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starlessea · 2 years

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Crossfire

A/N Whaaat, another alternate perspective POV that you guys like so much?? We’ve had Judith’s POV in Peek-A-Boo, Merle’s in Big Brother, and now we have Rick’s!

Summary: Rick Grimes recalls the day his brother almost lost you (since Daryl still couldn’t bring himself to).

Masterlist

Buy Me A Coffee

Something was off about that run — Rick could just feel it.

The air was wrong, as was the crunch of his boots on those autumn leaves. His breaths felt heavy, but his steps were oddly light.

Yet, the place was as silent as the grave. Too silent, Rick thought, and swallowed dryly.

He wondered whether Daryl could feel it too. Sure, he didn’t have the honed senses of a seasoned officer, but he had something — that’s for damn sure. The man’s ears would prick up at the slightest breeze in the distance, or if a twig dared to snap in his peripheral.

He was more like a wild beast than a hunter, Shane had told Rick once — so long ago now that it felt like a past lifetime.

Rick had to agree. Though, he perhaps would have put it another way. Maybe he’d say that Daryl Dixon was a born survivalist — someone with a keen sense and the skills to back it up. His gut instinct had gotten him this far, after all.

A lot further than Shane, he grimaced.

Rick fingered over his pistol, edging closer to the entrance of the supermarket and nodding his head forward to call the others. He heard two sets of footsteps follow diligently — muffled, but still audible from the crinkle of those orange leaves.

Yeah, Rick thought with confidence, Daryl had changed since then. He wasn’t as wild as he used to-

“The fuck ya think yer doin’?” the man snarled behind him.

“I’m not staying in the car, Daryl!” you seethed back, stomping those leaves with more vigour now.

Rick sighed and lowered his gun. Whatever covered they had was all but gone now.

He glanced around before crossing his arms over his chest. The two of you were arguing like children — oblivious to the fact he was even there. You were both too hot-headed for your own good; everyone knew it.

Yet somehow, that’s also what made you fit together.

Rick cleared his throat after a few seconds. “Can this bickering wait until later?” he asked sternly, catching your attention with his tone. “It’s not like Alexandria’s facing a food shortage or anything,” he laughed dryly, before throwing his hands up. “Oh wait!”

He quickly caught your guilty expression, and it seemed like all of the fight melted away from your features-

“Tell ‘er, Rick,” Daryl growled. “Tell ‘er to keep the car runnin’ in case things go south.”

And then the fight came straight back.

Rick wasn’t even able to formulate an answer — only stand in dumb silence as his mouth bobbed a little before being dismissed.

“Don’t say a word, Grimes,” you snapped, shooing him off with a wave of your hand. You held your ground, just like you always did, and turned to face Daryl once again.

Rick had always admired that about you. Thought you were stupid for it though — at first, anyway. He remembered the time you stood up to Daryl back when he was full of redneck backbite and enough spite to take down the south.

What was it you called him again, Rick wondered. A hard-ass hillbilly? Merle Dixon’s bitch?-

A frustrated groan snapped him out of his thoughts.

“I don’t want to be your get away driver forever!” you yelled, voice raising along with your temper. “I’m quite capable of looking after myself.”

Rick sighed. He’d heard enough.

He clapped a hand firmly onto Daryl’s shoulder before the man could spit out a response, and shot an equally hard look in your direction, too.

“Daryl,” Rick said — but it was more of a warning, really. “Get over here a second, would ya?” he nodded, gesturing to a secluded area a few metres off. “And you-” he went on, glancing back over his shoulder at the woman shooting daggers with her stare. “Stand guard for a minute and keep watch just like I taught you, got it?”

He watched as you let out a huff and kicked a stone with the toe of your boot, but nodded nonetheless.

And so Rick ushered Daryl away, leaving the getaway driver behind with her pistol tucked in her belt loop.

“Go on,” Daryl grumbled once they were out of sight, stuffing his hands into his pockets like a scorned child. “Chew my ear off.”

Rick let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, before letting his gaze soften under the man who now looked so small in front of him — crumpled in on himself like a wilted leaf lost in the breeze.

“She ain’t glass, brother,” he said softly, trying to coax Daryl’s eye. “Deserves more than being just something pretty to look at.”

The other man stuffed his hands into his pockets, and trained his eye to the ground as though he were trying to bore a hole through his shoe.

“I know tha’,” he murmured, after a few seconds of silence. “Her aim’s nearly s’good as mine, damnit.”

And Rick could only chuckle at that.

“Then what’s the problem here really?” he prodded, as careful with his words as he could be.

But even then, Daryl reacted as though they had stung him, and recoiled like an injured animal caught in a trap.

“I can’t lose ‘er, man,” he spoked, but it came out strained — almost like a whine. “She-” he stuttered, “she’s the only thing tha’ keeps me goin’.”

And Rick understood that more than anything.

He’d remembered how the two of you had been back at the quarry — too shy to admit anything to yourselves, but too naive to realise that everybody else already knew.

He could remember those gentle glances you exchanged, and the way Daryl insisted on accompanying you on every run. He could remember those nights he’d catch you sneaking off together (but of course he’d never say anything).

And most of all, Rick Grimes remembered the time Daryl told you he loved you — and he’d just happened to overhear it on his patrol.

He sighed, wringing the end of his shirt in his hand.

“I know it’s hard to let the ones we love go out here,” he began, voice taught as he tried to decipher his words. “But that’s the way things are now,” he sighed, glancing over at Daryl. “Hell, just look at Carl.”

The other man stayed silent, so Rick went on — trying to break through that hard exterior of his.

“Might not want them to get caught up in the crossfire, but sure as hell can’t keep ‘em in bubble wrap forever.”

The autumn breeze blew the crunchy leaves at their feet, making them rustle amidst the silence, and their warm breaths that floated in the air.

And Daryl leant back on his heels, chewing his lip between his teeth like he was debating spitting out his next words.

“I know tha’,“ he finally caved. “Jus’, y’know-” he paused, and Rick smiled warmly.

“I know,” he replied, giving the man’s shoulder a squeeze. “Come on,” he coaxed, light-heartedly, “we shouldn’t keep our getaway waiting-”

Rick flinched mid-sentence as the gunshot sounded in the distance, clear as day and sharp as the fall air.

Then him and Daryl ran back, just in time to watch you fall to the floor — and trickle blood over those auburn leaves.

Rick had seen Daryl carrying you once.

It’d been back at the Greene Farm, after you’d sprained your ankle on one of the searches for Sophia.

Everyone had teased you about it — saying how clumsy you were, and how you’d just wanted to get out of the journey home.

But only Rick had realised it, how it wasn’t actually you with a blush on your face.

It was Daryl.

He carried you like you were glass, tanned cheeks dark pink as he readjusted your legs in his arms, and seemed to debate just where to put his hands.

Rick thought back on that memory fondly every now and then — remembering where it all started. Where the two of you started.

Rick had seen Daryl carrying you once before, but he wished he didn’t have to see it again.

Not like this, at least.

“Rick!” the man screamed, running with your limp body cradled to his chest. “The doors!”

His shirt was soaked with blood, as were his hands, as was the seat of the car where he sped back to Alexandria quicker than he thought possible.

Rick wasted no time. He flung the infirmary doors open as Daryl stumbled inside, yelling loud enough that half of the community had already come outside to see the commotion.

“Outta my damn way,” he growled, as Tara appeared in front of him. “Quickly!”

And the woman barely had time to move before Daryl barreled past her, swiping everything off the cot with one hand so that he could lay you there with the other — far more carefully.

“Doc!” he yelled again, as Rick watched him pace at your bedside, his eyes searching for Denise frantically. “Someone get the fuckin’ doc-”

“I’m here, I’m here,” a voice interrupted, as Denise came flying into the room.

But the look on her face did nothing to settle Daryl’s nerves, Rick realised. If anything, her eyes only confirmed his worst fears.

“Oh my-” the doctor muttered under her breath, before Daryl’s wails sprung her back into action.

Never before had Rick seen the other man like this. Never even knew he could make those sounds. His hands were shaking something fierce, and he looked as though he might topple over at any given moment.

“Save ‘er, Doc!” he pleaded, his words slurring into one another in an accent so thick that even Rick struggled to decipher it. “Ya gotta save ‘er now,” he went on, glancing back at your body before physically recoiling at the sight. “She’s gettin’ cold and the blood-”

Rick finally stepped in.

“Daryl,” he warned, but the man looked straight through him — like he couldn’t even see past his own fear. “Daryl, you need to calm down,” Rick repeated. “We need to give Denise space so she can work.”

He clasped his hand to his brother’s shoulder, just like he’d done earlier. But this time he shrugged it off, and went straight for Rick’s throat.

“Get off ‘a me!” he snarled, smacking his hand away before shoving him even further. “Don’ fuckin’ touch me.”

If Daryl were any other man, Rick would’ve socked him for that.

But he wasn’t.

And in this moment Rick understood exactly why Shane had thought of him as some type of animal. Because right now, he looked exactly like one — caged, and corned, and scared.

So Rick realised that he couldn’t be gentle either, and grabbed Daryl Dixon by his collar — by the scruff of his neck. Because if Daryl was going to act like an animal, Rick needed to treat him like one.

The scuffle only lasted a matter of seconds as the two men crashed against the white walls of the infirmary, and the officer gained the advantage.

“She’s going to die if you keep breathing down Denise’s neck like this!” Rick yelled, finally losing his patience.

And Daryl’s eyes widened.

Rick could feel the other man go slack in his hold, could feel the fight drain out of him as he glanced back over to you — at Denise and Tara hooking you up to IV’s and working around the chaos he’d caused.

“Brother, listen to me,” he coaxed, trying to bring the other man back to his senses.

And he knew his next words would be hard to hear, but that’s why Rick needed to be the one to say them.

He sighed, letting Daryl go — letting him slump back against the wall as though his world had just come crashing down around him.

“The best thing you can do for her now is leave.”

Rick was the one to eventually call Daryl back in.

He didn’t know how long he’d been outside, sitting on that porch step with his head in his hands, knees tucked to his chest like a child — just waiting.

It had been so long that it was dark now. The gas lamps had been lit and the breeze had gotten stronger, gathering more leaves up with it (some of which had even settled upon the unmoving man). It was dark now, and the only light that illuminated the street was that of the infirmary.

And that of your smile, which lit up the room not long before Rick stepped outside.

“Brother,” he called out into the night, and watched as Daryl’s head whipped towards him in an instant.

His eyes were questioning, demanding even, as they settled on Rick — but at the same time seemed almost scared to hear an answer.

But Rick just nodded with a smile, and followed after the man as he bounded straight towards the infirmary.

Straight towards you.

Rick didn’t mean to eavesdrop; he promised he never did. He never intended to the first time, back at the quarry when he caught you sneaking off together for the first time. And he hadn’t meant to at the farm, either, when you’d spoken your first confessions.

But maybe — just maybe — this time, he wanted to hear.

Rick Grimes had his back flush to the wall, head against those same bricks he’d earlier pressed Daryl to — and listened near the doorway.

At first it was quiet. Maybe he could make out the occasional sniffle, but he could only guess that the two of you were caught in some kind of long embrace, warm and filled with relief. It made Rick feel almost guilty for intruding — made him second guess himself to the point he considered turning around and leaving-

“I’m so glad,” he heard your faint voice tremble, and he stayed completely still where he stood. “I thought the last thing I ever did was call you a stuck-up shit.”

And it took everything in Rick Grimes’ power not to let out a laugh.

“Ya never called me tha’," Daryl retorted.

But even then it was gentle.

“Not to your face," you bit back, with a strained laugh that had Daryl fawning over you in an instant.

Rick could almost picture the man plumping your pillows, and moving hair from your face in the way he did when he thought no one was watching.

“‘M sorry,” he muttered softly, after a few seconds, “should ne’er left ya alone.”

He drawled his words like they were heavy on his tongue, but spoke them so quietly that Rick could barely make them out — almost as though he were ashamed of having to say them.

“Thought I lost ya," Daryl choked.

And Rick heard that perfectly.

He heard the vulnerability in his voice, and the way it wavered. But he didn't have time to hurt with his brother, because you quickly gave him that comfort he deserved.

“You'll never lose me Dixon," you spoke warmly. So warm that Rick could feel it radiating through the wall. "We're sticking together from now on, okay?"

"Always," Daryl responded.

And so, Rick Grimes left the infirmary that night, careful to let the door close quietly behind him, and to mindful flick off the porch light.

He was aware of each step of his boot that crunched against autumn leaves, and of his breath that formed clouds before his nose and reminded him that he was alive.

And when he arrived home, Rick Grimes made sure to embrace his family that night, and tell each of them how much he loved them.

End.

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A/N Sorry this took so long! I’m in the midst of an exam and it’s slowly killing me off lol. I hope you enjoy it nonetheless! I’ve missed all of my beautiful followers, who I love interacting with even when I’m on a slight break.

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everyhowlmarksthedead · 4 years

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SOMETHING ROMANTIC

Happy Lowman x Marcus Alvarez daughter!Reader

Word count: 1.5k

Thanks to my lovely beta reader @chibsytelford 💘

Author comments: I hope you all enjoy, this is something I wrote for no reason. Gif isn't mine.

Warnings: Weirdo Happy perturbing Santo Padre.

Tag list: @starrynite7114 @chibsytelford @dazzledamazon @mara-mpou @sammskellington @gemini0410 @1-800-imagines @briana-mishell24 @sassymox @whyisgmora @aquamento @sadeyesgf 💥 (if you wanna be tagged, send me a message!)

The toothbrush goes from one side to another, turning when it reaches the corner of his mouth. He has the forearms over the picnic table, sitting next to Chibs, Tranq, Taza, Juice and Ray. They're talking about something that Happy can't hear focused on you, sitting on the floor and chewing gum with a spray gun in your right hand, painting the body of your bike, so concentrated in every line you're drawing that a war could be going on around you and you don't even know it. The ex-nomad could spend the rest of his life looking at you in silence, stunned at the way your fingers move so slowly and so precisely, feeling jealous just a second, wishing he could be in the position of your motorbike right now. And your fingertips touring his skin. Again.

“—ove”.

Happy turns his gaze to Chibs, while his brothers breaks in laughters. He wasn't paying attention, so he's waiting for his president to repeat the words.

“Shit, Happe', ya' looks lak'a teen in love”.

Frowning he puts his attention back to you. The scottish man is right, he hasn't even noticed that Marcus and Bishop have joined the table, staring at the Son'.

“I wanna marry your daughter, hermano”. Happy says with an appealing voice, without looking at your father, when he smells his unmistakable cologne.

The mexican raises both eyebrows sort of surprised and confused. Bishop is lost with his improvised decision.

“I think I'm in love with her”. He adds, feeling a lot of eyes on his person.

“What?” Taza asks about laugh bewildered.

“When you knew that, brotha’?” Marcus spoke this time, leaning above the table after turning at you for a while.

“This morning”.

They're expecting for something else, but he keeps letting his dark orbs travel all over your hands covered by paint stains, moving so easily that give him chills in his stomach.

“Watching her dancing naked”.

“You fell in love with her 'cause you saw her dancing naked?” Tranq tries to figure out how this could be possible.

“Did you see my daugh—? Did you fuck my daughter, man?”

“She was making me breakfast”.

Happy isn't listening, he don't give a shit if your father is about to tie him on the wall to rip his skin off, piece by piece. He's focused in the way your fingers get tangled in every bristle of your hair to create a messy bun with them. He's obsessed with your hands, as if he was spellbound. And he hasn't even seen you shoot a gun with them. That's gonna be his downfall.

“She was dancing ‘Adventure Time’ theme song, cooking pancakes and making me a cereal bowl”.

The other men are amazed by the way he has to talk about something so random with his typical and usual scratchy voice, as if he was talking about murder someone he doesn't even knows. But he's talking about you and his tone doesn't shake. That's why they know he's being serious.

“Anyone could do pancakes and a cereal bowl”. Juice laughs without knowing that his innocence is going to cost him to lose part of his physical integrity.

With a fast move and his gaze permanently on you, he grabs his nape hitting his head against the table with a noisy and loud sound. Juice starts to growl between curses and sobs, falling backwards towards the ground, when he wants to get up in his seat.

“Not even my mom knows that I like cereals before milk”.

Sons and Mayans are fascinated, putting their eyes on you. It's to hot outside, with the southern Cali' heat toasting your skin covered by colored tattoos. Getting up from the floor shaking the jumpsuit with knotted sleeves on your low waist, you take all your paint stuff between your arms walking towards the small plot with a roof on it, with some shading that will avoid the sun to makes you some burns in your shoulders. Leaving your things there, you walk back to your bike grabbing the handlebar to drive it there.

“She can run me over with her Harley whenever she wants, once and again till she kills me, drowning me with my own blood”.

“You're fuckin' perturbing me, man”. Bishop says with his face out of shape.

“He's that... kind of romantic”. Chibs palms your uncle's back laughing out loud.

“She hit you hard, eh, Happy?” Juice talks back, sitting again whilst rubs his forehead. Luckily he didn't break his nose.

“More than I could hit you till take away your last breathe”.

Holding the toothbrush between the forefinger and the thumb, he gets up of the bench, putting well his clothes on.

“The fac' ya' going, Happe'?” Chibs asks, whilst Marcus rubs his face hard with both hands.

“He's not gonna do'et, right?” Taza leaves the question in the air, looking at the men sitting around him, before getting his gaze back to the Son'.

He's walking with his self-confidence in the clouds, throwing away the toothbrush and his eyes on you, studying every gesture you made when you find him going towards you so serious that it's starting to scare you. Without a word, he takes off of his little finger a heavy gold seal skull-shaped, offering it to you with his arm stretched to you. Some inches separate you, kneeling on the ground holding the spray gun with a raised eyebrow and the tip of the nose wrinkled. He moves his hand one time, urging you to take the ring.

Your eyes travel to the picnic table, with incredulous men sitting there. Your father is freaking out and your uncle is losing it too. Doubting, you grab it having a look of it, before look at Happy again. Leaving away the paint, you take off the bluetooth headphones of your ears.

“I like it”. You say, 'cause you're not sure what he's trying to tell you.

“Good, you're gonna carry it for the rest of your life”.

“Perdona, ¿qué?” (Excuse me, what?)

“Jesus Christ, he's doen'et”. You can hear Chibs' surprised voice, turning to him again when they all break in laughter.

“The... hell you doin', Happy?”

“We're gonna get married”.

“We're what?” Getting up and keeping the headphones inside the jumpsuit' pocket, you lift both eyebrows with pursed lips.

“Yea', I wanna marry you”.

“Ah... Wh—What makes you think that I'm gonna marre' you?”

“You don' wanna break my heart”.

“Didn' know you have one”.

“And you also made me breakfast, after fuckin' you so hard I didn't think you could walk”.

“Yea', ah... I was hungry, I thought you too”.

“And you were watching cartoons”.

“‘Adventure Time’ is not only a cartoon”.

“See? What I said”.

Narrowing your eyes, you twist your neck with somekind of confusion. You look again to your father, who shrugs his shoulders not understanding what's happening.

“Listen, imagine that. Me, coming home. At night. With blood in my face after stabbing a guy, and you sewing my gaps, watching cartoons”.

“Does it...?” Licking your lower lip, you cross your arms over your chest. “Does it should sound romantic?”

“With burning red candles”.

You're trying to contain your laughs, pursing your lips and with the holes of your nose getting opened. He opens his arms like it pretty obvious it's the best plan ever.

“So your perfect idea of having a date is me, healing you at four am, when I could be sleeping, and watching cartoons illuminated by red candles”.

“After stabbing some guy”.

“After stabbing some guy...”

“Gripping”. Tranq says some meters away, looking at you two as if he was watching some Netflix movie.

“Do you have a better idea?” He asks you then.

“About the date or about marrying you?”

“My mom taught me to make tacos. You're mexican, you like tacos”.

“Happy... that sound rough and it's a fuckin' clic—”.

“Don' you like tacos?”

“But not 'cause I'm mex—”

“So I can make it for you. That's romantic too”.

“After stabbing some guy”.

“'Course”.

“Ok, weirdo...” You say taking off the collar hanging on your neck, to put the ring in it before wearing it again.

“Wh—What are you...?” Happy turns confused to your father, shaking his head. “What is she doin'?”

“I think she doesn' wanna smear it with paint”. Marcus answers getting up of his seat.

“We're getting married then?” The Son' asks to you, seeing how you kneel to take back the spray gun.

“I'm scared of what you could do if I say ‘no’?”

“Somethen' pretty romantec', lass”. Chibs laughs from the picnic table, provoking the laughter of the men around him.

#sons of anarchy x reader #sons of anarchy imagine #sons of anarchy #happy lowman x reader #happy lowman imagine #happy lowman

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stunset · 4 years

Text

CHAPTER PREVIEW —

THE REVELATOR CHAPTER THREE

PLAYING CATCH UP

It's three months later when Jax has another run in with Ethan's sister.

With the one year anniversary of Ethan's death coming up, he knew it would be inevitable that he'd have to face the Marshall family one way or another. Though Haskall's taunting visits to his parents house have slowed down to almost a complete stop, he can't help but feel like another blow out is bound to happen.

And his brothers feel the same way as they discuss it over church.

"That old dick is gonna get himself killed." Tig growls out, talking about Haskall. The table nods in agreement, even Jax.

He's honestly surprised Clay hasn't sent retaliation the man's way. With the way he comes around the lot or his parents house, drunk and yelling about how they're murderers, Jax thinks he's bound to get himself killed.

But, he knows the only reason he hasn't is because they're Ethan's parents and because of Faith. All the men have come to a unanimous agreement that no harm will come the girls way. Jax can admit that more than once he's went to check up on her. Whether it be asking Michelle about her or just asking around town. He feels a protectiveness over her that he can't really explain. One time Tara heard him asking about Faith and she lost her fucking mind.

"I thought he'd have given it up by now." Bobby says. "It's been a year and dudes got a family to take care of."

"Too busy gettin' drunk to give a shite." Chibs shakes his head. "I woulda never thought Lil Bit's dad would be like that."

"I can't believe it's been a year." Piney breaks in, his voice almost sad.

The table goes quiet for a second. It'll be a year tomorrow and they all seem to feel the weight of it looming over them. Jax runs his hand over his now short hair. It doesn't feel like it's been a year, in fact it feels like it was just a short while ago that Ethan was sitting at this table in between Chibs and Tig. The enforcer of the club that always cracked a joke, and always seemed to have a gun or knife hidden somewhere no matter how many times Clay told him not to hide them in the clubhouse.

"We should do something for 'em." Chibs says.

"We got a run to worry about." Clay replies, shooting down Chibs suggestion.

"Brother, Ethan was an important part of the club." Bobby interjects.

"We should throw a party in Tacoma for him." Jax speaks up, and all eyes turn to him.

Everyone knows that Jax and Ethan were close. After Thomas died Ethan took the role as the closest thing he's ever had to a brother.

And, everyone also knows that Ethan liked to party.

"Ethan loved Tacoma." Opie agrees, giving Jax a nod of his head before they both turn their gaze to Jax's step-father.

Clay seems to think for a second before nodding his head, "Yeah. But we deliver the guns first."

Everyone throws in their agreements and Clay dismisses everyone. They all make their way out of Church except for Clay and Tig who hang back.

"Our first run, brother." Opie says, a grin on his face as he clasps his hands over Jax's shoulders and gives him a shake.

"Hell yeah, man." Jax grins as he can't help but feel like he's finally becoming apart of the club like he's always wanted.

Kyle walks up to the pair with his usual smirk on his face, "Lets get fucking drunk."

Opie and Jax can't say no to their friend and follow him to the bar.

──── ─── ──── ──── ────

Carrie thinks if there's a God, he played a very cruel prank on her family.

What God pairs someone like her up with parents like this?

Parents that sit around the dinner table every night and ask her the same questions? The only thing that ever changes is what they say Grace about.

Thank You God for this fork so I can stab myself in the eye.

"How was school?" Her father asks, like he asks every night.

"It was fine." She answers, the same answer she gives every night.

She wonders how a preacher can possibly be so boring. He's literally paid to talk, how can he not come up with conversation?

She thinks it's because they hate having her as a daughter as much as she hates having them as parents. She's a preacher's daughter who doesn't believe in God. She's a preacher's kid who acts like a Jezebel. She can admit she finds a bit of amusement in disappointing her parents.

"Are you having any trouble in your classes?" Her mother asks, not even bothering to look at Carrie.

It's sad, really. Carrie can recite word for word what her parents are going to ask her. She's sure they know exactly what her answer will be. The only time conversation changes is in public or when she's in trouble.

"No I'm doing fine." Carrie answers, pushing her plate away and standing up.

"Where are you going?" Her father asks, not sounding the least bit worried about it.

"Out." Carrie says simply. She grabs her coat and slams the door behind her.

Her parents won't come looking for her as long as she doesn't get into any trouble. She finds it ironic, the Bible says children are blessings for for parents to raise them up. The only verse her father seems to follow for children is "don't spare the rod."

She feels as if her parents aren't really her parents. They're very separate from her. She knows they've given up on trying to mold her into the perfect choir girl. They're just counting the days until she turns eighteen and leaves. And best believe Carrie's doing the same.

The roar of a motorcycle breaks through the silence of the night. The bike slows down and pulls up next to her, close enough that she can see it's Kyle Hobart.

"What's a pretty girl like you doin' out here by herself?" He asks, flashing her his teeth as he gives her a smile.

Carrie can admit she wishes it would have been Jax or Opie pulling up, she finds them cuter. But, she runs her fingers through her pretty brown hair and gives him a smile.

"Just taking a walk." She says lowly.

He offers her a sleazy smirk, "Need a ride?"

The fifteen year old gives him her own smirk and climbs on the back of the bike.

#jaxteller #jax #teller #jax teller fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #therevelator #the old bones series #chapterpreview #wattpad #acliche

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prettieparker86 · 7 years

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All For You || Part 4

Part 1, Part 2, part 3 & Part 5

Pairing: William “Cap” Hatfield X Reader

Gif Credit: @rkhe, @koriiandr, @tswift1989daily @taykoreatayphoto . Thank you for letting me use your gifs! They are beautiful!

Shout out: This chapter goes out to @lainey-lane, my editor and all around muse. She makes these things happen when my mind get stuck. And to @cryxlowrites who’s beautiful Cap vid made me fall in love with Cap all over again. Thank you both!

Tag: @lumifuer, @hannahmariea If you don’t want to be tagged in the future friends just let me know. Thank you again friends!

A/N: This chapter is very long. Sorry. I didn’t plan it that way, but there was a lot to cover. Also, I originally said, only four parts to this story. BUT I wrote a few more. Now, if you all feel done with this tale I can end it here for tumblr and post the rest elsewhere. OR, I can continue. Let me know if you want more or end it here.

“I saw the look in yer eyes that night. When you said you couldn’ marry ‘im. Said you couldn’ bear it… Now ya don’ have to Darlin’.” Will finished unflinchingly, his eyes reaching for you before he leans down to place a soft kiss upon your forehead.

Pulling back, Will moves to the front of the porch. Moves down the steps till he lowers himself onto one. His eyes scanning out over the field and into the dense woods as nightfall takes hold over the ridge.

Your heart thumps in your chest. The feel of his lips still burning on your skin. The jolt of his kiss still humming through your veins.

Nobody’s ever made you feel the way Will can. Like he knows every part of you. Can awaken even places you didn’t know existed inside yourself with a single touch.

Why couldn’t you have remembered that that dreadful day? Why couldn’t that truth have been more powerful than Johnse’s bitter whiskey and the insatiable hunger of your grief.

You move to sit beside Will, wishing like so many times before that you could just take it all back.

You lower slowly onto the creaking step beside him, lifting your long skirt behind your legs as you go.

Will glances over his shoulder, looking back at the house only muffled words of exchange have escaped out of since you all were sent outside, and you’re reminded that regardless of what Will has just thrown himself in the middle of, your Uncle and Aunt hold all the cards.

As if sensing your thoughts or maybe you were just sensing his, the way you two have done so many times before, Will turns back to you.

“I wan’ you ta know no matta’ what Ma n’ Pa decide, yer not alone in this. I’m gonna stand by you.” Will declares, his eyes piercing you, one blue, one white. The insistence on his breath almost enough to steal yours.

“Why ‘er you doin all this for me?” You finally ask. Your eyes searching his, needing to hear the truth off his own lips.

Not the honorable reasons, not the loyal ones. The reason he’s ready to take this on even if it means going against their family.

The reason he’s willing to raise his brother’s child as if it were his own and make an honest woman out of you.

You have to hear it.

Holding your gaze, an undeniably sexy smile eclipses his face, like butter on a skillet, filling his good eye with an iridescent glow.

“Surely by now you know how I feel ‘bout you.” He answers with absolutely sincerity.

Your cheeks burn against his smile and the weight of his stare as an impossibly happy grin finds your face.

Finally getting the answer you needed. That he’s as crazy about you as you are him.

You wined your arm around his as you nestle in close to his side, resting your head upon his sturdy shoulder.

Your face turns in toward his neck, soaking in the smell of musk and gun power as you gently nuzzle your nose and lips against his sensitive skin, while his hand comes up to tangle in your hair.

In that moment, you don’t know what you’d do without him.

And while you don’t know what’s going to happen, for the first time since this nightmare started you feel like things might actually turn out alright.

“I still ‘member that day Johnse brought you home. I’d been worried sick when you weren’ back by dark. I wen’ lookin fer ya but-“ His words die suddenly with a heavy breath as his confession sends your heart aching and your arms clutching him a little tighter.

“I saw you that morning ‘fore I left for the hills. I saw you cryin’. I shoulda gone to you ‘steada taking off shootin’. But my head wasn’ all right after the McCoy boys. But I a, I shoulda been there for you. Maybe if I had, none of this woulda happened.” Will confesses on a heavy breath, you feel the weight of his words on his slumping shoulders as your face lifts from him and you gently tug his face your way.

“You listin’ ta me Willian Hatfield. I was the fool. I was reckless. This ain’t on you.” You tell him firmly, your eyes imploring his, trying to get him to let go of this nonsense. This burden ain’t his.

“You needed somebody.” He reminds you, the look in his eyes painfully vulnerable with the weight of that truth.

“I ain’t yer responsibility.” You say softly, trying to unshackle this blame he’s wrongly setting at his door.

Gazing deep into your eyes, Will slowly shakes his head.

“Yes, ya are, Darlin’.” He corrects you, reaching to grab your hand from his face and pull it to his lips where he gives your knuckles a gently kiss. “Yes, ya are.”

You quickly pull apart as you hear the front door finally open. Both turning back over your shoulders to take a peak. You see your aunt Levicy standing in the door way.

“Come on,” She beckons with a wave of her hand.

Not needing to be told twice, you both scurry up the steps and enter the house, but nerves start creepin back into your belly as soon as you lay eyes on your uncle Anse. Pipe between his lips, eyeing you both like an executioner about to hand down the sentence.

Levicy goes to stand by her husband as you and Will stand side by side awaiting your fate. Removing his pipe, Anse clears his throat before he speaks.

“You both made a real mess a’things. Disgraced yerselves an’ this family. Hell, I expected betta of both a you.” He drawls out, his voice gritty and edging with anger.

Tears spring to your eyes as your face drops. Biting your lip to hold back the tears, you nod in agreement. Still can’t believe you got yourself into this mess.

Your only solace is your pap ain’t around to see it. No matter you and your brother were born on the wrong side of the bed. You know this news would have broken your Pa’s heart.

You wish Will would take your hand, but you know he can’t. Neither of you can risk setting off Anse’s anger more than it already is.

No, you gotta take this sentence on your own, because you know as good as any, sometimes in life when you make a bed as you have, you just gotta lie down in it.

After a long pause and pull from his pipe, Anse shares a look with his wife. You watch Levicy’s give a subtle nod before he starts back up again.

“This familys got ‘nough troubles already… But what’s done is done. I’ll be sendin’ for Wall in the mornin’. Yer gonna make this legal, make it right, ‘an then I don’ wanna hear it spoken of ‘gain.”

His words sink in as wave of relief washes over you and a breath you didn’t know you were holding comes gasping past your lips.

In seconds, Will is pulling you to him, wrapping you in his arms as your clinging desperately to him, as he places a brief kiss upon your head.

Breathing in the scent of gun powder and pine as your fingers dig into Will’s back, and his warm breath fans against your scalp, and the same words echo and vibrate through your head… Everythin’s gonna be alright.

Your aunt Levicy helped you into your best dress. It was long with tiny blue flowers scattered all along the fabric, the sleeves went past your elbows with white lace ruffles at the ends and buttons down the front.

Your pap had purchased for your birthday last year and you only had one other occasion to wear it before this.

The dress lay forgivingly on you, but the tapered waist felt tighter than you last remember.

You try to hide the shame from your face as your aunt tugs a little firmer at the fabric to button it.

The nicest dress you own. It was a summer dress with buttons up the front and ruffling down at the bottom.

Your aunt and cousin Nancy tied your back in a twist with a few wisps hanging down to frame your face.

For a wedding thrown together in a day, you felt beautiful.

Levicy had gone to check on preparations for the meal after the ceremony when the sound of boots on the floorboards sends your and Nancy spinning around to see who’s coming.

“Aunt Levicy says it’s time.” Your brother calls from the door way.

“I’ll go see if Mama needs a hand with anythin’.” Nancy answers with an easy nod, giving you and your brother a moment.

“Well jus’ look at ya now, don’ you look handsome.” You tell your brother, taking his hand into your own as you draw him closer to you.

Tugging him into the light that’s streaming in through the window, where you can get a better look at him.

Admiring his matching slacks and button up vest, his clean button down shirt underneath.

You haven’t seen him look this nice since election day when your Pap died. Seeing him now coupled with memory of that painful day leaves a bittersweet ache in your heart.

“Ya look beautiful.” Cotton tells you, amazement thick on his breath as his pale blue eyes light up as he looks you over.

That smile and the innocence’s that emanates off your brother’s breath has you reaching for him, pulling him into a tight hug.

Your breath shutters against his shoulder as clutch him tight, his arms wrapping tightly around you in return.

His joy reminds you of days past… he always did have your Pa’s smile.

Seeing Cotton, holding onto him, you realize how badly you wish you Pap were here.

How much you miss him, no less than the day he died, but you’re also thankful and grateful the lord see fit to let you keep Cotton. You can’t imagine your life without him.

Pulling back from his arms, you gently comb the hair back from his forehead, tending to him like you’ve done since you were just a little girl.

It’s moments like this he feels more like your child than your brother, as you gently cup his cheek and find his soft eyes once again.

“I’m so happy yer here.” You tell him on a rattled emotion thick breath as a tear slips free. Unable to hold back the love and loss making waves inside you.

You’d give your right arm to have your Pa here today. You never imagined your wedding without him, but you also can’t help but count your blessings knowing you at least have Cottton.

“Don’ be sad, sissy.” Cotton tells you, the smile falling from his face as he wipes the tear from your cheek.

“I’m not, Cotton. I promise.” You reassure him, taking his hand into yours and giving it a good squeeze.

Looking at him now, that innocence of his that nothing and nobody can steal, he seems more childlike than a man nearly Cap’s age.

And with everything about to change, you need him to know you would never leave him behind. No matter what turn of events your life is about to face.

“Listen Cotton, we haven’ had time to talk much with everythin’ happenin’ so fast, but I wan’ you to know nothin’ changes between us. I’m always gonna be here. Is’ always gonna be me and you. You understand?” You tell him, needing him to know that no matter what happens you’ll always be there for him.

You may have a baby growing inside your belly and a heart about to be promised to Will for life, but nothing changes the bond you and Cotton have.

Nothing changes the promises you made long ago to always look after him. And you don’t want him to worry about none of that now.

“With Cap?” Cotton corrects you, your Pa’s smile filling his face as he seems to grow excited by the idea.

A smile begins to grow on your own too and you nod in agreement. “Yes, with Cap.”

“You love ‘im.” Cotton says, his eyes holding yours, smile still from cheek to cheek.

And it’s moments like these you swear Cotton is smarter than everybody. That he sees things our brains have made the rest of us blind to.

Too much thinking, not enough feeling.

Your smile grows blinding wide on your face with his statement. Unable to deny the way it fills your heart like it’s ready to burst.

“I do… and I love ya too. Always.” You promise, leaning over to place a quick kiss on his pale forehead.

“I love ya too sissy.” Cotton tell you back in the earnest way he so easily gives love. Making you admire that big heart of his all the more.

“Wanna help me downstairs?” You ask, wrapping your arm around his before he gives you a hearty nod and you both move for the door.

You descend the stairs dressed to shine, the old wooden steps creaking beneath your feet, but there’s only one pair of eyes you hope to catch.

Your aunt Levicy and cousin Nancy really made you feel more special than anyone could have asked for under these circumstances and with no time to prepare.

Braiding your hair and pinning it back from your face as wisps dance around your jaw and cheeks. Your dress slims down your figure forgivingly, none would be the wiser to the real reason behind your hasty marriage.

Despite the situation and the means you’ve found yourself here, you feel beautiful.

A feeling that only grows as Will catches sight of you. You spot him first, lost in conversation with Jim by the fireplace as you descend the stairs, but as he turns with the sound of your steps. You watch his words die, his jaw fall slack just a little, his eyes transfixed upon you for every step as your eyes hold unbreakably steady with his in return.

Your heart begins to race with the thought that you’re about to marry him. About to be his wife, finally his in the deepest sense of the word. A wish you had thought was all but lost before last night.

You can’t help but notice how handsome Will looks all cleaned up, in his Sunday best. You’re not sure the last time you saw him in a button down, his hair combed to the side, clad in a pair of clean black trousers and matching buttoned up vest.

He reminds you of your uncle Anse and uncle Wall dressed up so finely as a smile creep up on your face.

Meeting you at the base of the stairs, Will extends a hand.

Giving your brother’s arm a gentle squeeze of thanks and a quick kiss on the cheek, you take Will’s hand as he draws you close.

His eyes are glued on you with a look of sheer wonder you’re sure your own face must mirror.

In that moment, as you take the sight of each other in fully, everyone else in the room disappears, but the two of you. The rest of the world practically falls away.

Gazing up at him, you swallow hard as Will’s callused hand tenderly finds your cheek, sending tingles rippling beneath your skin with his touch.

“I do believe yer the mos’ beautiful thing I’ve eva’ seen.” Will tells you, leaning in close near the shell of your ear, his voice deep and low, his words only for you.

Your cheeks flush with heat under the charming grin curling on his lips and wonder in his gaze as he pulls back.

You get lost in the magnetic quality of that smile and the way you could stare at it all day - until your uncle Anse’s clears his throat, breaking the spell.

“…How we got into this damn mess to begin with.” He grumbles low on his breath to your aunt Levicy, tugging at the pipe in his mouth before marching for the front door, signaling to everyone it’s time to get on with it.

Will quickly releases the hold he has on your face with his father’s disapproval. His smile dropping as he steps back from you, always obedient, always mindful.

Your heart aches just a little with the exchange, wishing you could tell Anse just how honorable and obedient his son really is. That despite how things look, he’d never dishonor you or this family, but you know that isn’t possible without undoing this whole thing in the process.

So you drop your gaze and try to appear obedient as well instead, but as the rest of the family falls in line, moving for the open door, Will surprises you and leans in close to your ear once again, taking advantage of the moment.

“Almost mine, Darlin’” He whispers, pulling back before anyone can notice, causing a rush of heat to fill your face as he offers you his arm to which you gladly slip yours through.

Never more sure of any decision in your life than the one you’re about to make.

The air is crisp and cold on this winter day as you leave the house, trudging through the thin layer of tightly packed snow.

Your aunt Levicy and the girls arranged an area near the back of the property, past the main house and barn.

Out where the mountains surround you as the clouds dance and sway within the valleys in the midday light.

Uncle Wall is waiting for you and Will as he leads you both over to the properties edge.

Your arms intertwined as the sun peaks through the winter clouds hanging over head, bathing you both in warm rays of sunshine that feel like halos from above.

The morning had been overcast and dreary, but now the clouds have begun to break apart, raining heavenly lights down upon you and the few family members in attendance.

A wedding arranged this hastily only family members who lived in the Hatfield homestead or immediately nearby were in attendance.

Anse made it clear, that as far as he was concerned the less people that knew about your transgressions the better.

You overheard Anse grumbling to Will just this morning. Instructing him that if anyone was to inquire about the speed of your marriage that he was to say it was done to ensure you and Cotton were taken care of after your Pa’s passing.

But the Hatfield’s weren’t a bunch of fools and even less would be confused about the sudden nuptials when your baby comes in the not too distant future.

And as much as that thought shames you, knowing you’ll have Will by your side when talk stirs up, leaves you unafraid to face it.

Moving across the snow-covered field, Uncle Wall pins you both on approach, his face set as his stern gaze sweeps between you.

As a child, you knew a lecture was coming with a stare like that, but standing here on this winter day, about to become Will’s forever, not even Wall’s glare can dampen your spirits.

“Thought you two were smarter than this.” Uncle Wall admonishes with a shake of his head, only loud enough for the three of you to hear.

Your throat tightens with a guilt you’re still learning to sit with, but that feeling quickly quiets as Will pats your hand reassuringly.

“Jus’ wanna make this right. Im gonna take good care ‘er.” Cap swears, meeting Uncle Wall’s gaze dead on, man to man as your eyes drift onto the man you’re about to marry, the man you’ve admired and wished for since you were just a girl, watching him in wonder. A truly is a good and just man.

Turning back, you watch Uncle Wall’s gaze sweep between you two for a moment before he concedes with a steady nod.

“You better, son.” He practically warns, before turning his gaze to you.

“An’ this is what you wan’ too lil’ lady?” He asks, concern laced on this breath.

You’d never admit it aloud, but Uncle Wall was your favorite uncle. More gentle and open than Anse, he’s been sweet to you your whole life, his baby brother’s little girl. He was always buying you books, and talking with as if your thoughts mattered just as much as any mans did.

His question sends your eyes falling back on Will, his gaze waiting for you as you stare into one pricing blue eye, one beautifully milky, your heart thumping hard in your chest with assurance.

“Is’ all I wan’.” You confess, never more sure of anything.

“Well then, let’s git to it.” Uncle Wall agrees, opening up the thick book gripped heavy in his hands.

You and Will turn to face each other. His hands tangle with your own as your eyes can’t help but scan the snow-covered winter wonderland around you.

Mostly blank faces meet your gaze in return and instantly you wish your Pap was there. Wish his gentle eyes were staring back at you.

You spot Jim snickering to himself over a swig of whiskey before Anse shoots him a quick look that shuts him up quick.

Levicy stands strong and silent, her arm wrapped around Anse as your uncle stares on, his face expressionless.

Nancy and Robert E stand amongst the children who fidget and stir, holding a strangle knowing glint in their eyes as they meet your gaze. You can only imagine what they must think was going on when they spotted you and Will alone in the past.

Everyone’s quiet, resigned to the state of affairs, the awful truth, except your brother. Except your sweet Cotton.

Only Cotton sees fit to hold a smile wide on his face as your eyes meet. Your silver lining in any storm.

Then you feel it, the gentle squeeze of your hands all tangled up in Will’s big callused ones.

Your eyes drift back to Will’s and instantly the look in his gaze sucks you in, takes you captive in the moment.

The light of happiness in his eyes mesmerizes you, fills your heart with a joy you’ve never known.

He hasn’t said it yet, neither have you, everything happened too fast, but in that moment, you can see it, he loves you.

Staring into his eyes you know, no matter the circumstances that brought you here, there’s nowhere else you’d rather be.

The rest of the ceremony goes off without a hitch as you stare lost in Will’s eyes. No one else matters in that moment.

You say ‘I do’ with a pounding in your heart, and when you hear the words ring off Will’s lips they practically sound like I love you.

When Uncle Wall finally pronounces, you husband and wife, when you stare into Will’s eyes, knowing you’re his forever as he moves toward you in earnest, his steady hand finding your cheek as his face descends slowly to yours, you feel it deep in your heart… Absolute peace.

A family gathering and small feast ensure after your nuptials. To honor you and Will, despite circumstances surrounding your marriage.

When your aunt Levicy asks you to round up the lil ones before they catch a death of cold rolling around in the slush and snow outside you don’t hesitate.

She and your cousin Nancy have already done too much, fussing over a proper family meal, refusing your help as you stand about all dressed up.

Will’s been steady by your side. The quiet touches against your hand or along your side making you crave more of him in way you’ve never felt before, but normally you’d be helping to prepare the meal and it don’t feel right watching as they slave over it and not offer a hand.

So instead you jump at the chance to give a hand wherever you can, even if that means leaving Will’s side.

Trudging out in the snow to gather up the little ones. The sun still shines, but it’s lowering on the horizon and the clouds have begun to thicken, blocking out the suns warming rays more than they show.

Your boots sink into the slush as you spot Levicy’s youngest, Elliot. At barely two, the bottom of his little trousers are all soaked from the snow and slush that comes nearly halfway up his calf’s and the front of his cloths are wet too, no doubt from tumbling as he tried to chase after the older ones.

Scooping him up, you placed the toddler on your hip as you began to call the others children inside.

Making a mental count of them all just to make sure they were all accounted for as they moaned and protested, but scurried inside.

Then you feel it, that prick on the back of your neck when someone is watching you. Your eyes scan about and sure enough you spot Johnse coming down the porch steps. His gaze steadies upon you, headed your way. You clutched Elliot closer to you as your eyes hold with his, unable to look away.

“You make a beautiful bride.” Johnse tells you in a way you know is him just being cordial.

You and your cousin were once so close, he was always your favorite after Will. Could make you laugh like no one else, besides Will, but after what happened between you all, you don’t know how to feel about him, don’t know how to act.

What happened between the two of you still hurts your heart and what came of it you’ll have to live with forever.

You don’t hate him and you don’t want to not trust him, but things ain’t like they use to be.

Turning for the house you start up, breaking from his gaze as your eyes turn onto Elliot offering him a gentle smile.

“Thanks Jonce.” You answer politely.

“Motherhood suits you, I do believe.” Johnse tells you, following you over to the front steps.

A nervous edge creeps up your spine with his words as if they’re laced with some hidden innuendo you’re afraid to face.

“Best git Elliot into the house ‘for he gits sick.” You offer back. Trying to feigned a casual air as you try your best to escape this time alone with Johnse. Your gut sensing whatever he has to say, it ain’t gonna be good.

You almost make it when Johnse suddenly grabs your arm on the front steps. His grip gentle, but halting as you’re forced to turn back and meet his gaze.

“Listen, I was hopin’ we could talk-“ Johnse tells your gently, his light blue eyes reaching for you before his words died against the sound of a new voice.

“Yer gonna catch a cold out here with no coat on, Darlin’.” You hear Will’s voice coming up quick beside you as your face whips back around toward the front door.

Spotting Will moving to the step above you, you feel a sigh of relief leave your lungs.

“I was just gittin’ the children.” You explain.

Coming up on you, Will’s hand slips around your back, running gently up and down your spine as he sends you a warming grin that always makes you feel safe before his gaze drifts up to his brother.

“I was jus’ goin’ to gather up some more fire wood from the pile. Hows about you gimme’ a hand, Jonce?” Will implores more than he asks as his hand leaves your back and he moves toward his brother.

You catch Johnse’s gaze fleetingly as Will grabs at his brother arm, turning him back the other way and practically pulling him down the steps.

A tightening fills your heart as you watch them go. Knowing with every beat of your heart, somethings not right and they ain’t going to no wood pile.

You had tried to make quick work of getting all the kids inside. Tried to get back out to Will and Johnse as fast as you could.

The sick feeling in your heart sure something wasn’t right between them, but then Aunt Levicy needed you to pull a pies from the oven while she mashed up the potatoes and after everything she had already done, you couldn’t deny her such a simple request.

But once the pies were lined up on the window sill cooling, you were racing back outside to find them.

When you can’t find Will and Johnse near the wood pile, your heart starts to race, worry begins to twist tighter in your gut.

Confirming every fear you had when he and Johnse first took off… This was never about gathering wood.

Clutching your shawl tighter around your shoulders as the cold creeps in beneath the fabric of your dress.

Your eyes scan about your surroundings as your body moves in a steady circle to get a good look about, the skirt of your dress twirling with the motion.

The font yard is clear as supper is almost ready. The open snow covered grass surrounds the house, surrounding you. Just beyond that lies the forest. Full of dense foliage, trees taller than five men stacked.

Normally their luscious green hues would stare callingly back at you, but it’s winter, only barren branches and brown dead leaves meet your gaze.

You’re heart starts to deepen with worry when suddenly you hear it. Muffled, but not too far away as you follow the sound like bread crumbs left to lead the way.

You hear Will’s voice, you’d know it anywhere, as you move steadily along the side of the old wooden barn, hear the grit thick on his breath. It tells you he’s displeased far stronger than any choice of words ever could.

You tug your shawl a little tighter around you as the setting sun begins to draw in the cold mountain air or maybe’s it’s just the apprehension finding its way into your heart… You’re not sure which.

“Coulda had all the girls in Wes’ Virginia and Kentucky alike fer all I care, ‘nyone but her. You knew what she meant ta me, but you didn’ thinka that did ya?”

“I never meant neither of yous no harm, Cap. I tell you true, but if she’s carryin’ my baby-“

Will and Johnse’s words send a quick shiver down your spine. Send your mind racing with thoughts of what Johnse’s got cooking up, but you never get to hear what his intentions are, before a loud bang sounds.

Nearly startling you as the wooden walls of the barn start to rattle from the force of it, and you know Will has lost his temper.

Grabbing the skirt of your dress, you trudge quickly through the layers of mud and snow.

Rounding the back of the barn as quickly as you can, and when you do, your intuitions prove you right.

You find Will’s got Johnse pinned up against the barn by the collar of his shirt.

Your new husband’s chest is heaving, his nicely combed hair now fallen wildly in his face as he stares his big brother down with a raw intensity that leaves even you feeling rattled.

“This is my family, you understand Jonce? ‘n you’d best not to get any ideas otherwise.” Will seethes in his face.

You move quickly toward them, your own fears momentarily forgotten as the situation suddenly escalates.

Hoping to stop all this nonsense before someone else catches wind of it.

The back of the barn has you all covered for the time being, but with the way this situation is rapidly unfolding, it’s likely someone will come to intervene if Johnse and Will start to brawl. And then everyone will know the awful truth.

The terrible truth you thought you had managed to bury when you wed Will today, but you’re beginning to see this secret is too big to completely disappear forever.

“Will,” You call as you come up on them, but your voice only gets drowned out by Johnse.

“But if she’s havin my-“ Johnse tries once again to reason with his brother like the well-meaning fool he is, missing the importance of this to Will completely.

“Nah, you listen Jonce, you took somethin’ that wasn’ yours ta take and then you ran off like a coward when it came time to own up to it, jus’ like you always do. I stood by her. I faced Pa. The baby she’s carryin’ is mine. You best to forget anything else.” Will carries on. His fists clenched so tightly around Johnse’s collar his knuckles are turning white.

He hasn’t even glanced your way. In all his anger, you doubt he even knows your there or realizes it’s you.

“Will,” You try again, your voice low from shock as the truth of Johnse’s realization sets in.

You had known in your heart he knew the baby was his. Despite what Will told his Pa.

How could he not? But after Johnse said nothing when Uncle Anse pressed you, you’d had somehow thought he had accepted the possibility the baby could be Will’s.

But thinking on that now you realize how silly the notion was. Why would he believe you had been with them both? He knows you better than that.

You try to catch Will’s eye, but he’s too deep in it now to notice you anyway. Breathing hard, intense gaze piercing on Johnse like the rest of world has fallen away as he drives his point home.

“Yer my brother Jonce, but if you try ‘n interfere with my family. You will answer for that.” Will threatens, his breath heavy, his eyes drilling into Johnse so fiercely it surprises you.

You’ve never seen him look at his brother this way before. Johnse’s older, thicker, and harder, but Will is taller, more lanky, and has an intensity inside him any man should fear.

The kind you know could turn on Johnse if he pushed Will too far. It’s not something you dwell on often, but you’ve noticed a change in Will.

Since he took part in avenging your Pa’s death, since skunk hair was savagely murdered, since all this nonsense with the McCoy’s sent men into these hills hunting you family down for a bounty.

Will’s harder now, more on edge, more quick tempered, and Johnse has certainly stirred up the worst in him just now.

“Cap!” You finally shout, finding your voice. You’ve never called him that.

Not in all your years together, but nothing else was breaking through the heat of his gaze and you knew in your gut this whole mess was only gonna turn more sour.

His face whips over to you almost instantly, his pupil going wide as he takes the sight of you in as if he’s just now realizing you’re there.

“What’s goin’ on?” You ask, concern laced on your breath, your eyes searching his, before briefly falling on Johnse and then back onto Will.

You can’t say you’re entirely surprised by this turn of events. Can’t say your surprised Johnse’s wants to own up now after leaving you when you needed someone most.

You also knew how upset Will was with his brother over what happened and then for leaving you to face it on your own.

You’d seen that fire in his eyes when Johnse had tried to talk you earlier, but it’s your wedding day, as last minute as it was, didn’t seem like the best time to air these grievances.

Turning back to Johnse, Will instantly let his brother go, smoothing out the collar of his shirt.

“We was just having a word, is all. Right Jonce?” Will said, his voice edging with the answer he expected his brother to give, but you can also tell he’s trying to cover. You can tell he senses your fears and is trying his best to ease them.

“That’s right,” Johnse agreed, tugging down his shirt to smooth out the wrinkles. His gaze heavy upon you.

Your eyes pass between them both, not fooled in the least. You heard what they said, saw them with your own two eyes, but as long as it was done, you’re willing to just let it be.

Will steps closer to you as Johnse pushes off the barn wall, becoming practically a barrier between you two, but as Johnse moves to leave, Will leans in with a parting word.

“Stay away from her. I don’ wan’ you upsettin’ her. Yeah hear?” Will warns low on his breath, leaning in close, blocking his brother’s retreat.

Will’s words surprise you, the warning on his breath, but then you watch Johnse meet his gaze dead on.

“Don’ look like I’m the one upsettin’ her.” He cuts back as if Will is making a whole lot out of nothing, before pushing past his little brtoher and moving toward the house.

You hear a huff leave your husband, watch his shoulder grow tight.

“Will…” You say gently, reaching out to place hand on his shoulder, rubbing gently at the tension you see building between his muscles.

“I didn’ wan’ you to see all that.” Will admits on a heavy breath before he turns around slowly to face you.

“He knows? He gonna tell ‘nyone?” You ask with apprehension, biting on your lower lip at the thought.

Holding back the heaviness that wants to build on your heart with this news as your gaze wanders over your shoulder to the direction Johnse’s left in.

This day didn’t go at all like you planned. Yer Pa wasn’t there, most of your kin wasn’t either, but you still got the result you always wanted, the one you always prayed for, to be Mrs. William Hatfield and the thought Johnse could stir up something that could hurt that, broke your heart.

You feel Will’s big callused hands surround your face as he draws it back to him. You find his eyes waiting for you before he speaks.

“My brother’s a fool, but he ain’t that dumb. Don’ matter though, we’re married now. Nothin’ he can do. I’m not gonna let him or anyone’ come between us. Yeah hear?” Will swear it, in that deep breath gritty way that always has you believing him, but still you’re scared.

Scared Johnse will stir up trouble. Scared others will look down on yeah all if the truth came out. Sacred Will might change his mind after the baby comes. Scared this bubble will burst. Scared.

But Will seems to sense that, the way he knows you so well, as you feel this thumb gently stroke over your cheek as his forehead drops down to yours.

“Yer my wife. There’s nothin’ I wouldn’ do to keep you safe and happy, Darlin’. You ain’t gotta worry about Jonce or ‘nyone else.”

“But the baby?” You ask, fear edging in your voice. Your nervous, nervous over what all this means.

“Our baby,” Will corrects you, his choice of words making your eyes water as your arms reach out and wrap around him.

“Our baby?” You ask on a shuttered breath, making sure he really means it.

“We’re a family now, Darlin’.” He tells you, smile spreading wide on his face.

The smile that always leaves you weak in the knees, that makes your heart flutter and belly flip.

Hearing all your need to, you pull Will into a passionate kiss. Knowing he’s finally yours, all yours, to have and to hold as you please.

#cap hatfield #cap hatfield imagine #william cap hatfield #boyd holbrook #boyd holbrook imagine #hatfield & mccoy #cap hatfield x reader #cap hatfield x oc #boyd holbrook x reader #boyd holbrook X OC

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rykertarretti-blog · 7 years

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[31 Hours Before Ryker left for Exodus]

“C’mon... Just a quick one,” Ryker pleaded.

The orange-hair girl sitting next to him tilted her head, her eyes rolling over to look at him. She shook her head. “No, Rye. It’s making me too sad...” She plucked the cigarette from between his fingers to take a long drag from it.

He sighed before taking a swig of his beer. He pouted. “Pweeese? I have pictures of us, sure... but I want just a little video to look at when I start to miss you, Teal.”

She exhaled the smoke a bit forcefully. “You shouldn’t be missing me while you’re up there doin’ whatever...” She glanced over at him before looking down at her feet.

“Yeah? And why is that?” Ryker asked with a cocked brow as he looked over the girl who wouldn’t make eye contact with him.

“You’re movin’ on... You’re leavin’ me... We should move on.” Her voice was low. He frowned, letting out a sigh. He shook his head. “It doesn’t have to be that way. I can’t just forget you, Teal. I love you.” He placed his hand on hers, his fingers curling to hold it.

“Ryker, you’re asking for the ultimate long-distance relationship. I get why you’re leavin’. It’s to help Zane and I totally get it. I love Zane and I want what’s best for him to get better. It just don’t make you leavin’ any easier. I can’t sit here on this dying rock, looking up at the sky knowing you ain’t comin’ back. I’m going to try... I really am... But we both know it’s better to just move on...” She turned her hand so that she could lace their fingers together. She handed the cigarette back to him.

Ryker didn’t say anything for a minute, listening to the sounds of cars, yelling neighbors, police sirens, and that damn power line buzzing (accompanied with the faint sound of gun shots somewhere far in the distance) fill in what would have been silence between them as they sat in lawn chairs in front of his house. His eyes looked over at her, trying to remember every inch of her face so he could recreate it whenever he wanted.

“Marry me.”

Teal looked over at him, a bit of shock on her face for a moment, then rolling her eyes once she realized what he asked. “No. We’ve been over this...”

“Dammit Teal,” Ryker groaned, a bit exhausted at her fighting it. “If you marry me today, right now... You might be able to go with me up there.”

“I don’t want to go up there.”

“And why not? You’ll have me and Zane. It’s fancy up there. It’s not here!”

“Up there ain’t home!” Teal let out an annoyed huff. “This place sucks. It’s violent, crummy, dingy, and corrupt, but I know how to deal with down here. Up there... it... it ain’t right. You and I took a pledge. Earth is our grave! We ain’t perfect together, I know that. I can be difficult and you ain’t a peach either... But Earth is our resting place.” She reached over and a swig of his beer, looking off into the street. “Plus, we ain’t made for marriage. You saw what happens when people get married. It goes wrong. What we have ain’t perfect, but it ain’t wrong,” she added. She wasn’t wrong. Ryker didn’t want to spend his last day on Earth fighting with Teal. He took a drag from his cigarette, finishing it and flicking it onto the driveway. He exhaled, squeezed her hand and then stood up to stand in front of her. “Let’s go to the mountains. I think the crazy bootleggers were driven out of there...Let’s have a good last night. There’s that little cabin up there. We’ll go, wake up early, drive back and be back in time for me to fly out of your life forever. Sound good?” Teal thought about it, a small smiling creeping onto her lips the more she thought about it. Her eyes lit up with excitement and jumped up into his arms. “Let’s do it!”

He spun her around and kissed her. He set her back down and took a step away from her, pulling out his phone and holding it up. “Now do something nice for the video now that you’re happy for like... 20 seconds,” he told her with a small smile. Knowing damn good and well she should be making the best out of his final hours, she grabbed his phone from him. She hit record, smiled, and blew him a kiss. She tossed his phone back to him.

“There! Now ya have it! It’s me forever blowing you a kiss while also kissing you goodbye.”

#backonearth

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everyhowlmarksthedead · 4 years

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BUSINESS AND PLEASURE

Johnny “Coco” Cruz x Chibs Telford’ daughter!Reader

“What if you should move to Santo Padre for two months...”

Chapter one.

Word count: 3.4k

Author comments: I hope you all enjoy. English isn’t my first language, so I’m sorry if I have some mistakes with grammar. Gif credits: @angels-reyes.

Thanks to my lovely beta reader and partner in crime with this one, @chibsytelford 💘

Tag list: @starrynite7114 @dazzledamazon @chibsytelford @mara-mpou @sammskellington 💥 (if you wanna be tagged, send me a message!)

Since you've been forced to move from Glasgow to Charming, your life has been a roller coaster with noisy falls into hell. Some days you were fine, the rest you were only available to create chaos around you. Your mother died because of a terminal disease, after fighting for two years, and the last time you saw your father before that it was when you were a child. Came to live with him after twelve years without no contact, except for a few calls every month, it was hard. Harder than he could imagine.

The first days you were locked in the room he enabled to you in his house, where you only had a bed, a nightstand and a wardrobe. No picture, no colors around, nothing. It was kinda depressing. At least, he tried. He tried to re-build the good relationship you two have had in the past, before your mother kicked his ass out of Scotland, when Clay said he needed him at California, with the Sons'.

Filip used to cook your favourite dishes, having had to learn to cook before. At first you only ate two or three bites, until one morning when you woke up hearing him screaming in scottish. You've never heard him so angry, and that scared you. Barefoot and silently, you went out of your room, sticking your head by the door frame of the kitchen. Unbelievable. He was arguing with his phone. Specifically with YouTube. You could see how he was watching a recipe of baked fish. It sounded easy, right? The problem was the sauce. Apparently he forgot to add some ingredients, and he had to repeat it from the start.

“Shit!” He shouted hitting the marble countertop, supporting his fist on it with his head down and a sigh in his mouth. “Fuckin' pepper and fuckin' lemon”.

“I don't like”. You said in a whisper, getting out of your hiding place.

He turned at you frowned and upset, leaning against the furniture. Cross-armed, he shook his head with his gaze on the floor. You knew how frustrated he was, trying to kick you out of that sadness that it was consuming you. You lost your mother, you had to move out of your country, from the cold to the heat. And you truly hated sunny days.

“I just... wanna make you feel like you're at home”. He said kinda desperately, scratching his head hard, completely disheveled. “I know this is not Scotland, nor your house. It's ok if you miss it, but this situation is killing me too. So, please, give me a break...”

You heard every word he told you, feeling the same knot he felt on his chest, and his voice about to drown in tears. You walked slowly towards him, looking inside your head for the correct things to say.

“I like the way you cook, but you scared the shit out of me, 'cause I didn't know you were shouting at YouTube”. You thought maybe some kind of joke could help, while he was holding your hands. “I don't like pepper, nor lemon, so it's fine. Maybe... we could have lunch together, if you're not busy with the club”.

“Fuc' da' club, caileag”. For the first time, you saw him smiling and it was amazing. “Do you think everything will be fine?” He sounded sad, simply sad. But you nodded without any doubt.

“We will be fine, athair”.

That was all he needed to hear. Chibs leaned towards you, placing a hand behind your head to leave a kiss on your forehead. Your hands held on his waist in a warm hug that you were wanting to give him since you arrived to Cali.

━━━━━━ (One year later) ━━━━━━

But what happened next was totally unexpected. You hear Happy talking with his prospect, around the corner of the workshop, about a dangerous mission they have to take care of, keeping them for two months out of Charming. And by Chibs decision, you're not coming. But he didn't tell you anything about it, before. Walking in the front yard, you find six motorbikes and a van you don't recognize from your charter, but belong to an MC. You're angry, so angry. Your steps are heavy and big, going faster to the clubhouse, taking off the rings of your fingers to keep them inside the pocket. You open the door suddenly, without warning the men who seems mexican sitting closer to your father. You only can see that fucking scottish who made a promise he's not gonna keep. And he sees the fury burning in your orbs.

“Oh, shit”. It's everything he can say before one of your fists go straight to his face.

“Woah, woah, take it easy, chamaca!” One of the unknown man talks, trying to walk next to you, until you point it at him with the gun you had tucked under your shirt. All the men raise their hands with their eyes so much opened, letting you know that they're not gonna interfere again.

Time have passed. Some wounds has been closed and you have got used to the heat of the coast. Now, you're not who you used to be. SAMCRO changed you, having its good things and its bad things. You lost all the innocence you had, learning to defend yourself by fighting body-to-body and shooting weapons of different calibers. Happy and Tig usually try to catch you by surprise hitting you, but your faster than their old asses, blocking every hit that comes from nowhere. And sometimes you ‘play’ paintball with Juice on his free day. You're one of the Redwood family, being included in every mission one way or another, working hand by hand with the prospect; with the minimal difference that your father is your sponsor. This gives you two some problems because of the strong character you have inherited from him. And there are some times when you end up being beaten. The crew is used to it.

You turn to your father, who is rubbing his right cheek between some groans, supporting a hand on the pool table. You're breathing distressed with your eyes full of tears. You know how it works. When he leaves Charming, you don't have any notices for almost one week. You live every day with the pain of not knowing if he's still alive or not. Two months is too long. You can't even live without him at this point of your life, how are you supposed to do it?

“You promised me!” You yell at him pointing your chest with your own forefinger. “You said ‘us against the world’! You said it!”

Your voice is breaking, drowned by the tears that run down your face and your neck.

“You're a fucking liar! You're doin' the same you did thirteen years ago!” Yes, you can see how your words are affecting him, but you don't care.

“Baby, listen...” He tries to give some steps towards you, receiving a push on his chest.

“I don' wanna hear more bullshit”. Putting the gun again behind your back, you turn to the front door, with a slight pause next to the other charter. “By the way”. You stare to the man you pointed seconds ago. “Next time I'm talking to my father, you shut the fuck up...” Reading his patch, you raise your eyes at him. “Presidente”.

You slam the door shut after you leave, seeing Happy next to your motorbike. He knows you know what is gonna happen by the tears running your cheeks. But even if you don't wanna talk with him, being your confidant since you came to Charming, he wraps strongly your body with his arms before you can run away from him. Crying inconsolably, you hide your face on his chest without moving your arms, only supporting your weight against him. Happy rest his chin on your head with a sigh, 'cause he knows well how much you suffer when your father attends a mission out of town.

“Are you leaving too?” You finally ask, even when you don't wanna hear the answer. He nods slowly, cleaning your tears with his long fingers.

“I'm sorry. I promise I'll try to write you”. He says hoarsely. “I'm sure you didn't let Chibs explain himself, but listen… Not even my prospect is coming. It's really dangerous for you two, we're gonna be ok, (Y/N)”.

“Who are they? What are they doing here?”

“They're Mayans, from Santo Padre. Oscar and Canche ‘family’. We can't leave you here, alone, without any protection. So, Chibs asked them to take care of you while we're out”.

Now you understand what's happening. It's suppose you should move from Charming to the south Cali, surrounded by men you don't know. Leave your house, again. Your cry appears again, shaking your head with some sobs stuck on your throat.

“Baby, listen, listen”. Happy try to have your attention cupping your face between his hands. “They're good men, they're gonna take care of you. And Canche will go to Santo Padre every week to see you”.

“I don' wanna go, Happy. I wanna go with you, please”. You beg in tears, with your lips trembling.

“(Y/N), you can't”. He sentences, trying not to sound too rude. He snort closing his eyes for a second. “Listen, they also have a car scrapping. You can work there. You like cars and you studied to be mechanic. 'Am sure these two months gonna' pass so fast that you're not gonna notice it”.

The front door of the club house gets opened. You turn for a while, just to see how the men gets out of it. You sigh, looking at Happy again. And you nod, even when you don't want to do it. Pulling yourself away from him, you're heading towards your motorcycle. In silence, after fastening the helmet, you start the engine. If you have to leave Charming you wanna do it as soon as possible. So, it's time to pack your stuff.

And that is what you're doing, when you hear your father's keys opening the door. His footsteps coming close to you, watching sideways how he leans against the door frame arm-crossed. Your basic clothes are already inside the suitcase on the bed, closing the zip after checking again that you have taken everything you could need. In the bag next to it, you keep your laptop, your headphones and all the chargers, in addition to other things.

“Please, talk to me”. Chibs says, but there's no answer from you. “I didn't know how to tell you, and I'm sorry, honey. But I promise...”

“Don't”. You turn at him raising your forefinger. “Don't make any promise you're not gonna keep, Filip”.

He knows you're truly sad when you call him by his real name. Chibs walks towards you, holding your hands slowly hoping that you're not gonna push him away again.

“Bishop and his guys 'gonna take care of you. And Happy said he told you about ‘Romero and Brothers’. I'm pretty sure you're gonna have fun there”. He's trying to make you understand.

“I don' care. I'm gonna be away from you”. You finally say, letting go all the pain you have inside your chest, oppressing your heart. “And you're not allowed to text me, nor call me. Could you imagine how distressing it feels?”

“'You think it isn't for me? I'm not stone cold, even if sometimes it's what it looks like, (Y/N). I think about you all the time. About what you're doing at any moment. If you're eating well, if you're sleeping... All the fucking time”. He replies trying to hide his anger. “But I need to protect you. And there aren't better hands than Bishop's”.

You nod. You don't want to continue arguing with him. Filip hugs you tightly, hiding your face on his neck, trying to not break in cry again. Your hands clinging on the back of his shirt. You're not sure how many time you have been like this, when your father decides that he should call the Mayans to pick you up.

The roars of motorcycles, coming just in time, have your attention. You take your stuff, rolling the suitcase over the floor till you find them outside. Your father takes it to keep it inside the van, before saying goodbye.

“They're gonna take care of you, ok?” He says again, holding your cheeks between his hands. You nod in silence about to cry. Leaving a kiss in your forehead, he hugs you. “If I can, I will text you. I promise. And I'll keep that one”.

“Two months?” You ask raising your gaze at him.

“I'll be back before your birthday”. Assures you. “I love ya' more than anything. You know, rai'?”

You nod again swallowing, before leaving one last caresses in your left cheek, cleaning the tear that falls down through it.

“You're going with my man, Coco”. Bishop talks, with the helmet covering his head while he wears both leather gloves.

“And my bike?” You turn to your father with more dramatism than necessary.

“It's in the van too, don' worry”. Chibs answers, hitting twice one of the doors. “Canche could need you”.

“Or us”. The Mayans president add with a soft smile on his lips.

Things starts to change, when you're conscious that you will continue working with the charters even if yours isn't present. So, at least, it's not gonna be that bad as you thought.

“I'm sorry 'I pointed you with my gun”.

“What I can expect from Chibs' daughter? It would have scared me more if you hadn't, after everything we've heard from you”. Your father chuckles because of the words of the Mayan. “Ready?”

You hug him again, taking some seconds to memorize his smell to not forget it at all.

“I love you”. You whisper, pulling him away softly, before walk to the front passenger seat of the van.

But, before the man could start the car, your father makes a last appearance, pointing with the forefinger to all the men presents there.

“If anyone of you touch my daughter, I'll cut off your cock and make you eat it”. The Mayans know that it's not a joke, so they nod agreeing.

“I've a daughter. Her name is Letti”. The mexican accent, camouflaged in the foreign language, pushes you out of your thoughts. “She's sixteen, but I think you could be fren'”.

━━━━━━ ﹅ ━━━━━━

The sun is falling when you leave the ‘Welcome to Charming’ sign behind the van. You sigh heavily settling in your seat. The fresh air that enters by the open window makes fly some strands of your hair, supporting both arms against the door, with your chin on it, to watch out of the car the sunset on the horizon. It's gonna be hard, you know it, but at least you will have Canche visiting you every week. Maybe Oscar comes from Stockton too.

“Yea', maybe...” You say, turning for a second.

Coco turns the radio, hoping that music makes you feel better, looking for a channel without interferences. Then, you hear your favourite song, turning to the hand that is moving the calibrator. The man stares at you with curiosity, before turning up the volume. The melody continues, while you go back to your position leaving your cheek this time and closing your eyes to focus in the song.

“Hey, oh, listen what I say, oh! I got your hey, oh! Now listen what I say, oh!”

You're about to give him the silent treatment, but that only has bad points in your favor. You'll have to live and work together for the next months, so sooner or later, you're gonna have to talk him.

The first time you listened that song, you were living with your parents in Glasgow. You can remember your father singing it to you all the time, before go to Charming. So, listen to it again causes you bittersweet feelings.

“I like the Red Hot' too”. Coco says trying to be kind, while his fingers drum the steering wheel to the beat of the music. You have to say that he has a funny voice and hearing him singing sounds like a dying cat. That makes you chuckle. “Hey! What's up, mami? Don' laugh on me!”

“Sweet Jesus Christ, you're gonna make it rain”. Your laughter is loud now, capturing president attention who slows down to reach your window.

“It's everything ok, uh?” He shouts over the sound his motorbikes does.

“I hope he has a good aim, 'cause he couldn't work as singer!” You say in laughs.

“He's a veteran Marine, kid! What do you think?” Bishop accelerates to return to his place, while you turn to the driver, truly surprised. He has a triumphal smile on his face and his gaze in front.

“These motherfuckers discharged me because I used a rifle to shoot a cigar out of an officer's mouth”. He tells you. “I was three hundred meters from him”.

This is amazing and you feel the curiosity growing inside you. Curling your legs on the seat, putting around them your arms, you stare at the Mayan.

“Can you tell me about it?”

“'Bout wha'?” He asks looking at you for a second a little confused.

“About the Marine”.

He frowns, looking at you again.

“You wanna hear 'bout it?”

“I'm not asking you about the Area Fifty One”. You say with a sharp voice shrugging.

“I'm pretty sure that would be a good talk too”.

“C'mon! It's a long travel!” It almost seems like you're starting to beg, but the topic of the Navy and Marine has always interested you.

“It's weird!”

“Why?”

“Cuz' nobody has asked me 'bout it before”. He says with the same confusion you saw on him before.

“So bad is it...?”

“No, it's... cool. Pretty cool”. He replies with a slight smile on his face.

“I wanted to enlist in the British Army, but my mother said it was too dangerous for me. So, I didn't”. Your voice trembles for a second, and he realizes it.

“Sorre' 'bout your mom, Chibs told us”. He says after a moment in silent. “I killed mine”.

Your face shows a similar gesture of horror, he shrugs exaggeratedly.

“That bitch hit my daughter, and hurt her so bad. She also forced her to have a ‘bad life’, 'you know what I mean. She deserved it”. The calm with which he explains overwhelms you.

You're starting to think he hasn't had a good life. But who in their right mind would work for an MC? Not you, neither does he.

“And your mother hate you so bad that she called you ‘Coconut’?” You try to finish the tension installed inside the van with somewhat bad joke.

“The fuck told you that's my name?” He breaks in laughter, shaking his head, accidentally giving a flywheel.

“Oh, shit”. Both say in unison. The charter looks back.

“My bad!” He shouts sticking his head out the window for a moment.

“Then? What's your name?”

“Johnny Cruz. And everyone calls me Coco”.

“Why?”

“We're not in that level yet, mami”. He imitates the sharp voice you used before.

“Ok, but, are you gonna tell me about the Marine?”

He sighs rolling his eyes, before showing you again his smile. So, there you are, lying on your seat stretching legs crossed on the dashboard of the van. He starts to talk, of course with the funny story of how he enlisted and all the chaos he created, compensating for it with his good aim. His voice is so calm, that if you close your eyes, you could think is one of those podcast people use to sleep; without the part of shooting, murdering, and all the bloody stuff.

Actually, you did. You closed your eyes, opening it when the night has fallen. You yawn, putting your legs on the floor of the van.

“Sorry, I didn't sleep last night”. You apologize with flushed cheeks, rubbing your eyes.

“It's ok, mami. Te ves bonita mientras duermes”. (You look pretty while you're sleeping). He says.

“What did you say?” You ask, pretending that you don't speak spanish, but the truth is that you studied it for three years while you were living in Scotland.

“That you were drooling everything”. He lies so bad that he's a little nervous. “We're almost reaching to Santo Padre”.

“Great... Home, sweet home, isn'it?”

#mayans mc imagine #mayans x reader #mayans mc x reader #mayans mc #johnny coco cruz x reader #coco cruz x reader #here we go coconut

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