#the gang on the loose nothin’ you can do you can try but why you know you’re gonna lose

[prettyboy-writes]

♡ ˎˊ𝙿𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝'𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎ˏˋ ♡

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・° ☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 - 𝘔𝘢𝘯𝘫𝘪𝘳𝘰 '𝘔𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘺' 𝘚𝘢𝘯𝘰 𝘹 𝘔𝘢𝘭𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: 𝘮𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘺 𝘮𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘢𝘭 𝘨𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘴𝘴 𝘢𝘴𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘨𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘶𝘱 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘤𝘩𝘪 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘺 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘶𝘱 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘨𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘢𝘥𝘭𝘺 𝘪𝘯𝘫𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘥.

𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘯' 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥,𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘨𝘢𝘱 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳.

Bloodied and bruised is what the blonde was. He’d never met someone that could land so many hits on him without getting the same,what made it worse was that the boy was shorter than him. He was honestly impressed but couldn’t say that infront of his friends when he’s already loosing.

YN was pissed,pissed and annoyed. Sano’s little fake blonde friend wouldn’t shut up about never giving up and to face your problems. No matter how many hits he landed on sano he wouldn’t go down. Raising his hands he was ready to propose a solution.

“Call off your guys and I’ll call if mines. We can do this,another way.” YN stood straight,fixing his jacket. Manjiro looked around before shrugging his shoulders and whispering something to Draken. The tattooed man nodded in what seemed to be agreement before yelling.

“Oi! The presidents needa’ hold off the fight!” All 250 of the men paused in their positions,some with their hands midair ready to knock others clean out while some people fell from mid air as they were ready to jump onto someone and beat them half to death.

All the white jackets,aka your members looked at you as if they were asking “is he speaking for you as well?” You nodded at them and they all went back to their positions and by their friends,laughing and teasing at how bad they were beat or praising how many people one took down.

“Manjiro sano,I propose a truce. You won’t go down because of your oddly positive friend and I’m simply running out of energy.” You walked closer to the blonde,he seemed to tense,unsure if you were being serious.

“How about,we share the area. We fight against other gangs who somehow manage to make their way into our Territory.” He looked at ken for reassurance,earning a nod from him.

“A truce it is,LN” you both shook hands,receiving cheers of celebration from the 250 men that stood alongside you both.

“If I’m bein’ honest I was about to pass out sleep on the nearest toman member!” Someone from your gang yelled causing laughter to erupt. You only shook your head with a smile and you pinched the bridge of your nose.

Mikey suddenly couldn’t take his eyes off of you. The embarrassment on your face as you tried to hold back a laugh,the little blush that dusted your cheeks. Why did he all of a sudden find you so pretty,why did he find you attractive.

Shaking his head while closing his eyes,ridding the confusing thoughts. “It was such a pleasure to fight with the unbeatable Manjiro sano,but it is time I take my leave.” You raised your arms dramatically and just in que your co-president came driving by,swooping you up by your waist and onto the shared motorcycle.

“Your all dismissed,thank you for fighting alongside me today!” You waved at your gang members as they let out a series of “my pleasure” and “welcomes’”. You gave a smile before you exited the grounds on the bike.

Mikey was stunned. How the fuck did you look so elegant while getting snatched off your feet ? How did you get one hundred and fifty larger men to give you their full repsect and undivided attention? Mikey had so many questions right now.

And that led to today. You were sitting in a small bakery,a table close to the glass wall where you could see any and everything,including the blonde walking to the door. You watched as he walked in searching for a familiar color of hair,waving at him his eyebrows raised and he headed towards you waving with a smile.

“Yo” you raised your head slightly before tilting it back. He sat in the chair looking around before speaking up. “I want to end the rivalry between our gangs.” He spoke,his tone was nervous but his face was stoic and didn’t change a bit. You shrugged. “Sure,I mean why not.” His face practically lit up when he heard your agreement.

“Let’s celebrate with dorayaki!” He waved towards the waitress who immediately rushed over with a pen and notepad. “Can I get two melonpan? They are very sweet and I need sugar.” You held up two fingers as you spoke and the waitress nodded. She looked between you two obviously nervous.

“I’ll be right back with your food,congrats on the relationship you two!” She gave another smile before walking off. Your face immediately warmed up and you looked at Mikey who was also flustered before looking down.

Why didn’t he deny asking you out? Why didn’t you deny him asking you out? God this was so embarrassing. You shook the thought as lightly tapped your cheeks,ridding the warmth before looking up at the blonde.

“M’ sorry about that.” He apologized offering a soft smile. You once again felt the warmth travel up to your cheeks. “It’s fine,just a simple misunderstanding.” He nodded and once again his eyes lit up when he saw the waitress heading to your table with plates.

She set them both down before slightly bowing and walking away. You bit into the bread,not moving it from your mouth as you looked around before finishing the bite and chewing it. Mikey was slightly confused but nonetheless flustered at how strangely cute you looked.

“Say LN,how old are ya’?” Mikey asked as he played around with his food,making the fish seem as if it was swimming. “Mmm,just turned 14. Why?” You answered as soon as you swallowed your bread. His eyes widened. “Woah. Your younger than me? Well I mean it’s not that big of a surprise seeing your height-“ Mikey immediately regretted talking about your height when he saw your glare.

“I am the perfect height for my age,manjiro.” Your eyes narrowed on the blonde causing him to raise his hands in a surrendering manner. “Geez,hit a nerve there.” You huffed before looking away as you took another bite of your bread,earning a snicker from Mikey. Your eyes flickered back to him,he was suddenly staring at something,with his full attention.

In all honesty he was admiring your face,he had never thought of anyone pretty. Let alone have a crush on someone. This was a new discovery for him and he didn’t know how to go about it. Maybe he’d talk to takemitchy later,he has a girlfriend. His thoughts were interrupted when your voice was heard.

“Whaddya’ staring at?” You attempted to following where his eyes where but it seemed like he was staring at the empty chair behind you. He shrugged before biting into his dorayaki happily.

Not only was he happy that he saved his guys a possibly big fight that could cause serious injuries and possible deaths,but he also made an ally. A cute one at that. “Nothin,just thinking.” You gave an understanding nod and rested your cheek on your palm,looking through the glass walls.

“Hey does your friend know I can see his tall ass? He sucks at hiding.” Your vision hovered on Draken who was trying to hide behind a wall. Mikey laughed at your honesty before turning to him and waving him off with a nod.

“He didn’t quite trust the idea of me coming to meet you alone.” Mikey admitted. You shrugged before eating the last bite of your bread. “Hey uh,do you maybe wanna go on a walk? Tomorrow?” The blonde nervously asked with a smile.

You nodded,returning his kind smile. “Alright,it’s a date. See you then,Mikey” you stood up and placed a 1000 yen bill before exiting the cafe,waving at Mikey through the glass.

His cheeks were bright red as he tried to wave back at you. He settled rivalry,gained an ally and got a date? God this day was just going perfect for him.

“Oh god what should I wear? What do you wear for date walks?!” He pointed to the waitress who served you and him. She nervously answered: “a nice hoodie and a pair of jeans always work?” Manjiro nodded and yelled a “thankyou” as he walked out of the cafe waving.

You can bet he went to Takemichi to help him pick out a hoodie with Draken following along giving his opinion every now and then.

.

.

.

.

Request are open

[bowlegsandbiceps]

Suptober Day 6: Cemetery Boys

Mature | Biker!Dean/Castiel | Destiel | 5,285

Read on AO3

Suptober Masterlist (A03)

Castiel was sitting in the middle of a crowded restaurant when Benny slid into the seat across from him. He stuck out like a sore thumb in his rough jeans and flannel amid the midday lunch crowd all in skirts and suits. It took Castiel a moment to pick his jaw up off the table but when he did, he was livid.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“Relax buddy I’m just here to deliver a message.”

“You can’t be here. I’m waiting for someone.” Castiel glanced around, noting that a few eyes flicked away, their interest peaked by the rough and tumble man who clearly wasn’t supposed to be there.

“Yeah, yeah I know. Your boyfriend.” Benny rolled his eyes, hooking his elbow over the back of the chair, and gazed around the space. He smiled wolfishly at an old lady who immediately averted her eyes. “You find it ironic that you went from dating a man on one side of the law and then immediately jumped into bed with a guy on the other?”

Castiel grit his teeth. “I did not immediately - Look I didn’t like you when we ran in the same circles so if you’d be so kind as to show yourself to the door.”

“Right back at’cha, sweet cheeks.” Benny grinned. “But the prez sent me on an errand and I gotta complete it.” Benny’s face turned serious as he leaned over the table, lowering his voice.“Some shit’s about to go down.”

Castiel blinked then leaned in as well, his own voice a low rumble. “That sounds like a ‘you’ problem.”

Benny snorted. “Look I dunno if your new boyfriend talks shop with you but the Demons aren’t taking too kindly to his new two strikes policy. They put out a hit on him.”

Castiel squinted at him. “Why are you telling me this?”

Benny examined his fingernails. “Figured you’d wanna know.”

Castiel bit his lower lip, thinking. “No. No, you wouldn’t come here-“

Benny sat up straighter in his chair. “You’re right I wouldn’t. But the VP gives an order, I follow it.” Benny leaned closer. 

Castiel clenched his jaw. “Dean sent you.”

Benny lifted his hands and clapped loudly four times, drawing every eye in the room to them. Castiel sunk down in his seat. “Now you’re catching on.” Benny grinned, eyeing Castiel. “So, what is it like fucking the D.A. fresh off bein’ a biker’s old lady?” Benny gestured loosely. “So to speak.”

“You need to leave.” Castiel nodded towards the door. “Now. You have no right to interrupt my lunch-“

“Looks like I was interrupting you being stood up, but okay.”

“-with bullshit. I told Dean to stay out of my life and I meant it. Sending you instead is not a loophole. It’s a waste of your time.”

Benny snorted. “Don’t I know it.” He sucked his teeth. “But say I am right. And your shining beacon of civil obedience does have a price on his head. Would meeting him for lunch right now really be that good of an idea.”

Castiel grit his teeth. “If Dean thinks he can come in and disrupt my-“

“Hello, darling. So sorry I’m late.” A man in a dark suit, impeccably tailored, rushed by, leaning to peck Castiel on the cheek. When his eyes fell on Benny he barely even blinked. “Benny Laffitte, where’s your kutte, it’s not often you see a Man of Mayhem out of uniform unless it’s in my courtroom.”

Benny gave him a wan smile. “Crowley. Just passing on information to your beau here. I’ll be on my way.” Benny stood from his seat, towering over Crowley

Crowley’s eyes narrowed. “What information is that, pray tell?”

Benny grinned down at him. “I ain’t no snitch, Mr. Prosecutor. Ask your boy.” Benny gave Castiel a nod before he swaggered away, a hush following him through the room so that the clang of his hand on the glass door rang out when he exited.

Castiel sat back, chewing his bottom lip as Crowley took his seat, grabbing the napkin on his plate and draping it in his lap. “You want to tell me what that was all about.” Crowley reached for the bottle of water on the table, tipping some into his goblet then topping off Castiel’s.

Castiel brooded for a moment. “Nothing. It was nothing. Just…”

Crowley raised an eyebrow. “Just?”

Castiel heaved a sigh. “Dean thinks the Demons have a hit out on you.”

Crowley blinked, setting the bottle back down. “Well, it’s a good thing you were never inducted into The Cemetery Boys because you fold like a cheap suit my love.”

“Oh shut up,” Castiel groused, reaching for his water glass but he was smiling by the time it touched his lips. Crowley gave him a smirk. “So… it’s ridiculous right?”

Crowley raised his brows, hooking his elbows on the table and holding one hand in the other. “Oh know they have a bounty on my head.”

Castiel choked on his water. “Wh-what?”

“No need to worry, darling. It’s merely a formality so they look tough for all the other little gangs around town.” Crowley sipped at his water. 

“The MC never put hits out on anyone just to look tough,” Castiel objected, looking horrified and Crowley lifted a brow.

“Oh did they put them out for other reasons?”

Castiel’s eyes went flat. “The Cemetery Boys are a group of motorcycle enthusiasts. The worst thing they’re guilty of is drinking too much on a weeknight.” Castiel scoffed when Crowley smirked.

“Drug trafficking, weapons trafficking, racketeering, sports betting-“

“Alright, alright,” Castiel huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. He looked around the room for a moment before glancing back at his boyfriend. “You’re safe though?”

Crowley’s eyes softened, his hand reaching across the table. Castiel took it. “I’m touched. Yes, safe as houses.”

#

When Castiel pulled into his apartment complex that evening after work he couldn’t help but notice the Harley parked across the street from his building. A young man was sitting astride it, eyes on his phone. Castiel slammed the door to his car watching as the young man jumped and met his eyes before he immediately looked down again. Castiel sighed, striding over with purposeful steps.

“Hello, Sam.”

The young man looked up, his shaggy hair hanging in his eyes before he shook it back. “Hey, Cas.”

Castiel looked around. “Where’s your brother?”

Sam shifted. “Dunno.”

“He wouldn’t have you here by yourself. Where is he?”

Sam’s face screwed up, indignant. “Hey, I’m a Prospect now!” He twisted so Castiel could get a look at the designation on the back of his leather vest.

Castiel’s brow creased. “I thought you were going to Stanford.”

Sam’s head dipped, fiddling with his phone again. “Nah, I belong here. With my family.”

Castiel placed a hand on his shoulder. “Sam, you wanted to be a lawyer.”

Sam shrugged him off. “Yeah well, now I wanna be a Cemetery Boy. What do you care anyway? You left.”

Castiel’s mouth pressed into a thin line. “I was with Dean for a long time-“

“Yeah. And you left.”

“-and you know why I left. It’s why you left too.”

Sam leveled his gaze on Castiel. “Yeah. And I came back.” He paused. “It’s not safe for you right now. Crowley’s got a detail but you don’t. He should be protecting you.”

“I don’t need protecting, Sam!” Castiel sighed exasperatedly. “And if I did it wouldn’t be your job to do it. Or Dean’s.”

Sam shifted, his hazel eyes going soft in a way that Castiel knew was going to hit him right in the gut. “You could come back too. You don’t have to pledge-“

Castiel started to laugh. “Yeah, no. I’ve moved on.” Castiel made to turn away. “Tell your brother he should do the same.”

“He has!” Sam called after him, voice petulant. “New girl every night!”

Castiel’s eyes cut over his shoulder at Sam before heading up the stairs to his apartment.

#

The creak of his bedroom door woke Castiel from a dead sleep at 2:13 am. His eyes opened to his alarm clock, fluttered for a moment as his brain cleared. The sound of a hammer locking into place brought everything into sharp perspective and before he even took a breath he’d rolled off the side of the bed, the gunshot booming impossibly loud in the silent room. 

He didn’t have a weapon, had always hated guns, but crouched between his closet and his mattress he would have given anything to have Dean’s pearl-handled .45. He’d give anything to have Dean here. The sound of boots on hardwood thunked closer and Castiel stood abruptly, grabbed a pillow and threw it. 

It hit the intruder in the face and the gun went off again, the flash bringing spots to Castiel’s vision as he rushed the guy, knocking him hard in Castiel’s dresser. The intruder was trying to get the gun up and Castiel grabbed for the lamp, smashing it over the guy’s head as he made a break for the door. Pinballing off the hallway walls he tripped into the living room just as his front door was kicked in.

Dean Winchester charged forward, reaching for Castiel on instinct and shoving him behind him. The intruder emerged from the bedroom, gun outstretched and Dean brought the bat he held up and swung. The sickening crack of a wrist breaking, followed by an inhuman howl of pain turned Castiel’s stomach and he had to hold on to the back of his couch to keep from hitting the floor. Another sickening crack of the bat and the horrid sucking sound of a man trying to pull in a breath his body won’t accept.

“Dean.” Castiel turned his head, immediately snapping his eyes shut when he saw Dean raise the bat over his head but thanks to the sound of it cracking across the intruder’s back, Castiel’s brain unhelpfully provided him with a visual. “Dean! Please!”

Dean froze bat aloft and looked over, finding Castiel hanging on to the back of his couch, legs trembling beneath him. He was sucking in breath through his nose and letting it out of his mouth slowly as if trying not to vomit. Dean dropped the bat.

“‘ey Cas,” Dean grabbed his biceps and immediately pulled him to his chest. “Hey, it’s okay. I’ve got you.”

“W-w-who was that. What….what’s happening?”

Dean petted his hair, sucking in a deep breath as Castiel’s arms went around him feebly, Castiel leaning all his weight against Dean. Dean pressed his face to the top of Castiel’s head. “Nothin’ for you to worry about. You’re safe now.”

#

“I want a uniformed officer on this building at all times. No one should come in and out of here without express clearance. Is that clear!?”

Dean and Castiel watched from where they stood leaning against the back of the couch as Crowley continued his rampage. Dean leaned towards Castiel.

“He’s pretty intimidating for a short guy. I’ll admit it.” Dean shrugged and Castiel cut his eyes at him.

“He’s not short. You and your brother are just freakishly tall.”

“He’s shorter than you.”

“I too am taller than average.”

Dean pounced. “Since when do you like average?”

Castiel’s head whipped to look at him. “Since it generally follows the law.”

Dean made a face. “A whole hell of a lot of good it did you tonight.”

“Winchester, what are you even doing here!” It seemed that Crowley’s tirade had finally turned to him and Dean gave him a placid smile.

“Oh just taking care of Cas here. You know. What you should have been doing.”

Castiel raised a hand. “Hey, hey now. This was no one’s fault.”

“Really,” Dean asked, his eyes ablaze as he glanced at Castiel and then lanced Crowley with a heated stare. “Last time I checked, D. A. Douchebag here had a security detail. Why wasn’t he protected, huh?”

“There were no credible threats on-”

“It’s the Demons, Crowley!” Dean shook his head, his face slack in disbelief. “They always make good on their threats. He should have had someone on him from the second you got the intel two days ago.”

“Wait, what?” Castiel looked to Crowley astonished. “Fergus, is he telling the truth? Did you know about this and not tell me?”

Dean crossed his arms over his chest, looking supremely satisfied as Crowley’s face soured. He looked from Dean to Castiel. “Darling,” Crowley took Castiel’s hands in his, leading him away from Dean. “I would never put you in harm’s way. I’m appalled you’d even think it. I’m sorry I didn’t listen to the intel. I thought…” Crowley pursed his lips. “I thought no one would dare go after you.” His eyes cut to Dean, gaze hateful. “I was wrong.”

“Damn right you were wrong,” Dean accused, pointing a finger at Crowley. “And it almost got him killed.”

“Dean,” Castiel sighed, holding up a hand.

“What? Cas you can’t possibly be giving him a pass on this.” Dean’s voice was indignant.

“Dean you can’t possibly think that he knowingly let this happen.”

“I think something stinks in here and it ain’t the biker,” Dean snapped.

Castiel sighed, reaching for Dean’s shoulder and forcing him to turn towards the door. ‘Thank you. For… for…”

“Saving you,” Dean supplied and Castiel fought the roll of his eyes.

“Yes, thank you for that, but I think the police have it from here.”

Dean glanced over his shoulder and leaned closer into Castiel. “I don’t trust him, Cas. There’s something really fishy about this.”

“You’re paranoid, Dean.”

“It’s not paranoia if you’re right.”

Castiel sighed again, rubbing his forehead. “Goodnight, Dean.”

“You should come to the clubhouse. It’s safe and no one would-“

“Good night, Dean.”

Den pressed his lips together, throwing one last scowl over his shoulder at Crowley before giving Castiel a pleading look that went unanswered. He heaved a sigh and left.

#

Castiel laid awake a long time after Crowley had fallen asleep, listening to his light snores. They’d talked after the police cleared out, Crowley apologizing profusely for not taking the threat more seriously. Something continued to niggle at Castiel, some deep-seated intuition that wouldn’t let him sleep.

Castiel: Dean?

Dean: Yeah, Cas.

Castiel: I wasn’t sure if you still had this number

Dean: Looks like I do.

Dean: Everything okay?

Castiel’s thumbs hovered over the screen as he chewed his bottom lip. 

Castiel: Yeah. Yeah, everything is fine. I’m sorry for bothering you.

Dean: It’s no bother Cas. Message me any time.

Dean: Or call. 

Castiel put his phone back on the bedside table and resettled but sleep didn’t come.

#

Castiel’s unease stayed with him through the morning and well into the next afternoon. Crowley had assured him that the threat on him had been neutralized but agreed to keep a uniform officer on him when Castiel didn’t let up. He couldn’t focus at work, his mind drifting to Crowley and what he was doing, who he was talking to. Was he safe? Was Castiel? By the time evening came, he had a pretty terrible headache and a determination to get some answers.

Rocky’s Bar is a ramshackle establishment off route 6 that Castiel had hoped to never set foot in. The fact that the Cemetery Boys ran nightclubs all over town was a well-known fact as was their reputation for keeping order in these establishments. Castiel just wasn’t much for strip clubs, especially those run by his ex-boyfriend. 

Stepping inside he expected to smell cigar smoke and sex but instead was greeted by a pleasant, feminine scent, sweet and cloying but not overbearing. He spotted Dean immediately behind the bar, grinning at a scantily clad woman as he loaded drinks onto her tray. Castiel stamped down the flare of jealousy in his gut.

Dean was watching the show now, eyes on the girl spinning on the pole as he wiped down glasses behind the bar. Castiel sidled up and it took Dean a minute to look at him. When he did he dropped the glass he’d been wiping so that it shattered on the floor. 

“Shit!” Dean hopped back to avoid glass spraying over the toes of his boots. “Cas? What the fuck are you doing here?”

“I need answers.”

Dean had moved down the bar going for a broom that was tucked in a corner. He paused, looking back over his shoulder at Castiel. His jaw tightened as he turned away again, snatching the broom and coming back over to sweep up his mess.

“Why don’t you ask your boyfriend?”

“I did,” Castiel said, pausing to watch Dean methodically push glass into the dustpan. “Now I’m asking you.”

“What’d he tell you?” Dean set the broom and dustpan aside, crossing his arms over his chest and Castiel was not at all distracted by the flex of his biceps and the way his shirt stretched around his muscles. He wasn’t wearing his kutte, just a black v-neck and jeans.

“That I was safe. That the threat had been neutralized.”

Dean’s eyes widened just the slightest bit before his face went dangerously blank. He turned his head, looking down the bar, and then returned his gaze to the stage. Castiel huffed, annoyed, and stepped into his line of sight.

“Do you ever get tired of looking at tits?”

Dean snorted. “Absolutely not.”

Castiel rolled his eyes and turned to stomp off. “Never mind. I don’t even know why I bothered to come here.”

Dean was out from behind the bar in a microsecond, reaching for Castiel’s arm before worming in front of him, blocking his exit. “Sorry. I’m sorry. You want answers? I’ll give them to you. Just… “ Dean looked around and his eyes landed on something over Castiel's shoulder. He cocked his head back and Castiel glanced back to see Benny dutifully pulling himself up from an armchair and making his way over. He begrudgingly took Dean’s place behind the bar.

Upstairs in the office, Castiel couldn’t help but feel a little intimidated. It was a tiny space, just big enough for the large desk and a few filing cabinets. Dean wormed his way behind the desk and Castiel forced himself into the small armchair across from him. There were posters of half-naked women on the walls and Castiel was once again struck with an extreme sense of inadequacy. Dean loved women, but Castiel knew Dean has also loved him.

“So you wanna hear word on the street or just straight facts?” Dean was pulling out a bottle of whiskey from one of the drawers along with two mugs. One of them was the one Castiel got him for Christmas two years ago that said “Send Noods” with a bowl of Ramen noodles. 

“Let's start with facts,” Castiel said showing Dean his palm, declining the drink. Dean shrugged and poured himself one.

“The fact is that the Demons are going after Crowley and the people close to him.” Dean picked up his mug. “You.” He sipped. “They’re using out of towners, seasoned guys not prospects.” Dean’s eyes leveled on Castiel. “That makes it a serious threat.”

“Why?” Castiel asked, shifting in his seat.

“Prospects are idiots,” Dean waved a hand then pursed his lips. “My brother excluded.” Dean shook his head. “You don’t give important jobs to prospects. They’re meant for grunt work and low-level intimidation. That guy I clubbed in your apartment was a Nomad - an out-of-state-er, no home club. Meant to blow in and out of town, generally used for serious shit they don’t want traced back to the local club.”

“O-kay.”

Dean sighed, seemingly annoyed that Castiel wasn’t understanding something. “These guys are one step down from trained assassins, Cas. It was a serious threat.”

“Why would Crowley lie to me?” Castiel burst out and Dean downed the rest of his drink.

“I dunno, Cas. Why do you think?”

Castiel bristled. “Oh, I guess you have an opinion?”

Dean gave him a smarmy grin. “Oh, I have several.”

“This is stupid.” Castiel threw his hands in the air. “I shouldn’t have come here.” 

Castiel made to leave but Dean stood, gripping his wrist and refusing to let go. “Cas, wait. Come on. This is serious okay? I assume he put a uni on you?”

“Yeah but I ditched him,” Castiel settled back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest.

Dean rubbed his face hard. “Why would you do that?”

“Because I didn’t want Crowley to know I came to you, Dean. Why do you think?” Castiel scoffed shaking his head and Dean set his jaw.

“What he got a problem with me or something?”

Castiel gave him a deadpan stare the lifted a finger, counting off each, “Drug trafficking, weapons trafficking, racketeering-“

Dean hissed waving his hands at Castiel. “Alright alright, enough.” Dean sighed. “Word on the street is that Alaistair put the hit out because your boyfriend,” Dean looked disgusted as he said it, “is trying to go maximum sentence when he’s only at two strikes.”

“Didn’t Alaistair maim and torture two immigrant women?”

“Yeah, but they were stealing his coke when they were supposed to be muling it.”

Castiel blinked. “So he tortured and maimed them?”

Dean gave a shrug.

Castiel felt his stomach go cold. “Do you do that?”

Dean gave a shrug then smiled. “We don’t run drugs, Cas. We’re just a group of motorcycle enthusiasts.” 

Castiel rolled his eyes. “That’s it? That’s all the information you have?”

Dean shifted in his seat. “There’s some other things. In-fighting and some club shit you don’t need to know but it’s not relevant to you or your safety.”

“But it’s about Crowley?”

Dean gave a short nod.

“What is it?”

Dean reached up to rub his chin, the scratch of his stubble barely heard over the thumping bass in the club below. “He’s paying off some officers on the force.”

Castiel’s brow crinkled. “What? Why?”

Dean shrugged. “No idea.”

“That’s a lie.”

“Okay so I have some idea but it’s just a gut feeling. And you only wanted facts.”

Castiel frowned. “Tell me.”

“He’s going to make a bid for mayor right?”

Castiel blinked. “Uh… yeah he’s been thinking about- how did you-?”

Dean waved a hand. “Guys like him only want power. And he’ll do anything to get it. He’s set all his pieces on the board. Stellar win record in court, charitable donations to all the right charities…” Dean eyed Castiel. “Wholesome, attractive man on his arm.” Castiel fought a blush, looking at his lap. “But he needs an edge.”

“What kind of edge.”

Dean tilted his head. “That I don’t know.”

They were silent for a moment.

“Are you going to continue to have someone in the club tail me?”

“Do you want me to have someone in the club tailing you?” Castiel hesitated. “I’ll keep Sam on you.”

# 

Castiel was driving home from the club when his car was sideswiped by a large panel van. Dazed and dizzy he could barely process that he was being dragged from the car. A man smelling of whiskey and day-old sweat pulled him up before punching him solidly in the jaw. Castiel’s ears rang as something solid ran into his assailant, knocking Castiel out of his grasp and Castiel fell back against the fender of his car, trying to focus.

The sound of fists meeting flesh echoed down the empty highway. Castiel heard a shout and someone scuffling before two meaty hands gripped the lapels of his trench coat and began to drag him towards the back of the van. Castiel began to struggle, eyes trying to focus and he saw Sam Winchester fighting against two men in black hoodies and face masks, his wide reach the only thing keeping him up in that fight. 

A twin engine sounded in the distance and Castiel felt his heart clench, struggling harder as two sets of hands tried to haul him up into the back of the van. He could barely see, the old two-lane road unlit except for the headlight of the bike as it drew nearer and the broken headlights of the van crunched into the side of his car. Castiel’s feet were leaving the ground as he was lifted bodily and he yelled out despite himself. 

“No! Let me go! Get off me! Help! Help!”

“Get off him you son of a bitch!” Dean’s voice rang out in the silent night, the motor on his bike dying as he skidded to a halt and let it drop to the ground as he vaulted off of it. He fired off a round into the air, everyone around him cringing down and looking his way. 

“Shit, Dean Winchester,” one of them muttered, dropping Castiel immediately and it was enough for Castiel to break free.

Without thinking he ran towards Dean, throwing his body at him and Dean accepted him with open arms, cocooning him in a tight embrace. Castiel clutched him close, fear pumping through his veins, heart galloping so hard in his chest he felt sick from it. He heard boots on gravel and one of Dean’s arms shot out, pointing the gun at the man who tried to approach.

“Stay out of this Winchester.”

The gun fired and Castiel gave a small cry, pressing his face hard into Dean’s shoulder trying to block out the distinct sound of a body hitting the pavement. 

“Anyone else got something to say?!” Dean shouted, his other arm still wrapped tight around Castiel. “You.” Dean gestured with the gun. “Tell Alaistair he comes near Castiel Novak again, he’ll be shitting his own teeth for a week.”

A high laugh bubbled from behind Castiel and he gripped Dean tighter at the icy sound. “We don’t work for Alaistair. Don’t you know, Winchester? There’s a new God in town and he’s playing for keeps.”

The gun went off again and someone howled in pain. “I’m not much for riddles,” Dean spit. 

“Dean…”

“Shut up, Cas.”

Castiel shut up, keeping his chin tucked over Dean’s shoulder.

“He calls himself Lucifer,” A trembling voice hissed. “He’s working with the prosecutor.”

Castiel’s breath hitched. He felt Dean swallow hard.

“How?” Dean’s voice was more a command than a question.

“To take over the Demons. Alaistair goes down and he’s the new leader. Anyone who stands against him dies.”

“What’s in it for Crowley?” Dean demanded.

“Mayor,” Sam chimed in, his voice astonished. “He puts Alasiatr away, the infighting stops and there’s peace on the streets again.”

“What does this have to do with Cas?” Dean redoubled his grip and Castiel tried to keep himself from trembling. Silence. Another gunshot, this time followed by rapid-fire speech.

“Jesus! Okay, okay! He wants him dead.”

“Lucifer? Why?” Dean asked.

“No, Dean,” Sam replied and Castiel knew before Sam even said it. “Crowley.”

“What?” Dean’s voice was astonished, his gun lowering a bit and Castiel merely closed his eyes, turning his face into Dean’s neck.

“You said it yourself. He needs an edge,” Sam’s voice was almost giddy with understanding. “What’s better than a dead husband?”

Dean’s entire body stiffened. “They aren’t married.”

Castiel curled in more, his throat feeling as if it might burst. “Not yet. I found the ring. He was going to ask soon.”

Dean growled softly. “Alright, you and you, listen up. Anyone comes near Castiel Novak and they’ll deal with the Cemetery Boys. You want a war you fucking got one. Now get your friend out of here before he bleeds out on the side of the road. Sammy, call a tow and wait with the car. Cas,” Dean’s voice softened as he turned his head, nose brushing in Castiel’s hair. “You’re with me.”

Castiel didn’t object.

#

Castiel wasn’t fully cognizant of anything that was happening to him until he found himself being helped into a pair of Dean’s sweat pants in the room above the clubhouse. Dean had practically carried him up the stairs, sat him on a chair, and chattered at him about anything and everything while he went about putting clean sheets on the bed. 

Castiel shivered as Dean guided his arms through an old club t-shirt, one that Castiel used to sleep in when he and Dean had been together. Why had he ever left Dean? He’d been so mad for so long he couldn’t even remember why anymore. And given the night’s events, he was sure it was small and insignificant in comparison to everything he’d done for Castiel tonight.

“Dean.” Castiel reached for his hip and Dean placed his hands on Castiel’s biceps, steadying him.

“You need to get some sleep. You’re dead on your feet.”

Castiel acquiesced though reluctantly as Dean guided him over to the bed. The mattress was lumpy but the linens smelled like fresh laundry and Castiel curled up as Dean tucked him in. Castiel caught his wrist when Dean made to move away.

“Stay. Please.”

Dean swallowed hard. “Cas, I-“

“I just want you to hold me.” Castiel knew he’d likely feel shame later but right now all he wanted was comfort. “Please.”

Dean was perilous to stop himself, toeing out of his boots and letting his jeans fall to the floor. He shrugged out of his kutte, hanging it on the arm of the chair before tossing his flannel aside and slid between cool sheets next to Castiel. Dean chuckled as he was immediately enveloped, Castiel latching onto him like an octopus, and god, how he’d missed this.

“Thank you,” Castiel murmured into his chest and Dean shivered at his warm breath on the bare skin of his chest. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I didn’t listen. Dean. I’m sorry.” He was starting to hyperventilate and Dean held him tighter.

“Shhh, calm down, Cas. It’s okay. You were just… It doesn’t matter. I forgive you okay. Don’t freak out, just breathe.”

“How could I be so stupid?” Castiel panted, his eyes squeezing shut. “How could I not see it?”

“Well Crowley is a slimy, lying son of a bitch and you’re… well… you trust people too easy, Cas.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Yeah, sweetheart, you do. It’s something I love about you but only when I’m around to look out for you.”

“I never should have left.” Silence stretched. “Dean?”

“I’m not gonna argue with you.”

Castiel couldn’t help it, he huffed a laugh. “You’re an asshole.” They were silent for a moment. “What do we do now?”

“Well, I got some lube in the drawer over th- OW!” Dean winced as Castiel pinched his nipple hard. “Easy on the goods.”

“I meant about Crowley.”

“Oh, you should definitely break up with him,” Dean nuzzled his nose into Castiel’s hair and received another, less severe, nipple tweak. 

“We can’t go to the police.”

“Nope.”

“So what do we do.”

“We’ve got church tomorrow. I’ll bring it up.”

Castiel sat up, gazing down at Dean. “You’re gonna get the club involved?”

“Honey, we’re already involved. You fuck with one of us you fuck with all of us. They hurt you. They’re lucky I only blew out their knee caps and not their skulls.”

Castiel’s eyes snapped shut. “Jesus, Dean please don’t kill anyone.”

“Aw, Cas you’re no fun.”

“This isn’t funny!”

Dean’s face turned sober. “I know. I’m sorry, I know it isn’t. Look, we can’t do anything tonight, but I promise you, you’re safe here. YOu’re safe with me.” Dean rested his forehead against Castiel’s. 

“And we’ll just… figure out the rest?” Castiel gazed up at Dean, taking in the dusting of freckles across his nose. A small smile pulled at Dean’s lips.

“Yeah. We’ll make it up as we go.”

[midnightswithdearkatytspb]

Can I Have This Dance? (Steve Rogers x Reader)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Rating: PG - Fluffy 

Word Count: 2,689

Synopsis: 4 times the reader asked Steve to dance with her and one time Steve her.

Info: Written for @cockslut-padalecki​’s Not My Ninth Challenge in celebration of 9k followers! Also Happy Belated birthday, I hope you had a great one. I choose, How Do I Live by LeAnn Rimes and Wedding Ceremony. The dividers are by @firefly-graphics​ 💘 I’m posting this on my barley working laptop, so forgive me. Also all mistakes are mine as this is not beta read.

1st Time:

Honestly what possessed her to wear her favorite white denim overall shorts to Sam’s barbecue? They were now stained with all all kinds of food and handprints from the children of the Avengers children asking to be held by her. Admittedly seeing everyone so happy and spending the afternoon with her fiancé made it worth it. Also Natasha would probably be able to show her how to get the stains out.

“Want to queue up the next song?” Sam nudged her handing over his phone that was connected to speakers. Giddily Y/N took the phone and went through the approved barbecue playlist as Killer Queen started to play, she continued to scroll as her head bopped to the song. Finding the perfect one she handed the phone over to Sam’s significant other Lou who kissed her on the cheek. 

Bucky and Steve were sharing a phone screen laughing at whatever video it was they were watching, probably one of Alpine that Bucky had taken. Getting up from her chair Y/N stood beside Steve’s and brushed her right hand across his broad shoulders, goosebumps started to rise on his skin as she leaned in to brush her lips beside his ear. 

“Come dance with me, Stevie please?" the blonde's face blushed as his fiance turned away from him making her way back towards the dancing couples. “Punk if you don't I sure as hell will.” Steve turned to give his best friend a glare just as the baritone voice sang out, jumping to his feet.

“I had a thought, dear, however scary, about that night, the bugs and the dirt. Why were you digging? What did you bury? Before those hands pulled me from the earth.” Steve rushed to Y/N’s side, a small smile on her face her fiance placed his face at her time taking in the scent of lavender and mint, while his hands rested at her hips. Y/N’s arms circled his neck interlocking her hands, eyes closing she placed her heads against his chest over his heart. As Hozier sang the couple just swayed from side to side, loving each other.

“I could not ask you where you came from. I could not ask and neither could you. Honey, just put your sweet lips on my lips, we could just kiss like real people do.” As the song came to an end Steve and Y/N’s eyes met, she was biting her lip, a look of worry was in her eyes. 

“What?” Looking placed his hands on Y/N’s face doing everything he could to ease the worry in his fiancés face. 

“Just, how would I live without you?” Steve scoffed and pulled Y/N into his arms, hugging her close, “You’ll never have to live without me, I’m going anywhere. I love you.”

2nd Time:

“Well son her mother would have loved you and I’m so proud to have you joining our family.” Andy clapped his daughters fiancé on the shoulder, before looking out on the dance floor to see all four of his children dancing together to the Macarena having a good time. 

“I’m lucky to have her Andy and I love both her and this family.” Steve assured Y/N’s father how much he loved her as the song came to an end. The DJ for the reception started to walk towards Y/N’s  sister and her husband. 

Y/N stood between her brothers playfully nudging each other like they used to do as kids. Suddenly it was quiet in the reception hall, both her and Steve were looking at Y/N’s sister and her husband who smiled at everyone, but they were staring at Y/N. 

“I need my sister Y/N and her fiancé Steve to come up here for a second.” Y/N’s brothers pushed her forward, suddenly glad she had exchanged her heels for converse 4 or 5 songs back. Steve and she met halfway there, hands grasping at each other as their fingers intertwined. The blonde leaned over and kissed the crown of his fiancé's face making her blush as they reached Legacie and Michael. 

“This weekend was actually supposed to be the weekend that Y/N and Steve got married, but 6 months ago I came to my sister and told her I was pregnant. Y/N knew Michael and I would want to move our wedding up, Y/N and Steve immediately asked if I would like to take their wedding and for that we are so thankful. The thing about my sister is she is just like our mom, always giving and so loving, it makes so much sense why Steve fell in love with my little sister. I got to thinking a way to thank you and that is dedicating a song to you, your favorite song as a kid.” Legacie passed the microphone back to the DJ, before she reached over kissing her little on the cheek. Y/N looked at her sister before her jaw dropped and her cheeks turned pink as the keyboard of the popular ’90s Australian pop singer hit started to play. 

“I'll be your dream, I'll be your wish. I'll be your fantasy, I'll be your hope, I'll be your love. Be everything that you need.” Y/N still holding onto Steve’s hand turned to stand in front of him and looked up at him. 

“Will you dance with my love?” with a smile on his face, Steve didn't even verbalize his answer, he just gave a tug of her hand pulling her body closer to his, as other couples joined them on the dance floor.

“I wanna stand with you on a mountain. I wanna bathe with you in the sea. I wanna lay like this forever. Until the sky falls down on me. I wanna stand with you on a mountain. I wanna bathe with you in the sea.I want to live like this forever. Until the sky falls down on me.” As they continued to dance among Legacie and Michale's family and friends, he tried to imagine how he would live without her in his life. He had an answer before the song was even over he knew a life without Y/N was no life at all. 

3rd Time:

She was trying really hard not to cry but it felt but it was 3:12 in the morning, it was raining, it looked like Bucky had finished off the rest of her Ben and Jerry Star Spangled Berry Swirl, and Friday was playing her I got the blues playlist. Boy did she have the blues, she shouldn’t though, it was November, the holiday season was in full swing, but it was as if her heart wasn’t in it. 

Then the piano kicked in and the tears really started. 

“Look into my eyes, you will see what you mean to me.”

Steve down the hall in bed they shared hearing sniffles of his fiancé, got out of bed, grabbing her cardigan from ottoman at the foot of the bed. Y/N stood at the kitchen island sipping a cup of hot tea as Bryan Adams sang. 

“Darling?” Steve came up behind her and placed the over side article of clothing over shoulder, kissing her temple. Setting the steaming cup of lavender and blueberries down, Y/N turned around to look him in the eyes, with tears still coming down. 

“Dance with me Stevie, please?” with a little lift of the right side of his lips. Steve pulled Y/N to him, placing her head over his heartbeat, he encased her his arms and started to sway them. 

“Don't tell me, it’s not worth fightin' for. I can't help it, there’s  nothin' I want more. You know it's true, everything I do, I do it for you.”

“I can’t live without you Stevie.” Y/N whispered into the night as she looked out at the rain coming down in the night. 

“And you won't have to," Steve promised. 

4th Time:

It was finally the New Year, 12:01 on January 1st to be exact and everyone was partying at The Metropolitan Museum of Art, thanks to Pepper and Tony. Peter Quill and his friends had made it, Thor with Jane, Carol Danver, Monica Rambeau with her friends Jimmy Woo and Darcy, Fantastic Four, Peter Parker had brought his best friend Ned and girl friend MJ, all the Avengers were there, even the Wakanda gang was accounted for, the place was packed. It seemed as if the bad guys were in need of a day off. 

Steve stood a few feet away from Y/N who was dancing with Natasha, Clint, Shuri, Peter, MJ, Wanda, Scott, Johnny, Groot, Darcy, Sam, Lou, and Jimmy Woo, they were all dancing to thank u, next, laughing and having a good time. Lou was currently on Sam's shoulders making the Bucky who was beside Steve, hoot’d, as he took a shot from the Asgardian mead. It was great for Steve to see all his friends and family to be letting loose. 

Y/N walked over as the song came to a closure and pulled Steve in for a kiss earning a cheer from the group they had surrounded themselves with. Blushing they pulled apart as the familiar violin started to play across the room, making the room erupt cheers yet again. Tonight’s crowd was easily pleased, who knew all it took was alcohol, food, friends, and good music? 

As the drum kicked in, Y/N’s head started to bop her foot tapping along, grabbing Steve’s hand she started to pull him towards the group, grabbing Bucky’s hand along the way. 

“Steve can I have this dance?” Looking over her shoulder as she got ready to start jumping up and down, Steve looked at her as if he had to think on it, but stopped when Bucky hit him in the bicep. “Not with the metal arm, and yes!”

“Come on Eileen! Oh, I swear, what he means. At this moment you mean everything, you in that dress. My thoughts I confess, verge on dirty. Oh, come on Eileen.” The group's form of dancing was jumping up and dancing, moving their heads side to side, throwing in mixed moves, like the sprinkler or epaule here and there. It was just about letting go. Steve and Y/N danced together with the fingers of their left-right hands interlaced jumping up and down, throwing their heads back and forth like they were at a rock concert. 

As Bucky danced with his best friend and the girl that had become like a sister to him, he couldn't picture their lives without one another. There was no Steve without Y/N in it, no Y/N without Steve. They were so madly, deeply in love, that to lose the other it would be close to losing themselves. He vowed at that moment to do whatever it took to always bring Steve home and to always protect Y/N for him. 

The 1 Time Steve Asked Y/N to Dance:

“This is the best birthday gift I could ever ask for!” Bucky raised his glass of bourbon to the crowded room, before he leaned down to place a kiss on Y/N’s cheek. He had just given his best man speech congratulating his best friend on finding his soulmate who made him happy, and on his retirement. Lou leaned forward putting their arms around Y/N’s shoulders swaying, making the bride laugh as the best friends hugged. 

Steve took the microphone from Sam and pulled Y/N away from her best friend, confused she looked up at him. The room was silent with all eyes on them, as it had been since the moment she stepped out onto the wooden boardwalk Pepper’s people had built leading to the dock, everyone’s eyes had been on them. 

“Through this whole wedding process my wife has been so incredibly patient with me. Originally I just said whatever you want Y/N it’s your day, but she would scrunch her face up, for her family they know what I’m talking about, the one where she doesn’t like something or doesn’t understand, anyways. Lou, Y/N’s best friend and the perfect person for Sam came to me said,

“Rogers for a superhero, you are pretty dense, the wedding day is both your big day. This is a day you both are going to look back on, tell your children about and share with your family and friends. Don’t make her plan it and make all the choices on her own.” Steve looked down at Y/N and smiled, as his wife laughed and gave her best friends hand a tight squeeze before letting it go. 

“So I did what I could, your napkins I chose, thank you very much, your centerpieces though, you are going to have to take that up with the my beautiful wife’s cousin, Willow, she handmaid these beautiful pieces for us, so we could reuse them in our winery and barn.” Willow blew the couple a kiss making the crowd laugh as Y/N caught it and stumbled back, before throwing one back just as extravagantly. 

“Anyways the reason I’m up here is because I really didn’t do that much, but I made a promise to my wife that I, the man out of time, could pick the song we dance to as a married couple.” Turning his body so now the newlyweds were now facing each other, Sam took the microphone holding it up to Steve's mouth, as Steve held both Y/N’s hands in his.

“Steve we’ve talked about this you’re right where you need to be.” Steve just nodded his head and kissed her on the lips getting a few people in the crowd cheering. Bucky, Sam, Lou, and Y/N’s siblings are motioned for the crowd to quiet down. 

“I admit I waited till last night to e-mail our DJ Ned and tell him our song. But to be fair if it hadn’t been for a talk I had while sleeping at Sam’s and him playing this song we probably would just have some random song. Thank you Sam for saving the day.” Sam pulled the microphone telling the couple it was no problem really. 

“With that all said and done, Mrs. Rogers can I have this dance?” Laughing Y/N nodded as they made their way around the tables holding hands waving to their family and friends. Ned Leeds, was the nights DJ, thanks to coming recommended by his friend Peter Parker, this was his hobby by a means to pay for college and his growing obsession of Star Wars Legos. As soon as the couple had made it to the center of the faux hardwood dance floor, he hit play.

“How do I get through one night without you? If I had to live without you, what kind of life would that be?”

Y/N let a gasp slip past her lips as the familiar country song played. Her arms held onto Steve’s shoulders, while he held onto her hips, they did their usual sway, there was no need for fancy footing or putting on a show. This was just them being them, in love, sharing that love with a room full of their closest family friends. 

“I promised you, you wouldn’t have to know what it was like to live without me, and you won’t either of you.” Y/N looked up at him placing a kiss on his soft lips, letting a few tears of happiness slip. This is what contentment felt like, to feel whole, be loved, and find that perfect person. 

“How do I live without you? How do I live without you, baby? How do I live?”

[danganronpasurvivoraskblog]

Souda and Mondo can you guys sing a small portion of the Paraka rap. Preferably the beginning.

Do you mean the Piraka rap?

♩ The gang on the loose Nothin' you can do The Beast on the move Bully comin' through Trigger, Tracer, Drifter comin' too Add The Snake that makes Piraka crew ♩

♩ The gang on the loose Nothin' you can do You can try, but why? You know you're gonna lose ♩

[tiredcowpoke]

TITLE: If We’re Dying PAIRING: Hosea Matthews/Gender Neutral Reader (Platonic) REQUEST: Unprompted. BLURB: After many years, a familiar face appears in a crowd. WARNINGS: Not much. Some mentions of violence, but it’s mostly just bittersweet.  NOTE: This is a late night self-indulgent thing, so I’m sorry if there are mistakes. I also wanted to try my hand at writing Hosea solo, so here we are.  

You could feel your heart sitting in your throat as you brushed a hand alongside the neck of your trusted horse. 

This was it. You had been found and all night you just kept playing out the idea of that bullet in your back when you exited out into the alleyway after the show. A part of you wanted to laugh--you saw so many faces come and go throughout the nights, so many conversations and words exchanged that didn’t really stand out. Yet, your eyes had connected, and you recognized him. More importantly, he recognized you. Even with the curious glance he had been giving your whole display, the look of realization that crossed his expression when your gazes met had been haunting you all night. 

The little crowded tent had given you enough safety by being in public, shuffling around in the crowd to make your goodbyes. You had been cast the odd look at your behavior, usually not one to scurry off after a show but you knew you needed to leave. 

Yet, as you had made your hurried steps toward your horse, you knew it wouldn’t be any use. He knew you were town, he would just find you another time. 

So, that was how you ended up just standing near your horse, petting his neck distractedly as you caught sight of someone slipping out of the tent and making his way toward you. 

“You seem to be in quite the hurry,” he called out after a moment, the familiarity of his voice hitting you hard in the chest as you took in a steadying breath, “You usually his hard to talk to after a show?” 

“I…” you started, pausing before you glanced toward him, “I guess thinking you saw a ghost kind of does that to a person.” 

He let out a somewhat wheezy laugh--that was new. 

“Guess I weren’t thinkin’ we was all dead to you, then.” 

“You’re not…” you replied around a sigh, “Though, with the lives you lead, it can be hard to tell.” 

“Well, we know that better than anybody.” 

Hosea Matthews had changed greatly since the last time you saw him, though you supposed he must have been making the same observation about you. He looked...older, more tired. His hair was now grey, he seemed a little thinner around the face as he stepped closer toward you in the light. 

The mere sight of him before had almost sent you into flight, yet the expression that sat on his face currently was kind. 

You had been expecting some harshness--you had felt like a traitor for years, having to up and leave in the middle of the night all those years ago. You had been expecting a bullet. You were a loose end, and yet Hosea just seemed confused as he seemed to catch on to the tension you were trying to hold back. 

“I know what you did all them years ago--it’s in the past. I ain’t gonna hurt you,” he stated with some sincerity, the words making you pull your brows together in some confusion. Yet, there was a touch of relief that started to seep into your chest. 

“...Well, maybe you have more capability for forgiveness than I had been thinking,” you replied, crossing your arms. 

“Can’t say it didn’t hurt,” he replied, letting out a small huff, “Can’t say it didn’t piss me off, neither, but...I got over it, started to understand it. I can’t say the same for some of the others, but…” 

“I hadn’t been expecting that whole thing to go over well,” you explained, “Still don’t. Though...guess I appreciate you not shooting me in front of my horse.” 

“Well, then, maybe you’d be willin’ to humor an old man and tell me what you’ve been doin’ all these years?” 

                                                              ***

Your little home wasn’t too far away from the town, you and Hosea sharing some chatter as you rode up there as the sun started to set further. He told you a little bit about the gang once you both had been further away from the streets and out toward the trails--Dutch, Arthur, and John were still around. Unsurprising. However, it had gotten bigger, from the way he had been telling it, giving you some names you didn’t remember. 

It was almost surreal, him being there. 

All those years ago, you hadn’t said any goodbyes. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to, no, but rather you didn’t want to chance the idea of being talked into staying. Forced to. You had been good to cover your tracks, and eventually the paranoia about being found had faded off once you had a couple months between you and the gang. Until the current night, that is. 

You eventually hitched your horse outside of your current home--it wasn’t much, four walls and a roof with a bed and stove. 

“I’ve been trying to save up,” you explained somewhat sheepishly, “Get out of here, but it’s been a slow process.” 

“Ahh, it’s...quaint,” Hosea said, lowering himself down out of the saddle of his own horse. 

“You want something to eat? Drink?” you offered, stopping somewhat on the front step to glance back toward him. 

Hosea shook his head, waving a hand. “No, no. It’s fine, might offend Pearson with this new stew he’d been talkin’ about.” 

“Might offend him to know you’ve been fed by a traitor,” you muttered, only half serious. 

However, despite how jokingly you meant the statement, the expression on Hosea’s face was too serious to make you think he caught onto that. He paused, crossing his arms as he leaned back against one of the railings on your porch. 

“Is that how you’ve been seein’ yourself?” he asked, causing you to stare at him for a moment before you shrugged lightly. You decided to forgo inviting him inside, instead moving to sit down in one of the chairs on the porch with a small sigh. 

“I dunno, it’s been a running thought since I left.” 

“You didn’t sell us out, despite knowin’ where we were,” Hosea replied, shifting to come sit down beside you, “I’d heard that worry once or twice, but nothin’ ever came.” 

“I had no plans to,” you replied, “Just...guess I always had Dutch’s loyalty speeches stuck in my head.” 

Hosea let out a small hum, letting that linger for a moment before he seemed to lean back in the chair, making himself a little more comfortable. 

“So, you gonna tell me why you’ve been spendin’ your nights in that tent?” he asked, glancing toward you as you let out a small chuckle. 

“I’m an entertainer,” you said, spreading your arms out slightly before letting them rest in your lap as you leaned back in your own chair. 

“You always was.” 

“I spent a good couple years on the streets,” you said, “Started with little skits, songs and dance. Some poor fools would take pity, toss some money my way but it wasn’t never enough. I decided to start some magic tricks again, that got more interest. Some people picked me up after a couple years, I’ve been in and out of tents since but this one has been the longest running one in town.” 

“You seemed happy to be doing that--at least until you noticed me,” Hosea replied, causing you to glance toward him again. 

“It pays, and I’ve always enjoyed doing things like that.”

“Yeah...you and Trelawny were always a bit of a force to be reckoned with when he’d stay at camp,” Hosea replied around a small laugh, pulling a grin on your face as the small memories. 

They were faded at the edges, the details lacking but you could still feel the closeness and companionship that camp brought. After being alone for most of your life prior, it had been something you had cherished and yet…

You didn’t really get to think on that too much, Hosea’s laughter dissolving into some rather concerning coughs. Concerned, you reached out to touch his shoulder. He let it subside, glancing back toward you with a somewhat tight smile as you removed your hand. 

“I don’t remember that cough,” you commented, Hosea letting out a small sigh before he shrugged. 

“We’re all dyin’ at some point, you know that,” he said, “My time’s comin’ a little quicker than expected, but…” 

“...I’m sorry.” 

“Ahh,” he returned with a light wave of his hand, “I’m still kickin’, so it’s nothin’ to worry about.” 

“When have you ever stopped?” you replied around a somewhat tight chuckle. 

“Not once, probably. All the more reason to believe me.” 

“Sure…”

You let that conversation hang somewhat, lowering your gaze toward your hands. As much as things had changed, he was still the same. It was comforting to know, it made you wonder about the others. It put a warm feeling in your chest. 

“I missed you,” you said after a moment. 

“Missed you too, kid,” Hosea said, placing his hand on your knee as he did so. “You could always...well.” 

A chuckle spilled from your lips as you raised your head to look at him again, shaking your head. “Even if it was just for a night, you know going back to camp wouldn’t be as pleasant as this.” 

“Yeah, guess I was thinkin’ on different times,” he replied, pulling his hand back to meet your gaze, “Why’d you leave? I pieced together what I could, but…” 

Ah, that was the question you were dreading. Yet, you had a feeling he already knew the answer. That life he led, the one they were all currently in? You just weren’t cut out for it. You knew you could still see some of the bodies and faces in your sleep sometimes, the thought making you glance away and out toward the trees as you lightly shook your head. 

“I couldn’t take it, I guess…” you said, letting out a small sigh, “I appreciated Dutch picking me up off the streets like he did, and I don’t doubt I would be on this path without the help you and him had given me, but...I’m not an outlaw. I couldn’t kill, couldn’t rob. I’d come to face with someone and the words would die out, I’d freeze up. I knew it was causing issues, made me risky to take on jobs, and I couldn’t just...hang around camp for the rest of my life. That wasn’t a life for me, I had to get out. I guess I was just expecting to be talked into staying if I brought it up.” 

“I guess…” Hosea said around a sigh, “I saw it, too. Couple of times.”

“It was a hard decision, I struggled with it a lot, but...I just had to.” 

“Hey, I already understand,” Hosea said around an almost bitter huff, “Things now...they ain’t great. Think...well, I think I would’ve blamed you for thinkin’ about gettin’ out if you was still with us.” 

There was a part of you that wanted to ask what was going on and yet--well, you knew you didn’t want to know. To worry. Yet…

“...Are you safe?”

“For now, yes,” Hosea said with a nod, dropping his gaze as he let out a small sigh through his nose, “Can’t say we always will be, though. Never had been, but it’s more apparent now than ever.” 

“I…” 

“Ain’t your concern,” Hosea said, placing a hand on your shoulder before he stood somewhat shakily. He glanced out toward the trees, the faint glow of the sun disappearing behind them as he let out a small sigh. 

“Hosea…” you started, rising to your feet, “You--you always were like a father to me. Probably the only one I’ve ever known.” 

“I know,” he said, turning to face you after he had stepped back down from the front steps of the porch, “I’ve been thinkin’ about you, too, these years. Guess...well, if we’re dyin’, I’m glad I got to see you again after everythin’.” 

“Me too,” you said around that tight feeling in your chest, “I love you, always have.” 

“Now that’s a poor decision right there, but I love you too. I’m...I’m proud of what you’re doin’. May have not understood your reasonin’ in the beginnin’, but I’m relieved you’re doin’ this.” 

“Yeah…” 

“I ain’t gonna tell the others you’re out here, either,” Hosea said, seeming to catch the question as it started to enter your head, pulling a small grin from you. “Can’t stop them from runnin’ into you like I did, but…” 

“I’ll handle that if it comes to it,” you said with a nod, “Thank you, Hosea. For everything.” 

You stood outside your home as you watched him get on his horse again, giving him a nod and wave as he tipped his hat at you. He lingered a moment before turning his horse and heading back down the way he had rode up with you, leaving you to watch as the man you thought of as a father disappeared down the trail. 

It was hard to watch, feeling your throat tighten as you took in a couple slow breaths. Yet, much as the goodbye was hard, you knew something had been lifted. 

That ache in your chest seemed to finally fall off, one that had been there for years.

[myblueeyedbuggers]

My Boys

Chapter 10

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14

Pairings: Reader x Steve Rogers (best friend) Reader x Bucky Barnes

Word Count:1843

Warnings: Slow Start, Language.

Summary: After being abandoned by her parents in Brooklyn in 1929, y/n makes a living for herself by working for the Црни лабуд gang until she meets two boys in a back alley and her life slowing begins to change.

Annnddd I’m back! so I know it’s been a while since the last update and I just wanna thank you all for having patience with me while I finished up with college, just a warning this chapter may feel a little awkward to read due to me just getting back into my writing mind so apologises in advance for this one. Anyways I’ll quit blabbering, Enjoy everyone! :)

This was my day of reckoning, my punishment for all the bad deeds I’d done over the past couple of years…I was finally being sent to school. Okay maybe that was a tad dramatic, but can you blame me? I mean who wants to be trapped in a building against their will for 7 hours straight learning about dead guys?! No sane person would willingly agree to that crap!

I’ve tried just about everything to avoid my approaching doom, hell I even went as far as hiding in the basement surrounded by cobwebs to try and get out of this, but as per usual neither Steve or Bucky took mercy on me, hence why in currently trapped between the two. “You are aware I’m perfectly capable of walkin’ by myself aren’t ya? The looping of the arms is not needed boys” I swear down these two are being more annoying than usual, and I didn’t think that was humanly possible cause these two are basically the living embodiment of annoyance. Steve turned and raised his eyebrows at me, shaking his head as he let out a small laugh, “Yeah there’s absolutely no way I’m fallin’ for that again, last time that happened it look me and Buck an hour to get you outta that tree”. Ah crap there goes that plan.

I’m pretty sure the noise I made wasn’t even human, it was a mix between a seal and a possessed monkey “I’m not gonna get outta this am I?” “Nope” and que another frustrated groan. “Is this payback for the time I placed that bucket of flour above your bedroom door and watched the both of you turn into ghosts? If it is then I want you to know I regret nothin’” both of them stopped and glared at me, for some reason they didn’t find that as funny as I did, and I have no idea why. Okay whatever you do y/n don’t laugh, even if Steve’s face looks like a slapped arse don’t laugh! A snicker slipped past my lips and a few seconds later I was full on laughin’.  Goddamn it.

Both of em just let out a bunch of sighs and started draggin’ my butt along the street, wait there’s somethin’ I haven’t tried yet…in hindsight this is completely stupid but screw it. “OH MY GOD LOOK A SPACESHIP!” I’m pretty sure poor Bucky jumped outta his skin, Steve ended up trippin’ up and falling down, I’ll admit that I felt bad about but hey may plan worked! So why am I still standin’ there?… maybe we try this thing called running y/n! I quickly pulled my arm away from Bucky and used my new-found freedom to run in the opposite direction of them, I could hear the shouts of protest from the both of them, so I decided to kindly ignore them and absolutely leg it.  “GODAMMN IT Y/N! THIS IS THE FIFTH TIME THIS MORNIN’!” when were the boys gonna catch on that I didn’t wanna go? Do I need to prepare a firework show and blast it in their faces or somethin’…probably.  

I know I probably shouldn’t be smiling, but the feeling of the wind flowing through my hair as my feet hit the ground made me feel free, after so many years I could finally begin acting my age and enjoy my childhood. I finally felt content with my life, which is probably the opposite of what I should be feeling at this moment in time, considering I was currently making my grand escape. And to completely honest I’ve got no bloody clue as to where I am. I glanced behind me to see where the hell those idiots were, to my surprise Steve was directly behind me, Buck was somewhere in the back holdin’ his knee and I’m guessing the daft sod decked it. Why am I not surprised? Okay maybe I should of kept my mouth shut cause literally a second later my foot tripped over a rock and, you guessed correctly, I landed on my ass for the thousandth time!

“Sh*t! Cr*p! B*lls! That f**king hurt!” and that ladies and gentlemen is my fine command of the queens English, a groan of pain made me loose my train of thought as I turned my head to Steve, to put it simply he was laid flat on his back with his eye closed. Well there’s the rush of guilt I’ve been waiting for, “Sh*t Steve I’m sorry, you okay down there tough guy?” I quickly offered him my hand to help him up, I mean it’s the least I could do. Steve’s hand grabbed mine, a not so quiet grunt of pain made me feel even worse, quick question why am I such an assh*le at times? “Yeah, I’m fine y/n, don’t worry about it you know for a fact I’ve had worse” a quiet sigh left my lips as I brought him in for a hug, which was a tiny bit awkward due to the height difference. Once we pulled away from each other, I couldn’t supress the need to check him for anymore injuries, much to Steve’s embarrassment and Bucky’s amusement, “Jesus I’m gonna have to start wrapping ya up in blankets and pillows, Steve how the hell did you manage to get a bruise on your ear?!”

The sudden gasp behind me pretty much answered the question for me, it’s safe to say barney boy is in trouble…for the first in my life Bucky looks pretty f**king terrified of me, perfect. Slowly I started inching towards him, the glare I was sending him would probably make a demon cry for his mum…so yeah imma go kill the boy. I didn’t even have to say anything, he just started runnin’, “IT’S NOT MY FAULT HE STOLE MY FR**KING PUDDIN’ AND THE PUNK KNOWS I LOVE MY PUDDIN!’” YEP DEFINITELY KILLIN’ HIM “HE IS A SMALL AND GENTLE BOY HOW IN THE NAME OF HELL CAN YOU EVEN THINK OF LAYIN’ A HAND ON ‘IM?!” god this sounds like a bleeding soap opera.

 At this point I wouldn’t be surprised of someone called the cops on us, all everyone woulda seen was a big lad runnin’ for his life as a small lass tried to murder him while a smaller lad ran after the pair yellin’ for em to quit it.  Now that I think about, that’s actually hilarious. Wait, where was I? ah yes the murdering of one James Barnes…okay that is not a normal sentence I am aware. “HE.STOLE.MY.PUDDIN’! THAT A CRIME WORTHY OF DEATH!” oh for f**ksake “HOW THE HELL DO YA KNOW IT WAS HIM?! DID YOU NOT THINK IT COULDA BE BECCA?!” I think he made a sudden realisation, cause the dumbass stopped running and BOOM I was on the freakin’ floor. Again. We both groaned, mine was mostly in annoyance more than anything, but seriously the bloody floor is quickly becoming me best mate! “…. It just dawned on me that that could be a possibility…” if my neck twisted any quicker I’m 100% sure that I’d end up doin’ that weird owl thing “Oh now you realise?! Ya gonna say sorry to Steve or not?” a few seconds of silence gave me my answer. “Don’t give me that look y/n! I ain’t doing s**t till I’ve got some evidence so he’s still under my list of suspects!” oh my Jesus Christ this is gonna be the day I get arrested for murder isn’t it?

“Barnaby…you have exactly five seconds to run for your life so I highly recommend you get your affairs in order and kiss ya ass goodbye” oh hey look at that I didn’t yell at him! Well done me I’m so proud! “could you two quit trying to kill each other for 5 minutes?! We’re already late enough as is it and I ain’t explainin’ to the teacher why Buck’s outta it on the floor!” my f**kin god Steve just yelled! At me! why do I never have a camera when this s**t happens?  “Jeez, alright I’ll murder him later, calm your damn t*ts Rogers” and cue the sound of barely contained frustration in 3,2,1….

“I’m beginning to get the feelin’ that you don’t like me y/n” oh really? I wonder what gave that away “wow you catch on quickly don’t ya Barnaby?” by the looks of things I’m really doing wonders for his ego, buck’s head looks like it’s gotten smaller so the risk of him turning into a hot air balloon’s gone down. The feeling of a pair of eyes glaring at the back of my head once again reminded me that the blonde boy was quickly getting tired of our crap, my worst fears were confirmed once I met Steve’s surprisingly intimidating glare…how he manages to be both adorable and beyond f**king terrifying is a mystery to me. “Okay I’m comin’ just stop staring at me like I just murdered your kitten!” and the little s**t has the nerve to smirk and look pleased with himself, ugh he’s been hanging ‘round me and Bucky too long that’s for sure.

“Ya know Buck and you are gonna be the death of me” right do I be offended or pleased with that statement? “actually, if anything it’s gonna be the pair of you that send me to an early grave cause god knows the both of ya don’t know how to stay outta trouble” two muffled sounds of protest came from my left and from behind me, “what’s that supposed to mean?!” once again the point has been missed “do you really wanna know the answer to that? I’ve got my report and presentation ready on how you two are a pair of numpties”.

Maybe that was a tad harsh…okay wait never mind it seems I’ve learned how to fly again with the assistance of one James Buchannan Barnes. “this is coming from the girl who can’t walk five feet without fallin’ over somethin’?” as much as I hate to admit it the walking embodiment of frustration and annoyance has a point “what you call fallin’ I call floor hugs, now how about you pUT ME DOWN FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!” wait when did Steve walk off? See this is what happens when an overgrown ape demands attention. I don’t even have to look at Buck to know he’s givin’ me that look that says, “what the hell?” and “I’m not surprised by this” at the same time, “Nah I don’t think that’s gonna happen doll” the temptation to kick ‘im where the sun doesn’t shine is too much to bare for me at this point. “And you wonder why I love Steve more that you” Buck’s face kinda looked like someone just shoved a whole lemon in his mouth, I’m almost certain that he woulda dropped me on my ass if it wasn’t for the fact that Steve came over and dragged us both through the gates of hell.

This is gonna be so much fun!……said no-one ever.  

Okay…maybe it didn’t suck as much a thought it did, hopefully my skills as a writer will come back for the next couple of chapters XD Thanks for reading ! :)

Rose xxx

[verai-marcel]

Can we get a fic where some of the gang members including the f!reader go out drinking and Arthur gets loose and ends up sleeping w/ the reader, letting his feral out a bit? Love your writing >:)

Hidden Desires (RDR2 Fanfic, LH Arthur x F!Reader, 18+)

Summary: After a night of drinking, Arthur loses his self-control when you give him the opportunity to give into his hidden desires.

Author’s Notes: A lovely request from anon, oh yes. And since you didn’t pick an honor, we’ll get down and dirty with low honor Arthur!

Tags: shameless smut, low honor Arthur, Arthur x female!reader, rough sex, doggy style, light D/s tones, virgin reader, dirty talk

AO3 Link is here!

——————–

“C’mon, let’s go!”

Lenny shook his head. “I’m gonna pass. I had enough of drinkin’ for now.”

Javier shrugged. “Alright. Anyone else coming with me and Arthur?”

You laughed softly, recalling how Arthur had come back a few nights ago, drunk as a skunk, yelling something about never being taken alive and being an American before passing out in a field nearby. You had let him be, but had quietly waited nearby for him to wake up, keeping an eye out for wolves or coyotes. Ever since you had joined the gang, you had taken it upon yourself to take care of the gruff outlaw, knowing that deep down, he had a soft heart.

“I’ll go,” Charles said, walking towards the two other men.

Glancing around, you noticed that no one else seemed to want to go. “I’ll go too,” you finally said. “If only to make sure you boys get home safe.”

“We’ll be fine, that’s what Arthur’s for,” Javier said, jabbing a thumb in Arthur’s direction. “He’s learned his lesson, right?”

Arthur just shrugged.

Shaking your head, you followed the three men to their horses.

“Wait, what about me?”

The four of you turned to see Sean, jogging closer.

“Did ya t’ink you’d be able to go fer a pint wit’out invitin’ me?”

Arthur just sighed.

“The more the merrier,” Javier said, although you could tell he said it with a bit of reluctance.

“Well t’en, let’s get goin’!” Sean said jovially.

It was going to be a long night.

***

You had made the wise decision to only have 2 beers, slowly sipping your drinks to trick the boys into thinking you were drinking more than you actually had. In the same amount of time, they had drunk enough to stumble around the saloon, chatting up anyone and everyone. Well, Sean was, at least. Javier and Charles were trying to woo some ladies, while Arthur tried to keep up with Sean’s conversation.

Meanwhile, you stood at the bar, finishing your second and final beer. You smiled as Arthur stumbled over to you, leaving Sean to fend for himself.

“Had enough of Sean’s tall tales?” you asked, a teasing lilt to your voice.

Arthur grinned at you, leaning against the bar, tilting his head towards you. “More than enough for a whole lifetime.” He took a step closer to you, one hand sliding around your waist.

You blinked in surprise. Arthur had never been so close and touchy with you before. The warmth of his hand sparked a fire in you, the touch of his hand as his fingers caressed your hip making your heart beat faster. 

“Why, Mr. Morgan, you’re being awfully forward tonight,” you teased. 

“They don’t call it liquid courage for nothin’,” he joked. “Been wantin’ to talk wit'chu fer a long time, princess.”

His eyes said he wanted to do more than talk. 

Feeling bold, you moved closer to him. Leaning over to whisper in his ear, you grazed your lips against his earlobe. “Why don’t we talk somewhere more… private?" 

Arthur turned his head just enough that you felt his stubble against your cheek as he replied, "Whatever you’d like, my lady.”

***

You wasted no time getting a room and, holding Arthur by the hand, leading him upstairs to one of the farther rooms away from the saloon.

The second you were both inside, he slammed you against the door, rubbing his body against yours. His deep moan as he pressed his hard length against you vibrated through your body, and you responded in kind with a moan of your own.

“Arthur,” you keened, begging for more, your hands unbuttoning his shirt.

He kissed you as he fumbled at your buttons, the two of you almost comically rushing to remove each other’s clothing as inhibitions just careened out the window at record speed. His tongue invaded your mouth, exploring you, conquering you as he got your blouse open and then pulled your chemise down just enough to free your breasts. He grabbed them and squeezed, moaning as he dry humped you against the door.

Your hands made quick work of his buttons, exposing his wide chest to the air. Splaying your hands across his hard muscles, you ran your hands down his body, all the way down to his belt. Undoing the buckle, you felt him pull away.

Watching as he took his gun belt off and set it on a table, he tore off the rest of his clothes, quickly kicking off his boots until he was naked, his cock hard and ready for you.

“What’re you waitin’ fer, princess?” he asked, seeing that you had not moved from your place against the door. “Take’em off.”

You sauntered past him, letting your blouse and chemise flutter to the ground as you peeled them off one by one. Just as you reached the bed, prepared to unbutton your skirt, he suddenly came up behind you and shoved you onto the bed. Falling onto your stomach, your legs hanging off the side, you lifted yourself up only to suddenly be pushed down, Arthur’s hand on your neck, holding you in place. His other hand lifted up your skirt, flinging it upwards to reveal your cotton drawers.

“Get these damn things outta my way,” he growled.

You reached down, pulling your drawers off as best you could while being held down by Arthur’s powerful grip. You got them halfway down your legs before you couldn’t reach any further, and you started wiggling your legs to get them the rest of the way off.

Arthur smacked your bare ass.

“Ow!”

“Stop wigglin’.” He let go of your neck, grabbed your drawers, and pulled them off. Grabbing your hips, he pulled you closer to him, your lower half hanging off the bed. Stepping between your legs, Arthur ran a finger between your nether lips.

“So wet. This fer me, darlin’?”

“Only for you, Arthur.”

“You sure know the right things to say.”

You felt Arthur’s cock nudge your opening.

“Say you want it.”

“Please Arthur, I want it.”

“Want what, princess?”

“Your cock, I want your cock!”

Arthur chuckled as he slowly pushed himself inside of you, the sweet burn of his girth etched forever into your memory. His low groan as he made his way fully inside of you was erotically charged, his breath coming out in one slow, shudder when he hilted. “Fuck,” he muttered. “So tight, like you…”

He trailed off.

Then he grabbed your hair and pulled your head back.

“Am I yer first?” he asked quietly.

You didn’t respond.

Arthur bent over you, his chest pressing against your back. His lips grazed the shell of your ear as he gripped your hair harder and snarled. “Answer me, girl.”

“Yes,” you hissed back.

He suddenly let go of your hair and stood up straight, grabbing your hips. “Then I’ll make sure I’m your only one.”

He pulled out slowly, and re-entered you with such an unhurried pace that you squirmed. Spanking your ass hard, he then stroked your reddened skin when you whimpered.

“You behave now,” he murmured. “I’ll be good to ya.”

His thrusts started to speed up, his hands stroking you, pulling your hair, until he bent over you again and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, holding you tight.

You felt a tightening in your core, a spring being wound up to the point of breaking.

Arthur suddenly stopped and pulled away from you.

Crying out in loss, you barely had time to breathe before he flipped you onto your back and grabbed your legs, resting them on his shoulders as he pushed into you impatiently. He grabbed your breasts again, squeezing them, teasing your nipples between his thumb and finger while he fucked you. Staring down at you, an arrogant smirk on his face, he gripped your jaw. 

“Beg me to fuck you, princess.”

“Fuck me, please, Arthur, I need you to fuck me!”

Arthur’s grin widened as he reached down and stroked your clit. You started to tremble, your legs tensing against his shoulders, your hips lifting of their own accord as you were brought higher and higher to the peak.

With one hand, he lifted your ass up to change the angle as he rutted harder into you, while he rubbed your clit faster. His eyes darkened with lust as he watched you writhe below him.

“That’s it, be a good girl and let go fer me.”

Reaching out to grip his arms, you cried out, coming hard around his cock as he continued to pound into you. Digging your nails into his skin, you spasmed uncontrollably in his grasp until you finally came down from your ecstatic high and slumped on the bed, catching your breath.

“My turn,” Arthur said before he stepped away from you and sat down on the edge of the bed. He reached over and picked you up, settling you on his lap, facing away from him, your legs between his. His cock rubbed against your bottom, sliding between your buttocks. “Ride my cock until I’m done.”

You lifted yourself up and lowered yourself onto his thick shaft, your pussy still sore and sensitive from his thorough fucking. Slowly riding him, you looked behind you to see his eyes riveted on your behind.

“Like what you see?” you asked teasingly.

“Been wanting this fer so long,” he mumbled. He grabbed your ass and squeezed. “So beautiful. How can you be so damn perfect?”

You rode him harder, turned on by his complete infatuation with you. He couldn’t keep his hands off your ass while you bounced up and down on his length. He leaned in close to kiss your shoulder and stare down at your gorgeous rear, taking his cock with an eagerness that drove him wild.

“Fuck,” he uttered. “Stand up and bend over, princess.”

You did as he commanded and felt him stand up behind you, humping the crevasse of your ass until he moaned your name and you felt his spend spilling onto the small of your back.

He collapsed back down onto the bed, his arms spread out. You laughed at the sight of him, exhausted and sated. You lay down next to him and snuggled into his side.

“G’night Arthur,” you whispered.

You were answered by gentle snoring.

***

“What the…?”

You awoke to Arthur staring at you, his eyes blinking in disbelief.

“Yes?” you asked him politely, despite the fact that you were both naked. You both had fallen asleep on top of the covers.

“Did we…?” He gestured at you and himself.

“It was wonderful.”

Arthur was shocked for a moment, then regained himself. “Yes.” He cupped your cheek. “I thought… I thought it might have been a dream.”

You smiled at him. “No dream, Arthur. It was real. I only hope you remember what you told me.”

“Uh… of course.” He blinked and looked away for a split second.

You arched an eyebrow at him.

He sighed. “No, I don’t remember.”

“You said you were going to make sure you were my only one.”

Arthur nodded. “Well. Sounds like something I’d say.” He rolled over on top of you, and pumped his hips so you felt how hard he was at this moment. “Better make sure then.”

As he spread your legs and entered you once more, you felt like you had won the world.

——————-

End Notes: Really felt good to write so freely, just giving into what the scene looked like in my head and not worrying about plot. Thanks for the request anon, hope you enjoyed this little romp with Arthur!

[hysterialevi]

His Name Was Isaac - Ch. 6

Fanfic summary: During a mission to avenge his mother’s death, Isaac hunts down the men responsible for her murder and kills them off one-by-one, only to discover that his last target is taking refuge among the Van der Linde gang. In an attempt to kill them, Isaac attacks the gang and unknowingly becomes enemies with his own father, who is in the process of fighting his own battle for redemption.

Point of view: third-person

Author’s note: This part’s a bit shorter than the others, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. Thank you for all your support so far :)

Previous chapter | Next chapter

This story is also on AO3

THAT NIGHT

BLACKWATER SALOON

Storming up the wooden staircase, Micah quickly breezed through the other customers scattered around the saloon as he made his way to the young man, ready to beat some answers out of him.

According to the bartender, the man was still in Blackwater and hadn’t taken his leave yet, so Micah decided he’d pay the boy a visit after all the hell that broke loose at the bank.

He knew that the boy would cause some type of damage -- he didn’t seem to be on good terms with the Van der Lindes, after all -- but Micah never expected the kid to cause this much chaos.

Thanks to him, one of their men was dead, the Pinkertons were after them, their supplies had been destroyed, and on top of all that, Dutch was now on high alert for any traitors within the gang.

Micah had no idea if the boy was trying to get them arrested by the law, or just kill the whole lot of them by himself, but he planned on getting an explanation tonight.

And he wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“Hey!” Micah called out, pounding a fist on the door. “I know you’re in there, princess. You and I need to have a chat.”

Waiting for a response, Micah heard nothing but the muffled sound of someone pacing around the room for a moment, leading him to believe that the boy was either trying to escape or find something to defend himself.

Micah knocked again. “Hey, cowpoke! Open up! Don’t make me break in there.”

This time, a voice replied.

“Gimme a damn minute!”

After a while of waiting, the door finally creaked open to a slit and revealed nothing more than the protruding barrel of a pistol, causing Micah to let out an amused laugh at the hostile greeting.

“...You really is the suspicious type, ain’t you?” He teased.

Isaac didn’t budge. “I prefer the word ‘cautious.”

Micah leaned forward, speaking to the young man in a patronizing voice. “Well, whatever you wanna call it, I’d suggest openin’ this goddamn door right now. ‘Cause otherwise, I might just kick my way in there and give you a beating after that shit you pulled at the camp...!”

The young man scoffed. “I may be suspicious, but at least I ain’t stupid. You really wanna threaten someone who has a gun on you?”

Micah chuckled darkly. “A gun won’t do you no favors when we’re this deep in civilization, boy. You shoot me, and the law’ll be on top of you within minutes. I think I’ll be just fine.”

Isaac widened the gap slightly, allowing the other man to see him more clearly through the door.

“So why did you come here, then? You don’t exactly look like you’re here for a talk.”

Micah leaned against the wall, grinning slyly. “On the contrary, I came here for answers. It’s clear to me now that I underestimated you before, but after all the help I’ve given, I’d say an explanation is due.”

Isaac paused for a minute, contemplating whether to let Micah in or not.

“...Fine.” He settled with. “But I’ll keep my gun handy, if you don’t mind. You don’t exactly radiate with trust.”

Micah smirked at that. “Well, ain’t you a gentleman.”

Letting the other man walk in, Isaac quickly shut the door once Micah was through the entryway and lowered his voice, wanting to avoid the attention of unknown listeners.

It didn’t look like anyone else had followed Micah into the saloon, but purely based on the man’s sour mood alone, Isaac assumed the gang might’ve wanted revenge after everything he’d done.

He’d have to tread carefully from here on out.

“So,” Isaac began, sliding his pistol back into its holster, “what did you wanna ask me?”

Micah took a seat on one of the chairs and lit a cigarette, allowing himself to get comfortable.

“Well, for starters...” he let out a puff of smoke, “...why don’t you tell me your name, boy? Seems only fair, seein’ as how you know mine.”

The young man crossed his arms, admittedly reluctant to share it.

“...Isaac.”

“Isaac?” Micah repeated, dangling the cigarette from between his fingers. “That’s a good name. A strong name. I actually ran with a fella named Isaac many years ago. Sadly, the poor bastard couldn’t live up to it. He was a clumsy drunk. Only in it for the money. But you...”

The outlaw rose from his chair, pointing a finger at the boy. “...You’re smarter than you look, ain’t you? Not many people could’ve snuck into our camp the way you did. But damn, did you take us by surprise.”

Isaac gave him a puzzled look. “How d’you mean?”

“Joe and Cleet never saw you coming,” Micah explained. “They were certain that no one had tampered with our supplies while we was robbin’ the bank, and the encounter with the Pinkertons didn’t exactly help matters neither. Funny how they managed to corner us on the same day of our robbery.”

Micah narrowed his eyes at Isaac. “It’s almost like... someone told them what would happen.”

The boy shrugged. “You gave me the information.”

“All I told you was that we had plans for a robbery,” the older man corrected, his tone more stern now. “I never mentioned nothin’ about a bank. How the hell did you know?”

Isaac gestured loosely to the town around them. “What else is their to rob around these parts? I assumed you weren’t gonna rustle livestock.”

Micah sighed in frustration. “Well, whatever you was plannin’ with that Pinkerton ambush, it nearly got us all killed. Dutch had to take a woman hostage just to get us outta there. And when we got back to camp, poor old Cleet ended up chokin’ on his food. The rest of us probably woulda dropped too if he didn’t go down first.”

That caught the young man’s attention. “The poison worked? Who else did it kill?”

“Nobody.” Micah answered. “Cleet’s the only one.”

Isaac was visibly disappointed at the news. “So Mackintosh is still alive, then.” He pounded a fist on the desk’s surface. “Dammit...!”

Micah perked his head up in interest upon hearing that, causing him to pause mid-action.

“Wait, that’s who you’re after? Shay Mackintosh?” He chuckled at the realization, suddenly understanding why the young man was here. “I see now... you’re tryin’ to eliminate the rest of us, so you can reach little ol’ Shay. Not a bad plan, except for one tiny flaw...”

Isaac let out a bored breath. “...What?”

“Well, you did just poison our food. And destroy our supplies. And steal our money. And break our weapons. I just fail to understand how you expect me to give you information... when I’m starvin’ to death.”

The boy didn’t seem to concerned with the idea. “Simple. You give me what I need, and I’ll pay you back the money I stole. Bit by bit.”

Micah laid a hand on the grip of his revolver. “Or... I could just kill you now, and take it all.”

“You’d never know where to find it.” Isaac countered.

“You don’t have the money on you?”

“Of course not. You think I didn’t expect you to come stompin’ back over here after I took everything you own? Keepin’ that much money on me would’ve been a death sentence.”

Micah backed down from the argument and grumpily conceded Isaac’s point, clearly not too happy with where he’d ended up.  

Just a few days ago, he thought he finally had the opportunity to kick Arthur out of the picture and was planning to use Isaac as the weapon, only to now discover that the boy carried more experience than he initially thought.

If Micah had known that Isaac would actually be able to come through with his plans, he’d never have given him that much information. He figured the boy would’ve gotten killed somewhere along the way, but now, thanks to his own naivety, Isaac was hoarding all of their savings in some godforsaken armpit in West Elizabeth, and using that as a way to keep Micah on a leash.

He was trapped. And the only way out of this mess was through the very man who deceived him in the first place.

What a strange world they lived in.

“...Fine.” Micah grumbled. “What other information d’you need?”

Isaac glanced through the room’s window, making sure that nobody was listening in.

“Now that you’ve finished robbin’ the bank, I assume your gang’s gonna relocate?”

The outlaw nodded. “Yeah. Why?”

Isaac took out the map Micah drew for him, flipping it to the blank side. “I need to know how you’re plannin’ to get there. Just gimme a route, or a town, or anything that could point me in the right direction.”

Micah eyed the map suspiciously. “Shouldn’t you just be concerned with the location itself? Why d’you need to know how we’re gettin’ there?”

“Because that’s the only time your gang will be vulnerable.”

The outlaw paused for a second, piecing the puzzle together in his head. “...So you’re thinking of attacking us on the road, then. Is that it?”

Isaac took out a pencil for Micah. “Yes. The poison didn’t kill Mackintosh, so it looks like I’m gonna have to take a more head-on approach. No more hiding in the shadows or attacking from a distance. I need to confront him face-to-face.”

Micah shrugged in uncertainty. “You sure, princess? It ain’t gon’ be easy. Especially since the rest of the gang will be there, too.”

The boy practically shoved the pencil into his hands. “That’s why I need your information. Then I can decide how I’m gonna separate the lot of you.”

The older man gave in to the kid’s persistence. “Alright, alright. Don’t say I didn’t warn you, though.”

Taking a few minutes to scribble down another map, Micah roughly drew a clear line that carved its way through the Tall Trees region and down to Manzanita Post, curving back up to the Montana River just before the road hit Blackwater. 

“You’re takin’ the gang through Skinner Brother territory?” Isaac asked, noticing the direction of the route.

“We have to. Dutch wants to head back east in search of a cure for his illness.”

The young man rubbed his chin in thought, putting together a new plan in his head. 

“...That’d be a good spot to ambush the gang. There’s a lotta trees, and not that many places to escape. There’s also the fact that you have all them Skinner Brothers crawling around everywhere. It’d be easy to trap Dutch and his men.”

“Yeah, but it’d be easy for you to get stuck, too.”

Isaac’s mind wasn’t swayed. “I’m willin’ to risk it for this.”

“Fair enough.” Micah replied. “Just don’t come cryin’ to me when some crazy bastard’s got your hide roasting on a spit.”

Setting the pencil down, the outlaw finished his map before handing it to the boy, checking to see if he was satisfied with it.

“Is that everything you need?” He questioned flatly, evidently just wanting to go back to the camp.

Isaac thoroughly examined the piece of paper, his brow furrowed in concentration. 

“For now.”

Micah held a hand out. “And my payment?”

Glancing up from the map for a second, Isaac dug into his pockets and pulled out another eighteen dollars, slapping the wad of cash into Micah’s palm.

“There.”

The outlaw licked his finger and began counting the individual bills, stuffing the clump of money into his coat once he was finished.

“Thank you, kind sir. I think I’ll head home now. Good luck on concludin’ whatever business it is you have with Shay. Can’t imagine what he’s done to get you on his tail... but I won’t cry for him.”

Leaving Isaac to his own devices, Micah made a swift exit out of the room and began quietly descending the stairs, not wanting to alert any of the other customers in case the Van der Lindes were among them.

He assumed the rest of the gang would have questions about where he was getting these sudden bundles of cash, but their skepticism meant virtually nothing to him, seeing as how they were already on the verge of death anyways.

At this point, Micah wasn’t even sure if he was interested in leading the gang anymore. He supposed it’d be possible to try and rebuild from the ashes that Dutch left behind, but considering the sad state of their small group of degenerates, he’d be better off hightailing it on his own and making money elsewhere.

He just hoped he could get rid of Arthur before that happened. That man had been a thorn in Micah’s side for far too long, and he knew as well as anybody that they’d never see eye-to-eye on anything. 

His only chance right now was to get Morgan out of the way, and then run off with whatever dwindling legacy Dutch left behind in his absence. 

Some may have called it cowardly, others may’ve called it rotten. All that mattered to Micah was that he made it out of this alive, and a whole lot richer.

It was the only thing he cared about these days, and the only thing that was holding him back.

Money.

[mrslackles]

The Right to Remain Silent

Summary: Beth's FBI. Rio's... not.

[A/N: This is an unfinished work that I scrapped but I’m posting because of this tag game. I rounded out writing three of the main parts of the first chapter that I already had mostly done so it would be readable, but like I said, it is most certainly unfinished; there are whole middle chunks missing that I never got around to writing.]

**

“Ruby, do you think there's any way back once you're a bad person?”

She can almost hear her best friend frown on the other end of the line.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, if you've crossed over, do you think it’s possible to find your way back?”

There’s silence for a moment. Then Ruby lets out a breath. 

“I… I guess it depends how far you went. How bad what you did is.”

“The worst.” She swallows. “The worst possible everything.”

**

One week earlier

**

Beth’s feeling really good about herself.

So good that she’s even considering buying everyone in the office coffee. She thinks she’ll drink hers here, though. At least her first cup. She’s still high off yesterday’s bust and she doesn’t need the humdrum of today spoiling it just yet.

The barista smiles at her, catching her eye, then winks and goes ahead making her usual order.

“Lemme get that for you.”

Beth turns. There’s a guy beside her facing forward, his collar up, but he’s looking at her from the corner of his eye.

She smiles. “That’s not necessary.”

“Oh, but I wanna.”

“No, thank you,” she says more firmly, letting the smile go.

“Oh, c'mon darlin,” he says, voice smooth as honey. “How else’s a guy s’pposed to get a beautiful woman’s attention?”

This gets under her collar then seeps into her bones, sending a shiver down her back. Weird. Weird.

“Well, I'm married.”

She’s still trying to process this – a man hitting on her – when he suddenly turns to face her and, oh.

“Since when has that ever stopped anybody, Elizabeth?”

Her mouth falls open – at his appearance, at the tattoo, at him knowing her name – but he doesn’t give her the chance to speak.

“Sit down.”

There’s no room for arguing in his tone, face stony in an instant, and she follows him to a table with her heart fluttering in her throat. There’s a cat-like fluidity to the way he walks and she takes this in analytically before sitting, back straight.

She folds her hands into her lap, trying to shake off the surprise.

“What gang are you affiliated with?”

“Shit, first you don't want me to buy you a drink now you wanna take down my pants?”

There’s something about him – the lewdness? His smirk? The way he takes her in with gleaming eyes? – that unnerves her, but she tells herself it’s still just the shock letting it all get to her.

“How did you find me?”

He sits back in his seat, folding his hands; almost mocking her own posture.

“You raided a warehouse of mine yesterday.”

God. She clears her throat.

“You want your money back?”

She’d caught the line of his gun beneath his jacket; is slowly trying to survey the café to figure out if he’s alone.

“Naw. See, you asked how I found you,” he points at her.

“So then what do you want?”

Now he leans onto the table, steepling his fingers.

“Your hubby, he ain’t a real stand-up guy, huh?” He makes as if to give her a chance to speak then barrels right ahead. “Fucked around on you then getting himself into debt with some real rough guys.”

Breathe, Beth. Breathe.

“What are you talking about?”

He seems amused – he knows more than her and he’s relishing it.

“He been real flush lately?”

And she wants to say no instantly, but – he’d suddenly paid for the house after they’d been struggling to make the payment. He’d said he’d sold a car, but…

“You’re trying to bribe me,” she says, voice tinny.

“Nah,” he scoffs, laughing like she’s told a joke. “I’m tryna keep the limbs on all your loved ones. Y’know, they’re called loan sharks for a reason.”

Her hands are no longer folded, wringing each other.

“H-how are you going to do that?”

He shrugs cavalierly. “You need money, I got lots of it. We could be friends, and I like helping out my friends.”

He watches her, waiting, but she doesn’t react; doesn’t respond. She’s frozen, too stunned by this influx of information; this situation.

Not only had Dean torn their family apart, he’d also put them in danger? And she’d left her children with him to take this assignment; to get away. And now her babies could end up being collateral in more ways than just that one.

“Your hubby’s in the hole for ten grand,” he informs her, leaning over the table a little. “So I’m thinkin… a cool thirty gees?”

She stares.

“You’re going to pay me thirty thousand dollars for doing nothing?”

“Naw, darlin; nothin’s for nothin.”

“So what do you want?”

“Colleague of yours, an agent… Donnegan?” She nods and he continues: “Had a drug bust a week ago. My intel says the pills are still in your evidence room – I got a third party who’s real interested.”

“You’re insane.”

He grins, delighted, as if this is a compliment.

She shakes her head. “I can’t just take evidence, that’s not how things work!”

He shrugs. “Bat your lashes, sign it out for another ‘investigation’ – whatever it takes. I’m sure you’ll think of somethin.”

Before she can say anything – say whether she’s going to do it – he jumps up, kicking his chair back as he juts a thumb outward.

“That’s my boy, Mick.”

She follows his finger to see a tattooed man standing outside.

“He’s gonna take care of you. Make sure you got the details for the drop; that you all set up for payment.”

And then, with a quick squeeze of her shoulder, he’s gone.

**

She nearly growls when Dean’s voice finally crackles across the line, greeting cheery. 

“Hi, you.”

“Tell me right now and don’t lie to me: did you get money from loan sharks to pay for the house?”

There’s silence for far too long, loaded.

“Bethie, I was going to tell you—”

“Oh my god,” she sucks in a breath. 

“But, see, I knew you’d react that way!”

“Because you put our lives in danger! Do you know what those people do to the families of people who don’t pay them?”

“I know this all seems really scary, but it’s not as bad as it sounds.”

He’s always done that. She’s been a cop for years and he still makes it sound like she’s a little girl who isn’t capable of anything.

Even Bethie – she’s started hating how he’s always babied her name.

“What’s not as bad as it sounds, Dean?” she humours him.

“These aren’t the guys you’re used to, these are good guys.”

“They’re loan sharks.”

“No! Well… yeah. But they were really worried about our situation and so understanding when I couldn’t pay last month—”

“Oh my god, we’re already behind?”

“Beth. Bethie. I’m going to take care of it, ok?”

“No.”

She looks up from the floor to the evidence locker.

“I am.”

**

[Beth does the drop, gets paid then is forced into having dinner with Rio, after which he drives her to where she’s staying and invites himself inside]

Rio walks around, inspecting the place as she stands frozen by the entrance-way table.

“You have guys around?”

“I told you I was married.”

He turns back to meet her eyes.

“And I told you I know he's a dirtbag.”

“And that gives me permission to sleep around?”

His lip quirks up a little.

“Kinda does, yeah.”

“Well, I’m not that kind of person.”

“And what kinda person is that?”

“Vows mean something to me.”

“Like the one to serve and protect your country?”

And this jerks down her back, just like he wanted it to. He’s smirking and she’s driven forward, seething.

“So this is what you do? You recruit people, pay them, come and scope out their homes for when you need to intimidate them later?”

She wants to take him down a notch, wants to figure out how to get under his skin too, but he doesn’t seem bothered by her tone.

“Naw, house calls ain’t usually my thing.”

“So then what are you still doing here?”

He’s looking at her strangely, shoulders jerking as he comes closer.

“If you wanna know what I’m doing here, Elizabeth, you gotta stop thinking like a cop and start thinking like—”

“A criminal?” she snickers. “Quantico already taught me that lesson, but thanks.”

He smiles, eyes gleaming.

“…A woman.”

And now the shiver down her back is different – but it’s half anger. Is this why he’s here; is that why her? Because he’d wanted to sleep with her?

“Why did you choose me?”

It’s maybe the first thing she’s said all night that seems to throw him.

“’Scuse me?”

“Mick told me that there were other options – better options – but you chose me.”

“He’s got some loose lips this week.”

She folds her arms.

“Why?”

He stares back at her, seemingly conflicted, then backs up to lean against the table.

She waits and it’s a long few seconds before he finally speaks.

“I was there the day of your bust. Was rollin by to check on shit, y’know. But then I saw what was goin on and pulled ’round to the west side of the building.” He hesitates, eyes on the floor. “Saw you.”

He says this like it’s supposed to explain exactly what he means, but she shakes her head in confusion.

“Ok…”

Now he looks up, though not quite at her.

“While you was havin your… personal moment.”

Oh, god.

Everything had suddenly hit her – what Dean had done, how much she’s missing her children and the girls – and she’d had to excuse herself for a few moments.  

But she tries not to cower; not to show how endlessly humiliated she is.

“So you chose me because you saw me cry on the job?” 

Rio blinks slowly, thoughtfully. He swallows.

And when he speaks, it’s soft; nearly inaudible.

“I chose you ’cuz it looked like you needed choosing.”

And she should breathe, should force air into her lungs, but instead -- instead she finds herself stepping closer. 

She doesn’t breathe, doesn’t think, as her legs brush against his.

His eyes are on her, warm and wanting ­– god, when last has anyone looked at her like this?

She’s frozen now, has gone as far as she can, and he straightens up. Then his hand is slipping past her hair to cup her face, angle it up to his. And he’s so warm and she shouldn’t be doing this, but she can’t think to stop; can’t remember why she should be running in the other direction.

When he kisses her, it’s soft. Softer than it should be; softer than he should be. It makes her gasp a little and then she’s pressing closer, kissing him back harder because it feels so right even though it’s all so wrong, wrong, wrong.

She whimpers as his tongue slips past her lips and then his hands are on her hips and before she knows it, he’s spinning them around, lifting her up onto the table, and by the time her legs are spread around his hips, she’s forgotten every vow she’s ever taken.

 **

Rio sips at the bottle of water.

From her pillow she watches the inked bird bob with his Adam’s apple. 

Then her eyes go to the tattoos at the back of his arms. Angry red scratches run down them, a reminder of her that he’ll take home tonight.  

“I like this place.”

Her eyebrow rises in surprise.

“You do?”

“Yeah,” he nods, “looks like a criminal hideout. Doesn't suit you.”

She doesn’t know if this is an insult or a compliment but follows his gaze to survey the huge industrial space.

“Well, it's nothing like my house, that's for sure.”

Sitting up in bed, she wraps her arms around her knees with a sad little breath.

“Every time I think about it, I like this place a little more.”

“That why you volunteer for it?” He looks amused by her visible surprise. “Might not know much about coppers, but I know nobody of your rank's stayin in a dump like this against their will.”

She stares at him for a moment, weighing up the cost of the truth, then looks away.

“I took it because I wanted to punish myself,” she admits quietly. “You know, no creature comforts.” 

Not while her children are without her; are robbed of their mother, who’d willingly taken herself away.

“But then I realised I feel more comfortable here than the home I left.”

He watches her for a moment too long before snickering in a way that comes out more forced than he probably intends.

“That's real damn sad.”

“Yeah.”

What more is there to say? Especially to him, of all people?

“I'm really tired.”

She moves the sheet higher up onto her chest in what she hopes he’ll take as a hint. There isn’t going to be a second round tonight, not like normal. Things had gotten too personal and that’s not what this is. Although she still has no idea what it is. 

He sniffs in some kind of amusement.

“That a lifelong habit?”

“What habit?” she asks sharply, looking back at him.

He’s up, beginning to dress.

“Only openin up to people you know ain't stayin; who you can push away.”

She stares back, surprised. Offended.

“That's not what I'm doing.”

“Ain't it?” He stands from putting on his shoes to regard her. “Ain't that why you kissed me back to begin with?”

“No.”

He smiles a little.

“You should be a better liar, Special Agent Boland.” He pulls on his t-shirt then shrugs, grabbing his jacket. “But it's cool.”

He’s ready to leave, expression filled with his signature brand of guarded amusement. 

“...Takes one to know one.”

[my-funky-little-cowboy]

RDR Secret Cupid

It was so exciting to be part of the @rdrsecretcupid2020​ (Thank you to the mods for all your hard work <3)

Unfortunately my cupid had to drop out, but I wanted to share my piece anyhow. They had asked for some soft Charthur, so I wrote a piece about their first kiss. Enjoy!

Warning: None Characters: Arthur Morgan, Charles Smith, John Marston Word Count: 2,018 Tropes: Pining, Fluff

“Arthur.”  He snapped back, blinking hard, the flash of white burnt into his eyelids from the fire. It had been a long few weeks since they had made it to Horseshoe and it was starting to catch up with him.

“I’m sorry, I’m back.” He turned toward the voice. 

“I asked if you was alright, but I got my answer.” John dropped down next to him. “What you thinkin’ about anyhow?” He pushed the stew around his bowl and muttered. “I don’t know how you eat this shit.” 

Arthur looked down to the bowl of stew in his lap, John wasn’t wrong, the stew tasted like shit. Another thing he needed to add to his list. Pearson had been on him about how low their meat supply was getting. Being on the run had brought a lot more of the gang closer to home, meaning more mouths to feed regularly, his normal hunting wasn’t gonna cover it anymore.

“It’s this or nothin’, and it ain’t that bad.” He threw back the rest of it, much to John’s disgust. He put the bowl to the side. “You always was a picky eater Marston, it’s why you got those beanstalk legs.” John prickled. 

“Shut up!” He put his bowl down. “Stop skirting the question. What’s got you so out of sorts?” He hated that John  was surprisingly good at reading people. He looked across the fire, avoiding John’s gaze as it burned into him. 

“Just tired. Lots to do.” His eyes found Charles, just outside the glow of the fire. A familiar feeling crept it’s way into his gut. John tugged on his shoulder, pulling his gaze back.

“Send one of them idiots out to do some of it. Ain’t always gotta be you.” He motioned to Bill sitting across the fire.

“You think this food is shit now, let’s have Bill do the huntin’.” He deadpanned. John snorted.

“I was thinkin’ more like maybe Charles could do the huntin’. I ain’t sure Bill knows what parts of the animal are edible.”  John smirked and Arthur chuckled quietly. He put his hand on John’s shoulder. Giving it a pat, he grabbed his bowl and pushed himself up. 

“Maybe you’re right, Marston. I should let some of these idiots do it. You can take my guard shift tonight.” He turned and headed to drop his bowl off at the chuck wagon. John barked after him.

“I ain’t mean me!” Arthur ignored him as he vanished out of the fire’s glow.

John was right, Dutch had kept a lot of the gang close to camp, it had fallen on Arthur to do a lot of the long distance work. Especially with John being laid up with mess in the mountains. He tossed the bowl into the wash basin and headed off toward his tent. His mind lingered on what John said. Charles was a better hunter, and his hand seemed to be healing up nicely. He’d speak with Charles in the morning

He dropped his bag on the table as he entered his tent. Unbuckling his gun belt and draping it over the chair, he plopped down onto his cot. He laid back, staring up at the canvas he stared at a small mended patch and remembered how Grimshaw had asked him to pick up some sewing supplies the next time he was in town, he grumbled, adding it to his ever growing list. He closed his eyes, he would worry more about that in the morning.

Arthur poured himself a cup of coffee, swirling the thick black liquid around the cup. The crunch of footsteps came from behind him, and he half-turned, nodding a welcome to the newcomer. 

“Mornin’, Mr. Morgan.” Kieran chirped, bending over to pour himself a cup of coffee. 

“O’Driscoll.” Arthur muttered into his coffee. Kieran bristled and opened his mouth to defend himself, but Arthur held up a hand.

“I’m just needlin’ ya, Kieran.” He took a swig from his cup. “Quit bein’ such an easy target, they can smell fear ya know.”

Kieran stuttered, his face flushing with embarrassment. He raised his mug to his lips, hiding behind it Arthur shook his head and leaning over to refill his coffee as Grimshaw joined them at the fire. 

“Gentlemen” she greeted. Arthur reached out, taking her cup from her and pouring her some coffee. 

“Mr. Morgan. We are running a little low on food. If you could find time in your busy day to do a little hunting.” Charles moved to the fire as she spoke, kneeling down to pour himself a cup of coffee.

“I can join you, Arthur.” He paused as attention turned to him. “Two can carry more.” Arthur smiled and Charles felt his ears get hot.

“Sure!” Arthur finished off his coffee. “Meet me by the horses when you’re ready.” He dropped his cup in the wash basin and went to prepare his pack. 

Hosea was talking with Dutch in his tent, hunched over a table full of papers. They dropped their voices as he passed. Arthur stuffed a couple things into his satchel, lingering as his eyes fell to the poison arrows on his table. Charles must have dropped them off, he thought as he picked them up and turned to leave, his heart fluttered.

The men were still deliberating when Arthur appeared in the entrance of the tent. Making sure his footfalls were heavier on the pallet as he stepped inside.

“Gentleman.” He lit a cigarette and took a long drag. “I’m heading out, gonna be gone a few days hunting. I’m takin’ Charles with me.” 

Hosea nodded and Dutch waved him off. The men returned to their plans and Arthur made his way toward the hitches.

The horses knickered as he approached, Ulysses pushed his head into Arthur’s back and nibbled his satchel playfully. He turned and chuckled, taking the horse’s head in his hands

“Hey boy, how ya doin?” He scratched Ulysses’ nose. “Ready to ride out? Let’s get you saddled up.” He clicked his tongue and grabbed his tack.

Charles tightened Taima’s saddle, checking the saddlebags for everything they might need as Arthur wandered into his peripherals. He watched as the horses swarmed him, the warm timbre of his chuckle made Charles smile. He led Taima over to the hitches to join Arthur.

“So, where we heading?” He ran his fingers through Taima’s mane. 

“Ain’t entirely sure, there’s plenty of deer around here. Could bring a couple back.” Arthur grunted, tightening the rear cinch. He draped his arms over Ulysses back.

“When I was in town I heard some men talking about some boars they swear was big as a bear.” He paused, trying to read Arthur. “May be worth checking out? Could feed the camp a while, a boar that big.” Arthur pulled himself into the saddle.

“Boars? Where about?” He stepped into the saddle, pulling himself up.

“Up near Three Sisters.” Charles saddled up. “Or so they said.”

“Well then, let’s head out!” He clicked his tongue again and pulled Ulysses out of camp. 

They headed north, the sun falling behind Citadel Rock as they started into the Cumberland Forest. Arthur found himself staring at Charles as they made their way through the trees. His chest tightened as he broke his gaze. The comfortable silence between them breaking as tension built in Arthur.

Get a hold of yourself. Charles is your friend. This is a silly boyhood crush. You do-

“You doin’ alright?” Arthur snapped back and glanced at Charles, concern painting his face. Charles pulled back on Taima’s reigns, slowing his pace to match Arthur’s.

“M’fine” Arthur muttered, heat flooding his ears. “Just lost in thought. Sorry.” 

Charles hummed and they rode along in silence. The sun hung low in the sky as they reached Moonstone pond.

“We should stop here for the night. Get a fresh start tomorrow.” Arthur pulled Ulysses off the path and over to the derelict cabin. 

He pulled the bedroll from the horse’s tack and dropped it on the ground beside him, grabbing a few more things before freeing Ulysses to go graze. Charles dismounted, gathering his belongings he freed Taima to join Ulysses. He cleared his throat.

“I’ll get started on a fire.” 

The temperature had plummeted since the sun had fallen behind the mountains, the wind picking up through the trees. Charles pulled on his thick jacket as he set off in search of firewood. Glancing back at Arthur as he worked to clear a spot for the fire, steam rising off him in the cool evening air. Charles felt that familiar feeling creep into his gut and he ripped his eyes away, scanning the floor for kindling and wood. 

Arthur had cleared the ground cover when Charles returned, arms overloaded with wood. He looked up as Charles unloaded the wood.

“Let’s get this fire started, before you catch your death.”  Charles chided. Arthur smiled awkwardly, the flutter in his stomach re-ignited.

“Ain’t so bad out here.” He dismissed, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. 

Charles huffed gently and got to setting the fire. Arthur laid out the bedrolls before disappearing into the the growing darkness. He returned a few minutes later, bow in hand, wrapped in a thick coat.

“Guess I’ll go see about some dinner.” Arthur called out, lingering awkwardly near the edge of the fire’s cast light. Charles pushed back onto his haunches over the flames clapping the dirt from his palms.

“Thought you weren’t cold?” Charles stood and went for his own bow. Arthur flushed and looked down. “I’ll join you.”

“You don’t gotta do that.” Arthur sputtered. 

Charles heart swelled, his mind wandering back to that first hunting trip they took up in the mountains. He smiled to himself, proud that Arthur was still using the bow.

“Think of it as a second lesson.” Charles motioned to the bow in Arthur’s hands. A small smile played at Arthur’s lips and he nodded.

They set out on foot, the trees were alive with small game and soon enough they had picked off a couple rabbits. Charles gave way to let Arthur loose the arrows. Watching him closely, his eyes lingering and his mind wandering, the familiar warmth building in his core. He pulled his eyes away, moving to collect the carcasses.

“You’ve really improved. I’m impressed.” Charles tried to make his voice even. “Rabbit’s aren’t an easy target, especially at that distance.” He picked up the carcass.

“T-thanks. Just been doin’ what you taught me.” Arthur’s cheeks flushed in the darkness as he reached the second rabbit.

They made their way back to camp, rabbits in hand. Easy conversation flowing between them as they pushed through the undergrowth and into the glow of the fire. 

“Let me get these ready for the fire.” Charles reached out, taking the rabbit from Arthur’s hand. His fingers lingering just a bit too long.

Arthur watched Charles as he prepared the rabbits, watching how he gently stripped the carcasses and rubbed herbs into the meat before placing it over the fire. He carefully turned the meat to avoid charring it. 

“Here.” Charles held out a skewer to Arthur.

“Thanks.” He took a bite, the flavors exploding in his mouth and his eyes lit up. “You’re gonna have to teach me how you did that.” He took another big bite and Charles blushed. 

“I guess we’re going to have to do this again then.” Charles trailed off and Arthur’s eyes met his, the fire between them flared.

“Yeah.” he breathed. “I guess so.” He leaned in and cupped his hand to Charles’ chin, their lips gently brushing together. Charles stiffened and Arthur pulled back, panic filling him.

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean...I just. I don’-” Charles’ lips crashed into his, hungry and warm. He hands tangling through Arthur’s hair. The forgotten rabbit burning over the fire. 

They parted, Charles pressing his forehead to Arthur’s, pushing the hair from his face, he smiled.

“Don’t be. I’ve wanted to do that for a long time.” He pressed his lips to Arthur’s again.

[dollbitch24]

A Bowers’ Bet

Hello all you beauties out there! In celebration of the release of It Chapter 2, I thought i’d post this since it’s been sitting in my drafts for awhile and what better time than now to indulge in the guilty pleasure that is known as The Bowers Gang? Let me know what you think!:)

Summary: When Henry and Patrick make a twisted pact on who can steal Derry High’s most inexperienced student’s virginity first, they think it will be their most exciting game yet. But what happens when one starts to develop feelings, while the other is determined as ever to win, no matter what or who is standing in their way? 

A Bowers’ Bet Part 2

“Fuck, I wish you could have seen the tits on this one. They were a nice distraction from her whiney fucking voice. You should have heard her. ‘Oh Patrick, please, fuck me. Patrick your cock is so big. Patrick I want it harder. Patrick tell me what a dumb fucking bitch I am,” Patrick shrieks in his best attempt at the girls high pitched voice. As if humiliating his girls when they were alone wasn’t enough, Patrick felt he always needed to talk about the intimate details to his three best buddies later.

“Well maybe that last part is what I was thinking but still, it was making my fucking dick go limp, so I made sure to not only shut her up then and there, but tried to make her lose her voice to spare everybody else who has to endure it constantly in the best way I knew how,” he sneers, his cheshire grin growing from ear to ear as he was reminiscing on the beautiful fear that flashed in the girl’s light blue eyes. It was an instant look of regret, but Patrick relished that sudden realization, knowing it was way too late to back out since they were already bare and on their knees for him because lets face it, he is never one to show mercy. Getting involved with someone like Patrick was like playing with fire, sooner or later you’re bound to get burned.... literally.

Vic and Belch let out an awkward laugh, trying to appease Patrick as Henry gave him the biggest eye roll of the century. Henry couldn’t stand listening to Patrick’s play by play of which girl he fucked, how they fucked, where they fucked, and everything in between. Even though he would never admit it, Henry was secretly jealous of Patrick because of how much action he constantly got. Patrick noticed Henry’s annoyed expression from the unamused scowl on his face.

“What stick is up your ass today huh?” Patrick questions, calling Henry out in front of the whole group.

“Nothin’ you asshole, I’d just like to talk about something else other than hearing you go on and on about fucking the living day lights out of Macy Hartfield.”

“Alright then,” Patrick mocks, interlocking his fingers together as he sets them down onto the lunch table. “Enough about me. Let’s talk about you. So tell us Bowers, what girls have you been fucking lately?”

Patrick knew Henry wasn’t getting any, but he just enjoyed pushing his buttons way too much.

“I get plenty of pussy thank you very fucking much, sorry not everyone goes for the school’s biggest come dumpsters,” Henry scoffs, leaning back in his seat with his arms crossed.

“Oh Henry, you’re so cute when you’re jealous. Why don’t you just accept the fact that I can get any bitch in this place on their backs for me. Or preferably, their stomachs.”

Suddenly, a very awful, terrible idea comes to Henry’s malicious mind. “You want to bet on it?” he challenges, putting his elbows on the table.

Patrick squints his eyes slightly, a sly smirk forming on his mouth as he licks his lips in great anticipation.

“What kind of bet we talkin’ about here Bowers?” Patrick asks with his voice low, scooting his chair as he leans in closer to Henry, feeling extremely intrigued.

“I’ll give you two weeks to make the school’s Virgin Mary want to fuck you,” Henry challenges, grinning widely as the scheme that was brewing in his head began, making his eyes light up with excitement. 

Patrick chortles before he responds. “And who might that be?”

Henry literally couldn’t stifle the smug grin any longer, until he finally points his finger to the far right corner at a girl who was sitting by herself with papers and books scrawled out all over the table.

“Her.”

Patrick follows Henry’s directions when he notices the lovely brunette with the glasses, sitting alone but looking very much occupied with some sorts of school work. Her name is Juliet and she was known for being one of Derry High’s brightest students. Juliet could be described as bashful by most, but is very sweet and genuinely loves being able to help people, no matter who it is, any way she can. Unfortunately, having brains and a pure heart leaves her with the ultimate stereotypical label of being “inexperienced” and way too innocent to ever be as promiscuous as the other popular girls in school. Patrick observed the way her clothes fit a bit too loose around her small frame and how she was wearing a lavender cardigan with long sleeves even though it was hot out and how her long dark brown hair fell into loose waves in front of her face. 

Although underneath the clothing and square framed glasses, no one had ever really took the chance to realize how beautiful she was. Juliet had light freckles that speckled across her nose, voluptuous pink lips that could make any boy imagine what it’d feel like to kiss them, and her eyes were a hazel color that could be almost hypnotizing. As Patrick observed her, he noticed every detail of her in an instant, making him smirk in satisfaction because Juliet was everything he desired; attractive, fragile, and weak.

“Oh you’ve got yourself a deal Bowers,” Patrick agrees, already having a hard time tearing his eyes away from his new found possession. “But how about we make things a little more interesting?” he grins, turning back so he’s facing Henry. Suddenly, Patrick gets an even worse idea.

“You have to try to pop her cherry too,” Patrick smirks.

“What the fuck you mean Hockstetter?” Henry fumes, becoming clearly irritated that his evil scheme wasn’t going according to plan.

“Whoever fucks the girl first wins,” Patrick declares.

Henry glances over at Juliet once again, now despising himself for picking her because the only reason he had in the first place was because she literally had “virgin” written across her forehead.

"Whats wrong Henry? Scared?” Patrick taunts, throwing his hands behind his head as he stretched his tall legs out in front of him.

Henry Bowers’ reputation and ego was too important to him than to have his gang thinking he was a pussy.

“I ain’t fucking scared, you’re on,” Henry smirks, biting his lips as the two boys shake hands.

“Well how are you going to prove if one of you have sex with her?” Vic intervenes, bringing up a fairly good point. I’m sure Belch and Vic wouldn’t put it past Henry to make up some elaborate lie if it came down to it. He would do anything to not kill his incredibly large ego.

“Trust me, when four eyes misses a day of school because she can’t walk, you’ll know why. But if you need actual evidence I can gladly bring in the bloody sheets. I’ll be keeping them as a souvenir anyways,” Patrick chuckles, looking at the girl once again, his thoughts running wild with every little dirty thing he had planned for her.

Henry shakes his head in disgust, “What the fuck? No, we’ll just have to trust each other’s word, but let’s make one thing clear Hockstetter. You can’t force her or scare her into fucking you. The whole point is to actually have her fall for one of us.”

“You guys are both way over your heads. You’ll never get a girl like that to fuck either of you scum bags,” Belch laughs before chugging down the remainder of his chocolate milk.

“Oh just you wait,” Patrick states biting his bottom lip, staring blankly yet intently at Juliet. He rises up from his seat before leering down at Henry, smiling wickedly. He briefly glances at Juliet once more before his beady eyes go right back down to his best friend. “Let the games begin Bowers.”

Patrick turns and coolly starts to stalk his way over to her table, taking his sweet time with every slow stride as he begins getting closer to her. He reaches her table and it’s like his looming presence is impossible not to notice as Juliet slowly lifts her head up. Her big, doe, eyes widened a bit as her insides churned slightly when she realized who was standing in front of her. Even though Juliet wasn’t defined as a cool girl, it didn't mean she lived under a rock and never heard all the insane stories about the deranged boy.

“Hey there pretty girl, mind if I join?” he nods, motioning to the chair beside her. Patrick doesn’t even give the poor girl an option to respond as he slides the chair out, causing a high pitch screeching sound, before sitting down beside her. He sat so close that their shoulders and thighs were touching making her feel a little uncomfortable, but of course Juliet would never have the nerve to tell him to go away. Patrick takes no time before he begins analyzing her so intently, she feels as if he was staring right into her soul.

“Hey Patrick,” she greets with a soft smile. Patrick just continues to stare at her, completely taking her in. Juliet then realizes what he must need from her.

“So let me guess? Mrs. Evan’s algebra homework? Or maybe Mr. Beasley’s English outline?” she questions as her nose scrunches a little bit in a teasing manner. The way she said it was not cocky, but cute and her delicate voice had a certain soothingness to it that even Patrick couldn’t ignore. He breathed in, inhaling her pure, innocent, scent feeling so tempted to just touch her. To feel her. It was strange, Patrick suddenly felt ticked off that she was so used to boys only wanting her for her brains that she automatically assumed he was only talking to her to jot some math answers down.

“You’re so accustomed to people only wanting to use you for that little head of yours aren’t ya?” he grins as his eyes raked down her body unshamefully.

“Sometimes,” she responds while tilting her head a bit. “And your so accustomed to everyone being petrified of you. Aren’t you?”

Patrick was a bit taken back that she wasn’t stuttering under his intense gaze, how she wasn’t staring down at the ground in uneasiness, or how she wasn’t fidgeting, desperately hoping he would just go away. 

“I guess you could say that,” Patrick answers, somehow scooting even closer to her. He takes his long fingers to her collarbones and lightly traces over them as he begins to toy with her necklace. “Tell me,” he demands in a husky tone, his voice almost sounding an octave deeper as he continues to ask, “Are you afraid of me princess?”

She studies his face quizzically for a second before she chuckles,“Well I suppose that depends.” Juliet grabs his hand and places it back onto his lap. “Do I have any reasons to be?”

“Depends,” he mocks her as he drapes his arm around Juliet’s chair.

“On?” 

“If you’re willing to go out with me this weekend and find out for yourself.”

Juliet knew Patrick Hockstetter was an intense and strange person, but she figured many of the rumors about Patrick must be false or extremely fabricated. Although, who would even possess the vile imagination those stories held?

“Hmmm, I don’t know, sounds a bit risky,” Juliet swiftly remarks as she begins to gather all her papers in place to put in her folder. Patrick doesn’t move as he watches her intently, his tongue gliding back and forth on his teeth as he begins to ponder what to do with this girl who he seriously underestimated. Juliet seemed to be poised and confident, which actually intrigued Patrick more, but he knew he needed to change that real quick. 

“You’re probably right,” Patrick responds quirking an eyebrow up, making Juliet stop what she was doing and look into his eyes. “I mean it would be so easy to lure you in my room, tear your clothes off with a knife and cut that sweet tan skin of yours as I take those glasses off so you wouldn’t even be able to clearly see what would be coming next.”

Juliet freezes, appearing a bit stunned at Patricks intense words. Her eyes couldn’t help but widen a bit as she unknowingly begins to peer at Patrick in fear.

“Or there’s always dinner and a movie. Your choice,” he smirks as he begins to chuckle, making Juliet exhale a breath she didn’t even realize she was holding in. She began to awkwardly laugh with him, but there was a daunting way he said those words that made her feel like he was not kidding.

She begins piling her belongings in her book bag rather hastily now, desperately trying to conjure up how to turn down Patrick graciously.

“I’m really sorry Patrick, but I’m going to pass on both choices,” Juliet states while standing up and putting her bag over her shoulder.

This made him angry, but he knew he had to keep his cool to get her where he needed. It’s as if she was a mouse and he was the deadly trap waiting to snap down onto her neck to crush her. Usually his dangerous charm worked on every girl he wanted in his bed.

“Well you haven’t even listened to option three yet,” he says as more of a demand, standing up so he was hovering over her tiny height, blocking her from walking past him.

“Listen Patrick, I’m sure you’re a very...uhm..uhh” Juliet was stumbling on her own words, having a hard time figuring out if she had actually heard anything good about Patrick at all. She huffed and took a breath before she restarted and continued, “I’m sure you are a very nice guy, but I know your ways and I’m not falling for any of them.”

Patrick belts out in a laugh before he responds, “Oh please sweetheart, enlighten me.”

“If I say no, you enjoy it because you like the challenge of persuading me otherwise. If I say yes, you get what you want faster.”

Patrick ducks his head lower to get eye to eye level with her, smirking profoundly. “Sounds like in either situation you’re stuck with me.”

“Well you haven’t listened to my option yet,” Juliet persuades, gently pressing her hand against his chest so he would back away a bit. “Patrick, please, let’s just pretend this encounter didn’t happen today and we can just go on like we have been.”

Patrick snickered quietly, making Juliet become more internally frustrated. 

“And here I thought you had me all figured out there princess,” he sneers before he states, “But there’s one thing you left out.” Patrick grabs her by the neck firmly as he moves his mouth to her ear when he slowly murmurs,"When I want something, I fantasize about it all day long. I think about it so much I drive myself crazy thinking about how much I need it. How much I want it. How much I fucking crave it.”

Patrick begins combing through her long strands with his bony fingers before he continues. “So basically,” he states, gripping her neck slightly harder, “When I want something, there’s no going back.” 

Juliet briefly closes her eyes in frustration before he moves to face her, releasing his grip on her neck and gently grabbing her chin now. “Understand?”

“Patrick, you’re just wasting your time okay? I’m really sorry, but I just don’t want to go out with you and I never will.”Juliet became shocked at her harsh words towards the boy. She has never spoken to somebody like this before. It’s like Patrick’s transparency was contagious. 

“Bet I'll change your mind,” he winks and with that, he releases her and turns to walk away into the crowded lunch room towards the door, leaving Juliet confused with his sudden mood change. All she is left with is his famous last words that she would never know the double meaning of until it’s too late.

Henry was livid having to witness Patrick and Juliet’s interaction at lunch today from afar and knew if he wanted to beat Hockstetter at his own game, he had to think not only hard, but fast. He knew absolutely nothing about Juliet, other than the fact that she was a goody two shoes who has never been touched before. He had to talk to someone who could give him at least some information about what the girl liked or disliked, and Henry knew exactly the person to ask.

Eddie Kaspbrak. Henry has seen them in the library numerous of times and that was because Juliet tutored him whenever he needed help with math which was very often.

As soon as that bell rang, Henry darted down the math hallway in search of the kid’s dorky face. Finally, he spots him heading into the boy’s bathroom. Perfect, Henry thought to himself. 

He waits outside the stall Eddie is in until the door swings open. The skinny  boy sees the infamous Henry Bowers right in front of him and his facial features go from relaxed to petrified.

“Tell me everything you know about Juliet,” Henry demands, cutting right to the chase as he props his hand up on the bathroom stall. Eddie’s eyebrows scrunch in confusion. Wait, no swirlie? No atomic wedgie?

“Why?” Eddie questions. Part of him was purely just curious and another part of him was concerned for her. Henry grabs him by his perfectly ironed, red collar as he brings his face closer to his.

“That wasn’t a fucking question loser, tell me what you know about the girl.”

That makes Eddie’s bottom lip tremble as he begins obeying Henry’s command, babbling every single random fact he knew about innocent Juliet.

“Uh, s-s-she loves books, especially poetry, she loves animals, she’s really good at playing the piano, she likes flowers a lot, and uhm-”

“Uh huh, keep going,” Henry urges on, wanting to hear more.

“Uhm Juliet typically doesn’t go for you know.... grungey looking guys...” 

“What the fuck are you saying Kaspbrak, that I’m some sort of grease ball?” Henry hisses, gripping the boy’s collar harder.

“N-no! Not at all! Y-You’re a very handsome guy Henry! Please! Don’t stick my head in the toilet again,the last time my mom took me to the hospital because she thought I caught a virus!”

Henry closes his eyes briefly, trying his best to not beat Eddie’s face in before asking,“Is there anything else Kaspbrak?”

“That’s all I can really think of right now.”

Henry releases the boy’s shirt, motioning his head towards the door, signaling that Eddie was free to go. He starts to wheeze before scrambling out of there, leaving Henry with not a whole lot of knowledge about Juliet, but enough to plan his next move.

Patrick was leaned against the front of the school’s building, waiting for Juliet to come out of her last class of the day. He was hoping the scheme he conjured up with Vic earlier would go exactly as planned. Asking Belch was an option too, but Patrick felt he would go and rat on him to Henry. 

The last bell rings, meaning school was out of session as all the kids swarm out of the building. Ben Hanscom came slowly walking out with some sort of project in his hands and headphones over his ears, completely delirious to the fact that Patrick and Vic were waiting for him.

Vic saunters over to Ben, yanking the headphones off of his head, making him turn around. Patrick witnesses as Vic tries stalling Ben as much as possible until he sees Juliet exiting through the double doors.

Finally a minute later, he catches her walking out, the slight breeze blowing her hair and skirt a bit. He smiles to himself and begins to rush over to Vic, whispering in his ear, “There she is.” Suddenly, Patrick runs quickly behind a tree not too far away.

Vic glances over and waits till he knows she will have the perfect view to see what he’s about to do.

Juliet is a couple of inches away from them, and that is when Vic decides it’s the perfect time to strike. He shoves Ben hard, almost making him fall straight to the ground before smacking his project out of his hands, making the entire thing fall apart into dismembered pieces onto the ground. Juliet immediately stops in her tracks, frowning at the malicious act towards the new boy, which makes her get down to help pick up the destroyed assignment. 

Patrick suddenly comes “rushing” forward. 

“What the hell is the matter with you Vic,” Patrick snaps as he gives a fake smack with the back of his hand onto Vic’s shoulder. “Leave the kid alone. Here buddy, let me help you,” he apologizes, getting on his hands and knees to clean up the mess, along with Juliet. If there was one thing Vic realized in that moment, it was that Patrick was taking desperate measures to get Juliet’s attention and approval. 

Ben just stands there, puzzled, completely and utterly lost as to what is happening. Patrick has never done anything but torture the poor kid since he moved to Derry. Ben and Juliet stare at Patrick, totally stunned at witnessing him being nice. It’s sad that the boy was so insane that observing him do a humane act was seen as astonishing. Juliet was quite surprised that he stood up against his own friend to defend Ben Hanscom, but that was another thing about Juliet, she believed that regardless of who you were, everyone had just a little bit of good in them. Unfortunately, Patrick was too far gone, and she would figure that out soon enough.

The two of them finish up piling the styrofoam remains on top of the cardboard. Patrick stands to his feet, handing it over to Ben. “Here ya go fella.”

Ben has his mouth slightly agape as he stares at Patrick with a complete blank stare on his face. He slowly grabs the deteriorated project from his hands, feeling actually frightened by the eerie smile on Patrick’s face. Hockstetter thought he was coming off friendly, but it was like a wild bear trying to disguise itself as a bunny rabbit. Ben quirks an eyebrow up before he says, “Uhh, thanks I guess.”

“Run along now,” Patrick orders, not being able to constrain his true self for too much longer. Ben senses Patrick’s familiar hostility return in his voice before he quickly walks away as fast as his chubby little legs can away from him.

Patrick offers his hand out to Juliet, thinking that was a “gentleman” thing to do. She glances up at him reluctantly before grabbing his hand as he pulls her light weight up off the ground.

“Thanks. That was..... that was really sweet of you to stick up for him like that,” Juliet states in disbelief. Patrick was feeling overjoyed that he was getting the exact reaction he wanted out of her.

“Well what can I say? Can’t judge a book by its cover right?” Patrick taunts, using what she loves as a way to make her feel guilty. She immediately looks down to the ground, her stomach fluttering with nerves that only a person like Patrick could cause. He sensed this and it made him feel more powerful every time she showed any act of uneasiness. 

Suddenly, Henry and Belch come out of the building, immediately spotting Patrick, Juliet, and Vic in an instant. They step down the stairs before making their way towards them.

“Juliet, right?” Henry asks her, pretending to play cool and not give her the slightest clue that she’s all he’s been thinking about the entire half of the day. 

“Yes,” she smiles, her perfectly straight teeth on full display. When Henry sees her face to face, he can’t help the sudden, uncontrollable, rapid beating of his cold heart. Christ, he thought. If she just ditched the glasses, wore some tighter clothes, and had more confidence, she would blow all the girls at Derry High out of the water.

“Here. I found your book. It must of fell out of your bag when you were walking in the hallway or somethin’,” Henry shrugs, scratching the back of his head as he hands Juliet her copy of Hamlet. 

Henry was just as big of a schemer as Patrick was. Juliet’s book didn’t accidentally just fall out of her back pack. Belch was the lucky one in the bunch who had Chemistry with her. To help Henry out, Belch stole the small book out of her bag when she was too preoccupied working on the lab they were assigned. Henry now had the perfect excuse to go up and talk to her, plus it was also extra brownie points that he was doing something kind like going out of his way to bring it back.

Her eyes immediately beam when she lets out a little gasp. “Oh! You have no idea how crazy I was looking for this. It was so strange,” she giggles. “It was like it totally disappeared. Thank you Henry,” she states, studying him, not understanding how the school’s most notorious bully would give a care in the world about a lost book that belonged to someone else. He noticed her observant stare and she didn’t want to offend him so she continues on and says, “Honestly. I never would have found it.”

Patrick and Henry didn’t realize how they both came up with a similar scheme to get the girl’s attention. What’s even worse is that Juliet didn’t notice either.

Belch is biting his lip from holding back the mischievious grin on his face before him and Henry quickly glance at one another clearly amused. Henry would never admit how he loved hearing her say his name. Patrick rolls his eyes, hating that Henry just had to swoop in and ruin his plan with a fucking book.

“Wow, how kind of you Henry,” Patrick sarcastically remarks before grabbing the girl’s hand. “Let’s go Juliet, I’ll walk you home.” 

“That’s okay,” Juliet rushes, pulling her hand away from Patrick instantly as if he had some kind of disease that she could catch just by touching him. “My mom’s in the car down there waiting for me.” 

“See you guys later,” Juliet waves before turning around and walking toward’s her mother’s car. When she hops in, her mom is quick to question what she briefly just witnessed.

“Why were you talking to those delinquents Juliet?” she scolds. Her scarlet red lips twisted into a grimace.

“I lost my book and Henry was just returning it to me mom, that’s all it was.”

“I don’t want to ever see you around them again, do you understand me? They’re nothing but trouble.” Juliet’s mother glares at the four boys before putting the car in drive. 

“I understand,” Juliet mutters while opening up her book, deciding that was a good way to not have to talk about the Bowers Gang any further. When she opens it up to where her bookmark laid, a little slip of paper comes falling out onto her lap. Her eyebrows knit together before she grabs the note and begins to unfold it. It reads:

Juliet, 

You’re so pretty, it makes me sick

I really mean that, I’m not trying to be a dick

I ain’t good with words, but I can kind of rhyme

Will you go out with me this Friday? I think we’d have a good time

Please say yes, it would make me so happy

Sorry, I know this poem is really fucking crappy

-Henry Bowers

Juliet puts her hand over her slightly open mouth, covering the stunned expression on her face. No boy has ever done anything like this for her and never in a million years would she think the Henry Bowers would be the boy to do it. Juliet quickly glances over at her mother to make sure she hasn’t noticed anything before quickly folding the note back up while biting down the suppressed grin she so desperately wish she didn’t have to hide. Unfortunately, little did Juliet know those “heartfelt” words were used to leer her in and now she has officially fallen for the deceiving trap that Henry has perfectly set up. 

For just a moment, there was a small voice in the back of her head that was telling her it was a bit strange that the two boys who have never given her the time of day have suddenly sparked an interest in her. Unfortunately, she simply brushed it off, knowing that the whole gang was notorious for collectively hitting on girls. Although, Juliet began to feel a sliver of hope that maybe, just maybe, there was so much more to at least Henry Bowers than what her mother, the town of Derry, or even Juliet herself made him out to be. And that was her first mistake.

[bloodshot-interactive]

Our Love is Nothing but a Game

A one-shot drabble about how Bliss and Madison’s breakup went down. Be warned of implied sexual themes

Story under the cut

The Grand Metropolis skyline illuminated brightly with pride throughout the late night sky as the motorcycle sped ahead of the other vehicles on the road. Madison was clearly upset as he drove his way to a bar. Not only does he like and want to drink, but it was also his way to cope, to let loose and clear out whatever was holding him back.

Speaking off holding back.

He got reminded of what happened earlier…

Flashback a few hours…

As Madison returned to a cheap hotel from his gig, the entire suite was quiet. He assumed Bliss was already asleep so he walked further to the living room calling for Bliss that he was home. No response. The only noise was a cheesy old sitcom on TV.

“Come on, Bliss…” he muttered under his breath as he picked up the remote from the table and turned off the TV. He walked over the only bedroom in the suite.

Bliss wasn’t sleeping. She wasn’t there at all. The only things left lying about on the bed was a small note and a banquet of pink and red roses. The raven’s brow was raised as he picked up the note and read it.

“Sorry Maddie. It’s time we move on...” followed by a kiss mark…

End flashback...

He sighed, rolling his eyes as he parked in front of the bar. He took off his sunglasses, and stuffed it inside his leather jacket before walking inside. ‘Don’t worry about that, just have fun…’ he thought to himself.

Everyone at the bar is living lively, having a chill time talking, laughing and dancing, lights dimmed purple, magenta and blue. Madison sat down at the barstool and waved at the squirrel tending the bar.

“Gimme a glass of whiskey, extra ice” he ordered to the squirrel, and with that they were quickly right on it as requested. They slid the drink over to Madison as he caught it. Taking a small sip of the drink, the bird smiled. Cold. Exactly how he liked it.

As the raven turned around to watch everyone having a good time, he saw a couple making out in the corner, and another pair leaving the bar, happily drunk, holding onto each other for dear life and giggling at whatever. He sighed, leaning back on the counter, taking another sip. He really wished it was him….and Bliss.

There's a sudden faint floral smell in the room. That fragrance was all too familiar to him. Putting his drink down, he hopped off the barstool to follow it.

Is that really who I think this is?

That can’t be. Right?

The floral smell got stronger and warmer as he stood at the round table staring directly at who it belonged to. Madison’s eyes widened. Heart skipping a beat.

It was her.

“Bliss?”

As the moth was in the middle of her waiting daze, surrounding herself in heavy pink smoke from her e-cigarette, she turned to the voice belonging to the familiar raven. She tilted her head and gave him an unnoticeable, fake smile, her small, crimson sunglasses gave off a shine from the dimmed multicolored lights.

“Ohh, hi, Maddie! I didn’t think you’d find me here of all places. What brings you here?”

Madison folded his arms and glanced away at the silk moth. “Ah ya know, just trying to let loose, meeting new people, just vibing… ya know?” He chuckled sheepishly, hiding the fact by how hurt he was. He’s having the urge to ask her a question, biting his lower beak.

Bliss chuckled softly, taking a drag of her e-cig. She then blew out more smoke as she spoke, “That's good to hear. You deserve to vibe after all that hard wor—“

“So what’s up with the note?”

The moth’s antennae flicked at the sudden question from the raven. She switched her e-cig off and stuffed it into her hot pink purse. “Excuse me?”

Madison’s voice was a bit firm, held out his hands for gesture as he leaned a bit forward, “The note! And flowers on the bed. You left me!” his arms drooped down in a bit of defeat “Why? I thought our relationship was strong.”

“The note…” the silk moth thought for a moment with a mutter, “Oh right, the note! Yeeeaah, about that” she pushed her sunglasses down a bit, her pitched black eyes staring up at the bird. She clearly has no pupils but Madison can tell she was looking at him. “I got bored. So I left.”

“Bored…?” He muttered monotonously in question

“Yup” she laid back on the cushioned seat, one leg over the other, giving the raven a cold smirk, “honestly, I never actually loved you. I only wanted you for your money, but it seems like you have nothing left on you after you waved goodbye to that degenerate gang of yours. You really believed that our love lasted that long?”

“I DID!!” The raven’s yelling caught everyone’s attention to the former couple. They all stopped talking and everything they were doing, even the music came to a halt. All eyes are on them now. It made Bliss flinch quite a bit but it didn’t bother Madison none.

His feathers bristled, leather gloved hands clinched to fists, “You think our relationship is a game to you?! I put so much effort on my love for you! I gave you everything you wanted!!”

Madison’s brows furrowed with the sign of confusion and anger but didn’t break eye contact with Bliss. The poor guy was heartbroken. “Bliss! I loved you!!”

The silk moth frowned and turned away, crossing her arms impatiently. No response.

“I spent most of my money on a fancy dinner, an amusement park, the goddamned movie theatre! And on top of that, I ditched my fucking gang so I can spend more time with you while on a solo gig!” Madison facepalmed at the last thing he’s ever done. That was the biggest mistake on his part.

“My boss is gonna want me dead by now…!”

Bliss turned back to Madison, a sultry, cat like smirk returned to her face, “That's good! Dirt cheap men like you deserved it. Anyone I touch will suffer beautifully. And you’re one of them. I can see it on your pathetic little face...” her dangerous smile grew wide.

The raven was disgusted by her statement, “So you want me dead after everything we had together?! Are...are you fuckin’ hearing yourself right now??”

“Nope.” The silk moth got up, snatching her overcoat and purse off the seat, “I honestly don’t have time to deal with you right now. You men are nothing but sorry excuses who don’t know to treat a lady. It’s over between us. At least there’s someone else out there with better class!” As soon as she’s out of her seat, she sees someone calling her name. Her wings fluttered as she flew quickly away from the bird, calling out sweetly to the one bulky grey wolf. “Big Daddy~!”

Madison looked on at his ex and that wolf in disbelief.

“Aye, there’s my lil’ Creme Puff! Sorry I took so long, hadda take care of some business.” the wolf gave the moth a toothy smile, gently squeezing at her ass with a hug. He then took a look at a confused Madison across from him. “That bird botherin’ ya?”

Bliss’s gloved claws gliding elegantly, at the wolf’s broad chest, nonexistent hues staring pleadingly at him, “Oh Big Daddy~ indeed~! That mean ol’ bird won’t leave me alone!” She pushed herself against him, “Please, Big Daddy, make him stop!” As her silky, seductive voice and wanton touch puts the wolf under a spell, his clawed hand gently slides down at the moth's soft hair with a huff, smirking at her.

“Aight, let Big Bad handle this one. Ya stay put, my lil’ Creme Puff” the Wolf, known as Big Bad walked over to Madison, towering over him. “Ya gotta problem with my girl?”

“Your girl?” Madison scoffed and folded his arms, grayish blue eyes locked at Big Bad orange ones, “You mean, my girl, right. You hardly ever met her!”

“Oh yeah?” That’s when Big Bad grabbed Madison by the collar of his jacket, bumping each other’s heads. “Lemme tell ya somethin’, buddy, Bliss is my girl now. So ya betta stay away from her, or else we gon’ have some problems, ya feel me!?”

The raven growled in anger as he looked over at the wolf’s shoulder and spotted Bliss, who’s smiling deviously at the both of them. He looked back at the Wolf and pushed him away. “Yeah, I understand perfectly. Though, I got one advice for you, my man. You better keep ya eyes open, ‘cause you’re dealing with something that you’re gonna regret!”

“Tha fuck’re tryin’ a say?” Big Bad’s orange hues staring up and down at the bird, looking to punch this guy senseless.

“All I’m saying is, to her, you’re nothing but a pot of gold, but she’ll leave you to rot if you ain’t got shit for her like she did to me just now. So you better count your fucking days, bucko, you’ll be biting the dust before you know it!”

As soon as Madison was on his way out, he was grabbed from the back of his jacket by Big Bad, and was tossed towards the very back where the DJ was playing his tunes, crashing forcefully at the wall in the process. Everyone gasped and muttered about as to what’s going on.

Madison slowly sat up and took out his handgun

from inside his jacket. This caught everyone’s attention. “That does it, you’ve crossed the line!!” But before he attempts to pull the trigger, Bliss was in the way, hugging Big Bad lovingly, pecking kisses at his face. Madison lowered his weapon and stuffed it back into his jacket in defeat.

“Oh~ Big Daddy, you’re such a big, strong man~! You're turning me on already!” Bliss’s voice was too sultry, too sweet to resist, but her stare at the poor raven was deadly and devilish for sure.

“Heh, what can I say, they don’t call me Big Bad for nothin’ ya know?” The grey wolf wrapped his arm around the silk moth before they left the bar. “Let’s head over to my club, too many creeps n’ freaks up in this joint”

Watching this newfound duo leave, Madison brushed himself off in anger and kicked the dirt off the floor. He aggressively took off his jacket and threw it to the floor. He noticed all the patrons, even the DJ and the bartender were watching this in concern and fear.

“What the fuck are are you all looking at??” He muttered, grabbing his jacket off the floor and stormed out of the bar.

Driving back to the hotel, he smirked and started laughing to himself. What a fool he was; and to think he and Bliss had something special and now he’s been played. He should’ve listened to ZigZag and Diesel about leaving the gang, but he was too blindly in love with the moth that he had to. Now he’s a dead man walking and he had to figure out ways to not be seen by the bikers to get himself killed. Fuck that! He’s not gonna take shit from anyone. He’s gonna let everyone in Grand Metropolis know that he’s not a game, that he’s not the man to mess with.

And he sure as hell, karma will soon creep at that Bitch.

Their love was nothing but a game...

[moody-cowdaddy]

Blue Button-Down

Arthur Morgan x Reader | Imagine #4

Summary: You get soaked during a rainstorm while on an overnight trip with Arthur, and now you're freezing.

Category: Fluff, Sexual Tension.

A/N: I'm honestly having too much fun writing these lil' fluffy/sexual tension Arthur pieces. 😭 also, I apologize in advance about not being able to put add a 'keep reading' cut. It's been almost a year or so since I've been on Tumblr to actually write as much as I have the past week. I'm not sure how Tumblr mobile works anymore. So, if anyone would know how to put this under a cut, please let me know. 🤷‍♀️

××××

"I said, I wanna touch the earth

I wanna break it in my hands

I wanna grow something wild and unruly

I wanna sleep on the hard ground

In the comfort of your arms

On a pillow of blue bonnets

In a blanket made of stars

Oh, it sounds good to me."

××××

If there was ever a time for New Hanover to suffer a torrential downpour, it was always whenever you and Arthur went on trips where it was necessary to stay overnight. There had been some O'Driscolls spotted in the Valetine saloon. So, immediately, Dutch sent the two of you out to tail the gang back to their hideout to take them all out.

You were halfway to Strawberry when the bottom of the sky seemed to just give out, pummeling the two of you and the surrounding area with rain. It was already close to dusk, so Arthur decided that you needed to stop and set up a campsite as fast as you could to get you and the horses of the rain.

You agreed with him as you slid yourself off of Jasper, leading him over to a slightly more wooded area to provide the stallion with some form of cover from the weather onslaught. Your clothes were already halfway soaked with water, and you could feel your body temperature dropping the more the cold rain fell on you.

"Think ya can help me get this tent up?" Arthur asked as he untied a canvas from the back of Athena's saddle.

"Yeah, we gotta be quick. Looks like it's set in for the night." You walked over to him, helping him unload the rest of the supplies from his saddle.

He nodded. "Seems that way. Them O'Driscolls will have'ta wait 'til mornin'."

The two of you were utterly drenched by the time you finally got the tent set up. Arthur seemed to be unbothered by it, but then again, he had been subject to far more harsh weather than this. You, on the other hand, were completely chilled to the bone. When you were finally able to get inside of the tent, it was a relief to finally have yourself sheltered from the freezing rain, but you were still cold, regardless. It was going to take more than just shelter to warm you back up. You dropped yourself to the ground, shivering as you pulled off your trail coat, tossing it to the side. It was a bit of a relief, but not by much, the majority of the rest of your clothes were still soaked through to the skin.

"Goddamn," Arthur hissed as climbed into the tent after you. "I tried'ta get the horses s'much cover as I could. It's a damn mess out there."

He lowered himself onto his bedroll near you as he pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, lighting one up. It was quiet, all except for the sound of the rain as it poured on top of the tent, beating the material to hell, gallon by gallon. You did what you could to wring the water out of your hair before bringing your knees up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them as your shivering began to intensify when the cool air from the outside hit your drenched clothing.

Arthur had took notice of it immediately, turning his attention towards you. "Ya alright, girl?"

You shook your head. "Other than freezing to death, I'm fine."

"Ya bring any extra clothes?" He stuck the cigarette between his lips, taking a drag.

You gave him a pleading look as you shook your head, figuring he'd berate you for not bringing any extra. But he didn't. He never did, and you knew better than that. Arthur was always different with you than the others. He'd berate anyone else in a second with his quick wit and a smart mouth, but with you, that wasn't so. If he ever had a difference of opinion with you, or needed you to know better about a situation, he'd always give you that familiar stern look of his, followed by the dangerous way his tone sounded when he said, "Girl".

Quite frankly, sometimes you'd antagonize him just to illicit that response out of him. He was even more desirable than usual when he had a streak of anger in him.

He shook his head amusingly at you as he reached over to dig through his saddlebag. "I gotta lot to teach ya about bein' prepared, huh?"

A bashful expression appeared on your face as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. "I guess ya do Mr. Morgan."

He finally leaned back over to you holding a worn, blue button down shirt. It was the one that you had seen him wearing so many times before, and your heart skipped a beat as you saw him offering it up to you now.

"Oh, Arthur. You'll have nothin' to change into if I-"

He cut you off with his free hand as he held the shirt out to you with his other, the cigarette still hanging from between his lips. "It ain't up for debate, (Y/N). You'll catch ya damn death out here if ya keep that on."

You took the shirt gently from his hands, clutching it tightly. "Thank you, Arthur."

He smiled, "Ya know damn well I ain't gonna let you freeze. Ya need me to step out?"

"No." You shook your head, "There ain't no need to for all that."

Truth be told, you'd have been more content if he was taking these soaked clothes off of your body for you.

"A'ight then." He took one last drag off the cigarette before throwing the butt of it outside of the opening flap of the tent.

But, him being the gentleman that he was, he still turned his head away from you. You sighed lightly, smiling to yourself as you began to unbutton your own shirt. Sometimes he was too much of a gentleman, but that'd have to wait, The focus right now was getting these clothes. Pulling the saturated clothes off of your body was a torture all on it's on. The wet material of both your pants and shirt still tried to cling to your body, making you hiss everytime a freezing piece of the cloth touched your skin.

When you finally got the shirt and pants off, you threw them across the tent, wanting them as far away from you as possible. You pulled Arthur's large shirt over your shoulders. It was an indescribable feeling, not only for the warmth that it held, but the fact that it was his shirt. It smelled like him; a mix of cigarettes, campfires and pine needles. He was considerably bigger than you, so the shirt was very loose fitting and comfortable. It was long enough to where it hung just a little past your thighs. You were still cold, but you felt much better than you had before.

When you finished, you lowered yourself back down onto your bedroll. Arthur peeked around to check if you were decent before he shifted himself back to the front of the tent. The rain had calmed down from what it was a few moments ago, but that wasn't saying a whole lot since it was still pouring down rather heavily.

"Ya know I'm gonna feel bad about takin' ya shirt. I owe ya one," you admitted.

"Nah," he said. "Long as your warm, that s'all that matters."

The way he cared for you almost made your heart hurt sometimes, especially when you so desperately longed to care for him, and to be with him in more than just this way.

You gave him a nod and a thankful smile as your lowered yourself to lay down on your bedroll. You and him listened quietly to the rain for a while, thinking over your own things, and thinking about how this whole thing with the O'Driscolls would play out tomorrow. But you couldn't keep your mind on much else, not even on Arthur, and that man consumed a good portion of all your thoughts. You were still bitterly cold, and the sharpness of the air outside didn't help. At all. You had began shivering again as you curled yourself up into a fetal-like position, trying to get some more warmth going, but it wasn't much use.

"Ya still cold?" Arthur cocked an eyebrow at you.

"Very. This is why I don't meddle with the cold." You could see small clouds of fog each time you spoke.

"I can't start a fire with it rainin'," Arthur breathed, looking from you to his saddlebag.

He finally stood up and quickly began to unbutton his own shirt, dropping it to the ground before he kicked his boots off. Next, he worked on his gunbelt, letting it drop the the ground with a THUD as he went for the button on his pants after that. Even as cold as you were, seeing him literally strip down in front of you like this was obviously enough to take your mind off of it for the moment. You lifted your head slightly as you watched him standing there in nothing put a pair of underwear. The man seemed to be all muscle, there was almost no part of his body that didn't look like some kinda statue you'd see in a big city, or one of them old places like Greece.

He ended up pulling out a pair of dry pants from his saddlebag and put them on. When he got the fresh pants on, he walked back over to his bedroll, yanking his blanket off of it before stepping over to you, quickly gesturing to you with his head.

"Scoot," he said bluntly.

A certain look of surprise came over your face as you leaned up, forcing your tensed muscles to move as you made room for the hulking man to lay himself down beside you. He threw his blanket over you, lowering himself down beside you. He lifted the blanket up just enough to his work his way up under it. You could feel your whole body go even more tense when you felt his body heat and the way he protectively wrapped his arm around you.

You scooted yourself just a little closer to him. You laid your head down near his chest while you brought your hand up, resting it against his broad, firm chest, feeling the tussles of chesthair beneath your fingertips. You could hear the slight hitch of his breath when you touched him, and you weren't completely sure if it was because of how cold your hand was, or if he was just that touch starved. You had a feeling that it might've been both. He didn't seem the slightest bit uncomfortable about it, though.

Overall, it seemed as if it was somewhat of an open secret between the two of you, that, you both knew that each of you had some sort of attraction to the other. But how much and how far either of you were willing to go with that was still up in the air and never discussed. You knew what you wanted from Arthur, and you just hoped that somehow he knew that.

But those were thoughts for a different time. The man literally had you in his arms at this very moment, doing whatever he could to keep your from freezing to death, and that's all you were worried about. You were absolutely grateful. You laid there for the moment in a state of complete bliss. The feeling of his strong arms around you was almost too much to bear, you hadn't experienced anything else in your life that made you feel what you were feeling now.

No one else in your life had ever made you feel the way that Arthur was making you feel in this very moment, and it made your heart ache all the more because of it. You were so close to him that you could hear the slow, steady beating of his heart in his chest. It sounded more lovely than any song you had ever heard before.

"How ya feelin'?" He asked.

The grumbling of his his deep voice vibrating in his chest sending another shockwave down your spine, but, atleast this time it was for a reason that you actually enjoyed.

You rolled your eyes up to him, looking directly into those crystal blue iris' of his. This was the first time you had ever been this close to him, and you couldn't help but be in awe of him. You admired his chiselled features, and how thick his beard was beginning to get. Any other time you'd stop yourself from doing this, but he seemed to be studying your face just as much as you were his.

You finally sighed, reluctantly peeling your eyes away from the handsome cowboy. "I'm a lot better now. Thank ya, Arthur."

"Don't mention it. I ain't gonna let nothin' happen to ya. Ya already know that." You could feel him shrug as he shifted his arm, moving to rest it flat against the small of your back.

You scoffed playfully, "Yeah." You looked up at him once more, "I think I know that better than 'bout anyone."

"That ya do," he chuckled. "Don't think I'd be lettin' anyone else take my best shirt."

You scoffed at him, "This ratty ol' thing, Arthur?" You were only poking fun at him, and he knew that.

"Hey, don't be talkin' shit 'bout mine. It's keepin' ya warm, ain't it?" He chuckled again, shifting his eyes down to you.

"I won't doubt ya, but I think that's more you, ol' man." You smiled innocently back up at him.

"Who you callin' ol' man, girl?" He squinted his eyes at you in mock offense.

"You," you repeated with a coy smile.

"A'ight then, I'll remember to let ya freeze next time. Maybe one'a them grizzly bears will keep ya warm." He cut his eyes to you again, trying to hold back his smile.

You shook your head at him. "Y'know you'd never let anythin' happen to me, Arthur Morgan."

That familiar smile danced across his lips as he gave you a slow nod. "Well, I can't argue with ya on that one. Yer the pain in my ass that I jus' can't live without."

You both laughed as you laid there, arms still around eachother. It was one of the few moments where the two of you could just let your guards down and be yourselves. And getting to spend this time wrapped in his embrace only made it better. You honestly couldn't think of a moment where you had ever been happier. The two of you locked eyes with eachother once more, both of you seemed to be doing the best to stare into the other's soul, wondering who would ever be the one to make the first move.

"So," you spoke, trying to break up the silence that had set in again, "Mind tellin' me what Dutch's obsession with these O'Driscoll men is?"

Arthur sighed, bringing his hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose as he turned his head to look up at the roof of the tent. "Ehh, it's a long story. We've been at war with 'em boys for years. Colm, the leader, killed Dutch's woman years ago. The only woman I think he ever really loved, an' he's been tryin' to kill that slippery bastard ever since."

"Oh. Well, you can't damn 'em for that. I think I'd wanna kill the person that took someone I love. But, then again, I ain't never found a man I could stand for more than a night." You shrugged.

"That right?" Arthur asked curiously.

You looked up at him, biting down on the inside of you lip. "Perhaps I fancied at least one of 'em."

Of course you were referring to Arthur himself.

"What about you. Why ain't you gotta woman?"

Arthur hummed, his chest heaving slightly at the question. "I did, long time ago. Almost got married, but she didn't want no part'a this life, an' this life is all I ever known, so, that was that. I'm a bad man, an' I know that."

You rolled your eyes at what you were hearing him saying. "You're pullin' my leg, right?"

"What?" He cut his eyes to you.

You grunted, propping yourself up on your elbow to look at him head on. "Arthur, you are one the of the best, most kindest men I ever met."

"She didn't see it that way," he gestured his head, still unconvinced.

"Jesus Christ. Just 'cause some woman disapproves of ya ifestyle don't make you a bad man. Do you think I'm a bad person 'cause I live this life with y'all?" You narrowed your eyes at him.

His lips parted in surprise as he shook his head quickly. "No. 'Course I don't think that. Why'd ya say some shit like'at?"

"To prove my point." You smiled mischievously, knowing you had just got one over on him.

His lips stretched into a thin line, stifling a smile. "I swear, gal."

"Ya know I'm right," you said confidently.

He hummed again, "Hah. Careful, darlin'. Wouldn't want ya gettin' too cocky."

"Yeah, yeah," you giggled.

You were finally able to relax once you were fully warm, thanks to Arthur. He still had his arms slung around you, and he seemed to be just as comfortable as you were. The feeling of his bare skin against you was the epitome of heaven.

"Ah shit," Arthur breathed, finally laying his head back down to the bedroll. "If we're gonna get the jump on them O'Driscolls, we better get some rest."

You had already began to get sleepy once you finally got comfortable. So you had no reason to argue with him about that.

"You're right about that."

"Ya want me to get back on my bedroll, or stay here?" He asked, peering up at you with those blue orbs.

"You can stay right here.. I mean, if youd like?" You asked.

He sighed, giving you a non-chalant shrug as he nestled himself down onto the bedroll. "Ah hell, I'm already comfortable where I am."

You tried to hold back the feverish nip of red at your cheeks, but there was no stopping it now. You gave him a nod, and lowered yourself back down beside him.

"Thank you again."

He turned his head in your direction, giving you a look of sincerity. "Ya don't have to thank me, (Y/N). I'd do it again."

You could feel a warmth in your chest as he spoke. His voice was gruff, but was as smooth as silk whenever he spoke. You couldn't help but smile, and you were convinced there wasn't anything you didn't like about this man. You took in a calming breathe and met his eyes again.

"I know you would. You wanna know why?" you asked as you leaned up once more, surprising him as you laid a kiss on the side of his prickly cheek, the hairs tickling your lips. "That's because you're a good man, Arthur Morgan. And you're gonna know that someday."

He looked at you in shock as a small, shy smirk tugged at the side of his lip as he watched you lower yourself back down beside him. You nuzzled your face against his chest, listening to his heartbeat again, which was beating considerably faster this time.

"Goodnight, Arthur," you whispered in a sleepy tone.

"Goodnight, (Y/N)," he answered back softly.

You could have swore you felt him pull you closer into his chest, wrapping his arm around you just a little tighter as you drifted off to sleep.

[nozomijoestar]

I kinda burned myself out with how hard I focused on these two months ago that it took this long to pick up again. I had an impulse to see them stargaze and then of course it turned into making myself cry ahaha

Once again they’re on the road because I couldn’t think of a better setting but that’s not important; its about the feelings

Trish inspected her nails with the eye of a professional. Night sky or no, nothing, nothing, interrupted her beauty checks. The moon had risen to its peak; the light confirmed her suspicion. She sighed. Her colored polish had degraded from smooth to a ragged patchwork. Oh well, there were worse things to worry about. She looked toward the road behind her. Empty. For some reason her stomach sank. All at once her body tensed to hold itself for danger that took its time. That was the worst kind. Your mind split from your control at the worry the enemy instilled on their own pace. They didn't need to always attack, wait long enough and she'd do it to herself. Trish swallowed hard and breathed out. The night insects kept singing. A few paces ahead Mista lost himself in stretches as he should; his insistence to 'Get off his ass a bit' had dragged them out to Nowheresville, population pending. Buccellati and the rest had gathered around their car. Abbaccio crouched studying Coco Jumbo; which meant poking and prodding and holding the turtle while its legs flailed. She sighed. At least this time she was outside the poor thing. Trish squinted at them through the darkness. Narancia was missing. Of course he was. If you stopped a road trip for so much as a yawn, he'd disappear no doubt slacking off till he wandered back. It was a rule; it was as natural as the wind. Trish wondered how the boy hadn't been born a cat. He had the fickleness down already; time to find him anyway. That was another of nature's laws. He got lost sure, but no matter how she grumbled there she went guiding him back. The grass reached her knees and clung like dozens of pushing hands. Not a tree stood for kilometers; at this distance the moon grew overwhelming. Narancia lay on the grass that'd molded around his body as if it were his bed. His head rested on his crossed arms; Trish would never understand how he did it. How could one person embody freedom? How did he do it when his heart roared in a storm he'd bound emotions to years ago? She should know by now unraveling all of him was no better than holding the breeze. Trish knew he heard her coming. It was the walk he liked to say. Easy as breathing her feet fell into a rich girl's stride. Confident, precise, expectant- Trish wished those were still things she knew instead of their shells. She took a deep breath. No time for that now. Narancia turned his head as she sat. The feel of his eyes made her heart pound for something not worrisome. God, he still didn't know whenever he did that. It was annoying at how easy, it was grounding in a world where up was down and down up. He had her smiling, smiling! And it felt liberating. "There's a bunch of 'em out tonight. You got a favorite?" She looked up and awe drowned the remainders of her gloom. Stars beyond counting dotted the sky; each speck burned to outdo the others. On a clear night they went on and on stretched beyond the horizon. Her eyes snapped to one set with ease. "Orion." "Huh?" "The constellation. Haven't you heard of it?" "Uh, well not really...wasn't around class long enough for that." His eyes flit anywhere but her face; his voice had trailed into something meek. Trish held back a 'Damnnit of course not.' to put her chin on her knees. You didn't ask stuff like that to people who never got past third grade. "Well it's ok Narancia, I'll just teach you a little. That alright?" He sat up to give her his full attention. A grin on his face told her everything was fine. God at this point Trish could do just about anything to him and he'd accommodate; follow and roll over like some dog for her. The realization of power made her queasy not for the first time. That was part of knowing him, being with him. At least for now. She smiled back. "Ok then go on and look at the sky. It always looks like a bunch of stuff smashed together at first. That's where the fun starts. The harder you look eventually you'll find what feels like it's going against the flow; like its part of something all its own." "Hmm...I guess. Geez people must have some killer eyes and nothin' to do all day- y'know, to do this right!" He added the last bit before her frown had settled. With an awkward laugh he mussed his hair. "Alright alright, so I look for the ones that stand out. That's easy. Aerosmith!-" "No Stands. By yourself sure but not with me ok?" "Huh? Why's that- oh..." Trish scooted closer to wrap her arms around his. She rested her head on his shoulder and grinned when he swallowed in awe. A blush colored his face. "Keep going." "Okay. So let's see uhh...there! That one is like a tiny sun. And there's smaller ones that look like they're followin' it an'...a triangle, I think." "That's Sirius, one half of the dog constellations. It's super bright I'm not surprised you found it first." Trish said with a chuckle. "Hey a minute ago I didn't know any of 'em. It ain't bad for a first try." "Liar I did mention Orion." "Oh yeah. Well s'not like I actually saw it. What makes you like that one? Is it cool?" She stared at him in way of open affection no words could capture. It was honesty; it was pure to at last be under a gaze that wouldn't vanish. He could hear her sure, but goddamn if his mind wasn't half lost in savoring what it felt to mean something. To be someone. He tucked a loose hair behind her ear; Trish kept right on though now she smiled again. "A lot of people like Orion since most think its in the shape of a hunter. Y'know, strong and reliable and protective. Things a lot of people want to be; at least to me anyway. I'm not all that different." She again gazed at the sky yet now in the moonlight her profile took on a serene determination. He knew then that he'd be one of the handful in a lifetime to see it. Narancia couldn't help his stillness; the urge that came from somewhere he didn't know to feel humbled. She continued as though she noticed nothing. There was passion in her voice no matter how casual her words. "When I find it at night or even in pictures, mom comes back. Just for a moment, just long enough for me to start crying. I see her in my head and I remember and it's like...like I'm watching my past while I hold my breath then- then it's gone before I can really understand it. The one thing to stay is feeling for a second as if none of this ever happened. As if I'm still back home and she's cooking before calling for me to help. It's...it's so safe." Tears had fallen as she uttered the final words; her tone drifted far, far away and he knew she'd stopped talking to him. Silently Narancia hugged her and welcomed his own, gentler cry. A minute passed where only the wind spoke as it brushed the grass. He could swear her heart raced and skirted danger. When he breathed deep however, it could've well been him. As with many things Trish took the lead and broke the quiet. "I wish I could be Orion. I wish my mom would give it a rest already." Her voice still hadn't recovered its confidence. She leaned into him in search of grasping it once more. "Trish...you are. That time on the plane to Sardegna, you were by yourself and you still got us outta there. I don't wanna think about getting thrown into that meat thing's mouth. A-and I don't have to thanks to you!" Their eyes met this time with an intensity neither could name. Trish shook her head while she rubbed his hand; the roughness that marked his body hadn't pierced who he really was, that kindness he breathed readier than air. Not for the gang alone did he slip into it. For them it was short sighs between the snarls when attitudes clashed. It was like he feared to release it always, to embrace it. But not for her, for her he never hesitated. That was the boy she loved most. He kept chatting and slurred his words as they fought to arrange themselves. She realized how much he noticed in ways she'd been too occupied to see. All the same she interrupted him with a finger on his lips. Trish brushed aside his bangs and spoke again of those things he alone had permission for. "Every time I think I'm getting closer to who I can be, I slide a few steps back. That's all." He wouldn't understand in a way he could yet articulate. She'd long come to accept that. The energy to his eyes took the place of fancy descriptions. He knew it too; it sat as the deepest pain beneath everything. People were participants on life's slippery slope until one day you died. She guessed, in the end, what mattered was which step you'd left on. Forward, or backward? Maybe her mother had stopped on backwards. Maybe she too would. Maybe instead as she studied his face and felt his life beside hers, maybe she wouldn't. And just maybe she could keep him from falling too. "Narancia, kiss me." He did softly and filled with unspoken things. In the now he was here and so was she. She was being silly; this moment was all that mattered. The echoes of shouting in the distance broke them apart. The calls of their names from the others pulled her back to reality. They were on a mission; their lives were fleeting and perishable. It churned her stomach and she reached to embrace Narancia one more time. He was warm despite the night chill. Her fingers dug into his hair as she whispered. "You're safe too." "I...same here Trish." He squeezed her afraid to let go but soon did so anyway. They helped each other stand and refused to let their hands separate. Together they ran towards their friends and answered their calls. They moved forward, ever forward.

[boffeeceans2]

Change Your Life

Chapter Six

Ao3

"Sex and Alcohol doesn't solve anything, Elijah!"

 "You should try it sometime, maybe it'll remove that stick up your ass."

 "You're pathetic!"

 That was the end of the last conversation he had with Beatrice before he decided to take a ride to clear his mind. He was only supposed to be gone for a couple of hours and return before she woke up, but he has been on the road for two days now or more, only stopping to let his horse rest. Elijah should've turned back and he knows it, but he couldn't even if he wanted to.

 He was lost, starving, and broke. But most of all he was mad. Beatrice was able to get over the death of their mother in a week, but he couldn't do that. He did try though, it's what she wanted, to mourn for a week and then move on like nothing happened. Elijah didn't understand how the hell he was supposed to do that. He had tried to distract himself by playing the guitar, but she taught him how to play and it reminded him too much of her, so he moved on to alcohol and sex. It didn't always work, sometimes it just made everything worse. It just made everything worse. But he couldn't stop.

 Elijah focused his eyes on the stars, maybe they could help him find his way back, but he couldn't for the life of him figure out how. Glancing around him, he spotted a river and steered Aphrodite off the road and towards the body of water. He kneeled in front of the water after dismounting and looked at his reflection. He was a mess, His hair more disheveled than usual, the dark circles under his eyes more prominent than ever and his eyes bloodshot from exhaustion or crying he couldn't tell. He splashed some water and his face to wake him up and drank some of it too. 

 But there was something different when he looked at the reflective surface again. There was someone behind him with a gun in their hand, pointed right at the back of his head. Elijah slowly stood up and turned around with his hands raised. He saw two more men by his horse, searching the saddlebags.

 "There's nothin' in there."

 "Quiet," The man in front of him said and reached for Elijah's gun and searched his pockets, but found nothing.

 "No, he's right, Declan. Nothin' of value in here, "One of the men who stood by his horse said.

 The man now known as Declan took a step closer, "How come you can afford such an expensive horse and not have any money?"

 He did have money, just not with him and not enough to buy a horse like that, "Stolen," He answered.

 "So you're a thief."

 Elijah shrugged and grinned, "I try not to take too much pride in my work."

 That seemed to get something like a chuckle out of the other man, "You got family?"

 "No."

 "A gang?"

 "Not anymore, why?"

 "Alright," Declan said, completely ignored Elijah's question, and turned his head to look at the others, "Colin, fetch me that rope."

 Elijah seemed to stay calm on the outside, but he was starting to panic on the inside. He decided to stay quiet, not wanting to aggravate them and get himself killed, even if they might kill him anyway. Colin came over with a rope and Declan started tying the rope around Elijah's wrists. Declan pushed him towards Aphrodite and told him to mount up, Elijah hesitated but did as told with some struggle.

 "What's your name?" Declan asked once he tied Aphrodite's reins to his saddle and mounted his own horse.

 "Wyland," Elijah gave them the first name that popped up in his head.

 "Wyland who?"

 "...Wyland."

 Dumbass.

 "Your name is Wyland Wyland?" Declan asked with a raised brow.

 "Yeah.." Elijah wanted to scratch his neck, but remembered that his hands were tied, "My mother was a… strange woman."

 "Well, Wyland Wyland, Make yourself comfortable 'cause we got quite a ride ahead of us. Try anything stupid and you're dead."

 Elijah sighed and looked up to the sky, the bright stars, and even brighter moon. He should've turned back as soon as the sun started rising for the first time, he shouldn't have left. He should've stayed and talked it out, even if that would most likely lead to them yelling at each other, it always did.

 "Made a damn right fool out of myself now, didn't I, ma?" He whispered, quietly enough for no one but him to hear.

 He closed his eyes and enjoyed the slight breeze that hit his cheeks and ruffled his hair.

 "I'm sorry…"

 ---

 Declan was right, they were in for quite a ride. It had been hours before they even took a break, a break that only lasted ten minutes to let the horses rest. While Declan and Colin were talking between themselves, Elijah got to talking to the one that had been quiet, who was now known as Aiden. He was a likable guy who didn't talk much, that had taken to calling Elijah 'princess'. He asked him not to, multiple times, but he stopped after the third time.

 After some more excruciating hours, they finally decided to set up camp.

 "There's no need for that, I ain't going anywhere," Elijah said while Aiden tied his arms around a tree.

 Aiden walked around to face Elijah once he finished tying his hands together again, he took Elijah's chin between his thumb and index finger and forced him to look in his eyes, "I don't quite trust you yet, princess."

 Elijah expected him to leave after that, but instead, his gaze lingered on Elijah's eye, his right eye to be more specific. Both his eyes were blue-green, however, his right one was almost half brown. "Like what you see?"

 Aiden scoffed and let go of his chin, "Creeps me out."

 The smile that formed on Elijah's face while Aiden walked away couldn't be helped. He watched them drink and chat for a bit before they all turned in for the night, that's when Elijah started to work on the rope around his wrists. They weren't very tight and easy to get loose from, he didn't know if it was because Aiden is horrible at tying knots or if he's actually growing on him. But that didn't matter, he was free. The thought of leaving only crossed his mind for a second, he had nowhere to go and he was curious where they were going to take him.

 Elijah carefully walked over to his horse and hoped the others didn't wake up, he grabbed a pack of cigarettes and a half-empty whiskey bottle before settling back on his spot under the tree. He lit a cigarette and took a long drag, filling his lungs with smoke, and held his breath, savoring the burning feeling in his lungs before slowly exhaling through his nose. He hoped Beatrice was okay, that she didn't do something stupid that would get her killed. He hoped that he would see her again, even though the chance wasn't likely. Hoped that if they saw each other again, she would be able to forgive him.

 Tears were freely streaming down his face by the time he smoked almost all his cigarettes and finished off the whiskey. He didn't try to stop it, knowing it would be a futile attempt. He pulled his legs up to his chest and rested his head on his knees, he let the tears fall and soon drifted into a dreamless sleep.

 ---

 "Wake up."

 Elijah groaned and rolled over, "Five minutes." A kick to his shin made him sit upright and face the person that was bothering him, "I said," He opened his eyes and stared down the barrel of a revolver. "Shit."

 "How the fuck did you get free?" Aiden asked, clearly agitated and a little confused.

 Elijah chuckled, "I hate to break it to you, friend, but you're not great at tying knots."

 "Then why are you still here?"

 He shrugged, "Don't got anywhere to go."

 Aiden nodded and holstered his gun, "Get up."

 "Huh?"

 "You heard me, princess. On your feet."

 Elijah stood up and followed Aiden to the horses, "Where're we goin'?" He asked. Once there, Aiden rummaged through his saddlebag and shoved a fishing pole in Elijah's hands, and kept walking. Elijah continued to follow him, he now knew what they were going to do, but where exactly they were going was still a mystery.

 They arrived at a river after walking for ten to fifteen minutes in complete silence. Aiden tossed Elijah some bait without saying a word. Elijah shrugged, hooked the bait, and cast his line out into the water. He expected Aiden to kill him, with the gun pointed at his head and all, not to go fishing, but it was nice. It was something he knew how to do and enjoyed doing. Also gave him time to think, which he tried to avoid, knowing where that would lead. Instead, he looked out to the water and focused on the fish, reeled one in when it took the bait. He only turned his attention on Aiden when he spoke to him.

 "What happened to your nose?" Aiden asked without taking his eyes off the water.

 Elijah gave him a questioning look, "Where the hell did that come from?"

 "I'm just tryin' to make some small talk."

 "You? Small talk? Who would've guessed."

 "Just tell me already."

 Elijah sighed and briefly touched the scar on his nose, "My sister broke it."

 Aiden gave him a sidelong look, "I thought you didn't have any family."

 "Not anymore," Elijah lied; at least he hoped he did, "Anyway, my sister broke it after I accidentally shot her," He chuckled for a second before continuing, "In my defense, we were running from the law and I thought they found me, but she wouldn't hear any of it and smashed my face into a tree." 

 The laugh that came from Aiden took Elijah by surprise, "Let me guess, little sister?"

 "Twin actually, not that it matters."

 "Sure it doesn't," Aiden said and tossed a fish in the bucket, they got four, which was enough. He picked it up and started back to their little camp. Elijah followed, unlike the walk to the river the silence on the way back was uncomfortable. Colin and Declan were restarting the fire when Elijah and Aiden returned.

 "Why ain't he tied up?" Declan asked upon spotting Elijah.

 "Shut it, Declan, he's one of us now. Ain't ya princess?"

 Elijah hummed in response, being with this lot was better than being alone on the road without a destination.

 "Besides," Aiden started, "He's the one that caught your breakfast." He placed the bucket with fish in front of Declan, who looked pleased with it.

 They cleaned the fish and cooked them over the open fire. A bunch of questions were thrown Elijah's way while they ate, like: 'What happened to your eye?', 'What happened to your family?', 'How long have you been on your own?', and 'How come your first and last name are the same?' Elijah answered some of them truthfully, others were more difficult; he has never been a great liar, but they didn't seem to notice. They packed up and got back on the road after they finished eating.

 The following weeks weren't anything special, they followed the same routine of riding, camping, fishing, and riding again. Elijah started feeling more and more comfortable with the others, causing him to talk on and on about everything and nothing at all. They mostly just let him ramble on, but every now and then they'd get sick of it and tell him to shut up.

 Declan reluctantly gave Elijah his gun back when they decided to rob a homestead, but not without making it very clear that he'd be dead if he tried anything. Elijah felt much better with a gun at his hip and some money in his pockets.

 If Elijah thought it was just going to be the four of them, he was wrong. They met up with a slightly bigger group, apparently, they were all part of a big gang called the O' Driscolls, and now Elijah was as well.

 April turned into May and they found themselves in the grizzlies, where Elijah got to meet the big boss, Colm O' Driscoll. Colm stared at him for longer than Elijah would have liked, almost like he looked familiar. Luckily, Colm didn't say anything and just dismissed him.

 ---

 Elijah stood with his head leaning against Aphrodite's neck, exhausted. He had guard duty all night and now Colm wanted him, Colin, Aiden, and Kieran to ride out to Six Point Cabin. Why he wanted Elijah with him was a mystery, but he wasn't about to complain, it was certainly better than staying in the snow.

 "Wyland," Colin called out, "you comin' or what?"

 "I'll be right there," Elijah answered. He pulled himself up in the saddle and directed his horse to the others.

 Something felt off when he joined them like they were being watched. He quickly looked around but saw nothing, so he just blamed it on the lack of sleep.

 They rode out and Elijah watched how all the white turned into green, happy to be out of the cold. Six Point Cabin wasn't much, but he enjoyed the time he spent there. When he wasn't running small jobs with Aiden he was doing what he did best: drinking, whoring, and forgetting.

 Elijah sat on a log with a working girl on his lap and a beer in his hand. They were about to leave to get some privacy, but a shot rang out, Elijah stumbled backward and tripped over the log as soon as he got up, taking the working girl with him.

 "Men in the camp! Men in the camp!" Someone yelled out.

 "Run and hide if you know what's good for you!" One of the men that invaded their camp said.

 "Stay low and get the hell out of here," Elijah told the working girl. She nodded and quickly scurried out of there. He checked his surroundings, still lying on the ground, there were men dropping dead at every side of him.

 "Princess!"

 Elijah looked at where the voice came from and met Aiden's eyes, who was hiding behind the cabin and gestured for Elijah to come over. Elijah quickly looked around him again before scrambling towards Aiden.

 "How you doin'?" Aiden asked.

 "What do you mean 'how am I doin'?' We're being shot at and they're damn good shots too!"

 "So are you."

 "I'm seeing double here, Aiden. I don't think I'll be able to shoot much of anything."

 Aiden took the gun from Elijah's holster, shoved it in his hands, and turned him around, "Just try!"

 "Goddamnit…" He raised his gun, aimed, and took a deep breath, focusing his vision for just a second and in that second he shot at someone. Almost hit him. But before he could try again, but the man spotted him and shot right back. The bullet flew past Elijah's face, he got back in cover and slumped to the ground.

 "You almost had him!" Aiden said.

 Elijah shot Aiden a look, "I almost lost my goddamn brains!"

 "But you didn't, so try again."

 "No," Elijah said and got to his feet

 "What do you mean 'no'? Where are you goin'?"

 "I don't know about you, but I ain't dyin' today."

 Aiden thought for a second but quickly realized that they weren't going to make it out alive if they didn't leave right that instant. They ran and whistled for their horses as soon as they got out of sight, Aiden waited for his horse while Elijah mounted Aphrodite.

 "Shit." Aiden whistled again, but his horse didn't come.

 "We ain't got time for this," Elijah held his hand out for Aiden, "come on."

 Aiden took his hand and pulled himself up on the back of Elijah's horse. Elijah spurred Aphrodite on and rode off at a gallop, only slowing down when he was sure they were in the clear. The feeling of Aiden's hands on his waist and his breath on his neck made shivers go down Elijah's spine. The shivers were so bad that Aiden noticed.

 "You alright?"

 "I'm fine," He said and steered Aphrodite off the road and into a small clearing, "It's gettin' late, we should rest up."

 They dismounted and Aiden went off to find firewood while Elijah untacked his horse. After that he laid down a bedroll and a blanket, he sat down with his back against the saddle and waited for Aiden to return.

 Elijah had a bottle in his hand when Aiden got back and started the fire. "I barely see you without a drink," Aiden said and sat down next to him. close. too close. Elijah shuffled a bit and took a long swig. "Care to share?"

 He passed the bottle over to Aiden. They talked for a while, mostly about what happened at Six Point Cabin and who the people were that attacked them. Aiden told him that Colm has some history with another gang leader and that it was probably them.

 Time passed and the bottle was almost empty, Elijah took the bottle from Aiden's grip and was about to take the last swig.

 "What do you think you're doin'?" Aiden asked

 "What do you think I'm doin'?" Elijah laughed and brought the bottle back to his lips.

 Aiden laughed as well and reached out for it, but Elijah moved and kept it out of his reach. Aiden didn't give up though, he kept reaching out and getting closer until Elijah was laid on his back and Aiden hovered over him. Before he knew their lips were pressed together. a few seconds passed and they were full-on making out, the bottle completely forgotten. Aiden moved on from Elijah's mouth to his neck. Lower. Unbuttoning Elijah's shirt and leaving kisses on his chest. Lower.

 He knew it was wrong, that people got killed for acts like this, and that it shouldn't feel so goddamn good. Small moans escaped his mouth, heart rate, and breathing quickening. He closed his eyes and got lost in the pleasure, forgot about everything else. for now.

 ---

 Elijah woke up before Aiden, he felt uncomfortable, disgusting, wrong, all of the above. He had to clear his mind, so he got dressed, saddled up Aphrodite, and went out looking for a horse for Aiden because he wasn't going to ride on the same horse after the previous night. He soon found someone alone on the road, threatened him, took his horse, and made his way back.

 "Almost thought you left," Aiden said, now awake and cooking some kind of animal, probably a rabbit, over the fire.

 "Got you a horse."

 Aiden looked up, eyes going from the horse to Elijah, and smiled like the previous night never happened, "Thanks."

 Elijah just nodded and stood against a tree.

 "Want some?" Aiden gestured to the rabid.

 "Not hungry."

 "Your loss." He shrugged.

 Elijah stared into the fire with his arms crossed, he couldn't stop thinking about the previous night, what people might think if they found out. What Beatrice might think if he ever saw her again and she found out, she probably already hated him and this would certainly seal the deal. But what bothered him most of all was how he felt towards Aiden, a feeling in his stomach that he only ever felt with a girl and shouldn't feel with another boy. He wanted to be close to Aiden, but at the same time, he wanted to get as far away as possible. Elijah got pulled out of his thoughts when Aiden put out the fire.

 "We should get goin'," Aiden said.

 "Sure," Elijah said and moved away from the tree, he rolled up the blanket and bedroll and stowed them on his saddle, "Where we goin'?" He asked and turned around just to find out that Aiden was standing extremely close to him. His breathing hitched and he took a step back, his heart started beating faster and that feeling in his stomach returned.

 "I was thinkin' of Hanging Dog Ranch." He looked Elijah over and noticed how tense he was, "Something wrong?"

 "No," He said, intending to end the conversation there, but continued anyway, "Actually, yes."

 "What is it, princess?" Aiden asked and reached to place a hand on Elijah's shoulder, but Elijah didn't let him and slapped his hand away. "This about last night?"

 "What else would it be about?"

 "Did I… did I hurt you?"

 "No, it's just… It can't happen again, you can tell anyone, and please stop calling me Princess. It's Wyland from now on, alright?"

 Aiden was shocked, he thought they had something, something real and good. But clearly, Elijah didn't think the same and it hurt. He sighed and slowly nodded his head, "Alright."

 "Good," Elijah said and mounted his horse, "Lead the way."

 ---

 They rode the whole way to Hanging Dog Ranch in excruciating silence, they didn't even look at each other when they arrived. Aiden didn't even spare Elijah a single glance the following week, while Elijah could barely keep his eyes off him. It was weird, he wanted to stay as far away from him as possible, but at the same time, he wanted to be close to him. He thought about that night every waking minute and it confused him, and being confused made him frustrated, and being frustrated just made him mad, which wasn't going to get him anywhere. They had to talk.

 Elijah looked for Aiden but couldn't find him anywhere and when he asked about him he was met with a shrug or an 'I don't know.' The ranch wasn't that large so it really shouldn't have been that hard to find him. But it was and he was about to give up. Until he saw him. Walking through the trees quite a distance away and Elijah couldn't exactly see his face or anything, but he knew it was him by the way he carried himself. Elijah just stared for a minute before hesitantly taking a step forward, he continued to slowly approach Aiden, every step making his heart pound faster, until he was there, right next to him.

 Aiden stopped and glanced at him, "What do you want?"

 Silence.

 Elijah swallowed, he didn't think he'd get this far, was half expecting to chicken out and turn back halfway.

 "Y'know, if you're just gonna stand there and say nothing you might as well-"

 "How did you know?" Elijah blurted out.

 "What?"

 "How… How did you know that you…"

 "Liked guys." Aiden finished the sentence for him and sighed, "I don't know, guess I always knew. Why?"

 Elijah threw his head back and hit the tree he was leaning against with a loud thud. "I don't know," He groaned, "I'm just so goddamn confused."

 "I think you know."

 "And how do you know that?"

 Aiden moved closer, he raised his hand and waited for Elijah to slap it away like the last time, but he didn't. Aiden rested his thumb on Elijah's cheek and his index finger under his chin, slowly lifting his head and making him look him in the eye, "'Cause someone who doesn't wouldn't've reacted the way you did."

 The distance between them quickly closed and their bodies were pressed together and so were their lips. It didn't take long for the kiss to deepen and grow hungry. Elijah completely melted into it, but Aiden pulled away before it could go any further. He looked down, his eyes on Elijah's crotch, and then looked back up, a playful grin gracing his lips, "I think you know," He repeated and walked away, leaving Elijah flushed and wanting more.

 He thinks he knows. And he thinks he's okay with that.

 ---

 Elijah stayed at Hanging Dog Ranch for another month and a half, in that time he and Aiden got more serious. They often snuck off into the trees or said they were 'going on a job', while in reality they just wanted some privacy, but they still did real jobs to not look suspicious.

 They were just about to sneak out, but Colin came riding in and told them they were needed at Lone Mule Stead. Apparently, Colm had something big planned with that rival gang Aiden told Elijah about. Colin rounded up some more men and they rode out. The ride wasn't long, just an hour or two, but it did feel like it to Elijah. Luckily Aiden was there to keep him entertained.

 Lone Mule Stead wasn't much to look at, just some rundown homestead. What caught Elijah's attention though was the talk about a girl they captured. He already knew that those were the kind of men he ran with, but it still disgusted him, especially the way they talked about her, like she was some kind of object, hoping that Colm would let them have a go at her. But there was more, the feeling like something was wrong. And he heard it. Dutch van der Linde. And he panicked. It couldn't be her, could it? It better not be.

 He quickly dismounted and walked over to the basement where they were keeping her. And then he saw. His sister strung up, shot, beaten, bleeding, and a hand around her throat. He was furious, her eyes met his, they were blurry and unfocused, she looked mad at first sight, but he could see the fear and surprise behind her eyes right before she lost consciousness. Colm held his hand on her throat for a while longer until he was sure she wasn't waking up for now.

 Elijah walked back, he wanted to kill Colm right there and then, but then he'd also get killed and Beatrice would never get out. He stopped at the other side of the house, he dropped to the ground, shaking. He had to do something, but there were too many of them.

 "Hey, you okay?" Aiden knelt down to his level.

 "Does it look like I'm okay?"

 "No, what's wrong?"

 Elijah sighed, he had to tell him the truth. All of it, "I can trust you, right?"

 "Of course."

 "That girl down there is my sister."

 Aiden's eyes widened just a bit before going back to normal, "I thought she was dead."

 "Well clearly she ain't, and my name ain't Wyland Wyland, It's Elijah Morgan." Elijah was glad to get that out, keeping his real name a secret made him feel kind of guilty.

 "Morgan? Heh, you know Arthur Morgan by any chance?" Aiden said with a nervous little laugh, trying to make light of the situation.

 "Not really, but… I'm his son."

 "Jesus Christ."

 Elijah didn't respond, he had to make up a plan to get Beatrice out of there and quick.

 "Hey," Aiden said and placed a hand on Elijah's shoulder, "we're gonna get her out of here."

 "We?" Elijah asked.

 Aiden smiled, "Don't think for a second that I'm gonna let you do this on your own."

 ---

 Two days. It took two days for an opening to get Beatrice out, Colm was gone and took some men with him. There were only five men left keeping guard on the property itself and a few more guarding the road, but they wouldn't be alerted if Aiden and Elijah were able to do this quietly. They each took out two men near the entrance before Aiden went to get Beatrice's stuff and the horses ready. Elijah went to take out the others, one at the side of the house, one by a tree, and the last one in the basement.

 Elijah slowly descended the steps and tried not to make a noise, but of course, the last step had to creak. The man reached for his gun when he turned around, but Elijah was quicker and plunged his knife into his gut. The man grabbed Elijah's wrist and tried to pull the knife out just for it to be pushed further and twisted. Elijah watched the life slowly drain from his eyes and dropped to the ground. He looked at Beatrice, unconscious and just hanging there, she almost looked dead. He pressed two fingers under her jaw and felt a faint pulse.

 "Bee, wake up." He gently tapped her on the cheek, she let out a soft groan and slowly opened her eyes.

 "Eli?"

 "I'm getting you the fuck out of here," He said and started working on the lock. Beatrice let out a soft sigh of relief. Elijah carried her out of the basement and to Aiden and the horses.

 "Help me get her on," Elijah said and passed Beatrice over to Aiden before mounting his horse, Aiden lifted her and Elijah pulled her on the saddle in front of him and wrapped his coat around her.

 "We should come out on a road if we ride to the shore and follow it," Aiden said after mounting his own horse. Elijah nodded and did what Aiden said. "What now?"Aiden asked once they got to the road.

 Elijah shook Beatrice awake again, much to her dismay, "Where we goin'?"

 "Clemens… Point."

 "Follow me," Aiden said.

 They rode in silence, the only noise that was made were the horse's hooves hitting the ground and Elijah occasionally trying to keep Beatrice conscious.

 Aiden stopped, "Into those trees."

 "You're not coming?" Elijah asked.

 "Nah, I assume they'll bury me alive," Aiden chuckled, "Meet me in Valentine, two weeks." Elijah nodded, they both went to ride off but Aiden stopped, "Hey, Princess."

 Elijah turned to look at him, slightly annoyed by the nickname.

 "Good luck."

 "Thanks."

 This time Aiden nodded before riding off at a gallop. Elijah took a deep breath before going through the trees and into the camp. He was met with a girl, "Beatrice!" She said and then met Elijah's eyes, "Who are you?"

 "Doesn't matter," Elijah said, "Just help her."

 More people gathered around, none of the faces familiar, except for one, Dutch van der Linde. Dutch looked at him and he could tell he knew exactly who he was.

 "Charles, go find Arthur," Dutch said

Arthur. Elijah was not looking forward to meeting him. But he had to.

[jenny-kirk]

Story Time with Jenny: Reading

(Micah x Jenny fluff) 

Yeetober day 3

“Whatcha readin’ there precious?” The blonde man approached, a gleam in his eyes and smirk written across his lips. Jenny, quick to throw the leather-bound book within her small hands to one side, couldn't help but look alarmed, embarrassed even.

“Nothin’ need concern you Mr Bell”

Micah had only been with the gang a short while, he was disgusting and repulsive to say the least but fun to flirt irritate. Despite this the two hardly spoke, although, Jenny was learning his cheesy compliments were worth returning for banter’s cause.

 But right now, Jenny wasn’t thinking of such things, a guilty, sheepish look across her face as the brunette subtly tucked the book behind her, an uninterested glare hoping to cast the man away.

“That mine is it?” There it was. Hosea had been helping the girl improve her reading ever since she’d joined. It wasn't perfect but she could at least make out paragraphs...more or less. Occasionally stumbling over her words and giving up. 

Today Miss Kirk had exhausted herself of the books she had ready access to. Jacks were too easy while Dutch only had that ‘Miller crap’ as she called it. So when this small black book was found lying on Micah’s bedroll. Jenny hoped it would at least have pictures or conversations within it and that she’d be able to return it before the grouchy man noticed it was gone.

“Y’know. It ain’t nice to go through people’s things,” tutting Micah’s voice turned cold, threatening. His face twisting to match. It made Jenny uncomfortable as she shifted, eyes darting around camp for her trustworthy friends.

“N’ stealin’! Well...” Kneeling to join Jenny on the blanket she had sprawled out behind a wagon, his croaked voice turned to a harsh whisper, the smell of whiskey and tobacco pungent. 

“Reckon folks like that need be punished.”

He wouldn’t try anything, not in the middle of camp. He’d have to be a complete fool!

The concern in the silent woman’s face was true and blatantly obvious. There was no use disguising it. Fighting rival gangs and the law was one thing, but for all their talk, Jenny stove never to be alone with the man. 

Waiting for the loud obscenities to begin, Miss Kirk was thoroughly confused as a stifled laugh parted the older man’s mouth. 

“Ah, I’m just teasin’. Didn’t know you could read.” Micah chuckled shaking his head, a hand held out for the book, satisfied in discomforting the girl.

“I can't. Not well at least. Guess...” Opening up to this man could only be a mistake but then again it was as she always said, ‘If you accept your faults, can’t no-one use them against you’. 

“Guess I was trying’ to learn.”

“That so?...” 

Jenny watched closely, ready to punch the man in the gut before reaching for her gun, unsure as of what exactly was happening as Micah took a seat next to her with a huff as he hit the hard, cold ground.

“Y’know. I ain’t a monster Miss.”

“Best hope you ain’t. I won’t hesitate to put a bullet between your eyes Mr Bell.”

“Aw now, you don’t mean that. Not with those pretty words you been treating me to.” Although he knew she certainly was capable, such fighting talk merely drew Micah in further to this curious girl.

All the girl could do was shake her head. Book in hand, Micah opened it to a randomised page before pointing his grubby finger towards a small paragraph.

“Go on woman. Read it.”

“You wasn't much help the last time I seem to remember,”

“Quit yer complaining. You got to the end eventually.”

Micah’s gesture threw some water over Jenny in punishment of her scrutiny. The big metal tub lit by a warm dim candlelight across the cabined room was as homely as could be. Knelt by the blonde’s side, was the cheerful brunette, her soft hazel eyes sparking light into his pale ones. 

How things had changed since when the pair had first met...

A book rested thoughtfully on the girl’s baby pink skirt. Still fully dressed, Jenny had been attentively tending to Micah as he bathed. 

He had just scored them an awful lot of money after all.

“Go on. Read to me. See how smart you really is,”

“Hm, with an attitude like that? Why should I?”

Micah bit the inside of his cheek before sighing. They both knew she’d comply in the end. 

“Because you is soft.”

Giving in after a short internalised debate Jenny softly chuckled under her breath, opening the novel and quietly beginning.

“There comes an end to all things; the most...cap-capca-...”

“Pass it here. Capacious.”

“Capacious...measure is filled at last; and this brief con-descen-sion” looking proudly towards Micah, a grin receiving a nod of approval from the relaxed man, his head resting back against the lip of the tub.

“to evil finally destroyed the balance of my soul.” Turning back to the man with a questionable look. “awfully grim isn't it.”

“Mh, gettin’ better ain’t you. Now how's about you bring that pretty face here for a kiss. Can loose that dress while you’re at it~”