used to its last, especially when it is so far to market. And expensive.

You scoop out a bowl and eat it on the front porch. Your eyes are too tired to read. When you finish, you recline on the bench and yawn. You lay in the dimming hue of the evening as the stars wink down at you.

A whistle carries on the wind. You sit up and look for the culprit. They are close enough to hear but that could still be far. It could even be a bird.

You take the empty bowl inside and rinse it. You retreat to the bedroom and change

You open the window to let the night in. Around here, you can do that. Not like the city and its grated windows.

You laze in the dusk shade and drift slowly into yourself. Sleep enshrines you atop the cushy bed, the water stirring from afar, the loons calling into the dark. Tomorrow you'll figure out the exact right colour for the undertow.

You're more than due to sell a new piece. You need to if you want to stay in paradise.

#geralt of rivia #dark geralt of rivia #dark!geralt of rivia #geralt of rivia x reader #the witcher #au #series #drabble #the depths

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jeonginsleftcheek · 5 months ago

Text

The sun to me

Chapter VI. Caught.

pairing: hwang hyunjin x afab!reader

word count: 7.3k

chapter summary: caught in each other's hearts, you rise like the tide, souls entwined and playing notes that only two people in love can discern.

warnings: alcohol, hyun and reader talk about mommy issues, vague descriptions of masturbation

~ Masterlist for the series

~ next part

❤️Red gardenia - a silent way of saying 'I love you'

Only a few days later, in the wee morning hours, Hyunjin stalks the empty streets once again.

His mind is blank as he still didn't wake up properly, his backpack weighing heavy on his shoulders and a big thermos cup containing his favorite bitter liquid held in his hand.

Only this time he's not planning to wander around the island alone, he's meeting up with Delmar, the somewhat mysterious man who had asked him to join him in his fishing adventures.

Delmar waits for him on the pier where Hyunjin had met him for the first time, his figure once again manifesting itself in front of Hyunjin's eyes.

"Hey, boy!"- Delmar laughs, way too chipper this early in the morning.

"Morning."- Hyunjin's voice is groggy and Delmar let's out another laugh.

"Rough night?"- he asks, his hand coming down on Hyunjin's shoulder, smacking him in a friendly manner.

"It was fine, I just haven't had my morning coffee yet."- Hyunjin answers, blinking fast.

"Don't be a slave to such addictions."- Delmar grips the rope that keeps his little boat on the berth. He pulls the boat closer to the shore and nods at Hyunjin who still didn't process the sentence the man had uttered.

"Get in."- he says, with another wide smile.

Hyunjin somewhat clumsily jumps, his feet landing on the prow and he almost slips, barely catching himself as he flails his arms, making Delmar laugh again.

After he joins him, it doesn't take long for them to take off, Delmar sitting at the edge, manouvering the little fishing boat that barely fits the two men.

Hyunjin is a little too aware of how small the boat is and how they're getting further and further away from the shore, only the darkened sea in sight, as the sun still hasn't come out of it's sleep yet.

It's a bit eerie but for some reason it calms Hyunjin down at the same time, just like when one floats on water, unaware of what's deep beneath as they lay peacefully on the surface, only the sky above.

The wind that the movement of the boat creates is what refreshes Hyunjin, making him feel more awake and new as he manages to take a few sips of his coffee.

The boat slows down near a cove, and Delmar stops it, anchoring it in place. The motor sounds are finally silenced and the quietness of the early morning falls upon them.

"Alright, this is the perfect spot. Let's get to it." - Delmar pulls out two fishing rods, prepping his first as Hyunjin observes.

"Me and Isaac go fishing sometimes. I have to come and get him in his little castle and pull him out of that studio. He's always in there."- Delmar shakes his head disapprovingly, and Hyunjin lets out a little chuckle.

"He is always in there, but these last few days I've been joining him."

"Oh yeah, you're also some kind of artist, right?"- Delmar says and Hyunjin doesn't know if it's mocking or he's being serious.

"Yeah, I paint."

"Well, let me show you the art of fishing then, my friend."- Delmar lets out another laugh as he prepares the second rod, giving it to Hyunjin.

"Sounds good."- Hyunjin nods, after a few more sips of coffee and the first sun rays peeking out, he feels more energized and ready for the adventure ahead.

The scenery around him is nothing short of beautiful and he wishes he could capture it with his camera, but he didn't want to bring it to the boat in risk of it falling into the sea and disappearing forever.

Delmar takes out some live lures and Hyunjin makes a disgusted face for a second, making Delmar laugh for the nth time in the misty dawn.

"Hopefully your clothes are not too expensive, art boy."- he teases Hyunjin and he shakes his head.

"It's fine, it doesn't matter."

"Hope you have enough patience too, cause that's the most important thing you need when you fish."

"I like to think I do."- Hyunjin remembers all the times he sat and painted for hours and hours, just to hate the painting he'd created, throw it aside and start all over again.

The fishing rods with lures get lowered into the water and a comfortable silence settles between the two men.

"How did you decide to come to this island? I mean, it's not exactly big or famous and there's not much to see really."- Delmar breaks the silence after some time.

"Exactly."- Hyunjin rasps, clearing his throat.

"Oh. So you're hiding from someone?"- Delmar chuckles. "On the run from the police or something?"

Hyunjin snorts, Delmar must be watching lots of crime thrillers in his free time or reading those sorts of books.

"Just trying to ground myself and find my inspiration through simple things like this."- Hyunjin answers.

"This is a good place for inspiration. Might not have much but what little it contains, it can be very inspirational, more than your big city."

Hyunjin lets out a quiet laugh.

"The city is anything but inspiring."

"That's why I stayed here my whole life."- Delmar says. "I love it here! I have my little house and my little boat and my fishes! What else do I need? Nothing."- he finishes with a big smile.

"I wish I had that."

"What, nothing?"- Delmar jokes and Hyunjin rolls his eyes at the funny man.

Silence envelops the two men again before Hyunjin's rod gets tugged on. He panics for a moment but Delmar jumps in, letting out an excited sound as he helps Hyunjin reel the fish in.

"That's a good catch!"- he exclaims and Hyunjin feels so proud of something so simple, his heart full as the early sun warms up his cheeks.

Hyunjin has never felt this calm as the last few days, his soul slowly healing under the influence of the beautiful island and the good people surrounding him.

He can't wait to come visit your flower shop later.

You're working on a bouquet for Catherine and Bennet as their marriage anniversary is coming up soon, just as you hear footsteps approaching your little shop.

"Morning!"- you hear a gentle but excited voice that gets your heart jumping in your chest.

You whip around quickly, your skirt flowing around you, a flower still in your hand as your eyes fall on none other than Hyunjin.

The sight of him has you swallowing saliva that gathered in your mouth.

He put his hair up in a little ponytail and he's just wearing a simple white shirt and jeans but he makes them look so good, the jewelry around his neck and fingers is exquisite but tasteful. What makes him look even more irresistible is the wide smile on his face, the one that reveals his dimples and crinkles the skin around his shining eyes.

"Morning."- you let out a breath as you smile at him.

"That's pretty."- he lifts his hand up, pointing at you with a long slender finger and a wave of electricity runs through your body.

"W-what?"- you're confused for a second, your face burning in embarassment.

"The bouquet your making."- he smiles, his own cheeks rosy.

"Oh... That. Yeah, it's for Catherine and Bennet. Their wedding anniversary is in a few days so I'm just making a few different bouquets so Bennet can choose one to bring to her."- you explain as you turn back towards the flowers.

"Ah, that's really sweet."- a brief picture of Hyunjin giving you flowers like that for your anniversary, one that didn't even happen; runs through his mind and he has to shake the thoughts off before he gets too lost in them.

"It really is. They're so sweet together, still in love after being together for some time. The flowers are red gardenias. They had them as decoration on their wedding day, and they symbolize love. Lots of couples use them for their wedding day. You know the Chinese actually used to put them in love potions?"- you talk, not noticing how Hyunjin came closer to you, peering behind your shoulder, his eyes softened as he looks at your gentle hands and nimble fingers working so calmly with the delicate flowers.

"Hm, really? I hope it worked for them."- Hyunjin's voice rings right behind your ear, making you jump a little as the bouquet almost falls out of your hands but Hyunjin is quick as he wraps his arms around you and grips your hands and the bouquet.

The temperature in the room seems to reach it's peak as you gasp a little, your heart literally beating out of your chest both from your hard work almost disintegrating and from the way Hyunjin is pressed behind you, his soft hands on yours.

"T-thanks, I got it."- you say nervously but he seems to linger just for a moment, the tip of his nose barely grazing your hair as he takes a whiff of your sweet shampoo.

Lightning bolts run through his body as his mind almost becomes too clouded to think as result of being this close to you and feeling your warmth.

"Good morning!"- a happy voice calls out and the speed with which the both of you jolt away from each other should be studied by scientists.

"Barbara! Good morning!"- you answer, somewhat breathless. It must be 9am now.

"Oh, hello there. Aren't you just such a handsome young man?"- Barbara almost swoons at the sight of Hyunjin who also looks out of breath, his face flushed, the redness spreading all the way to his neck.

Hyunjin chuckles awkwardly as you place the luckily salvaged bouquet at the side.

"This is Hyunjin. Hyunjin, this is Barbara."- you say.

"Oh, you're the painter staying at Isaac's house? Oh how wonderful! Welcome to our little island."- Barbara shakes Hyunjin's hand a little too violently as you stifle a laugh at his desperate face.

"Thank you."- he says politely when she finally lets go of him.

"What's it gonna be today, Barbs?"- you ask.

"Oh, I just adored the zinnias you put together last time. And Whiskers particularly liked them so I would love for you to-"

"Make another one? No problem."- you smile at her and get to work immediately, ignoring the big question mark above Hyunjin's head.

"So, how are you managing here? Is Isaac treating you well?"- Barbara asks Hyunjin.

"Of course, he's taking great care of me."- he nods.

"What about our y/n here, she's quite the catch, don't you think?"- Barbara nudges his arm, winking at him and nodding at you.

Hyunjin panics, his lips opening and closing as you chuckle, looking up from the flowers before you.

"I'm right here, you know?"- you shake your head with a small smirk on your face.

Hyunjin looks absolutely embarassed and you feel for him, your own heart beating fast in your chest but you're trying to look calm and collected on the outside.

"What? I'm just saying, you're both young and... single?"- she looks at Hyunjin who nods just as you look up. "Why not make the best of it while you have time?"

Hyunjin went to answer but Barbara kept talking.

"Ah, I wish I had more time with my Albert. But he's gone in the clouds and there's nothing I can do about it. I do have my cats though. I know they love me."- she nods to herself as if to bring herself some comfort.

"They do."- you smile, giving her the finished bouquet. "It's on the house."

"Y/n, you are such a darling, you know that?"- Barbara smiles happily before winking at Hyunjin.

"Ah, it's nothing."- you wave your hand as she makes her way out.

"See you later, my little lovebirds!"- she chirps before walking out of the shop.

"Don't mind her."- you notice Hyunjin's flushed face and contemplative look.

"Right."- he purses his lips before giving you a small, shy smile that makes your stomach do flips.

"Hey, so what are you doing in the evening?"- Hyunjin asks, breaking the quiet moment and your heart skips a beat again.

"Not much. Why?"- you ask, getting back to your previous bouquet just to busy your hands and eyes with something else.

"I was thinking that you could show me more of the island."- Hyunjin says, biting on his lip nervously and your eyes get stuck there.

"I would love to, but the places I want to show you are not that welcoming during the night. But we can take a walk on a beach nearby if you're up for that?"- you suggest.

"Oh, that sounds great. I'll meet you back here around 7?"- he asks and you nod.

"Alright, sounds good."- you smile. "Are you leaving?"

"I mean, I don't wanna be a bother while you work."- he smiles awkwardly.

"You're not. Look around, there's no customers, only flowers."- you chuckle, gesturing with your hands theatrically and Hyunjin laughs, taking a deep breath in after that, the smell of all the flowers mixing together and getting him somewhat lightheaded.

"Can I help you somehow?"- he asks.

"You don't have to. You can just sit and..."- your eyes fall to his backpack. "Maybe sketch if you want?"

"I could do that."- Hyunjin stares wistfully at the sketchbook poking out of the bag. "I do need some coffee first. You?"

"Sure, you can get some for us at Bennet's restaurant."- you say.

Hyunjin grabs his wallet and leaves, coming back just in time as you finish the bouquet.

"Thanks."- you say as he hands you the coffee and you bring him out a chair.

"I can never have enough coffee and I think this is my fourth cup this morning?"- Hyunjin tilts his head with a confused look on his face before he sits down.

"I don't think your intestines will be too happy about that."- you chuckle and he giggles embarassingly. "But who am I to talk? I'm also crazy for coffee."

"I actually woke up pretty early this morning, at 4am."- Hyunjin starts.

"Oh?"- you encourage him to keep talking as you start preparing the second bouquet.

"Yes, I went fishing with Delmar."

"You did?"- you smile. "How was it?"

"Oddly calming."- Hyunjin squints, playing with the pages of his sketchbook absentmindedly.

"Delmar has that effect. He seems boisterous but he's a relaxed man. Plus, being on the sea in the crack of dawn must be really relaxing."

"It was, my mind was blank. I was just enjoying the moment, and I don't really get a lot of chances to just be in the moment like that in my daily life."- Hyunjin sighs.

"Really? You must be very famous."- you chuckle a little, arranging the flowers.

"Nah."- Hyunjin shakes his head and finally opens his sketchbook, propping it on his thigh that's propped up on his other leg. He looks around as you let out a snicker.

"I kinda don't believe that."- you say, as Hyunjin presses his hand on the page.

"You're kinda famous too, though. At least here on the island. You're the only florist here."- he makes a point as you work away and hear the scratches of his pen on the paper.

"I guess I am."- you chuckle. "So, did the two of you catch anything?"

"Oh, we sure did! He brought some to the restaurant and some for himself and then for Isaac. So, I think I caught my own lunch."- Hyunjin lets out a laugh.

"It's gonna be even more delicious, trust me."- you smile and you fall into small talk, you putting on some gentle music in the background to keep the atmosphere sweet and light.

The small talk eventually turns into comfortable silence as you work on the bouquets and Hyunjin works on his sketch.

Both of you are as calm as can be, lost in your own imagination but aware of each other's presence, instilling some kind of comfort into one another's soul.

The quiet acoustic music adds new notes to the already intoxicating smell of the flowers, bringing a trance-like state to the pair of you.

Hyunjin doesn't even realize it but his heart is guiding his hand for the first time in what feels like an eternity, amidst the shapes of the flowers his pen finds the shape of you.

You finish up the last bouquet and look at Hyunjin, your heart stirring awake again at the sight of his brows furrowed, his lips parted, his hair is now down as he runs a hand through it.

He tilts his head left and right as he stares at his sketchbook adding lines seemingly at random, but it makes perfect sense as every single dot creates a full picture that says more than a thousand words.

He must've felt your eyes on him as he looks directly at you, catching you staring at him.

"Are you done with your arrangments?"- he asks and you nod.

"I think I'm done too."- he smiles proudly, still somewhat timid at the same time as he brings the sketchbook closer to his face.

"Can I see?"- you ask and he quickly nods, his hands shaking a little as he reaches the sketchbook towards you.

Your hands accept the somewhat heavy book and as your eyes adjust, you gasp.

"Is that- is that me?"- you ask, your throat dry suddenly.

"Yeah. You and all your flowers."- Hyunjin smiles fondly but you can't look up from the sketch.

"It's beautiful."- you say, mesmerized.

You're beautiful. He wants to say, but the words die on his tongue and he swallows them.

"It is."- he says and you look at him, your legs suddenly feel like they're made out of jelly.

"Can I have a look through?"- you ask and Hyunjin stands up.

"Sure, there's not much there though. As you know, I'm experiencing a little art block right now."- he scratches the back of his head as he stands next to you, the warmth from his body heating you up to your very core.

"That's okay."- you flip the pages to the beginning.

As you look through, all the unfinished sketches that Hyunjin has abandoned and hated, surfacing out and reflecting in your eyes, bring out his vunerability out in the open, letting you have it and do with it as you wish.

The numb pain that suffocated him in the city, pricks at his heart like little invisible needles as you silently study the unfinished buildings, faces and views. The severed hands reaching out for your throat and huge laughing mouths with teeth so big that lurk in the dark with the intent to swallow you whole.

At last, you come to the wave, the one smudged with Hyunjin's pain in liquid form and you turn the page slowly to see the sketch of you he just finished.

"Not exactly what you expected, huh?"- Hyunjin asks as you bite on your lip and stare at the drawing.

"It's really gloomy, most of the time."- you say quietly before you look up at Hyunjin.

Time seems to be frozen in one frame as his face is close to yours and you can count all the unfallen tears in his eyes and hear every gentle breath he takes in.

Hyunjin becomes entranced by your beauty and the way you look at him, like you actually see him, like you actually know him, like your eyes are somehow magical, connecting your heart to them and pouring out into his own heart, seeing the tip of the ugly inside him and still not turning away.

His hand reaches up and your breath gets stuck in your throat as Hyunjin touches your hair delicately.

"There was a petal in your hair."- he whispers, holding onto it and showing you the red petal of the gardenias you worked with just a few moments earlier.

"Oh, thanks."- you chuckle, leaning away a little as you come back to reality.

You clear your throat and hand him back his sketchbook and Hyunjin still looks somewhat hypnotized.

"Well, it's almost my lunch time. Do you want to join me?"- you ask and that seems to break his trance.

"Um, Isaac asked me to have lunch with him. But, let's have a raincheck on lunch, and I'll uh- see you tonight?"- Hyunjin is somewhat panicked as he hurries to his backpack to put his sketchbook away.

"Yeah, see you. Have a good lunch!"- you stand on your tippytoes as he suddenly slings his backpack on his shoulders.

"You too!"- he calls with a smile before hurrying out of your shop, leaving you confused with a mix of feelings and his smell enveloping you in a hug, even more prominent than all the flowers surrounding you.

What was that?

Hyunjin can't wrap his mind around the overwhelming feeling blossoming inside him.

When was the last time he felt like that, when just one look from you could make him crumble and crawl at your feet?

It's dangerous waters he's dipping his toes in but he can't help but want to emerge his entire being into the wild stream and let it take him wherever it wants as long as he gets to hold onto your hand the whole time.

The urge to kiss you when you looked deep into his eyes, staring right into his wounded soul was almost too hard to tame. His eyes flutter like delicate wings of a butterfly and his lips purse involuntarily as he imagines pressing them into yours, drinking you in like you're the very water that quenches his deep-seated thirst.

You may not have put your kind hand in his, but your loving nature touched him, played some kind of intricate song inside his heart and Hyunjin knows it's too late to even try and back out.

The seed was becoming a sprout and now it needed the sun's warmth and the freshness of water to nurture it into a full blossom.

Hyunjin opens the door to Isaac's house only to be greeted by loud laughter coming from the dining room. He leaves his backpack next to one of the shelves in the hall and follows the sound.

"Oh, here's my helper!"- Delmar turns to look at Hyunjin with a wide smile, a glass of red wine in his hand.

"Come join us, Hyunjin. You came just in time! I prepared the fish for lunch."- Isaac beckons him quickly.

Both of the men's cheeks are rosy indicating they've been enjoying the red liquid for some time already.

Hyunjin joins them, and as soon as his butt touches the chair, Delmar pours some wine in his glass.

"Drink up!"- he chuckles and the three men clink their glasses.

The meal is filled with laughter and stories from the older men's younger days and Hyunjin feels a pleasant buzz in his body from the wine, his mind constantly running back to you.

Hyunjin's glass is never empty even when he drinks the last drop, the space gets filled with more. The men have now started singing and talking nonsensical things, so Hyunjin excuses himself, getting up on wobbly feet as the alcohol rushes through his bloodstream.

Delmar protests but Isaac calms him down.

"Let the boy go. He's got plans."- Isaac looks at Hyunjin pointedly and Hyunjin hiccups as his face gets incredibly warmer.

"Hope those plans involve a pretty lady."- Delmar wears somewhat of a sleazy smile making Isaac scold him.

He must get like that when he's drunk and Isaac shuts him up before he can say anything else.

Hyunjin grabs his backpack and makes his way upstairs, feeling a bit disoriented as the wooden sculptures scrutinize him and observe his drunken stumbling.

He walks into his room, closing the door and weariness washes over him, making him topple over and fall on his bed face first, a grunt leaving his lips, muffled by the covers.

Hyunjin turns on his side and falls asleep instantly.

His dreams are a whirlwind of moving pictures, the red smiling faces of Delmar and Isaac, your kind eyes and soft hands, his mother's cold ones squeezing his heart until the last drop of blood has seeped between her knuckles. His canvases, splashed with color turning into thick blood that slowly drips down onto his expensive shoes.

Nothing makes sense anymore, unless it's filled with you.

Hyunjin awakes with a start, finding that he has an ache in his neck and that he's covered in sweat after the alcohol-inducing turmoil of dreams that have tortured him. His eyes adjust on the clock sitting on his nightstand and he gasps, lifting up in panic.

It's already 6:20pm and he feels like he's been run over by ten trucks. He gets up quickly, peeling his sticky clothes away, feeling gross as he hops in the shower, the cool water calming down his simmering skin.

Hyunjin's eyes are closed as he stands under the water, snippets of his tortured dreams playing behind his eyelids.

He hasn't called his mother in months. Maybe he should do that one of these days. Just not today, not when you've made his day beautiful, brought back a piece of his soul with just your existence. He doesn't want to be ripped to pieces again, his mother's cold voice piercing through his skin like a knife that twists and turns until he becomes numb to the pain it inflicts.

Shivers settle in his body, all the way to his bones and he turns the water up to a warmer temperature, closing his eyes once again and thinking of you.

You, surrounded by all the delicate flowers, you who is so strong but gentle and loving like a summer breeze caressing the landscape and swaying the grass like you're making it dance.

You, who are making his heart dance too after he thought it withered and shriveled up, dying between the cold concrete, buried somewhere to be forgotten.

No, it is not forgotten or buried, it is resting in your hands that are warming it up and watering it with the kindness that's undoubtedly running through your very being like you were made from nothing but pure love.

Hyunjin craves you, craves to be close to you but he thinks he doesn't know how.

Maybe it's because he's coming down from the alcohol, maybe it's because of his mother's bitterness or maybe it's because you actually see him, but he lets his hot tears mix with the droplets of water sliding down his cheeks to be taken away by the drain.

He'll be okay. He'll be okay. He'll be okay.

Standing in front of your flower shop, you're jumping from foot to foot in excitement.

You've spent the afternoon in a kind of haze, like you were walking on clouds the whole time, your heart full of Hyunjin.

You couldn't stop thinking about him, and you didn't want to, with him everything felt right.

The way he looked at you and smiled at you, the closeness of his face to yours poured a comforting feeling all over your body and soul, making you wish you could fall into him deep and let him catch you and hold you until the end of time.

Any other man who held you close, whose hands touched your skin, whose lips kissed yours, none of them had been inside you the way Hyunjin is, not even if they were physically inside you, it all meant nothing next to Hyunjin's presence embracing your heart.

He's five minutes late and you see him rushing towards you like a hurricane coming down at you, his legs taking long strides as his cardigan flails behind him like a magic cape, his hair wilding around his smiling face.

"I am so sorry for being late!"- he says as soon as he's within earshot.

"It's okay, it's only five minutes."- you chuckle and he tries to open his mouth just to cough and you let out another giggle. "Take a few deep breaths."

He does so, opening the water bottle in his hand and taking a few much needed gulps.

"You didn't have to run like that."- you said.

"I didn't wanna make you wait."- he smiles apologetically.

"I don't really have anywhere else to be."- you snicker and he laughs a little.

"So you're just hanging out with me to kill some time?"- he asks as you start walking.

"Something of that sort."- you tease.

"Ouch."- Hyunjin shakes his head, his hand splayed dramatically over his heart.

He knows you're only joking with the smile you give to him, and the two of you walk closer than you did before, your shoulders brushing a few times as you make your way to the beach, electric shockwaves running through your bodies.

"So... I got a little drunk in the afternoon."- Hyunjin pouts comically and you burst into laughter.

"Let me guess. Delmar and Isaac."

"How'd you know?"- he asks and you giggle.

"I've kinda been living here my whole life."- you joke. "They're always like that when they get together."

"Good to know but, I mean, you could've warned me before."- Hyunjin teases.

"Eh, even if I did warn you, they'd find a way to rope you into their shenanigans."- you shake your head as the gravel crunches beneath your feet again, noisy in the otherwise quiet evening.

"I believe that."- Hyunjin chuckles. "Also, they got even more shitfaced than me. It was horrible!"

You laugh, your shoulder bumping against Hyunjin's again and he shivers.

"I fell asleep after, that's why I was late."- Hyunjin excuses himself, not mentioning how hard it was to stop the tears flowing once they'd been released.

"It's okay, I really don't mind. You woke up at 4am anyways, I guess you needed sleep."

"You're right."- Hyunjin nods as you finally make it to the beach.

"Wanna sit over there?"- you ask, pointing at some rocks near the water.

"Sure."- he nods.

The sun is almost swallowed by the sea now, the first stars making themselves visible on the slowly darkening sky.

Hyunjin stares up as the two of you sit down on a towel you brought.

"That's Venus."

"The planet?"- Hyunjin stares at the shining dot.

"Mhm. It's visible during this time of the day."

"How do you recognize it?"

"Planets don't flicker when air passes by them. Stars do. And they're usually bigger and brighter. Plus if you observe the sky a little too much, you will learn the movements and placements."- you look down from the shiny planet to find Hyunjin looking at you now.

"Do you?"- he asks, his eyes flicking to your lips.

"Do I what?"

"Observe the sky a little too much?"- he chuckles and your face warms up a little as you giggle embarassingly.

"Only sometimes. It's just a mindblowing fact that were actually looking at the past."- you say, turning away to see the sun has settled down, the sky becoming more darkened, pulling the blanket of stars further over itself.

"I heard about that. But I don't understand how it works."- Hyunjin admits, a sheepish smile on his face as you look at him.

"Because of the speed of light. For example, the star Sirius is some 8.6 light years away. That means the light from it that's hitting us tonight has been traveling for 8.6 years."- you explain and Hyunjin gasps a little.

"So we're looking at something that has happened 8.6 years before?"- he asks, pursing his lips as he looks up, his brows furrowed.

"Mhm. And the further the star is, the effect gets bigger. Like there are stars that are millions and millions light years away. They may even not exist anymore but the time it took the light to travel to our eyes makes it seem like it's still there in the sky now."

"That's insane!"

"It is."- you chuckle at Hyunjin's flabbergasted expression.

"You're really smart."- he smiles at you.

"Nah, I just have a lot of time on my hands."- you say and he shakes his head.

"I know other people who also have lots of time but they waste it on dumb shit so you are definitely smart."- he nods and you laugh.

"Alright, if you insist."- you say and he laughs, only then making you notice how close he is to you, your knees brushing against each other's.

"What's that one?"- Hyunjin points to something in the sky and you lean closer to look at the direction.

"The three stars?"- you ask and he nods. "Orion's belt. Look."- you slowly trace it with your finger in the air and Hyunjin follows with his eyes.

"It's a constellation."- you say.

"Wow, why does it look like there are actual lines between the stars?"- Hyunjin asks.

"I guess we like patterns, so much so that we tend to create them even where they don't really exist. We need to pinpoint the meaning of things that surround us."- you gesture with your hands.

"I guess that's true. Don't you think there's some kind of pattern to it all though?"- Hyunjin asks.

"Sometimes I do and sometimes I don't. Like there are moments of synchronicity that really make me think that there are some big hands up there, rearranging everything to fall perfectly into place. But then some other times, I just think life is random and the universe doesn't care about us, it's just chaos that we're trying to make sense of for the sake of our own sanity."- you explain.

"Don't you think us sitting here together has some deeper meaning?"- Hyunjin asks and you look at him.

"Maybe it does, maybe it doesn't. It doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things though, as long as it has meaning to us."- you smile and he returns the smile, thousands of stars reflecting in his brown eyes.

"I like that. It doesn't have to be some great design, just something we make out of it."

"Sometimes it's better not to question those things and think too deeply into it because it can drive you crazy."- you say.

"I agree with that. Overthinking about anything drives you crazy anyways. That's why I try to put all those swirling thoughts out on blank canvases. Or well, I used to do that, now I just feel a bit lost."- Hyunjin sighs as he looks at his lap, his fingers picking at a loose thread off his jeans.

"It's okay to be lost sometimes. It can actually be good, I think. It helps you find something new and maybe something even better than what you had before."- you observe the way his hair falls around his face, framing him like the most beautiful painting on a wall of some prestigious museum.

"True, I guess I became too rigid about everything and detached from myself. I'm slowly coming back to me, being here. Away from all the shit in the city."

"What is so bad there that's got you this lost?"- you ask and Hyunjin freezes a little.

"You're gonna think I'm a horrible person if I tell you."- Hyunjin doesn't look up at you.

"I doubt that. Really, I won't judge."- you say and your gentle voice soothes Hyunjin's scared heart.

What if you hate him after he says it all out loud? Could he lie to you and tell you some other story, one that doesn't belong to him? No, he could never lie to you, tarnish whatever it is that's entwined between you now.

"Well. If I'm honest with myself in this moment, I became a sell-out."- he snorts sarcastically. "I used to paint for the love of art, but now it's just for money. My manager pushes me a lot. I even opened up my own gallery with his help, where I host shows of my own and of course help other artists with their exhibitions. I always wanted that, you know, to do what I love and actually make money from it. But it just doesn't feel like me anymore? You know that saying, be careful what you wish for?"- he looks up at you and you nod carefully.

"Well, I got exactly what I wanted. My name in lights, my paintings on the walls, and all the expensive shit I could ever afford. It's just that, at the end of the day I'm lonely and indifferent to the world around me. It feels like I'm a shadow of who I used to be, just an empty shell going in a fucking circle."- Hyunjin lifts his arms up in frustration, before letting them fall in his lap again.

"And I have to do some things I'm not proud of."

"Like?"- you say quietly and he looks at you.

"You know what exclusive rich people parties include?"- he asks and you nod slowly.

"Drugs?"- you ask and he sighs.

"Sadly, yes."

"Can't you just say no?"- you tilt your head at him.

"Ha! My manager would eat me alive if I missed any chance to have some sleazy rich fucker buy my shit."- Hyunjin shakes his head.

"I know I sound like a spoiled rich guy and that is exactly what I despise. I never wanted to become this, you know."

"Hey, it's okay."- you smile a little. "We all have our burdens. If it's any consolation, I feel lonely too. The only time I'm not lonely is when I'm in my garden, cause the flowers are alive and they're there for me. I know it sounds crazy because they don't understand me and they can't talk back to me but I feel like they can still listen for some reason. Since my mom died, I never had anyone that close to me, well, I was kind of lonely next to her too. She'd spend more time in her garden than with me. I hated her a little for that."

"I hate my mother a little too."- Hyunjin had never said it out loud and he almost gasps at the slip up. "No, I hate her a lot."- he bites his lip, it's out now.

"How so? If you want to share."

"She never loved me. She only loved her paintings and she wanted me to be absolutely perfect. Sometimes she'd make me paint for hours and hours until my hands were cramping and she didn't care if I cried so I stopped that and never cried before her again. She wanted me to go to the most prestigious academy, the one she attended too, to become some acclaimed painter. She scrutinized every single detail, not just in my paintings, but me in general and one time I talked back to her. Oh, she didn't like that at all. I cursed her out and she slapped me across the face and called me an ungrateful bastard. So, I sat and painted even with my head throbbing with pain. So, ugh, I have a love-hate relationship with what I do. I'd love to just paint for my soul, not for other people. Also, I am sorry for trauma dumping."- Hyunjin feels embarassed as he looks at you but you are still there, gentle as ever, your eyes kind as you scoot closer to him.

"It's okay, we're both kinda doing that tonight."- you chuckle quietly. "I'm sorry you had to go through all that, it's horrible to not have your mother's warmth while growing up, I can kinda relate to that. My mother was a little more present than yours, but ultimately she was living for her flowers. She screamed at me when she was sick, telling me to go take care of her garden and not let her flowers die, she threatened to crawl into the garden herself and do it even if she died right next to them. She was hard to take care of when she fell sick. I know this is horrible to say, but I couldn't wait for her to die. She'd be in peace, I'd be in peace. Like I had to leave my whole life in the city to move back here and take care of her. And she was difficult on purpose."

"I'm sorry y/n. That really must've felt horrible."- Hyunjin looks at you sympathetically.

"Glad it's over now. It's just that sometimes I feel like I'm becoming her."

"You're definitely not."- Hyunjin says quickly.

"How do you know?"- you tilt your head at him.

"You're too warm and kind to be cold to people around you."- he smiles, making your cheeks warm up.

"Oh. Thank you?"- you say and he chuckles.

"Look at us, getting closer through our mommy issues."- Hyunjin shakes his head and you laugh, shivering a little.

"Are you cold?"- Hyunjin notices and you nod.

"A little. Forgot my jacket."- you say.

Hyunjin doesn't say anything, just takes his cardigan off and gently drapes it over your shoulders.

"Aren't you gonna be cold?"- you ask, your heart beating fast as you put your arms through the sleeves, enveloping yourself in Hyunjin's scent and warmth.

"No, I'm warmed up."- he smiles at you sweetly, his cheeks rosy.

"So, how long are you planning on staying here?"- you ask, looking up ahead as the darkness had settled in, making it hard to discern where the sky starts and the sea ends.

"I don't know yet. Honestly, I never want to leave."- Hyunjin says and you chuckle a little.

"I guess the charm of our little island has gotten to you."- you wiggle your eyebrows at him and he giggles.

"It definitely did."- his eyes are on your lips again, and your chest constricts at the thought of Hyunjin going back to the city and leaving you behind.

"That's good to hear. You're welcome to stay here and become a permanent resident."- you smile and he thanks you dramatically before the two of you fall into more light topics of favorite movies and music, just to lift up the heaviness from before.

It is well after midnight as Hyunjin walks you home, insisting that you keep the cardigan and return it to him some other day.

And as he walks back to Isaac's house, the black clouds gather more closely.

Hyunjin lays in bed that night, restless and inspired, excited and aroused, in love and out of his mind. Grabbing his sketchbook he works tirelessly into the wee morning hours, drawing shapes of you into the pages, shapes that are already etched into his heart. The hand that was holding his pen, eventually ends up between his legs, as he imagines the two of you shaped like a tide, waves crashing on the rocks in fervor, sweat dripping down his forehead as he clutches himself and moves faster. He wants you, needs you, loves you. And he realizes that when your name spills from his lips just as he spills on his hand, hips stuttering from the explosive feeling it brought to him.

You are restless too, clutching onto his cardigan, giddy like some teenage girl with a high school crush, and you dare to dream about him, your mind constantly going back to the brushes of knees and eyes on lips. Your fingers dance on your skin, imagining it's Hyunjin's, hot and wet on your core and inside you as you inhale his scent.

As the white explodes behind your eyelids, a fire burns within your soul, the warm sea gushing between your legs, fireworks sizzling through your body, your mind screams his name.

Hyunjin. Hyunjin. Hyunjin.

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inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 7 months ago

Text

Where Will All The Martyrs Go [Chapter 8: She's The Salt Of The Earth And She's Dangerous]

A/N: Be sure to vote in the poll pinned to the top of my blog AFTER you finish reading!!! 🥰

Series summary: In the midst of the zombie apocalypse, both you and Aemond (and your respective travel companions) find yourselves headed for the West Coast. It’s the 2024 version of the Oregon Trail, but with less dysentery and more undead antagonists. Watch out for snakes! 😉🐍

Series warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), violence, bodily injury, med school Aemond, character deaths, nature, drinking, smoking, drugs, Adventures With Aegon™️, pregnancy and childbirth, the U.S. Navy, road trip vibes, RIP Jace (again).

Series title is a lyric from: “Letterbomb” by Green Day.

Chapter title is a lyric from: “She's A Rebel” by Green Day.

Word count: 7.4k

💜 All my writing can be found HERE! 💜

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist 🥰

“I’m sorry if I was a creep when we first met,” Aegon says. He’s been oddly philosophical since he was burned. “I hadn’t seen a hot single chick in a while, and I wanted to fuck you.”

Cregan siphoned just enough gas from a decrepit Chrysler Sebring in Merna to take the Tahoe two and a half hours west to Little Thunder Bay Campground on the shores of Lake McConaughy, a manmade reservoir and New Deal project from the 1930s. You glance over at Aegon dubiously, amused. “Do I count as hot?”

“Yeah, Chippendales, you’re hot. In like a…you live in a cabin and knit sweaters by a crackling fireplace kind of way.”

You smile. “So you got over that.”

“Oh no, I still want to fuck you. Now I just know you better, so I wouldn’t want to offend you by being obnoxious about it.”

“That’s sweet, I guess. I appreciate your discretion.”

“No problem. If you ever decide you want to take a ride on a less distinguished Targaryen brother, let me know.”

The two of you are fishing from a boat launch, dry splintering planks of wood, opaque rippling water, soft wind and bright sunshine from an aquamarine, cloudless sky. Cregan found the fishing poles in the abandoned RV you’ve moved into, a Winnebago Spirit with one of those stick figure family decals on the back window, Mom, Dad, four lovely children and a dog too, all of whom are perhaps alive but more likely dead and in any case nowhere to be found here in this tranquil corner of western Nebraska, 150 miles from the Wyoming border. Helaena digs worms from the earth, then Rhaena slices them into wriggling segments with a hunting knife and brings them to you and Aegon to be impaled on barbed hooks. Aemond, Rio, Daeron, Luke, and Cregan are swimming about twenty yards down the beach, soaked boxer shorts and nothing else, splashing each other and scrubbing the grime off their skin from a morning spent gathering wood for the firepit and the grill; Ice is paddling joyfully alongside them. Baela floats on her back and peers vacantly up into the vast blue nothingness. Aegon is not permitted in the water, as his leg is an open wound beneath his bandages. You ask him as you recast your fishing line: “Why are you like this?”

“Like what?”

You shrug, smirking guiltily. You thought it was obvious.

Aegon throws back his head and cackles, slow and lazy. “Oh, I get it. A loser.”

“I didn’t say loser.”

“You thought loser.”

“I implied loser.”

“It’s alright. I’ve been called worse things by people I admire much less.” He contemplates his answer as he gazes down into the water, sluggish stoned reverie. Aemond must be almost out of morphine by now. At last Aegon says: “I think the first thing I ever learned was that no matter how hard I tried, no one was ever going to love me. Not in a normal kind of way, Disney movie love, Christmas rom-com love. So I stopped trying. Mother wanted me to play piano, so I bombed the recital. Father wanted me to be a doctor or a lawyer, so I skipped class, went golfing and yachting, didn’t even bother to pay someone to write halfway decent essays for me. If they couldn’t love me unconditionally, I wasn’t interested in meeting their conditions.” Then he chuckles, the breeze combing through his hair, ninety degrees and only getting hotter. “I refused to work. All you’ve ever done is work. You must hate me.”

“No, I get it.” You reel in your line; a fish has stolen the worm from your hook, tiny clandestine nibbles. You impale a slimy new victim and recast. “No one wants to be used.”

“Yeah. Exactly. I wasn’t going to spend my life doing shit I didn’t want to do so my parents could brag about me to their insufferable friends and absolve themselves of their mistakes. Mother married a man who didn’t give a fuck about her, Father ignored us all. Me being a success story would have given them the impression they did something right. I couldn’t have that.”

So Aemond had to be the success story instead. You glance down the beach at where he is bursting through the water and slicking back his dripping hair from his face, showing Luke a bone he found in the muddy silt of Lake McConaughy, hopefully not human.

Aegon follows your eyeline. “Aemond went the other way, I guess. Always so pathetically desperate for their approval. Scrabbling for crumbs of it like a rat. That’s what the thing with Alys was all about, it’s the only explanation I have. Older woman, surrogate mother, comforting but chilly, fawning but forbidden, always keeping him at an arm’s length and rewarding his tricks with treats.” He smirks flirtatiously, then sees that he’s hurt you. “Oh, um, I mean…look, it wasn’t…it wasn’t a good thing, you know? He wasn’t happy. It was a seven-year-long psychotic episode, not a relationship.”

“You mentioned that Criston likes Aemond,” you say, pivoting. “The…what is he? A family friend, an assistant?”

“My mother’s personal security guard. And yeah, he cares about Aemond. He’s proud of him, he trust him, he thinks he’s more capable than any of the rest of us, and that’s probably true. It’s definitely true compared to me. But that doesn’t mean Criston always knows how to express it.”

You look out over the water, trying not to imagine Aemond touching Alys, this woman you hate without knowing her face. You wonder if he ever wishes you were more like her: older, clever, entrancing, masterful. “It must have been a strange way to grow up.”

“Cold,” Aegon says. “Hollow. Holidays, birthdays, vacations, everything. You go through the motions but something’s always missing. When you’re little, you think it’s your fault, and then eventually you realize that they’re going to be miserable whether you’re there or not. But you can get out if you’re willing to run far enough.” He scratches at his forearm, and your eyes catch fleetingly on the black ink of his tattoo: It’s not over ‘til you’re underground. You had told Rio something similar when you were stranded on that transmission tower in Catawissa, Pennsylvania. “This is fucked up, and I don’t mean that I don’t feel bad about what happened to Jace, and I get that millions of people have died agonizing deaths, and that all sucks, believe me, I know, but this…” He gestures vaguely, to the zombies and the desolation and the collapse of everything you’ve ever known. “It was kind of my Get Out Of Jail Free card. And in a weird way…sometimes I feel like I’ve been happier since the world ended than I ever was before.”

You smile. You know what he means. “Even if your leg gets infected and we have to saw it off without anesthesia like you’re a Civil War soldier?”

Aegon laughs and shakes his head, his hair flopping around. It’s almost long enough for him to have a man bun like Cregan’s if he wanted one “No, probably not. Also, what’s the Civil War?”

“Forget it.”

“No, now I want to know.”

“It’s kind of a long story.”

“Aemond said something interesting this morning while you were picking blackberries with our favorite Trump supporter,” Aegon tells you, salacious and sly, offering a tantalizing morsel he knows you’re powerless to refuse. He pauses and waits for you to admit it to yourself.

“Fine. Okay. What?”

“He said that when you and Cregan are standing next to each other, you look like you belong together.”

You groan, quite loudly. “I have zero interest in Cregan romantically. Literally zero. I don’t think he sees me that way either.”

Aegon shrugs. “The dating pool is awfully small nowadays, Banana Chip. Anyone who’s not a corpse or an immediate blood relative starts to look tasty.”

“So that’s why you like me.”

Aegon grins, teeth he shows often and easily, so unlike Aemond in every way. “No. I think I’d like you anywhere.” He tugs languidly on his fishing pole. “I want a new golf club.” He forgot his at the house in Broken Bow where Jace died.

“We’ll see.”

“I want new shoes too.” One of his Sperry Bahama sneakers was burned beyond repair and filled with shreds of his own singed flesh, scraps like soft bacon fused with the padding and insole. “And some polos.”

“I’m not a Big Lots.”

“Who the fuck shops at Big Lots?” Aegon’s fishing line jerks, and he yanks hard on the pole before reeling in his catch. Suspended at the end is a long green creature, yellowish spots and a villainous angular face. “That is one ugly bitch.”

“It’s a pike,” you say, and then when you grab it you observe that the misfortunate fish has the barb of the hook piercing not through its lip but one of its bulging, glassy eyes. “Oh my God!”

Aegon squeals, horrified. He offers no meaningful assistance. “That’s so gross, that’s so gross, what are we going to do?!”

“We have to, like, I don’t know, grab the back of the hook from inside its mouth and pull it out of the eyeball, I guess…?!”

“Yeah, awesome. Good luck with that.”

You reach tentatively into the pike’s gaping mouth. Its jaws snap shut, needlelike teeth stinging your wrist. “Ow!”

“Cregan!” Aegon bellows. “Cregan, help!”

Now the others are running to the boat launch to see what’s going on, Helaena and Rhaena from the shore, everyone else from the lake, Luke helping Baela wring the water from her sundress and Ice galloping alongside Cregan. He gets a look at the pike and guffaws, loud and rumbling.

“Poor little guy. That’s some bad luck he’s got.”

“Can you get the hook out?” you ask, eager to surrender the fish, which is still thrashing franticly and gnashing its teeth, mindless cold-blooded death throes.

“Of course I can.” Cregan plucks the pike from your grasp, shoves his massive hand into its mouth, and rips the hook out with one effortless maneuver. The pike is freed, but its eyeball remains speared on the hook. Then Cregan spies blood on your wrist. “You okay there, Miss Chips?”

“Oh yeah. I’m fine.”

“Freaking disgusting, man,” Aegon mutters; he and Rio are ogling the disembodied eyeball, complete with a frayed optic nerve like a tail, with identical, stunned revulsion.

You turn to smile up at Aemond, but he doesn’t notice you. He is staring at Cregan, his sole blue eye narrow and fixed and flat like still water.

~~~~~~~~~~

“The closest town is Ogallala,” Aegon says as he lays his map across the wooden picnic table. The rest of you are seated around him and picking flaky white meat from between the thin, fragile bones of the pike, which Cregan has gutted and cooked on the large metal grill that careless camping families once roasted marshmallows and hotdogs over. Helaena is at the edge of the table and writing in her spider notebook, elegant loops of cursive. Ice is lying on her belly and gnawing on a rabbit she killed for herself, its doomed black eyes gazing up at you.

“That has to be what, ten miles south?” Rio says apprehensively.

Aegon licks grease from his fingers. “Yup. A little more, probably.”

“What about Lemoyne?” Daeron says, pointing. “Or Keystone, or even Belmar? They’re all closer.”

“See how small the names are written?” Aegon tells him. “That means they’re not actual communities. They’re like a few stop signs and maybe a Dollar General and that’s it.”

“I love Dollar General,” Cregan says, nostalgic. “Man, do y’all remember Chicken in a Biskit? I used to park myself in front of the tv and eat boxes and boxes—”

“It has to be Ogallala,” Aemond insists. “We need pharmacies and grocery stores and cars to siphon gas from, we need a real town.”

Rhaena chews her lower lip anxiously. “The Tahoe is empty. We have maybe half a gallon left and that’s it. Just enough to get down to Ogallala if we’re lucky, but not back.”

“So we’ll drive until it dies and then we’ll walk. Cregan has a gas can in the back, if we find fuel we can bring some back to the Tahoe and continue from there.”

“Walk, huh?” Aegon says, looking down at his bandaged left leg, which he can’t put any weight on. He gets around by hopping, leaning against other people (oftentimes against their will), and being carried by Rio.

“Well, you’re not going,” Aemond tells him. “And Baela isn’t either.”

Baela, gazing blankly down at the map, says nothing. A brown striped snake darts through the grass only a few feet from the picnic table, moving swiftly towards the lake, and there are alarmed gasps and yelps.

“Northern water snake,” Helaena says, glancing up from her notebook. “Not venomous.”

“Good,” Rhaena replies with a shudder.

Luke says fearfully as he reads the map: “Aemond, last time we went into a town that big was Broken Bow, and…Jace…the farmhouse…”

Aemond slams his fists down on the table. “We have to, okay? We need food and water. We need bullets. I need more pain meds and bandages for Aegon, I need antiseptic and Neosporin, and Vaseline for when he’s healing, and supplies for when Baela goes into labor too, since I’ve had to use everything I had saved.”

“We need pads and tampons too,” Helaena says as she examines the black-ink inventory in her notebook. “And Advil, lip balm, bars of soap, hair ties, and socks and underwear. And that green jelly aloe vera stuff for Aegon’s sunburn.”

“Yeah, exactly,” Aemond agrees. “We need a lot of things. And we have to refuel so we can keep moving west.”

“We could stay here,” Baela says, so softly that at first you aren’t sure if you heard her right.

“What, Baela?” Rhaena asks gently.

“I want to stay here.” Baela is more resolute now. “I want to have the baby here.”

Nobody knows how to respond. Rio gives you a troubled glance. You nod in agreement, so subtly you doubt anyone else notices. Not an option.

Aemond is calm but unwavering. “Baela, I’m sorry, but that’s not possible.”

She pleads her case. “I like the Winnebago. I like the lake. I’m comfortable here, and we’re out in the middle of nowhere, and I…I think we could make this our home for a while, now that we’ve found someplace like this. Someplace quiet and safe.”

“We’re not safe here, Baela,” Aemond says. “It feels like we’re safe, but we’re not. We aren’t a big enough group to reliably be able to defend ourselves. We don’t have adequate supplies. We have a lake to our backs, sure, but the rest of the shoreline is open for anybody to walk right into, and our visibility is blocked by trees. No one has stumbled across us yet, but that doesn’t mean they won’t. And if they do we’re extremely vulnerable. But when we get to the west coast, we’ll be home.”

“I’m tired of running. I’m tired of being afraid.”

“I understand. I am too.”

“It’s different,” Baela says, abruptly fierce. “You don’t know what this feels like. None of you do. I’ve never given up and I’ve never asked to be taken care of, I’ve always been the strong one, but I’m so goddamn tired, and I want to have my baby here, and I…I…” Her large dark eyes are glistening, haunted. “Every time we’re driving I feel like I see him sitting next to me, or standing out in the middle of the road, and then I have to remember what happened all over again, and…I just…I don’t want to do this anymore.”

Rhaena takes Baela’s hands in her own, skims her thumbs across Baela’s knuckles; Luke rubs her back reassuringly. The rest of you can only offer silent, pitying looks. There are no easy answers, no fortuitous gold strikes, no shortcuts. The only way out is through.

“Whatever you guys decide, I’m leaving either way,” Rio says. “Sophie’s waiting for me in Oregon. I can’t just hang out in Nebraska forever. I’ll walk if I have to.”

“It’s over a thousand miles,” Aegon tells him.

“Doesn’t matter, man. I gotta do it.”

You add: “Obviously, I’d have to go with Rio.”

Both Aemond and Aegon appear startled. “We’ll be on the road again soon,” Aemond promises. “Tomorrow, if we can find gas in Ogallala.”

“I’m not going,” Baela whispers.

“We have to, Baela,” Rhaena implores. “It’ll be alright. We’ll take care of you, and the baby too when the time comes.”

Baela stands, strides to the Winnebago, disappears inside and slams the door behind her.

“She’ll be okay,” Rhaena tells the rest of you. “She’s…you know, she’s shaken up. She’s not thinking clearly. But she’ll realize this was the right decision. The only decision, really.”

“It’s best if we can get set up somewhere permanent before she goes into labor,” Aemond says, as if he’s defending himself. “Traveling with a baby…Baela recovering…it would be very dangerous for all of us.”

“Luke and I are thinking the same things, Aemond. We agree with you.”

He gives Rhaena an appreciative smile, very small but sincere. Then he turns to Daeron. “Baela and Aegon will have to wait here when I go south to Ogallala, since they can’t walk in the event the Tahoe runs out of gas. You’re going to stay behind to protect them.”

“Got it,” Daeron says soberly. All the bullets are gone; his compound bow, fed with arrows fashioned from sticks, is the best weapon you have left. Cregan has his axe, Rio still prefers to bash skulls with the butt of his Remington shotgun, everyone else must make do with hunting knives from that cellar back in Pennsylvania and kayak paddles found here at Lake McConaughy.

Aemond looks around the table. “I’ll need Rio, Cregan, and Luke.”

“And our beloved furball Blue Raspberry Icee,” Aegon says, smirking. “To sniff out any zombies.”

“Yes. Ice too.”

“What about me?” you say, staring incredulously at Aemond.

“Not you. You’re staying here in the RV.”

“If you and Rio are going, I’m going.”

“No, you’re not,” Aemond says. “You’re the best shot, and we all agree about that, but we’re fresh out of bullets. You therefore have no advantage tactically.”

“What’s Luke’s advantage?”

There are awkward chuckles. Aemond leaves the picnic table and gestures for you to follow him. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Why?”

Aemond doesn’t answer; he keeps walking until he’s hidden amongst a small grove of Kentucky coffeetrees, oval emerald leaves and umber seed pods that hang from branches, reminding you of skate egg cases—what some people call mermaid’s purses—you once found washed up on the beach outside Djibouti City. Rio teases you: “Ohhh, you’re in troubleee…”

You swat him on the back of the head; his hair is getting long too, dark curls that flutter in the breeze that comes in off the lake, hot and humid, the infinite wildness of July. “If I’m not going, you have to swear that you’ll—”

“I got it, I got it,” Rio says, blasé and jolly. “I’ll look underneath things, I’ll look on top of things, I’ll look everywhere. Okay?”

Aegon kicks him with his good foot. “Get me a golf club.”

“I’m not a Dick’s!”

“Dicks?! Who brought up dicks, you sicko…?!”

You go after Aemond and meet him in the shade, an island of twilight in the omnipotent golden morning. He pushes you against one of the Kentucky coffeetrees—rough bark to your back, prodding you through your t-shirt—and nuzzles your throat as he presses his hips to yours, blissful clandestine surrender as your knees weaken and you gaze dizzily up into the canopy of leaves.

You sigh: “This is not an explanation. This is a distraction. A very enjoyable one, but a distraction nonetheless.”

“Daeron is good with a bow, but he’s young,” Aemond murmurs. “I need you to help him protect the others.”

“You’ve managed to make this sound like a promotion.”

“And,” Aemond continues. “When things get risky and chaotic, and I’m trying to make sure everyone is safe…I find you being around to be…distracting.”

“Rio doesn’t think I’m a distraction.”

He chuckles, avoidant. “That’s not an equivalent situation.”

“I get that Luke has binoculars, but I am also perfectly capable of using binoculars, and I could borrow his and he could stay here. I really don’t think he’d mind being benched, he’d probably prefer it—”

“I always ask you to stay near Rio, and you never do, and then I have to worry about you getting lost or bitten or imperiled in any one of a million other ways.”

“Because it’s not that simple! Rio gets it, I have to be able to improvise—”

Suddenly, Aemond pulls away and asks: “Do you trust me?”

You are bewildered. “What?”

“Because I could understand if you don’t.”

You search his scarred face; he has that look like he’s trying not to reveal too much of himself, to show that he’s nervous or vulnerable or afraid. You touch your palm to his ravaged cheek, your voice soft. “I trust you, Aemond.”

He seems relived. “Good. Then please stay here.”

“You’ll watch out for Rio?” you say threateningly.

“Of course.”

“And yourself too.”

He grins, those small secretive teeth he loves to hide. “That’s the plan.”

“And you’ll check under things and on top of things, and you’ll remember what I said about the racks? When you go into stores and you’re rummaging through—?”

Aemond kisses you, warm and slow and kind, the curve of his lips pleased and mischievous. “It’s flattering that you’re so concerned.”

“And don’t forget the pads and tampons.”

His scarred eyebrow rises half an inch. “Oh?”

“I’m already having pre-period cramps. I’ll need supplies in a few days.”

“You’ll have them. Don’t fear.” Then he studies you, concerned, his brow furrowing and his palm testing your cheek and forehead. “You feeling okay? You’re sure that’s all it is?”

“Oh yeah, totally. It’s very routine at this point, I’ve had a decade to get accustomed.”

“Alright. If there’s anything else you think of before we head out, I’ll add it to the list.” He takes your hand and examines the shallow scratches left on your wrist by the needlelike teeth of the pike. “Let me clean and wrap that up for you. I think I have just enough bandages left.”

“Your worst nightmare came true,” you joke. “I was bitten after all.”

Aemond doesn’t laugh, doesn’t even smile.

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s long after nightfall and you and Aegon are keeping watch just outside the Winnebago Spirit, slumped in folding camping chairs people once told their legends from: scary stories, workplace grievances, familial mythology. In the firepit, logs split and pop, and embers glow a bloody red. You’re waiting for the Tahoe to return and trying not to think about the possibility it might not.

“These suck,” Aegon says, garbled by a mouthful of Cheddar Whales, grimacing at the bright blue box. “Why do you and Rio eat these? They’re like…dodgy Goldfish.”

“Are you kidding?! They’re way better than Goldfish! Goldfish don’t taste like anything.”

“And Cheddar Whales taste like salty cardboard. The American Dream.” Aegon passes the box back to you. “They better come back with some SpaghettiOs or Rice-A-Roni or something. I can’t survive on Cregan’s overcooked fish.” He lights a Marlboro Gold cigarette by sticking it into the fire and takes a deep drag, looking up at the stars. Aemond gave him the last of the morphine before he left, and Aegon is floating on a feathery, narcotic cloud.

You say after at last working up the nerve: “So you’re a slut, right?”

He snickers, firelight dancing on his sunburned face. “Slut, loser, you’ve got me all figured out.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Yeah, I guess I’m a slut. Why?”

“Have you ever had trouble…” Your hands flail around aimlessly; it’s so awkward to say out loud. “You know…getting it in?”

“No, not really. But I’m hung like a hamster.” He looks over at you, curious shimmering stoned blue eyes. “Technical difficulties, Chip And Dip? Not enough dipping going on?”

“Forget it. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“You’re probably just nervous. Aemond’s a doctor, he’d be able to tell if you had something wonky down there, like those chicks who are born without a vagina. Or with two vaginas. Jesus Christ, can you imagine the possibilities? Why can’t I meet someone like that?”

You stare into the fire, discouraged. “I’m going to ruin everything.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that. Aemond will assume it’s his fault. He thinks everything is his fault.”

Through the darkness, you spot headlights bobbing as the Tahoe approaches on bumpy dirt roads. “Oh, thank God. They’re back.”

“About time. If Rio didn’t find me a new golf club, I’m going to drown him in the lake.”

“He could break you in half.”

“But he wouldn’t.”

“No.”

“Because he likes me too much.”

“Right.”

“Maybe you like me too,” Aegon says as he exhales smoke, his glazed eyes listing to you, his grin crooked and drowsy. “Just a little bit.”

You smile reluctantly. “I might.”

“Cool.” He beams up at the stars, and then says again: “Cool.”

As the massive SUV rolls to a halt, the headlights cascading over you and so bright they’re nearly blinding, you notice the red letters on the grill: GMC. “That’s not the Tahoe,” you say, panicked.

“What? Then who is it?”

“I don’t know.” You stand up, instinctively reaching for one of your M9s; but they’re both empty. All the guns are. Your hand drops to your side.

Aegon, unable to rise on his own, remains in his chair and grips the armrests tightly. He whispers: “Should we go inside…?!”

“They’ve already seen us. But they don’t know who’s in the RV.” Rhaena, Baela, Helaena. With a shiver like a bolt of cold lightning, you recall what Aemond said at the bowling alley back in Shenandoah, Ohio: I don’t want them to know we have women with us.

The GMC Yukon is still running when two men step out, the headlights disorientingly bright. They are both armed, you see immediately, pistols that you’d guess are Colts. Aegon’s hand juts out and closes around your forearm as the strangers approach. They are both young, maybe twenty, and wearing jeans, camo jackets, and baseball hats like they’re going hunting. They stand in the yellow-white glow of the headlights as they watch you.

“Hi,” you say congenially, forcing a smile.

The men glance at each other, then one greets you with a nod. “Howdy.”

“We’re set up here,” you say. “But it’s a big campground. You’re welcome to any of the other spots.”

The man who spoke earlier chuckles and scratches at his short beard. You steal a glimpse back at Aegon: his eyes are huge and horrified.

“It’s real quiet on the lake,” you continue. “We haven’t had any problems, and we’ve been here a few days. It’s a good place. We’re happy to share it. We don’t…” You deliberate what words to use. “We aren’t interested in making trouble. We just want to be left alone.”

The man replies: “I camped here every single summer growing up, learned to fish here, swam in the water with my cousins, brought my girlfriends here to fuck. And now you’re inviting me to stay? You’re not from here. I can tell by your accent. This is my backyard. You’re the one who should be asking for permission.”

Aegon is making a low, whimpering sound; his fingernails are digging into the defenseless, downy underside of your forearm. “We don’t have anything of value,” you say, your voice trembling.

“Uh huh.” The stranger’s gaze flicks to the Winnebago.

“We found it. There’s no gas, no keys. Two of the tires are flat. It’s just shelter.”

“Who else is in the RV?”

“No one.”

The second man is squinting at Aegon. “Is he a cripple?”

“He was burned. That’s why we’re resting here for a while, so he can heal.”

The first man points to the bandage on your wrist. “Did you try to kill yourself? My neighbor did that when her kid got eaten. Slit her veins open out in the middle of the street. Bad scene.”

“I got mauled by a fish,” you reply numbly.

He laughs, a slow, rolling, mocking sort of sound, not taking his eyes off you. Then they drop to the Beretta M9s you have holstered at your waist. “Are those loaded?”

“Yes.”

He signals to the nearest Kentucky coffeetree. “Prove it. Shoot that tree.” You stare at its trunk, stark in the headlights of the strangers’ SUV. Long seconds tick by, the only sound the idling of the engine and the crackling of the firepit. “You can’t,” the man says, grinning. “Because you’re out of bullets. But I’m not.”

He raises his pistol and fires, a thunderclap, a mechanical roar. A small circular wound appears in the tree. Aegon shrieks and tries to stand; he tumbles to the earth when the raw, weeping flesh beneath his bandages betrays him. The RV door flies open and Daeron is the first one out, clutching his compound bow but still blinking his way out of the dreams he was jolted from. He won’t be able to nock one of his makeshift arrows before they shoot him.

“What the hell’s going on—?!”

“Drop it!” the stranger shouts, and both he and his companion aim their pistols at Daeron. He freezes. Baela, Rhaena, and Helaena exit the RV and begin screaming, clinging to each other.

“Do what they ask,” you tell Daeron, trying to remain calm. With great hesitancy, he sets his bow on the earth and puts his empty palms in the air. There are hunting knives inside the RV, you think. Where did we store them? In a drawer, in a cabinet?

The men are now herding you all into the RV, jabbing the barrels of their pistols against your backs and bellies. “Let’s go, everybody in,” the first one says. The second man hooks an arm forcefully under one of Aegon’s and drags him through the threshold, Aegon yowling as his burned leg smacks against the doorframe. The second man forces Aegon and Daeron to kneel on the floor at the front of the RV near the driver’s seat; the other one arranges the women at gunpoint, instructing you to squeeze together to sit in a row on the floral couch. Helaena—farthest from you and closest to the kitchenette booth—is sobbing and covering her ears. Rhaena appears to be hyperventilating. Baela’s head is held high, her face furious and defiant.

Aemond, Rio, Cregan, please come back…

“Now this is interesting,” the first man is saying to his friend. He uses his pistol to indicate to each of you. “We’ve got G.I. Jane, this delicate little sweetheart, a pregnant lady, and Cinderella. Where should we begin…?”

You glance at Rhaena, catch her wide frenzied eyes, then look meaningfully at the drawers across the aisle near the kitchenette stove and sink. Knife? you mouth.

It takes her a moment to realize what you mean, then she inclines her head, an elusive nod. She remembers where they are, where they were stored once she cleaned them this afternoon in the lake water. That’s good; but in order for Rhaena to grab a large serrated hunting knife, the men will need to be distracted.

“There’s a bed in the back,” the second man is saying. “I can see it from here, down the hallway…”

Your gaze is darting around the Winnebago. Aegon is yelling something; the second man pistol-whips him, fortunately not hard enough to fracture his skull.

“Don’t worry,” the first man tells Aegon, background noise you try to ignore as you search for an opportunity. “You’ll get to watch…”

Helaena is trying to get your attention, staring at you with her wide, gleaming blue eyes. You furrow your brow at her, not understanding…and then you see the burlap strap she’s looped around her wrist. Her messenger bag must be in the kitchenette booth beside her. And as you watch, and only for a second, she arranges her fingers in the shape of a gun.

The Ruger, you realize, amazed, that tiny revolver she was always so repelled by. Helaena never used it, but she still has it. And it’s loaded.

Baela is arguing with the men, words you tune out. Helaena points to you, but you shake your head. There’s no way for her to get the Ruger to you without them seeing. You mouth to Helaena, your face severe: You have to do it. Then you look to the first man, presently waving his pistol in Baela’s face.

“I’d like to go first,” you say casually, and all the noise stops.

“No, no, no, I’ll do it,” Aegon tells the men. “You want a blowjob? You want to fuck me in the ass? I’m down. I’m not scared of no dick. I experimented in college.”

Both strangers burst into hysterical laughter. “That’s a mighty generous offer,” the second one says, swiping a tear from his eye. “But that’s not the team we’re on, is it, Wesley?”

The first man, Wesley, is smiling down at you. His gaze sweeps over your body, from your bare feet to your eyes, calm and level. “Why do you want to go first, darling?”

Shoot him, Helaena. Shoot him right now. “I’ve never done it before. I figure I should give it a try before it’s too late.”

Helaena whips the Ruger out of her burlap messenger bag and opens fire. She winces each time it goes off, and her aim is terrible; bullets pierce the ceiling and the walls, striking nowhere near Wesley or his accomplice, but their panicked ducking buys valuable seconds. Daeron and Aegon tackle the man closest to them and wrestle the pistol from his hands. Aegon presses the barrel to his skull, pulls the trigger, kills him instantly. Rhaena flies to one of the drawers and yanks out a hunting knife ten inches long. She buries it in Wesley’s throat, the blade disappearing until the hilt rests on his collarbone. When she rips it free, scarlet blood jets from his severed carotid artery, spraying you, soaking you. Blood is in your eyes and nostrils, hot coppery carnage; when you scream, you can taste it in your mouth.

People are reaching for you and telling you to calm down, that they’ll help you, but you can’t wait. You use your t-shirt to mop as much of the blood as you can from your face and bolt through the door of the RV, running towards the lake. You drop to your knees on the sand and splash yourself, cool moonlit rivulets that wash the blood away. You’re trembling, you’re crying, and when somebody grabs you by the arm you scream and strike out at them, clawing like an animal.

“It’s me,” Aemond says, and only then do you get a good look at him, blood and lake water beading on your eyelashes. He’s wiping blood off your face with his palms, he’s inspecting you for fresh wounds. “Don’t fight, it’s me, it’s me, whose blood is this, what happened—?!”

“You were right,” Baela says to Aemond from where she stands on the sand, a hand resting on her belly. Drifting from the RV are the voices of the others who have just returned: Rio, Cregan, Luke. “We’re not safe here.”

~~~~~~~~~~

The next night, rain falls as you lie entangled with Aemond in the attic bedroom of a ranch house in Red Desert, Wyoming, flashing lightning and flickering candles illuminating bare skin. You are kissing feverishly, your hands all over each other, and Aemond is pushing himself into you; or, rather, he is trying to. There is pain, and you can feel your body turning treasonous, rejecting him, shrinking away from him, fearing that you’ll never be able to satisfy him.

No, no no no…

His voice is hushed and gentle as his lips brush your ear. “Hey, you’re shaking, why are you shaking?”

“I’m okay, I’m fine, keep going.” And then, when he stops: “No, Aemond, don’t—”

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

“You have to. I’ll be okay, I promise.”

Instead, he lies down beside you and turns your face to his, fingerprints on the slope of your jaw. He asks again, more firmly: “Why are you shaking?”

All the walls and arches of you collapse, stones tumbling to crack against the earth. You are suddenly fighting tears. Your words come out in a whisper. “I want this to be real.”

He studies your face, distressed. “What are you talking about?”

“I don’t want to ruin it. I don’t want to lose you. I never thought I’d have something like this and now I’m so afraid of fucking it up.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“That’s what Jace thought.”

Aemond pulls you against his chest and holds you as you sink through him into dark, cold, watery dreams, and doesn’t make any more promises he can’t keep.

~~~~~~~~~~

“What time is it on the East Coast right now?” you ask Rio. It’s May and almost a hundred degrees every day in Djibouti City—arid, rainless, sun glare and dust that sting your eyes—so the Navy has you building at night when they won’t have to deal with quite so many Seabees dropping over from heatstroke. Outside the day is turning to a soft lavender dusk and your shift will begin soon. You are dressed—sand-colored t-shirt, camo pants, work boots—and toweling off your hair, still wet from the shower.

Rio is sprawled across the floor of your room, taking up almost all of it; housing at Camp Lemonnier consists of converted shipping containers, each outfitted with its own perpetually whirring air conditioning unit. He is reading Fifty Shades Of Grey. “Like seven hours behind here, so early afternoon, I guess.” Then he looks up at you, suspicious. “Why?”

“I should probably call.”

“Should you really?”

“I want to. I’ll feel guilty if I don’t.”

Rio shakes his head and returns his attention to his reading material. “I’m not going to tell you what to do.”

“You love telling me what to do.”

“I wish you loved listening.” He flips a page, puzzled. “Why the fuck does Sophie like this book so much…?”

You open Facebook Messenger on your phone and make a call. The wifi isn’t good for videos, but old-fashioned audio calls usually work okay. There is an answer on the fourth ring.

“Yeah?” she says, and you can hear the entire house when she turns on speakerphone: the squeaking of the recliner, the droning of a talk show, indistinct speech and chuckling from other people, glass—cups, bottles, baking dishes, ashtrays—clinking sharply.

“Hi, Mama! Happy Mother’s Day!”

“Aw, ain’t you sweet to call.” And you are testing her voice like water from a tap, icy cold, hot enough to scald. At the moment, Mama sounds perfectly lukewarm. “I didn’t count on hearing from you. I know how busy you are.”

That’s a landmine that you step gingerly around. “We definitely have a lot going on here, and there’s the time difference and everything…but I wanted to make sure to say hi, even if I can’t talk for long. What are you up to today?”

“Oh, nothing much.” You hear her smoking: breathe in, breathe out, a cunning sort of pause as she decides how to proceed. Of course there were no extravagant festivities planned. Nothing ever felt like a real holiday at home: Mama getting sloshed and burning the turkey on Thanksgiving, Christmas presents that had to be returned for grocery and gas money, fistfights and doors ripped off hinges on New Year’s Eve. You had decided years ago that Hallmark channel magic was pure fiction…but sometimes you get glimpses of it now. Thanksgiving dinner in some unceremonious chow hall with Rio and your other friends feels more like a holiday than anything else you’ve ever known. “You still in Africa?”

“It’s Djibouti, Mama, I told you. It’s on the Horn. Across the sea is Yemen and Saudi Arabia.”

“Why can’t they put y’all to work in your own goddamn country?”

“Well, we do that too sometimes.” You stall, listening to her smoking. Rio glances up at you from where he’s still reading on the floor. “They have some incredible beaches here. Yesterday morning we went down to the water and there were all these cute kids playing, and they only spoke French but Rio showed them how to play tic-tac-toe by drawing a board in the sand—”

“I like the beach,” she says, and you know you’ve made a mistake. “You remember that?”

Deflated now: “Yeah, Mama. I remember. Are the boys going to take you to Virginia Beach this summer?”

She scoffs. “We’ll see, but I doubt it. It’s expensive, girl.”

You sigh deeply. Rio was right. I shouldn’t have called. “We talked about this. I need to be saving up to get my own house one day, and my own car, and all those things I’ll need to have a life when I get out of the Navy—”

“And what about my house?!” Mama cries, damn near wails. “I’m gonna lose it! I can’t make the payments!”

You reply calmly: “Mama, that’s your house. That’s your business. And you’ve got more than one kid still living at home long after they’ve turned eighteen, so they need to be the people you’re asking to help, not me.”

“You’re gonna let your Mama be homeless? Is that what you called to tell me on Mother’s Day? What the hell kind of daughter are you?”

“I got out!” you shout into the phone, and Rio is scrambling off the floor to rush to you. “I’m learning things and I’m making money and I’m building schools and hospitals on the other side of the fucking planet, and you can’t be proud of me because you think it means you’ve failed, but the truth is that you could have gotten out too! All of you could have! But you didn’t, it was me, it was just me, and now you hate me for it!”

“You need to come home now,” Mama says. “You gotta take care of me, take care of your Mama. You only got one and she needs you, so you gotta heed me. That’s what’s right.”

“I am not going to spend the rest of my life watching you get wasted in that filthy house, and I’d work where, at the Dollar General? At Arby’s? And get knocked up by the first guy who shows any interest?”

“You’re giving me heart palpitations. I’m gonna have to go to the emergency room and it’s all your fault.”

Rio is whispering into your other ear, one of his massive palms resting on the back of your neck: “Just hang up. It’s not worth it. You can hang up, just hang up…”

“I want things to be normal,” you tell Mama, you plead, tears stinging in your eyes. “I’ve tried so hard to get along with everyone, and help you as much as I can, but no matter what I do it’s not enough, and you’re always mad at me, and you’re always fighting with me—”

“You’re damn right I’m fighting with you, because you’re a spiteful, selfish child.”

“Hang up,” Rio is murmuring. “Hang up, hang up, hang up…”

“Mama,” you say, your voice strangled. “I’m sorry. I have to go now.”

“When I’m homeless, you know you got no one but yourself to blame—”

You hit the red button to end the call, throw your phone down onto the bed, stare at the wall and swallow noisily, choking back sobs. You won’t let yourself cry. You’ve cried enough for them already. You have to keep moving forward. The only way out is through. “You were right,” you say to Rio at last, quiet and raspy. Your hands are trembling. “I shouldn’t have called.”

“Hey.” He grabs your face roughly, forces you to look at him with your miserable shimmering eyes, grins hugely. “I’m your mom now, bitch.”

You laugh as tears spill down your cheeks, let him bury you in one of his smothering bear hugs, cling to him like a life raft in a storm.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond x you #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen x you #aemond fanfiction

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jetblack4realz · 6 months ago

Text

lake days iii - jake "hangman" seresin x reader

summary - jake becomes a regular to your family's adventures and a regular in your life

warnings - def no

word count - 4.5k

pt i , pt ii , pt iv

______________________________________________________________

when jake was the first one pushed into what was deemed the 'murder tube', he was less than pleased. it was a rather large blow up toy, looking like saturn with a big ball in the middle and a ring surrounding it. there were handles every so often, meant for five people to ride, but he was certain that they wouldn't be enough to keep him from flying off.

you jumped next to him, gripping a handle next to him to keep from slipping down as you shot him a quick grin. "you ready?"

"as i'll ever be," he grunted, looking up quickly as he heard his name called.

"catch me," finn instructed the man. jake scooted forward, holding his arms out as logan gently tossed finn into the tube. jake grabbed him around the middle easily, shooting the boy a grin as he helped him maneuver to his own spot on the tube.

"leila, you gonna come sit with me?" you asked, holding your arms out. she smiled, jumping to join you just as logan leaned to give her a boost. your eyes widened as you moved to catch her quickly, sitting her next to you. "you gotta hold on tight, okay?"

brynlee stepped on in between her kids, the final circle complete as darren pushed you guys off. finn was practically shaking with excitement next to jake as the man wiggled his eyebrows at him.

"i don't think you're ready for this guys," brynlee mused with a laugh as you looked over at jake.

"i beth i'll sthay on longer than you," leila taunted in her usual lisp, grinning at jake.

"game on, sister," he said back, returning her excited and slightly competitive smile. seeing him with the kids made your heart warm and you were sure brynlee could tell based on how she was grinning at you.

logan called back to make sure you were all hanging on tight, receiving five confirmations and an eager yell to start from the five year old.

jake turned his attention to you, smirking a bit as he leaned towards you. his voice lowered as the boat started off slowly: "i bet i'll stay on longer than you."

you leaned closer to him, smirking as well. "game on, hangman."

his brows furrowed, surprising you as he pulled his head away. "i like it better when you call me jake."

"what?" you asked, but suddenly you'd gotten up to speed and your attention was on the handles to your sides. leila shrieked in excitement next to you as the tube started to rotate on the ball part, spinning the five of you.

"oh shit!" jake yelled leaning towards you to keep from falling on finn.

"language!" you laughed, your face falling suddenly as you got dragged the opposite way.

logan was not afraid to pull you guys quickly around the water, even though his own children were on it.

you realized later that maybe it was because they were his kids when brynlee and leila switched out for everleigh and kyrie and he slowed down his rather aggressive efforts. jake enjoyed it more that way, taking the time to mess around with finn and trying to stand up. he pulled at your hand that was closest to him, resulting in you smacking him instead.

he laughed, dramatically holding his bicep before turning on his stomach with his feet against the middle and offering his hands to you and finn. logan was still going slower and not making aggressive turns, but you both saw him acknowledge jake's newfound confidence and reach for the throttle.

he held a hand out to you. "you gotta keep me on!"

he was eying you with a little smirk, nodding at his hand as he shook it in front of you again.

"you wouldn't want me to fall off now would you?" he asked.

"you'd be surprised," you answered with a laugh.

"grab his hand!" finn shrieked as the tube started moving faster, spinning as it grazed the water. jake grabbed your hand instead, pulling you swiftly off of the little grip you had on the tube and down onto the ball next to him.

"jake!" you yelled, reaching for a handle that was slightly too far over as he laughed, managing to grab onto one finn was supposed to have a grip on but was holding onto the other with both hands instead.

you held his hand tightly in yours, pulling yourself closer to him when you started to slip down. when logan pulled the boat straight again, you let go, jumping forward to grab your handles again just as it flipped on its side.

you dangled off the edge, feet skimming the water with a yell. jake and finn laughed loudly before they got flipped over too and you all three were just hanging on for dear life as everleigh giggled from the other side of the tube.

you hit a large wave and saw finn go flying, logan immediately pulling the boat to a stop as you pulled yourself back up. you rounded back to where finn had landed, gideon pulling the boy out of the water as he giggled.

"that was fun, dad!" he yelled as he sat next to his mom on the seat.

"yo, you two are out!" darren yelled as gideon climbed onto where finn had been.

you laughed as you climbed out, taking your teenage brother's hand to step onto the surf deck. you turned to help jake back on as darren replaced you, but he was standing on the edge of the tube, back to the water. he winked at you, mock-saluting before back-flipping off the edge.

you cheered, clapping as he emerged from the water, his hair in his face. he wiped it back as he swam towards the surf deck, accepting your hand as you pulled him up to stand in front of you.

"you're so cool," you told him with an amused grin.

"i know," he said, winking before crossing by you and dragging you to the front of the boat. instead of sitting in the designated seat across from brynlee, he sat where you had before with his back to the bow, patting the spot next to him. you obliged, letting your legs lay across the seat as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. you leaned your head on his, making direct eye contact with brynlee and kyrie who'd traded her spot to leila. their grins are spread the widest you'd seen all weekend.

you just rolled your eyes.

you and jake didn't get back on the tube for the rest of the drive and when you returned for lunch you spent it laid on the surf deck, a sub sandwich in your hands and sunglasses on your noses.

well, each other's sunglasses. he had insisted the moment you pulled yours out that he take yours, smiling cheesily as he explained how you liked his better anyways.

after lunch you messed around on the kneeboards again, spending most of your time bullying gideon with splashes and crossing in front of him to mess up his board. darren went with jake and bullied him, you yelling all your techniques to jake with an amused grin as you leaned off the back of the boat.

that weekend was finished with more boat rides, tubing craziness with your nieces and nephews, and a final family barbecue. throughout the last two days your sister-in-laws wouldn't get off your back, always making sure to note how comfortable you seemed around him and he with you. between the small smiles, inside jokes, and hugs the two of you shared they were certain he was smitten with you.

"he's just... jake. he's jake, this is how it is," you told them, eyes lifting to where he was throwing a football around with barrett, who had a lot of pent up energy from staying on the beach with his pregnant wife and was excited to have you all back to mess around. jake tried to run from finn and keep the ball from the boy, but pretended to let him overtake him and steal it from his hands. it brought a smile to your lips, something they wasted no time in pointing out.

"you're in love with him," kyrie insisted. "and i can't blame you there, sweetheart. he's the picture of a gentleman, is so sweet with the family, obviously cares about you so much, and gosh is he a looker."

"no," you laughed with a shake of your head. "i mean, yes. but, we're friends. good friends. i could never change that."

"hey darlin'," jake said with a grin, standing behind you with his hands on your shoulders, rubbing mindless circles with his thumbs. "are you ladies talking about me?"

"definitely not," you laughed, while alice just smiled and nodded a, "maybe?"

he looked down at you with raised brows, his grin widening slowly. "all good things i hope?"

"they're convinced that we're a thing," you told him simply. it was not the answer he expected, that was for sure, but it didn't keep him from smirking and looking to the other women.

"whatever do you mean?" he asked, playing coy as he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head before running off to where logan had joined josh and finn in football.

you sighed as he ran off, watching as he barreled into your big brother's side, grappling for the football before finn slipped between the two, pushing it out of their hands and into his own. you couldn't help the smile that returned to your lips. you didn't even look at the girls surrounding you, instead holding up a finger as you continued to watch jake play around. "don't even. i know."

when you returned to your house, you desperately wanted to clear the air. all the little touches, teases, kind words, and the wonderful way he treated you and your family was getting to your head. this was hangman, he couldn't be seriously into you. you, of all people, his wingman, a navy girl, and someone you never would assume he would go for normally.

"you're really good with finn and the kids," you told him with a smile as you tossed your keys on the kitchen counter. "i didn't know hangman seresin had a soft side like that."

he laughed lightly, resting his arms on the countertop as he stood across from you. "yeah, i guess i do."

"what were you saying earlier..?" you asked, avoiding his eyes for a moment. "about me not calling you that?"

"calling me what?"

"hangman," you answered quickly. "i mean, i always call you hangman."

"nothing," he hummed. "just weird hearing my callsign when we're not on base."

"i'll stick with jake. if you want," you offered.

"whatever you want to call me i'm fine with darlin'," he told you, smiling gently. "but i'd be lying if i said i wasn't partial to jake. or babe. or honey, darling, sweetheart, husband." he continued on, earning a laugh from you as he grinned at you.

"husband is crazy," you told him, the smile never leaving your lips. "at least take me to dinner first."

"that can be arranged." he leaned closer to you, his smile infectious as ever. you breathed an awkward laugh.

"you serious?"

"why wouldn't i be?"

"because you're hangman."

"jake," he corrected. "and i would love to take you out to dinner. on a date. as soon as possible."

"are you serious?" you laughed again, his eyebrows shooting up as he joined in your laughter.

"yes! dead serious, i want to date you y/n," he told you.

"oh, more than one date," you teased.

"if you'll have me," he answered and you realized that he was, indeed, serious. "this weekend of seeing you with your family just solidified what i already knew about you. you're funny, and sweet, and adventurous, and if i'm being completely honest, seeing you play with the kids is the hottest thing i've ever seen you do. next to you surfing yesterday - you really know how to work a surfboard, sweetheart."

"yeah, i do," you agreed with a laugh.

"so," he started. "you think you'd go on a date with me?"

"when would we even have time?" you asked, reminding him of the mission you both were set to begin that thursday and would take at least three weeks.

"well," he hummed, moving around the counter to stand in front of you, glancing back at the time on the stove. "right now works for me."

"jake, it's seven o'clock and we have to leave early for work tomorrow morning," you said, letting him take your hands.

"didn't say we had to go out. we've had a very busy day, i'm happy to order us a pizza and we could watch a movie," he suggested.

"jake seresin doesn't want to go out?" you mused with a short giggle.

"jake seresin just wants to be with you," he answered quietly, smiling softly at you.

"i've liked seeing this side of you, jake," you told him, squeezing his hands. "it's always been easy hanging out with you, but the way you've been treating me - i like it. i like you."

"is that a yes to pizza?" he asked, grinning.

"yes," you laughed. "you order it, i'll get the movie up, and then we'll get started."

"sounds like a plan," he said with a nod. as you stepped away, he pulled you back, hand dropping yours and coming to your cheek as he tugged you close and pressed his lips to yours. it was short and quick and he was grinning widely. "been wanting to do that for a while."

"well i've been wanting to do this," you told him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him close, indulging him in a much longer, much sweeter kiss than he'd initiated before. he smiled into it, arms around your waist holding you against him.

when you pulled away he pulled you right back in, earning a smile from you. you slid your hands down his shoulders and onto his chest, pushing him away slowly. he chased after you, kissing you one, two, three times before you finally stepped away with a giggle.

"i didn't expect this weekend to end this way, but i'm so glad it is," you told him, pressing another short kiss to his lips. "now, go order a pizza and i'm gonna pull up a cheesy romcom that is gonna show me if you really like me or not because you'll watch it with me."

"i'll watch it," he told you. "hell yeah, i'll watch it."

"good, it has ryan reynolds in it and it's my all-time favorite," you laughed.

"well, now that i know it has ryan reynolds in it i'm definitely watching it," he told you, kissing your lips again with a smile. "want hawaiian?"

"how'd you know that?" you asked.

"it's the only kind you ate when they bought us pizza after deployment," he answered with a shrug.

"you're my favorite," you laughed.

jake saw your family frequently in between missions over the next few months. they occasionally took the boat out for a saturday and a time or two you stole it away from logan's house using jake's truck to just go out yourselves. the lake was your favorite place to be, jake quickly learned. and you quickly learned that the wilderness was jake's.

it was a few weeks after a month-long, carrier-dwelling mission that you couldn't tell finn about even though he asked a million times, that jake was on another adventure with your family.

darren had suggested that you bring him along on a four-wheeling escapade with logan, josh, your dad, and one of darren's friends who'd grown up with you all. gideon had returned to houston, so it was back to just the four of you siblings. jake was a little offended you hadn't suggested this before, but you simply hadn't thought of it. whenever you had a full day off with guaranteed no calls in you really only thought of your boat.

jake drove to pick you up, then back down the road to your parents' place to collect the atv's. he'd begun driving you everywhere as you searched and searched for a suitable truck online. you didn't want to blow $13,000 on a brand new ford, and frankly you didn't like the look, but you wanted a cool truck that could pull the boat.

jake had managed to find an old 1986 f-150 for sale by a guy the next town over for only $2,000. it was old and beat to crap, with a few engine problems, but he insisted that he could fix it. when you told him it was a little small to tow the big ole boat trailer, he only looked at you with a grin and said, "well, that's fine. my truck can pull it." you'd never felt more attracted to a man before. and frankly, the promise that he'd be around long enough for you to rely on that made you a little giddy inside.

"my favorite brother-in-law!" darren exclaimed as you and jake hopped out, a laugh on your lips already.

"y/n, when did you get married?" his friend, frankie, asked you with furrowed brows.

"i'm not married. this is jake, my boyfriend."

"he's a pilot like y/n," darren said with a wicked grin. "only a lot cooler."

"that is so rude!" you exclaimed, whacking him in the shoulder.

"nice to meet you," frankie said with a laugh, shaking jake's hand.

"where's dad?" you asked.

"just gassing up the quads," darren told you. "got the side by side too if you and jake wanna take that."

"why? where's my quad?" you asked quickly, eying the boy accusatorially.

"in the garage. don't know if it still works though, you haven't been around to drive it," he hummed, looking to the side dramatically.

"oh that's bull, i know you've been driving it," you told him.

"it's cooler than mine!" he sighed.

"then buy a cooler one, you can't drive mine," you said.

"i tried to get dad to buy a 600 like yours but he said it was too much," he answered.

"that's because you weren't the one buying it," you said with a roll of your eyes. "i had to buy a quad for myself when i was your age if i wanted to ride with the boys."

"i can't afford it!" he cried.

"because you spend it all on food," frankie said, causing you to laugh.

"seems fitting," you hummed. "you take the side by side with frankie and then josh can take yours."

"why does he get mine?" he asked.

"because his is broken and you have a guest, so suck it up."

you all approached the toy garage where your dad, logan, barrett, and josh were waiting.

"hello jake," logan said, smiling as he clapped hands with the man at your side.

"what's up, dude?" jake said, nodding at josh and barrett as they all got on their respective quads.

you skipped up to your black and blue beauty of a four-wheeler. "hello sweet thing!"

"you are my favorite person ever," jake mumbled in your ear as he grinned at your excitement. he'd never been with a girl like you, so adventurous and well, texas.

you laughed as you climbed on, patting behind you for jake to follow. he joined you, arms resting on his thighs next to you.

"you been four-wheeling before, right jake?" barrett called from next to you.

"of course i have, i am from texas after all," he answered with a grin.

"good, you'll have fun with the trails we've got over here," josh said. "maybe not with y/n's driving, though."

"what?" jake laughed, looking at you. you shrugged.

"i'm a little more... conservative with my driving," you told him.

"but you're crazy driving the boat?" he said.

"yeah, well, falling in the water hurts a lot less than falling into the mud," you said.

jake laughed loudly. "just don't be dumb and you won't fall off."

"you calling me dumb, seresin?" you asked, turning to look back at him.

"not yet, we'll see after this," he answered, smirking.

"come on lovebirds!" darren yelled, soaring past you as you quickly started up the quad. logan, barrett, josh, and your dad all followed after him, you taking the back.

you all started down the back trails of the forest, the beautiful pines zipping by as jake wrapped his arms around you, leaning his chin on your shoulder.

"you really are slow, aren't you? taking the back so you don't slow down the group," he hummed, chuckling in your ear.

"it's more scenic," you said, having to yell a bit over the wind. he pulled away from your ear, laughing.

"sure it is."

the views really were beautiful though, as you all followed darren and frankie up to the top of a hill you all called olympus, since it was the highest point on your property. well, that you could reach on the quads at least.

jake's arms stayed wrapped around you even though you definitely weren't going fast enough for him to have to. he was warm against your back and you were not complaining, just enjoying the feel of the wind on your cheeks and your boy behind you.

there were a few times that your brothers stopped for a minute, sending dramatic looks your way as you pulled to a stop. "what?"

"hurry up!" logan called, zipping away quickly as jake laughed, squeezing your waist.

"catch him!" he encouraged, but you still waited for everyone else to follow him the rest of the way up the mountain.

once you reached the top, you all got off your rides and stood out over the edge.

"pretty, ain't it?" you asked, coming up next to jake with your arm around his torso. he wrapped his around your shoulder, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

"not as pretty as you," he whispered.

"you did not just say that!" yelled logan as darren and frankie laughed next to him. josh and barrett just exchanged grins, your dad rolling his eyes at the boys' antics.

"leave them alone," he told them. "don't want to scare him off."

"i don't scare easy, sir," jake said, turning to face them with a grin. "if the boat trip wasn't enough to prove it, i've got a few tricks up my sleeves when it comes to quadding."

"you want to drive?" you asked with brows raised.

"of course i want to drive," he answered.

"let's do it then," logan said, climbing onto his quad with your dad behind him. "let's see what jake's got."

"come on," jake whispered, quickly mounting the quad with you behind him and starting it up. "hang on."

and he was off. you squealed as you wrapped your arms around him tightly, looking around as he expertly descended the mountain. there were beautiful fields around you, stray cows munching on the grasses, but jake wasn't interested in that area. nope, he wanted to get into the real trails. he turned right, zipping into the forest, rocks trampled under the big wheels and jake grinning as he dodged puddles.

he wasn't sticking to the trails, moving around the edges and dodging between trees and rocks. he was focusing more on the off-roading portion and not enough on the speed part when josh suddenly rode past him. as per most situations, jake took this as a challenge.

he turned back onto the trail, following josh as he directed them back out onto your main riding trails out by the meadows. the road widened and jake took the opportunity to pass josh, mock-saluting him as you cheered.

"you can always drive!" you yelled over the wind as you leaned into him.

"oh, we doing this again?" he teased.

"as much as you're willing for as long as you're willing," you answered.

it had only been a few weeks, but you and jake spent even more time together than you normally did, with a lot more intimacy than normal, and you were loving every minute of it. he squeezed one of your hands around his torso and you could hear the smile in his voice when he answered, "i'll always be willing, darlin'."

you rode around for a few hours before you had to be the one to drag them back to the house. "i've got to go buy me a car."

"you're actually getting yourself a car?" darren asked. "you ain't driving mom's old thing around anymore?"

"jake found it. old 1986 ford f-150 some dude is selling for $2000," you answered as jake parked the quad back in the garage.

"does it even run?" josh asked with a chuckle. "no way you're getting a vintage ford for that cheap."

"well, it's brakes are crap, transmission might be blown, and the upholstery is so trashed, but for what they're asking for and the condition the body is in i am willing to pay to have it fixed," you answered.

"a blown transmission? you know how much that will cost?" logan asked.

"like, my monthly salary," you sighed. "but i really love it. and it's blue and white, it's literally my dream."

"i'll do the work on it, so that'll save on mechanic prices," jake said.

"you know cars?" your dad asked.

"i like to think so, yeah," jake laughed. "worked to get a '92 silverado running when i was in high school and fixed up a '78 bronco for my pal in the navy a year or two ago. better with the old ones than the new."

"me too," you dad smiled, high-fiving him.

"so, we will see you later," you said, giving your dad a hug and waving to your brothers before walking backwards to jake's newer f-150. you waved to frankie. "good to see you frankie!"

jake grabbed the door for you before hopping in on his side and following your apple maps' directions to where the guy selling the truck lived.

"you wanna do the negotiating?" you asked him hesitantly as he held your hand over the center console. "i don't really know cars and i don't wanna get screwed over here."

"yeah, i got you baby," he said, shooting you a smile. "i'm pretty good at talking down a price. especially if we're gonna be investing a lot of time and money into it."

"you really don't have to," you told him. "it's gonna be a lot of work and a lot of time. i don't want you to have to spend your weekends off working on my truck."

"you willing to help?" he asked, grinning as he watched the road.

"well, of course."

"then i'll be spending my weekends with my girl, fixing a truck. it's every guy's dream, darlin'," he answered. you laughed.

"if you say so."

"and like i've said every time you drive anywhere, i can't be seen in a crappy old subaru. it's damaging to my ego."

this made you laugh harder, him squeezing your hand as you whacked him in the arm. "whatever."

"really, though. i'm happy to do it. happy wife, happy life," he hummed with a smile.

"take me out to dinner first, seresin," you said, grinning.

"still haven't been able to do that, have we?" he asked.

"nope. we prioritize take out and movies over a nice restaurant apparently," you hummed.

"and four-wheeling."

"and boating."

#glen powell #glen powell x reader #glen powell x y/n #hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #top gun imagine #top gun maverick #fanfic

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