Summary: It is time for Max to renew his contract with RedBull. Because he doesn't want the team to take advantage of him, he hires one of the best lawyers out there. Miss Yn Yln.
The winter air in Milton Keynes had a sharp bite to it, the kind that stung the tip of Max’s nose as he stepped out of his car in front of the Red Bull headquarters. His beanie was pulled low, hands deep in his pockets, but nothing eased the tight knot in his stomach.
This wasn’t just another meeting.
This was the meeting.
A new contract was on the table—one he didn’t trust, not after the feeling of being pushed, cornered, and taken for granted the last season. He wasn’t stupid. He wasn’t going to sign anything blindly. And after the small storm of frustration that had been building inside him for months, he finally did something his team didn’t expect:
He hired his own lawyer.
The best lawyer.
Miss Yn Yln.
Max had never met her in person, but their phone call two days ago had left him blinking at his screen afterward, wondering how someone could sound both terrifying and comforting in the same breath.
“Don’t worry,” she had said, her voice smooth and steadier than his heartbeat.
“I don’t lose.”
And now, she was almost here.
His foot tapped anxiously on the pavement as he checked the time again.
10:02.
“They’ll complain about being late,” he muttered to himself, imagining the looks the management team would give.
But then—
A sleek black car rolled into the parking lot. Smooth, expensive, elegant. The sun caught the chrome, and Max’s breath hitched without warning.
The car door opened.
And out stepped Yn.
His brain short-circuited for a beat.
She was—
He didn’t even have a word for it. Beautiful didn’t do justice to the way she carried herself. The winter wind tugged at her coat, her heels clicked on the pavement with ruthless confidence, and her dark sunglasses made her look like she’d just stepped out of a legal thriller where she won every case by simply existing.
Max forgot how to breathe.
And then she removed her sunglasses.
Holy—
Her eyes met his, and the knot in his stomach untied itself in one smooth motion.
“Mr Verstappen?” she asked, her lips curling into a professional but warm smile.
He swallowed. Hard.
“Yeah. That’s, uh… me.”
God help him.
She offered her hand. “Nice to finally meet. Ready?”
“Yeah,” he repeated, but his brain added I think so? I hope so? I’m not sure anymore because you’re actually real and not a hallucination?
Her smile widened, as if she read the panic behind his eyes, but she said nothing. Instead, she fell into step beside him, walking toward the entrance like she owned the entire building.
Maybe she did.
Maybe she should.
Inside, the lobby was warm, bright, polished. Employees greeted Max with polite nods before giving confused double-takes at Yn—likely sensing immediately that she wasn’t someone you underestimated.
“So,” Yn said as they approached the elevator, “how bad do you think the contract is?”
Max pressed the elevator button. “Bad. Like… very bad.”
“I figured,” she said casually, stepping inside when the doors opened. “The tone of their email practically begged for intervention.”
“You can sense tone… through email?”
“I can sense incompetence in any medium.”
Max laughed under his breath.
God, she was dangerous.
They exited the elevator on the seventh floor where the contract meeting room was. Max heard voices inside—Laurent and a handful of executives.
Yn stopped in front of the door and looked at him.
“You ready?” she asked.
He nodded, but it came out weak.
She placed a hand on his arm.
“Max.”
He met her gaze again.
“I work for you. My job is to protect you. I take that seriously. You’re not alone in there.”
His heart did something new. Something stupid.
He hoped it didn’t show on his face.
“Okay,” he whispered.
Then Yn pushed the door open.
“Ah, Max,” Laurent said immediately. “Finally. We were expecting you five minutes ago.”
Max opened his mouth—
But Yn beat him to it.
“Yes,” she said, dropping her bag onto the table with a soft thud. “Apologies. I told him to wait downstairs because I needed to make a phone call with one of the teams interested in him.”
The room went still.
Laurent blinked. “Teams… interested?”
“Yes,” she replied dryly. “Are you surprised?”
Max had to bite back a smile. Hard.
She sat, legs crossed, posture perfect. Max sat next to her, feeling unexpectedly shielded by her presence.
Laurent cleared his throat. “Well… let’s begin.”
One of the executives slid a stack of papers toward Max.
“This is the updated contract for the next three years.”
Yn didn’t even wait for Max to touch it. She snatched the papers, began flipping through them rapidly, and scoffed three pages in.
“No,” she said.
Laurent stiffened. “Excuse me?”
“No,” she repeated, tapping the paragraph with her nail. The sound echoed through the room. “This clause gives the team full control over race strategy decisions without any right for Max to challenge or question them. Absolutely not.”
“Well—” Laurent began.
“You hired him for his talent,” she continued, her voice sharp, unbothered. “He’s not a puppet.”
Max blinked.
He had never seen someone talk to Red Bull like that. Ever.
Laurent forced a tight smile. “We can discuss adjustments, but—”
“No,” Yn said again, firmer this time. “We will remove it entirely.”
She flipped to the next page.
“And this one? A penalty fine if he speaks critically about the team during a season?”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Do you want him to lie in interviews? He speaks his mind. That’s why the fans trust him.”
“That is for PR purpo—”
“I’m not here to serve your PR. I’m here to serve Max.”
Laurent’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Miss…?”
“Yn,” she said. “Just Yn.”
“Well, Yn,” he tried, “you need to understand that we’re simply trying to protect the organization.”
“And I’m trying to protect my client. Who, by the way, has three teams interested in signing him the moment he becomes a free agent.”
Laurent froze. “Three?”
“Maybe four,” she said casually. “I stopped counting this morning.”
Max stared at her.
She wasn’t bluffing.
Or maybe she was.
Either way, it was hot.
She leaned back in her chair, folding her arms. “This contract is unacceptable. He needs freedom. Control. Respect. And a clear performance clause.”
“A… what clause?” one executive asked.
“A clause allowing him to leave,” Yn said, “if the team fails to perform for two consecutive seasons.”
The room exploded.
“That’s impossible.”
“No top team has that.”
“We can’t allow that kind of instability—”
Yn raised one hand, and the room fell silent as if she’d cast a spell.
“You need him,” she said. “He doesn’t need you.”
Max internally choked.
“Look,” Laurent said slowly, “we think we’ve been very generous—”
“No, you’ve been arrogant,” Yn cut in. “You expect him to sign anything just because it comes with your logo. But that’s not how this works. Not anymore.”
Max felt heat creeping up his neck. He wasn’t used to someone defending him like this. Not with so much fire. Not this fearlessly.
And then she turned to him.
“Mr Verstappen?”
He straightened. “Yeah?”
“Would you like to tell them what you think of the contract?”
Max opened his mouth.
But Yn touched his arm again, gently, grounding him.
“It’s okay,” she said softly.
So he let it out.
“I don’t feel valued,” he said bluntly. “Not by this contract. Not by how last season went. I don’t want to stay somewhere where I’m not trusted. And this—” he gestured toward the papers— “proves that.”
Laurent swallowed. Hard.
Yn nodded. “There. Heard from the source.”
Silence stretched.
An uncomfortable one.
Until Laurent exhaled through his nose.
“Fine,” he said. “We will… revisit the contract. Make adjustments.”
Yn leaned forward. “Good. We’ll schedule another meeting once you have a new draft. And make it quick. Other teams aren’t slow with their offers.”
Laurent’s jaw ticked. “We’ll be in touch.”
Yn stood immediately, grabbing her coat like a victorious queen.
“Pleasure,” she said, though her tone suggested the opposite.
Max followed her out of the room, still stunned.
The moment the elevator doors closed behind them, Max finally let out the breath he’d been holding for the past hour.
“Holy shit,” he muttered.
Yn adjusted her coat. “That bad?”
“No,” he said quickly. “I mean—no as in… you. You were incredible.”
Her lips curved slightly. “Thank you.”
“No, I mean it.” He stepped a little closer without meaning to. “You didn’t let them talk over you. You didn’t let them twist anything. You didn’t even let them breathe.”
“Breathing is optional for them,” she deadpanned.
Max laughed, a real one, loud and unrestrained.
God, she was lethal.
“I’ve never seen anyone talk to them like that,” he said. “Not even me.”
“That’s because it’s my job,” she replied calmly. “You drive cars at ridiculous speeds. I fight arrogant men in suits.”
He stared at her for a moment.
Her eyes.
Her confidence.
Her absolute command over any space she entered.
He felt something slip inside him, something he couldn’t grab back.
“You were amazing,” he said softly. “Seriously. I don’t think I’ve ever been more impressed in my life.”
Yn looked up at him—really looked.
Her gaze softened, but only slightly.
“That’s flattering,” she murmured. “But truly, Mr Verstappen… this is what I do. And I’m very good at it.”
He nodded, not trusting himself to say anything else.
The elevator dinged.
Before he could speak again, Yn stepped out.
“Call me when they send the new draft,” she said, walking backward for a few steps. “I’ll tear it apart before they try anything else.”
Max blinked. “Yeah. Of course.”
She smiled—small, confident, devastating.
“Good. See you soon.”
And with that, she turned and walked out of the building, her heels echoing against the floor, her aura filling the entire lobby like a storm he desperately wanted to chase.
Max stood there, frozen in place, the elevator doors closing behind him.
“Jesus Christ,” he whispered to himself.
Because he knew, with absolute clarity:
He was completely, irreversibly, helplessly done for.
I havent wrote in a while, but my obsession with arthur morgan has awoken something inside of me :) i hope everyone enjoys.
Content: MAJOR SPOILERS!!!!! RDR2 x Reader! MH!Arthur Morgan x Gunslinger!Reader! I really wanted this to feel like you were in the game, so Reader interacts with other characters a lot, not just Arthur. Reader has been with the group since she was 19, she is now 29 so she's been there a long time and has a pre-established relationship with the gang. Reader had a rough upbringing, her mother died when she was young and her father was a bad man, but it made her tough and very independent. She can hold her own. We need more Badass!Reader fics!!! Like I said, I want it to feel like you're part of the game, so I will be referencing some of the plots that happen in the game, obviously with added dialogue and other story lines to keep things interesting :) Im not sure if this is going to be considered a slow burn or not, I kinda just get in flow state when im writing but im guessing there will be at least 3 chapters before anything serious between Arthur and reader starts. This is 100% going to have smut eventually... maybe a lot of smut, im not sure yet, but it's probable. Those chapters will have the appropriate warnings incase anyone wants to skip that. There are no physical descriptions of reader, aside from having hair that can be combed- and I do state that she's wearing pants since she rides a horse but i don’t reference it much so if you prefer a skirt you imagine that shit bb 💅. This first chapter is mainly build up and explaining readers backstory, and some plot ofc. Thank you to anyone who reads this :)
Content Warnings: again, MAJOR GAME SPOILERS! lots of story build up, Readers upbringing (loss of a parent, mentions of abuse, arranged marriage, mentions of murder), Micah being a piece of shit, mentions of animal abuse (by Micah), Arthur and Reader are both oblivious (lol)
Word Count: 16k (oops)
The lack of warmth was the first sensation your body was able to register, shivering before you had the chance to open your eyes. Even under the layers of thick clothing and a few blankets, the icy air seemed to penetrate to the bone, your uncovered face especially vulnerable to the cold. Your eyes squeezed together tightly, attempting to fight off the white light that creeped through the cracks and windows of the warn down barn you currently resided in. Body still aching for rest and safety from the frigid temperatures that surrounded you, you tried your best to stay asleep, but any efforts of a few more mintues of shut eye were ripped away by the sound of the door swinging open, a loud creaking noise followed by urgent footsteps- and the once peaceful silence was interrupted.
“Ms. Jones! Ms. L/N! Does it bring you some sense of backwards pride to be the last ones awake in the camp?” The older womans voice seemed to boom from above, her complaints earning an immediate groan from your roommate, and a soft sigh from you.
“Mornin’ Mrs. Grimshaw,” You rub your eyes as you suddenly sit up from your small make shift cot on the ground, encouraging them to adjust to the brightness that flooded in through the open door. Your eyes flickered from her, arms crossed and looking down at you expectantly, to Karen, who still had yet to move a muscle despite Mrs. Grimshaws complaints. “Didnt realize what time it was… what time s’it anyways?” You question, eyes now adjusted to your surroundings showed that the glistening light pouring in still had a slight pinkness to it from the recent sunrise, it couldnt have been past 7am by any means.
“Its time to get up and get packing,” she began, slightly furrowing her eyebrows and looking down her nose at you, a look you had gotten used to from her over the years. It didnt seem to matter how much money you contributed to the camp or how helpful you tried to be, Ms. Grimshaw always had something to nitpick about. “Its finally time to get out of these god forsaken mountains, but it seems your slumber is more important than freezin’ t’ death.”
That statement alone sent a rush of excitement through your chest, any traces of sleepiness getting flushed out of your body. “Were leavin’ today?” Even with Susans aggressive delivery of the message, you couldnt help but to feel a bit giddy at the news. The group really hadnt been here that long, but between being broke as a joke, the lack of food, and the once seemingly-never ending snow storm, every second in the run down town you came to know as “Coulter”, felt hours longer.
“Yes, and if you dont hurry your sorry asses up, were leavin’ you girls here for the wolves!” Mrs. Grimshaw glared at you, then shifted her attention to Karen, who had still yet to turn over and acknowledge Susan, figuring her best interest was just to ignore the older woman. This causes Grimshaw to shake her head disapprovingly with a huff, continuing to shake her head and mumble about her disapproval as she turned around and marched toward the door “Now get up, n’ get goin’!” Was the last thing you heard before she walked out the door. It closed with a slam, and you allow yourself a moment to breathe in the frosty air, relishing in the thought about how soon the air you breathe will no longer numb your nose. You take another moment to stretch, rising your arms above your head only to remind you of your recent injury with a sharp pain from your left shoulder.
‘Oh yeah… forgot about that’
The gangs most recent ill-fated venture in Blackwater didnt leave you unscathed, receiving graze from a bullet as the group made a mad dash away from the scene of the crime. Luckily for you, the bullet went straight through, but still left a decent sized crater through the side of your upper left arm, which Abigail had so kindly stitched up. The extreme cold that surrounded you must have momentarily distracted you from the sharp pain of the wound. You shift slightly on your cot, gently tugging down your jacket you had slept in for a little extra warmth, and your shirt sleeve to reveal the bandages. Wincing as you peel them back, the crisp air makes you involuntarily shutter, countering the throbbing heat that radiates from your leison. A relieved sigh escapes you, seeing no sign of infection, just the normal swelling and a bit of clear serous drainage, your bodys attempt at keeping the wound safe and clean. It doesnt look too bad considering how rough it looked when you had first seen the skin all ripped and damaged. Abigail had done a good job doctoring it, and you figure here in another week or two it should be on track to heal up nicely. Your thoughts shift to how lucky you were to get away with this as your reminder of the endeavor, some of your group mates not near as lucky.
“Healin’ up alright, cowgirl?” Karens questioned ripped you from your previous reflections, voice still groggy with sleep, and you redirected your focus over to her. She had finally sat up as well, looking at you with a raised brow, her eyes shifting from your wound and back up to you.
“Ah, yeah, its nothin’, should be good as new here in a couple weeks” you shrug, carefully placing the bandage back over the damage and patting around it to ensure it stays in its place.
Karen chuckled a bit “Nothin?” She repeated, then gave a light sigh “Tough as ever, L/N” she shook her head, a light grin placed upon her features.
“Naw, not tough, just know it could’a been a lot worse” You explained, now pulling your sleeve and jacket back up, tugging it tightly around you to rewarm your once exposed skin. “I got lucky gettin’ away with just this as a reminder… well that and my now extreme lack of wealth.” You somewhat-joked, finally pushing yourself off your cot and standing at full attention.
Karen nodded at you “Youre tellin’ me, poor John seems to be cursed, first that nasty gunshot and then those wolves tryna’ finish ‘em off” exhaling, her tone quickly shifted from lighthearted to something a bit more worrisome. “Cant belive we lost davey…” she trailed off, eyes dropping to the ground in thought “and Mac… and Jenny… and Sean…” her worries tugged on your heart, the whole camp knew her and Sean were sweet on each other, hell, maybe even more than just ‘sweet’. You pitied her, knowing good and well how painful it is to have someone ripped from your life. You figured it was the unknowing that really did it for her, seeing as no one truly knew if Sean was alive or not.
“Come on now Karen, Seans tough, and no one saw him go down, we just know they took ‘em.” You tried to reassure her, taking a couple steps closer to her to kindly rub her back, hoping to bring some sense of optimism to the situation. “T’ be honest, hes probably yappin’ their ears off as we speak”
Your attempt seems to work and Karen glances up at you with a light smile, nodding as she speaks “He always was loud-mouthed.” She chuckles as she shakes her head
“Thats right. Aint the type to accept defeat either, you know he’d fight like hell to get his freedom back” You further confirm, patting her back one more time before you took a step back. “Now we’d better hurry n’ get out there before Grimshaw really does leave us for the wolves.” You watch as Karen rises from her spot on the ground, she pats her skirt a couple times to rid any dust that may have settled on her.
“Shit, think id prefer the wolves over Grimshaws constant naggin’,” she sighs as she bends down and begins to neatly fold up her blankets, trying to knock some of the dust off of them as well “She’d might be doin’ us a favor- I swear that woman hasnt been satisfied with anythin’ in her life… hope im not that grumpy when i reach the golden years, y’d think shed be in a better mood considering were finally gettin’ out of here”
You simply nod as you listen to Karen, also collecting your items and trying to condense everything into the smallest bundle you can manage. A few more words were exchanged between the two of you as you both packed up your things, mostly trying to guess where the group will end up next. The group hadnt been this far east im what felt like ages, you figured you were still in your early 20s the last time you were anywhere near here. ‘Anywhere’s gotta be better than this iced over hell.’
You secure the last of your things in the same small chest youve been using for years, made of beautiful polished cherry wood with engravings of different flowers and plants scattered all along it, and a tarnished brass buckle to lock it closed- right above the buckle sat your initials, hand carved by a younger version of you. It took you a couple of minutes to organize the small chest so it could be fully latched, you had honestly outgrown the chest about 4 years ago, having quite a few trinkets you had collected over the years, but you didnt have the heart to get rid of it.
Satisfied with your surprising ability to fit so much stuff in such a small amount of space, you walked over to the side table that sat against the entrance wall, swiping up your Cattleman Revolver as well as the spare ammunition scattered along the table. You place it in your hip holster with a nod, then grabbing your scarf, wrapping it tightly around your head and neck in attempts to keep any gusts of cold air from reaching your already-wind-burnt ears. You prepare yourself for more of Susans nagging as you walk over back to the chest, hoisting it up- once again reminding of your stitched would- and making your way to the door. Before stepping out, you turn back to Karen.
“Im gonna go ahead and make my way out”
“Alrighty, ill be out there in a minute” She responded as she grabbed up the last of her things. You acknowledge her words with a nod and face back to the door. Using your foot to push it open, you brace yourself for a strong gust of wind to hit your bare face, but are pleasantly surprised when all you receive is blinding glare from the sun bouncing off the snow, and a lingering frostiness to the air. It really was no colder outside than it was in the cabin now that the snow storm had passed, a calm breeze only floating by here and there.
The snow crunched under your boots with every step you took further into the open world, and despite your readiness to leave the frozen town, you couldnt deny the beauty that currently surrounded you. Trees lined with snow and ice seeming to sparkle as the sun rested upon them, every icicle reflecting the blue sky, water leisurely dripping down and hitting the snow with a light ‘pap’ noise. You supposed every place had its own type of beauty as you glanced around at the scenery, appreciating it for your final moments here.
You continued to walk closer to the group of wagons, just ahead of your temporary home the past few days, and as you neared you spotted Javier standing on the back of the wagon closest to you, grabbing a large box from Mr. Pearson and setting in along the bed of the wagon. Now only a couple feet away from the group, the two males attention adverted to you. “Mornin fella’s”
“Good morning Y/N, nice of you to finally join us” Javier spoke, looking down at you with a teasing expression.
A sigh escaped your lips and you shifted your eyes to avoid his, “i know Escuella, trust me i already heard it from Grimshaw,” sheepishly rocking back and forth on your heels, you glance back up at him. “Didnt realize we were heading out today, guess i shoulda’ figured.” You recall the events of the previous night, Dutch and a few other men in the group going to rob some train before the O’Driscolls could get to it. You reckon it went well, seeing as besides Susan, everyone else seemed to be in high spirits.
Javier grinned “Im messing with you- we had it under control. Havent been packing too long anyhow.”
His words made you feel a bit better. You never take Susans words to heart, most of the time they were simply petty complaints, but you always did your best to contribute and help around the camp, you would have felt bad if you walked out and everyone was already all packed up and waiting on you. You gave a soft smile and nodded up at him, “Good to hear, could ya’ grab this for me?” You gesture down to your chest, still tight in your grip “N’ ill go grab s’more stuff”
Javier squatted down and held out his arms for the chest, allowing you to lift it enough for him to get a steady hold on it. He removed it from your grasp and lugged it to the front on the wagon, placing it upon a bigger box tucked in the corner, then shifting a couple more boxes around for optimal storage space. Now that your hands were freed, you reached in your pockets and pulled out the leather, fleece lined gloves that once belonged to your mother. You cursed yourself a bit for not putting them on earlier, frost bite had already began to nip your finger tips in the couple minutes you had been outside. As you slipped them over your hands, you heard Pearson clear his throat,
“Theres a couple more boxes with cooking supplies sitting next to the barn, since youre feelin’ helpful,” he spoke gruffly, the lingering smell of his late night alcohol filling the air around him. You kept yourself from mentioning it, only giving a curt nod of your head and heading off in that direction, thanking Javier as you walked away. It only took a couple steps to notice the already stacked boxes lined up next to the barn, and a harsher gust of wind encouraged you to put a little pep in your step. Your eyes scan over them as you got closer, trying to decide which one to grab. You assume the biggest box had to be the cast iron pot, and that was to heavy to lift, by yourself anyways. So you end up settling for a medium sized box that was sitting atop another, bending slightly to stretch your arms around it. As you lift, you feel the skin around your wound stretch, shooting a sharp pain through your shoulder and making you wince. Nonetheless, You kept your hold on the box, trying to adjust it to a more comfortable position. It wasn’t genuinely too heavy for you to carry, just an awkward sized box to lug around, especially with your current injury. Still making an effort to relieve your shoulder, you hear a voice speak up from behind you.
“Ya got it?”
You glance over your left arm only to see Arthur Morgan, standing there with a cigarette placed between his lips, watching you finally settle into a some-what more comfortable situation. You let out a light laugh, a little embarrassed that he probably saw you struggling- with a box that wasnt even all that heavy at that. “Look like im strugglin’ or somethin’?” You raised an eyebrow, although you werent sure if you wanted him to answer that question honestly.
“A little bit,”
‘Ah yes, honest, per usual’
“Y’should probably be takin’ it easy on that shoulder on yours, aint gotta get the heavy ones” he continued, taking another hit of his cigarette before grabbing it between two fingers and flicking it off to the side. He started towards you and you shook your head at him, knowing he was going to offer to take it off your hands.
“Aint heavy, just a little awkward s’all” You defended yourself, not wanting to seem weak. You had been with this group since you were nineteen years old, everyone knew good and well you werent weak, you hardly ever seriously asked for help and you were one hell of a force to be reckoned with once you got your mind on something- the group was well aware. A part of you knew this, but your path through life shapes you- the beginning path of your life was rough, and it shaped you into someone to had to be self reliant. You learned early in life that people prey on those they find weaker than themselves, and you had made a vow to never let yourself be too vulnerable. Even in unimportant situations such as the one your were currently in, that commitment ran deep. “I got it under control.”
He continued to make his way closer to you “‘m sure you do” he says incrediously, now standing right next to you. His tone earns him a glare from you, and despite that he grabs the box from your hold with ease. Arthur brings his attention from the box down to you, watching as you cross your arms over your chest and huff lightly, your warm breath creating a fog in the freezing temperatures.
“I said i had it Arthur”
“N’ I agreed witchu’, seen ya’ lift a box before, you aint gotta prove nothin’.”
You kiss your teeth at his words, “Aint tryin’ to prove nothin’ to nobody, just doin’ my part around camp s’all” Uncrossing your arms, you dropped them to rest on your hips and continued on, “just cause i got a little gun shot wound dont mean I cant work”
“I know i know… just think, what kinda’ man would i be if i just sat and watched an injured woman struggle”
You winced at the word ‘struggled’, you werent sure if he was trying to tease you by saying that but it sure felt like it. You internally damned the Lawman who shot you, blaming him and his bullet for having to deal with this. Arthur Morgan was just like you in a way, as in once he got his mind on something he was going to accomplish it one way or another, and you knew good and well he wasnt going to be handing you that box back anytime soon. And besides, it was a kind gesture, you just hated that it came from a place of pity. You sigh “not sure, you should ask Pearson, hes the one who suggested it”
Arthur scoffs “Pearsons ‘bout much of a man as a cactus is a kitten, how bout you grab that box of utensils instead?”
His words earn a chuckle from you, finally accepting defeat of carrying the box. “I reckon you got a point there,” Taking a couple steps to grab the smaller box of cooking utensils, it definitely was a lot more manageable to carry, you lifted it without issue, trying to put your pride aside. Arthur wasnt wrong about taking it easy on your shoulder, last thing you needed was for your stitches to rip and cause more damage, though it was debatable for you if it was more important than your ego. You turn back to face him, yes you may of had a bit of an ego, but you werent so arrogant as to not give some form of thanks for Arthurs help. “Appreciate you helpin’ me”
“Ah, dont mention it” he simply shrugged “C’mon.” He gestured his head towards the wagons and you nod at him, watching as he takes a stride off. You have to take a couple quicker steps to catch up to him, now walking directly beside him. He continues to walk at a leisurely pace as he speaks “Aint seen too much of you the past couple months” Arthur glances over at you for a moment, eyes scanning over your features quickly before he looks back to his surroundings. “N’ when i did we were usually busy shootin’”
You keep your eyes in front of you but your eyebrows slightly quirk up in response to what he said, somewhat surprised. Out of the whole group, you didnt expect Arthur to mention it, considering how busy he always seemed to be. You voice this with a quick “Didnt think anyone noticed.”
“Course people noticed”
You couldnt lie, it felt nice to know that your recent absences from camp didnt go unnoticed. You werent doing it on purpose by any means, just had to get away sometimes. You loved your group, and youd die to protect it, but a certain new comer had put a sour taste in your mouth, and though you werent shy to say what was on your mind, sometimes you thought it was best to just be quiet and put some space between you and the… issue for a while- for the sake of peace at the camp.
“There a reason why?” Arthur looks at you again, but this time his focus remains on you while he walks, trying to read any expression you might make. He had known you long enough to know that if something was wrong, you usually kept it to yourself, and most of the time it took some prying to even get it out of you. You must have felt his gaze, because you look over and lock eyes with his for a quick second, sighing then looking away.
Not having had any chance to really voice your opinion about the recent addition to the group, you give in to his question easily. “Well… just aint exactly fond of one of the new men around camp”
It was extremely easy for Arthur to guess who you could be talking about, there were only two new men in camp, Charles and Micah- and he knew good and well it wasnt Charles who had worked his way on to your nerves. He wasnt exactly a fan of Micah either, but of course, he trusted Dutch, and for some a reason Arthur couldnt possible comprehend, Dutch had taking quite a liking to the blonde man. Arthur nodded, “Hm, Micah huh?” He looked back towards the wagon “He been botherin’ you again or somethin’?” A somewhat protective tone lacing into his voice. Arthur could recall when Micah had only been in the group a couple weeks before one night he tried to make advances on you, only to get a response of “and just who the hell are you?” But of course, if there was one thing Micah was, it was an instigator- so he continued on to say lewd, disrespectful things. Arthur also recalled you putting him at knifepoint before anyone could even think of intervening, threatening him within an inch of his life to “keep it up”
“Aint he always botherin everyone?” You roll your eyes at the thought of Micah, though he hadnt really done anything to you recently, you had definitely seen him bothering other members (particularly the women) of the group, and you just straight up didnt trust the man. Thinking of this, you voice it to Arthur “Guess he aint done anything of late, to me at least. Bein’ an asshole dont help his case but i dont know… he just rubs me the wrong way, i dont trust ‘em one bit. Feels like hes always up to no good.” You glare in no particular direction as you speak “i saw him kick a bunny one time, a baby one too, had just hopped right infront of him- guess it hadnt quite learned to be timid yet. N’ the bastard just reeled back n’ kicked the poor lil’ thing… had the audacity to chuckle afterwards too while it was squirmin on the ground” venom fills your voice as you remember. You had been hunting animals for years, but to blatantly abuse an animal- a baby at that- was something entirely different, and witnessing him do that further confirmed that Micah Bell was one twisted bastard.
Arthur furrowed his eyebrows at your story and shook his head in a disappointed manner. “Yeah, i aint exactly a fan of his presence neither. But you been part of this group for a helluva’ lot longer than he has, shouldnt let ‘im run you outta’ camp”
You nod, honestly you somewhat agree, but the other part of you just couldnt stand the man’s presence. “I know. Its not like im scared of him, its just that-”
“Ah i know you aint scared of ‘em” Arthur smiled lightly “well you just let me know if he does start up botherin’ you again, n’ i’ll rough ‘em up a little” Arthur made no effort to hide how he felt about Micah, often antagonizing the man when he saw him around camp, which has ended with fists swinging a couple times. Micah got on his nerves just as much as he did yours, but Arthur had to admit, Micah was a handy gunslinger, and he assumed that was the main reason Dutch kept him around. Didnt change the fact that he was reckless and rude.
You cant help but smile at Arthur “I appreciate the offer but if he starts botherin’ me again ill kill ‘em myself” you (half) joke, and arthur grins.
“Fine by me”
By this time you and Arthur had finally reached the wagons, and you stand there patiently as you watch Arthur place the box on the wagon without issue, turning to you and reaching out for the box in your arms as well. As you hand your crate over to him you hear a voice from a couple wagons up.
“Please Mister, let me go! I wont say a thing to no one, i swear it!”
Once Arthur removes the box from your arms, you lean to peak past the covered wagon, noticing a man with black hair and a beard being shoved along by Bill, gun pointing directly to the mans back. You raise an eyebrow and peer back at Arthur, you dont even have to ask ‘who the hell is that’, its written on your face plenty.
Arthur huffs, “An O’Driscoll” he states simply, crossing his arms over his chest for a little extra warmth, observing as you peak your head past the wagon once again to get a second look. “Picked ‘em up the other day after we got a jump on that O’Driscoll camp. Dutch thinks he could be of some use.” He further explained, walking to stand behind you and also peer his head around the wagon, watching as Bill basically threw him into one of the wagons up front.
“Noisy thing aint he?” You dont shift your attention from the man, still pleading for his freedom with promises and swears and anything else he can think of. Your interest in the situation is interrupted by Arthur switching the subject, and you turn your gaze to him at he speaks
“What i was sayin’ earlier, about not lettin’ Micah run you outta camp, im serious. Gotta lot of foes right now out t’ get us- Pinkertons, Bounty Hunters, and all these damn O’Driscolls lurkin’ about. Y’should stay closer to camp for a while.” He voices his concern, but down plays it a bit by adding “we might just end up needin’ your expertise in gunslingin’” with a laugh.
As you look up at him you smile, you knew he meant it in a somewhat teasing manner, but you still took it seriously, you might not have been the best gunslinger in existence, but you could sure as hell hold your own. Before joining the group, you had never even held a gun, but Hosea and Dutch were quick to teach you. And now, after many years and plenty of practice, you could keep up with most of the men. “I should be the one tellin’ you that, youre out n’ about just as much as i am. And i can guarantee youre more of a troublemaker” you say matter of fact-ly.
“Heh, cant argue that” Arthur shrugs, and when he hears a door slam to the left of him, he looks past you to see Dutch walking out of the cabin with purpose, making his way over to the rest of the group. “Alright cowgirl, I’ll see ya’ around, gotta have a word with Dutch” he nods a goodbye to you, and you nod back at him.
“Stay safe Arthur” hes already walking away as you speak, responding with a quick “you too, Ms. L/N” over his shoulder. Crossing your arms over your chest, you look around to find something else you can help with. Your eyes scan along the wagons, watching as other people in your group continue loading them up, then drift along the small cabins in the town. Your eyes pause when you spot Mrs. Adler standing by her lonesome under an awning, dressed in some clothes that you and Tilly had given her. You felt awful for her, even with how far away you were from her, you could see the swelling around her eyes from long nights of no sleep and constant tears. She didnt look well- Hell no one in her situation would. So you take it upon yourself to walk over to her before you do anything else, giving her a soft smile as you get closer.
“Good morning Mrs. Adler”
She simply nods a hello in your direction, her gaze only resting on you for a moment before she looks back down at the ground, clearly lost in thought. You could only imagine what all was going through her head, losing her husband, losing her home, and being taken in by a group out outlaws all in a week. Thinking of her situation is a sure reminder of how quickly anyones life can change, and how you never really know how anything is going to play out. Even with her quiet response, making you assume she probably didnt want to be bothered, you pushed a bit more “Have you eaten anything?” You ask softly, although you were sure her answer was probably going to be a ‘no’.
Your assumption was confirmed as Ms. Adler shakes her head, “just… aint been all that hungry” she explains. You nod, you understood that, but you also knew she desperately needed to eat- despite her nerves, you knew her body had to be craving sustenance, you hadnt seen her take a bite of anything since she had been here. And you werent going to voice it, but the last thing the camp needed right now was someone passing out from low blood sugar. So whilst you dig in your side bag for some jerky you had acquired, you speak to her.
“I know food probably dont sound all that appetizing right now, but you really should eat somethin’- starvin’ will just make you feel worse” You use the softest tone you can muster as you speak, holding the jerky out in front of her, hoping she will reach out for it. “Its real good, i got it back in this small little town out west- feller i bought it from went on and on about how he used these rare spices from other countries to give it a taste no one else ‘round here could copy.” It was true, definitely one of the best tasting jerkies you had ever tried, you had been trying to make it last as long as possible seeing as you werent quite sure when youd be able to get more of it- but you figured Ms. Adler would benefit off of it more than you would right now.
Even with the unsure look on Mrs. Adlers face, she reached out and politely took it from you. Your talk of rare spices must have peaked her interest a little bit, and you watched as she brought the jerky close to her nose and gave it a sniff, causing her empty stomach to rumble immediately. “It does smell good… thank you.” But, to your disappointment she still didnt take a bite, only shoving it into the small crossbody bag another woman of camp had let her borrow. You dont mention it.
“Alright, well you just let me know if you need anythin’ at all, ill do my best to help” and with that you turn on your heels to go find something else to do, but Mrs. Adler stops you in your tracks.
“Well, i do have a question actually”
You turn once again to face her, you dont say anything, just wait for her to continue.
“That other group- the O’Driscolls… the ones who killed my husband…” you could see something shift behind her eyes, something between sadness and rage, and you knew that look all to well. The look of wanted retribution. The look of a woman who sought revenge. “Y’all run into them often?”
You answer honestly “Well, for a while we aint seen too many of ‘em, but we were farther out. Seems theres a lot more of ‘em ‘round these parts” you place your hands in your jacket pockets.
She thinks for a moment before speaking again, “What happened between yall?” Mrs. Adler was genuinely curious about the feud, no matter what your response was she would still hate them til the day she died for what they did to her Jake, she figured if anything itd just give her more of a reason to despise them. And your response only confirmed that theory.
Before you answer her you look around, not 100% sure of telling this woman who you didnt know would stick around or not what had happened. But you figure telling her a little wouldnt hurt anything, especially since her husband died at the hands of the O’Driscoll group. “It was a while ago, been fightin’ ‘em for years cause Colm O’Driscoll- their ‘leader’- killed Dutch’s woman, Annabelle. But honestly, they never got along much, we werent ever exactly friendly with them… Nasty sons of bitches…” you leave out the part where Dutch killer Colms brother, not wanting to incriminate him, just in case. “What they did to you and your husband, theyd do to anybody. I aint gonna lie ma’am, our group, aint exactly… compliant with the new ways of the world, but we still got morals- well, more than the O'Driscolls anyways”
Mrs. Adler nods, taking in the new information for a moment. “You been with them for a long time?”
“Since i was a teenager. They took me in when i had nowhere else to go. Sure as hell saved my life and kept the noose off my neck.” You recall when the group had found you, somehow both one of the worst and one of the finest moments of your life, considering that was the night you were truly freed from the hell you once lived in- even if it came with a cost. You could see the cogs turning in Mrs. Adlers mind, and you could easily tell that she was considering sticking around. You give her a light smile “You can stay as long as youd like, im sure everyone else in the camp would agree to it, Its up to you. We may bicker a lot, but at the end of the day were family. And besides, im sure you can hold your own, i saw you standing up to Micah that night.” You had been there when the group found Mrs. Adler, and of course Micah had to act a complete fool towards her. You wince as you remember “‘M sorry about that, by the way, Mrs. Adler. Hes a goddamn idiot, just try to steer clear of him.”
She huffs out a “you dont have to tell me twice.” But then looks at you, eyes a bit softened compared to before “Thank you, for bein’ so kind. And you can call me Sadie.”
Gaining a bit of her trust made you happy- Sadie looked about your age, and although you loved all of the other women in the camp (even Mrs. Grimshaw, despite her nagging) you thought you and Sadie might have more in common, and itd be nice to have another woman your age in camp. “Of course” you begin “Like i said, just let me know if you need somethin’. Im gonna go help finish packin’ up” you give her a small wave and smile “Ill see ya’ around.” She gives a light wave back, so you turn your focus back to the wagons, and start making your way there. You notice the group had been stacking boxes right next to them, and you give yourself the task of grabbing up the boxes and totes (the ones that wouldnt strain your shoulder at least) and handing them up to Charles, who was already standing in one of the covered wagons. You hadnt spoke to Charles much, he had been here around the same time as Micah and like stated previously, you had spent less and less time near the camp since then. But as far as you could tell, he seemed like a decent man. As you handed up boxes, the two of you made friendly small talk, and before you knew it, it was time to get going.
-
You had decided on riding your horse instead of the wagons to your groups next destination- a beautiful silvery-white Missouri Fox Trotter, whos legs and face slowly faded into a darker shade of grey. You had named her Lux- short for luxury, a small inside joke based off of her being the most ‘luxurious’ thing in your life- you had paid a pretty penny for her from a stable out west. And youd happily pay that money for her all over again, she was a damn good horse, by far the fastest you had ever owned, and durable as hell.
Halfway through the ride you had to rid yourself of your jacket, it was incredible how quickly it seemed to warm up as you made your way down the mountain, green patches of grass turned to plains before your eyes, and the world seemed to become more alive- groups of deer and bunnies scurrying away at the sound of horse clatter. You had went ahead with the group to a small clearing called Horseshoe Overlook, and you had to say, it was a huge upgrade compared to where you had just came from.
With everyone pitching in, It took no time for the camp to be set up. You had pitched your tent towards the edge of the camp, a nice spot where a tree had provided the perfect amount of shade from the sun, a little bit farther back from where you had seen Mrs. Grimshaw and Mary-Beth Setting up someone elses camp. Finally setting your cot up, you try to make it as cozy as possible, but even the fact that you had your own tent again satisfied you enough. You didnt mind having karen as your roommate, but everyone needed their space sometimes, and you had gotten used to rooming by yourself overtime. As soon as you were finished, you fell back onto your cot with a pleased sigh, relishing in how good it felt to have a bed off the ground, and how pleasant the sun pouring through the opening of your tent felt on your skin. This was the most relaxed you had felt in days, even though you knew the group had quite a bit to worry about still, it was nice to just live in the serenity of the new camp for a few minutes.
You had been lying there for a moment when you heard another horse-led wagon pull into the camp, followed by Dutches voice calling out to Hosea. This intrigued you enough for you to rise from your oh-so comfortable spot , quickly place your hat upon your head, and take a couple strides closer to listen in, hoping to gain some valuable info on what was going on, or what was soon to be going on. You stay a couple feet away as you tune in to Hosea voicing his concerns to Dutch, Arthur trailing behind the older man- all completely valid concerns in your opinion, but of course he only got the typical response from Dutch about how the group has made it this far, and how Dutch has “kept us together” and “kept us alive” which wasnt entirely false either. You continue to keep to yourself as you watch the men converse, arms crossed and leaning against one of the barrels placed throughout camp, you tilt your head down a bit, using your hat to shade your eyes from the beaming sun. The men seem to finish up their conversation and Dutch turns around to face the camp.
“Now, everyone put your tools down for a moment. Come on gather around, quickly now,” He spoke loudly enough for anyone around camp to hear, so you take a couple steps towards him alongside your other camp members, everyone listening closely to what Dutch had to say. “I know that things have been tough… but we are safe, now, and we are far too poor. So it is time for everyone to get to work!”
Hosea quickly chimes in, bouncing off of Dutch’s statement,“Get to work, but stay out of trouble. Remember, we are itinerant workers.”
“Laid off when they shut down our factory to the north. Now get out there and see what you can find! Uncle, Reverend Swanson… no more passengers.” Dutch finished for Hosea, and the group laughs at his pester. “It is time for everyone to earn their keep!”
Nodding, Hosea continues on “There is a town a little way down the track, name of Valentine, live stock town. All mud and morons if i remember right. That seems a decent place to start.”
Valentine. You had heard of it before, years ago, but you werent quite sure you had ever actually stepped foot in the town. Live stock towns all seemed to be the same to you, Hoseas description of “mud and morons” was spot on for most of the ones you had the pleasure of visiting. Even if they werent the most dazzling towns, they sure were any easy target for robbing fools- especially when youre just passing through. Most of the smaller livestock towns only had a little team of lawmen, and you could only recall a few times where there was a genuine consequence to some of your actions in the small rural communities. You turn your head to Mr. Pearson as you hear him clear his throat to gain peoples attention.
“And… we need food, real food… that means everyday, one of you.” He glances around from person to person as he speaks.
Dutch chimes in once again, grabbing a small lock box from his tent and setting it on a nearby barrel, “And remember, whatever it is that you find, the camp gets its slice.” He points down at the lock box as he speaks, stressing the importance of everyone contributing something, whether it be money, valuables, or food. “Now, be sensible out there.” Is the last thing he says as everyone nods in agreement to Dutches conditions, then disperses once again, getting back to whatever job they were once working at. Your eyes shift around camp as you notice Mrs. Grimshaw leading Arthur ahead to his camp, which you then realize is the one you had sat your camp close to earlier. You reckon Arthur was as good a neighbor to have as any, further satisfied with where you had decided on putting your camp. Pushing yourself off the barrel to stand up fully, you decide to get yourself busy with something.
A few weeks later…
You had awakened with the sun on that early morning, a slow yawn accompanied with a deep stretch- your shoulder had began healing up nicely. You had taken the stitches out yourself a couple days ago, and although it was still tender it felt good to stretch fully without as much strain. You still had to be a little careful with the scab, every now and then youd go a little too hard and it would spilt open, spotting your top with crimson, but nonetheless it was much less of a hassle than before. You roll onto your back and rub your face, trying to massage any bit of sleepiness out and helping your eyes adjust to the soft lighting around you. Unhurriedly rising from cot, you get ready for the day ahead of you, taking your time as it was still quite early in the morning. You decide on a short sleeved shirt today, even though a bit of the coolness from nighttime still lingered in the air, it was surprisingly warm, and you know as the sun rises it will continue to heat up. You pair the short sleeved button up with a vest and jeans, finishing your look with your favorite hat and boots. You didnt put a ton of effort into your outfits, but you still liked to look nice, always making sure the colors complimented each other at least. You buckle your hip hostler around your waist, grab your bag, and out into the world you went.
The camp is already lively, aside from a couple people still trying to sleep in, and the air around the camp feels refreshing. Everyone has gotten comfortable in the newfound home, and things have ran pretty smooth the past couple weeks, money was slowly but surely coming into camp, and sometimes you were even able to forget that your beloved group was currently on the run. You notice Arthur and Hosea speaking ahead of you, but it seems you had just caught the end of their conversation, watching Hosea walk away talking about a book he was planning to read. You still take a couple of steps to Arthurs tent, eyes on him as he finishes the last drink of his coffee and turns to grab one of his guns, not quite noticing you yet. You speak up to grab his attention, “Mornin Arthur”
Hearing your voice, he holsters his gun and faces you, “Morning, Ms. L/N, you doin’ alright today?” Arthur reaches into his satchel and grabs a couple cigarettes, handing one out to you, his way of inviting you to chat for a moment. Growing up around everyone smoking had inevitably led you to doing the same, and now it was a habit that you didnt quite plan on breaking anytime soon.
You smile and grab the cigarette from between his fingers happily, “Im doing just fine, feels nice outside today… and you?” You pull the cigarette up to your lips and watch as Arthur grabs a match, using the bottom of his boot to light it, holding his other hand around the small flame to keep the breeze off of it. In true Arthur fashion, he brings it to your cigarette first, allowing you to lean in and take a deep drag in, encouraging it to light. Taking a few more puffs to ensure it was fully lit, you pull away, nodding him a thank you before he pulls it back to himself to copy you.
After he takes a drag, he responds “‘M good, about to head out to Valentine, Hosea said Javier and some of the other men were already there, figure its worth seein’ trouble theyre gettin’ themselves into.” He takes another drag of his smoke and looks down at you, arguably watching a little too close as you mimic his movements, taking a slow pull from your cigarette. His eyes glance back up to yours.
“Say, theres a stable in Valentine aint there? Ive been needin’ to get Lux some more treats, y’ mind if i come along?” Just like her name, your horses taste in treats were luxurious as well, making it no secret that she preferred fresh fruits over oatcakes and herbs, though you cant say you blame her. But because of this, you always tried to keep a few fruits around for her, and honestly over the past few weeks fresh fruit wasnt exactly widely available, so it had been a minute since she had her favorite snack. You figure it was about time you ride into town and get her some, your girl deserved it.
Arthur nodded “Course ya’ can, just remember, were lyin’ low right now” he pesters you, causing you to roll your eyes playfully and sigh.
“Fine, ill be on my best behavior.” You promise, going along with his teasing. “But only ‘cause you were kind enough to share a smoke with me.” You take a final drag of your cigarette, tossing it on the ground and stepping on it to ensure it was out.
Arthur does the same with his, and gestures his arm out in an “after you” manner, following behind you as you begin to walk to the horses. “If i woulda’ know i could buy your patience with tobacco, id’ve done it long before now.” He states, a pleased smile on his face. Banter like this was common between you and Arthur, hell the whole camp was always teasing and pestering each other- especially the ones that had been around for a long time.
Arthur was looking forward to going on a ride with you- it had been at least a 4 or 5 months since the last ride between just the two of you. He always enjoyed the conversations you guys had- feeling you often had a good insight or opinion on what was going on around camp. He figured it was some kind of womanly-intuition that he would never quite fully understand, though sometimes it was a little eerie how spot on you were with things.
“Im a simple woman Arthur Morgan” You say with a shrug, not bothering to look back at him. Sure you were.
Arthur chuckles a bit and shakes his head, and as the pair of you near your horses, you split for a moment to go saddle up. But of course, you cant go anywhere without setting a moment aside to appreciate your loyal mare. You grin as you walk up to her, “Theres my giiirl” you draw out, reaching out to pat her a couple of times. Lux responds with a satisfied snort, making you laugh a bit. You peck her on the cheek before moving back to place a couple items in your saddle bag, also ensuring you had anything you may need on your journey. Once you confirm this, you slip your boot through stirrup and hoist yourself up, tossing your leg over and centering yourself. You adjust a bit to get comfortable, and glance over to Arthur, only to see him waiting patiently, eyes already on you.
You pretend that noticing him watching you doesnt cause you to clam up a bit, and you try to hide it further with a cocky “Well whatchu’ waitin’ on? Lets go” and you ignore the bit of irony in your statement, obviously he was waiting on you. You had always thought Arthur was an attractive man, in fact, though he was a bit intimidating the first time you met him, you had a small crush on him when you first joined the group. You never really acted on it anyways, but once you found out about Mary it killed any dream of something more- you werent no home wrecker, and you werent going to lust over a man whos heart belonged to someone else. So, instead you got to know Arthur over the years as a good, loyal friend, and you were perfectly satisfied with that. There were a couple months a few years after Mary had gotten married where Arthursy have arguably been a little more than friendly, but you honestly didnt read into it all that much seeing as for the most part he was a gentleman towards most the women in the group.
It was quiet on the first couple minutes of the ride, a comfortable silence allowing you to enjoy the sounds of nature around you. Birds chirped from above, and the tree branches rustles from a squirrel jumping from limb to limb. Somewhere off in the distance you could hear an owl, and the nostalgic sound brought you back to your childhood home for a moment. You close your eyes just for a second to take it all in with a deep breath, exhaling with a sigh.
“Whatchu’ think of the new camp?”
Arthurs words pull you from your thoughts, but you dont answer right away- fully thinking through your feelings. “Its alright so far, obviously much better than Colter. Know we aint stayin’ here forever though- we really stirred the pot back there in Blackwater. I figure we still got a lot more runnin’ to do.” You look over your shoulder to him, “Were real far east. I aint heard of Valentine since… my father was alive” Your eyes shift as you mention your father. Thinking of him was never a pleasant experience for you, from the day you were born til the day you killed him he was a mean old bastard, and you didnt have much regret in ending his life.
Arthur hums in agreement, and he must notice the cogs turning behind your eyes because he, blunt as ever, continues with his questions. “You aint never talked much ‘bout your Pa- i mean, i know you put the old bastard outta’ his misery, but all these years and you aint ever said why.”
“Reckon i didnt think it mattered all that much” You state simply, your eyes now glued to the path in front of you. Thinking back on it, the only person in the camp you had ever told the full story to was Hosea, the night he had found you, walking aimlessly around in a blood soaked nightgown. You had sobbed to him, explaining everything that had happened- and instead of calling you crazy and turning you into the law, he simply listened and wrapped his jacket around you. Took you back to the camp and introduced you to everyone, saying youd be sticking around for a while. It surprised you that Hosea never fully told anyone what had transpired that night, but at the same time it made you feel like you could trust the older man even more. You considered him more of a father than your real dad was. “I mean, ive been in this group for 10 years and yer’ just now askin’ me- m’ shocked Hosea didnt tell you” you somewhat laugh as you speak.
“All Hosea ever said was that you killed ‘em, and that the lowlife deserved it, didnt get into the details” Arthur explained, eyes occasionally switching from the path to you. “Guess it aint really none of my business, but cant say ive never wondered”
“Well i never intended for it to be a secret or nothin’, if you wanted to know you coulda’ just asked me.” You try to stay light hearted about it- again your pride forcing you to act like nothing bothered you, like it wasnt extremely traumatic and the most painful moment in your life. “Whatchu’ wana know?”
Arthur answered “What drove you to killin’ ‘em, i guess”
“He- uhm-“ you try to speak and immediately fumble over your words, internally cursing yourself. This was already proving to be harder than you thought it would be- you hadnt talked about it in so long. So you clear your throat, slightly embarrassed, and collect your thoughts, fiddling with the reins in your grip. You take a deep breath and try again, “Well, he was always a mean man. Dont think i have a single memory where he was nice to me, and as i got older it just got worse. He’d come home and beat me for no good reason- just cause he had a bad day i suppose.” You could feel Arthurs eyes on you, but you refused to meet his. “Soon as i turned 18, he started tryin’ to sell me off for marriage- i was ecstatic, thought gettin’ married was my ticket out of that hell.” You recall the memories as you speak, all of them flashing through your head like a slideshow. In a weird way, saying it out loud felt unreal, like it was hard for your brain to accept that the words coming from your mouth described what used to be your life. It had been so long ago now, and you had separated yourself from it so much that it almost felt like an alternate universe or a bad dream. “But boy was i mistaken- That boy was just as mean as my Pa was, we had only been married ‘bout 2 weeks, n’ he came home one night, madder than a bull” your body involuntarily shudders, and you hope it goes unnoticed. “He was gonna kill me. Aint a doubt in my mind about it. But for the first time in my life i fought back- it was like somethin’ took over my body. Guess all those years of gettin’ beat on finally sent me over the edge- and… i killed him.”
You finally bring yourself to look over to Arthur, who had a somewhat surprised expression on his face. Not that this story changed his mind at all, but he always saw you as such a strong, independent woman- it was hard to imagine anyone taking advantage of you. Besides, Hosea had never mentioned that you killed your husband, or that you even had one in the first place. Different emotions flooded through his head as he took in the new information about your life, and he wasnt quite sure what to say yet, so he stayed silent, letting you continue on with your story.
“I didnt know what to do, or where to go, so i just went back home, all soaked in blood. Not quite sure what i was thinkin’- if i was thinkin’ at all. N’ when i made it back, there my Pa was, passed out drunk at the table. Its a good thing- ‘m sure he would’ve tried to kill me too if he had been awake, im sure i looked the part of a murderous woman. Thats when i noticed he was readin’ some book before he dosed off- and he wasnt ever the book readin’ type, so i grabbed it up n’ read one of the pages… n’ it was my Mommas journal” your eyebrows furrow. At this point your tone wasnt as calm as it once was, starting to break with a bit of anger, your knuckles now white from gripping the reins so hard. “Pages upon pages of how terrible my Pa was to her… beat her worse than he ever did me. Eventually i get to the pages from when she was pregnant… sayin she hoped for my life and hers that i was a boy. How scared she was of him and how violent he had gotten.” You have to pause to take a deep breath before you continue “and finally i get to a page that was dated the day before my birthday- He always told me that she died during birth, so i was expectin’ that to be the last page… except it wasnt. There were three more pages- talkin’ ‘bout how badly he had beaten her the night i was born, how she couldnt live like this anymore, and how she was gettin’ us outta there. Then it ended. Rest of the pages were blank…”
People say the body never forgets, and they must be right because as you recall the memories, you can feel your heartbeat increase and your stomach drop. It may not have been as strong of a feeling as it was that night, but you sure as hell felt it.
You swallow hard, “it took me a couple a’ seconds to put 2 n’ 2 together, but once i did, i went ballistic. Lost my damn mind. Grabbed a knife from the kitchen and stabbed ‘em… i dont know how many times.” Anger steadily flowing through your body remembering it all, you glare in no particular direction, but a wave of strength passes through you when you recall the moment you vowed to never let someone treat you badly again. “No matter how many it was, he deserved more.”
“Sounds like yer’ Pa got what was comin’ for ‘em. If you ask me, you did the world a service takin’ out those fools” Arthurs words pull you from your memory loop, “But remind me to never make you mad.” He adds, and his attempt to lighten the mood works. You appreciated that he focused on your resolution rather than pitying you for when you were young and weak. He wasnt going to mention it, but he did have a deeper empathy for your situation, seeing as his father wasnt particularly pleasant when he was a child either and his mother also died when he was young. He never expected pity for it, and he knew good and well you didnt either. It seemed the two of you were more similar than Arthur had realized.
You cant help but to huff out a laugh, fully accepting of shifting to a lighter mood after such a heavy topic. “You tend to stay on my good side Arthur, always been kind to me.” It was true, every since you joined the camp Arthur had looked out for you, despite your insists that you “dont need no ones help”, hell there had been more times than you could count on your fingers throughout the years where you had been particularly sassy torwards him after a long day, only for him to say “Now whatchu’ tryin’ to quarrel with me for darlin, i aint done nothin.” Your usual response was to just walk away with a huff, only to ‘apologize’ the next morning by handing him a cup of coffee, which he always accepted.
“Well Ms. L/N, ive seen how you handle business, you can be an intimidatin’ woman” Like stated previously, it was hard for him to even imagine someone taking advantage of you- because for the years hes known you, youve never taken shit from any man. He could recall countless times where he had seen you seriously injure men- there were even a couple of times where he watched you make grown men cry. He had no desire to be on the receiving end of your rage. But, it made him respect you all the more. Not to mention, now that you had been riding with the gang for a while, you had turned into quite the gunman. “I hope i remain on your good side.”
This makes you smile, and you happily entertain the thought of Arthur Morgan being intimidated by you “Well for your sake, i hope you remain on my good side as well Mr. Morgan.” You look over to him simply to show off the smug look on your face, and he cant help but to chuckle.
“Alright, dont go thinking yer’ Landon Ricketts or nothin’,” Arthur shakes his head at you with a grin, then looks back ahead of him, the small town of Valentine getting closer and closer. “Remember Ms. L/N, were lyin’ low, dont go stirin’ up trouble”
“Oh would you hush with that, you aint foolin’ no one” You slightly roll your eyes at his insists that you were the trouble maker in the group. “Where you headin first?”, as the two of you near the town, you want to get everything in line just incase something did happen. You werent planning on stirring anything up, but you werent exactly the type to shy down from a fight either, and if things go left you wanted to make sure you could regroup if need be.
“Figure theyre at the saloon, probably lazin’ about not getting anything productive done” he states plainly, by now you had entered the town, and the saloon was just right around the corner. The town was surprisingly alive this morning, lots of people walking around and sitting on porches having conversations.
You nod at him, and refrain from questioning their presence at a saloon this early in the morning. “Right, well ill meet you fellers there in a minute, gonna go ahead and get Lux her treats,” as you speak you give her a couple of affectionate pats, smiling down at the animal. “Catch ya’ in a few.” You barely give Arthur a chance to respond with a “Sounds good” before you nudge Lux softly to get her to pick up a little speed, heading off in the direction of the stables.
It only takes a couple more moments to reach the stables, and once you near them you position Lux right next to the barn doors, hopping off of her and hitching her to a near by post. You dont even have to say anything, the man running the stables walks over and greats you immediately, shortly following this with a “Wow! Shes a beauty, you aint lookin’ to sell are ya?”
“Oh no no no, she aint going anywhere anytime soon” You stand up straight and place your hands on your hips, “was actually just stoppin’ by to get her some snacks, some pears in particular” you quirk an eyebrow at him “y’all got pears, right?”
“Yer’ in luck Miss, we got plenty of pears-“
“How many?”
After a couple minutes of conversation, mainly you haggling him on the price since you were “gettin’ 20 pears! Deserve some kinda’ bulk deal or somethin” plus, flashing him a smile and batting your eyelashes a couple of times, you were able to bring the price down from $13 to $9, and that was a win in your book. You had thrown all the pears into a woven bag that you attached to the side Lux’s saddle, besides one, holding it right in front of your horse for her to smell, grinning at her and cooing, “Look what i got for ya’, Miss All Luxurious”
Lux wasted no time leaning in to bite the pear, loudly crunching the top half of it off, smacking her lips a bit as she continued to chew. Within a few seconds she was coming back in for the bottom half of the fruit, taking it from your grasp and drooling all over your hand. You groan “Aw man, C’mon Lux, really?” And flick your hand off to the side in attempts to get the drool off of you. You playfully glare at her and she huffs, still chewing away on her treat. “Well im glad you enjoyed it so much, yer’ welcome” You wipe the remaining bit of drool on your pants and rub her nose “lucky yer’ so damn cute” Sighing, you give her one final nose rub and take a step back “Alright, gonna go check on the men, you keep look out for me girl” talking away at her as if she could process a single word you were saying. She only blinks at you and you take that as a sign of acknowledgement, turning on your heels and heading off to the saloon.
As you walk alongside of the pathway through town, townsfolk great you here and there as they pass by, sometimes giving a bit of small talk about how it looked like it was about to rain or other pleasantries, nothing too interesting. Youre only about 10 foot away from the entrance of the saloon when you hear yelling coming from inside, and you just shake your head and sigh, “ah, shit”
You assumed that the likelihood of this yelling not having anything to do with your lovely group members was probably a zero, so you quicken your pace, making your way up the stairs of the saloon and preparing yourself for the mess inside. Just as youre about to push through the entrance you freeze hearing a loud crash of glass breaking to the left of you, and it almost seemed like the world was in slow motion as you watched the one and only Arthur Morgan come tumbling through the window, bouncing off of the porch and into the muddy street. Your eyes widen, hand immediately going to rest on your gun, you hadnt heard any gunshots yet, but you wanted to be prepared. Law didnt seem to be involved yet either, and you didnt want to be the one to start shooting and change that fact. The wooden boards beneath you begin to shake with heavy steps, and you move out of the way just in time as a large man bursts through the entrance of the saloon.
“Come on, pretty boy…” the large man mocks Arthur as we walks down the stairs, and when you look back over to the outlaw, hes already back on his feet, readying himself for more.
“Pretty boy? Yer’ kiddin’ me? Pretty boy??”
You have to suppress a laugh at this, and as you watch the men start fighting again you relax a bit, even though Arthur and the man were really going at it, you could tell this was not a situation that you needed to start shooting over- not yet at least- just a typical bar brawl, definitely not the first one you had witnessed, you figured it wouldnt be the last either. People steadily surround the two men, some chanting for more, some shouting for them to stop, but they kept on going, neither one planning on forfeiting. Figuring Arthur had it under control, you stride over to the porch next to the saloon, granting yourself a quick smoke as you leaned against one of the support beams and continued to watch the quarrel.
You had to give it to the man- ‘Tommy’ you had overheard the towns people calling him- he was putting up a good fight against your fellow gang member, effectively using his size to toss Arthur around a bit. Arthur was no small man, but Tommy had him beat by both weight and height. Most of the time you had seen the gunslinger fight, it was usually him strong-arming everyone else, so it was quite a sight to witness Arthur having to put a bit more thought into his movements, trying to keep a little extra space between him and the brute so he didn’t constantly sling him around. By this time it had started to rain, making the fight even messier than it already had been, mud and blood flinging around with even punch thrown. Even with him starting to adapt to Tommys fighting style, Tommy got one good grab around Arthurs neck and shoved him to the ground, and thats when you started to get a little nervous. You fully trusted in Arthurs fighting abilities, but watching as Tommy shoved his face into the mud, you were starting to take this brawl a little more seriously.
Cigarette still placed between your lips, you stood at full attention, readying yourself incase you needed to intervene, but before you could worry any longer, Arthur was able to reel back and place a hefty punch right against Tommys jaw. The large man stumbled back, losing his balance even more when he received a kick to the groin, which gave Arthur the perfect opportunity to grab the man and flip them over so Tommy was now the one squirming around in the mud, trying to regain his advantage. Arthur gives him no time to recoup as he begins laying punch after punch to the mans face, anger and adrenaline flowing through his veins, urging him to keep going despite the townsfolk now shouting for the fight to end. You just shake your head and huff out a laugh, relieved that Arthur was able to gain control over the situation.
You stay in your spot, leaning back against the support beam once again as an onlooker finally intervenes the quarrel, yelling for Arthur to stop, “You won the fight already, surely thats enough?” he continues to plead with him and Arthur finally releases the grip he had of Tommys shirt while he was striking him, the large man hitting the mud with a squelch.
They exchange a couple more words, before Arthur pushes by him, stumbling a bit as he pushes through the crowd of observers as well, making his way towards the porch you were currently watching from. Now that the townspeople had dispersed a little, you could see Tommy laying borderline lifeless on the wetted soil, face already swollen and all bloodied as the man who stopped the fight tried to bring him to his feet. Arthur had really messed him up- not that this surprised you any.
Rubbing his sore jaw, Arthur glanced up from the ground only to see you, arms folded across your chest and giving him a raised brow. He already knew what you were going to say, especially after all his remarks on the way here about ‘staying out of trouble.’ He places one of his hands on his back to help straighten his posture as he takes a couple steps up the stairs, then wiping some of the mud off of his face- mainly just smearing it everywhere rather than actually removing it. He waits for you to speak first but it doesnt come, you were just looking at him, small smirk on your face while you smoke, so he takes the initiative, “Well, you enjoy the show Ms. L/N?”
Your smirk slowly turns to a grin, and you nod “Sure i did.” you start, and as you speak you pull another cigarette from your satchel, using your own half-smoked cig to light the new one, then you hand it to him. He nods as a quick ‘thanks’ and graciously accepts, taking a drag of it as you continue to talk again. “Ya know,” you point the fingers that held your cigarette torwards him teasingly, “You’ve got a real interestin’ take on the phrase ‘lyin’ low.” Townsfolk continued to pass by as the two of you spoke, mumbling about the fight, and Arthur in general, sending the pair of you dirty looks.
Ah, there it was “Yeah i was waitin’ on that” he mumbled, as he spoke some of the mud made its way into his mouth, making him turn to the side and spit, the taste of mud and iron wasnt exactly pleasant. He tried to wipe around his mouth once again but only smeared it more than he previously had.
You roll your eyes at him and grab his arm, pulling him towards the other end of the porch with a “C’mere.” You had noted a barrel of water sitting farther down the porch when you had first made your way over, so you guided him to it, and once you were in front of it you reached into your satchel to grab a small rag. You dip it into the water with one hand, the other reaching up to softly grab his chin, and you bring the rag up to wipe his face off. Arthur doesnt even bother removing the cigarette between his lips, letting you work away at getting him cleaned up. As you scrub his face you suddenly notice how close the two of you are right now, and the gesture of wiping him off feels a lot more intimate than you intended it to be- hand on his face, only within a few inches of each other. Trying to ignore this thought, you refuse to meet his eyes that seemed to be staring into your soul, focusing on the few dots left of mud around the slit of broken skin on his cheek, being a little more gentle.
The closeness between the two of you didnt go unnoticed to Arthur either, and he wasnt going to admit it, but it felt nice. Unbeknownst to you, he had always thought you were an attractive woman as well, and he liked how you carried yourself. Strong and independent but also soft when you needed to be, extremely caring of those who mattered to you. And funny… sometimes. In his mind, he had made a move on you before- that time long ago, a bit after Mary had been wed- which mostly consisted of him saying something along the lines of “Ya’ look nice this evening Ms. L/N” or “Did you do somethin’ different with yer’ hair? Looks good like that” or other small compliments that you felt was just him being nice. So, since you never clearly showed that you reciprocated those feelings, he just figured you didnt see him in any special way. Maybe you saw him more as a friend, or a brother, or maybe just a no good outlaw, he wasnt sure, but he definitely wasnt going to be the one to make things awkward. All that aside, what man wouldnt enjoy a pretty woman taking care of him after a fight.
You look him over one final time for any last specks of mud- on his face at least- and as you do, you accidentally lock eyes with his for a moment, your hand still resting on his chin. Those couple seconds feel much longer than they actually were, and even with your gentle treatment of his wounds, the one on his cheek still continues to drip a bit of blood down his face. ‘God, how does he still look so handsome, all covered in mud and blood’ you think to yourself, and you have to pull away before your face starts to heat up, now avoiding his gaze. You try to distract yourself from the tension between the two of you by ringing out the rag, recalling the fight once again “Thought that big brute had ya’ there for a second”
Arthur shakes his head “Naw, that fool? I had it under control.” With the way you pulled back from his so quickly, he once again dismisses any possibility of you seeing something in him, ‘Dont get ahead of yourself Morgan’ he repeats in his head, shutting out the thought completely. Hes grateful as he hears a voice shout to him, pulling him from his thoughts and successfully distracting him for the moment.
“Making friends again I see, Arthur.”
You also are pulled from your thoughts, looking up to see Trelawny and Dutch making their way closer. You thank the stars that you didnt have to think of something else to say to Arthur, shifting your full focus to the men in front of you, allowing them to take the spotlight.
“Ah, and Ms. Y/N L/N, hello my dear.” Josiah continues, and you smile at him, waving a hello. He was always a kind man, slippery, but very informative- very grandeur and very sneaky, but not quite one to get his hands dirty, he left that to the professionals.
“Look who we found sniffing about.” Dutch gestures to the man, and Trelawny takes a bow, formal as ever.
“Josiah Trelawny” Arthur smiles a bit, not having seen their old associate in a while. “Well well… I thought youd gone to New York” he laughs and everyone continues to catch up for a moment, Josiah recalling his first hand experience with how badly the gang had stirred stuff up in Blackwater, while Arthur takes a seat on the stairs. It had been weeks and Blackwater was still up in arms, not necessarily surprising you, but not great news to hear either. After a couple more seconds, Charles, Javier, and Bill finally make their way over, all looking equally at roughed up as Arthur, just not quite as muddy, and Trelawny greets them all just as well.
Arthur speaks up mentioning Blackwater once again, “We left a lot of money there.” And Trelawny finally drops the big news,
“And young Sean it seems”
“Sean?” You and Dutch both reconfirm, and your eyes widen. You remembered your conversation a couple weeks ago with Karen, you knew she would be beyond happy to hear this. You were happy as well, even though Sean could be a bit much at times, you had to admit, he was funny and always brought a lightness to camp.
“Youve found him?” Dutch presses more, almost unbelieving at the news, shocked they hadnt killed him already.
“Yes, I have. Hes being held by some bounty hunters, trying to see how much the government will pay them. I know hes in Blackwater… but theres talk of them moving” Josiah confirms with a nod, looking between the lot of you as he speaks.
Arthur speaks up, rubbing his jaw as he finally rises “Well if we step foot in Blackwater… well then were dead men for sure”
You nod regarding Arthurs statement “Already lost folk in Blackwater. Dont need to lose no more but… we cant just leave ‘em there” you shake your head, the gruesome image of Sean getting the noose flashing in your brain. They would definitely hang him for that business in Blackwater.
Dutch hums in approval “Exactly… There’ll be Pinkertons all over the place, but… if hes alive we gotta try”
“Yeah, of course” Arthur mumbles under his breath, nodding along with everyone.
Josiah talks lowly as he mentions “Its you they want Dutch.” As if saying it too loudly would alert someone near by.
Dutch simple shrugs it off with an “Always Is.” And seems unconcerned completely about it. You werent sure if it was a facade or if he really just didnt believe it was a big deal, but you personally thought it was a much bigger situation than he was willing to admit. Dutch begins giving everyone their orders, ordering Charles to get some more info, Josiah to take Javier to Blackwater, and ordering Arthur to get cleaned up and meet the other men there. “Y/N, you go as well, keep them from causing too much trouble” he adds with a charming smile, and you give a curt nod in response.
The group disperses and you follow behind Arthur figuring the two of you could ride together once more, watching as he makes his way over to the barrel of water once again, splashing some of it on him to get the remainjng bit of mud out of his hair and neck. He runs his fingers through his hair and looks back at you, looking all ready to go with your hand on your hip holster.
“Ill go saddle up.” You state plainly, and turn to walk away, but Arthur catches your attention before you can get too far.
“Why dont you just… stay back for this one cowgirl, Blackwater’s real dangerous right now”
You turn and furrow your eyebrows at him, hands immediately moving to your hips as you stood there, looking at him like you had to process what he just said. “Stay back?” You say it like it was an insult. “Dutch told me to go.”
Arthur Whistles for his horse, and takes some steps closer to your position next to the end of the porch, waiting for his mare get closer. He sighs “I know what Dutch said, but Javier and Charles are gonna be there too, plus Trelawny- we got plenty of good men goin’,” As his horse trots in front of him, he walks ahead, already saddling up as he continues to speak “Why dont you… head back to camp? Tell Karen were bringin’ Sean home, she’ll be happy to hear”
Now looking up at him, towering over you from his horse, your furrowed brows deepen as you glare at him, hat protecting your eyes from the bit of rain that continued to fall here and there. “Since when was i the messenger man?” You ask sarcastically, he should have known better than to think you were going to let this go easily. “You aint never questioned my abilities before, whats the problem?” You ask, a bit more serious now.
“There aint no problem Ms. L/N, just… dont need you gettin’ shot again” He was just concerned about your safety, but by the look on your face that was the wrong thing to say.
You scoff at him “Oh, i see, just cause i get shot one time means that i cant carry my own anymore” you throw your arms up in a should-have-been-obvious fashion, then placing them back on your hips, your disapproval evident even in your body language. “You know, you wouldnt be saying that if i was one of the men, Johns been out helping, he got shot and attacked by wolves but i dont see anyone sa-“
“Come on now Darlin’, would’ya just listen t’me for a second” and his words quickly silence you, especially the use of the nickname, and he tries to come up with something that will make you a bit more agreeable. “The three of us are gonna be gone for a bit, need someone to hang back n’ protect camp incase somethin’ goes wrong.”
You give your usual huff at the petname, still not convinced. You felt like a child who got tasked with a simple job by an adult to feel like they were included in helping. Not a feeling that was enjoyed one bit. “And what? If i try to go, yer’ gonna stop me?” You tilt your head to the side.
Arthur is now furrowing his eyebrows at you as well, becoming a little more serious, “Stop bein’ difficult and let me take care of it” tone coming out a bit more demanding than he meant for it to, so he softens his brows and adds a “Please”
You scan his features for a moment, trying to think of someway to change his mind, but finally you sigh, looking away from him. “Fine.” You huff and start walking away, “But this aint becomin’ a common occurrence Arthur,” as you get farther from him, you increase your voice level, assuring he can hear you. “Only reason im agreein’ to it’s cause i got other… work related things to tend to” you choose your words carefully, not needing the towns people knowing that you had a fool nearby to rob. Shouldnt be too hard of a job either, you had overheard some woman a couple days ago blabbing on about how she had recently married into a lot of money- some man who's daddy traded slaves. Her and her newly wed husband were going on a trip, leaving "that nice big house near Citadel Rock" unattended for a couple days, vulnerable and at risk. You knew the one she was talking about, you had rode by it plenty in your few weeks at Horseshoe Overlook. So despite your indifference at the moment you turn back to him, a defeated look on your face, and you speak a little softer than you were before, "Be safe for godsake... aint nothin' good waitin' on you in Blackwater... 'except Sean I guess"
Arthur tips his hat at you with a "Yes ma'am. You be safe too." then glances back up "Though Sean being something' good is debatable." Typical Arthur, always quick to offend but equally as quick to put his head on the line for someone. He nudges his horses side with his foot, muttering a small “Lets go girl”, he gives her a couple pats, and as he passes by you he speaks once more “Ill see ya’ back at camp”
You only nod, still not exactly happy that you were being left out of a mission, and before you know it, you look up and Arthur was long gone. You couldnt wrap your head around it. You had been gunslinging with Arthur for years, why was he being shifty about it so suddenly? As you walk to Lux, your mind continues to ruminate on what could have possibly brought this on. Your gunshot wound had healed up plenty by now, you could easily defend yourself with little issue, was that really why he didnt want you to go? You had been hurt before with all your years of gunslinging and it was never a problem then, what changed? Maybe he was just using that as an excuse and you had made it awkward just then, when you so gently tended to him after the fight, and he no longer felt comfortable around you.
You try to dismiss these thoughts, telling yourself this was not the first time you had tended to Arthur after an injury- Hell, you had even done it for other men in the camp before. But why did you clam up so much this time? You sigh, now finally back to Lux. Per usual, you take a minute to love on her, giving her plenty of pats as you use her as a distraction from your running thoughts. Why were you second guessing yourself so much? You try to blame it on the fact that you were just stressed about all the Blackwater business, plus Pinkertons becoming more and more of an issue, ‘Its the only thing that would make sense’ you think.
Finally climbing on top of Lux you head off in the direction of Citadel Rock. You allow the thought of how much money would be in this house to calm your previous anxieties, slave trading money was unfortunately no joke, and you had no problem at all stealing everything from someone who thought it was acceptable to sell a human being. Youd put the money to better use anyways. The house should be completely uninhabited, but you never know what you might run into- as usual, you always wanted to be prepared. Citadel Rock was just down the beaten path from Valentine, and it shouldnt be much farther before you get there.
As you listen to the gallops of Lux’s feet hitting the ground- a sound that has became comforting to you over the years- you take in the scenery of the east. It was about mid-day at this point, the sun covered by a few lingering clouds offered shade that made the temperature feel perfect, and you watched as a small group of deer ran off, spooked at your sudden presence. You decide that after your house breaking, youd bag a deer before you head back to camp. They seemed to be everywhere around here, shouldnt be too hard of a task. You finally near the house, and just as expected no one seems to be around. ‘Perfect, ill be in and out’
Little did you know, despite telling himself not to ruminate on it, Arthur was also slightly overthinking your actions earlier, and his lengthy ride to Blackwater gave him plenty of time to do so. He always thought that if he had never met Mary, maybe you would have been easier for him to pursue- after the whole situation between Arthur and Mary, his relationship with love was untrusting. But he always thought you were a good woman, and it was easy to get carried away with the ‘what ifs’. He wasnt sure why, but it was like what happened between the two of you earlier awoken a once forgotten crush, and he felt ridiculous for even thinking about you in this light. He thought he was too old to be feeling smitten. Arthur knew you were a caring person, you were probably just being nice, he was just being illogical with this. It didnt help that he had been interacting with you a lot these past couple weeks since you had been hanging around camp more and your tent was pretty close to his.
He rubbed his face, still somewhat sore from the fight, with a sigh as he finally reached Blackwater, how did he allow hisself to contemplate this almost the entire ride over here? Arthur was glad you finally agreed to hanging back for this, he wasnt quite sure if he could have handled the ride over with you by his side whilst he thought all of this. The last thing he wanted to do was look like a fool in front of you, though he definitely already had throughout your years with the gang, maybe just in a different sense than what was currently going on. He tried his best to shove these thoughts aside as he rode deeper into Blackwater, he needed to be on alert and prepare hisself for this upcoming adventure, not yearning for a woman.
Arthur finally spots his fellow men, and he figures once he can get involved with this, he’ll be too distracted to worry about his current predicament, so he hops off his horse and makes his way over on foot, crouching as he gets near. And sure enough, as the rest of the men catch him up on everything, his mind finally wanders from you to his current objective, and he temporarily forgets about it all. Untill he sees you again, that is.
Hell yeah, first chapter done. Ended up being way longer than i thought itd be, but once i got through the Coulter portion i just felt like there wasnt enough tension yet!! Gotta keep things interesting. But to anyone who reads this, ples let me know if you guys would prefer shorter chapters more frequently or longer chapters but more spaced out. Hopefully it was enjoyable!! I havent written in a while but its been so nice to have a project again. Thank you my beautiful readers!!!
where it truly lies. | a star wars tale
chapter xvii - sense
he looks in the eyes of someone he had once failed.
full work
[Anakin Skywalker x Reader]
The doors of the briefing room hissed as they parted.
The sterile recycled air of the hallway hit your face in whiplash as you exited the room shortly after the formal dismissal. The more walls you passed, the more they became cold and unforgiving, and they felt no different than a cage - and, much like the confinements of a cage, all you wanted to do was go elsewhere.
Anywhere but the vicinity of the unknown, of the one variable that, no matter how hard you had tried to ignore, the Force always found a way to put right back into the equation.
Unknown was something you had stopped being afraid of a long time ago, for not many choices had been presented to you - not knowing if your belly would have been full into the night, or if your ship could have withered one more hit through the ion storms, had trained your mind enough to develop the courage to dive headfirst, regardless of the consequences.
It was survival, after all - that never changed, whether you found yourself on a daunting warship or the leveled moon, and it did not listen to your excuses stemming from fear or hesitation alike.
It demanded motion, movement, action, for they were the only answers it had ever accepted, and every fiber of your informal training obeyed, much against the heartbeat in your ribs that kept calling a name you could never forget.
The question of where answered itself in the frantic thoughts of your mind that threatened to match your motions, as you had very limited choices before facing the wrong end of a blaster.
The ship.
Your ship, the one that carried you across worlds, the one with the damaged starboard panel, the one holding your trusted droid safely occupied. The one that seemed like the only familiar place to run to, the only constant that you could name, as the halls were foreign, the overhead lights were too bright, and the air suddenly felt too dry to breathe in.
The heat that had burnt enough to scar within your sternum grew colder with each step treaded.
The boots that had seen the grime of the Outer Rim hit too hard against the polished durasteel, too fast, in a hurry that they had not been in a while, with intention in mind, your memory not failing you yet to map the turns you had walked through a mere hour ago.
They kept up.
They did their job of lining up your feet, one after the other, keeping you as stable as they could when your gait threatened to falter at any given moment, holding up the slight buckle of your knees with the shock running through your limbs.
Yet, they could not be fast enough, for you did not make it far before a heavier, louder stride made the steel echo, with a frequency you could never mistake for anyone elses.
The low static in your mind that had hummed since the first step onto the warship, now erupted, spreading across all your senses, your limbs, and took over your thoughts in the only way it knew how to.
Instinct, the honed edge just under your skin that had kept you alive, that had managed to extract you out of impossible situations in one piece, was left defenseless against the mere proximity after a decade of distance, and the sheer possibility of an exchange after a decade of silence.
Of all moments, across the stars and the space and through the days spent wishing, it chose this one to break resolve - when a voice you had lost all hope in rang through metal with a certain plea.
“Wait.”
------------------
“Wait.”
In the moment that your body moved to turn, an otherwise instant motion that stretched reality this time, etching itself very well into his mind - Anakin Skywalker could swear he felt the galaxy fall, right through his fingers, star and planet alike disappearing into oblivion the moment his eyes locked into yours.
War, he could prepare for.
He could train endlessly in the salles, swing and push until he was drenched in sweat, obliterate any obstacle to perfect his form. He could review approach plans till the rotations slowed and blue of the holotable became one with his vision. He could read maps and create tactics in the hopes of surviving a siege in a clever way, bending the rules just a little when he needed to.
War, at least, was something from which he could come out victorious.
The fastening heartbeat that echoed against his ribcage reminded him, almost instantly that, from this, there was no parting with a win.
It was a ripple within the Force so strong it dragged deep cracks across the surface as if the very fabric of the universe was mortal durasteel. It was the clash of many truths he had once attempted to sweep aside, by his own hand, finally landing to show face.
This, no rule he had ever come to know could contain. There was nothing, nothing in the whole wide galaxy, that could have prepared him for just how this would feel.
Nothing would ever account for the collapse of all that held him whole, from the very instant he had felt your signature in the thread of the universe, to this moment where his feet had dragged him towards you, without permission, without a second thought.
The corridor, the standard sleek design of the Republic’s finest warship, that often bore the coldness he had gotten used to way too quickly, now pulsed with the warmth of the thread that refused to be tamed.
His pulse had found a new tempo, a new rhythm that the war had not yet taught him, one that lived in the marrow of a boy who had once pressed his cheek to a viewport in a ship that would fail to keep promises.
What lived beneath the walls he had once built with bloodstained hands, the very emotion he had refused to name even in the privacy of his own mind, had never disappeared through the years that, unknowingly, inevitably, all led to a singular point in spacetime - and, they tugged onto the pull that lived in his sternum to awaken it.
They did not have to try for long, for the thread was no longer a dormant, silent being once filtered out by his own doing, for no wall, no mind trick could ever contain scorching warmth.
Following the pull, his reflexes moving against the will of his mind, the movement of his eyes betrayed the difference of rank that hung in the air.
And, at this moment, perhaps with a hint of shame, he allowed himself to take you in, for the war did not afford the recognition often, for the weight of long lost years demanded it so.
The dreams that had often woken him up in sweat and gasps, the faint visuals that rendered him unable to fall back into slumber could not do justice to what the galaxy had carved out of the girl in the desert.
Innocence was a long lost feature that no longer coated your face, as fate and decision alike had rendered it infeasible to stay. Your flight suit, a dark synleather number he had noticed you zip up with haste prior to leaving, spoke of a thousand runs, of rattled seats and metal that pierced through on a hit taken too hard, yet, above all, of all the hits that you had survived.
The lines of your figure had gotten sharper, leaner, taller than the girl who had once fit under a workbench. The faint traces of definition along your limbs were molded by a life spent from one cockpit to another, a life of survival that he had been too afraid, too occupied to witness.
It all added onto the tender tragedy of your face, one he had not been ready to read, one he thought he had memorized every letter of in his mind once, yet, still, the inscription was of a language he had forgotten how to speak.
It was a face that would haunt his living and breathing moments, one that had stolen the air in his chest before he could protest, one forged in fire and molded by pain, one the galaxy had no right to make this beautiful.
And, Maker, your eyes. Those eyes that had shone with the fire of building, of winning, those familiar irises that overlaid themselves to the expanse of his dreams, of his conscience, of the memories that threatened to resurface regardless of the many tactics the Jedi had taught him.
From the day you had pranced into the junk shop, ever since the formation of that unforgettable memory he etched onto his heart long ago - Anakin had known those eyes would be the death of him.
And now, they were, unapologetically, staring right into his, making him wonder just what you were seeing, and what exactly mirrored the defiance in your gaze in the depths of your soul.
The general, hardened by the weight of decisions he had to make, scarred by fire and ash alike, was reduced to a little boy on the desert with sand in his hair and the suns blinding his eyes.
It was no longer the warrior that stood in the spotless halls, but rather the little boy who had also once stood in a shop, and believed, with all the certainty of childhood, that there would never be a force strong enough to take you away from him.
He was, with all that was left of him, at that moment when the ship stood still, the boy that had promised you the stars.
The strength that often came natural to him, dwindled as it decided to let fate take over - and it was evidenced by words finally finding voice, finally dragging themselves from his dry throat, low, unbelieving, and raw.
“It’s you. You - you are alive.”
As the admission left his mouth with a tremble in his voice, nothing seemed to matter.
Suddenly, the war disappeared from his thoughts. Voices that belonged to the routine of the ship quieted, the distant murmur of clones and officers moving through the belly of the vessel no more than residual noise.
There was nothing but the resurrected pulse within his chest, echoing the vibrations in your signature, screaming, kicking, yet silent.
There was nothing but the very reflection of all he had once held close to his heart, standing on a pair of dusted boots, shining with the blinding light of the suns that the galaxy could not succeed in dimming.
His gaze flickered across your face with a helplessness he despised in himself, in an attempt of attaching memory to a face, of digging what he had buried with his own hands.
He hoped, in the depths of his heart, that the child from the desert was in there somewhere, whose laughter was subdued for survival, who was forced to grow up too soon. It was in the almost defiant way you held his stare and did not flinch under recognition, in the faint tension along your jaw that spoke of secrets than aggression, as they all materialized into the sharp silhouette that the lowest places in the galaxy carved out of you.
Then came your voice, dry but purposeful, and it proved to be enough to rip the galaxy apart in the depths of his conscience.
“It seems that I am, General Skywalker.”
The title, uttered from voice he had only heard in dreams finally finding tone, struck him like a blaster bolt, making his jaw twitch.
It did not carry the warmth of the nickname you once had for him, one you never dropped from your tongue when he had to rewire, one that you had screamed across the stars at his rising ship. It was pure ice, for it sounded wrong coming out of your mouth, after all these years. It was too clean, too deliberate, shaped by a restraint that made the thread ache between his ribs.
It awakened something in him, born out of the ashes of recognizing yet always falling short - a certain melancholic denial that he was told, countless times, to let go as a Padawan.
The words left him before his discipline could stop them, his training falling short yet another time, as shame could not act fast enough to drag them behind his teeth where they belonged.
“That is what you are calling me?”
The simple question hung in the sterile air, followed by the slight breathy chuckle that carried the disbelief of a man who had heard his own rank spoken to him thousands of times across the war, across each rotation, and had never once felt it tear open a wound up until that moment.
However, you seemingly did not care to share his disbelief, as your gaze remained on his with a stillness that, at first glance, could have passed for indifference. Yet, the burning feeling beneath his ribs had another thought as it tightened in a way that made the empty space between your bodies some uncharted territory no voice dared to cross.
“It is your rank.”
The obvious truth sounded nonchalant as it spilled from your mouth, yet the rank did not belong to your voice, not to him, for there was once a shorter name you had for him that had carried a different melody in the warm air.
Anakin, with the stubbornness that had won him battles, made it his unspoken mission to uncover what the decade had eroded whatever was left of the sparks that once erupted in your eyes when they had landed on him, whether the name you had for him still rang close to your heart or if it had been swallowed along with many words that never came to the tongue.
“You know that is not what I meant.”
Your hands went back to clasp themselves, assessing, in the same way they did when you had been inspecting his wiring under the panels, when you had watched him attach servomotors to half-finished droids, with a certain maturity carved by sand that many children had not possessed that young.
To an outside observer, to the passerby clone heading to his post, to any other pilot or soldier, it would be seen as a harmless, natural gesture of a lower-ranking officer when faced with the general of a legion.
To him, it was a blade, rough along the edges, lodged into his skin deeper with each beat of recognition - yet the memory managed to outweigh the pain as it earned a softening in his electric blues, for your hands, beneath the icy enigma of your stance, still spoke the same language, even when your mouth refused to.
“I am afraid you are going to have to be more clear, sir.”
He did not know what he had wanted or what he had expected, for he had imagined all the possible scenarios seeing you would bring, over the years, often in the darkness of his bunk or in the corners of the training salles. He had imagined this a hundred different ways, often times with a gentle hug, or an angry outburst, a sobbing yet smiling face, if the Force had given him the blessing of sparing your life enough to meet again.
It had, and along with the light, it had also given him the dark.
The guise of recognition that the heat in his sternum denied viciously, the relaxed body language that you never broke as if it was strict formation, the words that concealed their true meaning under formality, the closeness of a mere three meters yet all the distance that came with it - brought out what he had often forgotten about.
It brought back, in the flesh, the boy in the desert, the relentlessly stubborn yet kind demeanor, with the childish anger stemming hot and anew, the one his masters and their doctrines had attempted to bury under the sand, yet could only hope to succeed.
His gloved hand flew to the back of his neck, a restless, frustrated motion of a body that refused to stand still in front of a ghost from the past, in front of the one, singular, constant truth that the galaxy had never succeeded in taking away from his soul.
“Don’t.”
That earned him a slight tilt of your head, your eyes relentless in their calm hue as they kept contact with his, a slightly confused expression settling into your gaze.
“Don't stand here and act like - don't talk to me like you don't know me."
His breathing shifted into something more urgent, the rhythm of it slowly losing its resolve, following the tightening of his jaw, yielding to him even before the implications of the words could fully take a shape. Hints of frustration, something no Jedi should have ever housed within, crossed his face more evidently now, turning more unguarded by the second.
He was a man who could command armies with precision, yet could not command a single sentence right there in that corridor, against the patient voice of a woman who, seemingly, had all night, and had no intention of giving anything away.
"I know who you are, General. Everyone on this ship knows who you are. Half the Outer Rim has heard your name by now."
And, before the silence could engulf the air, before the meaning could land in his mind and soul, your voice carried on its steady pursuit which showed no mercy to the fire in his ribs.
“I also know where we stand.”
Something behind his eyes shifted, the light in them dimmed as if the flame that kept his protest alive got extinguished. His shoulders, broad and tense beneath the robes that had always, somehow, seemed to belong to someone older, someone steadier, dropped into the quiet stance that spoke of defeat.
It was a surrender for a battle he had not been given a chance to negotiate through, for he had already done so, when he had boarded that ship in the middle of the dunes, when he had sealed your name into the void with bloody hands in the desert.
Words rose, still, like ash swirling in the wind to make it to the skies. All the sentences he had silently screamed, all the apologies, the regrets and explanations that came with them, all ten years’ worth of utterances, yet none of them felt worthy against what the years had carved out of you, and none of them felt sufficient to cover what he had owed.
He wondered if they ever could.
They did not make it past his teeth before your voice rang in the sterilized air again, sending his heart into a frenzy.
“Now, unless there is anything I can help with, General,” you spoke, voice cold, dry in a way that could never reveal any emotion underneath, “ - I have a mission to prepare for.”
And, once again, in his troubled blue eyes, he carried the look of the nine-year old boy under the suns, watching your parting figure disappear into a sandstorm - only this time, the sand was durasteel, and the storm was one of his own making.
The thread, the one he had buried alongside every promise he had broken, every plea he had failed and every vow he had made, stretched taut between as you turned the corner without awaiting formal dismissal - and it did not grow cold.
It only shone brighter - and, he knew, through echoes of his destiny etched onto his very bones, through the pulsing pull of the thread, that it would burn him whole one day.
Summary: A couple of days after the accident Dustin finally decides to apologize for his behavior, only he had been acting weird. You and Steve find him at the cemetery, turns out you weren't the only one looking for him.
Warnings: a bit of angst, fluff?? Reader is a badass
Notes: Part three is possible, but as of right now, I'm stumped on how to proceed. So, any ideas or recommendations would be awesome.
It had been a couple days since the accident, but the effects of it still lingered. You and Dustin hadn’t spoken since the accident, you had tried, though it seemed Dustin didn’t want anything to do with you. Could you blame him? You had said some pretty mean stuff–sure it was stuff he needed to hear but nonetheless you felt bad.
Currently you were sitting in Steve’s bed shuffling through the short stack of films he had dug out for you to pick one for y’all to watch, a little date night per se. You still had a bandage on your forehead, and you were sore but nothing too bad, nothing you couldn’t handle. You look up to see Steve walk through the door, and he sits down on the bed beside you, leaning in to give you a kiss on the lips.
“Okay babe you have a movie picked out yet? I have the living room all set up for us, pizza, popcorn, your favorite candy, and drinks.” As Steve spoke, he kept his face close to yours, close enough to feel each other's breaths.
“Blankets?” You let your eyes meet his, a smile on your face knowing he probably forgot.
“Oh right! Blankets. How could I forget?” He keeps leaning in as he speaks and eventually his lips are on yours again, but not for long because he starts kissing all over your face, a hand going around your waist to keep you from being able to get away.
“Steve!” you get out between laughs “Steve stop! “You keep laughing as he moves down to your neck. You knew he was just being silly, he’s been doing all he can to keep your mood light and well, this was working pretty good. You reach up trying to push his face away and he just looks up at you with a dorky smile on his face
“Come on! Can’t I kiss my beautiful girlfriend?” Steve mock-whined giving you a performative pout.
You didn’t get the chance to answer before the two of you heard the front door open downstairs. You and Steve give each other a look then you both get off the bed to go downstairs to see who was here. Pretty much everyone just entered Steve's house, well at least the kids and Robin did, they knew they were welcome anytime. Well except on date night according to Steve. You made it downstairs and you see Dustin walking in, backpack on, hat low on his face, his Hellfire t-shirt was ripped… This was the third t-shirt he had that was ripped like that… You swore those boys at his school were lucky you were legal or else you’d beat the hell out of them yourself…
“Dustin? Everything oka-?” You didn’t finish your sentence before Dustin’s arms were around you, hugging you tightly. You gave Steve a look, slowly putting your arms around your brother. Steve left to give the two of you the moment.
“Dustin… What's wrong…?” one of your arms is around his shoulder, your other hand comes up sort of rubbing his head. You were puzzled, trying to figure out where this sudden burst of affection came from.
“I’m so sorry… I’ve been such an asshole to you– to everyone. I’m sorry sis I really am.” Dustin said, his voice painfully sincere, it sounded like he was about to break down…
“Hey… It's okay Dustin… It's okay.” Your heart broke at the sound of your brother’s voice, he sounded so hurt. You just held him closer resting your chin on his head
“No it’s not– I was so mean for no reason- I- I hurt you.” You pull back to look at your brother, tears are rolling down his cheeks now.
“Dustin, you were hurting. You are hurting.” Your voice is soft but stern. “You are grieving the death of one of your really good friends… You did not hurt me. I’m hurting because you are. Because you are my brother Dustin and I worry for you,” You reach up wiping one of his tears from his cheek, feeling your own eyes water. “And I wish I could take your pain away, I wish grief wasn’t so hard but life is unfair, it’s so unfair and I’m sorry Dustin I am.” You feel a tear of your own roll down your cheek. “But you keeping all of your pain and anger inside…” You reach down pointing to where his heart is “bottling it up to try and make it go away isn’t working. It never does. I need you to talk to me… or Steve, or Lucas, or the rest of your friends. Anyone. Get this pain off your chest. You reach up, wiping another tear from your brother's face. The last time you did this Dustin was probably 13 and now he was 17. Too old for his own good you thought.
Dustin hugs you again he’s quiet for a minute… “I will… I will I promise” His voice was quiet, vulnerable. You still wondered what prompted this sudden apology. But you weren’t gonna simmer on it too much, because your brother was still hugging you like his life depended on it.
You stayed quiet for a while, just hugging your brother, slowly rubbing his head. “Do you want to stay and watch a movie with us…? We have pizza and popcorn. And we’d love to have you…” you lean back to look at his face
He contemplates it, then pulls away, wiping his cheeks. “I shouldn’t… I just wanted to apologize to you. You don’t deserve anything I’ve done to you…” he looks down then looks back up at you. “Your head feeling any better…?”
You smile softly. “Yeah… it’s feeling better, thank you Dustin. And I’m serious if you want to stay-“
“It’s okay… I’m…” he thinks for a minute like he was trying to come up with a lie. “I’m going to hangout with the party… Y’know while we’re not busy”
You study his face for a moment and decide not to push it. “Right… okay. I love you Dustin…”
“I love you too sis.” He says and turns to leave. You watch him go, even after the door shuts behind him you stand there staring at the door.
“Everything okay?” Steve’s voice snaps you out of it, and you turn to see Steve standing in the doorway.
“Yeah all good. It’s all good. He uhm.. apologized. But.. I think- I don't know, let's go watch the movie.” You move to walk past Steve but he gently grabs your waist to stop you
“Babe, you know you can talk to me. Right?” He lets his arms snake around your waist, resting his head on your shoulder.
“Of course Steve, but we can talk about this later. I just want to have a nice night with you.” You turn your head to look at him best you could.
“Yeah… okay we can do that. But if you change your mind I’m all ears.” He kisses your cheek then slides around you to be holding you chest to chest. He kisses your lips. “Let’s watch this movie shall we?”
You watch Steve walk towards the living room and you follow. The two of you get comfortable on the couch together and start the movie. It was fine at first but you couldn’t focus on it. About mid-way through you noticed Steve was staring at you. You hadn’t been paying attention to the movie, in fact you had been staring at the wall past the tv.
“You okay…?” Steve asks quietly as to not disturb the peace.
You look down to contemplate how you want to answer his question. Truth was, you couldn’t stop thinking about Dustin. He just seemed so off earlier like he was hiding something, you couldn’t help but worry.
“I’m just worried about Dustin…” You look back up at Steve
“I thought you said he apologized? Did he say something else?” Steve asks gently. He always worries so much for you and your brother. It was endearing.
“Well no… but he was acting strange. Like why the sudden apology? Why wouldn’t he stay and hangout with us? Why did it seem like he was lying about where he was going after he left? I just-... “You cut yourself off trying to think of the right words. “I just don’t feel like he’s actually okay. He might’ve apologized but Dustin’s the type to just do it for my sake so he’s not hurting me. Steve I couldn’t live with myself if he did something stupid, because I wasn’t able to recognize he was still hurting…” your brows are furrowed, and your studying his face for his reaction to see if you could gauge his opinion
Steve was quiet, he was thinking about what you had said, but you mistook his silence. “You think I'm crazy? Am I overthinking this-?”
His hands go up to hold your face, cutting you off. “No… of course not, I don’t think you're crazy. I trust your gut baby. If you think Dustin might do something stupid, then I think we should go check on him. So I’m going to go call the Wheelers to see if Dustin showed up over there, in fact i’ll call around to see where he is if he’s not there. You go upstairs and change.” Steve presses a kiss to your forehead then gets up going over to the phone. You sit there for a moment then get up and head for the stairs so you could change.
You threw on some jeans and a sweater and you were pulling on your shoes when Steve ran up the stairs. “No one's seen him.”
Your heart drops. No one had seen Dustin? “Like at all…? Like what do you mean Steve?” You stand up looking at him. Worry filled your expression, fear that something had happened to your brother.
“Like nobody has seen him since this morning. Lucas said he might be at Eddie’s grave. Let’s check there before we freak-”
You grab up your other shoe and run past him down the stairs.
“-out…” Steve sighs and turns to follow you. You had already grabbed the keys and were heading for his car… your car was still totaled. You were also slipping your shoe on as you went, not letting anything slow you down.
“Hey- no! Let me drive.” Steve said, speeding up his running to catch up with you.
“No can do Stevie get your ass in the passenger seat” You open the driver side door and get in cranking the beamer up. He huffed getting into the passenger seat knowing there was no arguing with you.
The car ride was silent, and you were probably going to fast for it to be safe, but you couldn’t think about that right now.
Steve looked over at you. Your jaw was tight, your hands were white gripping the steering wheel. Steve could see the thoughts behind your eyes, you were thinking of all the things that could’ve happened to Dustin.You nervously tapped your thumb on the steering wheel. The cemetery was coming into view. You pull into the long drive of the cemetery and when you see Dustin you stop the car and throw it into park before jumping out and running over to Dustin.
“What the hell were you thinking!?” You said walking up to Dustin. Steve got out, he didn’t know you were gonna go off like this.
Dustin turned to look at you. “What the hell are you doing here!? Did you follow me!?” Dustin stood from where he was sitting in front of Eddie’s grave.
“Call it intuition! I knew you were lying to me! Was that apology even real or were you lying about that too!?” Dustin looked almost offended by that.
“Of course it was real…” Dustin looked at you, his shoulders fall, losing the tension that was in them. “You thought it was fake?”
“No… Dustin, that's not what I meant… Why did you lie about where you were going…?
You ask softly, the tension leaving your body as well.
Steve notices the street light start to flicker “uhm guys…”
“I didn’t lie- well I guess I did. But! I originally planned to hangout with Mike, Will, and Lucas but then I ended up here.” Dustin’s eyes fall
“You had us worried sick Dustin, we called everyone, and when no one had heard from you I thought… I thought something happened to you, I sped all the way here Dustin. You can’t do that, you can’t just go somewhere without someone knowing about it.”
“Guys seriously! I get that you’re having a moment and all but look!” Steve says, grabbing your shoulders to turn you to face towards the street lights that were flickering.
You and Dustin both look. Flickering lights were never a good sign. Then you heard it, the sound of something running towards y’all. You all look to your right and there it was, two demodogs coming for y’all.
“Oh shit!” You grab Dustin and the three of you take off back to the Beamer, having the keys you get back into the driver's seat. Once Dustin and Steve were in you put it in reverse and hit the gas. The Demodogs are closing in on y’all, luckily you were a pretty good driver that is if you look past the accident–which wasn’t your fault by the way. You started driving down the road, you were going really fast.
“Shit! Go faster they’re gaining on us! You have to speed up!” Dustin screamed, he was turned around in the backseat, watching the Demodogs out the back glass, his walkie was in his hand, he was about to call for help.
“Dustin I can only go so fast without endangering us even more! Let me see if I can shake them!” You saw a turn coming up, you were gonna take it. You could hear Dustin in the background calling a red alert. Steve saw what you were planning.
“Be careful! Don’t do it! Don’t Do it! Slow Down babe!” Steve panicked because while, yes he knew that the three of you needed to get away from these Demodogs, he didn’t want anything to happen to his precious BMW.
You of course didn’t listen to a word he said, and took the turn anyway. Did you slow down? Absolutely not, but you made it. “Steve, calm the hell down! I know how to drive!”
Up ahead there was a road work sign, which meant there was no telling what would be on the other side, a huge pothole? Tools that could pop tires? Wet cement? You look at Steve wondering what you should do
“What do I do?! Steve What do I do!?” You ask looking at him then back at the road.
“I- I don’t know!” Steve looked at you then in the side mirror to see the Demodogs closing in
“You have to go through!!!!” Dustin yelled, turning around to look at the two of you in the front.
That's all you needed, you hit the gas harder blowing through the signs. Unfortunately your theory was correct. There was a huge pothole along with some tools on the other side, which were unavoidable. The front right tire hit the pothole and popped making steering near impossible, you almost ended up in a ditch for a second time that month but you were able to keep y’all on the road.
“Shit! Shit! Shit! What do we do!?” Dustin questioned looking around for some type of weapon.
You scanned the car and the tools outside. You knew there was a lighter in here from where you used to smoke and you also knew Steve had some hairspray in here.
You reach over Steve, opening the dash and pulling everything out until you find the little lighter.
“Steve, where's your hairspray!?” You frantically ask looking at him
“What are you talking about-?” He tries to deny he has it but you’ve seen his hair routine.
“Where’s the damn hairspray!?” You ask again
“Backseat.” He responds
You turn to Dustin and he starts looking for it. He finds it and hands it to you.
“I can hold them off, but you two need to find weapons.” You look at the two boys in front of you. Your brother and your boyfriend. You would die for them.
You turn to get out of the car, you can see the Demodogs. They’re almost close enough to attack.
“Hey! What the hell-!” You close the door before he can continue trying to argue.
You start walking towards the dogs holding up the hairspray and lighter, and as soon as you get close enough you light the lighter and spray the hairspray, the Demodogs start whimpering and try to fight it.
You can hear Steve and Dustin scrambling in the background, you assume Steve is getting his bat out of his trunk and you aren’t sure what Dustin would pick up. All you knew is that you had to give them time.
You could feel the heat of the fire against your hand, it was starting to hurt. Unfortunately one of the Demodogs was able to push through and hit you. You fall to the ground, the lighter and hairspray rolling under the car out of reach.
The Demodog roared in your face, and just as you were about to accept fate Steve knocked it away from you and Dustin helped pull you away.
“What are we gonna do!? We can’t fight these things off!” You say as the three of you are slowly backing away from the Demodogs. Steve was in front of you and Dustin, holding the bat. The Demodogs were trying to recuperate and get back up so y’all hide behind the Beamer, in hopes they wouldn’t find the three of you… You and Steve had Dustin between the two of you, both of you sort of squishing him as if y’all could protect him from what’s to come.
It felt like you were sitting there for ages, hearing the sound of their claws on the concrete slowly getting closer. You close your eyes preparing yourself for the worst.
The sound of tires screeching to a stop then the sound of gunfire floods your ears. The sound of the Demodogs screeching in pain sounds.
Dustin tries to get up and look but you hold him down, you didn’t want him in the crosshairs of this.
After several minutes the gunfire stops. The three of you slowly turn and look over the hood of the car. The Demos had run off, back to where they came from. You see Nancy first, she was holding a large gun, some type of automatic from what you could tell, then there was Mike, Jonathan, Lucas, and Robin. Dustin was up first running over to Lucas and Mike.
“Shit dude I thought we were goners! If you guys hadn't shown up we would’ve been!” Dustin said as he ran over.
“As soon as we heard the code red we got here as fast as we could. We weren’t just gonna leave you guys hanging.” Mike said, patting Dustin on the back. The three of them keep talking, Dustin telling them what happened.
Nancy, Jonathan, and Robin walked over to you and Steve, just as Steve was helping you up.
“What is that? The third car you’ve messed up?” Nancy smirks a little bit teasing you.
“Look! In my defense neither time was my fault. And it’s only two cars. Plus the Beamer will be fine, it just needs a new tire and probably a scratch or two buffed out.” You defend yourself. Steve puts his arms around your shoulders pulling you closer to him.
“Seriously though, are you guys alright?” Robin asks, looking between you two.
“We’re fine, little miss race car driver over here got us this far, before we hit that pot hole there.” Steve points to the massive pothole in the road, which was probably the reason it was blocked off.
“I just can’t figure out why now Vecna sent them after us- well I actually think they were probably after Dustin, but that still poses the question as to why?” you ask and that stumps the group. None of you had an answer.
“Maybe this means we’re getting close… Maybe we’ll find him on the next crawl.” You all looked at Nancy as she spoke. Perhaps that was the case, or perhaps he was distracting y’all from something bigger.
Imagine Luis using the communicator to call you. Constantly.
“Luis? What’s your status?”
“No bueno, my friend. I’m in a lot of pain.”
Your head immediately snaps up at attention to these words. Leon, who answered the call as the device was on his person, shares your look of alarm and nods in understanding to prepare to come to the Spaniard’s aid.
“Where are you?” Leon inquires, maneuvering the communicator between you two so that you can listen in as well. “How serious are your injuries?”
The man on the other line groans, “I’d say pretty serious. Severe, even.”
Filled with worry, you were about to join the line of questioning until his voice cuts you off before you could utter a sound.
“After all… how does one recover from a lonely heart?”
Leon squints, “…What?”
“I am separated from my light- mi luz! Forced to wander these terrifying, dark corridors alone without any source of warmth and comfort!” In the tiny screen, you can see the man waving his arms around with an exaggerated pout on his face. He looked like he was rehearsing a scene of a play or something. Luis notices your face on his end and smiles widely before releasing an over-the-top gasp and calling you by name. “¿Dónde estás, mi luz? I am suffering without you.”
You pinch the bridge of your nose, doing your best to choke down the laugh that was threatening to erupt from your chest. Before reuniting with Leon S. Kennedy, your partner in the mission to retrieve Ashley Graham, you were running around the village with Luis Serra, a man you happened to come across while fighting hordes of infected villagers. Initially, you were suspicious of him, but he proved himself to be a man of good character, chivalrously watching your back and using his intimate knowledge of the area and the terrors that creep within to navigate you both through multiple dangerous encounters.
You and he became close quickly, forging a strong bond during your time together, made easy with the man’s charisma and light-hearted nature. Even in the constant face of danger, Luis would twist the dark ambiance to his playful tune, often making you the muse of his antics if not for the sole purpose to tease a smile upon your face. So what he was doing now was not at all surprising, but the confused and incredulous look upon Leon’s face was priceless.
Just as you were going to point out that it hasn’t at all been that long since you two have separated ways so that you can help Leon relocate Ashley, the blond agent beside you drops the call with a push of a button. He then throws an inquisitive glare your way.
“What?” you ask.
“Do I dare even ask what the hell that was?” Leon shoots back.
You ponder his question for a moment before answering, “Honestly, it’d save you the headache if you didn’t.”
With that, Leon drops the conversation with a sigh before taking the lead to move on. Little did you both know, it wouldn’t be the last time Luis would call.
The second time he calls, he asks how you and Leon were progressing. And just like the first time, Leon answers, reporting that you were busy cracking at a difficult door puzzle while he kept watch.
“Whoever designed this castle was a real asshole,” the agent comments.
“Agreed,” you sigh. “And whoever took the time to reset these puzzles is an even bigger asshole.”
Luis’ voice chimes in through the static. “Perhaps I can be of some assistance? I am a brilliant man, afterall. Let me have a look, por favor.”
Thinking nothing of it, Leon walks over and faces the screen of the comm to you and the door so that Luis can see what you are working on from behind before you reset the puzzle. You then explain how you got stuck and your theories on what the possible solutions could be. While doing so, Luis hums after each pause, his face showing that of absolute concentration. After you finished and a moment of considerable silence passes, you engage him.
“Well?” you ask. “Any thoughts?”
Luis lifts his hand from his stubbled chin, “Just one.” He points at you, his voice lowers to a husky growl.
“You look particularly ravishing from this angle.”
You were grateful that Leon hung up before Luis can see the blush burning hot on your cheeks. After some time, you managed to solve the puzzle and proceed with the mission although Leon was none too happy with the Spanish man for wasting both of your times.
The third time the communication device goes off, you offer to take it from Leon.
“It’s probably him again. Why don’t I handle this one?”
“No,” he denies, shaking his head. “I still don’t trust him and you don’t need the distraction.”
Instead of being offended at your partner practically casting your professionalism into doubt, you reason with him. “C’mon, Leon. It could be serious this time.”
“Highly doubt it.”
However, more time passes and the device is still beeping. The sound echoes off the walls in taunting pings to the gnawing point where it was practically imprinted into your brains. When Leon couldn’t handle it anymore, he sighs in defeat and pushes the button. Again, he doesn’t hand it to you and greets the dark-haired man himself with an irritated frown.
“This better be good.”
“Depends on your definition of “good”, mi compadre.” Luis too wore a grimace, his voice void of his usual humor. “I’ve relocated one of my hidden caches and uncovered the suppressants you will both need to slow the growth of the plaga within your bodies.”
“Well, damn. That sounds like great news to me.” A wave of relief washes over Leon’s face, probably because Luis finally shared something worthwhile. “So what’s the catch, then?”
“Catch is- there are two different kinds of doses. One dose is a simple needle injection. That will be for you, Leon. Pero, the other…” he trails off, eyes casted with a faraway look while the adam’s apple in his throat bobs. Whatever was on his mind seems difficult to swallow let alone speak aloud.
Curiosity evident in Leon’s expression, he prods him further. “What is it, Luis? Is the other dose dangerous to administer?”
“It can be. The application process has a high probability of being rather intensive. For both the receiver and the administrator.”
You join in, “What do you mean?”
It was only until the words left your mouth did you realize what you just waltzed into.
Upon hearing your words, Luis’ expression changes like day and night, the somber frown flipping into a mischievous smirk. “It is nothing you can’t handle, mi amor. I’m certain. Only that it requires you and I to exchange bodily fluids in-“
Never before have you seen Leon hang up so fast, his hand covering his beet red face. You couldn’t tell if it was out of embarrassment, disgust, or fury for falling for the Spaniard’s antics once again and concluded that it was all at once.
“Let’s… ugh… Let’s just keep going.”
You didn’t put up a fight at the order, fighting off your own set of emotions that stirred from Luis’ shameless teasing. However, not even five steps were taken and the walkie talkie beeps. Leon was livid.
“For fuck’s sake, what now?!”
“Catch you at a bad time, Leon?” A deadpan feminine voice comes through the comms and you swear Leon turned several shades paler.
Leon’s “informant” tipped you off on Ashley’s last sighting and you two wasted no time moving to catch up to her. After fighting another wave of plaga, tensions were running high. So when you two were rushing to navigate around the courtyard, the communicator goes off once more and that became the last straw for Leon. Already fuming, he waited to see the Spaniard’s face on the device before verbally popping off.
“Luis, I swear to god. If the reason you’re calling is to talk about how miserable and lonely you are or make some dumb comment on a certain someone’s assets, I am going to literally throw this walkie talkie off the ramparts,” Leon snarled, his frustration unrestrained. “So I dare you, Luis, I fucking dare you to speak. And it better be god damn important!”
For a moment there was only white noise, then a familiar thick accent finally comes through.
“… I was going to say that I can see you two across the courtyard,” the man reports candidly, “and there’s a swarm of monsters coming in at your three o’clock.”
Sure enough, a horde of giant mutated insects were zooming towards you and Leon. Amidst the countless gunshots and death cries of your enemies, you can hear your fellow agent beside you cursing colorfully to the high heavens as well as the sound of hysterical laughter further in the distance.
When it was all over, the communicator was beeping again. Leon didn’t even bother answering. Instead, he tosses the device over to you without so much as a word or making eye contact. The brief exchange almost made you laugh as you press the button and are greeted by a familiar handsome face whose grey eyes lit up instantly at the sight of you.
“I think you broke the poor man,” you say with an amused, pointed look.
The expression you see in the tiny screen was that of feigned innocent confusion. “¿Perdon? Whatever do you mean? I thought I did my due diligence in warning you two of imminent danger.”
Your ears pick up an irritated groan followed by harsh stomps moving away from your position. You can practically imagine smoke coming out of the blond’s ears as he created distance, muttering an excuse that he is going to check the perimeter. If not for your respect for the man, you would have rolled over laughing.
Shaking your head, you return your attention back to cause of your partner’s grief. “Alright. Now that’s it just the two of us. What did you really want to say to me, Luis?”
“Nada,” the Spanish man shrugs, throwing you his signature charming grin. “Just wanted to hear your voice.”
it's that time again for odd jobs. A few spoilers for Costa Del Sol side quests but nothing major
Masterlist
Thank you to everyone who's been patient! This week really got away from me with school closures, work, and a sick kid. It's shorter than normal but I hope everyone enjoys.
*~*
The plan was to head out towards Mount Corel, but moving on required gil, and acquiring such gil means work. So the first day of that week you got to thoroughly enjoy watching Cloud and Aerith, bless her soul, run around on a faux date for three lovely ladies needing inspo for their upcoming swimwear line. He had tried to decline the job, but Aerith was having none of that. Not when she could sink her claws into him and pry out any details of the previous night. Every once in awhile, between pirates rampage and run wild, he’d search for you. Maybe he was wondering if you were watching him too, and when your eyes would meet he was practically begging for your assistance, Gaia only knows the extent of the cetra’s teasing.
And as sick as it sounds, you were enjoying his misery. You got to see his cute pouty face and pink embarrassed cheeks while the attention was off of you for the first time that day. It was short-lived however, when the group made its way out to Clamshell Beach to look for a damn seashell for the last woman.
Aerith claimed she twisted her ankle and insisted that you needed to take her place. Like how?! Everyone was on chocoback!
The look the others shared only confirmed she your suspicions that she was faking, setting you up once again to be alone with the merc. Only this time with an audience.
“So,” you started as the two of you waded through sand, “you think they’ll ever stop staring at us?”
He took a quick peek over his shoulder at your friends. The lot of them were burning holes in the back of your heads like Rufus Shinra’s paparazzi, only they didn’t have a camera to seal the secret moments they assumed you would share. “Doubt it.” His attention returned to the shoreline in front of you. “She's been a pain all day. Especially at pirates rampage. Turns out Barrett has a big mouth.”
“He wasn’t there to see anything though?” Your brows scrunched as you tried to remember when he'd left the two of you there.
“Nosy bastard watched from afar.” You rolled your eyes.
“So they’re all assholes. That’s fantastic.” You chuckled dryly. “So do we pick it out together? Do we bring back two shells? What did she ask for?” You inquired, happy to get this show on the road.
“Didn’t care to listen.”
“That's so like you.” You said with fake enthusiasm as you knocked on his shoulder with your fist.
“Lets just find one.” He quipped with a roll of his eyes.
“Cool. I’ll start looking over there.” You said as you pointed to the left side of the beach. He nodded and headed in the opposite direction, but not far enough away that he couldn't hear you.
You only looked for ten-ish minutes before your temper began to simmer. Your skin itched from the phantom eyes that may or may not be looking at you, meanwhile sweat trailed down the dip in your spine from the sweltering desert sun. You straightened abruptly, so over the unwanted attention, before spying a chain link door bolted into some cliff rock. You took off at a lazy jog passing Cloud as you crossed the beach.
You pulled at the handle with no luck, the frame only rattling against your pull. “Already tried it. Its locked.” You looked over at him with a smirk on your lips.
“You think that’s going to stop me?” His brow raised in question as you turned back to the door. Your hand slithered down your leg and into a pocket alongside your ankle on the inner lining of your boot and fished out a lockpick. You inserted the metal pick and swiveled it around until you felt a minute click as the lock yielded and the door swung open.
“Figures.” You whirled around at him, your hands coming up to sit on your hips, the metal device leaving a slight chill on your heated skin as it was pushed against your hip where your tank rode up.
“You have something to say, blondie?” You challenged.
With a small shake of his head at your ridiculous antics he brushed past you, his shoulder blade knocking against yours as he moved into the secluded beach area. “We got work to do.”
“Yeah, yeah.” You grumbled as you followed him into the circular area. You had an instant sense of relief knowing your five friend audience could no longer see you past the towering cliff walls. Cloud was right though, you had a job to do. So you kept walking after him until you branched off to search the opposite side of the shore.
You noticed this part of the beachfront had far less rubbage laying about than the public access area. Either the owner maintained it well or no one ever visited. You'd like to think it was the former for the sole purpose that someone on this Planet still cared for its environment, though in this day and age it seemed unlikely.
You waded through a few dense patches of sand catching yourself every once in awhile when the soles of your boots slid through the heated granules. You pocketed a couple of darker colored shells with some unique swirl patterns on the outermost layer that reminded you of those lollipops you could get at a carnival. You held one up towards the sky to examine it a bit closer when a ray of light hit the inner cavern just right to illuminate the iridescent shine within it.
“Hey, what about this one?” Cloud called from behind you, his shoes sliding effortlessly through the sand as he made his way to you.
You tucked the one you were holding into your bag then held your palms out for the one he wanted you to see. His gloved fingers brushed against your skin as he deposited the shell in your grasp, and lingered there till you brought it closer to your face. You smiled as you gazed down at its unique shape. It wasn't a shell per say, more like a small twisted piece of coral, but it was unmistakably similar to a chocobo track. “It’s perfect.” You whispered. “Though, is it weird… if I want to keep it?” You peered up at him shyly through your lashes, your heart skipping a beat as you waited with bated breath for his answer.
He turned his head towards the sea, suddenly interested in the rolling waves crashing into the sand, and his hand coming up to scratch at the back of his neck, giving away he was also experiencing some nerves. “Keep it.” He side eyed you before crossing his arms over his chest. “Who gives a shit what we give them.”
Was it intended as a gift from the start or were you just looking for a deeper meaning. You couldn't think of anything to say, or ask, when your cheat in your chest was warmer desert air? "You two done?!” Barret’s booming baritone echoed off the alcove walls. “Sick ‘o waitin’!”
“Piss off!” Cloud called back without missing a beat. He stalked across the land to rejoin the others anyway leaving you to do whatever you wanted with the miniature talon. You decided to tuck it into your pocket, after all the woman probably wouldn't see the significance of its shape, and started to jog after him, leaving the moment behind to be swept up by the sea.
He didn't say anything, but it didn't go unnoticed that you gave Aerith a darker rounder shell to give to the woman, and for whatever reason that made him happy.
*~*
You've never had siblings, at least that you are aware of, so you suppose Yuffie is the closest thing you'll ever experience to a younger sister. Over the course of the next two days the ninja took a particular liking to you and was nearly up your ass the entire time except for the few moments she was torturing Cloud, and between us, you expected him to snap like the remaining threads of a fraying rope very soon.
You've never actually met a Wutain ninja before. You had expected them to be quieter and less predictable. but something told you this was an exclusive trait that only Yuffie possessed. The sad thing is, she's actually really talented if only she could stop blowing her cover and lose the element of surprise. She was fast, her attacks were timed right, and she excelled in elemental materia use. If only she’d stop talking.
Which brings you to her screw up, and the next two days of trying to fix it. You were appreciative that she helped you rescue everyone from Hojo’s deranged kidnapping attempt, however her doppelganger technique now reaped havoc for your group in the form of three Johnny clones.
The first one you found on accident while collecting data for Chadley near an abandoned village near a swamp. The crimson haired man waved his arms frantically over his head and started yelling your name to your discomfort. You spend one night in a bathing suit and suddenly he's obsessed with you. Anyway, the dummy was out here looking for an attraction for the hotel and he thought the fabled King Tonberry’s crown was the perfect artifact for his place. An amused snort passed through your nose as you pictured the way his fight against the fearsome fiend would pan out. Cloud wasn't interested in helping him, even if he would pay his fee, but after Yuffie’s unrelenting insistence -whining- he reluctantly agreed, but only if you happen to run into it.
You quickly learned that wasn't the end, as two more identical idiots nearly plowed you over if it weren't for your quick instincts and nimble footwork, as they ran in hysteria from the fiends that attacked them at the base of Costa Falls. Anyone with two brain cells would think to run back into town, not away from it, though clearly they must be sharing a singular light bulb among all clones, and possibly the original. You had to commend his bravery though, not many people could gather the courage to come out here and search for materials on their own. You thought the hotel was a decision he made on a whim, but maybe he really did want to succeed for once.
So you followed Yuffie’s lead and searched. You trekked through the warm rocky shallows, and among the low piers and high bridges gathering abandoned materials and taking out the fiends that lurked around the area until the sun just started its descent. The only the thing left was to return the supplies, and after hours of listening to four Yuffies, cause if there are more of her the job would be done quicker or so she said, you were in no mood to go back to town and converse with more Johhnys so you made a suggestion for the group to split in two, and then reconvene in the morning. Yuffie, Aerith, and Tifa volunteered to return to Costa Del Sol while the rest of you made camp here for the night.
Your mood shifted instantly as soon as the girls were out of sight. No more chattering ninjas in your space, and no Aerith breathing down the back of your neck. As much as you care for her, you were so tired of having all of your interactions picked apart and analyzed for any sign of romantic feelings or lack thereof. You were sick of her smothering you.
The four of you that remained split apart the tasks to set up for the night. Barret and Red utilized the gazebos as shelter by laying down the sleeping rolls. You pulled out ingredients, all dry since you couldn’t travel efficiently with a cooler, and whipped together a stew from the canned broth and dried meats. Leaving Cloud to stake out the perimeter, and to take out any fiends he deemed a threat.
As soon as you let Barret and Red know dinner was ready when they wanted it, you stripped your shoes off and grabbed your bag from the pile and snuck off towards the roaring twin waterfalls.
You ambled down the sturdy wooden steps and onto the hard uneven stone beneath the water, inhaling sharply at the contrast between the hot air and chilly water. You leisurely followed the edge of the plateau occasionally dipping your toes over the side from to see if you could tempt the little fish swimming, until you reached the base of the falls. You marveled in the beauty of it.
A mist kissed your heated skin as the current tumbled over the cliffs, and the sound of the water crashing over the rocks blocked out everything else, and for the first time since Junon you finally felt alone. Most people would question why you felt a sense of relief when alone, thinking that surely you must get lonely, but you didn't think the two were one and the same. All your formative years were spent under a microscope looking for some extraordinary talent or trained eyes on your perfect posture, flawless skin, and of course your clients. After the unfortunate events that ended your jockey career you were finally released from the chains that bound you, and with no family or friends to root you to a specific region you were free to wander from place to place to your heart's desire. If you got lonely you’d make your way back to Bill’s ranch to fill the yearning then you’d leave when you were ready. The Woodlands held a special place in your heart, and you've come to think of them as your home. Even when the ranch was right there you spent you more time sleeping under the treetops spending weeks at a time to study chocobos in the wild.
So these nearly five weeks with Avalanche is the longest you’ve ever gone without a days peace. Not that you haven't enjoyed your new colorful friends, but you always felt more yourself when you were surrounded by nothing but the Planet’s beauty soaking up every flicker of an ember that crackled within you. The whispering wind smelled fresher, the roaring current pulled harder along the river, the bristle of the grass on your skin was softer. In a world full of materia and mako it was easy to look over the true magic Gaia held within its’ crust, and you swore it called to you everytime you were quiet enough to hear it.
You pulled the straps of your satched over your head and clipped it to the belt loops if your shorts before you started to scale the cliff, being careful to avoid the slick mossy surfaces as you neared the lip. You stopped at a nice grassy plateau nestled in between each waterfall and carefully lowered the canvas bag onto the squishy earth before dropping onto your butt next to it. You carefully pulled out all of the delicate dried herbs and other ingredients, laying them in the order you'd need them in front of you, before you buckled down to work. You hadn't had time to refresh your medicine supply in some time, and while you’ve purchased some from shops here and there they were nowhere near effective as yours.
You lost track of time as you combined potions, made of gold dust, phoenix draft, smelling salts, and just a hint of numinous ashes to give it that extra bought of energy, or a variety of chewable tablets for afflictions, and illness, and most importantly specialized treats for the chocobos you’ll meet (and Red probably). You were so focused on your task you hadn't noticed the sun sinking lower in the sky until shadows crept between the tall trees and began to cast shade over your work area.
Just as you packed the last of your things away the grass behind you crunched under the weight of heavy feet. The edges of your lips curl up softly as your visitor shifts onto the ground, their back pressing against your own. You'd heard him faintly as he climbed up here, but his earthy undertones is what truly gave him away. You fastened the bag, and set it off to the side then leaned your own weight into him, your head laying against his shoulder as you looked up at the first few stars that came out.
“Not like you to leave your sword behind.” You chimed into the breeze.
“Guess you’ll have to take point.” You chuckled.
“Freeloader.” You swear you hear a subtle snort before it was covered up with a wry ‘ha ha’. He shuffled behind you, his weight leaning a bit more against you, and you caught his hand inching towards yours from your peripheral until the tips of his fingers wrapped over yours. He wasn't wearing his gloves, you noted, as his warm and soft soft skin rubbed against yours. Your heart fluttered slow but deeply behind your ribs, the feeling caused warmth to spread your chest to all of your extremities with each beat. You hoped whatever future was in the stars for you that it included nights like these with him.
Tonight felt like a dream with the cicadas singing in the distance, and the crickets chirping in the tall grass around you. The only thing missing was the gentle glow of hundreds of fireflies where your entangled feelings were born. You missed the Woodlands dearly, but right now cozied up to him and wrapped in the Planet’s beauty it almost felt like home.
“Can I ask a question?” You murmured.
“Shoot.”
“Was being a soldier everything you thought it’d be?” The question had lingered in your mind for some time now. He was always so adamant that he was an ex-soldier, so it got you wondering if he had regretted his decision.
“Not really.” He paused as he looked above, the soft spikes of his hair tickled against your naoe as he moved. “The war was over by the time I enlisted. It was mostly grunt work.”
“I see.” You felt like there might be more to that story, but for now you were content. “For what it’s worth, they didn’t deserve you.” You hadn't expected an answer but smiled nonetheless when he grunted in response.
The two of you stayed there hand in hand until the last bit of the burning orange disappeared from the horizon leaving blended streaks of purple and blue across the sky. You were increasingly thankful for the heat that radiated from his body as the desert air cooled to a brisk chill.
“Did she, ever hurt you?”
You scoffed, in your mind in was absurd to even ask. Hes met her, been used by her. “Yes.” You had planned to leave it at that, but perhaps his question wasn't exactly what he was asking. Maybe the whole point of asking was to create a connection, establish trust, and isn't that what you've decided you wanted? “Nothing that’d leave a scar. ‘An unappealing woman wasn’t suited for a girl of my position.’ She’d say, like any dumbass in Wall Market would complain.”
“Did you-” he started but quickly stopped, the hesitation very evident as he fumbled for words. “What was your… ‘position’?”
You whipped around and leaned around his shoulder bewildered at the implications of his question. No way that straight laced Mr. Strife could be asking such a thing, but the blotchy red staining his ears and down his neck confirmed your suspicions. “Cloud Strife, are you asking me if I was a prostitute?” A sly smirk curled across your lips at the embarrassment etched into his facial features, and for a moment you thought he was going to leave until his eyes met yours and he put two and two together. He scoffed loudly as he barked out a ‘fuck off’ and stared at one of the falls.
“It’s a valid question I suppose.” You stood up and stretched out, a sigh of relief worked through your lips as your back cracked softly after being hunched over for so long. “I was never expected to put out, but seducing people was a large part of my description along with running the parlor." You paused briefly, as the need for transparency dug its hold into you. "While we’re talking about it, I guess I should tell you that I also helped out Andi at the Inn.” You felt his eyes land on you as he took in this new information. His face was as blank as it was when you'd met him, unreadable. “However, I was strictly a dancer, that did the occasional escort. I always joked that I was lethal arm candy.”
He stood back up and brushed the dirt from the back of his thighs. Sure he had the world's greatest poker face, but his eyes showed the war that was waging in his head, one moment hard and guarded the next soft and sullen. You took the moment to reach for your bag still on the ground, anything to escape his piercing gaze, but his much bigger hand cupped yours before snatching the strap from your grip and slinging it over his shoulder. “We should get back.” The air felt tense now. Every step he took away from you felt like a rift growing between you, and you nearly reached out to him. You would have if he hadn't turned back to you, his eyes now soft and warm, his hand outstretched in a silent invitation.
“Yeah.” You agreed lamely as you let your hand be enveloped in his as he led you towards the cliff. Another wicked idea popped into your head, and you couldn't resist the urge to fuck with him. Your thumb slid down to the soft spot on his palm and applied a bit of pressure in a circular motion into his skin. “Speaking of Madam M,” His narrowed gaze flicked over to you, his brow cocked in suspicion as you applied a bit more pressure. The grunt that rumbled through his chest shot molten heat straight to your core. “I heard you enjoyed her services.” He ripped his hand from yours as an agonizing groan filled the air and lit your heart on fire, the laughter that spilled from your lips made your lungs burn so bad you hunched over.
Little did you know that Barret could hear your laughter back at camp, and could see your silhouettes walking side by side. “Damn kids.”
*~*
What was the key to a good workout? Well, step one would be not to watch the pretty girl doing stretches beside his childhood friend. He only looked over for one second, and the moment you leaned down to touch your toes his concentration went right out the door. Your flexibility was astounding. He could only imagine the length you must have gone to stay that limber, and he had to wonder how else you you could utilize this skill.
He was ashamed to even think it, but Cloud was finding it a bit too easy to get ‘pumped up’. He had thought the fiends would be the biggest nuisance for the day, or Yuffie, not how he had to conceal his interest in you in front of not only your friends who were extremely observant, but an entire gym full of body buffs who were also eyeing you up. He wanted to bully himself behind you to shield you from their leering gaze, instead he settled to give anyone close a death glare until they became uncomfortable and left the area.
And then Tifa’s match started, and you caught him off guard once again. Until now you have been more a wallflower, quiet and observant from the sidelines, but this last week, since Costa Del Sol, he's noticed you were putting in more effort to be present. You joined more of the group discussions at meal times or put in your two cents when forming tactical plans. You were more forthcoming about the extent of your skill set, and even started training with Yuffie, giving her a few tips and tricks here and there. It’s almost as if you’ve finally allowed yourself the privilege of companions instead of keeping locking yourself away behind walls that were built to deny yourself friendship and love.
He didn’t want to admit it, because he enjoyed seeing you be happy, but he found himself feeling miffed that he had to share your attention with everyone now. Just days ago your sassy comebacks were for his ears only, now you're targeting Barret for everyone’s entertainment or taking quick jabs at Aerith for payback. There were some moments that felt reserved for him, like the other night, or today when you offered to help him prepare lunch, but it just isn't enough for him. He wasn't sure what bothered him more: the lack of attention or the fact that he actually craves you and it pisses him off that you haven't noticed.
“Damn, Tif, you’re so hot!” Your voice rattled inside his head as his hands clenched into fists at his sides. This shouldn’t bother him. He knew it was all friendly fun, but he’s literally right here. If you wanted to look at someone, shouldn't it be him? Why haven't you even glanced at him yet?
“What she said!” Aerith chimed in right after you while Yuffie cackled in delight.
A meaty hand slapped down on his shoulder interrupting his slow spiral into pure green jealousy, “Watch it, Spikey. Tifa's gonna steal yo girl.”
Cloud jerked his arm from the hulking man and scoffed. “As if.” His foul mood persisted, however, he felt the edges of his mouth twitching to curl as an idea formed in his head while those two little words played on repeat. His girl. His.
He stuffed his hands into his pockets, and weaved through the gathered audience until he was beside you. He wrapped a hand around your bicep, giving it a gentle tug to get your attention, and when those gorgeous e/c orbs were on him he cocked his head in the direction of the exit. You quirked a brow as if you were trying to say ‘now, really?’, but you turned and whispered something to Aerith before you followed him to the door. He walked the length of the building quickly then rounded the corner to be well out sight before he turned on you, your eyes widening as he backed you up into the siding and crashed his lips into yours before you could even question him.
This was nothing like your first kiss. This one was the remnants of the embers you kindled weeks ago in Junon, and fueled by his intense desire just to be near you. It was all of his frustration and impatience from moment he had his first taste, and now he’s not sure how he ever managed to survive without it. Without you.
His forearm came up to brace his weight against the stone wall behind you as you melted against him, his other moving up to cup your jaw. He angled your chin upwards, just a hair, so he could slip his tongue between your lips as they parted in the prettiest gasp he's ever heard. His heart slammed against his chest as your hands twisted into his shirt and your body molding to his like it was always meant to be here there. His hand slipped from your face in favor of winding into the silky tresses of your hair. He dominated the kiss leaving no room for you to toy with him, his tongue brushing against yours like you were the sweetest treat, only pulling away when his lungs burned from the lack of air.
His forehead rested against yours as he studied the look on your face, wanting to remember it for every second he had left on this planet. Your cheeks were rosy and eyes were hazy as you panted heavily, your chest brushing against his with every inhale. The scent of vanilla left him feeling foggy and his eyes settled on the slope of your perfect lips. His fingers trailed back to brush against the wet shine on your bottom lip, before placing one more peck on them as the crowd inside cheered for Tifa’s victory.
He couldn't contain the smug smirk that spread across his face as he looked at his handy work, and before you could even inquire about what had just occurred he decided to pull away and make his way back inside to rejoin the others like nothing had happened. At least now he could guarantee he was on your mind now.
He caught Barret shaking his head out of the corner of his eye, the hulking brute more observant than he seems. Cloud only shrugged, before crossing his arms over his chest once more now content with today’s job, and ready for tomorrow’s grueling trek up Mount Corel.
*~*
So I originally had some more pining before the first smut scene, but an idea popped in my head for the Golden Saucer coming up. What do you guys think? Should the longing continue or is everyone getting thirsty? Leave a comment!
Hello!! Sorry if I'm late, but congratulations on graduating high school! Can I request Jeff the killer x fem reader. Where Jeff thought the reader was another weak victim but then ended up getting his butt kicked by her. Slow burn since the reader doesn't trust him. Tyy ❤️ hope you get into the colleges/university you want!!
awwwww thank you!! Everyone of y’all are really too sweet, I really appreciate you all 🥰
!Split between Headcanons and fic? I hope that’s ok? And I might do I part 2? Where he confesses ofc ofc ????
Jeff the Killer x Reader who beat his ass
Bro, he just wanted a kill
that was it
but no
jk jk, I support readers beating Jeff’s ass
he snuck in one night, hoping to get in a quick kill and steal some money
he was running a little low on money and he owed BEN some
and your apartment just happened to be there
sneaking in, Jeff could hear the tv running
there you were, sitting in the small living room with a bowl of cereal in hand
Quick and easy, slit your throat from behind and be done
but no
he approaches, you turn around and throw the bowl at him
”BITCH WHAG THE FUCK”
he’s angry, ofc
tries to kill you
Epic fail
You beat him up
Small little fic under the cut
Jeez, there was nothing good on TV. You scrolled through channels mindlessly, eventually ending up on some cheesy horror movie. You sat and ate a bowl of cereal, eyes glued to the TV. Completely unaware of the cheap Joker knock-off breaking through your front door.
Jeffrey was in desperate need of a little bit of cash. He owed BEN, who was getting impatient with Jeff about the money. So, what’s the plan? Break into a random apartment, kill a victim or two, steal the money, and pay BEN back. Simple, right?
Wrong. Very, very wrong.
Breaking in was easy enough, picking the lock and making sure to stay quiet. Jeff had done this plenty of times, he was an expert. He glanced around the little walkway, noting the shoes thrown about and keys on the table by the door. The TV caught his attention however. You were awake, which could prove an obstacle for him. Oh well, no matter.
Stalking into the apartment, Jeff grabbed his favorite knife. Quickly going to slit your throat, he was not ready for what came next. Something wet hit is face, along with small pellets? Then, a large bowl smacked him square in the forehead.
“Oh what the hell?!” He swore out, not paying attention to you running off. He looked at the ground, seeing milk and cereal everywhere. You threw a fucking bowl of cereal at him?!? What the hell?!?!
You heard him come in the moment he began to mess with your locks. Preparing the milk assault, you were ready for him. You dashed off, sprinting to your room to grab a small army knife and slip out the window. A fire escape would be easy and maybe you wouldn’t have to fight this guy head on.
Spilling into your room, you grabbed the knife sitting in your nightstand before whipping around. The man, maybe 6 feet tall, stood in the doorway, knife held tightly.
“You do not know who you’re messing with,” he threatened. Getting a good look at his face, a small chuckle left you. That pissed him off even more.
“Why do serious?” You asked, laughing. This joker knock-off really wanted to threaten you? Bitch please, you were just going to make fun of him. Not another word was spoken as he charged at you, knife held high. You dodged and ran out of the room, heading toward the front door. He yanked your hair back just as you turned the corner.
“Got anymore jokes?” His smile grew impossibly wider.
“Yeah, yeah I do,” a shadow covered your face, “I’m Batman.” You dropped your voice low, a smirk making its way to your face. You stomped on his foot, wiggling free. You took off once more, throwing open the front door. Running out the door, you jumped down the stairs and sprinted across the parking lot to your car. Finally turning around, the killer was no where in site. What the fuck?
A few hours later and the police had swept your small apartment. No trace of the killer was found, but a destroyed apartment that would take hours to clean up. The police got your statement and left, which left you alone to pick up the cereal and milk. You were angry, of course, and slightly afraid. Would he return? With a vengeance? You giggled at the word “vengeance”, remembering the Batman references you made.
The premium version of human is here to wreck house, mfs.
Chp.2
[TwstxObeyme!AFAB!reader]
Whoa.. 😳
Thanks for the feedback, likes and reblogs guys~ It really makes me happy that my hard work is appreciated😊
Guys, what gender should my story's Yuu be in? It's quite hard to refer to two different characters with both gender neutral pronouns 😅
READ FIRST; PROLOGUE:1
• • • •
Again; Pronouns used to refer to MC are blue, because MC will be mistaken for a guy a lot.
SYNOPSIS:
With the Opening Ceremony going off the rails for a second time, MC is more than eager to get back home and probably binge-watch their stress away with their emotionally-repressed boys.
Though with the current situation right now, they don't think that will be happening soon.. Oh well, at least they're not the only otherworldly outlier here... *Nightbringer flashbacks intensifies*
$o|0m°N?
On the other hand, Yuu makes a new friend.
Yuu doesn't know if this makes them a problematic person or not, but Yuu is happy that there's someone else in a similar predicament as them in this strange world, even if it meant that their new companion also had to be kidnapped by a problematic school/lowkey-highkey a cult to be here as well.
But of course, there's trouble in the horizon as the whole fiasco in the mirror ceremony caused the students of NRC to keep a close and careful gaze onto the MC. I'm talkin' from but not limited to; The Fish Mafia, Queen of hearts and Evil queen Incarnates, even down to your perfectly normal 500+ year old war-veteran that looks like a child.
Meanwhile, The Devildom, Human world, and The Celestial realm are feeling a sense of something foreboding in the air... It's probably nothing though.. right?......right?? The calm before the storm. Or the calm before anyone barges into MC's room.
Prologue: 2 Electric-boogaloo
Watching the mysterious and somewhat confused-looking student continuously dodge Riddle and Azul's spells with a calm expression, sharp gaze and a frightening precision, Lilia is waiting for the perfect time to jump in.
Preferably when the student ran in front of him so that he could tackle him to the ground.
Crowley isn't doing anything but screech. Again.
Haah....
• • • •
Azul's smile widens when this ever mysterious new student blocks Riddles' Signature spell by quickly spinning his fancy staff into a make-shift shield once again. what an interesting staff, transforming from a necklace into a cane that can be used for offense and defense..
Azul straight up grins he can see Schoenheit's smile and Kingscholar's shit-eating smirk from here, as well as hear Shroud's maniacal giggles when Riddle screeches at the student to just cooperate and that "NO WE ARE NOT A CULT!!!!" "That's what cults always say!"
Prompting a round of laughter from the useles– *ehem* new students in the hall. How annoying..
What an amusing lad.. Though, Azul wonders.. can all his other jewelry transform as well? Besides the earrings, choker, necklace and forehead ornament that he's wearing, the student also has a ring in his middle finger and in both of his ring fingers, a wide bracelet, and even some bangles in his ankles.
And if all of those jewels can transform into something?....Ohhh, then he really needs to get his hands on them asap.
Seeing Lilia gearing up to jump the student, Azul shifted a bit and tried to lead the student closer to Lilia.
Help idk how to describe shit💀
You click your tongue as you got surrounded by Mr. bird-bitch, that red-mf, Solomon-but-from-wish, Columbina's cousin, lion-dude, "I'm a bad-bitch with a sad past" guy, and a floating tablet.
You ended up getting bound by the bird-bitch's whip the moment you tried to leap off a window in your belphie-escaping-his-responsibilities style. Your pact mark of pride flickered, and Lucifer wonders what MC could be dreaming about for their pride to have taken a hit at this time of the night.
You turned your staff back into a necklace by then, so you couldn't really block the whip and that redhead's spell from hitting you.
You had socked Walmart-Solomon in the face though when he sneakily tried to take one of your bangles while you were being yanked back from the window. Satan stirred in his sleep, feeling but not registering the creeping irritation under your skin.
So now you're here, with a collar for your troubles and a whip locking your arms to your body.
You're just about to resentfully summon Lucifer or something when the redhead who collared you with this uncomfortable fugly-ass neckwear started lecturing you and shit about etiquette and how disrespectful you are for trying to leap out the window and how you should be honored to be there blahblahblah—
Hell no. You ain't letting this short-pimp talk to you like this. (You should really stop hanging around too much with Asmo. Or Levi when he's being a hater on the internet.)
Satan stirred once again, starting to rouse from his slumber as he felt your irritation start to turn into embers of anger.
Lucifer furrows his brows, feeling a rush of indignity that can only have come from you. But why? Weren't you in bed? He hasn't felt you leave through any of the detection barriers he'd set up around your room so you should still be inside, right?
"I think it's much more disrespectful to have your fuckin horses kidnap someone straight from their goddamn bed just to attend a little ceremony they've never even heard of."
You narrow your eyes as you see the bird-man and goons look taken aback in varying degrees of obviousness. (A figure near the mirror perked-up; 'Maybe this person is in a similar situation as them!')
Bruh, what the fuck did they expect??
• • • • •
The Vice-prefects of all seven dorms have led the new students out of the Ceremony hall, leaving behind the five (sorry Mal. Also, Jamil's ass definitely dragged Kalim out with him.) dorm leaders with the headmaster to solve the issues of the sTiLl-uNdEr-tHe-efFecTs-oF-tHe-teLepoRtaTioN-sPelL new student who utterly refuses to cooperate with them.
Riddle is about to combust, Leona wants to go back to bed only to be dragged back by the headmaster—, Vil wants his beauty sleep but was dragged back by that petty bitch, Leona—, While Idia and Azul decided to stick around for their own personal reasons. ("He looks like an anime character—" "Brother, I don't think it's good to be taking pictures of someone without permission—" "AHH–! O-ORTHO?!")
While Yuu is.. hiding behind the mirror.
(The kinda-silver haired guy seems to be in his seventh ritual of making sure his face didn't get bruised from the solid right hook to the face he got.)
(Yuu would've felt bad for him if the guy didn't have such a shady smile on his face while he was massaging his punched jaw.)
Meanwhile...
"Oy human, it's me!"
Mammon knocked on MC's door, fully intent on bothering their sleep and cozying up on their bed again.
He waited for a few seconds, no answer.
He knocked again.
No answer.
... Look, it's not like The Great Mammon is worried or anything but this is strange..
The human always answers their door after a knock or two even if it's the middle of the night.
... Dammit.
Mammon is full of grumbles as he consciously sharpens his senses, tryna sense his the human.
They better not be ignoring him or he'll–
Wait.
What? W- wait a second..
• • • •
The quietness of the night in the House of Lamentation vanished as the sound of a door being busted down rang out.
It's other residents could barely even register the sound before a shout rang out. A shout that sent dread right into their cores.
"MC?!"
← Pr. 1 | Chapter List | Prologue 3 →
'What the?! Why can't I summon them??'
Elae: Hehe~ I'm back with some food~
Thanks for reading this far, I hope you enjoyed this chapter😊
