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junkdrawerfics · 2 months

Note

hello!! i had a request for jasper, if that’s ok? i was thinking about him with an entirely oblivious reader. alice knows they’re meant to be together, and just cannot fathom how reader is this clueless to jasper’s flirting? LMAO esp with that southern charm and the fact that he’s actually talking to someone outside of his family 😭 just know id be blissfully unaware that man’s even interested even if he was breathing down my neck and his family is practically tearing their hair out atp 😭

Jasper Hale X Reader

Summary: You're oblivious. That's it. And it drives the Cullens (+ Bella) crazy. Jasper has to take a far more direct approach to get through to you.

Word Count: 1846

Note: I hope this works for what you were requesting! It was a fun write, I always like playing with different perspectives and even writing scenes without the reader directly in it.

---

“Anyone would think they’re dating,” Alice sighs in exasperation.

Bella follows the vampire’s gaze, noticing you and Jasper standing close together at your car. You’re gesturing wildly, eyes wide, excitement pouring off of you like usual. And Jasper’s just listening, a soft smile on his lips, one she’s only ever seen when the blond’s with you.

“Most of the school does,” she corrects, shoving her hands in her pockets, “Jessica brings it up all the time and Angela says she had to fight Eric to keep it out of the paper.”

Alice snorts softly, the sound somehow delicate. The humans love gossiping about their family, a fact that is unchanging wherever they go. She’s heard more than a few rumors about the two of you, and Jasper probably has too. You, however, remain blissfully unaware.

In her entire century of life, she had never met someone so completely oblivious.

“Does she know he’s flirting with her?” Bella asks, her brow furrowing as Jasper tucks a strand of hair behind your ear while you just keep talking a mile a minute, totally unphased. You, the girl who gets flustered at the drop of a hat with everything else.

“Oh, absolutely not,” Alice chirps matter-of-factly, “She has no clue that he likes her. It’s kind of sweet. But also maddening.”

“You’ve seen something about them?”

“Of course I have.” She sighs again, shaking her head. “It’s not even that, though! I don’t need a vision to know they’re perfect for each other. They’re both absolutely smitten with each other, but she’s even more oblivious than you.”

“Hey-!”

Jasper chuckles under his breath. You pause, head tilting as you follow his flickering gaze to the two girls standing at the other side of the lot. Alice has her hands propped on her hip, a smirk adorning her features as Bella turns impossibly red.

Curiosity washes over you. Eagerly, you whip back to Jasper. “What are they talking about?”

“Bout you and me it seems, and they’re arguin’ about how…observant Bella is,” he murmurs, amusement clear in his tone.

You blink, pursing your lips a little, “They were talking about us?”

“They were just wonderin’ if we are goin’ to the fall festival,” he lies smoothly. Jasper has no desire to expose you to the ugly rumor mill of this town. “What do you say, darlin? Want to go with me?”

“Yes! Yes, I’d love to! I’ve been thinking about that all week!” You squeak, confusion disappearing just like that.

The smile you give him is so bright, so genuine, it could cripple a weaker man. The blond has to bite his tongue, though, the desire to lean down and kiss you pulling at his chest viciously. He wants to see if your smile tastes as sweet as it looks…

“We could see if they want to join us!” You continue, clapping your hands like a little kid. “Maybe that’s why they were talking about us. Oh, it’d be so fun to go as a group!”

The groan from across the parking lot is audible even to you.

---

“Gaaaahhh-”

Your groan gets cut off when you flop onto your bed and land face first in your fluffy comforter. It practically swallows you whole, you almost wish it would.

Bella watches, lips curling in amusement as she gently drops her backpack down and perches herself at your desk, “Jasper again?”

“-e’s su niiithee,” you whine, voice muffled.

“Try again.”

You turn over on your back, pouting at the ceiling, “He’s so nice.”

“He is.” Bella draws her knees up to prop her chin on and waits. The rant is inevitable.

“No, like, he’s so nice. You don’t understand, Bells.” You throw your arms in the air, letting them fall to the bed dramatically. “I’ve never met someone who’s just so nice. And he’s so pretty and charming and sometimes I just wish I could jump on him and hold on like a koala.”

“You could,” she points out, not missing a beat.

Propping up on your elbows, you can’t help but gasp at her, cheeks going positively red, “No I can’t! That would totally freak him out!”

“I think he’d like it more than you think.”

“Oh my gosh.” Your hands fly to your face, as if covering it will stop the blush from spreading down your neck. “You’re so mean to me, Bells. So crude.”

Bella snorts, “That’s not crude. And you’re oblivious.”

“Hello!” You yelp, sitting up. “Kettle calling the pot black!”

“It’s the other way around, actually.”

“Oh whatever,” you sigh, flopping back down. Your thoughts are always a mess when it comes to Jasper, and everyone teasing you like this doesn’t help. It’s easy when you’re with him, you kind of just forget about it all. He’s your best friend, afterall. A frown pulls at your lips. “And I’m not oblivious. We’re just really close friends. I think I’d know if he liked me or something…”

Bella has never been so close to strangling someone.

---

Eventually, a Cullen family meeting has to be held about the issue, despite Jasper’s reluctance.

“She’s clueless,” Bella groans, dropping onto the couch next to Edward.

Emmett snickers from his seat with Rosalie, “I thought we already knew that?”

“We did.” Alice sighs as if she’s mourning the thought. “But we’re afraid it’s worse than we originally thought. The girl is hopeless.”

“She is not,” Jasper chides, lingering on the edge of the group. A part of him doesn’t like having his family in the middle of this. It’s his relationship, or lack thereof. He hates feeling infantilized.

“Hush, Jasper.” Alice waves him off, earning a scowl from the blond. “You’re hopeless in your own ways. This is about (Y/n).”

“So what should we do?”

Jasper forces himself to take a long, calming breath. They mean well, he knows that. They always do. But their methods are usually far too…exaggerated. He might have considered asking for Esme’s advice, perhaps even Carlisle, but not Emmett, and most certainly not Alice. This is his decision to make, and he needs to go about it in his own way.

“Oh! Maybe we can hire someone-”

“That won’t be necessary,” he interrupts, cutting off whatever wild plan Emmett has concocted, drawing the family’s attention to himself. Jasper straightens up, giving them all a pointed look, “This is my business, and I will be taking care of it as I see fit. Thank you for your concern, but it is unnecessary.”

“What are you going to do, honey?” Esme speaks her first words of the evening, voice gentle and unassuming as always.

The blond softens, giving her a faint smile, “I’ll be straight with her.”

“But-”

“Stay out of it, Alice.” The little ravenette pouts, though her eyes dance with excitement. A little push was all he needed, it seems. “It won’t do me any good if she learns of my feelings from one of you. It needs to be me. Even if I have to lay myself out plain for her to see.”

“If you’re sure that’s what you want, son,” Carlisle hums, relieved to take a step back. He wasn’t a fan of this plan from the start.

“It is.”

And it’s true. At one point, it didn’t feel like he had much control of his life, but now he does. And now he has you. It may just be a ‘matter of time’ thing, according to Alice’s vision, but he wants to do this right, at his own pace.

Now, it’s just a question of how.

---

“Darlin…can we talk?”

“We are talking,” you giggle, writing down another formula.

“I mean a more serious talk.”

You blink, looking up from your chem textbook to meet a pair of nervous, gold eyes. Nervous? Jasper is nervous? Your brows furrow, concern immediately sparking in your chest.

“Is everything okay?” You ask, notes forgotten and thrown to the side. You can always study later. “What’s up, Jasper?”

“Everythin’s alright, just-” Jasper settles on the bed in front of you. He keeps a respectable distance, but reaches across to take your hand in his. You freeze. Eyes wide, you can’t stop yourself from staring at it. Your hands. Together. He’s holding your hand. Why is he holding your hand?

“Darlin?”

“Huh?” Oh right. You drag your gaze back up to him, catching a flicker of an amused smile on his lips. A blush creeps up your neck and you smile apologetically. “Sorry, sorry, um, what’s up?”

“I have something important to tell you,” he explains, thumb brushing over your knuckles in a way that is far too distracting.

It helps calm your racing heart, though, because a part of you is terrified. You have no clue what he could possibly want to talk about that would warrant such seriousness. Unconscious, you end up holding your breath, waiting for him to continue.

“I like you, darlin.”

What?

You pause. Process. Confusion swirls through your concern.

“I like you too, Jazz, you’re my best friend,” you chime, tone completely lost and befuddled.

An incredulous laugh breaks past Jasper’s wall of nerves. The tension drips from his shoulders. It’s ridiculous. So ridiculous that he feels like he can finally say everything he’s ever wanted to say.

“I’m ‘fraid you don’t understand, darlin,” he hums, giving you one of those gorgeous, slanted grins that make your heart melt. And the way you cock your head at him, eyes doe-ish and soft, does the exact same thing to him. “I want to take you on a date. I want to open doors for you and walk you to your porch afterwards. Maybe give you a goodnight kiss and watch you go inside. You drive me mad, darlin. I like you so much, it’s taking everythin’ in me not to kiss you right now.”

What?

Your head spins. It’s difficult to even process what he’s saying, everything swimming through your head at a dizzying pace. Maybe you heard him wrong.

“You-” You falter, “You want to- to what?”

Finally.

Jasper smirks, leaning in just enough to make your heart skip erratically, “I want to kiss you sugar. And trust me, it is mighty hard to control myself.”

“Okay um…” You scream silently in your head. Jasper wants to kiss you. Jasper likes you. He likes you. And you like him. “So, you- okay, I have no clue what to do now. I like you too, a lot. Which you probably knew. Wow. I can’t believe I didn’t…”

“Everyone tried tellin’ you,” Jasper chuckles, leaning back.

“I know! I just, I thought they were all teasing me, you know? Cause I like you,” you explain lamely, pouting a bit in disbelief. All this time, you could have just told him! “I just can’t believe how oblivious I was.”

“Trust me, darlin, none of us can. I have one more question for you, though.”

“What?”

“Will you give me the great pleasure of takin’ you on a date?”

You bite your lip, but it does nothing to stop the smile from spreading across them.

“Of course!”

---

I hope you guys liked this one! It was a fun one, though it took me a while!

#reader insert #x reader #reader #jasper hale #jasper whitlock #twilight saga #twilight #jasper hale x reader #jasper whitlock x reader #jasper x reader #you're so oblivious it hurts #oblivious reader

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justagalwhowrites · 10 months

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Prompt 91 babyyyyy

OMG Hi Bestie

Thank you so much for sending in this suggestion! I LOVED this prompt and @1soff also shared it.

This is starring Joel and a new FMC who you'll likely be meeting soon (probably this fall?) who Joel calls Goldie. This is going to be a no-outbreak modern AU Joel romantic dramady fic. They were best friends in high school but had a falling out at the end of their senior year and went their separate ways until Goldie moves back to Austin when they're in their early 30s. This scene isn't going to be canon for their story BUT you'll at least get a taste for Joel and Goldie!

Thank you for being here! I hope you like Joel and Goldie! Love you so much!

Pick Me

You and your high school best friend, Joel Miller, reconnect after years apart.

Based on Prompt 91: “Don’t go on that date.” “Why?” “You know why.” “Say it.”

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader (nicknamed Goldie)

Warnings: None :) No use of Y/N.

Length: 1.8K

“You’re not going to make me like this damn town,” you said, taking a drink off the flask and passing it back to Joel. Your legs were dangling over the rock toward the river below, the stars bright overhead. “Doesn’t matter how many times we try to act like teenagers breaking into the state park, it’s not going to work.”

“I’ll wear ya down,” he said, taking a drink himself. “If you’re stuck here, may as well try to enjoy it.”

You sighed, looking out at the Austin skyline as Joel handed the flask back to you. You took another drink.

This stupid fucking city held what seemed like everything bad that had ever happened to you. Your father, how your mother died, Anna’s descent into addiction that you knew was at least partially your fault.

But it also had Joel.

The one, incredibly determined bright spot that had been here even as you tried as hard as you could to run from it. Liking Austin was dangerous. Liking JOEL was dangerous.

“How’s the school treatin’ ya?” He asked after a minute.

“Pretty good, actually,” you nodded. “Better than Ohio did when I started there.”

“Fuckin’ Ohio,” Joel said, glancing at you with a sly smile on his lips. You snorted. He held out his hand. “You’re bogarting the booze, Goldie.”

“What, you think it’s yours or something?” You teased, handing the flask back.

“Unless your last name is suddenly Miller,” he teased back, tapping the engraved side of it. He took a swig. “But they got you teachin’… fuck, whatever the interesting shit is English professors get to teach?”

You laughed a little.

“Yeah,” you said. “I have 18th century British Literature which is a good one for me, anyway. Literature for writers is another one I’m liking so far. Plus some workshops. It’s mostly upperclassmen so they’re all kids who are there because they care about the subject, not just to fulfill some requirements to graduate.

“I think the school is sucking up to me a bit, though,” you said. “I picked a good time to have my life completely implode and need to job hunt. I had some good name recognition from my book. They want to try to keep me around so they’re letting me teach the cool shit instead of needing to work my way up.”

He nodded slowly and handed you the flask back. You ran your thumb over the engraving, watching his name catch the light of the moon. You took another drink.

“You’re still too smart to be hangin’ out with me,” he smiled a little. “Not arguin’, just pointin’ out some truths for you.”

“You’re still too cool to be hanging out with me,” you smiled back. “Think we’re even.”

“I was never that cool,” he replied.

“Oh I know,” you laughed. “I was just a huge fucking loser.”

He laughed at that. You handed him the flask.

Joel was sitting close to you, so close that your leg sometimes brushed his when it swung out over the water below. His hand brushed yours as he leaned back on the rock, his fingertips slipping into the gaps between your own. You took your hand back and lay down on the stone, looking up at the sky overhead.

The whiskey had set in, a pleasant buzz running over you as you watched the lights from distant planes flying overhead. You wondered idly where they were going, if the people aboard were excited for vacation or traveling for business or on their way to a funeral. You always wanted to know things like that. It was your curse, that’s what your mother had called it. That you had all these questions about how the people around you moved through the world, like you wanted to crawl inside their skin and live as them for a day, just to see what it was like to occupy the same space as another person, have their heartbeat, feel the creases in their flesh as it existed to them.

“You ever wonder what would have happened if you’d stayed here after high school?” Joel asked. You looked over at him. He took another drink. “Gone to UT and shit instead of runnin’ off to Columbia?”

“All the time,” you replied. “But I think about a lot of different versions of myself. In some alternate universe there’s a me who went to Iowa for undergrad and never met fucking Brad…”

“Fuckin’ Brad,” Joel echoed. You looked up at him and caught a glimpse of his smile.

“There’s another one who moved to London and never went to college,” you said. “She’s just waiting tables and writing shitty poems in an apartment she shares with three other people. But she’s pretty happy there, so good on her I guess.”

Joel paused before looking down at you.

“The version who stayed?” He asked.

You sighed.

“I’m really not sure,” you said. “I’m sure we would have stayed friends the whole time instead of falling out of touch…”

“We weren’t talkin’ when you left,” he said.

“I know,” you sighed. “But I think we’d have moved past that pretty quick if we were in the same damn city.”

“Makes sense,” he agreed after a moment.

“I’m not sure about her beyond that, though,” you said after a moment of quiet.

He was quiet but lay down next to you on the rock, looking up at the stars. His body was warm, even from a few inches away.

“Missed you, you know,” he said, turning his head to look at you.

“Missed you, too,” you said, smiling a little back at him before looking back at the stars again. “You know, more than I think about staying here, I wonder what would have happened if we’d never… you know. If we’d just stayed friends.”

“Yeah?” He said. His eyes were still on you, you could feel him watching you. “What do you think would’ve happened?”

“I wouldn’t have married fuckin’ Brad,” you laughed. “You’d have seen right through his shit and talked me out of that one real quick.”

He snorted.

“I only met the guy once but he was a fuckin’ dick,” he said.

“See?” You smiled. “I needed someone to point that out to me, I couldn’t see him for what he was. I needed someone who could.”

“I probably wouldn’t have Sarah,” you heard him frown then. “Shit, that’s weird to think about… I doubt I’d have gone to the bar and hooked up with her mom that night if we’d still been friends.”

“That whole ripple effect thing,” you sighed. “Change one thing and the whole world shifts. But assuming you would still have Sarah - that girl is inevitable, you cannot deny her. She’d will herself into existence if you weren’t there to help her along - what would be different for you?”

He laughed a little and then sighed.

“Might have actually done the community college thing,” he shrugged. “You would have been on my ass about it until I fuckin’ enrolled…”

“Damn right I would’ve,” you replied.

“I’d probably have just flunked out though,” he said. “Then I’d have a bunch of loans and nothin’ to show for it.”

“Damn,” you sighed but smiled slightly, turning your head to look at him. “Who knew I’d be such a bad influence on you.”

“Nah,” he smiled. “My mom’s never wrong about that shit and she liked you. It’d be good.”

“Oh, well, if I had Mrs. Miller’s blessing…” you teased.

You just lay there, looking at each other for a bit, the rock cool below you, the river drowning out the sounds of the city that lay just out of reach on the horizon. There was a knot in your stomach when you looked at Joel for too long, something that seemed to want to dig into you, something that had lingered whenever he came to mind for years.

“Oh hey,” you said, desperate to have something else to talk about. “How did your date go the other night? The one girl you were doubling with Tommy and Maria with?”

“Oh,” Joel paused for a moment. “It was fine, I guess, but we didn’t really… I dunno, click or whatever the fuck you wanna call it. We’re not goin’ out again.”

“She was that bad in bed, eh?” You teased. Even in the dark you caught his frown.

“Wouldn’t know,” he said. “Didn’t fuck her.”

“Really?” You frowned a bit, surprised. “Well, good for you.”

“Feel like you’re implyin’ somethin’ about my dating history, Goldie,” he smiled a little.

“Just that you’re good at charming the pants off your dates,” you smiled back. “Which I’d think most men would take as a compliment.”

“Yeah, well,” he shrugged, going quiet again.

He was so close to you, so close it felt dangerous.

“Still talkin’ to that one guy?” Joel asked. “What’s his name?”

“Eric?” You asked. “The guy whose texts I showed you to see if you thought he was a whack job?”

“That’s the one,” Joel laughed a little.

“Yeah, actually,” you smiled a bit. “We’re going out this weekend, some concert he wants to see. Who cares as long as it gets me out of my damn apartment…”

“Don’t go on that date,” Joel cut you off.

“Why?” You breathed, your heart pounding against your ribs. The sad, homesick longing you’d had for him for what felt like your entire life was sharp and hot inside your stomach.

“You know why.”

“Say it.”

“I love you, Goldie,” he said, looking at you so intently that you could feel it in your blood. “I’ve loved you since were fuckin’ 16 years old and…”

“Don’t do this to me, Joel,” your voice broke as you said it. “Don’t treat me like one of the girls you date where you say whatever it is you say to them to get them into bed…”

“You think that’s what this is?” He rolled onto his side so he was looking down at you, his body just inches from your own. “That any of that shit wasn’t to make up for not havin’ you when you left?”

“That’s not…” you began but he cut you off.

“You’re it for me,” he said. “Knew it when we were 16 years old, knew it on prom night, knew it the day you left town.

“Don’t go out with that fuckin’ guy. He seems… fine. He does, Goldie. He seems better than fuckin’ Brad but Jesus, you deserve so much better than fine. Let me try to be somethin’ close to what you deserve. Don’t go on that date.”

“Joel,” you breathed.

“Don’t go on that date.”

“I won’t,” you said softly. “I’ll…”

And, for the first time in 14 years, your best friend kissed you, his hand slipping around to the back of your head, pulling your face closer to his own as his lips met yours all soft and sweet. It left you breathless when he pulled away.

“Good,” he said. “That’s… good."

"Yeah," you said. "I think it is."

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #fanfic #follower celebration

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lustinglilac · 4 years

Text

Disrespect

A/N: Garcia siblings are back baby! And this time, they get into some unwanted trouble at a local bar... (Platonic!Reader x Benny)

Warnings: strong language, sexual harassment, blood. *gif not mine*

Their late night bar “dates”, as she had named them, were always a good time. Pope and his sister stood on one side of the high-top table while Francisco and Benny stood across from them. Will hadn’t been able to attend tonight, though, having had some things to sort out.

She looked particularly hot tonight, blue jeans hugging her thighs and ass in all the right places paired with a dark crop top that stopped right at her bellybutton.

“Let’s fuckin’ go, baby!” Benny hollered as he downed his second shot, slamming the glass down onto the wooden table with a reverberating clink.

“Benny, we literally just got here.” She rolled her eyes at him.

“So what! You know you used to be way more fun, Garcia.” He scoffed, winking at the annoyed expression on her face.

“Oh, really? Okay. Me and Frank verse you and Pope. Let’s go.” She nodded her head in the direction of an unoccuppied pool table in the corner of the dimly lit bar.

Benny smirked at her, eyes flitting between Pope and Fish, “Why do I get Pope? You take ‘im, he’s your brother.”

“I‘m with him every single day of my life, give me a break, Benny.” She spoke a little too loudly and Pope had heard her amidst his conversation with Frank, making him frown, “Kidding, Tiago!” She cut him off with a tight smile as they made their way over.

“Alright, fair enough. What’re we playin’ for?” Benny drawled, passing down the pool sticks to his friends.

“Losers have to—“ Frank paused, thinking of a good way to end the sentence. “Losers have to go skinny dipping in the lake behind the high school!” He points his finger wildly in Pope and Benny’s direction.

“Frank?! And what if we lose? I’m not doing that!” She put her hands up, not wanting any part of that deal.

“I mean it would suck but I’m not arguin’—“ Benny smirked, weighing his options in his head.

Pope disagreed with a violent shake of his head, “We’re not doin’ that.”

Frank grimaced, slowly realizing that it probably wouldn’t be the best idea, “Yeah, never mind. We’ll just let the winners decide at the end.” He winked, nudging her softly making her laugh.

“Ladies first.” Benny bumped her shoulder playfully on his way past her, pretending like he didn’t see her standing there. She narrowed her eyes at him, pressing her lips into a thin line.

She leaned her body over the table, calculating her shot carefully before scattering the colored balls across the velvet. Only two had pocketed as she tried again, not being able to make anymore.

Frank shouted a compliment, high-fiving her as she walked back to him. She simply watched as the younger Miller took three easy shots, failing to make a fourth one.

“Your turn, Frankie.” She encouraged him to move towards the table as he set up his shot. Frank looked like a pro at it, showcasing his skills as he too managed to pocket three balls.

“Okay, Fish!” Her eyes widened, she raised her eyebrows at him, smirking at his talent.

“Y’all suck!” Benny taunted loudly, slapping Pope on the ass as he leaned over the table to get his shot in, “Get ‘em Pope.”

She gasped at his action, biting the inside of her cheek to hold back a laugh as not to distract her brother.

“Benny! What the fuck? Don’t smack my ass!” Pope grimaced at his partner, turning back around to focus on winning. He, like his sister, managed to sink two in and retreated back to the corner where his teammate stood.

“Let’s go, we’re halfway through. You got this, baby.” Frank egged her on, pinching her shoulders before she stepped up to the table once more.

Unbeknown to them, they’d had a few spectators watching as they played the game. They were particularly focused on the pretty girl with the gorgeous body who was currently setting up her shot, bent over the table.

“Hey gorgeous! Why don’t you come over here and bend that ass over my lap—“

Pool game completely discarded the moment the words left the punk’s mouth. Their pool sticks dropped to the ground harshly, wood on wood colliding.

“What the fuck did you just say?” Benny’s eyes narrowed into slits, turning his whole body to face the bar where the disgusting man and his disgusting friends were seated.

“Don’t— do not.” She pleaded with her brother and Benny and Frank. She tried to hold Pope back by his shirt to no avail. But they were fuming, no, worse, they were livid.

“Move.” Pope’s voice deadly as he spoke to his sister. Frank gently pulled her to the side out of Santiago’s way, she anxiously watched her brother approach the man who was bold enough to make a comment so lewd about his little sister.

“What? I can’t have some fun? She’s a pretty thing.” The drunk man slurred in his face, cackling obnoxiously loud as two of his friends riled him up.

That was all it took for Santiago to reel his arm back, landing a bone-cracking punch to the bastard’s face, knocking him full force off of the bar stool.

Benny stalked behind him, clenching and unclenching his fists at his sides dying to get a shot in, “Watch out, Pope—“ He seethed eagerly, staring down at his bloody face.

His two friends did nothing to back him, shutting up immediately at the sight of the two revenge seeking men who had come to the “pretty thing’s” defense.

“Don’t you ever disrespect a woman like that. I’ll fuckin’ kill you— you hear me?! Motherfucker!” Benny had gotten the man pinned beneath him with his hands wrapped tightly around his throat, throwing in three punches for good measure and continuing to yell at the pervert.

“Frank— Frank you have to stop them.” She spoke hurriedly, begging him to go over there and stop the commotion. Fuck, she just wanted to go home.

Frank was torn between wanting to get in on the action or take her advice and stop his own friends from getting detained if the fight lasted any longer.

“Shit.” Frank muttered under his breath, running over to the scene, “Benny, enough man.” Frank grunted, pulling a very begrudging Miller off of the barely conscious body.

“Piece of shit.” Benny grunted with a final kick to his leg.

Pope had noticed the worker behind the bar had a phone to her ear, most likely on the line with the police.

“Let’s get outta here.” Pope spoke, wiping his knuckles on the back of his pants wincing quietly before taking his sister’s hand and leading the four of them out of the bar.

No one dared to stop them as they walked out, not one employee, they’d all heard what was said and they knew the vile man had it coming.

Once they were outside, she shut her eyes for a brief moment. Finally able to breath properly, she inhaled deeply, her lungs filling desperately.

“Bastard.” Benny grunted under his breath, face red with anger as he paced back and forth, trying to calm his rapid heart rate.

“We should go before the cops get ‘ere—“ Frank replied hastily, the faint sound of sirens approaching catching their attention momentarily.

Pope wiped at his mouth, “Hijo de puta. Fucking sick bastards.” He breathed out through his nose, leading them to where they were parked. He fished his keys out of his pocket slowly as not to disturb the swelling knuckle of his right hand.

She was quiet, getting into her brother’s vehicle silently, occupying the seat behind Pope as Benny settled in next to her behind Frank, their knees knocking together as he found a comfortable position, leaning his head against the window.

Benny was less heated now, his pulse returning to a normal rhythm, “Shit— we didn’t even get to finish the game.” He jolted upright, looking to the girl sitting beside him.

“It was a tie.” She remembered correctly, both teams had each sunk the same amount of balls.

“We were definitely winning though—“ Frank nodded his head, attempting to convince his friends that they would’ve been the winners had they finished playing.

“Not a chance.” Benny smirked at the younger girl who couldn’t help but scoff at him.

Coming to a harsh stop at a red light, Santiago hissed, “Fuck— my hand’s killing me. Benny, you alright?” He asked him, catching his eyes in the rearview mirror.

“Yeah— for now. I’m not feelin’ it yet.” He looked down at his own knuckles, the dark red blood drying on them.

“Well, we’re definitely not coming back to this bar anytime soon.” She hummed, looking out the window as they began to drive again, “Or ever, honestly.”

Benny’s arm absentmindedly wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her closer to him as she relaxed into his side.

“You’re getting real close back there, Miller. I don’t like it.” Pope eyed them warily.

“He literally just fought someone for me. It’s a gesture of kindness, Tiago.” She glared at him, one eyebrow arched in his direction.

“So did I!” He scoffed, raising his arms.

“Someone’s jealous.” Benny’s statement provoked him even more, making Frank laugh from the passenger seat and earning him a pointed stare from Pope.

Pope laughed humorlessly at him, “Just— keep a distance, please.” He grimaced.

“Whatever floats your boat, handsome.” Benny winked at him in the reflection.

She rolled her eyes, biting back a grin, pushing off of Benny and sitting back in her spot.

“I love fuckin’ with you, Pope.” Benny snickered, reaching over to grab at his shoulder pinching it between his fingers.

“Yeah, yeah.” The older Garcia grunted, rolling his eyes.

Tags: @chibsytelford

#benny miller #benny miller x reader #benny miller imagine #santiago pope garcia #francisco catfish morales #triple frontier imagine #triple frontier #garrett hedlund

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sdktrs12 · 4 years

Text

( Days 1 - 8 ) ( Days 9 - 16 )

“I’m sorry, I’m not sure I see the problem here.” Annie says, grabbing two plastic cups and a bottle of vodka from the top shelf of the kitchen cupboard and making her way over to Beth, settling in beside her on the couch. She twists open the top of the vodka, tossing the cap onto the coffee table before pouring a shot into each cup and Beth wrinkles her nose at the smell of the alcohol, like nail polish remover.

“I’m a grown woman. I don’t need a bodyguard.” Beth answers, tone a little sharper than she intends, but she’s still very much annoyed.

“I mean, I wouldn’t call Mick a bodyguard—” Annie starts to point out, handing Beth her cup, and she takes it, waving it in the air as she cuts Annie off. “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself, he’s always just...swooping in and trying to take over. Trying to control things.”

‘Trying to control me’ sits on the tip of her tongue, but she refuses to let that one slip.

She holds her breath as she knocks back her shot, hoping it will help mask the taste.

It doesn’t.

“I dunno, sounds to me like he’s just trying to like, protect you. Which y’know, after everything...I think says a lot.” Annie knocks back her own shot and then grabs Beth’s cup, immediately refilling them both.

“He’s just so annoying.” Beth says, coughing a little at the burn in the back of her throat from the vodka, ignoring Annie’s comment and the way that burns in her chest. “With his stupid voice and stupid hoodie and stupid...mouth...” Beth trails off, momentarily distracted, remembering the things that stupid mouth had done to her—

“Don’t forget the stupid neck tattoo.” Annie inputs helpfully, gently prodding Beth back on track as she hands her the new shot and Beth tilts her head back and laughs. “Oh my god yes, that stupid tattoo. God, what even is that?”

“I have no idea.” Annie giggles out with a hiccup, getting caught up in her sisters laughter until they’re both leaning into each other. “I was too scared to ask, I thought everyone else knew.”

“No,” Beth says, drawing the word out as she shakes her head vigorously, “Is it like, an eagle? Or a falcon?”

“A raven! Maybe he was trying to draw inspiration from Poe. Dark and brooding aesthetics and all that.”

“Annie, have you ever seen a raven?” Between this and movie night, Beth is starting to have her doubts. “An owl maybe?” She adds thoughtfully, squinting as she tries to conjure both images up in her mind’s eye.

“It’s probably some sort of like, mythical bird. Something that’s risen from the ashes of hell, for sure.”

Beth huffs out another laugh as she sinks back into the couch cushions, staring down at the clear liquid inside of her cup, briefly lost in thought.

She’d come straight here after having it out with Rio in her backyard earlier that night.

Dean had decided to stay at the house for a few nights after what had happened at Paper Porcupine, wanting to make sure she got home safe at night, he had said.

She hadn’t felt like arguing, just watched as he’d dropped an overnight bag onto the floor of the living room. She’d brought out bedding for the couch for him that night.

Tonight when she’d gotten home however, she’d received a text from Rio and had left Dean in the living room with the kids to finish watching their movie as she’d slipped out into the backyard.

And they’d only been discussing the drop schedule for a few minutes when Rio’s eyes caught and stuck over her shoulder, and she’d looked behind her to see Dean through the window, moving around the kitchen.

( “He was worried after...after what happened at the store.” She said hesitantly, lifting her shoulder in a half shrug and Rio had shoved his hands into his jacket pockets. “It’s easier to just let him—than to argue.” She stumbles on her words, not sure why she feels the need to explain to him at all.

And so what if having Dean around for a few days had made her feel a little better?

“Oh yeah? Don’t seem to recall you ever havin’ a problem with arguin’ before.”

Beth rolls her eyes as she wraps her arms around herself, the chilly night air making her shiver, hadn’t thought to grab a coat before coming outside. “It’s different. With...him. And he just wants me to be safe.”

There’s a flash of anger in his eyes before his features smooth out as he shakes his head, shoulders rolling back. “Nah, you roll over and play us both, shit ain’t that different, ma.”

Her eyes widen slightly as her mouth drops open and then she’s taking a step forward, seething as her hands curl into fists at her sides. “What is your problem?” She hisses, teeth clenching so hard she feels like her jaw might just snap.

“Only problem I got is you still not gettin' your house in order. Don’t need that shit affecting my business.”

“Our business.” She snaps, shaking her head slowly as she takes another step, this time away from him. “You are unbelievable.”

“Look, darlin’, all I’m sayin’ is—”

“Oh, I hear what you’re saying loud and clear, darlin’.” She mocks, flushed hot with irritation. “I’ve got the drop schedule now, I think we’re done here.”

Rio huffs out a laugh, shaking his head and she knows he’ll say something biting if she gives him the chance, so she turns away first.

“He ain’t the only one.” His words cut through the air, sharp and Beth turns back, eyebrows snapping together.

“What does that mean?”

He pauses, letting out an aggravated sigh. “I always got people watchin’ when you close.” He tilts his chin up toward the house, eyes hard as he adds, “You’ll always be safe, Elizabeth.” )

And then she’d been left frozen in shock as he’d walked away.

Now, Beth downs her second shot, leaning forward to drop the empty cup on the table before settling back into the couch, grabbing one of the throw pillows and hugging it to her chest.

“He didn’t even ask.” She points out quietly, knowing that argument is fairly weak and Annie snorts out a laugh as she refills their cups once more. “Neither did Deansie.” She shoots back and—okay, point taken.

And Beth’s about to protest that third shot, she still has to drive back home after all, when the lights in the apartment go out and they’re plunged into darkness.

“What the hell?” Annie says and Beth feels the couch shift as she stands up and she reaches into her back pocket to pull her phone out and turn on the flashlight feature.

Annie goes from room to room, flipping switches, cussing underneath her breath when none of them work. “I don’t know what’s going on here.”

“Did you pay your electric bill?” Beth asks from her spot on the couch and Annie whips around to glare at her. “Of course I paid my electric bill.” She snaps, then pauses for a second before carefully navigating her way over to the kitchen, picking through the messy pile of papers on the counter, making a noise of triumph as she finds the one she was looking for, holding it up and waving it in Beth’s direction. “Yes! See?”

“Okay, well look up the number so you can call them.” Beth instructs, standing up and looking around. “Where are your candles?”

Annie turns and digs some plastic taper candles out of one of the drawers and hands them off to Beth, who just stares back at her, eyebrows raised.

“Ben got rid of the real candles last week...when I may or may not have accidentally knocked one over and—almost burned the place down.” It comes out low and rushed together and her eyes dart over to the coffee table and Beth turns to look, holding her phone out to shine some light on it and—

Yup, there scorched into the wood is a black mark.

“Annie.”

Before Annie can defend herself, they hear commotion out in the hall and Annie rounds the table, Beth close on her heels as she opens up her front door and peeks her head out and they see a few of her neighbors milling around out in the hall, apparently having the same power issues.

Beth turns around and goes to look out the living room window. “It looks like it’s out for a few blocks.” She says, turning back around just as Annie closes her door.

Annie glances around a little nervously, wringing her hands in front of her, and Beth knows Ben isn’t coming home tonight, so it’ll just be Annie here after she leaves.

“You know what, I probably shouldn’t drive in this—”

“Yeah, not after those shots anyway. You can stay in Ben’s room.”

Annie grins and Beth smiles, turning on the fake candles and setting them up around the room while Annie pours them a double.

“Now, about gangfriend’s other tattoos...”

#Hauntober Prompts #Hauntober #Prompts #writing #fanfiction #ficlet #brio #will i ever stop writing utter nonsense?#survey says #noooooo

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bisexuallittlefreaks · 3 years

Link

Relationships: Destiel, Sam/Eileen

Summary: Post 15.19, established Destiel. One day, after happily ever after, Dean prays to Jack and apologizes for saying Jack's not family.

You know those fics where you're just hit by inspiration, you open a document, you start writing, and you write the whole thing in one sitting with no prep?

What.

One day, after they get Cas back and he and Dean get their shit figured out and Cas moves into Dean’s room and they’re… well, living “happily ever after” might be a bit much, but it’s a helluva a lot closer than Dean ever thought he’d get so he’ll take it, all right? One day, when Cas, Sam, and Eileen are out on a hunt (Dean doesn’t hunt much anymore--his left leg is all fucked up and Cas can’t heal him anymore so Dean cooks and cleans the bunker and sometimes he even does research), one day he prays to Jack.

They don’t see Jack much. He’s busy. Doing God-stuff. It’s good. It’s okay. Sometimes Dean catches Cas looking at a picture of Jack and it makes Dean feel funny inside. Guilty, maybe? Yeah, it was Jack’s choice, but Dean… Dean was responsible for the kid. Yeah, they had no other option, but Jack was Cas’s kid and Cas hadn’t been there to protect him, and they could’ve found some other way, as Sam had pointed out, there’s always another way. Dean was responsible.

And after what the kid had heard Dean say to Sam…

So one day, when no one else is at the bunker, Dean prays to Jack and asks him to visit. Just for a moment. He has something he needs to say.

“Hey Dean.”

Dean whips around from where he’s been knee-deep in cleaning the kitchen to see Jack standing in the doorway, right hand raised in greeting. Dean smiles wryly at the familiar sight and wipes his hands off on a rag before pulling the kid in for a hug. Jack seems a little surprised, but he goes with it. That breaks Dean’s heart just a fraction.

“How ya doin’, kiddo? How’s running things?”

“It’s good. I’m making some changes in heaven,” Jack says brightly. “I don’t like the way it was set up there. Now people can be with their loved ones and don’t live the same memory over and over for eternity.”

Dean stares at the kid. “Wow. You come up with that idea yourself?”

“My mom helped, actually.”

“I’m impressed, kid,” Dean says earnestly. “Heaven’s been a mess for as long as I’ve known it. Be nice to know people are actually gettin’ a fair shake for once.”

“You said you wanted to say something?” Jack asks. Dean pulls in a long breath and nods, pulling a couple beers out of the fridge and leading them to the study. He hands one of the beers to Jack and opens his own, taking a draw from it and looking anywhere but at Jack. The kid sits down and sets his beer on the table, watching Dean with ever-patient eyes.

“You remember when you heard me ‘n’ Sam arguin’ and I said… I said you weren’t family?”

The smile that always seems to linger on Jack’s face fades like he’s suddenly realized this is a serious conversation, and he nods.

“That… that was wrong of me.” Dean still can’t look at the boy. He can’t see those cow eyes staring at him. “I didn’t… Well, I did mean it at the time, but I don’t… You’re our son, Jack, mine and Cas’s, and we love you, I--... I love you. And I’m--” He takes a breath and looks up. “I’m sorry.”

Jack’s cheeks are wet, that’s the first thing Dean notices when he finally allows himself to really look at Jack, and his first thought is panic .

“Shit, Jack, I didn’t mean--” Dean runs to Jack, to wipe his tears, to bandage the wound, to do something , but Jack laughs and brushes him away.

“They’re happy tears, stupid,” he says, standing up and stepping out of Dean’s trajectory. With nowhere else to go, Dean sits heavily in the chair Jack had just been occupying and stares. Jack hiccups and wipes at his face with the back of one hand, putting his other hand on Dean’s.

“You’re not your dad, Dean.”

Dean frowns at him suspiciously, but his insides squirm. Talk about hitting the nail right on the head. Jack just smiles.

“Cas told me.”

Of course he did.

Still. Dean may be making progress, but he’s not that far. He slides his hand out from under Jack’s and stands back up, throwing on a smile.

“So whaddya say? Game night when everyone gets back from their hunt? Cas really misses you, man.”

Jack smiles. “Okay. I’ll be there.”

Dean doesn’t tell Cas he talked to Jack when he calls that night to say good night. It’s more of an in-person conversation, he thinks. He doesn’t end up telling Cas the details until after game night when they’re getting ready for bed. But the look on Cas’s face when Jack was waiting with a literal pile of games waiting on the table when they walked through the bunker door is something Dean’ll treasure for a long time. Just like he’ll treasure the look in Cas’s eyes when Jack asks that night if he should start calling them “Dad”.

(Cas says--through tears--that he’d like that. Dean says “Dean” is just fine.

...Sam and Eileen look positively delighted to become an aunt and uncle.)

#spn #supernatural #destiel #dean winchester #jack kline #my fic

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painted-piggy-ships-archive · 3 years

Text

Abigaile Dunsmoor

Jack Sparrow x Rex Lanning

Word Count: 935

Tag List: @ghostlyvenus @heartstringsymphonies @heavenshipped @the-schizotypal-cryptid

Summary: Abigaile becomes a part of the Black Pearl crew family! Aka; look I wrote something about fankids which is like once or twice a year shshshgshg Abbie is 9, and Briar is ~15.

Warnings: Abigaile’s a bit of a young thief, so there’s a scene with a shopkeep catching her, but it’s resolved. (By Rex pulling a gun on the man and Briar using excellent misdirection skills; the necklace is fake!)

The Black Pearl had been ported at Tortuga once again for supplies; but little did the crew know they were additionally going to gain another member. Months ago, Jack and Rex had picked up a young soul named Briar, who didn’t much care what they were referred to as, they just wanted work. Thus, they joined the crew of the Black Pearl, and quickly made a family out of the heads of the ship. Even now, Briar is considered Jack and Rex’s unofficial kid.

Rex was haggling with a farmer when a small figure darted past, catching their eye.

“Stop, thief!” A man bellowed after the obvious child. Rex payed no mind for the moment; after living with pirates for a while, you begin to realize the significance of choosing your battles. However, when the man snatched at the young girl, his meaty hand engulfing her arm, Rex lept to action, producing a pistol from their belt.

“Unhand the kid,” they commanded. The shopkeep scowled down at Rex, being a hulking figure in the market.

“Why should I? The little rat’s been abscondin’ with my supplies all month, and now I finally ‘ave her!”

“She’s only a child. Barely dressed, alone, hungry. Haven’t you anything better to do than harass her for making do with what she can?”

“I don’t give a bleedin’ shit about wha’’s happened to this kid, why do you?”

“Because Rex is kind, in spite of everything,” Briar’s voice interrupted as he appeared at his parental figure’s side, “here, I’ll make you a deal. You hand over the kid, and I will give you this.”

Briar thrust forward a necklace of pearls and opals; “I assure you, it will sell quite fabulously.”

The shopkeep looked down his bulbous nose at the necklace before dropping the girl to the ground and snatching it up greedily.

“Pleasure doin’ business witcha,” he sneered and turned on his heel. Briar stooped to help the girl up onto her feet.

“You alright?” He asked. In her hand was a- now crushed- piece of bread. She nodded feverishly.

“What’s your name?” Rex asked.

“Abigaile,” she responded quickly.

“Well, Abigaile, how do you feel about sailing the seas?”

“I'd do anythin' t' get out o' here, mister.”

Rex smiled knowingly.

“Do you want to come with us? Ah, where are my manners. I’m Rex, and this is my… protege, Briar. My partner owns a mighty fine ship, we could perhaps bring you somewhere safer, if you so desire.”

The young girl nodded eagerly this time.

“Oh please! Thank ye!” She quickly embraced Rex and they patted her hair gently before taking both children back to the Black Pearl.

“Gibbs, this is Abigaile, I believe she’s going to be sailing with us, at least for a little while,” Rex spoke promptly to Jack’s second in command, who looked warily at Briar and Abigaile.

“Rex... don't ye reckon one lost sprog be enough? 'n at least Briar can work,” he looked apologetically at the young girl, “Ah, no offense, lass.”

“I can work!” Abigaile stated desperately, “I can get into small spaces, and I’m quick, too!”

“And an excellent little thief, it sounds like,” Briar added, having heard the entire conversation before stepping in.

Gibbs sighed, “Well, thar's no point in arguin' wit' ye... it'll be in Jack's hands, then.”

Rex turned to Abigaile.

“Abbie, why don’t you go make yourself at home in the captain’s quarters, there should be something you can nibble on in Jack’s desk.”

Briar guided the girl to where Rex instructed, leaving the adults to ponder when Jack would be back from getting supplies… and if anything was holding him up. Gibbs glanced at his watch.

“Give 'im an hour?”

“Yes, and then I’ll go see if he’s holed up in a pub or not.”

~~~

Luckily, Rex did not end up having to drag their boyfriend out of a pub. He returned to the Pearl safe and sound, arms overflowing with fishing nets and the like.

“Jack, there’s something I need to talk to you about,” Rex captured his attention immediately. In his haste to hear their words, Jack nearly dropped a heavy crate onto another pirate’s foot.

“Watch it, Jack!” He growled, but was paid no mind.

“Aye, aye, wha' be it, love?” Jack asked anxiously, flittering to his partner’s side.

“You see, I had a run-in with a young thief. Some shopkeep was threatening her, so Briar and I stepped in… needless to say, she wants, and likely needs, a way out of here, and I was wondering if you’d allow her to sail on the Pearl for a time.”

Jack pondered Rex’s request.

“I... don't suppose thar's any reason nah t', so long as she stays out o' the way 'n such,” Jack decided, rubbing his goatee thoughtfully, “where be the young lass?”

“I told her she could help herself to any food she found in the cabin as she was obviously hungry.”

“I see.”

Rex led their boyfriend back to the cabin, only to find Abigaile fast asleep in his chair. Rex clucked their tongue and removed their coat to wrap around the young girl, smiling slightly to themself.

“It’ll only be until we find land and someone who will gladly take her and care for her…” they glanced at Jack, “unless you get attached.”

“Oh, poppycock,” Jack responded, flustered at the thought of being a father figure to two potentially bright children. Rex continued to smile as they left the cabin together before placing a kiss on Jack’s tan cheek.

“I’m sure whatever happens, it’ll be a fun experience nonetheless.”

#🏴‍☠️Drunken Sailor & Bonny Lad🏴‍☠️#clownie writes #self shipping #self shipping community #fankids #self insert

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whitewitchdani · 4 years

Text

Laters, Baby: Chapter 9

Read Chapter 8 Here

Word Count: 2222

Pairing: Winchester!Sister x Lucifer

Warnings: language, angst

A/N: Chapter 9! Enjoy :) let me know what you think and if you’d like to be tagged!

Laters, Baby Masterlist

“Bobby’s gonna be pissed, Dean.”

“Yeah, well, when is he not pissed at most of the things we do? Once we explain everything he should be, less pissed.”

You had fallen asleep on the long ride to Sioux Falls, and the bumpy road into the scrapyard had woken you up. The small sense of calm you had from sleep was abruptly ripped away as you realized you were still handcuffed to the car.

“Dammit Dean let me go!”

Your older brother just sighed, “Will you stop yelling? I’m right here.”

As the Impala rolled to a stop, you watched as both of your brothers exited the car. You waited expectantly for Dean to come around and let you out. He did not.

“Dean what the hell?! Let me-”

Your protests were cut off as he slammed his door shut, marching his way up to the porch. Sam shot you a sympathetic look and followed.

Sam reached the door right as Bobby pulled it open. The old hunter looked at the two boys, “What’d you two idjit’s get into this time? And where’s your sister?”

Dean pushed past him into the house, “Funnily enough it wasn’t us this time. Little sister out there is in deep.” He made his way to the kitchen, pulling a beer from the fridge before plopping down at the table.

“Dean,” Sam sighed at his brother as he moved past and stood near the entrance to the study. “Y/N didn’t do anything Bobby. You know how we thought she wasn’t involved in this apocalypse crap? Well, we were wrong.”

“Balls.” Bobby moved and grabbed his own beer from the fridge, sitting across from Dean at the table, “What the hell is her role in this crap?”

“Oh, you know, bride of Frankenstein,” Dean said sarcastically as he took a long pull from his bottle.

Bobby gave him a funny look before turning to Sam, “What’s stuck in his shorts?”

“Well, before that,” he said pointing to you outside, “Y/N and Dean were arguing over the fact that she’s… Lucifer’s soulmate.”

“SHE’S WHAT??” Bobby bellowed shooting up from his seat.

“Yeah, Cas confirmed it. They think that if she goes along with it, Lucifer may give up his apocalypse plans. If he learns to love Y/N, he can learn to love the rest of humanity as well. Dean doesn’t agree.”

Bobby turned to the window, “Why is she still in the car?”

Sam scoffed, “That would be Dean too. He was sick of arguing with her about it so he tossed her over his shoulder, threw her in the backseat, and then handcuffed her to the car.”

“Oh don’t act like I’m some kind of villain Sam. Y/N spent time with Lucifer and started the connection, which means she doesn’t think straight when it comes to him. She wasn’t going to come here and to the panic room willingly so I made transportation a little easier.”

Bobby glared at the eldest Winchester, “Just because you’re sick’a arguin’ with your sister, doesn’t give you the right to handcuff her to the car. I’m not gonna let you force her into the panic room neither. Now I’m gonna talk to her about this cup o’crazy, and then we can decide what to do next.” He turned to Sam, “Go get your sister.”

Sam walked over to his brother, hand held out expectantly. Dean rolled his eyes but stood, digging in his pocket before dropping the handcuff key into Sam’s waiting hand.

Dean turned back to Bobby to argue but was cut off, “She’s gonna kill you when she gets in here boy, and I might just let her. What the hell were you thinking?”

“All I was doing was protecting my family. There’s no way Lucifer is just going to stop looking for her. The best way to keep her safe was to bring her here to the panic room.”

“You had no right to handcuff her to the car, Dean.”

Dean went to argue but was interrupted as the front door flew open, an irate Y/N plowing through with Sam scrambling on her heels.

“YOU BASTARD!”

“Y/N I-”

“Shut up! I don’t even want to hear you speak right now. I’m so pissed I can’t even see straight. What the hell were you thinking?!”

“I was just trying to keep you safe, Y/N. You’re my little sister, it’s my job.”

Bobby sauntered over to where Sam was standing by the fridge, “Please tell me you took all her weapons?”

“Are you kidding? I did that before I even uncuffed her from the car,” Sam whispered back.

He apparently wasn’t quiet enough, “You better be happy he did Dean Winchester because I’ve spent hours HANDCUFFED TO THE FUCKING CAR thinking of all the ways I could kill you. What the hell gave you that right to do that?”

“The panic room is the safest place for you right now. Along with the scribbles on your ribs, you wouldn’t be able to be found by anything or anyone. I just want you safe Y/N/N.”

“And you thought that was the way to go about it? If you just would’ve suggested we go to Bobby’s and weren’t hellbent on locking me in the panic room, I would’ve just gone! No argument! But no, Dean’s way is the only way and you essentially kidnapped me instead.”

“I’m sorry, okay? It was the best idea I had at the time.”

You scoffed, “Oh like you thought not telling me about Dad for over 25 years was a good idea?”

The color drained from Dean’s face, “That’s not fair.”

“Yeah, well, none of this is fair to me.”

Bobby made his way between you and your older brother, “Alright, ya idjits, back to your corners. We have enough to deal with without you two killin’ each other.” He turned to you, “What were you talkin’ about? What about John?”

You scoffed and stomped into the study, “Oh come on Bobby, like you didn’t know. You were Dad’s best friend for a while, there’s no way he didn’t tell you!”

Bobby followed you looking completely confused, “Y/N/N, I got no idea what you’re talking about. But I’d be appreciative if you filled me in.”

A single tear slipped down your cheek and you sighed, not wanting to relive the worst moment of your life. But Bobby deserved to know. “I’m not a Winchester. I’m not John’s daughter or Sam and Dean’s sister. I’m just a kid who was ditched on a motel doorstep.”

Bobby plopped down in his desk chair in stunned silence, “That’s… that’s not possible. Look at you two, you’re twins! Anyone can see that!”

“She’s telling the truth Bobby. Don’t feel too bad though, we didn’t know til a couple days ago. Dad and Dean decided that was a fact Y/N and I didn’t need to know. Dad saved Y/N’s biological mom on a hunt where her husband was killed. She didn’t want to raise a baby alone so she left her on Dad’s doorstep. He decided to keep her and, since her birthday was only a few days off, went with the story of us being twins,” Sam said sadly as he sat on the couch in the study.

“I’d say it’s impossible but, nothing is impossible when it comes to Winchesters.”

“Tell me about it,” you huffed.

“I ain’t tryin’ to rain on your pity parade Y/N, but we need to talk about what the hell is going on.”

You sighed and sat next to Sam, “I really don’t even know where to start anymore Bobby. So much has happened in the past few days.”

“Well kid, just start at the beginning.”

So you did, you told him about your first run in with Lucifer, Cas confirming he was your soulmate, but when you got to the part about your time in Hell Bobby stopped you. “Were none of you idjits gonna call me and tell me that she had been kidnapped and taken to Hell?”

“We had it taken care of Bobby, we got her out.” Dean answered.

“How exactly did you manage that?”

Dean was quiet and Sam looked down and rubbed the back of his neck. Obviously, they were reluctant to tell Bobby how they had rescued you from Hell.

“They sent Crowley for me. He was the only one who could get in and out without too much fanfare.”

Bobby rolled his eyes, “You know, I’m a little offended a crossroads demon knew Lucifer was your soulmate before I did. All Sam said when he called was to get everything I could on soulmates. What I got was that the connection was extremely rare, nothing talked about the fact that angels could have one.”

“That’s because Y/N is the first. According to Cas they don’t, but God must think she can give Lucifer a new view on humanity and prevent the apocalypse,” Sam explained.

Bobby gave you a thoughtful look, “Boys will you run upstairs and get one of the rooms ready for her? I know they’re gonna need new sheets and after everything she’s gonna sleep like the dead.” Your brothers gave Bobby a strange look but nodded and left the room.

You gave him a similarly strange look, “Alright ya old coot, why’d you send them away?”

He sighed, “What happened in Hell? What is your relationship with Lucifer like now? Because I know something about you is different.”

You dropped your head into your hands and rubbed over your eyes as you dragged them down and sighed, “I don’t know Bobby, nothing really significant if you think about it. I mean we talked a little, and then he left. But after he saved me, something changed. He helped me to the bed and I asked him to tell me everything. He just laughed and said in due time. And then he pushed a piece of hair behind my ear, kissed my forehead and left. When he left the room is when I realized something had changed because, I didn’t want him to go. And to be completely honest? I miss him. I miss being in Hell with him. It feels like a piece of me is missing, like something isn’t quite right ya know? God what’s happening to me, Bobby?” You pressed the heels of your hands to your temples; unsuccessfully hiding the tears that had begun to stream down your face.

Bobby moved to sit next to you on the couch and pulled you into his arms, “It’s gonna be okay, kid. I know you’re scared and that your idjit brothers ain’t exactly been helpful. We’ll figure out what our best option is and go from there. Now why don’t ya go upstairs and get some rest. Even if you don’t sleep just try to relax, give an old man some peace of mind would ya?”

You gave him a small smile and kissed him on the cheek, “Anything for you, Bobby. I’ll see you later.” You stood and headed up the stairs, passing Sam and Dean on their way back down.

“And don’t you do no research neither!” Bobby hollered after you, returning to his chair behind the desk.

“Yeah, yeah!” You tossed over your shoulder as you disappeared upstairs.

The boys moved from the base of the stairs and returned to their respective spots in the study, “Well?” Sam asked.

“If your face is any indication Bobby things are not good.” Dean moved to sit next to his brother and waited for Bobby to answer him.

“Well, they aren’t exactly bad neither.”

“That’s not comforting.”

“Well, Dean, what do you want? Your sister finally talked to me and, while I’m not exactly happy with this situation, it sure could be a hell of a lot worse.”

“How?! How exactly could this be worse?”

“Well if you’d shut your trap for two seconds, I’d tell ya.” Dean huffed but crossed his arms and stayed quiet. “Now nothing happened while she was in Hell, Lucifer didn’t do anything to her. But that connection you were telling me about? It’s definitely started.”

Sam sat forward, “How can you tell?”

“Uh, cuz she told me? She felt a shift in his behavior and her feelings toward him, less Satan and more archangel Lucifer. He kissed her forehead when she was in Hell; I think that physical contact is what caused it to start. But them being apart is definitely a tangible feeling for her, she said like a part of her is missing or that something just isn’t quite right. And well, she straight up misses him. Close your mouth Dean, I ain’t finished. Before you freak out, she ain’t a flight risk. She understands that something is happening to her and is keepin’ a level head about this. You boys need to be supportive and help her stay that way. The last thing she needs is more stress.”

Both brothers sighed and it was quiet for a few moments. Sam was the first to break the silence, “You’re right, but what are we going to do? If this is how Y/N is feeling, Lucifer can’t be feeling great. He’s going to come after her.”

Dean stood, “We’re gonna do whatever it takes to keep her safe. Lucifer is not going to get to her again.”

Read Chapter 10 Here

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yeet-or-be-hawed · 4 years

Text

Hunters of Flesh and Money Part 7 Arthur Morgan x reader

After receiving news that Arthur is missing, you do everything you can to help Sadie keep the gang safe while Arthur and the others are on Guarma.

Pining and Fluff with *GASP* FIRST KISS?!

*Writer’s note: I cannot tell you guys how long this has been in my drafts and I’m so glad we’ve finally gotten to this point! This has been one hell of a slow burn but its so worth the wait ❤ Thanks to everyone who’s been keeping up with this fic, its such a personal story for me and I’m glad it can be enjoyed by others. Please enjoy this happy loving reunion!

Part 6

Masterlist

The busy Saint Denis square was bustling around you as you flipped through your mail rather impatiently. It had been weeks since you had last written Arthur and gotten no response. Your anxieties were getting the better of you, had you scared him off with your intimacy? Had you finally decided to open up just to have him shut you out? You remembered his face as you gave him one last look when you dropped off his supplies. You were certain there was adoration behind those eyes and even through your anxious tendencies something felt off. Relief flooded you as you identified an envelope signed in Sadie’s handwriting. It seemed odd, as Arthur was usually the one who wrote out the address and formalities on the front, considering his handwriting was much neater. You opened the letter excitedly:

Dear Fletcher,

I wish I could be writing to you in better circumstances. Something terrible has happened and I need your help. Arthur is...the truth is I’m not sure where Arthur is. Meet me in Lagras and I’ll tell you more. Come quickly.

-Sadie

Your heart dropped to your stomach as you scanned the words on the paper. You reread it over and over again. Arthur is missing? Your chest felt like someone dropped an anvil on it and you crumpled the note into your satchel and mounted your horse.

The ride to Lagras felt like an eternity, your mind moving a thousand miles an hour. What was Sadie doing in Lagras? Would it not have been easier to meet her at their camp? You nearly jumped off your horse as you passed into Lagras, scanning the small cluster of buildings. Sadie was sitting on the porch of an old beaten down house, when she saw you she ran into your arms. “Fletcher, thank god!” she gasped.

You hugged her tightly and grabbed her by the shoulders. “Where’s Arthur? What’s going on?”

Sadie sighed shakily and whistled for her horse. “I’ll tell you on the way.”

You nodded.

Sadie led the way to Lakay and you followed close behind. “Few weeks ago, Dutch had this crazy idea of robbin’ the trolley station in Saint Denis- I know, don’t give me that look I thought it was stupid too. From what Charles was tellin’ me, lawmen showed up almost immediately. Dutch, Bill, Arthur, Javier, and Micah escaped on a boat but,” she sighed. “Who knows where though.”

You were speechless. “A boat?”

“Mhmm,” she nodded. “And that’s the last anyone saw of ‘em.” She turned her horse down the trail and you could see Lakay just ahead. “Pinkertons came a coupla days later and we had to move. I managed to get everyone out safe but...”

You looked at her and she looked tired. Her eyes were sunken in and she looked like she hadn’t slept in days. “I’m here to help, don’t worry.” you rode your horses to the hitching posts and slid off your horse. “Whatcha need, Sadie? I can bring supplies, I can keep guard, you tell me what I can do for you.”

She sighed in relief and put her hand on your shoulder. “I just need an extra hand keepin’ everyone together, and guard duty would help.” She laughed weakly. “I don’t got much money right now, but a wagon load of food and dry clothes would be appreciated.”

“Keep your money Sadie, I’ll run back to camp at first light.” You looked up at the evening sky, melting from day to night. “I’ll keep guard for the night, you get some rest.”

“It’s okay, I can-”

“No,” you cut her off sternly. “You been through enough, you asked me to help and that’s why I’m here.”

She hugged you tight, you could feel just how skinny she had become since losing her home. “Thank you,” she whispered.

You gave her a gentle squeeze. “You’re welcome.”

You watched as Sadie disappeared into the small cabin, you could hear the commotion of others, the sound of conversations but you couldn’t make out the words. You pulled your shotgun from your back and sat on a bench. Your mind trailed back to Arthur, where could he be? You had never even been on a boat, you wondered what it was like. The gnawing in your stomach wouldn’t leave, it twisted and turned and showed you scenario after scenario of Arthur, dead on some beach or shot and thrown off the side of the boat into the sea. You sighed and looked up at the sky. The stars were bright tonight, you prayed Arthur was okay, looking at the same sky as you as he made his way home. You weren’t sure how, but you clung to the hope he would find his way back to you.

The nights on Guarma were cooler and less muggy than the day. This island paradise Dutch had dreamed for them was more or less a reality now, but not the reality any of them had hoped for. He looked over at the others, asleep on the ground beside of him. No matter how he laid, pressure against his burnt body made him uncomfortable. His skin was bright red, worse than any sunburn he had ever gotten. The jungle was full of unfamiliar sounds that kept him awake, everything here was so different, and even with his fellow gang members laying beside him he felt so alone. The thought of you danced across his mind and his chest seized. Would you ever find out what happened to him if he died here? Or would you just think he abandoned you and moved on to the next state? Would you grieve him, or would you even notice he was gone? The feeling of your lips pressed against his forehead returned to him and he knew he would make it home, he had to. Arthur looked up at the sky, no matter how far he was from home, he could still see the stars shining on him. He promised himself he would make his way back home, back to you. The thought of you kept him going.

You stifled a yawn as the morning sun rose over the trees. The night was uneventful, not even a single rider passed through. Your body felt heavy but now wasn’t the time for sleep, the second you were relieved of guard duty, you had to ride back to camp and get supplies. The door opened, but Sadie wasn’t the one who walked out. A woman with dark hair pulled into a bun sat beside you with a repeater in her hands. Her eyes were pink and swollen and it looked like she hadn’t slept at all through the night. “I can take over from here.”

You cocked an eyebrow at her, “you sure?”

“Yeah,” she snapped back. “Why?”

“Looks like you could use a bit more sleep, if I’m bein’ honest.”

She didn’t look at you, her eyes stared vacantly out into the trees. “Cain’t sleep.” She mumbled, her frustrated tone melted away.

You put a hand on her back. “You worried bout your friends?”

She laughed humorlessly. “I don’t know what he is to me anymore. My husband? The father of my child? A man i cain’t stand? Or a man I can’t live without?” She ran her fingers through her hair. “And the boy...” her voice cracked and she trailed off.

You could see the tears welling up in her eyes and you shifted uncomfortably, this wasn’t exactly your strong suit. “Him and the others, they’ll be back. If they’re anything like Arthur, they’re tough enough to get through hell and back.”

She looked at you and gave you a soft smile. “You’re her, aren’t you? The woman who came to camp awhile back and brought the wagon of food and furs right?”

You nodded.

“I’ve heard him talk about you- usually when he’s too drunk to know what he’s sayin’. I also heard him askin’ Hosea for advice.” She paused and swallowed the lump in her throat. “Me and John, we ain’t- we aren’t the best couple, we spend more time arguin’ and bitin’ at each others throats but I love him. Goddamn it, I love that man so much it hurts. You seem to care a lot about Arthur, I can tell. Don’t let yourself get in the way of your own happiness.”

You were speechless, certainly the heat you felt across your face and neck was from the humid swampy air. “I-“ you cleared your throat. “I need to get back to camp, I’ll be back with food and blankets. Is Sadie awake?”

The woman nodded.

You stood and opened the door. You looked over your shoulder as you stepped into the threshold. “What was your name?”

She gave you a friendly smile, “Abigail.”

You nodded and entered the small cabin. The amount of people stuffed inside was shocking, you recognized a couple of people from the last time you saw Arthur. You tried to avoid making eye contact as you made your way to the corner where Sadie was cleaning a rifle, the bags under her eyes weren’t as dark and she looked more alert. “Have a good night’s rest?”

“Bout as good as I could get.” She set the rifle down beside her. “How was it last night?”

You shrugged. “If you were lookin’ for a quiet place in the middle of no where you sure as hell found it, I didn’t see a soul.”

She nodded, “good. The less we gotta move the better.”

You pulled a piece of parchment and a pen from your satchel. “Tell me what ya need, Sadie.”

“Well, we don’t need too much-“

“Stop, don’t worry bout puttin’ me out. I got enough money stocked up it ain’t gonna hurt me one bit to help y’all out. Now tell me, what do you need?”

She sighed. “Food is the main thing, we ain’t picky anything will do.”

You nodded as you scribbled on the paper. “I got plenty of meat stocked. What else?”

“We salvaged the blankets you brought us, but just bout all of us soaked through our shoes. I know they’re a lot of work so it’s fine if you can’t-“

You gave her a dismissive wave. “Okay, shoes. I’ll also need to know how many ya got with ya, how many men and women. Any kids?”

Sadie paused briefly to count on her fingers, “six women, six men, and one little boy.”

You nodded as you jotted it down. “How bout clothes? It’s mostly furs and leather goods so I’m not sure how useful it would be during the day, but maybe when it gets colder at night?”

Sadie nodded. “If you have any spare shirts or pants layin’ around that would be nice.”

You nodded. “How bout horses? I got a Suffolk Punch that drives the wagon, I wont be doin’ any deliveries any time soon so I can let you borrow him after I get the supplies down here.”

“Nah,” Sadie said. “We got plenty, but if you have any spare hay or carrots that would be appreciated.”

You nodded and scanned over your list. “I ain’t too far from Saint Denis, you need me to grab anything from the store?”

Sadie thought for a moment. “Some more ammo would be great, if you could check the post office that would be a big help too. The guys made quite a ruckus so I ain’t let anybody outta sight. The alias is-“

“Tacitus Kilgore?”

She smiled. “Yes. But you really don’t gotta go outta your way for us, the leather goods and food is more than enough.”

You shook your head. “You’ve helped me through more rough spots than I can count. Plus,” you rubbed your neck sheepishly, “I uh, I know how much these people mean to him-to Arthur. I just...”

Sadie put her hand on yours. “I know.” She paused. “Okay you best be gettin’ on the road.”

You nodded, “right.”

When you arrived back to camp, the wagon was full and Cripps was hard at work on tanning hides. You read the list of things to him, “we got enough stockpiled or do I need to go huntin’?”

Cripps scanned the list carefully, looking up at the wagon occasionally then back down to the list. “What’s already loaded was supposed to be for the Vermont order which is mostly smoked meats and winter wear. I’ll work on gettin’ the rest if you want to head on into Saint Denis. I should have everything else ready and loaded up by the time you get back.”

You sighed in relief, the grumpy old man you used to barely tolerate was becoming one of your best friends. “Thank you Cripps, this means a lot to me. Do you think you can hold down fort while I help out Sadie and the gang?”

“Of course!” He puffed out his chest confidently. “I was gunslingin’ and robbin’ before you were born. Do what you gotta do.”

You nodded and tipped your hat as you headed towards Ophelia to mount up. The quiet ride to Saint Denis allowed your mind to wander and it fell back to Arthur. How long exactly would it take for him to come back? Weeks, or maybe months? The pit in your stomach reformed- would he come back? The thought made your chest seize, it felt like you couldn’t breath. No, you had to believe he was coming back, he is coming back. But again, how long? Cripps was right, you were confident in his ability to run the camp while you were away and you both had stashed money back so it wouldn’t hurt the business to halt production for awhile, but how long could you hold off? You shook the thought from your mind, this wasn’t about you. This was about the people you promised to help. This was about keeping the people Arthur cares about safe and making sure he had his family waiting for him when he returns. Deep down, it was also about being there when he returns. You wanted to hear his voice again, take in his scent. You needed to feel his arms around you again. You weren’t going to let the fleeting happiness he brought slip through the cracks.

There was nothing under the alias of Tacitus and you were unsurprised but disappointed that you had nothing as well. Logically you knew there was no way for him to write you, but a small part of you still hoped for an envelope with his scrolling handwriting.

Next stop was the gun shop, not far from the post office. The congested streets were a nuisance to say the least. You rolled your eyes as a man walked into the street and almost right under the hooves of your horse- then cursed you for not watching where you were going. You had to ignore the urge to respond, now wasn’t the time to get into fights and call attention to yourself, you rolled your eyes and continued.

The street that the small gun shop was nestled on wasn’t as busy, but you weren’t as keen to leave your horse out here for long, you tethered her close to the window.

“Welcome!” The man behind the counter exclaimed as you entered. “What can I help you wish today?”

“I need some ammo, regular rounds for repeaters, rifles, and pistols. I’d also like a box of slugs for the shotgun.”

The man’s thick eyebrows went up into his hairline and he pulled the boxes. “Stocking up today, eh?”

You nodded as you pulled out your billfold.

“Seems like everyone has been on high alert since the trolley incident.”

“Oh?” Could he be talking about Arthur?

“You hadn’t heard?”

You shook your head no.

“A group of hooligans tried to rob the trolley station- why I don’t know. But they damn near shot up the whole town on their way out, some say they escaped on a boat, others say they’re still ridin’ around north east of here. Apparently one got captured and is on his way to Siska.”

This peaked your attention. “Siska?”

“Yeah, I don’t know too much about the details but it was in the paper a few weeks back.”

“You don’t happen to still have it do you?”

“I might,” he shuffled around to the back of his store, and returned with a folded newspaper. “I collect them, so it’ll cost you-“

You pulled $10 from your billfold and handed it to him. “This oughta do.”

“It most certainly will.” He handed you the paper. “Do you need help carrying the ammo out as well?”

“I got it, thanks for everything!” You called back to him as you loaded your arms full.

“No, thank you.” He said as he counted his money.

You stuffed the newspaper into your satchel and loaded the supplies onto your horse. The day was passing quickly and the longer you were away from Sadie and the others, you grew more uneasy. You pushed Ophelia hard, it didn’t take long to return to camp, she didn’t even come to a full stop before you jumped off her back.

“Perfect timing,” Cripps called from the other side of the wagon. “You’re all loaded up and ready to go.”

You hugged him and he guffawed in surprise. “Hey now, didn’t I tell you you were too old for me?”

You laughed with him, “you did, I just hope you know how much I appreciate you and your help.”

“Don’t you start goin’ soft on me or I’ll have to find a new business partner.” He joked.

You rolled your eyes, “as if you could find a gun half as good as me.”

“You’re right,” his voice has a rare sentimental tone. “So you better come back.”

“I will.”

You checked the wagon to make sure everything was secured then mounted up. Cripps called to you just before you could whip the reins. “Take that damn dog with you!”

“You sure?” You called back.

“Hell yeah I’m sure, if you ain’t here I ain’t takin’ care of that mangy mutt.”

“Thanks Cripps.” You responded sarcastically. “Jake!”

Jake jumped up from his spot and ran to the wagon. “C’mere boy, jump up you can do it!”

He wiggled his butt in anticipation for the jump and lept up. He made it just barely and had to pull himself up onto the bench. You gave him a pat on the head and waved to Cripps as you whipped the reins. As you pulled onto the road you gave a sharp whistle and Ophelia wasn’t far behind.

It was early evening by the time you returned to Lakay, another woman had taken Abigail’s spot on guard. She was older with a knot of gray hair on top of her head. She raised her gun to you as you stopped in front of the worn down shack. Before you could speak, Sadie was through the door. “You’re back!”

With Sadie’s approval, the woman lowered her gun and you climbed down the wagon. “Delivery for Mrs. Adler?”

She wrapped her arms around your neck, “thank you so much.”

“It weren’t nothin’,” you said. “I also brought a friend.” You gave a short whistle and Jake jumped down and stood by your side. You gave him a pat on the head, “He’s a good boy, trained him myself. He was a hunting dog but I trained him to bark at the sign of threat so he’ll make a great guard dog.�� You made a clicking noise and pointed to the porch. He immediately responded by sitting in the spot you pointed to and keeping an alert watch. “Okay, lets get some extra hands and get this wagon unloaded.”

To your surprise, it was mostly women who helped unload the wagon, the exception being the man named Charles that helped you find Trelawny. He seemed to recognize you when he greeted you with a grunt but he didn’t say much after. With the help of the others, it didn’t take long to bring the supplies inside. One of the men, a pear shaped man with a moustache went to work with the meats you brought and a rusty stew pot in the fireplace. You took a seat beside the window and pulled out the newspaper. There on the front page was a picture of Arthur. The other men Sadie had mentioned were also pictured, you recognized the one called Bill from the mayor’s party but your eyes just kept floating back to Arthur. The sketch was rough and didn’t do him any justice at all, but the sight of him still took your breath away. There wasn’t much in the article that you hadn’t already heard from Sadie, but it seemed like the owner of the gun shop was right- under the article there was a picture of a man with long dark hair. The name under the picture was John Marston, apparently he had been caught while the others made their escape. He was sent to Siska to await trial.

“Whatcha readin’?” Sadie asked as she pulled a chair up beside you. You handed her the paper.

She scanned it and sighed. “I read this the day it came out. Still cain’t believe they got John.” Her eyes shifted pointedly to Abigail and the little boy that was sleeping in her lap. “It’s got Abigail all kinds of torn up.”

You nodded, the boy in her lap looked identical to the man in the picture. “I talked to her a little bit this morning, I could tell she was upset.”

“It’s been rough the last couple months to say the least. We lost some good people, and it don’t feel like we’re gettin’ much closer to anything better.”

You put your hand on her shoulder, “I know you’ve been through a lot, but I’m here to help. I got everything arranged so that I can stay here with you guys. I may not be able to replace the ones you’ve lost, but I want to help however I can to get you all through this.”

A week passed, in that week you learned all the names of the new people you’d been staying with and began getting to know them. The more you got to know these people, the more you sympathized for them. Everyone had their own piece of the story which created the grand picture of just what Arthur’s life was like. They had lost so many recently, you could see the grieving in their eyes and hear it in their voices as they spoke of those who were gone. One thing that everyone had in common was their unwavering love and devotion to the patchwork family they had made, it left you with a bittersweet feeling in your heart. You had never even traveled with more than a few people and it never lasted long-some of these people have been together for as long as they could remember.

“Hello dear girl,” Trelawny’s singsong voice broke your train of thought and pulled your attention from the rain streaked window.

“Hey Josiah,” you said as he pulled up a chair beside you.

“I hear you’ve been making friends,” he paused to read your reaction. “I never pegged you as one for friends.”

You crossed your arms, “we’re friends.”

“We are, but how long were you coming to me for work before you trusted me?”

You shrugged, “it’s different now. I ain’t doin’ this for me. I’m doing it for-“

“I know.” He nodded his head and looked at his clasped hands. “He would ask me about you sometimes.”

“Really?” You tried and failed to keep your voice from sounding eager, you cleared your throat. “What did he-what would be ask?”

“Oh, you know...” he said as he stretched out to lean against the chair. “How long I had known you, where you were from,” he chuckled. “He was trying to be nonchalant but I noticed how much more he frequented visiting me. He would loiter around my caravan half making conversation- until they tried to take me again that is. Luckily Arthur was there and drove them off, but he decided it was best I stay with them until things cooled down.”

You nodded, “I was wondering when you had left, I stopped by a couple times. Almost got shot by the new tenant, that was the last time I went.” You smirked, “shoulda known you were runnin’ around with this group.”

“I may be overstepping my boundaries by saying this, but I think a certain few would agree. You’re more than welcome to stay with our little traveling circus if you see fit. I know it would make him happy.”

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat. “I dunno Josiah...”

He raised himself from his chair and put a hand on your shoulder. “Think about it, I know you’re more of a loner but sometimes we need others.” He looked at you over his shoulder before leaving. “We need love.”

You huffed as you leaned your head against the glass pane, the small cabin felt like it just shrunk ten sizes.

Another week passes and the food you brought was running low. After you packed your satchel with scent cover, bait, and a couple night’s rations you headed to the table where Sadie and Charles were sitting.

“Hello,” Charles greeted you.

“Hey y’all,” you said as you sat down. “I’m goin’ out to do some hunting, Pearson is runnin’ low on meat. Think you can handle yourselves until I get back?”

Sadie laughed, “course we can. How long are you gonna be gone?”

“I ain’t gonna leave ya for too long, two days at most. I want to be sure I get enough I won’t have to leave for another week or so.”

“Want me to come with you?” Charles asked.

“Nah, I got it. You stay here and help Sadie keep watch.” You rose from your seat, “want me to check the mail while I’m out?”

“We sent Pearson to check a couple days ago, you should be fine.” Charles said.

You nodded and stood, as you walked towards the door Sadie called to you, “don’t let the gators get ya!”

You rolled your eyes and waved two fingers back to her as you left through the threshold. You? Eaten by gators? It was almost as insult to assume you were that big of an amateur.

Karen was on guard duty this time, slumped against the outer wall of the cabin, you tipped your hat to her as you rode out.

Arthur clutched the note from Sadie in his hand as he pushed his spurs into his horse. Just before he reached Shady Belle, his whole body was aching and sore. Now he had a clear idea of where his family was and he felt wide awake and ready to go. He hadn’t slept since he got off the boat and he didn’t plan on resting his head until he knew his family was safe. He had gone his separate ways with the others, all following their own leads as to where their rag tag group had gone without them.

He rode upon a crossroad and his heart was being tugged in two different directions- one way was Lakay, his family and friends. The other was the way to your camp, or at least the last place your camp was set. Who knows where you were now? With a huff he headed towards Lakay. First thing he would do when he found the others would be to write you. Everytime his life flashed before his eyes on Guarma, you were what he saw. The thought of you pushed him when everything felt hopeless and even when he tried to push you from his mind, you were still there at the forefront begging him to return home to you. He half expected the boat to sink on the way back from Guarma, or another storm to end him then and there. Arthur never felt like a lucky man, but the second his feet hit solid ground he felt like he had cheated death himself.

He felt himself tense as he entered Lakay, he was certain it was Sadie’s handwriting in the letter but he wasn’t certain he wasn’t walking straight into a trap. He slowed his horse to a slow trot as he surveyed the small village.

Tension melted as he spotted Abigail and Pearson, just outside a run down cabin.

“Arthur! Arthur’s here!” Pearson exclaimed as he walked up.

“Arthur, oh thank god you’re alive!” Abigail said as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “Come on inside,” she said excitedly as she led him in.

He was greeted with the familiar faces of his whole family, but he didn’t quite feel whole just yet.

The sun was setting as you led Ophelia back into Lakay, she was loaded down with skins and meats from birds and gators, you were certain you wouldn’t have to leave for atleast a week and a half with the load you had acquired. As you approached the cabin, the air seemed different. Usually there were no lights on once the sun began to fall to avoid drawing attention, but you could see the golden glow seeping between boards and could hear voices all the way from the middle of the run down little village. That’s when you saw it-the beautiful Arabian hitched to a tree.

“Arthur?” Your whispered, your voice trembling.

Arthur was bombarded with questions and information from the second he entered the threshold. He wasn’t the first, Micah and Javier had already made it back but Dutch and Bill still hadn’t arrived. He told his story, and the others told theirs. Sadie was leaned against the wall, she was hiding something and he couldn’t quite read her face. After hearing from Abigail about John, he joined her against the wall.

“Thank you,” he said quietly. “For takin’ care of everybody. I don’t know how you were able to do it on your own-“

“Oh, I wasn’t on my own.” She said smugly.

He cocked an eyebrow, “who-“

She smirked, “they stepped out to do some hunting yesterday morning, should be back soon.” She pushed herself from the wall and ingrained herself into the crowd.

Arthur huffed and crossed his arms. He took a seat beside the fire and pulled out his journal.

Arthur didn’t realize he had began to drift to sleep until the door slammed open and a sopping wet Dutch walked through the door. He was greeted excitedly, and things were finally starting feel like home again. As Dutch began his speech of hope, Arthur stepped out for a cigarette.

As his name left your lips, the door to the cabin opened and time stood still. His face was tilted downward, one hand bringing a cigarette to his lips. You didn’t need to see his face to know it was him.

“Arthur,” you repeated again, your voice barely above a whisper. You swallowed back the growing lump in your throat as your feet remembered how to run. “Arthur!” You called.

He looked up, the voice he had been aching for calling to him. His cigarette damn near fell out of his mouth. His feet were moving now too.

You were running now and you could feel the tears welling in your eyes but you didn’t care. Your heart beat grew faster and faster the closer you got, he was here, he was home. Every fear had been dissolved, every caution shooed away by the swelling of your heart. You crashed into eachother and his big arms were around your waist again. The train whistle was no more as you grabbed his face and kissed him hard.

He didn’t feel the sting of his lingering sunburn on his cheeks when you grabbed them, all he could feel was your lips against his and it was the only thing he cared about. He could taste the saltiness of tears and couldn’t tell if they were his or yours. The rain was coming down hard now, but the only thing he felt was your lips against his and your hands cradling his cheeks.

Your choked back sob broke the kiss, leaving you both breathless. Your hands clung to the wet fabric of his shirt as you buried your face into his chest. “Arthur, I-I was so afraid- I was never gonna-“

“I know, darlin’ me too.” He kissed the crown of your head and took in your scent, he almost forgot how much it intoxicated him. “I’m back now, I’m here.”

You looked up and got a good look at his face, he was bruised and his skin was bright red, burnt from the harsh sun. “I’m sorry I- I’m sorry I pushed you away, I was so afraid of losing you but...when I got that letter from Sadie saying you were missing I just-“ your breathing hitched again, and this time it was his lips crashing down against yours. You felt so foolish for denying yourself of this- of him. Your lips moved with his now, you could feel the desperation he felt through his cracked chapped lips.

Sadie noticed Arthur’s disappearance and scanned the room, he wasn’t there. She stepped to the window and scanned through the sheets of rain. First she saw Ophelia, then she saw you and Arthur. Her hand came to her chest as she smiled. “Finally,” she said under her breath. She gave them a moment, they surely needed it. But when she turned back a few minutes later and saw the two of you still kissing she rolled her eyes.

Though it felt like the world had stopped around the two of you, you were reminded that the earth was still spinning when you heard Sadie’s voice call to you. “You two better get in before you catch sickness!”

The two of you pulled apart suddenly, and Arthur chuckled. “Guess she’s right, it’s comin’ down pretty hard.”

You nodded, the drops of rain felt icy as they landed on your hot cheeks. Arthur’s hand was around yours now and it felt as natural as walking. With your spare hand, you grabbed Ophelia’s reins.

“Sadie told me she had some help keepin’ everyone together, guess you was the one she was talkin’ about.” Arthur said, his classic crocked smile was wider than usual.

You shrugged, also unable to contain the wide grin on your face. “It weren’t nothin’,” you stopped Ophelia just in front of the small porch and tethered her. Arthur helped you unload your hunting quarry. “You know I cain’t tell Sadie no, and when I got here and saw all those faces,” you looked at him. “I knew I had to stay. I thought to myself, ‘what would Arthur do?’ So I loaded up the wagon, brought some food and clothes, and I been here ever since.”

Arthur stopped and turned back to you, “you been here this whole time? What about Cripps? And your trade route?”

You shrugged, “he can handle himself. I told him I’d be back when everything cleared over. Plus,” your eyes fell to the ground. “I uh, I knew this would be the best place to find you when you came back.”

When you looked back up at him, he had a very strong urge to kiss you again- had his arms not been full he would’ve. He had never seen so much love in the eyes of a woman, not for him. You put everything on hold, stopped what you were doing to save his family, to wait for him. His feet felt frozen as you walked past him into the threshold. I love her so much. The thought was so sudden it shook him to the core. He loved you? He swallowed the lump in his throat, and through the streaked window pane he could see the rejoice of his family as you entered the shack, greeting you with smiling faces and helping hands took the load from your arms. You were smiling too, and he sighed in content. There was no point lying to himself, as he entered the threshold and your eyes fell on him, you had a smile on your lips, just for him. He loved you with his whole heart and he wasn’t afraid of it anymore.

The commotion was wearing down, and Dutch was very aware of the new face among his group. She was pretty, strong, and her hands were wrapped around Arthur’s as they talked in front of the hearth. It didn’t take a genius to see the adoration in his son’s eyes, Hosea had mentioned a woman to him not too long before the trolley job.

“I think Arthur’s finally found someone.” Hosea said as they were sitting under the gazebo. It was a fair day in Shady Belle, not too muggy for Dutch to enjoy the weather.

He shifted in his seat, “really?”

Hosea nodded. “I’ve noticed he’s been...different lately. Leavin’ our more often, distracted, he hadn’t been drinkin’ as much either.” Hosea flipped the page of the newspaper he was reading. “I had my suspicions when he started getting letters, but she came by the other day.”

Dutch sat up in his seat, uneasy. “When?”

Hosea looked at him, that scolding eye falling directly on him. “While you were out riding. She’s the one to thank for those crates of supplies.” He nodded pointedly to the crates beside Pearson’s wagon. His gaze softened. “You should’ve seen him,” Hosea said as his eyes shifted to Arthur, Dutch’s eyes followed. “He was smilin’ the whole time, his whole demeanor was just....different.”

“You think we can trust her?” Dutch asked in a hushed tone.

Hosea returned his gaze to his newspaper and shrugged. “Arthur seems to trust her, shouldn’t we?”

Dutch huffed, Hosea made a good point. Arthur knew better than to lead random strangers back to camp, once again, Hosea comforted the paranoid worries that plagued him so.

“Here’s your coffee,” Sadie said as she handed him the mug, pulling him from his memories. He felt a painful throb in his heart as his last memory of Hosea shifted back to his mind.

He nodded and took the mug from her. “Sadie?”

She stopped and turned back to him. “What is it?”

“Can I ask you something?”

She studied him, Dutch was always so hard to read. She took a seat beside him. “Sure.”

He took a sip from his coffee and his gaze went back to Arthur. “What do you think? About her?”

Sadie’s gaze followed his and she smiled. “I’ve known her for years, she’s like family.”

Dutch nodded, but said nothing. Arthur laughed, and even Dutch couldn’t question the affect you had on him.

“If she decides to stay, she’ll be one of your best.” Sadie said, and with that she was gone.

Dutch stared into his coffee. Sadie’s words were reassuring, but he could still hear the paranoid voice in the back of his mind. Without Hosea, he could feel it growing louder and more persistent every day.

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crapitskizaru · 5 years

Text

Kidbad™️ x Reader (Sinbad!Eustass Kid)

I thinks after many glorious kidbad edits we need a scenario with his s/o from the movie 😂.Maybe the part when the island comes to life when they stoped to repair and arguining I can see them doing that.

Warning: dumbass kiddo cuz this is how im trying to comfort myself after dino disaster™️

Word Count: 1,6k

He caressed the ship’s side with affection, as if he was sharing an intimate moment with his lover.

“How did one person do so much damage?” he muttered more to himself than to the dog but Spike responded anyway, wiggling his tail enthusiastically.

“You like them, don’t you?” Kid couldn’t help but pat the dog’s back. “You damn traitor.”

The island they temporarily stopped at seemed promising - at least from afar. They determined there should be enough wood to repair the damages; even though Kid knew the ship would have been fine without any renovations, his eyes hurt whenever they landed on broken pieces of once-impressive and, far more important, expensive mahogany carvings lying around the deck.

“All right, listen up. We’re here for ten minutes,” Killer announced. “You get lost, you get left.”

With a deep sigh, the captain gathered himself from the floor. His crew was already leaving the ship, mostly to feel a steady ground beneath their feet. Repairing their captain’s beloved ship was one of the lowest points on their list of priorities, but Kid couldn’t complain - as long as they brought the essential materials.

“So I’m going to need a full set of chisels, the jack plane, and about a cord of cut wood.”

“You heard the captain. Find some logs and be quick about it.” Killer grabbed a bucket and started getting off the ship himself. He wanted to add some comforting words at the sight of Kid’s pained expression when the man discovered yet another scratch on the ship’s side.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake!” Your voice made Kid flinch halfway through patting the damaged railing. “You only need a little tree sap, and she’ll be as good as new.”

“When I want your advice, I’ll-” he stopped abruptly when you jumped onto the island’s ground, ignoring his words, a bucket in hand. “Hey, hey, hey! Where do you think you’re going?”

Kid tried to suppress the incoming wave of anger when all of the response he got from you was silence - and your back turned to him.

“Well, fine. At least take someone with y-”

Words got stuck in his throat and got smothered away as soon as he spotted the rest of his crew surrounding you, stupid grins plastered on their faces.

“Why, thank you,” you chimed, putting on a little act just to see the hateful expression of your captain’s. “How nice to see some men haven’t forgotten a little common courtesy.”

Killer was about to leave the ship but he stopped at the sound of someone gritting their teeth.

“Common courtesy,” Kid muttered. “Not so fast, Killer.”

“But you know they’re right. The tree sap would be perfect for-”

“Just. Stay with the ship.”

Kid didn’t like the suppressed sigh of his first mate - this kind of sigh a parent lets out when their child keeps whining to get a new toy. Kid didn’t like the island either; the sun was shining just too brightly, the trunks of trees too thin to make use of, the ground far too dry.

And them. Still accompanied by Kid’s dumb mates, they wandered around with that annoying, innocent expression on their face. Kid struggled to keep up on the steep hill of the island.

“I already said ‘thank you’!” he yelled after the group. “That’s what this is all about, isn’t it?”

“It’s about repairing the ship.” You approached the first tree you could lay your eyes on. “If I break something, I fix it. Um, knife, please.”

“Oh, yeah, like I’d give you a weapon?”

Never before had Kid felt so betrayed by his crew than at that moment. The knives they always spent so much time on sharpening were now eagerly offered up to literally the worst person that ever walked on the planet.

“Thank you, Heat,” you smirked flirtatiously and grabbed his knife. It took a lot of effort, but eventually you managed to cut through the tree’s bark and catch the flowing stream of its sap into the bucket.

“You know, you really need to be more courteous, captain. He, he.” Heat didn’t get a chance to react when his captain’s fist landed directly on his face, sending him backward.

“Oh, great,” Kid murmured. “Now I’m getting etiquette lessons from a fried bilge rat.”

“Well, they did save the ship, captain.”

“Why, thank you, Wire.”

“And now they’re helping to fix it!”

“Very handy, I say. And brave-”

“This...disaster of a person wouldn’t know how to fix a broken fingernail!” Kid snarled, waves of heat circulating through his chest. They already destroyed his ship, stole his crew, even his dog, with their stupid remarks and bravery. And charms. And their quick wits. And-

“Honestly, you’re the most boorish, pig-headed man I’ve ever met,” they complained, piercing him with a glare.

“Oi, kitten. I’ve seen the highborn boys your type hangs out with...and I’m the only man you’ve ever met.”

By the shocked gasps his crew must have faked, Kid figured he may have gone too far - his worries evaporating in a speed of light as soon as a bucket hit the back of his head, cold, slimy liquid running down his spine.

He turned around with a smirk. Did they really want to start a fight with him?

“Oh, no. No, no-” You had to stop and close your mouth so that you wouldn’t swallow a missile of stinky mud which hit your face with surprising strength, making you stumble.

He was unbearable. He was awful. He was just the worst.

“You...you...” You searched for an accurate adjective while wiping the mud off of your face. “Egoistical...”

“You spoiled...”

“-disrespectful,” A particular, and also quite unfortunate, lobster crawling around seemed just right to be used as a projectile so you picked it up. “Pretentious, pompous-”

“Deluded!” Kid shook his goggles to get rid of the tree sap inside of them. “High and mighty...”

But you were already too pumped up to care about anything he wanted to say, now throwing every little, or not so little, thing that had been unlucky to lay within close proximity. “-self-centered, untrustworthy, ungrateful, impossible, insufferable...”

“At least I’m not repressed!” Kid yelled, finally stopping your rant.

“Repressed?” The question ended up being gritted through your teeth. “I’ll show you repressed!”

You snatched a plank from the ground - it must have been attached to a root, but the boiling anger in your gut gave you a surge of strength as you lifted it up and was about to poetically slap your captain across the face and knock away that stupid expression.

But before you made your new dream come true, the ground shivered underneath your feet.

“What the...?”

All the trees and bushes suddenly disappeared, as if sucked into the island. You were blinded by a sudden light and a lantern, a huge ball of white, moved towards your group.

“Put it back,” Kid ordered, separating the words, and for once - you listened.

If the island turned out to be an enormous sea creature...Your chances of making it back to the ship were dropping with each second.

The ground moved again, revealing an eyeball the size of a swimming pool; and it was staring straight at you.

“Ew!” you couldn’t help but flinch.

“Ew!” Heat grimaced as he lost his balance and fell right onto the eye, landing on a slimy substance. “Ew!” he exclaimed once again when Spike started to lick the mucus with awful enthusiasm.

“Run!” Kid’s roar snapped you out of the paralysis as all of your crewmates - including you - suddenly discovered their hidden talent in sprinting with the speed of light. “It’s a fucking fish! Killer!”

You were far too scared to care about Kid practically shouting into your ear, your legs seemingly lifting you off the ground and into the air, gusts of wind blowing around your whole frame.

Kid noticed the gap between the fish’s flipper and its body before you did. “Jump!”

And so you jumped, not paying attention to how wide the gap was - for all you cared, it could be the size of the Grand Canyon and you would have still taken a leap - what mattered was getting to the ship in one piece and sailing away.

You lost your balance on the other side, stumbling forward and into the arms of the most annoying man on Earth. But he did soften your landing, so you sent him a thankful smile.

He was about to say something but you were soon whooshed away by the rest of the crew making it through the precipice, all of you sliding down the fish’s side - you were blinded by speed, tearing up, the rush of air knocking the breath out of your lungs.

With the corner of your eye, you noticed Killer guiding the ship in your direction.

Thank you, God, for Killer, you managed to think before you were once again launched into the air.

You were already starting to worry about getting your face smashed into the wooden deck before a pair of arms caught you, and you found yourself in the embrace of the worst captain the world had ever seen. But you wouldn’t ever swap him for any other captain, no way.

Landing on two feet beside Killer, you and Kid watched in awe as the giant fish moved from its previous spot, preparing to swim away and sending a whole wave of salty ocean water into the deck of the ship.

As the fish submerged, only the creaking of the railing and the annoyed groans of the crew disturbed the silence.

“I don’t know about you,” Kid panted slightly, taunting you with a raised eyebrow. “But I ain’t ever doing this shit again.”

#eustass kid #kidbad #one piece #xoxobb #one piece scenario #eustass kid x reader #one piece imagines #one piece imagine #op imagine #op imagines #killer #heat #wire

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the-awkward-outlaw · 5 years

Text

Second Chances - Ch. 13

The Sweetheart Tree

Warnings: fluff (so much fluff!), angst, smut

Word Count: ~8200

You’ve been at Clemens Point with the gang for a few weeks now. Dutch has gotten quite involved with the two most prominent families in Rhodes, the Grays and the Braithwaites. You’ve learned, via information brought by Arthur, that the sheriff Lee Gray is a drunkard and quite soft-minded. Easy enough to fool. The Braithwaites, as reported by Hosea, are a much tougher sell. Their matriarch, Catherine, is an older woman with multiple sons. According to Hosea, back during the war, they were heavily involved with the Confederate troops, and the ending of the war with the Union win hit them hard, turning them to sell illegal amounts of moonshine in order to keep up their name. The Grays had already taken many efforts in order to shut down their alcohol business, but with little impact on the Braithwaites.

Arthur returns in the afternoon, closely followed by a heavily-sweating Dutch. They had left earlier that day to go with Sheriff Gray on a job in order to better earn the Grays’ trust. You see Arthur hop off of Artemis and Dutch walk up to him, speaking words and patting him on the shoulder. You can’t hear anything they say to one another, being over with the other girls doing laundry. You see Dutch walk away from Arthur, a proud smile on his face. Arthur looks after him curiously, then he spots you. His face splits into a massive grin and he walks quickly over to you. You put down your sewing tools and meet him halfway. He pulls you into a bone-crushing hug.

“Ah, I missed ya, darlin’,” he says.

“Arthur, you only saw me this morning. You’re acting like we ain’t seen each other in days.”

“What? So I can’t miss my girl for even a few hours?” he says playfully.

You lean back from him and grin. “Well, if it’s any consolation, I missed you, too.”

Sean struts back, huffing. “You two!” he snides jokingly. “Always wrappin’ ‘round each otter! If it gets any hotter ‘tween the two of you, we’ll soon have ‘noder Jack runnin’ round!”

He walks away, chuckling, but it’s enough to turn your face red. Of course, no one else in the camp knows about you being infertile, and you certainly hope none of them know about what Arthur did to you in the woods a few days ago.

Arthur drops his arms, rubbing his neck awkwardly. “Damn it, Sean,” he says.

“He knows how to ruin a moment, that’s for sure,” you smile.

Lenny strolls past you. You can tell he’s just come off of guard duty. He pats Arthur’s shoulder briefly.

“Hey Arthur, when you get a chance, I need to talk to ya about somethin’.” You can tell by the grin on his face it’s something he’s proud and excited about.

“Shoar,” Arthur says, his hands going to his gun belt. “What is it, kid?”

Lenny looks around, almost as though he’s nervous about anyone overhearing. He looks at you, then shrugs his shoulders. He beckons for you and Arthur to follow him, taking you to the edge of the lake. He turns to you, the glint in his eye sharper than it was before.

“I was talkin’ to some of the colored folk in Rhodes,” he says hurriedly. “They said there’s a gang of fools in the swamps east of here who seem to think the war never ended.”

“The Civil War?” you ask. You hardly know much about the Civil War yourself, being from Blackwater and coming around long after the war was won.

“Yeah,” he says. “Apparently it’s still ragin’ in these fools’ minds thirty years later. But word has it these fellers are also weapons dealers. Sounded like they might be sittin’ on a decent pile of cash.”

Arthur looked at him optimistically, his hand running over the scruff on his face. “With nothin’ but a bunch of crazies guarding it, huh?” he says. He nods his head. “Well, sounds like it might be worth takin’ a look.”

Lenny grins wide and hurries over to the horses. Arthur turns to you.

“Can I come?” you ask, hopeful.

“I don’t know, darlin’,” he says, patting your shoulder. “Probably gonna be dangerous. Might be gettin’ shot at.”

“All the more reason for me to come,” you say. You’re determined not to be left behind while Arthur tries to get himself killed again. “You already know I can handle a gun. I can hold myself during a gun fight, I’ve already been in a few.”

He sighs then nods. “A’right, fine. But you have to promise to do everythin’ I say, no arguin’, ya got it?”

You nod your head once, feeling proud. He leads you over to the horses, then hands you a carbine repeater, instructing you to put it into your saddle.

“I know all ya got is that shotgun,” he explains as you mount Rannoch. “That only works well in close range. Most likely, we’ll be shootin’ from a distance.”

You nudge your calves into Rannoch, urging him to follow Lenny’s horse. He calls back to you and Arthur. “Fellers in town said they’re holed up in a big ol’ mansion called Shady Belle.”

You follow the boys out of the trees and onto the main road. During the ride, you hear Lenny and Arthur talking about how differently people judge others in the South, particularly towards colored people. It’s something you’ve thought little about yourself. During your childhood, Blackwater had its fair share of colored people, mostly Mexicans and Native Americans, sometimes Asian workers from the railroad being built out west would come by. African Americans, however, were few and far between. You have noticed since arriving in Lemoyne that there are quite a bit more of them, not that it makes much difference to you.

After several moments of cantering down the road, the scenery begins to change slightly from the hot, dry orange dirts of Rhodes to thick, dark mud. The trees grow mossy, the air becomes thicker. Lenny leads you both down a heavily overgrown road. Far ahead in the distance, you see some sort of building.

“We should hide the horses here,” he says, heading a few yards off the trail and hopping off. You and Arthur follow his lead. “You got a scoped rifle, Arthur?” he asks.

Arthur pulls the sniper rifle he had used during the job you had done with him and John to steal the sheep in Valentine. You grab the carbine he had given you. On either side of the trail sits a crumbling stone wall. It had obviously been part of a grand estate a long time ago. Near it lies a slightly crooked sign saying “Shady Belle”.

You and Arthur hide behind the wall on one side of the path, Lenny behind the other. Arthur looks through the scope on his gun, pointing it ahead of him. You stand behind him and peak around him, placing your hands on his shoulders.

Ahead you can see a large mansion sitting on a large plot of land, a broken and empty fountain in front of it. Thirty or forty years ago, this house must have been a grand and extraordinary place, home to a wealthy family. Now ivy crawls the dirt-spattered walls and columns, most of the windows have broken panes. You make out near the brown river a slightly crumbled gazebo near a large tree. Between the fountain in front of the house and the wall acting as your cover, there’s several barracks made of sandbags. Had this place once been a battlefield during the war?

On one side of the house, near an old shack, sit several tents. Men walk around them, going around the piles of crates. You see a large carriage, two draft horses already hooked up to it. Several men stand around it, piling boxes into it. Arthur starts to point out areas of the most interest, including a gatling gun on the upper porch of the house and several boxes of dynamite near the front door. He and Lenny come up with a plan for him to shoot the dynamite.

Arthur begins counting down from five. You take your spot close to him, making sure the carbine in your hands is loaded. He reaches one and he fires his gun, which is followed by a massive explosion. You hear several men start to yell, the sound of them shooting back. Lenny dashes out from his spot and goes to the sandbags, yelling at them. You’re about to join him when Arthur pushes you back.

“Hold on, there’s a guy on the gatling!” he says.

You can hear the gatling gun fire out multiple rounds quickly. Arthur aims and fires, the gatling gun goes silent. He swings the scoped rifle onto his shoulder, pulling off his Springfield rifle. “C’mon,” he says.

You follow him quickly out into the open. You dart behind a barrack and then look up over it, pointing your gun. You fire it at several men, most of them going down. You and your companions fight the Raiders for several minutes, occasionally moving closer to the house as more of them fall.

The fighting ends as quickly as it began. You wipe your forehead with the back of your hand, looking around at all the dead men.

“Let’s look around,” Lenny says. “Gotta have their guns or cash stashed around somewhere.”

You and Arthur begin searching the camp. You peak into the last tent, finding nothing. You’re beginning to wonder if the weapons might be inside the house itself when Arthur calls you and Lenny over. He stands in the carriage that the Raiders had been loading. He opens a box and pulls out a handsome rifle. He inspects it and then hands it to you.

“Here,” he says. “Why don’t you keep that one?”

You take it from him and look over the bolt action rifle. You aim it quickly, making sure the sights on it is accurate, then swing it over your shoulder. Lenny and Arthur sit down in the front, you sit on the box behind Arthur. He flicks the reins, guiding the horses away from the crumbling mansion.

Arthur guides the horses out of the thick trees and onto the main trail. Suddenly three riders show up.

“Hey, what’re those fellers doin’ with our wagon?” one of them says. He points his gun at Arthur, ordering him to stop. Arthur pulls the horses to a halt, you shift your hands over your new rifle, preparing for another fight.

“We just had some business dealings with your partners there,” Arthur says cheekily.

“No colored man be stupid enough to go near our place!” another one shouts. “Kill ‘em!”

“What about the girl?” the last one asks.

“Kill the men, keep the girl,” the first one says. Arthur whips out his rifle and shoots two of the men quickly, Lenny takes down the third. They had been so quick you’ve only begun to stand up. The men fall off their horses, dead. Arthur flicks the reins again, carrying on. He reaches back and pats your shoulder as you sit down, making sure you’re alright.

“Guess we out of the woods now, so to speak,” Lenny says, throwing his rifle over his shoulder.

“You did good, kid,” Arthur says.

“I know Sean’s been bringin’ in a lot lately,” Lenny says. “I just wanted to have something to show.”

“Sean’s a loud mouth and a braggart,” Arthur says flatly. “Don’t worry about what he does.”

“I like him,” Lenny says.

“Well, I do too, against my better judgment. But just you worry about you, a’right? Me and Dutch, and everyone else who counts, we notice. We know what you do for this gang. Keep it up and you’re gonna start seeing things change for you.”

Arthur guides the wagon back to camp, pulling it to a stop near the hitching post. As Lenny stands up, Arthur stops him, offering his hand. “I always enjoy riding’ with you, kid,” he smiles.

Lenny thanks him and hops off the wagon. You get up and start pushing the box of rifles to the edge with some difficulty. Lenny sees you struggling and comes up.

“Don’t worry about that, Y/N,” he says, approaching the back. “Might as well leave ‘em there, be easier to sell. I’ll take care of ‘em.”

You shrug your shoulders and hop out of the wagon. “You did good,” Lenny says, patting your shoulder.

“You, too. Y’know how to fight real good, Lenny,” you say. He offers you a wide grin.

You spot Arthur standing near the draft horses, patting a large dun. He gestures for you to follow him. He leads you to Pearson’s fire, scooping out some stew and offering it to you. When you both have your dinner, you go and sit on the banks of the lake, watching the sun set into the firey water. When your stew is gone, you remain sitting there with Arthur, his hand wrapped around yours.

A few days have gone by since the raid on Shady Belle. You lie in Arthur’s cot, the blanket draped over you. Someone shakes you awake. You crack open your eyes; it’s still nearly dark. Arthur hovers over you.

“Darlin’, you awake?” he asks.

“I am now,” you groan. You turn over, wanting to go back to sleep. He pats your shoulder again.

“Will you come with me, sweetheart?” he says. You look at him, furrowing your brows. “Come see the sunrise, darlin’. They’re somethin’ else here.”

With some complaining, you swing your legs up and start putting on your boots. Arthur smiles widely the entire time.

“Glad to see you’re so awake already,” you grumble at him, standing up.

“We’ll get ya some coffee, how’s that?” he says, taking your hand. He walks you through the camp, stopping at Pearson’s fire to pour you a cup. He hands it to you and leads you on. He takes you to the eastern edge of camp, overlooking a cove. The sun hasn’t yet risen, but the horizon above the trees on the opposite shore is turning from blue to pink.

You yawn heavily, drinking your coffee quickly. You turn Arthur to face you so you can bury your face into his chest. “Wake me when it comes up,” you mumble into his shirt. You feel and hear him laugh as he wraps his arms around you. After a few moments, he pats your back gently.

“Look, darlin’.”

You open your eyes and see the sun rising, the sky turning various shades of orange, and red. A few wispy clouds spatter the sky, their forms burning to gold. It really is a beautiful sight.

“Okay, you’re forgiven for getting me up so early,” you say. His chest rumbles again as he chuckles.

After a while, he takes your hand and starts taking you back into camp. Bill, Lenny and Karen stand around an empty wagon.

“Morgan!” Bill yells to him.

Arthur looks at you. “I’ll catch up with ya in a minute, darlin’.”

You nod and let go of his hand, going into camp alone. You head over to your shared tent, strapping on your gunbelt and grabbing your hat. Arthur walks quickly over to you, holding a folded black coat in his arms.

“What’s going on?” you ask.

“Ah, Karen, Bill and Lenny wanna hit up the bank in Valentine. Say it’s unfinished business.”

“Can’t they take John or Charles?” you plead. You’ve been hoping to go on a hunting trip with Arthur.

“I wish, but they say they want me there. When I get back, you and I can go.”

He trades his green shotgun coat for the old, faded black duster, positioning it over his shoulders. You see Karen walk through camp in a fancy magenta dress. Arthur kisses you quickly before heading out.

“Be careful!” you call to him. He waves at you, hopping onto his horse and running through the trees after the others.

You spend the next couple of hours doing chores, but you’re so pent up you decide to head out on your own for a bit. You mount Rannoch and head out of camp, surprised that no one tries to stop you. You guess they’re all too busy waiting for Arthur and the others to take too much notice of you.

When you reach the main trail, you almost turn to go into Rhodes, but then you change your mind. This state is too muggy and warm for your taste. You crave the sight of mountains and thick pine forests again. You head north towards the Heartlands.

Within a relatively short time, you spot in the distance Emerald Ranch. You head towards it, needing to stop at the Fence to sell a few things. You hitch Rannoch and walk over to Seamus, the man who runs the discrete operations. You trade a necklace, two bracelets and a couple of rings with him, coming out $30 dollars richer. You thank him and are just about to head out when you hear two men on the other side of the road discussing a wagon.

“Supposed to be here later today!” one of the men says excitedly.

“Didn’t you order that only three weeks ago?” the other says.

“Sure, but the catalog promised speedy delivery! Paid premium for it, too.”

“What was it again? A pistol?”

“Yeah! Gold double-action revolver! Been wantin’ one since I was a boy.”

“How’d you know it’s gonna be here today? What if the wagon’s late?”

The man speaking about the revolver pulls a paper out of his back pocket. “Got a letter from the stage company. Said they have a delivery from Annesburg, then they’re comin’ to Emerald Ranch. This company don’t mess around neither. They get things done quick.”

You head off towards Rannoch, thinking quickly. You dash off down towards camp, hoping you can find someone fast enough to do this job with. You’ve never robbed a wagon or a stage before; you don’t know the first thing about it. When you get to camp, you see Artemis, Arthur’s giant warhorse.

You hitch Rannoch next to her and jog into camp, looking for him. He approaches you from Dutch’s tent, looking sweaty but untouched.

“There ya are!” he says.

“How’d it go?” you ask.

“Fine, just fine. Had to shoot our way out of Valentine again.”

You put your hands on your hips, getting ready to shout at him again. He puts his hands up. “Don’t worry, sweetheart! Bill, Lenny and Karen were with me the whole time! I was never alone.”

“Well, good. Now, if you’re not too tired, I have something for you.”

He grabs your hand, walking with you towards the horses while you explain the wagon you’d heard about. When you finish, he rubs his chin thoughtfully.

“Well, what do you think?” you ask. “Delivery wagons often have lots of goods. Could be profitable.”

“Sounds like it might be worth the effort,” he says. “‘Sides, I been meaning to teach ya how to rob wagons and stages for a while. Just didn’t want to do a bank stage to be your first. But delivery wagons are easier. Less guarded.”

Strauss suddenly walks over, looking agitated.

“Herr Morgan,” he says quickly.

“Herr Strauss?”

“I need a favor of you involving a debt.”

Arthur starts shaking his head. “I told ya, Strauss. I ain’t doin’ that no more!”

“Please, Herr Morgan, it’s involving that family Micah vent after.”

Arthur glared at him. “What? Micah end up stealin’ half your money?”

“No, no. Turns out he beat the lender to death, but never retrieved the money. So now, naturally, the debt is on his wife.”

Arthur shakes his head again. “No, I ain’t doin’ yer dirty work no more, Strauss. Ask any of the other fellers here. Or have Micah do it again.”

“And have him kill the whole family?” Strauss says, looking shocked. “No, Herr Morgan. Dead debtors don’t have a good habit of paying. Besides, none of the others have your… vigor.”

“Strauss, I ain’t doin’ this anymore! How many times I gotta say it?!”

“Just this last one, please? I’ll give you 10% more.”

Arthur sighs heavily, brushing his hand over his chin.

“Fine. But this is the last one, Strauss. From now on, if ya start lendin’ money out, someone else can beat it out of ‘em.”

Strauss sniffed loudly. “If that’s what you have decided, Herr Morgan, then so be it. Thank you again.”

Strauss turns to leave without even giving you a glance.

“I thought he was a snake when I first met him,” you say. “Now I know he’s a snake.”

“Yeah, ain’t exactly shoar why Dutch picked him up.”

He hops on Artemis as you mount Rannoch. The two of you gallop up into the Heartlands and past Emerald Ranch. You’re not too familiar with what’s east of Emerald Ranch, so Arthur takes the lead. He takes you northeast, stopping on a small slope looking over a T-intersection in the road. In the distance, you can hear the roaring of the Kamassa River.

“Wagon will probably stop through here,” Arthur says, putting a black bandana over his face. You realize you don’t have anything like that, and you’re just about to ask if he has a spare when he hands you a green one. You tie it quickly around your head, hiding most of your face. You tip your hat slightly to shade it better.

“You got that new rifle I gave ya?” he asked.

You pull out your bolt action, pointing the barrel towards the sky. He nods approvingly, grabbing his Springfield.

You both wait patiently for nearly a quarter of an hour. You’re starting to worry that maybe you missed it when you hear the sound of several horses coming your way from the direction of the river.

“Get ready, sweetheart,” Arthur instructs. “Just follow my lead, and don’t use names! If you need to address me, call me Mr. M.”

You agree and take a deep breath. Coming around the bend in the trail, you see a wagon driven by four large horses. On the stage is a driver and one other man beside him, holding a rifle.

When they get closer, Arthur kicks Artemis into action. You make Rannoch follow her, holding on tight to your rifle.

Arthur shouts, pointing his Springfield at the driver. “Stop the damn coach!”

You follow his lead and point your rifle at the man accompanying the driver. The driver pulls the stage to a stop and they both put their hands up.

“We got nothing important in here, mister!” the driver yells. “We’re just a delivery wagon!”

“Get off the damn wagon!” Arthur shouts. The two obey him and hop off, standing beside the trail. Arthur dismounts Artemis and approaches the wagon.

“Keep an eye on them, miss,” he says to you. You aim your gun at the two men, watching them carefully.

Just as Arthur is about to hop into the back of the wagon, you see the driver’s companion point his rifle at his back. You shoot your bolt action, the bullet striking the rifle and knocking it from his hand. The two men scream and bolt off into the trees.

Arthur turns and watches them run. He tips his hat up slightly and puts his hands on his hips. “That was pathetic,” he says, pulling off his bandana. You do the same.

“I think you mean easy,” you say, hopping off Rannoch.

You climb into the wagon after Arthur and start going through different boxes and chests. He pulls out a gold double-action revolver with a white handle. You see the barrel and trigger of the gun have been delicately engraved, a doe carved into the white handle.

“That’s a fine pistol,” he says. He hands it to you. “You should have more than just yer sawed-off.”

You take it and admire the gun, then smile. You’re sure this is the same gun those two fools in Emerald Ranch were talking about.

“We can get ya an offhand holster next time we’re in town,” Arthur goes on as he searches through more crates. You place the pistol into your satchel and search with him. By the time you’re finished searching, you both come up with several items of jewelry, some liquor and cans of food, horse supplies, and even a case of gold leaf dishes. You haul your ill-gotten gains onto the horses and dash away from the scene before anyone can find you.

“Should we head to Emerald Ranch and sell these?” you ask.

“No. Let’s give it a few days. Pretty soon people will hear the delivery wagon’s been robbed, folks will be lookin’ for anyone selling these things.”

You nod your head, figuring Arthur knows best about this sort of thing. He turns to you, holding his loot to you.

“Darlin’, I gotta take care of that thing for Strauss. Will you take this back to camp?”

“You want me to come with you?”

He looks at you, his face has grown dark. “No, sweetheart. I don’t want ya to see me like that. I’ll meet ya at camp.”

You nod sadly, taking his loot. “Arthur, promise me this’ll be the last one.”

“I promise.”

He kicks Artemis into a canter, heading west towards Valentine. You watch him for a moment, feeling like your heart is about to break for him. You can tell he hates the work; beating and scaring people for a few bucks.

You arrive back at camp and donate several pieces of jewelry, some liquor and cans of food to the camp. Dutch watches you and nods approvingly when you finish. You wish you could think of something to give Arthur to lift his spirits. You’re sure he’s going to be miserable when he returns. You would be, after all, were you in his shoes.

You sit on your shared cot and pull out your journal, running your fingers fondly over the stamped leather. You open up to a blank page and do your best to draw an image of Copper, his dog. You spend a long time on it, trying to get the shapes and shading just right. After a while, you tear the page out, wishing it was better and that you had Arthur’s skill. You fold it neatly and put it on his pillow for him to find later. You walk over to the campfire and sit down, joining Javier and Sean in a song.

After nearly an hour, Arthur returns, hitching Artemis next to Rannoch. You watch him walk over to his tent, but then he disappears from your view. If you had been there, you would’ve seen him open the drawing and stare at it for several moments, a gentle smile creep over his face. You would’ve also seen him take the drawing and pack it into a small box you had never seen before, one that held his most valuable possessions, including his mother’s ring.

He plops down on the log next to you, draping an arm over your shoulders and pulling you into a hug.

“Thank you for the drawin’, darlin’,” he says, kissing your temple.

You’re a little surprised at how bold he’s being. He’s rarely this affectionate with you in front of the others, especially when Sean’s around. You can feel yourself blushing.

“You’re welcome,” you say.

Uncle sits down on the chair by the fire and starts singing, Javier strums the tune in his guitar and Sean joins in. After a line or two, Arthur starts up as well. Once again, you don’t know the words, so you just listen.

They finish their song with a bout of laughter, Sean carries on the longest. When he stops, he turns to you. “Now why don’t ya ever join in, Ms. Y/L/N? I don’t think I’ve ever heard ya even hum a tune before!”

You blush, taken a bit by surprise. “I don’t know any of these songs.”

“What?” he says loudly. “That’s ridiculous. I come from across the pond in Ireland, and I’ve heard them songs! Me da…”

“Not with the da again!” Arthur groans, his arm sliding down so his hand settles on your hip.

“Fine! Fine, I’m just sayin’ how come ya never heard t’ese songs before?”

You shrug your shoulders. “Where I come from, my family wasn’t very musical.”

That’s a lie. Your mother used to sing all the time when she was working. You used to sing, too, when you were really happy. You haven’t sung since your grandmother died. Since joining the gang, you’ve found yourself humming more often, but never singing. Besides, the last person you want to sing in front of is Sean MacGuire.

“Oh, come on!” he says, holding his arms up and out. “I bet ya know a few songs!”

“Well, go on, then,” Uncle says, taking a swig from his beer bottle. You blush harder as Charles sits down, pulling out his harmonica.

“Seriously,” you say almost pleading. “You don’t want to hear me sing. My cousin heard me humming once and said she was surprised all the animals in a ten-mile radius weren’t dead.”

“Yeah, well, yer cousin was a real piece o’ work,” Arthur says. “Sounds like she needed a good kick in the rear, ya ask me. Now come on. I bet ya have a nice voice.”

You put your face in your hands, terrified. What you had said about your cousin mocking you was true. You had been humming one time while trying to teach her how to garden. She had demandingly asked you to stop, saying your voice was the most hideous thing she’d ever heard. Ever since then, you’d lost all confidence in your singing abilities.

“Tell us,” Sean says. “Name a song y’know and I bet Charles or Javier knows da tune! They’ll start you off just fine.”

You bite your lip again. The pressure from the others is growing, and you know they won’t let up until you sing, even if you don’t want to. You remember a song your grandmother taught you when you were young. It’s short, but you always liked it. You look over at Charles and Javier, doubting either of them will know it.

“Either of you know the Sweetheart Tree?” you ask tentatively.

Charles shakes his head, but Javier smiles. “Ah, I think I heard that one being played by a street beggar playing for money! Does it go like this?” he plays a few lines on his guitar.

You nod your head. “That’s the one!”

“Well, go on then! Prove your sour ol’ cousin wrong!” Sean yells.

You take a deep breath and stare at the grass, flickering yellow and white with the reflections of the fire. You hesitatingly begin.

They say there’s a tree in the forest

A tree that will give you a sign

Come along with me

To the Sweetheart Tree

Come and carve your name next to mine

Your voice begins to grow in strength as you go on, caught up in the tune of Javier’s guitar and the memories of your grandmother, when you were young, happy and innocent. You’re surprised you remember it so easily as you move to the last bit.

They say if you kiss the right sweetheart

The one you’ve been waiting for

Big blossoms of white will burst into sight

And your love will be true evermore

You finish, the last note carrying on a bit. Javier does a fancy strum on his guitar before letting it go silent. The men around the fire sit silent for a few seconds before Sean’s face splits into a wide grin.

“Where’s your cousin live, Y/N?” he says.

“Why?” you ask.

“‘Cause I’d like to give her a good kick in the pants meself!”

“If ya think yer voice is bad,” Arthur chuckles. “Ya got impossibly high standards, sweetheart.”

You blush as Uncle jumps in. “I once heard this lovely maiden sing in a show. Sung some silly song about how great Saint Denis was. Think her name was Robin… something. Think she was Polish. Anyways, her voice was good and real nice, but everyone could tell she had training. I don’t think I ever heard someone untrained sing that well.”

“Oh my God,” you say, putting your face into your hands again. You definitely regret singing in front of them now. The praise is almost worse than the pressure. You hear Charles laugh briefly before he starts playing a tune on his harmonica. You’re glad he’s playing, the others are starting to hum along with him. After a few moments, Arthur gently squeezes your hip.

“C’mon, darlin’,” he whispers. “Come with me.”

He takes your hand and leads you off towards the water of the lake. You think he’s going to start talking to you when you reach the shore. Instead, he pulls you into a tight hug, burying your face into his chest. You feel his cheek rest on your head. You don’t mind this, not at all. He smells familiar; comforting. You fold your arms around his waist.

“This is nice,” you mumble. “But what’s it for?”

“Just because I can and I want to, a’right?” he says quietly. After a moment, he adds in. “I’d love to hear ya sing more.”

“You’re sweet, Arthur, but you’re a bad liar.”

He takes your shoulders and pulls you away for a moment. “Ain’t lyin’ to ya, love. I ain’t never lied to ya. I don’t think you realize how beautiful you are and how much I appreciate ya.”

You blush and look down, biting your lip. You want to believe him so bad, this man who has had a profound effect on your life and you love so deeply, but you can’t shake the nagging voice in the back of your head. The one that keeps telling you that you’re impossible to love.

“Give it time, Arthur,” you mutter. “Eventually, you’re gonna get tired of me. I’m used to it, though, so don’t worry about hurting me.”

His finger comes up under your chin, pushing your face up gently so he can stare into your eyes.

“I ain’t never gonna get tired of ya,” he says sadly. “I wish ya could see how wonderful ya are. Everyday I’m with ya, I love ya more and more.”

He leans down and kisses you gently, his hand settling on your back, his other one behind your neck. He pulls away and whispers in your ear. “I’m gonna tell ya everyday how beautiful you are until you finally believe it, then I’m gonna keep on tellin’ ya. I love you, Y/N.”

You feel your eyes sting with tears. You press your forehead into his, looping your arms around his neck. He kisses your forehead and then pulls your head into the crook of his neck, his arms nearly crushing you with how tight he holds you as you listen to the steady beating of his heart.

You stare off into the water, watching the reflections of the moon break apart and shatter on its surface. You can still hear the others from the fire talking, the sound of Javier’s guitar mingling among their voices. Somewhere in the trees, a lone owl hoots. You could stay like this forever.

The next morning, Arthur wakes you up earlier than usual. He greets you with a cup of coffee.

“Mornin’, sweetheart,” he says as you take it, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“Mornin’, Arthur. What you getting me up so early for?”

He smiles and sits down next to you. “Just thought we should go out on a huntin’ trip. Just you and me. Felt like we ain’t done that since we left Horseshoe Overlook.”

You sip your drink, the heat waking you up. “Sounds good. Where you thinkin’ of going?”

He sits a moment and thinks. “Well, why don’t you decide? We could go somewhere ya ain’t been before.”

You pause, remembering your dream from last night. You can remember seeing a large valley with purple flowers, rimmed by thick pine forests and misty mountains cloaked in snow. Ever since Arthur had taken you to Big Valley, you’ve been dreaming of it more often. You suggest going there again.

“I know we went a few weeks ago, but…” you pause. “It was so beautiful. I wouldn’t mind going there again. To be honest, I’ve missed the forests of West Elizabeth.”

He takes your hand and smiles. “That’s a’right. We can go there. Well, get ready and let’s go.”

You quickly finish your coffee and get up to start packing up some supplies. Just as you and Arthur are picking up cans of food from Pearson’s wagon, Hosea walks towards him, smoking his pipe. He greets you fondly before turning to Arthur.

“I have a job for you, Arthur,” he says.

“What is it, Hosea?” he asks.

“We’re going to sell that moonshine you got from the Greys back to where it came from.”

“And where’s that exactly?”

“The Braithwaites.”

Arthur laughs. “You always had a knack for huckling people, old man! I’d love to do this with ya, but I already promised the next couple of days to Y/N here.”

Hosea nods with a wide smile. “I understand. Well, unfortunately I think you’re the only man suited to help me with this. Dutch has got John on some other job. I’ll wait for ya to come back.”

He pats Arthur on the shoulder and walks away, coughing slightly. Arthur chuckles.

“That man with his schemes.”

“If anyone can pull off something like that,” you say,” It’s Hosea.”

You both finish packing up your provisions and mount your horses before riding into Rhodes. Arthur leads you to the train station and buys two tickets to a place called Wallace Station, which he says isn’t too far from Big Valley.

You only have to wait a short while for the train to arrive at the station. Arthur boards it behind you and you take a seat next to a window.

“I’ve never ridden a train,” you admit.

“Seriously?” Arthur asks, almost disbelieving. You nod. “Well, they’re certainly a lot quicker and more comfortable than ridin’ on a horse.”

He drapes an arm over your shoulder as the train begins to move. You’re amazed by how quickly the land slides past you. You watch for a while as the outside world changes from the orange and bright greens of Lemoyne to the soft greens and blues of New Hanover. The swaying of the train is beginning to make you feel tired. You turn and rest your head on Arthur’s shoulder, falling asleep against him.

After a while, he wakes you up, whispering that you’ve arrived. You open your eyes and look outside, spotting thick pines and willow bushes. You almost leap up, desperate to get into familiar territory again. Arthur laughs as he follows you outside.

You step out onto the gravel of the train tracks, then spot Rannoch coming towards you. He neighs happily and you dash up to him, petting his nose fondly.

Arthur mounts Artemis. “Well, let’s go. Big Valley is just over that rise there.”

You do as he tells you, patting Rannoch on the neck, and follow him. You trot through the trees, breathing in the intoxicating scent of pines, sage and earth. How you’ve missed it!

You break out of the trees and step into the sunlight, drinking in the view of Big Valley with the little stream winding its way through the grass. You look at Arthur, who’s smiling at you.

“What?” you say.

“Nothing,” he says. “You just look happy.”

“I am. This is wonderful, Arthur.”

The next few hours, you both wander the valley and the surrounding forest hunting game and finding herbs. You even find a chest, buried beneath the surface of the soil, with an old arrowhead inside. You pocket it.

As evening begins to fall, a dark storm begins to roll over the valley, threatening lightning and buckets of rain. You look up at the black sky just as Arthur approaches you, throwing a coyote pelt over Artemis.

“You wanna head into Strawberry? Get a hotel room?” he asks.

You look at him. “You sure? It’s not like this is the first storm we’ve slept in a storm.”

“I know,” he shrugs his shoulders. “Well, you decide.”

You look up again. The sky really doesn’t look friendly and the wind’s picking up, the temperature dropping horribly fast.

“Yeah, alright. Let’s go to Strawberry.”

You canter alongside Arthur, heading into the rustic town settled around the river. Arthur leads you over to the saloon and buys you dinner, ignoring your protests with a smirk. When you’re done, he leads you over to the hotel and buys a room and a bath. You look at him curiously.

“Just gonna take one before bed,” he explains.

You walk up the stairs with Arthur, your eyes raking over the beautiful architecture. Arthur takes your hand and kisses it before heading off to the washroom.

You head into your shared room. There’s a single bed, but it’s fairly large. A nice change from sharing the single cot. A few lanterns light the cozy room. You look out the window and see the rain has started to come down in icy sheets. You sit down on the bed, staring out the window.

While Arthur’s in the bath, you find yourself imagining being in there with him, which takes you back to that day in the trees when he had touched you. You find your face growing warm at the memory, along with other body parts. You suddenly feel like you want to take things further, even though you’ve really no idea how to do it. The only time you’ve ever done it was with your husband, and he’d forced himself onto and into you every time. You remind yourself that Arthur would certainly be different.

Arthur walks into the room, his hair damp, bringing the smell of soap and water with him.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he says.

You say nothing, biting your lip instead. You decide to just show him what you want to do instead since your voice doesn’t seem to want to work. You walk up and kiss him deeply, your hand going over the back of his neck. He hums before pulling away.

“What was that for?” he asks quietly.

“I want…” you start to say, trying to figure out how to tell him. “I want you, Arthur.” Your other hand slides down his chest, trailing down his stomach and then finding the bulge of his pants. He takes in a sudden breath when you squeeze him gently.

“Ya shoar?” he asks gently. You nod and kiss him again.

“Let me know if there’s anything you don’t like, honey. I want ya to enjoy this.”

“I’m with you,” you mutter against his lips. “I think I’m going to enjoy this just fine.”

He suddenly starts walking you backwards towards the bed. You feel his hands start unbuttoning your shirt, gently pulling it off you before moving down to your pants. You help him, stripping off your boots until you stand in front of him wearing nothing but your undergarments.

Your hands move to him again, pulling off his coat, vest and ripping the buttons of his shirt to expose the red union suit beneath it. Within moments, that’s all he’s wearing. He approaches you and kisses you deeply. He reaches to you and lifts up your chemise, taking it off your body. He breaks the kiss to look down at your naked chest. You blush as he stares.

“Beautiful,” he mutters as he kisses you again. He starts kissing down your jaw, to your neck, your collarbone, making his way down until his lips find your nipple, making you suck in a deep breath. He guides you down onto the bed as he kisses and licks your sensitive tip. His hand finds your free breast, massaging it with his fingers. You groan when he gently pinches your nipple with his teeth, your hands tangling into his hair.

After a moment, his free hand moves down your stomach, leaving goose bumps in his wake. He pulls down your bloomers, making you blush again. You lie completely naked under him. He stops kissing you and looks at your body.

“Like I said, beautiful,” he smiles.

“I can’t wait to see how handsome you are,” you moan; you're breathing heavy already.

“I don’t know if I would use that word to describe me, but I’ll humor ya.”

He’s just about to start unbuttoning his union suit when you sit up and grab his hands. “Let me show you how handsome I think you are,” you whisper. He lowers his hands and stands up straight. You start opening his union suit, kissing every new inch of exposed skin. By the time you get to his lower half, his head’s tipped back as he groans. You undo the last few buttons, allowing his length to spring out. You can’t help but stare at it. It’s longer and thicker than your husband’s was, with a large single vein running down it. You take it in your hand and squeeze, causing him to growl. You feel it grow harder, so you start pumping it until it’s throbbing.

Arthur suddenly grabs you by the shoulders and pushes you down on the bed. A wild look has come in his eyes, one you’ve never seen before. You feel a bit worried for a moment, but then you start to relax when he starts kissing your neck again. His hands run down your body, over your hips and then down to your thighs. His hand reaches into your slit, finding you wet.

“That’s about right,” he moans into your ear.

His hands move to your thighs, gently pulling them apart. He hovers over you, planting one of his hands beside your shoulders. With the other, he guides his cock to brush against your entrance, teasing you.

“Arthur,” you moan. “Please.”

“Just wanted to make shoar yer ready, darlin’,” he whispers in your ear before kissing just below your ear. He suddenly sinks his length into you all the way to the hilt, filling you and making you gasp. You put your hands on his back, trying to hold onto him. He stays still for a moment, sitting inside of you before he finally pulls back and then slams into you. You start raking your nails across his back, which he doesn’t seem to mind. He winds his hand into your hair, his lips finding yours again as he thrusts himself into you.

He leans up slightly, grabbing one of your knees and pulling it up, throwing your leg over his shoulder as he pumps into you.

“Mm, Arthur,” you moan.

“I love those sounds you make,” he growls. His hands squeeze your hips, causing you to buck up into him. You plant your hands onto his chest, running your hands through the hair there.

His right hand suddenly leaves your hip, sliding down to your folds where he finds your core. He starts rubbing your clit, sending jolts all the way down to your toes, causing them to curl. He chuckles as you groan loudly, your hands sliding down to his hips and squeezing. He starts moving his fingers faster, bucking into you more wildly. Something starts growing in your chest, moving down into your ribs and then stopping in your stomach.

“Arthur,” you growl. “Please, more!”

He chuckles again, his deep laugh pushing you further. “As you wish, darlin’.”

He presses his hand harder into you, pumping his length deeper into you. That warm feeling in your stomach travels down between your legs, exploding and setting your nerves on fire. You gasp and yell out, your hair plastered against your neck as your feet curl against his back.

“That’s my girl!” Arthur growls. He rides out your waves, pumping himself harder into you. He leans back down and kisses your neck again, his bucking becoming more wild and less rhythmic. He groans loudly as you feel him throb inside you hard several times, his seed spilling into you.

You both lie there as his length begins to grow soft inside of you, his body relaxing on you, gasping for breath. After a moment, he gently pulls himself out of you and rolls over onto his back. You close your legs, feeling colder without his body on top of you. You roll over and curl into his side; his arm draping over you as you lay your head onto his chest.

“Mm, Arthur,” you say quietly as your hand tangles into his hair. “That was great.”

He kisses your forehead. “Glad I could be of service, ma’am.”

You lie against him, feeling suddenly exhausted but satisfied. He pulls the blanket over you both as the rain hammers on the roof. His hand settles across your back again, drawing light circles into your skin, sending you into a deep sleep.

#red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #rdr2 fanfic #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x oc #arthur morgan x reader smut #nsft #Van Der Linde Gang #r* games #rockstar games #i'm awkward #second chances #please forgive my horrible nsft scene!

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pynkhues · 5 years

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1 17 and/or 22 + Beth and Rio pls.

#1 “How could you do this to me?” / #17 “I don’t need you.” / #22 “I don’t care if you live or die.”

The problem is, the second she sees the box, it’s impossible for her to unsee it.

“What’s that?” she asks a little breathlessly as Rio makes quick work of undoing the buttons on her blouse, his mouth on her neck as he crowds her back towards the open space in the heart of his loft. When his only reply is to nose the collar of her shirt aside and start to suck a hickey into the spot where her neck meets her shoulder, she keens, her toes curling against the hardwood floors, and tightens her hand on the back of his head only to push him off her.

She’s still catching her breath, her eyes back on that stupid box, when he blinks down at her, visibly confused until his own eyes lower to her open blouse, her chest flushing under the heat of his look. He grins, walking her back until she hits the arm of the couch, reaching to rid her of her shirt the rest of the way, his head dropping to mouth at her breast through her bra.

“Rio,” she groans, shivering before she can help herself – at the cool, midday air now at her bare back, or the warmth of his lips on her skin, she has no idea, doesn’t care, not really, not when his hands are coming down beneath her already bare legs (he’d gotten her jeans off almost the second she’d walked through the door. It was only fair though – she’d somehow gotten both his t-shirt and pants off even quicker), lifting her up onto the arm of the couch. She sucks in a breath, her eyes fluttering shut as he’s pushing her legs apart, kissing his way down her body, and then she’s gasping, clawing at his shoulders as he settles on the floor in front of her, only to open her eyes again and see that stupid box.

“Is that a cake mix?” she asks, her breathless words turning into a moan when Rio hums a sound of affirmation into the sensitive skin of her inner thigh.

“Marcus has a thing at school tomorrow,” he purrs there, his fingers finding the elastic leg of her panties, slipping underneath. “Normally his ma makes somethin’, but she’s outta town.”

He makes slow work of pulling down her panties, inching them off her hips, then slower, too slow, down her thighs, and his breath is hot on her, and Beth can feel herself clench in anticipation of his mouth, and she just - -

“You know they’re terrible, right? They’re full of preservatives and corn syrup. I could - -”

Before she even has the chance to continue, Rio’s hands stop, his chin jutting up. His eyes are still hooded, pupils dilated, but his mouth is set into a long, irritated line.

“No,” he tells her, and Beth blinks down at him, where he’s kneeling on the floor between her legs, and she sits up a little straighter on the arm of the chair, moving to press her legs together, but his hands come up to her knees, holding them apart.

“No what?” she replies, widening her (already wide) eyes, playing dumb as she goes through recipes in her head – carrot cake with cream cheese frosting, apple toffee crunch cake, lemon blueberry layer cake. There’s a Whole Foods barely three blocks away. It wouldn’t take much to pop down and get the ingredients, get back here, have the whole thing done before Rio even has to pick Marcus up from school, and - -

She feels her panties drag the rest of the way off her legs, sees them tossed aside as Rio curves his hands back around to the insides of her thighs, sliding up either one. The heat pools low in her again, curling tight between her legs, and she looks at him, and just - - that’s always a mistake, she thinks, especially when he holds his mouth like that.

“Does anyone in his class have any allergies?” she asks a little breathlessly, her hand coming up to curl behind his ear, but Rio clenches his eyes shut briefly in annoyance, shaking his head up at her.

“Nah, we ain’t doin’ that. I don’t need you to do that shit for me.”

And that’s enough to cool her down (a little, at least). She scoffs, because that is frankly ridiculous.

“You bought a boxed cake mix,” she says it so incredulously, gesturing wildly back to the kitchen island, that she must seem personally offended and just - - good, she thinks. She is. “I just - - god, Rio, how could you do this to me? It’s like - -”

She waves her arms around, because he knows this about her by now, surely, and it’s like - - She suddenly stiffens, her jaw setting as she squint down at him.

“Like you meant for me to see it.”

A look of surprise briefly crosses his face before he settles for something much more annoyed, his own jaw rocking as he exhales a long, rough breath.

“You think I’d rather be arguin’ with you about a cake you ain’t gonna be makin’, than fuckin’ you,” he says dryly, and Beth frowns down at him, swinging a leg over his head and clambering off the couch. She grabs her panties off the floor, slipping them back on, then his t-shirt, putting that on too, before beelining for the box on the kitchen island. A vanilla sponge, she rolls her eyes, turning the box over to read the ingredients.

Just like she thought.

Corn syrup.

“Well, you do like to insist we both have our own departments,” she replies, her voice low as she moves to turn on the oven to pre-heat. “And god knows yours is nowhere near a kitchen.”

She’s barely put the dial on the right setting before Rio’s turning it off again and plucking the box from her hands, walking it over to the pantry to put it on a shelf she can’t reach.

“You know I wasn’t going to make that one, right?” she says, laughing as she ducks beneath his arm for the pantry. She pulls out the flour, sugar, grins when she finds a tiny, unopened tub of baking powder.

“Elizabeth,” he practically growls behind her, and Beth ignores him, moving to put the items down on the kitchen island. She drops the baking powder and sugar first, and almost before they’ve touched the surface, he’s taking them and putting them on the top shelf of the pantry with the boxed mix. She glares at him, and when his hand reaches for the flour still in her arms, she spins away from him, clutching the packet to her chest.

Rio’s quick though, following her around like he was expecting her to do it, and Beth tries to get away from his grabbing hands, but he won’t let her.

“I ain’t playin’,” he tells her, reaching again for the flour, and Beth stares at him, gobsmacked.

“Neither am I!” she insists, her voice shrill, because she doesn’t bake to play, and certainly not when it’s one of her - - their - - his kids, and he reaches again, this time grabbing the top of the flour packet, and she yanks back at the same time he does and then - -

And then the packet’s exploding between them, erupting in a mushroom cloud of flour, dusting them with white. It’s so sudden Beth gasps, feeling it on her skin, caught in her hair, settling across her cheeks like make-up powder, and she blinks hard, looking up at Rio to see it caught up in his eyelashes, settled like snow on his broad shoulders, a little caught on his lower lip, and Beth just - -

She giggles. Quick as anything, short, sharp, but then louder, harder, as Rio’s look straddles something between fury and still-forming horror at the sudden explosion of mess in his otherwise spotless loft. He sucks in a breath, rubbing at his face, at his shoulders, trying to get it off, and just - - just suddenly he looks so sweet and so good, still half-hard in his underwear, a look on his face that could almost be a pout, and it runs warm through her veins, bursts like the flour box in her belly and just - - god, she’s in trouble, she knows that, but there’ll be time to worry about that later. Right now, Beth drops the newly empty packet to the kitchen island, darting forwards, toes slipping in the flour on the floor, as she surges up to kiss him.

“It’s your mess,” she says into his mouth, feeling his hands come down to the hem of her (well, his) t-shirt, yanking it off her. “You’ve got to clean it up.”

“Nuh,” he replies, but he’s still twitchy at the mess, his thumb brushing a line through the flour dusting her cheekbone, and she thinks maybe they’ll just have to agree to disagree on that one.

#beth x rio #nbc good girls #my fic #domesticity #beth boland #rio #welcome to my ama #rio's loft

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therainroguefanfiction · 4 years

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💙 Heart Beats (Choutarou Ootori) #10: I’m So Badass✶

📑 Table of Contents | ◂Previous

-ˋˏ ༻❅༺ ˎˊ-

Gakuto was placed in the man’s bedroom to rest until he woke up while you, Shishido and Choutarou were sitting at the table in the other room, waiting for the large man to return with the tea he had gone to prepare.

“Is it really okay to trust this guy?” Choutarou whispered, looking between his two senpais that sat beside and in front of him at the large round table.

“He hasn’t given us any reason not to,” Shishido responded with a shrug, leaning back in his chair with his hands folded behind his head.

“‘ere we are,” the man reentered the room, setting down the tray that held the small green cups of tea. He placed one in front of each of the students before taking a seat across from you and between the two boys. “Sorry if I scared ya. Didn’t ‘spect no kids to be lurkin’ ’round the forest this late at night,”

You shrugged in response, a grin on your lips. “They are just little kids. It’s only natural that they’d be afraid,”

Shishido glared at the insult, having the strong urge to step on your foot under the table, but he couldn’t deny the fact that he had been scared, even if it was just a small, barely noticeable amount.

“I’m impressed, senpai.” Choutarou smiled at you. “You weren’t afraid at all?”

You shook your head and shrugged again. “Nah. Things like that don’t scare me,”

“Why’s that?”

Your grin morphed into a smirk as you leaned back in the chair, the front legs hovering above the ground. “It’s because I’m just so badass,”

Shishido scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest and looking away from you. “What a load of crap,”

“Coming from the scared little boy,”

“I was not scared!” he growled, slamming his hands down on the table as he stood, his chair scraping across the wooden floor.

“No shame, Shishido.” you grinned, standing up and patting his hat covered head. “Kids get scared easily,”

“S-Shishido-san… Y-Y/N-senpai…” Choutarou stood as well, glancing between his two senpais as you shared a glare; yours was mocking and playful while Shishido’s was heated and annoyed.

The glaring contest was broken, however, when the man – who you still did not know the name of – burst out laughing, holding his large belly and throwing his head back. You and Shishido blinked in surprise, staring at the man as if he had just grown another head.

“I think it’s ‘retty damn cool, how close ya two ‘re. Ya seem to ‘ave a ‘retty strong bond!” He smiled warmly as he looked at the pair of you.

You exchanged a glance with one another before shrugging and sitting back down, earning a relieved sigh from Choutarou who followed suit.

“Ya almost like bro’er and sis’er. Arguin’ one min’te and then best frie’ds the ne’xt,”

“I don’t recall ever being her friend, period. Definitely not a best friend,” Shishido muttered, folding his arms and looking to the side with a scowl on his face.

“What’s your name, anyway?” you questioned, leaning the chair back again, your hand on the table to keep you steady. “And what were you doin’ out in the woods so late?”

“The name’s Harley. I was choppin’ some wood for meh fireplace,” he responded with a grin, motioning towards the fireplace that sat behind you.

You glanced over your shoulder, eyes landing on the crackling flames. “Makes sense,”

A small window of silence appeared over the group.

“Alright, then.” You suddenly stood up, sticking your hands into your pockets. “We should be getting back. Shishido, you can carry the moron, right?”

He scowled at you, standing up and walking into the bedroom where the redhead was still unconscious, a nice sized bump on his forehead.

-ˋˏ ༻❅༺ ˎˊ-

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snarkwriteswrasslin · 4 years

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what ifs; adam page [six]

Notes:

Okay, so the angst is not over but.. I bring you guys a small break from it. And again, I swear. I fully intend to update this as soon as possible. I’m having too much fun writing this and I have way too many plans. [ part five ] if you missed it.

Summary:

Fluffy little moment in the kitchen here.. if you squint. But the angst is not over yet. Just giving you guys a small break. Adam and Ivy bake together and have a few laughs.. Maybe they can rebuild a friendship.

Pairings:

Adam Hangman Page x OFC, Ivy Barlow

Warnings:

alcohol tw, angst, slow burn, mentions of exotic dancing... did I mention angst? because yeah.

Images from google. Header made by me. If you didn’t make it, don’t take it.

“What’s this I hear about you running off to West Virginia permanently? Do you not know how to pick up a phone anymore, Ivy?” Irene paced her living room and waited on her daughter to give her some kind of reason for just uprooting herself and not even bothering to say anything about it.

They’d lost touch, yes, but Irene had always just assumed that Ivy was on her side of things. She hadn’t ever said anything contrary to that.

Ivy rolled her eyes and for a split second, she heavily considered hanging up the phone.Her mother hadn’t even bothered with the formality of a hello. She didn’t even bother to ask how her former husband was. Ivy grumbled because if it weren’t already painfully clear just how self - absorbed the woman was and how little she cared about anything beyond having total control over everything, this would really have driven that point home. Instead, she took a few deep breaths and as she parked the car outside the hospital, she rubbed the bridge of her nose.

It wasn’t even 11 am and she was already completely and totally done with today.

“You do realize that Hello is also a polite way to start a conversation, right? You could also try asking how everyone is… you know, make sure we’re all okay here?” Ivy’s tone was clipped and harsh and almost immediately after she realized it, she muttered a hasty apology. Sure her mom was selfish and controlling and had no sense of anything beyond how a situation affected her. But she is still my mother and I know better, Ivy reprimanded herself mentally, taking a few long and deep breaths to try and neutralize herself before things got out of hand.

“Don’t you take that tone with me. Your father will be fine.” Irene grumbled impatiently. When Ivy sighed and muttered something about their conversations being ‘business as usual’, Irene snorted and reminded her casually, “I’m not the one who stopped calling or coming by, Ivy Jane.”

“Maybe there’s a valid reason for that, Mom.” Ivy shut the door to her car with her hip and locked it, staring intently at the hospital as she thought to herself God I hope I get good news in here, at least. I don’t think I can handle any more bad news, and she took a few steps towards the double doors leading into the lobby. Her mother hadn’t said anything yet and Ivy was getting increasingly impatient. It was kind of obvious by now that she’d called just to pick a fight.

If that is the case, Ivy thought to herself, I really wish she’d just get it over with so I can hang up on her and get inside to Dad.

“ You haven’t answered my question.” Irene stated, waiting on her daughter to answer. She just didn’t understand why Ivy had to do this, why Ivy would even want to go back there. “What if I needed you, huh?”

She thought that might at least make Ivy feel a little guilty for her hasty decision, but to her shock, Ivy gave a snort of laughter and for a few seconds, the conversation got so quiet that Irene almost thought Ivy might have hung up on her again like the last time they’d talked.

Finally, Ivy answered.

“You’ll be fine, Mom. You don’t need me, you’ve never needed anyone. As far as why I left and if it’s true? I left because Ty is a selfish asshole who doesn’t understand my family comes first. And yeah, Mom.. I’m moving here permanently.” Ivy bit her lip and grimaced. It was better this way, best to just rip that bandage off all at once. And then totally cut contact. Because she’d already let her mom have entirely too much input in her life to begin with. This was the first time she’d actively stood up to her mother and damn, it felt good.

She pushed open the doors to the lobby and stepped inside the hospital while she waited on her mother to have some kind of reaction, to start her patent method of guilt tripping her. And true to form, that’s exactly what her mother did.

“First Constance and now you. I see how it is. I get it. You love your father more.” Irene bit her lip, sighing and shaking her head sadly. Neither one of the two of them were grateful at all that she took them out, that they got to see the world. That she worked her ass off to make sure they didn’t just fall into the whole small town trap like she nearly had. Not that Dalton was ever a bad man I just… needed more, wanted more… Wanted to see the world. I never would’ve stuck around or gotten married as young as I did if I hadn’t gotten pregnant with any of the three of them, the thought came and Irene frowned at it, shaking her head.

As a mother, it made her feel horrible every time that thought surfaced, but she couldn’t help it.. She’d had her entire life planned out and then along came a cowboy who fancied himself a rancher with his big brown bedroom eyes and his smooth talk and his truck and his simple ways… She’d thought she could be happy, that in time she’d learn to love it…She’d gotten trapped before she ever realized it and now.. Now… Everything ended with a fight where two of her girls were concerned. Her second oldest seemed to be the only one of her girls who was happy, who had a good relationship with her now. It hurt like hell. Irene didn’t know how to go about fixing it. Sometimes she wondered why she bothered trying because it seemed as if everything she said or did where Constance and Ivy were concerned was all wrong.

Why keep forcing herself on the two of them if they didn’t want her as part of their lives? Despite that, Irene kept trying.

Because they were her daughters and despite what they seemed to think, she did love them.

“No, I didn’t say that. I’ve never said that. You’re not going to make me feel guilty about this. If that’s all you called to do, I need to go. I’m meeting with Dad’s nurse.” Ivy caught herself tapping her foot, rolling her eyes at the phone and almost tempted to just go ahead and skip several minutes ahead in this whole thing they’d done lately, get to the part where she got fed up and rather than say something angry and hurtful, she just took the more passive route and hung up.

“I’m not trying to make you feel guilty, I’m just trying to understand, Ivy. I thought you loved Ty. I thought you were happy in Florida.”

“No, Mom. You’ve got it in your head that my life is all wrong unless I’m living it your way. I never wanted your way. I hated Florida.” Ivy wasn’t even sure what made her say it or why she was so irrationally angry at her mother’s calm tone, but she was and before she could stop herself, the words were out and she felt horrible for saying them. “I’m sorry, Mom, I just…I can’t do this with you right now, okay? There are way bigger things going on right now. I don’t have time to fight with you.”

Ivy hung up and settled into a chair in the waiting room, rubbing her forehead, shaking her head and taking a few deep breaths. She’d call back later and at least apologize. She honestly hadn’t ever intended to say it out loud.

Irene wiped at her eyes, taking a few deep breaths as she sat the phone down on the kitchen counter. “Well then. Guess I just got my answer. Tried to do something to make sure they didn’t end up like I almost did and now apparently, two of my three hate me for it.”

It hurt like hell, because all she wanted was to be part of all her daughters’ lives. All of them, not just one. She had two grandchildren she was totally missing out on being a grandmother to. And Ivy, if Ivy ever settled down and had kids… Irene’s stomach churned and she poured herself a glass of tea, taking a long sip. All she wanted was everyone to be happy. And now she was discovering that apparently, she’d been all wrong to do the things she had back then.

For the first time in a long time, she found herself wondering if maybe she hadn’t been wrong to just uproot all three of them and make them feel like they didn’t have a choice. Even suspecting it might have been the wrong decision and that every one she’d made since then hadn’t really helped any didn’t sit well with her at all.

As soon as visiting hours began, Ivy stood and made her way to her father’s room, shutting the door lightly behind her and taking a seat next to his bed, laughing when she realized that apparently, teaching him how to work a laptop had been a good idea, because he was watching Netflix, some original series called The Ranch.

“Darlin.. Everything okay?” Dalton paused the show and pushed away the rolling table with her old laptop sitting on top and fixed his gaze on her intently.

“Yeah. Everything is fine.” Ivy leaned in to hug her father, squeezing just a little.

Dalton eyed his youngest daughter suspiciously and Ivy admitted, “Just arguin with Mama. Got reminded why I never bothered.” as she sighed and shook her head, quick to slap a smile on. “I heard you’re gettin out of here tomorrow.”

“Thank God. If I gotta eat one more salad, I think I’m gonna lose my damn mind.”

“I hate to tell you, daddy.. But seein as me and Connie and the kids want you around a real long time, old man, you’d better just learn to love vegetables and fruit.”

“A man is not made t’ eat that shit. We need meat.. Potatoes.” Dalton protested, grumbling when his daughter fluffed his hair and shook her head. “Christ. Startin to wish I would have just hid instead of gettin dragged here.”

“Daddy..”

“I’ve made it this damn long living life my way. No sense in changing now, darlin.” Dalton insisted.

Ivy bit her lip and laughed, shaking her head at him. “You’re going to have to at least try to make some of the changes they gave you… For us? Please?”

“Okay, alright, fine. Shit. How’s the farm? Page ain’t let that dumb fuck hand of his touch any of my tools, right?”

“No, thankfully, Adam’s been the one handling them the most.” Ivy bit her lip as she tried to will away all the images of Adam in varying states of undress making repairs out in the barn that she’d walked in on and had been burned into her brain.

“Oh? Page’s boy come home, huh? Did you hear he went off and got all famous on us? Still the same guy though. He was always one hell of a kid.”

“Yeah, he’s a good man.” Ivy didn’t bother hesitating as she said it.

“You two talk about anythin’?” Dalton made it a point to ask his daughter that question and when her jaw set and she shook her head, he reached out, fluffing her hair as he chuckled. “Ya get the stubborn side honest, darlin.”

“Hey! He does too!” Ivy pointed it out with a soft laugh as she shook her head. After a few seconds, she shrugged. “It’s all water under the bridge now anyway. I’d settle for just being friends again.”

“And who says you can’t, huh?”

“I guess I could try?” Ivy bit her lip as she mulled it over. Her father nodded and pointed out, “Friends is better than nothing.”

“It is.”

XXX

The house was in a frenzy when Adam peeked in and he chuckled. Ivy was swearing, fanning at smoke and opening the windows and Constance was laughing about it. “I told you we could’ve just bought a cake. Nooooo… you just had to try to play Betty Crocker, today of all days.”

“I used to be better at baking. Anyway, speak for yourself Ms. I charbroiled the chicken.” Ivy poked out her tongue at her older sister as she wrinkled her nose and grabbed the cake plate, hurrying towards the trash with it.

Adam chuckled and cleared his throat as he stepped in, waving his hands, snickering harder when Constance hurried past with the burnt remnants of the chicken she’d been baking and stopped long enough to offer an apologetic smile.

“Ya’ll need any help in here, or?” Adam asked both women with Ivy blurting “Yes” and Connie insisting that they had it under control and he’d done enough. Adam eyed Ivy and he gave a teasing wink, opting to listen to her answer.

Connie looked from Adam to Ivy and muttered with a soft laugh, “I’m gonna just run into town.. Maybe buy some more chicken and some other stuff.”

“And a cake.” Ivy laughed out after her sister before turning her attention to Adam.

“You don’t have to stay…” Ivy shook her head, tensing a little as that tension between them came right back in, lingering heavily.

“It’s fine. Not like I had anywhere else to be.” Adam shrugged, taking the bowl with dry flour sitting out on the island and dumping the little bit of flour left in the bowl into the garbage. He turned around and found himself body to body with Ivy, who was apparently trying to put a bowl into the sink nearby.

Adam found himself staring down at her intently, maybe migrating a little closer. “ I really make you that nervous?” he questioned, swallowing hard when she shook her head and made no move to back away like he figured she would.

“No, you don’t.”

Adam bit his lip, clenching and unclenching his hand at his side, fighting the urge to rest it against her hip as he nodded to the destruction of the kitchen all around them. “What were ya’ll doing anyway?”

“Well, the hospital is lettin dad come home tomorrow. And the twins birthdays are coming up, so we were gonna celebrate earlier than usual, invite everybody over tomorrow but have it all ready to go.. Which, as you can see, went off the rails.”

“Not entirely.” Adam chuckled, rubbing his chin in thought.

“Have you looked around? There’s flour on the ceiling beam, Adam.”

Adam chuckled and reached out, before he could stop himself, rubbing his thumb over flour smeared across the bridge of her nose. “ I thought you used to love bakin.. You were always makin me things.”

“Guess I just haven’t done it in a while. And anyway, that was a new recipe I found!”

“Okay, look.. All the other stuff can wait ‘til tomorrow. But if you really wanna make this cake of yours.. I don’t mind helpin.” Adam’s body brushed against hers and Ivy’s breath caught in her throat. Before she could stop herself, she was nodding yes and gathering up everything they might need.

It was a good distraction. It got her moving, it kept her from doing what she longed to do most at that point in time, hugging herself against him, burying her face in his chest and just letting her earlier talk with her mother out because she’d always felt like she could tell him anything.

She just missed that so much. She missed him and yes, it was driving her crazy, the strain between them.

Adam pouted as she stepped away, busying herself with gathering up all her ingredients and starting to measure them out. Taking another one of his beer cans out of the fridge, he popped the top and took a long sip. “Why not just make that chocolate one you always used to make?”

Ivy stopped and dragged her fingers through wild waves, staring up at him and smiling as she gave a slow nod. “That’s actually not a bad idea.”

“I get half, right?” Adam teased, making her give a soft laugh and she shrugged. “I mean.. I could make you a smaller one. Can you even still eat things like chocolate cake?” Ivy teased gently, stopping in front of him again as she stared up, “Being on tv and all that jazz?”

“Do I look like I care one way or the other, darlin?” Adam’s voice came out huskier and he leaned down, fingertips just barely brushing against her side. He almost wanted to smirk a little when he felt her shiver ever so slightly.

Maybe there’s still somethin’ there after all. Adam thought to himself as he cleared his throat and clapped his hands together, mostly to distract himself.

“I believe we were about to try sharin a kitchen again.”

“I believe we were.” Ivy pouted, praying he didn’t notice it as she met his gaze and plastered on a little smile. “We should… probably get this started, hm?”

“Yeah.” Adam swallowed hard as her fingertips momentarily trailed over the front of his black tee shirt… When she wiped flour onto his nose, he grumbled and poked out his tongue. “Haha. Real funny, darlin.”

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t resist it.” Ivy giggled, trying to dart out of his reach as he tried to catch her…

#adam hangman page fanfiction #adam hangman page fanfic #adam hangman page fic #adam hangman page imagines #adam hangman page imagine #part 6 of ?#// alcohol tw #// angst #// slow burn #// exotic dancer ofc #// maaaybe a hint of happy here.

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