hi!! i saw your requests are open and im currently rewatching lost and crushing on sawyer all over again, could you maybe write a fic about braiding his hair? (lots and lots of fluff) f!reader in an already established relationship with james, thank you!
Braids
Paring: Sawyer x F!Reader
Word Count: 1.4k
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
The first rays of sunlight filtered through the thick jungle canopy, casting soft beams of gold onto the beach. The island was waking up slowly, but the usual chatter of the camp was still blissfully absent. The ocean’s waves lapped lazily at the shore, and a cool breeze rustled through the palm trees, carrying with it the salty scent of the sea.
You stretched out on your back in the makeshift tent, the one you shared with Sawyer—James, really, but no one else ever called him that. The tent was a little beaten up from the weeks of wear, but it had become something of a sanctuary for the two of you, offering a sliver of privacy in an otherwise chaotic life.
James lay beside you, still fast asleep, his chest rising and falling steadily with each deep breath. His blonde hair, grown longer since the crash, was fanned out across the pillow. It had a habit of falling into his eyes, wild and unruly from the humid island air. You couldn’t help but smile as you studied his relaxed features—his usual scowl and teasing grin replaced with something softer. He looked younger when he slept, less burdened by the weight of his past.
Careful not to disturb him, you turned onto your side, propping your head up with one hand. You reached out with the other, brushing a lock of hair from his forehead, tucking it behind his ear. The sun glinted off his skin, making him look almost golden in the morning light.
James stirred slightly at your touch, a low hum escaping his throat, but he didn’t open his eyes just yet. Instead, his arm snaked around your waist, pulling you closer without a word. It was moments like this that felt like a dream—when the island didn’t seem so harsh, and it was just the two of you, cocooned in your own little world.
You smiled to yourself and continued running your fingers through his hair, enjoying the soft texture of it. It was one of the few luxuries the island had allowed, and you took full advantage of it every chance you got.
“You plannin’ on pettin’ me all morning, or you gonna say somethin’?” His voice was rough with sleep, that slow Southern drawl breaking the silence.
You chuckled, biting your lip as his blue eyes cracked open, peeking at you from beneath those long lashes. “Maybe I’m just enjoying the peace and quiet before you start running your mouth.”
He grinned lazily, pulling you even closer until your head was resting on his chest, his thumb idly tracing circles on your lower back. “Careful, sweetheart. You’re gonna hurt my delicate feelings.”
You snorted. “Oh yeah? Since when have you ever had delicate feelings?”
He raised an eyebrow, pretending to be offended. “You forgettin’ how sensitive I am? I’m practically a damn poet.”
You laughed softly, pressing your hand to his chest as you propped yourself up again. His hair, still falling messily around his face, caught your attention, and you gave him a playful look. “Speaking of sensitive… how about I fix this hair of yours before it takes over your face entirely?”
Sawyer gave a dramatic sigh, though his smile never wavered. “You just can’t resist playin’ with it, can ya?”
“Can you blame me?” You twirled a lock of his hair around your finger. “It’s a mess, but it’s *my* mess.”
He let out a low chuckle, clearly enjoying the attention. “Alright, darlin’. If it makes you happy, braid away.” He dropped his arm from around your waist, folding his hands behind his head in a show of surrender. “But don’t expect me to walk around camp with it, or I’ll never hear the end of it from the doc.”
You smiled and shifted so you could sit up properly, scooting close enough to begin your task. As your fingers moved through his hair, you noticed how he relaxed completely under your touch, the tension in his body melting away as you worked. The familiarity of the moment felt grounding—like an anchor in the storm of the island’s uncertainty.
Starting with a section of hair at the top of his head, you carefully parted it into three strands, letting your fingers move slowly as you began braiding. The hair was soft, slightly damp from the humidity, but it felt natural now—the way things had been since you’d grown close to him. Even in the most chaotic situations, you always seemed to find these quiet moments together, moments where the rest of the island and its dangers faded away.
As you finished the first braid, you leaned down to press a kiss to the top of his head, breathing in the scent of salt and sun that clung to him.
“Ya know,” James said, his voice quieter now, “if I’d known you were gonna turn into a hairdresser out here, I might’ve made you cut it short.”
You laughed softly, moving on to braid another section. “You wouldn’t dare. Besides, I like your hair this way.”
“Oh yeah?” His voice was teasing, but there was something softer underneath. “And what exactly do you like about it?”
You paused for a second, considering his question. “I like that it’s soft,” you said, fingers still threading through his hair. “And that it feels like you when I touch it. Like something familiar.”
James didn’t say anything for a long moment, and when you glanced down at him, you caught the slight tilt of his lips, a rare smile that wasn’t his usual cocky smirk, but something deeper. The kind of smile that made your heart skip a beat.
“You got a way with words, ya know that?” he murmured, his eyes still closed as if savoring the moment.
You hummed in response, finishing the second braid and moving on to the last. The sun was climbing higher in the sky, casting longer beams of light across the sand. The camp would be waking up soon, and the daily chaos would begin again, but right now, everything was still calm. It was just the two of you, wrapped up in the gentle rhythm of the morning.
As you tied off the final braid, you sat back to admire your handiwork. His long hair was now neatly braided in three small plaits along the sides of his head, leaving the rest of it loose and out of his face. It wasn’t anything fancy, but it made him look even more ruggedly handsome in that untamed way only Sawyer could pull off.
“There,” you said softly, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead. “All done.”
He opened his eyes then, glancing up at you with that familiar spark of mischief. “So, how do I look? Like a million bucks?”
You giggled, brushing your fingers over the braids to smooth them down. “Better than that.”
James sat up, pulling you into his lap in one swift motion, his arms wrapping around your waist as he nuzzled into the crook of your neck. “Damn right,” he murmured against your skin, pressing soft kisses along your collarbone. “I’m worth at least a billion.”
You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t suppress the warmth that bloomed in your chest at his touch. “I’ll give you that,” you said, running your fingers through the hair at the back of his neck.
For a moment, the world outside your tent didn’t exist. There were no Others, no looming dangers, no mysteries to solve. Just you and James, wrapped in each other, the morning sun warming your skin and the quiet sound of the ocean in the background.
“Ya know,” he said, his voice low and teasing, “you coulda braided your own hair. Give me somethin’ to hold onto next time.”
You laughed, swatting his arm lightly. “You wish.”
“Oh, I know,” he drawled, pressing another kiss to your neck, “and don’t you forget it.”
You leaned back into him, closing your eyes as the breeze ruffled the fabric of the tent. Whatever the island threw at you today, you felt ready to face it. Because no matter how rough things got, no matter what dangers or mysteries still lingered out there in the jungle, you had this. These moments with James, the man who let you braid his hair in the quiet mornings when no one else was watching.
And somehow, that made everything else a little more bearable.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Please let me know if you’d like to be tagged for oneshots!
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Hiya! I was just wondering if you could do a few more of the V3 boys for the secret love confession scenario? Idm who but I just really loved the first three you did ❤
Sure can! I’m only going to do two more at the time, but I’ll do more people if I get another ask for this! I hope you don’t mind ^~^
Ryoma Hoshi
-You knew that he wasn’t looking for romance, especially with the unfortunate circumstances surrounding his last lover. But it just... it happened so naturally, who were you to deny yourself the chance to confess.
-However, you decided to save him the awkward encounter of denying you upfront by leaving a note on his desk. You left your name off, hoping the confession would be enough for you to move on.
-You saw him come in on his own, adjusting his hat as he walked into the door. You took it as a cue to quickly look down and work on whatever you had in front of you.
-After a bit of struggling to get into the chair, you saw him immediately pick up the note, a grunt of confusion coming from him.
-You had to struggle with yourself to not watch as he read every word,heaven forbid you get caught.
-”Why is this... here?”
-Before you could read his face for a reaction, Miu came running in, Kokichi following her with loud laughter. Whatever was happening was probably going to be explosive.
-Time passed as the two ran around the room, eventually passing Ryoma, still reading the note. Miu stopped behind him, reading a few words before slamming a hand onto the desk.
-”Looks like someone’s getting some tonight! Oh wait, I bet I can read your mind- you’re wishing it was me so you could get your hands on these tits!” She laughed, grabbing everyone’s attention.
-You could feel your face warm at the idea of anything as... lewd as that. No, you just wanted to be closer! Hold hands! This was blowing way out of proportion, and you needed to leave.
-Gathering your things, you walked out of the classroom to the library, your pace quickening when you heard someone call your name out.
-Whoever it was, it seemed you outran them, and you sat yourself down in a corner of the library, opening the closest book to you and starting to read it. You could taste the irony when you realized it was about the art of tennis.
-Regardless, you kept reading, enjoying a bit more knowledge on the sport Ryoma had immersed himself in, regardless of how long ago that was.
-”Y’know, you could just ask me about that stuff. I may not play anymore, but I don’t mind talking about it.”
-Looking in front of you, you saw Ryoma giving you a skeptical look. Sitting down, you were actually at his height. It was nice to see him at eye level, you thought to yourself.
-”Ahaha, I guess I could.” You stayed silent for a little while, the need to say something in your throat.
-”...We can talk here in peace, right?” He took off his hat, revealing his short, light brown hair. You nodded, closing the book and putting it to the side. He took a deep breath, the features on his face showing contemplation.
-”I could feel you watching me from behind. I’m going to assume this...” and he pulls out the letter, holding it out in his hand, “is from you.”
-You look down as you nod, not wanting to make eye contact with him. You can hear a sigh from right in front of you, and you know that rejection is coming.
-”... If it was anyone else, I wouldn’t even consider. But...” he paused. “Maybe I can try love again with you.”
-You feel warmth on your forehead, and glance up slightly to see his face inches from yours, forehead’s touching lightly as his eyes were closed.
-You didn’t expect this, but... you certainly weren’t going to complain.
Shuichi Saihara
-Shuichi was such an easy guy to be around. As shy as he was, he always listened and supported anyone around him. It was admirable, really.
-You had to make sure you covered your tracks when it came to your feelings which were starting to boil over. With some hard thinking, you did literally everything you could to cover your tracks when you decided to do an anonymous letter.
-You wrote it on the computer, you put it in a nondescript envelope, and you were definitely vague enough to not be figured out through the contents of the letter.
-The crowning jewel was that you had come in *hours* before anyone else. Slipping it into his locker was easy as cake, although coming to school at dead hours in the morning was unnerving.
-You didn’t expect to hear piano music coming from down the hall, and decided to take a look. Peeking into the room, you could see Kaede practicing a piece, focusing intently on the sheet music as she played.
-You were going to just walk away when you tripped outside of the door, ungracefully falling onto your face. You heard the piano music stop, and the sound of footsteps getting closer.
-”Oh, I thought I was the only one here! Why are you in so early?”
-You were about to feed some sort of lie about coming in early to study, but you just... you didn’t feel right lying to her. You confessed that you were here to drop someone a love note in their locker, and her smile softened.
-She said that she’d seen people do that before since she comes in early often enough, and wasn’t going to say anything to anyone about why you were here.
-With a little wave, she went back to playing, and you went on your way to somewhere less conspicuous.
-You weren’t around when Shuichi opened his locker, and you didn’t hear him say anything to anyone else about it. The brief moment you talked to him today, he held the same energy as always.
-Had you slipped it into the wrong locker? You weren’t too sure, but you felt anxiety as the day passed without any outward reaction. When you went home, you wrote yet another.
-You slipped it into the locker the same way after double checking the number this time. No way would he just not say anything this time, right?
-Unfortunately, nothing came from your letter again. Shuichi greeted you the same way as before, and you chatted some about his most recent case.
-You continued to do this every day, despite knowing full well that your attempts to keep things anonymous would make it impossible to connect it to you.
-You were especially proud of the contents of this letter, and it had been about a week since you had started. You went to slip the note into his locker again before a hand stopped you.
-You knew this hand. You knew that this was the same hand you had seen carry case files, and occasionally energy drinks when Kaito would ask for them. You knew this was Shuichi Saihara himself.
-His eyes widened as they met yours, his mouth falling open to find some sort of words to say to you, but you weren’t about to have it. You dropped the letter from your hand, tore yourself away from his gentle grip before booking it down the hall.
-”A-ah, wait, wait!!!” Shuichi called, trying to keep up with you.
-Your break out of the building was almost perfect until the door opened up onto your face, making you fall once more on the ground, and you could see the blurry figure of Kaito walking in.
-”So didja find out who it was? I don’t see anyone!”
-Shuichi didn’t say anything, although you could feel the disappointment emanating from him. He held out his hand to you, lifting you up pretty easily. He quickly checked you up and down to make sure you weren’t injured after Kaito bonked you.
-”I... I had a feeling it was you, but I guess... I guess I should’ve been more prepared for this. Wow.” You could see his face flush pink as he looked away and took a step away courteously.
-”You-I-Uh.... I like you too?”
-The silence was palpable as you stared at him breathlessly. You could’ve sworn that he wouldn’t want to pursue any of the sort.
-Guess it was time to actually ask him out, wasn’t it?
For some reason, there was alcohol in the hatch. It was odd, considering you would think this Dharma thing would want you to stay vigilant at all times so that whoever was in this horrible place could push the button once it began to scream at you during the ungodly hours of the night. Nevertheless, you took it, feeling much like Sawyer, whom you had gotten close to since the stupid hatch was busted open. He often elected to go down and push the button with you, which you thought was odd, considering he previously ranted about how cramped it was in there. Still, he begrudgingly joined you once you started regularly “signing up” for the shifts.
You were easy friends, considering you were the only one who could tolerate him, and out of everyone on the Island, he seemed to trust you the most. Getting comfortable with someone like that often leads to softer feelings, which you very often push away because it seems like a dumb, girlish crush that would most definitely get you hurt in the end. You bantered with each other often and sometimes thought the teasing fell into flirting, at least on his end. You didn’t want to push it too far just in case, for whatever reason, Sawyer found you to be too much and just push you away. Except that never happened. The more time Sawyer seemed to stick to your side or hole up with you in an overnight shift at the hatch, the more you felt whatever was between you take root into the definitely-more-than-just-friends category.
Naturally, Jack and eventually Kate began grilling you to ensure Sawyer wasn’t being weird, as they put it. To be honest, it was getting pretty annoying, and you told them time and time again that absolutely nothing was wrong. Sawyer was oddly respectful of you and your privacy if the situation warranted it. It made you feel safer than you had with anyone before the crash happened, and you pretty much just barely knew Sawyer. You would hope ignoring them would get either of them off your back, which only turned into Jack in particular, verbally attacking Sawyer any time he got, making sure you were safe. Eventually, you got so fed up you locked yourself in the hatch, which is how you found the alcohol and got yourself in this situation in the first place.
It’s not like you hadn’t had it before, being of age before the crash. It just wasn’t your preferred method of partying. A couple of swigs in after checking the time on the button at least five times, a hard pounding came from somewhere outside the hatch. Thinking it was either Jack or Kate, you shouted for them to “go the fuck away,” which the person responded with:
“Well damn, sweetheart, didn’t know you felt about me that way.”
Then you felt bad because you recognized the southern drawl of the voice, seemingly yelling at you to get the message to you. You set the bottle of nondescript alcohol down and scrambled to unlock the door.
There was another loud knock, to which you responded, “Relax, cowboy. Don’t let your horse get spooked.”
When you opened the door, you were unsurprisingly met with Sawyer’s smug expression and, thankfully, no one else. Not that your little act would have been foiled by Sawyer working with anyone else.
“Is the princess done being locked in her tower?” Sawyer asked, and you rolled your eyes.
“I’m not being locked in a tower if I did it voluntarily,” you shot back, and Sawyer stepped past you and walked into the hatch. Double-checking that no one else had followed him, you closed the door and debated about locking it again for a second. It would be stupid if your strike was suddenly broken into by the very people you were trying to prove a point to, so you locked it again.
You found Sawyer eyeing up the open bottle you had left on the counter. When your footsteps approached, he picked it up and gave it a little shake.
“What’s this?” Sawyer asked with one eyebrow raised.
“Dunno, I found it and figured I needed some way to pass the time,” you shrugged in response.
“You ever drink before this?” He countered.
“What, do you really think I’m that young?”
“Nah, but I reckon you were a good girl before this place.”
“That would make you 0 out of 2, cowboy.” You snatched the bottle out of his hand and took a larger sip than you would have liked. You choked momentarily, not really proving your point. You grimaced, and Sawyer chuckled.
“Yeah, a real natural, I see,” he slipped the bottle from your fingers and tasted it but made a face as the liquid slipped down his throat.
“What? Not your usual?” You said it with a smirk, and Sawyer side-eyed you before taking another.
“You push that button recently, princess?” he said instead of answering your obvious bait to get under his skin.
“Like half an hour or so,” you shrugged again, “I really wasn’t too concerned about it until you got here.”
“You think I’ll distract you or something? Because I think this,” he held up the bottle and waved it around again, “Just might be a bigger distraction. ‘Specially if you can’t hold your liquor.”
“You underestimate me, Sawyer; I’m hurt,” you said, clutching your heart dramatically.
“If I ever underestimate you, sister, I’m in for a world of trouble,” he responds, holding the bottle back to you.
You take it back and motion for him to follow you to the sorry excuse for a living room in this place. As you settled into the living area of the hatch, Sawyer plopped down on a rickety chair, and you found a spot on a worn-out couch. The dim light from the overhead bulb flickered, casting shadows that danced across the walls. You took another swig from the bottle, feeling a slight warmth spreading through your veins.
Sawyer observed you for a moment before speaking up. "You know, princess, locking yourself in here ain't gonna solve your problems."
You raised an eyebrow at him. "And what would you suggest, oh wise one? Last I heard, they were getting on your nerves too. It’s not like you to go around and give out advice."
He leaned back in his chair, a smirk playing on his lips. "Well, for starters, you could stop pretending like you got it all figured out. Ain't no shame in admitting you're struggling."
You scoffed, but a small part of you acknowledged the truth in his words. "Struggling to keep them off my back, that’s for sure. Otherwise, I’m perfectly capable of handling myself, despite what others seem to think."
He shrugged nonchalantly. "I've just been around the block a few more times than you, that's all."
“You’re not seriously trying to tell me to play nice with Jack of all people,” you laughed shortly, “I was thinking you were joining me for my little stakeout.”
Sawyer motioned for the bottle, and you handed it to him. He decisively took a sip, seemingly ignoring what you said. You studied him for a moment, the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled, the stubble peppering his jawline. Despite the gruff exterior, there was a vulnerability lurking beneath the surface.
As you sat in the dimly lit living area, Sawyer cleared his throat, breaking the heavy silence between you. He shifted in his chair, his expression taking on a more serious tone.
"You know, princess," he began, his voice softer than usual, "I ain't always been the most stand-up guy. Done my fair share of dirt in my time."
You looked at him, surprised by the sudden vulnerability in his confession. "I think we've all got a few skeletons in our closets," you replied, offering him a smallish, understanding smile.
Sawyer nodded, running a hand through his tousled hair. "Yeah, but some of mine... they weigh heavier than others. Things I ain't proud of, things I wish I could take back." There was a rawness to his words, a sincerity that made your heart ache for him. Despite his tough exterior, it was clear that Sawyer carried his own burdens and demons that haunted him in the darkness. "I guess what I'm trying to say is," he continued, his gaze meeting yours, "I ain't always been the best at opening up to people. But with you, it's different. I trust you, princess. And that ain't something I say lightly."
You felt a lump form in your throat at his words, touched by the depth of his confession. In that moment, you realized just how much Sawyer had come to mean to you, how his presence had become a source of strength and comfort in the midst of chaos.
"Thank you for trusting me, Sawyer," you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I'm glad we found each other in this mess." As Sawyer finished his heartfelt confession, a moment of hesitation lingered. Then, with a subtle shift in his expression, he seemed to gather his courage, his gaze meeting yours with a newfound intensity.
"And there's something else, princess," he began, his voice softer now, almost tentative. "Something I ain't sure how to say." Your heart skipped a beat at his words, a flicker of anticipation coursing through you. You held your breath, waiting for him to continue.
"Screw it," Sawyer muttered under his breath, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I reckon you oughta know... I like you. More than I probably should.” The confession hung in the air, its weight settling between you like a heavy fog. You felt your cheeks flush with warmth, your pulse quickening as you realized what Sawyer was saying.
"You do?" you whispered, your voice barely above a whisper, almost afraid to believe it was true. Sawyer nodded, his expression vulnerable yet determined. "Yeah. And I know it's probably crazy with everything happening around here. But damn it, I can't seem to shake the feeling."
A rush of emotion flooded through you, mingling with the warmth of the alcohol in your veins. Despite the chaos and uncertainty of your surroundings, there was a sense of clarity. With a seemingly new threat every single day and a jungle that was pretty much completely unexplored, this rocked your core deeper.
"I... I don't know what to say," you stammered, your heart pounding. Sawyer reached out, his hand finding yours. "You don't have to say anything, princess. I just needed you to know."
You felt a surge of emotion welling inside you, a mixture of fear and excitement, uncertainty and longing. But beneath it all was a flicker of hope, a spark of something new and unexpected blossoming between you and Sawyer. At that moment, as you sat together in the dimly lit living area of the hatch, surrounded by shadows and secrets, you knew that nothing would ever be the same again. And somehow, that thought didn't scare you as much as it should have. Because in Sawyer's eyes, you saw the reflection of your feelings mirrored back to you with a depth and intensity that took your breath away.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Please let me know if you'd like to be tagged for oneshots!
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
A/N: Okay, so this isn't any of the things I have promised in the past couple of days, but I am working on them!! I just needed a small break and made this :) I hope you can forgive me. Expect L-AS soon!
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
It’s hard to be liked. Something about it made your skin crawl whenever someone looked at you in a friendly way. You didn’t feel like you deserved it very much, especially by people who knew you the most. So when you crashed on a remote island with a whole plane full of strangers, it made you happy. Not the crashing part, and certainly not the stranded part where there was no hope to be rescued. That part gave you anxiety attacks nearly every night since the first when the whole group of you heard something that sounded very dangerous in the jungle.
Word got around that there was this crazy French chick living somewhere in the jungle that hadn’t been rescued for something like 16 years. That part made you feel even more uneasy about the people around you. Would you actually have to get to know them? How long until you were rescued, and then would have to go back to all the people who used to know you? Then you’d be in the spotlight, with people who know you and those who don’t. Surely, the world knew about your missing plane by now. It had been several weeks with no rescue or word of anyone anywhere knowing where you were.
So, you grit your teeth and try your best to converse with those who attempt to approach you. Which wasn't a lot of people, by the way. A few did, the doctor who was named Jack and the supposed leader of your little band of survivors. His “girlfriend,” Kate, who never seemed to want to stay on the beach for any extended amount of time. Well, really, she didn't want to be anywhere for very long. Which was pretty stupid, you thought, since you were all stranded here. She might as well make the most of it. This big guy named Hurley, who you actually thought was pretty okay and spent some time with him when you were off brooding alone on some far off portion of the beach. Lastly, the one person who didn’t seem to mind that you weren’t much for conversion was the self-named outcast of the Island, Sawyer.
You didn’t know very much about Sawyer, and you quite liked it that way. You did know that he was a hoarder and had a particular habit of calling everyone by various nicknames based on the way they looked, the things they did, or their ethnic background. The man was an enigma, wrapped in a southern drawl and a bad attitude. He had a knack for getting under everyone's skin, but somehow, he didn't bother you as much. Maybe it was because he didn't seem to expect anything from you. His nickname for you was Ghost, but you didn’t really care about that. However, it made a lot of sense. You moved through the group like a shadow, present but not really there, detached from the bonds forming among the other survivors.
You often “haunted” a spot on the beach that was a little rockier than where the rest of the camp was. It was closer to the jungle, too, so it was a good spot to not be bothered since most of the scaredy cats of the beach didn’t want to go anywhere near it. Those who remained on the beach after Jack took a group to the caves, anyway. The jungle seemed quieter today. The usual noise of birds and rustling leaves had died down to a gentle hum. You could almost convince yourself that it was peaceful if you didn't know better. Peaceful was the last thing this island was. At least you could deal with the background noise.
You sat on the edge of a rock overlooking the ocean. The waves crashed rhythmically against the shore, and you let yourself get lost in their repetitive motion for a moment. It was easier than thinking about the reality of your situation. Easier than acknowledging the gnawing fear in the pit of your stomach that you might never leave this place. The fear was always there, lurking just beneath the surface, but you had gotten good at pushing it down, focusing instead on the mundane tasks of survival. The panic attacks had subsided for the most part, and when they got bad, you had Jack to give you something for it. Even if it meant hauling yourself all the way to the caves in the middle of the night for a scolding and a pill.
As you sat there, lost in thought, you heard footsteps approaching. You didn't turn to look, already knowing who it was by the sound of his stride. Sawyer had a way of moving that was both lazy and deliberate as if he had all the time in the world but knew exactly where he was going.
"Hey, Ghost," he drawled, plopping down beside you on the rock. "You plannin' on hauntin' this spot all day, or you got somethin' better to do?"
You gave him a sidelong glance, not bothering to respond. He didn't seem to mind your silence. In fact, he seemed to prefer it. There was a mutual understanding between you two, a shared recognition that sometimes, words were unnecessary. But lately, your stomach did a little flip that made you actually want to say something, even if you really didn’t know what.
"Word's gettin' around about the French chick," he said after a moment, eyes scanning the horizon. "Sixteen years is a hell of a long time to be stuck here. Makes you wonder what she's been doin' all this time. How she's survived."
You nodded, the thought making your stomach twist. Sixteen years. Could you last that long? Would you want to? Hell, you were just beginning to forget that whole thing. At least until you heard chattering about Sayid all over again and what he heard out in the jungle with her. You really didn’t want to keep thinking about it, but it was continually thrown into your mind without your consent.
"Maybe she's got it figured out," Sawyer continued. "Maybe she's just as screwed up as the rest of us. Who knows?"
You turned to look at him then, seeing the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. It was rare to see him vulnerable, and it struck you that beneath all his pretension, he was just as scared as everyone else. Maybe more. It only made your affection for him make any sort of sense.
"Guess we'll find out eventually," you said, surprising yourself with the sound of your own voice. It was rough, unused to speaking. Sawyer glanced at you, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. He seemed to read your thoughts, and that idea made you sick.
"Guess we will, Ghost. Guess we will." Sawyer's presence was oddly comforting. The man was like a storm, loud and turbulent, but you’d learned that storms could also be strangely soothing in their predictability.
He always had something to say, some snarky comment or observation that cut through the oppressive silence of the island. The conversation dwindled, replaced by a comfortable silence. The waves continued their relentless assault on the shore, a reminder of nature's indifference. You let your eyes wander over the horizon, the vast expanse of water that both imprisoned and sustained you. Each wave felt like a promise and a threat, a dual reminder of hope and despair. A sudden rustling in the nearby jungle snapped you back to reality. Your heart rate spiked, your body tensing instinctively. Sensing your shift, Sawyer turned his head slightly but didn't rise from his spot.
"Relax," he said, his voice calm. "It's probably just a boar or somethin'."
You forced yourself to breathe, trying to quell the surge of panic. It was just the jungle, just another part of this bizarre and hostile environment. Nothing to be afraid of, at least not right now. The rustling ceased, and you willed your muscles to relax. Sawyer stretched out his legs, leaning back on his elbows, his casual demeanor a stark contrast to your unease.
"You ever think about what you'll do if we get off this rock?" he asked suddenly, his tone light but his eyes serious. The question caught you off guard. You hadn't allowed yourself to think that far ahead. The present was difficult enough without contemplating a future that seemed increasingly unlikely. Still, you pondered his question, letting it roll around in your mind.
"Not really," you admitted. "I guess I’d just go back to… whatever I was doing before."
Sawyer chuckled, a dry, humorless sound, "Yeah, that’s the trick, ain’t it? Going back. As if we could just pick up where we left off. Truth is, I don’t think any of us can go back to the way things were."
You considered his words. He was right, of course. The experience of being stranded on this island had changed you all in ways you couldn't fully understand yet. There was no going back, only forward, whatever that might mean. So you decided to respond, "And you?" you asked, more out of curiosity than politeness. "What would you do?"
He shrugged a nonchalant gesture that didn’t quite reach his eyes. "Guess I'd do what I do best. Find trouble, cause trouble, get out of trouble."
There was a glimmer of something in his expression—sadness, maybe, or resignation. It was hard to tell with Sawyer. He hid behind so many layers of sarcasm and whatever else seemed to always permeate his mood that it was difficult to see the real person underneath. You returned your gaze to the ocean, the waves continuing their ceaseless dance. The conversation, as brief and superficial as it had been, left you feeling a little more grounded. Maybe that was Sawyer's gift. He cut through the pretense and forced you to confront things you’d rather avoid.
"Thanks," you said quietly, not entirely sure what you were thanking him for. Sawyer glanced at you, a puzzled look crossing his face before he smirked.
"Don’t mention it, Ghost,” was all he said. The two of you sat in companionable silence, the sounds of the island filling the space between you.
It felt almost like you were back in the real world for a moment, just two people passing time together. It was a small comfort, but small comforts meant everything in a place like this. The two of you sat there for a while, watching the waves and listening to the distant calls of the jungle. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, a rare and precious thing. With Sawyer, you didn’t feel pressured to fill the void with meaningless chatter. He didn’t push you to talk, and you didn’t feel the need to pretend.
Eventually, he stood up and stretched, the sun casting long shadows on the sand. "Well, Ghost, I guess I’ll be headin' back to camp. See if I can stir up some trouble."
You nodded, remaining seated on the rock. "See you around, Sawyer."
He gave you a mock salute and sauntered off, leaving you alone with your thoughts once more. The peace he brought lingered even after he left, a small buffer against the overwhelming uncertainty of your situation. As the sun began to set, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, you took a deep breath and tried to hold onto the calm. The island was unpredictable, and peace was fleeting. But for now, you had a moment of quiet, a rare gift in this place of chaos and fear. The darkness encroached slowly, and you knew you’d have to head back to the camp eventually. The nights were the hardest when the sounds of the jungle grew louder and more menacing. But you felt a little stronger now, a little more capable of facing whatever the island threw at you next.
You stood up and made your way back, the path familiar under your feet. The camp was buzzing with activity, survivors preparing for the night. Jack was tending to someone near the fire. You thought it was interesting since his patients usually saw him in his cave office, not here on the beach. His brow furrowed in concentration. Kate was nearby, her restless energy evident even in her stillness. Hurley was talking animatedly with someone who you think is called Charlie and Sayid, of course. You knew him. Hurley’s laughter was a bright spot in the dimming light. All of their eyes reflected firelight as they watched Hurley tell what seemed to be a very entertaining story. As you approached, Hurley looked up and waved. You managed a small smile and waved back. Maybe, just maybe, you were starting to find your place here among these strangers who were becoming something like friends.
"Hey!" Hurley called out along with your name. It made you cringe slightly to hear anyone say your name with such affection. "You wanna join us for dinner? We managed to catch some fish."
You hesitated for a moment, the familiar discomfort rising. But then you remembered the peace of the afternoon, the sense of connection you’d felt with Sawyer. Maybe it was time to take a small step forward. "Sure," you said, walking over to join them. "Sounds good."
The night passed with stories and laughter, the fire casting warm light on the faces around you. For the first time since the crash, you felt a glimmer of hope, a sense that maybe, just maybe, you could belong here. The island was still a place of danger and uncertainty, but you were beginning to see that it was also a place where you could find strength and maybe even a sense of belonging. As you settled into your makeshift bed that night, you found that the anxiety that usually clawed at your mind was a little quieter. You closed your eyes and let the sound of the waves lull you to sleep, a small smile on your lips. The island had taken so much, but it had also given you something unexpected: a chance to rediscover yourself and find connections in the most unlikely places. And for now, that was enough.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Please let me know if you’d like to be tagged for oneshots!
