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photo1030 · 4 months

Note

Pls do a fic or smthing where readers old guy friend finds her and they reconnect and they’re both crying and Arthur is like who is this and reader is like he’s my closest friend from home I haven’t seen him in ages and Arthur is all jealous kinda

Hi, Kids!

So sorry for the wait. Life has been busy, but I've been plugging away on this one. Thank you so much for this "ask"! This was actually an idea that I had for my regular "Arthur x reader" fic, so I was happy to oblige. I wrote this to coincide with my reg fic and I decided to go more angsty than smutty for this one, so I hope that is OK for the Anon who asked.

**Special thanks to @readingcoco for beta-reading for me. Your help was priceless.

LEATHER AND LACE - SAY HELLO TO AN OLD FRIEND

Summary: Arthur is none too pleased when you run into an old friend from your previous life.

*This is not my image. This belongs to Rafa on Pintrest. Beautiful work there.

Masterlist

Tagging: @daisybvck

The banging of an anvil echoes heavily in your ears, the deafening ringing thumping in your brain. You and Arthur have wandered into the busy town of Cripple Creek to see the local farrier. You have spent the last day hunting and while coming down through the valley pass, your horse, Blue, had thrown a shoe. Never one to neglect your horse, you insisted Arthur take you into the closest town to get him some attention immediately.

Now, Arthur is a firm believer in taking proper care of one’s horse, as a man’s horse means his survival. But the way you fuss over this spoiled animal as if he were your child causes Arthur to just chuckle and shake his head at you.

Coming out of the farrier’s building, you shield the sun from your eyes as you look around at the townspeople. The area seems pleasant enough. It is a depot location for one of the railroad lines, so there is a lot of traffic. People are coming and going, always in a hurry to go somewhere or nowhere. But always in a hurry to get there all the same.

You passed several pungent livestock farms on the way here, but now you can inhale deeply, enjoying the fresh air being pulled into your lungs. A slight breeze kicks up, lifting the soft tendrils of hair that frame your face to sway gently in its wake.

Arthur looks over as he lights his cigarette, amused at how your eyes roll closed and your whole body relaxes in a rare moment of peace and quiet. He really should get you out of that camp more often. Maybe he’ll hold off a bit on returning home, and the two of you can spend some more time alone together.

You can feel the bulk of him leaning in closer to you as his gloved hand runs down your spine to land on the small of your back. “Well, what do ya think? Should we get a room for the night or just rut about in the woods like we usually do?”

Your lips pull into a smile at his suggestion, and when you open your eyes, you are met with Arthur’s twinkling suggestively at you. Your face immediately brightens as you turn your body into him, hands finding their way to his broad chest. Your fingertips play with the upturned collar of his faded black button-down shirt. Giggling with excitement at the idea, you push up onto your tiptoes, your nose flirtatiously inches from his. Arthur’s hands settle comfortably at your hips, his arms enfolding you.

“Y/N? Y/F&LN, is that you?”

A vaguely familiar voice distracts you from answering Arthur’s question, but you can’t quite place it. Turning your head in confusion, you search for the source, and suddenly, your eyes widen with recognition.

“Robert?” Your gaze lands on a tall, slender man making his way through the crowd towards you. He is well-dressed in a blue and gold brocade vest and has auburn hair neatly combed back. He’s sporting more facial hair than you remember, giving him a distinguished look. He’s a bit older now, but you’d recognize that wide, toothy smile anywhere. An unexpected shriek of excitement escapes your lips as your hands slip away from Arthur. “Robert!!”

Arthur stands there dumbfounded as he watches excitement overtake your whole body as you run into the waiting arms of this mystery man. Who in the hell is this person? And why did you just abandon Arthur to embrace him like that? You and this strange man hug each other tightly, laughing and smiling as if God himself had gifted you each other.

“I thought you were dead, Y/N!” the man exclaims, holding you at arm’s length so he can take a good look at you.

“I thought you went to Europe! I thought I’d never see you again!” you laugh incredulously. Shaking your head in wonder, you throw your arms around the man’s neck again.

Arthur stands quietly, eyebrows knitted together, lips pulled into a thin line. He doesn’t like this one bit. The only person he’s ever seen you this excited over is him. Arthur’s fingers tap impatiently along his belt where his hands sit idle, as he waits for you to finish this reunion. Eventually, he clears his throat to try to turn your attention back to him.

Finally remembering yourself, you turn towards Arthur. “Arthur, this is Robert, my best friend.” Arthur’s eye catches how your arm eagerly loops around the man’s elbow. “We knew each other as kids. We grew up together back east!” You continue to gush as you present your old friend to your current lover. “Robert, this is Arthur.” You motion to the mountain of a man standing to your right.

Robert’s face lights up as he boldly strides closer, extending his hand out to shake Arthur’s. “So nice to meet you, Arthur!” His voice chirps with bravado and swagger, instantly making Arthur’s skin crawl. When Arthur doesn’t reply with the same enthusiasm, Robert turns back to you, eyebrows raised with curiosity. “So, is this your…husband?”

A slight giggle comes from your lips at the suggestion. “No, we’re not married. But he is mine.” You smile proudly at Arthur, your hand reaching over and squeezing his. Arthur smiles down at you as his body drifts slightly closer to yours. His strong arm snakes around your waist until you rest protectively against him. When he sees you beaming at him, it sets him at ease a bit with this intruder and he tries to relax a little.

“Robert, is it? Well, Robert, looks like you and Y/N go way back, huh?” Arthur asks, trying not to come off as annoyed as he feels right now.

“Oh boy, do we. We used to get in all kinds of trouble together.” Robert waves his hand in emphasis, then reaches out to tap your arm. “Y/N, remember when we used to sneak out and stay up ‘til 3:00 in the morning?”

You cover your mouth in embarrassment. “God, if my father ever found out what we were up to, he’d have taken a belt to me for sure!” you roll your eyes.

Robert’s dark eyes fall upon you with a sweet and nostalgic look, one held with affection of a time long past. “Used to be you and me, spitting off the edge of the world, right?” He leans over to wrap his arm around your shoulders, pulling you away from Arthur and into his side.

You smile affectionately back at your friend, nodding in agreement. “That’s right. You and me.”

‘You and me’ - The phrase sticks in Arthur’s brain, a phrase you should only be using in reference to him… not some other random fella. His lip curls into a slight sneer of contempt, however, you are too caught up in the camaraderie with your friend to notice.

“We need to catch up! Come on, let’s get a drink and a bite to eat. I want to know everything that’s been going on with you since we last saw each other,” insists Robert, tugging on the sleeve of your white cotton tunic.

“Oh, yes!” You turn towards Arthur. “Can we, Arthur? We have time, don’t we?”

Right now, Arthur wants nothing more than to get you away from this man, this town and everyone else in the world. But he can’t say no to that wishful look on your face. He doesn’t have the heart to crush your hope. That has always been Arthur’s weakness: he can never say no to you.

“Fine, I guess we got some time to spare,” Arthur reluctantly agrees, trying to hide the disdain that threatens to break through his patient facade. You clasp your hands together, giving a little hop of excitement.

The three of you turn to head down the side of the street, with you and Robert chit-chatting incessantly the whole time. As you stroll along, Robert explains how he has become a lawyer and is traveling to California to take care of some estate affairs for a prominent family. He is just stopping for a layover in Cripple Creek to catch a connecting train.

Instead of going to a saloon, you reach a little restaurant along the main strip in town and head inside. Robert orders a bottle of the best liquor the bar has to offer, and you all sit around a table as he proceeds to tell you of all the gossip from back home.

Robert is so animated and full of life and fun, not caring at all about the judgmental looks of others as he loudly tells you anecdote after anecdote. But he’s always been like this. For as long as you’ve known him Robert doesn’t care what anyone thinks and therefore is free to do as he pleases. This is something that you have always loved about him and why you were such good friends when you were younger. He was a breath of fresh air in a stuffy upper-class world. And to be honest, you always had a bit of a crush on him, too.

“So, David and Clare got married, you know,” he smirks. Of course, Robert is referring to your ex-fiance who you were betrothed to, who, as it turned out, was sleeping with your friend the whole time.

“I figured as much,” you reply dismissively.

“Huge obnoxious wedding, of course.” Robert waves his hand with a flourish.

You huff out an unimpressed chuckle. “I figured as much,” you repeat again.

“Wasn’t even six months, and the rumors were flying about his infidelity.” Robert laughs at the absurdity of it. You roll your eyes and take a large swig from your glass. “You dodged a bullet there, my friend.” Robert gives you a wink.

Arthur has to stifle a snicker at the irony of the man’s choice of language.

“Probably should’ve just married you myself,” smiles Robert. The statement makes you blush a bit under Robert’s affectionate gaze. But it is a statement that sets Arthur on edge.

Arthur patiently pretends to listen as you and Robert continue to laugh and joke about old friends and the social scene you left behind, the pair of you growing more and more chummy, until eventually, you find yourself resting a hand on Robert's forearm as you speak. Arthur clenches his fist tightly under the table, his eyes staring at your fingers and watching as they absentmindedly dance along Robert’s arm. It is not intended to be a flirtatious move, as it is a mannerism that you often do when you are excited about what you are talking about. But it is an action that Arthur resents all the same right now.

You try your best to involve Arthur in the conversation but to be frank, you are discussing people and places that he has no frame of reference for. The only thing that does pique his interest is the way Robert keeps referring to you. That certainly has Arthur's attention. But he has to be careful. He can see how happy you are and doesn't want his temper to burst your little bubble. However, if he had his way, he would be grabbing you by the wrist and dragging you to the closest hotel to make you forget your own name, let alone another man's.

Arthur hates that you have this “other language” and bond with someone who is not only outside the gang, but outside his class altogether. He’d forgotten where you came from and what you’d given up to be with the Van Der Linde gang and him along with it. And this conversation with this ghost of your past only confirms it. Arthur tries not to glare at Robert as he takes in the man’s fine clothing and clean hands that have probably never seen a day of labor in his life.

The whole thing is a harsh reminder that Arthur may not only be holding you back in life but actually pushing you down.

“So,” Robert finally turns his attention away from you, ”What do you do for a living, Art?” Robert asks innocently.

The very sound of Robert’s voice makes Arthur bristle. “The name…is Arthur,” he grits out. “And it’s none of your damn business what I do.” At this point, Arthur wants nothing more than to plant his massive fist in this pompous fool’s face.

You instantly pick up on Arthur’s annoyance. You can see his steel blue eyes set hard as his fist clenches around the glass in his hand. Arthur’s head tilts slightly to the side as he watches Robert, and you know from experience that he is measuring the man up. Robert is only being nice, ever the extravert, but he has no idea what sort of man is sitting across from him.

“Easy now, Arthur,” you chuckle nervously as you pat his burly forearm. “Robert is only asking out of curiosity.” Arthur shoots you a look that you can’t quite place. “Arthur does a little bit of everything,” you quickly answer Robert to avoid further awkwardness. “He’s done bounty work, loan collecting, things like that.”

“Interesting,” muses Robert.

“Well, I’d rather be an honest sinner than a lying hypocrite,” asserts Arthur as he levels his gaze across the table at Robert.

“I assume you work with horses quite a bit, too, then?” Robert pushes as his eyes roam up and down over Arthur.

“I do.”

“Figured as much. You seem pretty ‘rough and rugged’ like the cowboys we read about back in the city.” Arthur’s eyebrows knit as his mouth turns into a slight frown. “Oh, I don’t mean anything by it, friend! You look fantastic!” Robert insists. “In fact, I couldn’t be happier for Y/N. Looks like she’s got herself a real man. Those sniveling, uppity simpletons back home were never her type.”

“And I assume you are?” Arthur asks. This causes you to look at him questioningly.

“Me? Oh, no. We were never like that.” Robert waves the comment off, not reading the underlying meaning of Arthur’s question.

“He’s right. Being married to Robert would be like being married to a puppy,” you joke, trying to lighten the ominous mood that Robert is thankfully oblivious to.

“True. But, you have to admit, we would have made quite the pair, wouldn’t we?” Robert leans over and nudges you in the side with that wide smile of his again.

Arthur roughly grabs his glass of whiskey and throws it back, the bitter liquor hitting his throat, before he slams the glass down onto the table.

“What are you gettin’ at, there, Robert? Hmm? You think Y/N would be better off with you than me? Is that it?” The icy stare that Arthur throws at Robert is cold enough to frost the windows of the room. His chiseled jaw sets tightly, his body tense as if about to explode. Your stomach drops as you realize that Robert has indeed crossed a line with Arthur, whether he has intended to or not. And you find yourself at an impasse: do you stand by your man, or do you defend your oldest and dearest friend?

Finally, seeing that Arthur is not amused by his antics, Robert takes the hint and clears his throat nervously. “Well, it has been so wonderful to catch up with you, Y/N!” He stands up from the table and adjusts his vest, running his hand over his hair to make sure everything is still in its place. You and Arthur stand as well in anticipation of the farewell. You are reluctant to say goodbye to your friend, and Arthur is anxious to leave.

The three of you silently file out of the little restaurant together and onto the busy sidewalk.

“I truly hope we can do this again sometime soon, Y/N. Maybe if I swing through these parts again, I’ll reach out.” Robert says hopefully.

“I’d like that, Robert. Please do.” You affectionately place your hand on his arm. “I’ve missed you quite a bit since I’ve been out here.” You give each other a tight hug, one that lasts a bit longer than Arthur’s liking. But then again, Arthur doesn’t like anyone touching you for any reason.

“Arthur, it was a pleasure to meet you.” Robert smiles and sticks his arm out to shake Arthur’s hand again, which he reluctantly does. Arthur’s large hand dwarfs Robert’s as it clamps down extra hard. “Take good care of our girl, yes?”

“Sure,” Arthur deadpans. “Our girl.”

Robert gives you both an awkward smile and turns to head back down the street towards the train depot. Your eyes follow him as your chest feels heavy at having to say goodbye to a part of your past.

When you turn back to Arthur to thank him for his patience, you are met with his hard face.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he snaps.

Sighing in exasperation, you cross your arms over your chest. “Don’t give me that.” You knew this argument was coming.

“Just that you seem awfully close with that Robert fella.” The contempt in Arthur’s voice is not lost on you.

“Well, yeah, he’s my best friend.”

Arthur’s jaw clenches just a bit more at your answer. “Uh-huh.”

Your head tilts slightly to the side, eyes narrowing as you study him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Like I said, you two seem awfully close.” His voice drops low and slow, almost spitting out the words like a spoiled piece of meat.

“That’s because we are. He was the only true friend I had, Arthur.” You shuffle your weight from hip to hip, becoming increasingly uncomfortable under Arthur’s scrutiny. You suddenly feel like one of his marks.

“Uh-huh.” Arthur’s simple responses quickly escalates your annoyance as you watch him pull a cigarette out of his pocket, striking the match on the nearby building with enough force that the wooden stick almost snaps between his fingertips.

“Oh my God, are you jealous?” you ask, disturbed at the turn in the conversation.

“Nope.” Dipping his head down, his eyes are hidden by his dusty, worn hat as his fingers bring the cigarette back up to his lips.

“No?”

“Alright, maybe I am,” he suddenly spins on you, face turning crimson. “Maybe I don’t like how excited you get to see another man. Maybe I don’t like you all laughing and smiling at someone else.”

Your heart begins to pound in your ears, taken aback by his surge of anger. “Arthur-”

“Don’t!” he barks at you. “Just…don’t! I can’t compete with that, and you know it!” He points his finger accusingly at you.

“Arthur, I'm not asking you to compete with anyone! In fact, there’s a reason why I left all that behind.” You step towards him, arms raised to embrace him, but he blocks your hands with his own.

“Save it!” And he storms off, leaving you standing there on the sidewalk. Butterflies swirl in your stomach, leaving you queasy. A storm of guilt, frustration, and yes even anger, rages inside your chest. You wrap your arms around yourself as you try to make sense of what just happened.

“Damn it, Arthur,” you mutter.

—---------------------------------------------------

Rather than chase after him, you decide to leave Arthur be and give him time to cool off. There’s no talking to him when he gets like this, as it usually escalates into a fight if you push it. You feel awful for making him feel bad, as you are well aware of how self-conscious he is. But then again, what about your feelings? You have every right to visit with an old friend and a dear one at that. Yes, you know how it looks. You and Robert always did have a special bond that bordered on the flirtatious side. But you love Arthur. And he knows that. You love him with a depth that could swallow the stars. And you are getting tired of having to constantly prove that to him.

After an hour of wandering the local shops to stall for time, you decide to find Arthur, knowing exactly where you’ll find him. Your boot heels click along the worn floorboard of the porch outside of the saloon. You can hear the chatter and piano music coming from inside. You look through the window, eyes searching for your target. Between the small sea of dusty hats and hulking shoulders, you catch sight of that familiar form that you seek.

Walking into the building, your hands roll over each other, fingers intertwining, as you take a shaky breath when you approach Arthur at the bar. You glide onto the stool beside him, fidgeting slightly to get comfortable. He sits quietly, still brooding with a menacing vibe radiating off of him. You motion to the bartender, who walks over when he catches your eye. “What’ll it be, Miss?”

“A beer, please.”

“Comin’ right up”. It only takes a minute for him to grab a bottle and set it next to the coin you’ve already placed for him. His thick, ready fingers pick it up off the bar top with a pleasant nod of approval as he sets about his previous task.

You spin the bottle between your fingertips, looking at Arthur from the corner of your eye. “So, are we going to talk about this?”

He continues to sulk quietly, lifting a shot of whiskey to his lips and downing it in one. His jaw clenches at the sting of the cheap liquor, but he promptly pours another shot into the diminutive glass, the bottle half empty at this point.

“Alright, fine.” You take a swig of your beer.

“Where’s your ‘friend’?” Arthur grunts without even looking at you.

“Robert is about to get on a train.”

“Mmhmm”.

“Arthur-”

“Alright, look, I’m sorry,” he interupts, slicing his hand through the air as if to end the argument right here. “Please don’t make a big deal outta this.”

“What were you worried about? That I’d run off with Robert?”

“Wouldn’t you?” he blurts out bitterly.

“You can’t be serious?” Your face twists up in shock. He only answers you with a snort of derision. “Arthur, I was excited to see an old friend. That’s all,” you stress emphatically. “You have to remember, I am surrounded by your people, your family, all of the time. This is the first time I’ve seen someone from my previous life.” Your tone unwittingly begins to take on one of annoyance as you try to plead your case. But it is an argument that is falling on deaf and angry ears.

“I’m sorry, I thought the gang was ‘your people’, too,” he bites back. Arthur can be a reasonable man until he is provoked, and then reason doesn’t factor in at all.

“Well, they are,” you backpedal sheepishly at his harshness. Your gaze falters to land on the bottle in your hands before attempting to meet Arthur’s again. “But you know what I mean. You can’t be angry because I was happy to see someone from my life that, heaven forbid, didn’t involve the Van der Linde gang.”

Artur just pouts in silence. You are getting really irritated at this point, but trying to remain calm and not cause a scene.

“So you’d just let me run away with Robert rather than talk to me and ask me to stay with you? Is that it?” you huff.

“Couldn't help but notice how excited you were to hear about everything back home. Almost like you miss it. Pretty damn clear after your little visit today that you don’t even belong here. Maybe you should.” And another shot gets poured into the glass.

Damn it, and there it is. The thing that always seems to be present in your relationship: the idea that you still don’t belong, even after all this time and everything that you’ve done. Arthur still doesn’t see you as “one of them”. And it is a sting that doesn’t sit well with you at all.

Your eyes begin to well up as you try to fight the lump forming in your throat. ”I can’t believe you just said that to me.” Your lips tremble slightly with emotion, a mix of betrayal and anger swirling and bubbling up inside you like one of Pearson’s stews.

The very insinuation is hurtful to you. You have turned your life upside down for the gang and for him. And yet, it seems it will never be enough. It’s as if you are being punished for having a decent life before you were thrust into this new one. You didn’t fit into society back east, and it seems you still don’t fit here either.

“Stop with the theatrics. I ain’t in a mood for it.” Arthur slings back another shot of whiskey.

“You really are an ass sometimes, Arthur,” you stammer in disappointment.

He immediately slams his shot glass down on the bar, shattering it. The action startles you, your eyes shooting wide open. Arthur finally turns to face you now, his eyes burning into you so intensely that it causes you to cringe. You know damn well that you’re not perfect. But, it always made you feel special that Arthur seemed to think so. But the look he’s giving you right now is plain enough for you to know that he no longer believes it.

And the wounded expression on your face enrages Arthur even more. The sight of you cowering like a lamb to slaughter because of his anger is too much. He’s furious at the everything right now: you, Robert, this town, and more importantly, himself. He grabs the whiskey bottle on the counter and whips it at the wall, sending shards of glass flying into the thick smokey air to rain down onto the immediate vicinity.

With your breath shaking, you slowly stand and back away from him. For the first time ever…you are afraid of him.

The tumultuous noise alerts the bartender, who promptly yells at Arthur. “Hey, watch it! You gotta problem, you take it outside! Don’t be causing a ruckus around here!” He shoves his thick, meaty finger towards the doors.

“Mind your own goddamn business ‘fore I give you a problem!” Arthur shouts back, now standing as well, leveling his gaze at the bartender.

With Arthur distracted by the barkeep, you turn and push your way through the now-curious crowd and make a dash for the door.

Your feet clumsily carry you down the steps as you sprint into the street, eyes watering and hands trembling from anger.

“Hey! Hey! (Y/N)!” It doesn’t take long before you hear Arthur’s gravelly voice hollering down the street for you.

“Leave me alone, Arthur!” you shout over your shoulder, not even bothering to turn around. Tears of anger are dangerously close to flowing as you walk even faster, your arms pumping back and forth to propel you further down the road. But Arthur is quick to catch up to you with his long strides.

“Where you goin’?” You can hear him quickly stalking up behind you, his spurs jingling heavily in the dirt of the street.

“Doesn’t matter, right? I don’t belong here, remember?” You throw his words back into his face with such a biting tone. “Maybe I’ll see if there’s a seat next to Robert on the damn train!”

“Like hell you will!” Arthur yanks on your arm, his grip painful like a vice, spinning you around.

But before you can even think clearly, your hand flies as if of its own accord, and you hear the sharp smack land across his cheek, cracking in the air before you feel the sting against your delicate hand. Arthur’s head snaps to the side from the strike, his eyes twisted shut from the impact.

Gasping, your eyes shoot open in shock as your hands immediately cover your mouth. You stand there, silent and trembling. Your chest heaves with broken breathing and choked sobs as you take a few steps back from him. You hate him so much right now. Not because of what he’s said, although that is bad enough, but because he has pushed you to this point. You never, ever want to hurt him. Arthur is dearer to you than life itself. You had never imagined raising a hand or weapon to the man you so desperately love, and yet, he has pushed you, backed you into a corner, to do so.

“Oh…I’m sorry,” you utter, the sound barely a whisper. “I’m so sorry, Arthur.” Your eyes are glossy with unshed tears as your unwavering gaze never leaves his face, waiting with bated breath for his reaction. As you blink rapidly, a tear finally escapes your lower lash to cascade and roll over your hot cheek.

Arthur freezes before his gaze slowly turns back to you. But what he sees shocks him. The very sight of you in your heightened state almost breaks his heart in two. Shame coats his insides as he realizes his jealousy has gotten the best of him. And the pain and fear in your eyes is worse than any bullet to the gut, rocking him to his very core.

Arthur’s expression journeys from one of rage to shock to one of absolute remorse. He says nothing, which begins to terrify you even more. Arthur is known for his temper, even taking his frustrations out on you when needed. You pride yourself on the notion that Arthur may be difficult to handle but never for you. You have always been able to read him, to know his mind better than himself, which is why he relies on you so greatly. You set his world to right when it goes off-kilter. But now, you feel a great divide between you. You stare at him with no idea of what will happen next.

Arthur’s strong arms extend out towards you as a silent apology. But instead of falling into them, you shrink back from him. He halts immediately, turning his palms up in surrender. But slowly, he steps a bit closer to you. Arthur reaches out again, wrapping his hands carefully around your biceps. He can feel you tremble slightly under his fingertips.

Regret sits heavily upon his brow. You can see the self-reproach embedded into his eyes as he stares into yours, searching for forgiveness that he prays you’ll grant him.

Your eyes leave his face, a silent understanding settling between you as you focus on the buttons of his shirt, watching as his chest rises and falls with his calming breath.

With a deep sigh, he silently escorts you into the privacy of the immediate alley, gently pushing you back against the siding of the post office.

“You’re mine.” Arthur does not say this out of anger or possession. Nor has he faltered into a blubbering mess. He simply utters the statement as pure fact, no question.

“Am I?” you stammer. Your eyes lift to search his, looking for any doubt that may still linger.

“You sure as shit are.” Arthur’s voice is low but carries the loving undertone you always take refuge in as the slightest hint of a grin pulls at the corner of his mouth.

“Really? Ten minutes ago, you were ready to let me walk out that door. Told me that I shouldn’t be here.”

Arthur pulls his lips inward at the dismay in your quaking voice. “I shouldn’t ‘ve said that. That was me being a goddamn idiot. But, it is true, ya know. You don’t belong in that gang, Y/N. I keep tellin' ya you’re too good for it. You deserve the finer things in life, things like Robert can give ya.”

Your shoulders fall with a painful sigh as your eyes gently drift shut again. You are so tired of having this same conversation over and over again.

“But,” he continues, “I do want you there. I want you with me. I need you, Y/N. We need you. It’s selfish, I know.” His chin bobs slightly in acknowledgement. “God forgive me, but we do.”

“That’s all I’ve ever wanted, Arthur. I want to belong somewhere. And to someone.” You look at Arthur with an almost desperate expression on your face. Your whole life, you’ve been floating like a leaf in the wind, bobbing about with no particular place to land. You thought you had finally found your place, your home, with the Van Der Linde gang, no matter how unlikely it seemed. And when Arthur threw it back in your face, it was like being pushed off a cliff to free-fall backwards with no one to catch you.

He lifts his rough hand to cup your face, his thumb ghosting over your cheek. “I won’t ever let you go, Y/N. Not ever. Not even if someone else comes along.” Your eyes begin to flutter again as the feeling of his skin on yours reassures you. You wrap your own hands around his wrist, holding his hand in place as you lean your face into his warm palm.

“Arthur, I promise you, you have nothing to worry about. The way you make me feel when I look at you is why I could never look at another.” Your eyes sparkle brightly in earnest, the last of your tears rimmed along your lashes.

He only hesitates a moment before he pulls you close to him. He secures you safely against him where you belong, your chest pressed up against his as powerful arms coil around you to lock you in. Arthur lowers his face to nudge your nose with his before planting his lips to kiss you slow and deep, taking your breath away.

When his lips separate from yours, Arthur briefly rests his forehead on yours before pulling back to look into your face once more. His eyes are intense and reflect a deeper shade of blue than you’ve ever seen. A wolfish grin begins to emerge under that peppered beard stubble as his finger tucks a rogue strand of hair behind your ear.

“Like I said, Y/N, you…are…mine.”

#arthur morgan #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan rdr2 #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #rdr2 fanfic

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strwberri-milk · 2 months

Text

Streaks of Vermillion

Rafayel x Reader || Hurt/Comf || 1, 238 words

a/n: uhh i finished the myths for rafa and thought this thing up and its has referenced death of reader but youre not acc dead i promise its all the set up hurt/comf/rafa feeling so many Things for you

Oh God what he would give to stop seeing that colour on you.

To the God of the Sea, this is the happiest day of his life.

And when he kisses her, he devotes the entire ocean to his beloved.

It couldn’t have been better if he willed it. The sight of you standing in front of him, arms wrapped tightly around his waist as you playfully scold him to not try dropping you into the crystalline azure beneath your feet. He can barely hear it with the blood rushing through his ears, the angelic notes of your voice brushing against him like seaweed against his fingertips.

To surrender his heart to you is a happy thing, he thinks. It wouldn’t change things, not at all. You’ve held his heart in your hands since the day he met you. Your fingers brushed against the surface of his being, shallow ripples drawing the attention of an ever curious younger him. The only thing he knows with confidence from that moment forward was how to love you.

It’s why he’s deluding himself that your voice in his ear isn’t slowly getting weaker, tears staining the side of his throat simply just tears of joy. You were happy, weren’t you? You told him as much constantly, reminding him that he is – no, was – your saviour. It’s why he pretends your normally secure grip on him is loosening, fingers trembling against his shoulders in a way he knows isn’t pleasure.

The hot release of your body coats his fingers, lithe hands unable to turn wrists in the way that you need him to. Instead, he holds you tightly, muttering affectionate words into your ear.

“You’re doing so good for me.”

“Just hang on, just a little longer.”

“That’s it, just like that.”

They burn his throat coming up, butterflies in his stomach pounding incessantly against skin and bone – maybe they’re scales now, he can’t tell.

You gasp in response, a pathetic sounding whimper ringing out and making his stomach drop.

“Rafayel, please,” you plead, stuttering breaths pushing insistently against the column of his throat.

His hand is sticky, blood already beginning to dry in the arid temperatures of the desert. The blade penetrates your body, just shy of the heart you’ve returned to him.

He feels your hand come up to cup his cheek, a reassuring smile still on your face.

“I meant it when I said it Rafayel. My heart is yours. From this life to the next.”

Your body is cold to the touch. He can’t explain why. You were just fine earlier, smiling brightly at him as you tried to convince him to rest. Sunlight streams in through the windows and he thought the rays supposed to keep you warm.

He can’t understand why this is happening to him again, not here, not now.

Scarlet pools underneath your body, Rafayel’s eyes unable to see anything else. His breath catches in his chest, bile rising up in his throat and tainting his breath.

His arms go under your body, recoiling at how warm it is there. He feels your heat slowly dissipating, streaks of read marking his hands and your face. He wills himself not to lose focus, picking you up to try and get you some help. He feels the thudding of his heart pounding heavily against his chest, trying in vain not to throw up at the feeling in his stomach.

He can hear your voice calling to him. His name always sounds so pretty on your tongue and it’s all he can think about before he hears the loud thud of your body hitting the ground.

“Rafayel! What are you doing?!”

Your perplexed expression looks up at him from the ground. He watches you massage the side of your body that hit the ground, grimacing a little.

“Why are your hands so cold? And why didn’t you respond after I started hitting you?!”

“I…I was washing paintbrushes,” he replies numbly, faintly remembering getting up to try and organise some of his supplies.

“The water heater’s been acting up so all the water in the house is ice cold. I forgot.”

Vibrant hues of red and orange dye his room from the setting sun, painting your face and body in them. It takes his eyes a while to readjust to the vibrancy, shaky fingers wanting to reach out and hold you but he can’t be sure this is reality. He looks to his hands, clenching them into fists to try and restore some feeling into the stiff joints.

“Poor thing,” you coo, picking up on the change in his demeanour as you reach out to take his hands and try to warm them up in yours.

“You must be freezing. It’s like there was no blood running to your hands at all.”

You were horribly wrong. There was blood – far too much of it.

Silence envelopes the two of you, something Rafayel was beginning to forget when he found you again. You choose not to let it bother you too much, seeing the somber expression on his face. You’re not sure what to make of it, biting your lip as you try to find the right words to say to him.

“Do you…want to talk about it?” you try after a moment.

“About what?”

Rafayel’s long since turned his attention to an abandoned canvas in front of him. You come up behind him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. He stiffens in your hold for half a second before relaxing, exhaling deeply.

“You’re not normally that spaced out. Do you remember anything?”

He turns to face you for a brief second before looking back to the canvas. You can’t tell if his refusal to answer is because he’s genuinely forgotten or because he’s choosing not to answer you. You decide it’s the former and help him out.

“You were absolutely exhausted so I told you to go take a nap. Then I got tired so I laid down with you. I guess you woke up before I did and went back to your painting. Next thing I know you woke me up with a death grip around my body and proceeded to ignore me until I threw myself out of your arms and onto the floor.”

He remains silent and you find it a little foreboding. Rafayel’s chatty nature was something that endeared him to you. You know it’s a representation of his affection to you and the fact that he’s quiet always means he’s thinking about things. Despite the overly dramatic and whiney personality that Rafayel had you understood well that it was a cover for something he wasn’t yet comfortable enough telling you.

You bury your face in his neck, breathing in the smell of salt and paint mixed in with something unmistakably him. He leans into your touch, showing you that he heard you.

“Is that so?” he says after a bit, suddenly standing up and taking your hand in his.

You find yourself being taken back to his bed, quietly pushed against the sheets and pulled into his arms. You don’t miss the way his hand comes up to rest against your chest, Rafayel’s breath tickling your hair as he takes a deep breath.

“Did you have a nightmare or something?” you try again, ignoring the slight gnawing in your stomach of concern for him.

“Just thought about something I wish I could forget,” he mumbles, mind tiredly counting out the beating of your heart.

#love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace #rafayel x reader #rafayel love and deepspace #rafayel

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thelightsandtheroses · 10 months

Text

Secret Smile: Checks and Balances (Chapter Three)

Secret Smile | Javier Peña x female reader

Summary: Before returning to Colombia to get things right this time, Javi’s childhood best friend asks him to keep an eye out for his sister while they’re both stationed in the embassy. Only you don’t need Javier to keep an eye you her. Your role as a new legal advisor is all about keeping an eye on him after all. Sparks fly, lines will be drawn and broken and there’s everything to lose. Word Count: 3.4k Chapter Warnings: 18+ blog, language, mentions of alcohol, reader has a nickname (Blue) but no physical descriptors used. Author Notes - Thank you for all your comments, reblogs so far - they mean a lot. As always your comments and feedback are deeply appreciated, I’d love to know what you think of the chapter and fic so far. There is a Narcos Easter Egg in this chapter and if anyone catches it, please please let me know by sending me a comment or ask - I am super curious to see if anyone notices it. The gorgeous banner is by @/wildemaven

Chapter Two| Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

If ten years ago you had told your younger self that you’d be working with Javier Peña to bring down a cartel while you were living in Colombia, you would have laughed.

You would have laughed a lot at the sheer absurdity of it all.

You might, however, have thought how great that scenario could be. While Javier was always your brother’s friend and not yours, ten years ago you liked him and would have thought that he’d make a good colleague. He was smart, he was funny and he didn’t make you feel awful every time Rafa also drove you to the mall at the weekend like most of Rafa’s friends did. His other friends acted like there was decades between you rather than just a few years.

If Javier actually wanted you here with him, was open to working with you, perhaps things would be different. It might even feel more like you could have imagined it would.

He doesn’t want you here though; it’s clear he doesn’t want anyone in this role, but also that somehow it’s worse for him that it’s you.

You ended yesterday with a tentative peace but it feels so unsteady, so easily broken.

None of this is what you anticipated when you took this job. You were supposed to be escaping a difficult work environment by leaving the country in the first place. What you had told your friends was an adventure, an experience you needed to have while you still could, is actually turning out to just be a repeat of the same old challenges in a different setting.

The coffee and food’s pretty good though. You wonder if it’s worth it just for that.

Your coffee pot hisses on the gas stove as you make your way up to the kitchen to finish making breakfast. You barely slept last night so you’ve already been up for some time and are planning on getting into the office early.

Your apartment is one of the many the embassy provides for its staff. It’s plain and the furnishings are basic, but you’re comfortable here. You’re based on the ground floor, so you don’t have to worry about the stairs. The main living area walls are a little faded now and the paint colour falls somewhere between orange and peach. The apartment is surprisingly spacious though, however after living in such a small apartment in DC it could just be your perception.

You’ve tried to make it your own by swapping the two dog related sketches hanging in the hall that you couldn’t any make sense of with photos of your loved ones instead. You have a lot of questions for the person who lived here before. Were they dog people? Was it an inside joke perhaps?

If you could stop tripping on the split level, this place would probably be perfect.

The few personal touches you’ve either bought from DC or in your first week in Colombia have helped make it feel homely though. The patterned comforter on the faded leather couch, a few photos of friends and family scattered around, several orchids you fell in love with and foolishly thought would be easy to keep alive.

You take a large gulp of your coffee and take a bite of your eggs, turning the radio on while you finish eating.

You freeze as you hear the newsreader’s words, abandoning your breakfast instantly, before picking up your handbag and walking straight out of your apartment.

This is going to be a mess.

You’re already in Javier’s office when he arrives, sitting cross legged on the black Chesterfield couch, scanning through a file.

You had arrived at the embassy an hour earlier than you usually would. Most people were still at home or on their way in and you were looking forward to the quiet. You’d made a beeline for your office to get ahead of what had happened but Robert, one of the other lawyers, was also already in and you didn’t want him hearing everything.

You went to Javi’s office instead. Thankfully one of the janitors let you in and you had started building a response plan immediately.

This situation with Duffy and Lopez could definitely become the sort of mess you needed to help manage.

You look around at the papers strewn on his desk and you are slightly impressed by the amount of chaos you’ve caused in less than an hour.

Javi looks decidedly irritated by the scene in front of him. You quickly untangle yourself off your seat and stand up, guiltily picking your cup of coffee off his desk.

“Is this a treat I can expect every morning?” he asks lightly.

“Well, the early bird does catch the worm, Javier.”

“Apparently so.” For a second, he sounds so familiar. This isn’t the Agent Peña you met in the ambassador’s office yesterday. This is Javi, Rafael’s best friend. This is the same Javi who waited outside your school with Rafael when you were being bullied and the three of you would walk back to your house together. There’s mischief in his voice and for a second, he sounds younger.

You can’t get lost in memories now though.

”Did you hear about Duffy and Lopez?” you ask, skipping straight to the reason you’re here in his office.

Javier nods, runs a hand through his hair. “It was on the radio as I drove in.”

“I’ve been on the phone already, that’s uh, why I used your office. Robert’s already in mine and I needed privacy. They’re furious, Javi. Please tell me that they notified the police in Cali this was happening. Please?”

“It was a fast-moving opportunity,” he says, wincing at the way your face darkens. “They didn’t. They wouldn’t. Historically we’ve also had issues with that sort of thing, people in other people’s pockets so - this is just how it goes. You’ll learn that along the way.”

“Shit. Okay, we can - we’ll uh, we’ll deal with it. It’s done, can’t change it now. I’ve got some ideas, it’s manageable.”

“So, what do we do here then, Blue? You gonna help me navigate this?” You raise your eyebrows at Javi’s tone. There’s annoyance in his tone but he says your nickname softly. He looks exhausted already, as though he’s been stationed here for a decade as opposed to a day. Perhaps that’s not so far from the truth though. He’s been here before, he spent years here.

“Why else would I be here?” you ask flatly. “I didn’t even get to finish my breakfast this morning. There’s a meeting - actually, you have a meeting in just over an hour with the Colombians and the ambassador. We need to be ready for it. You need to be ready for it, Javi.”

“So, we what? What’s the play? You said you had some ideas, I’ll all ears.”

“I think Duffy and Lopez’s visas are guaranteed to be pulled at this point. That’s probably non-negotiable. I think you’ll have to eat some humble pie, same with the ambassador but that should be enough. It’s the principle, they want to make it clear to both you and the ambassador that they’re running things, not us, okay?”

Javi exhales heavily. “Do you have a cigarette?”

“I don’t smoke. Much. More socially than anything. Rarely.”

Javi raises an eyebrow at you.

“I mean that I don’t have any on me.” You look at Javi’s dejected face. “I’m sorry!”

“This is going to be a great day, isn’t it?”

You smile widely. “That’s more like it, Javi. Keep up that winning attitude!”

Javi walks into your office later that afternoon. After helping him prepare for the meeting with the Ambassador and Vargas, you’ve been pulled into your own meetings, handing off projects you’d started before you were allotted this special assignment.

Several of your colleagues look up at him with a range of expressions from curiosity and admiration to annoyance. Everyone else is packing up for the end of their day but you’re still at your desk. At first you weren’t sure what you were waiting for but now you know.

He looks dejected. That’s the first thing you see. It’s as though all of the air has been sucked out of him; he’s flat. Even his eyes look lifeless somehow.; they’re dull, colder even.

You’ve never seen him like this before; you remember him so differently. He was driven and ambitious, yes, but there wasn’t this visible weight pulling him down. His smile met his eyes back then.

At least, that’s how you remember him.

Javi loosens his tie a little as he leans against your desk; you look at his tie, it’s blue and gold today.

“Rough meeting?” you ask politely, picking your coffee cup up and taking a delicate sip.

“They’re not letting me replace my team in Cali,” he says in a low voice, “Did you know about this? Was this one of your ideas>”

“Oh.”

“Look, it’s bad enough Duffy and Lopez are out. I get why, I’m okay with it. They’re telling me I can’t send any other agents out there though? How do I do my job because I’ve been back less than a week and my agents are questioning me already. Are you gonna help me navigate me that? That’s what I need from you.”

“I’m sure there are reasons,” you say gently. If Javi says the word ‘navigate’ one more time, you think you might kick him, or slap him, or spill your coffee on him. No, no, you wouldn’t waste your coffee, even if it is bad quality.

“Yeah, the reason is that they don’t want any of this. You do realise what you’re here for, don’t you? This assignment, what they want from you … it’s to block me.“

You scowl. “I’m not blocking anyone, Javier. I’m just here to help and to ensure everything is by the books, watertight so that we have a strong case when we extradite them.”

“You actually believe that?” he asks, an incredulous expression on his face.

You falter slightly. You did believe that - you want to continue to believe that, but if you’re honest you’re not so sure anymore.

“I do,” you say, smiling tightly.

“By the book. You think they’re playing by the book? Do you know how all the checks and balances work down here? The Cali cartel are negotiating a surrender with no consequences. It’s a negotiation where they have all the bargaining power, that seem right to you?”

“You can’t pretend that rules don’t matter, that checks and balances are irrelevant. It’s not how it works.”

“I didn’t say that,” Javi says, shaking his head.

Rules matter to you. It might sound uptight and inflexible, but there’s a system for a reason. Your whole career has been about upholding standards, about ensuring that justice is obtained when rules are broken. You’re not quite as evangelical about it as some of the people you went to law school with, but this matters to you.

It matters because you know what it’s like when those checks and balances don’t matter; when rules are taken as loose guidance or stretched and exploited until they break. You carry those invisible scars from DC, coupled with the complete sense of failure that the rules hadn’t mattered. Not in that scenario, not when it what came to it.

Maybe Javi’s right.

“It’ll be by the book,” Javi says gently, looking at you with all of his attention. “But I can’t guarantee they’re out there doing the same thing.”

He’s standing so close to you right now. You can smell the sharp mint on his breath, either gum or those tiny solid mints you get a tin. You’re not sure which it is; which one of the two is most like Javi anymore. The mint is clearly to mask something, not alcohol, but you can just about make out lingering traces of cigarette smoke following him too.

“What do you mean?” you ask, a growing sense of dread constricting around your stomach like vines.

“What do you know about what’s happened in Yumbo?” he asks in a low voice.

There’s a small TV in the office. The local news plays in the background; the calm intonations of the newsreader fading into white noise.

You look over to see footage of Cali and walk closer so you can hear the report. This is the tragedy Javi told you about.

The cause was a gas leak?

No, because Javi told you that the journalist who approached him had indicated it was the Cali cartel. Why would the inspector say this though?

You left DC for a reason. For many reasons actually. If there is one thing that would affect you it’s a cover up, it’s deliberately concealing the truth. You can’t take watching a miscarriage of justice before you; that’s not why you got into law.

Javi’s right. The Rodriguez brothers, all of them, they need to be held to account, to justice.

You don’t want to be the blocker; you don’t want to be the person bought in to stop justice being served. You thought this role would be about ensuring a watertight case, one that would get justice.

No. No, this is not what you signed up for. This is not what you were promised.

Javi’s right about something else too - you’re naive. It surprises you. You thought the years of legal work, of life experience would have altered that, but clearly it hasn’t.

It’s time to change things.

You neatly stack the paperwork and lock it in your desk, before sweeping your Filofax and assorted pens into your handbag.

You need a plan.

You need to find a way to fix this.

You remind him of home.

Laredo hasn’t felt like home in years, but it transpires you can’t escape your hometown. Javi laughs bitterly; turns out that he can’t even escape his hometown more than two thousand miles away.

It’s not that home is Laredo. You don’t just remind him of there; you remind him of who he was before. Before the DEA, before Escobar, hell before Lorraine even.

It’s unspeakably cruel that you’re the one who has been bought in to ruin his chances of getting this one right.

Talking to Stechner in the bar made it clear; he’s here as decoration. Agent Peña; the man who helped bring down Escobar and will therefore add weight to the legitimacy of these negotiations. There’ll be no police work, no actual justice.

If there were any justice in the world, Javier, you’d be in jail.

Stechner’s words haunt him, continually replay in his mind. That whole exchange rendered Javi too much like his old self. Less than forty-eight hours in Colombia and he’d started smoking again, slept with an intern, all his plans lay in ash.

It became worse when he spoke to Martinez after the meeting about Duffy and Lopez. Martinez made it clear that he’d helped create this problem.

Javi lights a cigarette, moves from the couch to the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water.

This is such a fucking mess already.

He’s taken aback by the sound of someone knocking on the door. Automatically he grabs his sidearm from the coffee table, holding it low as he moves to the front door.

“Javi?” a familiar voice asks.

Javi opens the door, placing his gun down on the hallway table.

“Really?” you ask, watching the scene from the doorway with raised eyebrows.

“How’d you know where I live?” he asks, returning to the doorway and tapping his fingers on top of the door jamb as he leans against the doorframe.

“I may have access to paperwork,” you say, a slightly shifty expression on your face. “They have a few of the attachés housed in this building, I think.”

“That is kind of creepy, Blue. Just turning up like this and looking at paperwork and -”

“Shut up. Please shut up.”

“If I just turned up -”

“I’m leaving,” you say, lips pursed together with annoyance or frustration.

Javi smiles in spite of himself, reaches out to touch your arm. He can smell your perfume; crisp and bright. Citrus and sharp notes rather than the softer vanilla and gourmand perfumes he’s used to. It suits you.

“It’s fine.”

He holds the door open for you, lets you walk right into his apartment. He notices how you scan the space around you, brush imaginary dust off your clothes.

You’ve changed since the office; you’re dressed more casually. A loose t-shirt with a band logo, jeans and sandals. You look younger, more how he remembers you. He’d always been Rafa’s friend, not yours, but sometimes you’d talk to him when he was waiting for Rafa or if you bumped into him in town.

You used to be like that; friendly. Your childhood nickname of Blue was a reference to the flowers you loved as a child, and it wasn’t just bluebonnets, it was any flowers at one point. It was a misnomer though, a joke on a joke, because you’d never seemed morose when you were young. You were always cheerful, optimistic, almost unfailingly positive. Even now, Javi sees that brightness in you, a little duller, a little dampened by time. It’s still there though, shining through layers of bureaucracy.

“So, what’s going on?” he asks. He wonders if you’ve heard about him sending that agent and his partner to Cali, if you’ve come all this way to admonish him.

He braces himself for the criticism, for the scolding at breaching processes, at not telling you. He had to do something though.

“You were right.”

Javi doesn’t skip a beat, manages to hide his surprise. “Obviously. So, you came all this way to tell me that?”

“I -”

“What was I right about again, cariño?” he asks, aiming for lazy disinterest but genuinely curious.

“They want me to block you. They’re working on the surrender and the gas thing - they just covered it up, Javi. People died. Children died, and hundreds got sick and it’s just swept under the carpet? The Cali cartel face no consequences for this? I - they just surrender and no one knows?”

Javi doesn’t say anything. He’s not entirely sure what your play is, if you’re testing him or if what you are saying is genuine.

You look wrecked though; he can see the frustration and despair in your eyes, a familiar expression he’s faced in the mirror more than once since he joined the DEA.

It’s real. It’s real, or you’re the best damn actress he’s ever met.

“You must hate me.”

“Nah, not really. It’s - maybe I need someone to help keep me in the lines.” If he had had you a few years ago, maybe Cali wouldn’t be in the same place right now. Martinez’ words earlier, the way he looked at Javi, repeat again and again in his mind.

When you sell your soul to the devil, you’re not allowed to ask for it back.

Javi needs to stop the Cali cartel, to arrest the godfathers, to prove it can be done and that justice, justice will matter. He thinks it might be the only way he’ll know peace right now. He’s trying, he’s trying so fucking hard to make it right this time.

If they let him. Hell, if you let him. They even chose a ghost from home to be the person who’s there to block him, stop him. Javi swears it’s deliberate.

“What did you say earlier? Checks and balances matter. That’s right too.”

“Oh, because I’ve been thinking and it’s all fucked up. I think we need to still - people need to see them in handcuffs, through the system, that’s what’s needed.”

“Okay,” Javi says, unsure of where you’re taking this, certain he’s misunderstanding the message between your words.

“And it does matter, doing this right does matter. You and me, we make this watertight, by the book, but we have to get them, Javi. We have to get them.”

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namorslutfanfiction · 1 year

Note

1 & 15 with our curly haired beauty Rafa maybe?👀

Here's 1

"Tell me you love me." Rafa's whisper was desperate. He'd cornered you at your nephews birthday party. The party goers were focused on the kids and of course Felix had his own things to worry about. He didn't need to find out that his best friend and his sister were currently in a closet somewhere.

"Rafa, let's not do this here. I can visit you at your place tomorrow. But please please don't do this right now." You pushed the narco away from you. He looked angry but also more sad than you had ever seen them. You were frustrated and also felt slightly guilty but you ignored that.

"You really don't love me do you? Was I just your way of getting back at your brother?" Rafa looked like he had just had an epiphany and started laughing. "We've been doing this for a year! A year of hiding and running around and all the things you said we were going to do together. I killed people for you!"

"You act like I was the only one manipulating people Rafa. I know you only started fucking me to get back at that rich brat Sofia. You could honestly have done better, Rafa." You shot back.

"That was only in the beginning. I haven't given a shit about Sofia since that first night we slept together," Rafa softened again.

It was infuriating how your heart ached for him. It wasn't supposed to have gotten this far and for this long. "Rafa, I do care about you. But this is not the place for us to figure out whatever we are. There's something big happening with my brother and I don't want you to get involved."

"I'm his partner, of course I'm involved," Rafa shot back, frustration evident.

"Do you know he's trying to get into cocaine transport?" You asked him, expecting the surprise that took over his face. "You aren't that close to him anymore. I don't want him finding out about us because it might give him another reason to push you out."

Rafa leaned up against the door of the closet, contemplating what he had just heard. You watched him realize what Felix's new business venture would mean for him and his weed. You cupped his cheek and met his gaze. "Fucking with you may have started because I knew it would annoy Felix the most. But do you really think I would have kept this going for so long if I didn't have a reason."

You kissed him softly and he instinctively returned the kiss. You pulled away and held his face in your hands. "Before Felix finds out about us I need to make sure that your weed will be able to stand on its own without my brother's focus. I'm protecting you, do you understand?"

"Look me in the eyes this time and say you don't feel anything for me or tell me you love me. One or the other," Rafa insisted, not believing you.

You looked at him, taking in the handsome man who had been part of your life longer than anyone but your brother. The man you had grown so close to in the past year despite all your efforts to stay detached. You knew you had hurt him as you led him on. Glued to his side one week then off doing who knows what the next. You'd treat him better eventually, when you knew he was safe. But you would give him something to cling to. "I love you, Rafael Caro Quintero. And I will show you just how much tomorrow when I visit your home. But today I need to go out there and celebrate my nephew's birthday."

You pulled him down by his lapel for a heated and passionate kiss that left Rafa out of breath and trying to kiss you again. You pushed him away, "I'll leave first. Wait 5 minutes before you leave the closet. I will see you tomorrow, mi amor."

Rafa stole another kiss, his demeanor now happier and giddy and so in love, "I'll do whatever you want, bonita. I can't wait until tomorrow."

You hesitated at the door and turned to him one last time, "I promise you, Rafa, we'll be together in the open, soon. Just wait for me, okay. Te amo."

With those words you left the closet and didn't turn back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Here's 15 SMUT

You couldn't help but gasp as Rafa kissed his way down your body. You wanted more than anything to thread your fingers through his hair and hold him close. You pulled at the ropes that tied you to the bed to no avail.

When Rafa settled between your legs and ran the flat of his tongue up your slit you struggled to stifle the moan. He laid his head on your inner thigh and with the barest tip of his finger grazed your sensitive skin, pulling away as you tried to rock into his touch. You looked down at him regretting letting him do this.

He had insisted that he wanted to try being in control. Rafa was normally so welcoming to your need to tease and play with him. You experimented but your love making always leant toward your dominant side. But he'd gotten it into his head, for some reason, that he wanted to tie you up and have his way with you. So here you were, tied to your large bed, naked and spread like an eagle for him to have his way with.

Rafa straddled your thigh, cupping your pussy with one hand as he leaned over you and nipped at your nipple. He was still fully dressed and you were craving his skin on yours. You mewled as he laved at your breasts and finally dipped a finger inside of you. He was smiling as he rutted against your thigh, his hard on pressing into you.

You watched him as he pulled his finger from you and stuck it in his mouth. He made a show of licking it clean before he unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it aside. The dark man was still slowly rutting against your thigh as you squirmed for more friction between your legs. Rafa smiled at you as he glided his fingers along your torso, cupping your breasts. "You look so needy, baby. I like it."

You gasped when he wrapped a hand around your throat and found your clit with the other. He drew languid circles around the nub, pulled away, then did it again, teasing you mercilessly. You moaned in frustration, "I think I liked you better when you were on your knees and begging for mercy."

Rafa chuckled loudly as he muffled your comment with his lips. You were savoring the taste of his tongue when you felt him unbuckle his pants. When he pulled away and leant back on his knees you could see his hard cock now out in the open. You watched him step off the bed and kick off his jeans. Followed by him moving to each of your ankles and untying them.

You didn't move, unsure of what was coming but you were eager for whatever it was. His fingertips danced along your legs as he crawled back up the bed. You breathed out his name, begging him with your eyes for more. Rafa hovered over you, whispering words of adoration as he covered your face, neck, and shoulders with kisses. You felt him untie one of your hands from the bedpost but keep the rope around your wrist.

"Turn, mi amor," He whispered as he guided you. Rafa untied your other wrist but as you turned he pulled your wrists together and tied them to each other behind your back. You were surprised that he chose this but you didn't bother to ask as he distracted you with more kisses and caresses.

The narco's cock was nudging at your pussy as he pulled you up to a kneeling position. He kept your torso up by a firm hand on your tied wrists and his hand cupping the front of your throat. You felt totally at his mercy as he slid his cock home. He fucked you viciously, spanking you as he thrust into you at a punishing pace. It had never been like this before. So brutal and animalistic and all consuming. Your orgasms hit you one after the other as Rafa used you. You could do nothing but take all that he gave you.

By the time you were nestled in his arms, barely conscious as he pulled you close and showered you with kisses and 'I love you's, you had no more regrets. Maybe you'd have to let him have control more often. You were sore, a mess between your legs, and completely and utterly satisfied.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you for playing!

Review, reply, reblog!

#Blurbs #ask game #short fic #rafa caro quintero #rafa caro x reader #rafa caro quintero x reader #narcos mexico

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slvtrlv · 1 year

Note

hi!

please can i request

1. "you look better in my clothes than i do."

with rafael barba 🥰

~ RAIN. STREET. NIGHT ~

Relationship: Rafael Barba x Female Reader.

Warning: none just a fluff.

Words: ???

A/N: hi, I hope you like it :3

______________________________________

I've always loved the rain. But not when it starts at the most inappropriate moment.

Now I'm running into the apartment after another hard day, besides, I'm all wet after a heavy downpour.

Water drips down my hair and rolls into the neck area, from which I shudder and billions of goosebumps run, from which the trembling in the body increases.

- Damn this rain - I mutter to myself, taking off my sneakers, leaning my hand against the wall so as not to fall into a puddle of water that formed due to my wet clothes.

Rafi has not come yet, although it is already 10 o'clock in the evening. Of course, he told me about a new case that their company is working on at the moment, so our apartment is used to the late arrival of its owners.

I take off my outerwear and carefully tiptoe through the living room to the bedroom to take a hot bath and change clothes.

Strange as it may seem, but the first time I met Rafael was in such weather. It was pouring rain outside, and I was waiting for my bus at the bus stop and the only thing that saved me from the rain was the only tree on the whole damn street. Its leaves have almost all fallen off and only a couple of leaves protected me as best they could, and the bus still did not go. Desperate, I was about to go on, and just at that moment I felt that the rain had stopped coming, well, how to say, the drops were still hitting the puddles. I raised my head and saw an umbrella over me, and a man next to me.

- I don't want to bother you, but I don't think bus will come at such a late hour, – said the stranger. His voice immediately sent warmth through my entire body.

- Well.... What time is it now? - I asked, unable to take my eyes off his.

- It's almost midnight - the man replied. – I'm Rafael.

- Midnight? - I ask, surprised. Although knowing my friend, with whom we can talk non-stop, I shouldn't have been surprised.

- Yeap – God, if we are all your children, then Rafael is definitely your most beloved son.

- I'm Y/N - I say softly, holding out my hand to him.

- Nice to meet you, Y/N – he shakes my hand, which makes me think that absolutely his whole body radiates warmth: his eyes, his smile, his hands.....

- Here take this, otherwise you'll freeze completely – he hands me his sweater. And the only thing I feel is the soft material of the sweater and the amazing cologne.

- Thank you – I answer him, wrapping myself in the sweater more tightly.

That's how we met.

Taking off my clothes and throwing it outside, I went into the bathroom. I turn on the water and.... Cold. Wait… It's a hot water faucet....I turn the faucet in the other direction and there is also cold water.

- Great.... Just wonderful. Now I will definitely shake myself to death from cold and damp – I spread my hands comically, sigh heavily and go to the bedroom to find something that will help me warm up.

Sweater. The same sweater. His.

It is still as soft and pleasant as it was that night.

Rain. Street. Night. And he.

I wrap myself up in it as much as possible, and move into bed to warm up. Without noticing, I fell asleep.

- Honey – I hear a quiet whisper.

- Rafa – I answer half-asleep and open my eyes. The darkness does not allow me to see his face, but I know every detail of him even without the light.

- I'm sorry, I didn't want to wake you up, you were sleeping so sweetly – he runs his hand through my hair and kissed me on the head.

- It’s okay, I wanted to wait for you, but I fell asleep – I stretch out my arms to him so that he would join me.

Rafa succumbs to my charms and crawls onto the bed. Comfortably placed.

I am under the blanket, hugging his torso and putting my head on his shoulder and he is hugging me with his left arm around my waist, and with his right arm around my shoulder.

- Is this my sweater? - he grins.

- Yes

- Why?

- I was returning from work when it started to rain. I wanted to take a bath, but there was no hot water, so I had to put on your sweater – I answer him.

- Is that all?

- Of course not, I remembered the day when we met, I was also soaked and frozen to the bone. How you gave me, a stranger, your sweater and how this day brought you and me what we have now – I feel movement from his side and lift my head.

- You look better in my clothes than i do – Rafa kisses me on the cheek and nuzzles my neck – Always.

- I love you – I answer him stroking his hair.

- I love you too, Y/N – looking into my eyes, he says and kisses me on the lips.

For the sake of such moments, I am ready to catch raindrops every day, so that I can wrap myself in his clothes and his warm body.

#rafael barba #rafael barba x female reader #law and order svu #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba x you

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beecastle · 1 year

Text

Chocolate Cake

You meet Frankie and his kid during a grocery run

Frankie Morales x F!Reader

Word count: 1k

Warnings: talks about birthdays, Reader's favorite cake is chocolate, Frankie's kid is in this, first meetings

A/N: Had this one in my drafts for a long time, this is meant to be the beginning of a longer fic but right now it can be read as a stand-alone.

MASTERLIST

Love resembles a double-edged sword, the likelihood of it healing or hurting an individual is about the same, getting one or the other is solely a matter of luck. Those words acquired more sense the day you meet a handsome and quiet man during a grocery run.

There is one item left on the shopping list, just one and you’re gonna be able to head home to become a blanket burrito while binge-watching the new season of your favorite show. Said item is a chocolate cake mix.

Between changing jobs and moving into a new city, celebrating your birthday hasn’t been at the top of your priority list, still, this felt like a big number and you don’t want to glance over it completely, you can have a small celebration by yourself. And for that, you need to bake a cake.

You locate the aisle where the baking ingredients are sitting, but after multiple searches, you’re unable to locate the exact brand you’re looking for, the one your mom used to make every single birthday.

Maybe it’s better if you give up and head home, you can always get something from the bakery down the street. Just as you’re about to abandon the mission, one of the store workers rushes past you and places the box you have been looking for on one of the shelves. Someone must have returned it, and just in time.

Parking your shopping cart on the side of the aisle you walk towards the cake mix. You’re laser focus on it and as your hand closes around the box, someone else grabs it by the other side. The hand is big, its fingers brushing yours across the box. You follow the limb to its owner to find a man who looks just as surprised as you by the encounter. His chestnut curls are hidden by a black cap, and his facial hair consists of a mustache and a patchy beard. He’s wearing a shirt with a flannel thrown over it. You find yourself asking silently who gave him the right to look that good in that outfit?

Next to him stands a small girl, maybe 5 or 6, who is cocking her head to the side in curiosity, probably expecting to see how this plays out. She’s dressed in a rainbow tutu and a shirt that depicts a unicorn covered in glitter, and to top everything off she’s wearing a big bow on her hair, which resembles the man’s both in color and texture.

“I’m sorry miss,” he says once he has analyzed the situation, yet his fingers hover over yours for a second longer after he has finished talking. “Please take it.” He motions to the cake mix much to the little girl’s dismay, and she doesn’t take long to voice it.

“But what about my birthday cake?”

The man crouches down to get on her level and places one of his hands on her cheek with softness you wouldn’t have thought he was capable of.

“It’s okay amor, we’ll go to another store or ask if they have more in the back.”

The kid doesn’t seem too convinced but she nods, deciding to trust the man’s words. But you can’t take the box knowing they could go without it.

“Oh, no, please, it’s not urgent, I can look for another flavor,” you insist handing the kid the box. “The birthday girl should have her cake.” She is quick to take it from you and put it in their shopping cart.

“Thank you,” the man shoots you a small and sweet smile as he stands up, a dimple barely showing on his cheek. Before you can answer him, the girl moves in front of you and starts jumping up and down, clearly excited about something.

“We are getting pre-birthday ice cream after this!” She tells you with a grin, her own dimples shining on her face. “I’m Rafa and this is my dad Frankie.” She takes the borders of her tutu and does a small bow. You tell her your name mimicking her bow. You turn around and head towards your shopping car believing the interaction to be over but she keeps walking alongside you.

“Did you want to bake the cake for a birthday too?” she asks as she peeks into your shopping cart, and holds up a tomato. “You really like tomatoes?”

“I was gonna bake it for my birthday.” She extends the tomato to you with a that’s yucky face, and you place it back in your cart before leaning in as if you are going to tell her a secret. “And I prefer ketchup.”

She nods solemnly agreeing with your take on food. “So we share a birthday?”

“It appears we do.”

The man stops with his own cart next to yours and shoots you an apologetic smile as he takes her daughter’s hand and gives you a polite nod.

“Let’s go pay for this amor.”

Rafa is about to follow her dad but freezes a second later. “Wait daddy! Can she come to get ice cream with us?” She looks back between him and you. “Her birthday is tomorrow!” she adds as if that was a perfectly logical reason to invite a complete stranger to join you, and perhaps in the mind of the child, where social norms don’t apply just yet, it was.

You can see the gears turning in the man’s brain as he tries to find a way to tell his child that this is probably not a good idea without making either you or him look bad.

“I’m sure she has other things to do,” he tries but Rafa’s not having it.

“Pleaseeeeeee,” she looks between you and between him with the biggest puppy eyes, and you suspect this is a trick she employs quite often on her father as the man falls for it quickly. He scratches the back of his head and looks at you for help, but the puppy eyes have worked on you too, and you find yourself without words to refuse the girl’s offer.

“If your dad is okay with it I wouldn’t mind going.” Much to your surprise, this puts a smile on the man’s face. The girl looks at her father waiting for his answer.

“Sure, let’s do it.”

#frankie morales #francisco morales #triple frontier #pedro pascal #frankie morales x reader

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quincyhorst · 9 months

Text

Inazuma Eleven Whiteboard but make it Red Matador

Ok. To give some context. Yesterday, tumblr user @ // marmolao opened up a public Ina11 whiteboard. It seemed pretty fun, even if I was a bit afraid at first of joining.

...But then the impulses won, and I drew Redomata's best duo :') (Plus an autism creature to warmup).

I thought Pedro and Igor would be lonely here at first, but then............... This Rafael appeared. So beautiful, I love it 😭🦇

I replied to it with some other RM defenders (?

"LOOK TONI, A VAMPIRE!!!"

"José, its the 30th time you've made vampure jokes with Rafa, leave him alone"

I left for a while, AND THEN I GOT SURPRISED WITH THIS HUGE QUERARDO ART AAAAAAA 🦁💖

"SHUT UP EVERYONE, I DON'T HEAR MY ESPAÑITA'S HYMN"

I would have put like 23091234 reaction images but the truth is I was on a hurry so I replied the best way I can. With cute animals :3

Oh btw apparently somebody wants to turn him into a furry bc of my lion doodle. If a furry Que appears by your dash, then I'm proud to be the reason why <3

In other news, I also found a doodle by @ // eky11 - @ // eky-13 about Joan. 🫡

And as somebody who is researcing about Catalunya/Valencia/Baleric Islands... I got an idea for a reply :3

"Me and the bros speaking in Catalan to confuse everyone else in the team"

...There's also this other Rafael too:

"The only one on the team who says -illo" (Andalusian dialect)

At the moment I'm queuing this, I'm making some more doodles, as I officially have the mission to draw EVERYONE from Redomata here 💪 If any other doodles appear, I'll put them on a separate post, but that's it for now.

Thank you for anyone who has filled this corner with such beautiful art!!! It makes my day so much 💕💕💕 Because the whiteboard is anonymous I cannot see who made each doodle, BUUUUT if you want to claim credit for anything here just hmu :D I'd love to mention you!

Oh, and if anyone else is interested on joining...

#inazuma eleven #red matador #pedro moreno #igor freire #rafael lópez #querardo naval #joan nadal #tagging everyone who has appeared here so far

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kaminocasey · 2 years

Text

A Glimpse of Us

Summary: You thought Rex was killed in action. You tried to move on with Hunter. Rex comes back and you question if you've really moved on.

Pairing: Hunter x Reader, Rex x Reader

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI; Angst, mentions of death

WC: 3K

A/N: I heard the song "A Glimpse of Us" by Joji and KNEW I needed to write something angsty soooo here we are. I cranked this out in like 3 hours so I apologize if it's rough! But for real, go listen to that song. So good. So heartbreaking.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3A | Part 3B

“Hey what’s going on in here?” Cid shouts as you all make your way back to the bar. “Who are you?”

All of the guys have their guns drawn, waiting for the first sign of trouble. You can’t see past Hunter, so you’re not sure what’s happening.

“Rex?” You hear Echo ask.

Rex? It couldn’t be. You peek around Hunter’s shoulder and sure enough… It's him. The former love of your life. The one you thought had died during Order 66. You know Hunter can probably hear your heart pounding right out of your chest. You feel like you’re going to throw up.

“Oh great. Another clone. Just what I needed. Well, don’t get comfy. I’m done taking in strays.” Cid complains then turns to Hunter. “This ain’t a clone clubhouse, ya know.”

Cid grumbles as she walks back to her office.

Rex’s eyes go soft when they meet yours. You want to run into his arms. You can’t though. You stay beside Hunter. Your current partner. Your love. Your cyare. You notice the way that Hunter moves closer to you.

Rex puts his blaster away. You cross your arms, unsure of what to do.

“It’s okay.” Hunter murmurs to you.

You look up at him and then back at Rex. You cross the ten feet between the two of you and throw your arms around him, Rex does the same, enveloping you in his arms, burying his face in your hair.

“I thought you were gone…” You whisper, feeling your lips tremble as you try to fight back tears.

You think back to the day that Tech told you that Rex was gone… you were wrecked and couldn’t sleep for weeks.

“To be honest, so did I.” He tells you. “I’m so glad you found these guys.”

“They found me, actually.” You tell him, looking up at him but not letting go.

You were with General Billaba when the clones turned against her, against their will. You were terrified out of your mind, but you trusted the Batch. They were just as confused as you were. You had all managed to escape the new “Empire” for the time being.

“Captain.” Hunter pulls the two of you out of your moment.

“It’s been a while, boys.” Rex nods to them and then pulls away only slightly.

“Where have you been, Rex?” Echo asks.

“Hmm. That’s a long story.” Rex shrugs.

Rex proceeds to tell all of you exactly what happened to him and Ahsoka Tano and how she helped him get his inhibitor chip out and then how they managed to escape being killed by the other clones. Then, he tells you about how he’s been keeping a low profile.

“Very low. Imperial files have you listed as killed in action.” Tech tells him.

Your heart clenches at the words, even though you can see that it’s clearly not the truth. Thank the Maker.

“Being dead in the Empire’s eyes has its advantages.” Rex tells him.

He keeps an arm around your lower back as you stand next to him while he sits at the bar. You don’t know how to tell him about Hunter. You don’t know how to pull away from him after all this time. You just hope that Hunter understands.

“Well, how’d you track us down?” Echo asks him.

“Trace and Rafa Martez.” Rex replies. “They said a squad of rogue clones helped them on Corellia. They told me I could find you here. And that you were traveling with a kid and a woman. And now that I’ve figured out the mystery woman… Who's the kid?”

You look at Hunter. He doesn’t quite meet your eyes but looks at Rex and explains who Omega is and how she’s a clone just like them. The look of shock on Rex’s face is brief due to Wrecker and Omega coming back from getting Mantell Mix.

“Well, look who it is!” Wrecker laughs, loudly. “Come here, Rex.”

Wrecker picks up Rex and hugs him tightly. You take that moment to return to Hunter’s side as he leans against the bar. He smiles softly down at you in reassurance and you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding in. Your anxiety is starting to rise slightly. Hopefully no one expects you to be normal right now.

“Yeah.” Rex grunts, struggling for breath in Wrecker’s arms as he dangles like four feet off the ground. “Good to see you too, Wrecker.”

“I thought you didn’t like the regs?” Omega asks, confused.

“This one we like.” Wrecker chuckles as he sets Rex back down.

Rex looks over at you again and sees you next to Hunter. You can see it click in his eyes. He knows that you and Hunter are together. Which is fine. Right?

“Omega. This is Rex.” Hunter tells her.

Rex peels his eyes away from you and turns to look at Omega, kneeling down to her level.

“I’ve met many clones in my life, but never one like you.” Rex’s voice is soft, sweet even.

Omega looks at Rex as if she’s studying him. “You’re a generation one.”

“Now, how’d you know that?” Rex asks her.

“From the lines on your face.” She shrugs. It reminds you of Tech which makes you smile.

All of you chuckle with Rex. She technically just called him old. Which wasn’t out of the realm of possibility, you suppose. Clones do age faster than a regular human.

“Yeah, I guess I’ve been around.” Rex looks back at you.

“You got that right.” Wrecker grins and then groans, gripping his head. “Y/n, I need one of those med patches.”

Wrecker has been complaining of headaches for a while now. You and Tech have been keeping an eye on it, keeping him comfortable with med patches and medicine. You chalked it up to stress to all the new changes.

“You used the last one, Wrecker. I’m sorry.” You try to look at his head where he’s gripping it.

“What’s wrong?” Rex asks, his face completely serious now.

You look at him, confused.

“Nothing. It’s just a headache.” Wrecker explains.

“Which are becoming more frequent.” Echo adds.

“Is that so?” Rex asks, his voice lowering with concern and seriousness.

“If you’re concerned about the so-called inhibitor chips, don’t be. Our deviant nature seems to have impeded their functionality.” Tech chimes in. “Except in Crosshair.”

Rex’s eyebrows furrow deeper. “You’re telling me you haven’t removed your chips?”

“No, not yet.” Tech answers.

Rex steps in front of Omega and pulls back his poncho so that his hand can hover over his blaster, sending everyone else into alert mode. What’s wrong with him?

“Rex?” Hunter steps away from you, shielding you from Rex and putting his hand out.

“Those chips make you a threat to everyone around you. Even them.” Rex gestures to Omega and then you. “You’re all ticking time bombs.”

Hunter steps closer to Rex with his hand up in a non threatening way. “Take it easy, Captain.”

You feel your heart in your throat, unsure of what’s happening. You’ve never seen Rex like this.

“What’s in your head is more dangerous than you can imagine. I’ve seen what happens when the chip activates, and I don’t want to bury anymore of our brothers.” Rex tells them.

You can see the hurt and anguish in his eyes. He’s been through something terrible. You want to reach out to him and console him. You stay behind Hunter, though.

“Trust me… it is not something you can control. I couldn’t.” Rex looks down for a second and that’s when you step away from Hunter and walk back up to Rex, resting a palm on his face, making him look at you. You just need him to calm down for a moment.

The tension in his shoulders practically melts as you touch him. Just like before… When he’d come back to you, all you’d have to do is wrap him in your arms and he’d melt like putty.

When you think he’s okay, you pull away.

“It’s a risk you do not want to take.” Rex glances back at Hunter.

Hunter looks at you and then Omega. “How do you suggest we get them out?”

“Good question. I’ll be in touch.” Rex nods to Hunter.

Rex looks at you one last time before leaving the bar and you can feel your heart try to leave with him again. You look back at Hunter and you see his gaze shift away from yours. Perhaps consoling Rex was the wrong move…

“Do you think you could find out about Captain Rex of the 501st?” You ask Tech as everyone else is asleep.

“I can try.” Tech nods, pulling up his holopad and searching.

After a few moments, he puts the pad down and looks at you, pulling his goggles up on his head so that he can really look at you.

“Tech?” You feel your stomach start to sink.

Please no…

“I’m sorry…” He looks down.

“No… look again.” You shake your head.

Rex was the love of your life. You were supposed to grow old together and move to a farm and get married and have kids… The two of you had your entire lives after the war planned out. And now…

“Look. Again.” You tell Tech.

You don’t mean to sound rude or angry… but it just couldn’t be true… could it? Rex survived everything… It wouldn’t make sense for him to not survive this.

“Please…” You beg Tech.

He hands you the holopad to see for yourself. There in your hands, on the screen, is the face of the blond love of your life… with the red banner across the top: KILLED IN ACTION. You hand him the holopad and quickly walk to the fresher, letting the door slide closed behind you as you slump to the floor and sob.

Hours later, Hunter comes and scoops you off the floor and carries you to a bunk, letting you cry until your eyes go dry and hurt. You don’t leave the bunk for days. Echo kneels next to you, trying desperately to get you to eat.

“How can I go on?” You ask Echo as Hunter stands in the doorway, terrified.

“One day at a time.” Echo squeezes your hand.

He was right. Slowly, the pain just took the backseat and you were able to ignore it.

Present

Back on the ship, in hyperspace, Wrecker shakes his knee, gripping his head. You try everything you can without the med patch. All you have to offer is a warm compress to hold over his eyes. Unfortunately, Wrecker is just a smidge impatient and tosses it back to you as he gets up to pace.

“I don’t like this plan.” He groans to Hunter as Hunter comes back toward the bunks where Tech and Omega are working on Gonky as you try to help Wrecker.

Hunter glances at you and then places a hand on Wrecker’s shoulder. “We agreed to meet Rex on Bracca. That’s what we’re doing.”

“He wants to cut open my head.” Wrecker points at his head, nervously.

“All of our heads, actually.” Tech points out.

“Not mine. I don’t have an inhibitor chip.” Omega points out.

“Why not? Now, that’s not fair.” Wrecker grumbles.

You try to get Hunter’s attention but he ignores you and starts to talk to Tech about the chip scanner. You take that as your sign to leave the room and walk up to the cockpit, joining Echo at the steering panel.

“Are you alright?” Echo asks you, softly.

You shrug, leaning your head back against the seat. “Doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it matters.” Echo assures you, turning to look at you.

You roll your head to look at Echo. He’s looking at you softly. He knows about you and Rex. He was one of Rex’s closest friends. He and his brother Fives.

“Do you remember when Tech told me about Rex being killed in action and all I could do for weeks was lie awake and cry?” You ask him.

He nods. Of course he does. He was there for you every single day.

“I used to wish more than anything that he’d come back to me. And then Hunter and I just… happened. We’ve only been together a couple weeks…” You murmur softly, trying not to let Hunter hear you.

“You have to do what’s best for you.” Echo tells you.

“How do I know what that is?” You ask him.

He shrugs. “Well, no offense, but we saw the way you calmed Rex down…”

“Yeah and now Hunter is mad at me.” You groan, quietly.

When you finally reach Bracca, you land near Rex’s ship and all get out. You try your hardest to keep your eyes down, knowing it’d be hard to look at him again.

What you and Hunter have is great. You’re able to rely on each other. He is so sweet and kind. It is new, though.

“Stay here.” Hunter and Rex tell you simultaneously.

They look at each other with a furrowed brow. You roll your eyes.

“Whatever. Come on, Omega. We have plenty to keep us busy.” You tell her, sitting on the steps of the Marauder.

Omega glances at Hunter and he nods. She follows you and sits next to you as you rest your chin in your hands, watching the guys walk away. Rex glances back at you first and your chest tightens. Hunter glances back at you next and you feel the ache in your chest next.

“What’s going on?” Omega asks you.

Omega is the most perceptive child you’ve ever met. She catches on to everything very quickly, but you know this isn’t something she needs to worry about. Not to mention, it’s not appropriate to burden a child with adult matters. Granted, she’s been through more than a lot of children.

“I’ll tell you when you’re older.” You put a smile on your face as you look at her.

“How much older?” She asks you.

“Hmmm… at least five years older.” You shrug, amused.

“Ugh.” She rolls her eyes and you can’t help but laugh.

You get up as you pat her on the shoulder and go back into the ship to make yourself busy. Hopefully, they'll find what they’re looking for quickly.

About five hours in, you have music playing as you and Omega just finish up cleaning the entire ship and decide to play a board game that you secretly took from Cid’s. You feed Omega dinner as you play. You hear voices coming and go to greet the guys but find TK troopers, which means that Crosshair probably isn’t too far away.

“Hide. Now.” You whisper.

You help lift her up into the overhead unit and then crawl up there yourself, shutting the door as softly as possible. You don’t know how Crosshair could have possibly found you, but right now, your biggest concern is keeping Omega safe.

You watch the TK troopers through the vent as they walk throughout the ship.

“Ship is empty.” One of them speaks into their comm as they exit the ship.

“We’re staying here until the guys get back.” You whisper to her, softly.

She nods and starts to make herself comfortable, resting her head on her arms. You pat her softly on the back with a reassuring smile.

You aren’t sure how much time goes by, but when you finally hear the guys’ voices, relief washes over you.

You hear Hunter call out for you and Omega, panic clear in his voice. You move the vent over and let him know you’re still here.

“Oh thank the Maker.” He nods.

You lightly wake Omega up, letting her know the guys are back. She barely wakes up, just enough to let you pass her to Hunter. You jump down after and watch Hunter lay her in his bunk before returning to you, pulling you into his arms. Watching how amazing he is with her warms your heart every single time.

“I’m so sorry.” Hunter kisses you on the head.

“It’s okay.” You assure him.

“Thank you for staying safe.” He rests his forehead against yours, closing his eyes.

You see Rex in the doorway in your peripheral. He doesn’t take his eyes off of you. You can’t look away from him. Hunter notices, of course. He never misses a thing.

“Can I talk to you?” Rex asks you.

You look at Hunter and he nods, letting you go. You follow Rex outside the ship, pulling your sweater around you. It had gotten dark since you’d hidden in the overhead unit with Omega.

“I understand that you’ve moved on. I get it. I-” He starts. You interrupt him. “I haven’t.”

“What?”

“I haven’t moved on.” You whisper.

He walks toward you. You look up at him and time feels like it stops. Just for a moment. You know that you’re never going to stop loving him. You know that this man will always have your heart and anything you give to Hunter…

“Come with me.” Rex begs, softly, yanking you from your thoughts. “Please.”

You look up into those golden brown eyes that you used to get lost in once upon a time. You feel your stomach flutter at the way he’s looking at you. Like you hung every star in the galaxy. It’s the same look he’s always given you. And you know he’d continue to look at you like that for the rest of his life if you let him.

“Please stay…” You hear Hunter’s voice behind you.

You look back at Hunter. It feels like you’re stuck in place, unable to move. You know you need to choose, but the look on Hunter’s face breaks your heart all over again and you know you can’t bear the thought of hurting him. You care about him so much. Not to mention, the Batch. You love them all individually. Omega has become like your little sister. Wrecker is like your big brother. Echo has always been a friend. And Tech is so easy to chat with about things that he’s become a good friend as well. And Hunter… Well…

You know you’re going to have to make the decision now.

TAGS: @studioramekin @brynhildrmimi @madameminor @dumfanting @rain-on-kamino @wolveria @misogirl828 @rexandechosandwich @corona-one @tecker @ladykatakuri @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond @shytastemakerthing @twistedstitcher27

#tcw rex #tbb rex #tbb rex x you #tcw rex x you #tbb hunter x you #tbb hunter x reader #tbb rex x reader #tcw rex x reader #captain rex #the bad batch #tbb #the clone wars #tcw

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tmnt-obsessed-ace · 6 months

Note

on a scale of 1-10 how paranoid is SSDF Leo

Extremely

It was really bad in the early days, and can you blame him? He suddenly gets yoinked into a completely new dimension, suddenly the sole guardian of four INFANTS, completely alone with zero help and no way back home, and on TOP of that he's only 17.

(plus he's running on maybe an hour or less of sleep every single WEEK, so sleep deprivation certainly doesnt help)

And it only gets worse after the first month when he finds out that DRAXUM IS STILL ALIVE AND ACTIVELY HUNTING HIM AND THE TOTS DOWN. Now he has a legit reason to be so afraid.

He doesnt feel safe anywhere, after a certain incident in chapter 2 he wont trust his own ninja skills, he's constantly jumping at every little sound (he's constantly plagued by nightmares every night of The Shredder, and or of Draxum)

In fact the paranoia and anxiety get so bad that if he even so much as HEARD someone else in the sewer tunnels (regardless of how close they were to him) he would BOOK IT. Just take the tots and book it straight to the surface.

And he would hide on the surface for at least a few days (if someone actually SAW him/tried to APPROACH it would be closer to two weeks) then once he deems the sewers safe enough he would go back in, completely avoiding whatever tunnel/area he was in last time and never going back there.

That area/tunnel was no longer safe.

The number of "safe" tunnels and areas is extremely limited by the end of the first year. Even those spots still make him so afraid.

Its not a good idea, it doesnt make sense logically to limit yourself to so few tunnels out of the entirety of NYC sewers. But Leo is constantly severely stressed, exhausted, anxious and afraid. He isn't thinking logically.

(That's gonna bite him in the ass at year three, when all the "safe" tunnels are flooding and Rafa gets swept away into the darkness. And all of a sudden, Leo is constantly getting lost looking for his son because he doesn't KNOW where all these tunnels lead. And what little time he can afford to spend searching is dwindled more and more. He will never stop blaming himself for that.)

He does sorta mellow out as the years go by (and by mellow out I mean the paranoia has instead turned into mostly pure DREAD)

Which is probably why Leo's resting heartbeat is so FAST. (Man is one skinned knee away from either a legit heart attack or a fucking stroke, whichever comes first)

#tmnt 2012 #rottmnt #crossover #tmnt crossover #someone should give Leo a break #says the author fully capable of giving Leo a break but refuses to because he's so much fun to hurt :3

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cantstayawaycani · 1 year

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Can’t Stay Away’s Fic Rec Friday Posts

My ao3 Bookmarks (if it’s bookmarked, it’s usually a completed fic)

Can’t Stay Away’s Fic Rec Friday #1 (04.14.23)

Can’t Stay Away’s Fic Rec Friday #2 (04.28.23)

Can’t Stay Away’s Fic Rec Friday #3 (06.30.23)

Hello! Because of my love for Wakanda Forever in all of its GLORY, I have been sucked back into the world of fanfiction!

Formerly known as @krockafella, I actually came back to Tumblr after I left all social media over a year ago, because I am truly hyper-fixated on Tenoch Huerta after his turn as Namor in BPWF. Also the performances that Letitia Wright and Angela Bassett gave in this film deserved all of the awards! Those women, along with Danai Gurira and Lupita Nyong’o are the backbone AND the meat of the film, no question. This film, more than even the first, has me thinking about it and consuming content/media about it almost obsessively now days. Y'all know how it goes.

So now, during this phase of hyper-fixation, I am interested in exploring these characters and reading the ways in which others interpret their motivations and arcs in their writing.

Fic writers in this fandom have been FEEDING me, with such amazing content! Every day I am amazed at the creativity and skill people are demonstrating with the fruitful motivation the film provided.

So! Because I’ve been reading and enjoying so many of these gems, I decided that I would do this Fic Rec Friday post every other Friday (that’s what I can commit to right now) where I post the fics that I have read, that I’m currently reading, or re-reading with a brief comment on why I love it.

These will Include, but not limited to:

Black Panther: Wakanda Forever Fic

Namor x Shuri

Namor x Reader (preferably Black/of color/Indigenous)*

Namor x OFC (preferably Black/of color/Indigenous)

Namor x Shuri x Attuma

Namor x Ramonda (generally platonic character study, but I’m open to read anything good)

Okoye x Attuma

Okoye x Namor

Okoye x Attuma x Namor

Shuri x Riri Williams

Shuri x Fem!Reader (preferably Black/of color)*

Shuri x OFC (preferably Black/of color)

Aneka x Ayo

Aneka x Ayo x Namora

Namora x Fem!Reader (preferably Black/of color/Indigenous)*

Namora x OFC (preferably Black/of color/Indigenous)

M’Baku x Reader (preferably Black/of color)*

M’Baku x OFC (preferably Black/of color)

Tenoch Huerta Character Fic

Rafa Caro Quintero x Reader (preferably Black/Latina)*

Rafa Caro Quintero x OFC (preferably Black/Latina)

I will read other things, but this is what I am mainly interested in right now, and it’s already a lot.

*If I specify that Reader fic characters be coded as Black or a Character of Color, it's because a lot of Reader fic tends to be coded white. If the reader fic is written in such a way as to truly be devoid of indicators to race/ethnicity, I will read it.

A few things to know:

I ship both Nashuri and Attoye (among other pairings, some of them are rare pairs). I DO NOT engage in fandom wars or discourse. I do not argue with strangers on the internet at my big age. If either of these pairs doesn’t make sense to you, or weirds you out or makes you uncomfortable or upsets you, it’s OK, but we don’t need to argue about it. If you are an author and your fic is on this list, but you do not wish for it to be included because you don’t want it on a list with the other pairing, just let me know (cordially please, without attitude) and I will remove your fic from the list. No harm, no foul.

That said, if there is anything on the list that you feel is beyond simply nonsensical, but problematic, genuinely offensive, discriminatory, et al, please let me know. I do my best not to read or recommend things that fall on that spectrum, but if you have a genuine concern I of course want to know if there's something I overlooked or didn't consider.

These recs will be posted with the link to the fic on ao3 and if the author has a Tumblr, their @handle. If the author has no Tumblr, but is on some other social platform, I will post that instead.

If the fic is posted on Tumblr, I will ❤️ it first, and then it will be queued to reblog on Fridays. I will usually comment on it, but my comments can mostly be found in the tags. If that is unacceptable to you, I’m sorry, that’s the way I like to run my blog. I like to do a rapid scroll, like, and then go through my likes some time later (days maybe weeks depending on how busy I am) and queue them up for reblogs. If you’d rather I’d reblog as soon as you post your fic or not at all, let me know (cordially please, without attitude) and I will do my best. I have a full time job, and sometimes all I have time for is to scroll and like quickly. Then on the weekends, I sit my old ass down, go through my likes and queue them up. I’m saying this multiple times so that there is no misunderstanding.

If the author has more than one work, not all of them will be listed in one post. I may not have read the others yet, and spreading them out will help keep the list fresh.

I will only recommend what I have read. I can’t recommend something I haven’t read myself, for obvious reasons. If you want me to read something, please ask. However, if it doesn’t end up on this list, please understand. I am open to giving feedback, but I probably won’t recommend something I don’t like.

This is mostly for me to organize the fics I like in a way that’s easy to find for anyone who is interested that may stumble across this blog. It’s useful, but it’s not that serious. If you want to interact with me about it, please do! (be nice tho)

Just to reiterate, SO THERE IS NO MISUNDERSTANDING: if I haven't reblogged or commented on your fic it's for one of these reasons:

I legit haven't seen it.

I haven't had the chance to read/formulate an opinion on it.

I gave it a ❤️ because I'm bookmarking it for later.

And now I have decided the "later" will be Fic Rec Friday.

It may not be what I'm interested in. I hope you understand.

Here are my current fic sources on Tumblr that I personally follow:

@attoye (fics) <- a treasure trove of Attoye "juice"

@tvreadsandsleep (fics) <- one of the most prolific attoye fic writers in the fandom

@namorslutfanfiction (fics) <- Namor and Tenoch goodness abound, take a swim, get wet

I haven’t read everything on these blogs yet. If I’m missing a fic source and you think it should be included here, please let me know.

These posts will be tagged with their respective fandom pairing tags so people can find the fics. As I said before, I am a multi-shipper and I do not engage in negative fandom discourse or ship wars. Please don’t interact with these posts with any of that. Thank you.

Tags: #ficrecfriday #csaficrecfriday #fiction reccommendation #fic rec friday #fic rec #can't stay away's fic rec friday

I will also tag the date I make the posts so you can find it that way as well.

Enjoy!

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sandwormsummoner · 2 months

Text

MUSIC/INTERVIEW:

Beetlejuice: Thais Piza says she needs to “control herself not to laugh” during the musical

By Eduardo do Valle (@duduvalle)

Published on 02/27/2024, at 5:24 pm

Actress and singer returns to the stage alongside Eduardo Sterblitch and a great cast in a São Paulo production of a musical adapted from Tim Burton's work: 'it's poking fun at oneself.

Eduardo Sterblitch and Thais Piza behind the scenes of 'Beetlejuice, The Musical' (Personal collection)

Thais Piza is back on stage - and once again leading a celebrated musical. After shining as Vivian Ward in the production of Pretty Woman, the singer and actress now brings Barbara to life in Beetlejuice, The Musical, which premiered in São Paulo on the 21st.

The Brazilian adaptation of the Broadway show, Beetlejuice, The Musical arrives in São Paulo after a successful run in Rio de Janeiro. Here, it retains part of the structure and cast, notably Eduardo Sterblitch in the title role. Directed by Tadeu Aguiar and produced by Renata Borges Pimenta, the play has been praised for its distinctly Brazilian humor in adapting the classic story from Tim Burton's film: "The play was completely tailored to the Brazilian audience; we play with accents, well-known jokes, names, people, and situations."

Thais Piza in 'Beetlejuice, The Musical' (Rafa Marques/Blog do Arcanjo)

“Unlike a musical that comes, as we joke, 'canned,' in this one, we were able to adapt everything. It brought together the genius of Edu [Sterblitch], with the genius of Tadeu [Aguiar] and a team where we have incredible actors, like my scene partner, Marcelo Laham - it's a hit! Goal! Goal for Brazil... Record-breaking box office.”

For Thais, the invitation to join the cast of the São Paulo production came as a welcome challenge, materializing in less than a month of preparation to take the stage as Barbara - a character immortalized by Geena Davis in the 1988 film adaptation.

“It was a mix of happiness and madness to accept the invitation to play Barbara here in São Paulo because the play came ready, meaning I had a week to learn what the cast had built in two months,” the actress shares.

Thais Piza in 'Beetlejuice, The Musical' (Rafa Marques/Blog do Arcanjo)

Her character is part of a recently deceased couple, who become ghosts trapped in their old house. With the arrival of new tenants, she and her husband (Adam, played by Marcelo Laham) must learn how to scare the new occupants - and they do so with Beetlejuice himself. Speaking to Rolling Stone Brasil, Piza admits to having to hold back laughter at times - notably in scenes with Eduardo Sterblitch's Beetlejuice and João Telles, who have more freedom on stage.

“The sharp jokes fall more on Edu and João, who is the alternate Beetlejuice. We stick more to the script because we 'don't see' the audience like Beetlejuice does. And man, comedy is just that, poking fun at oneself, it's laughter at any cost.”

Beetlejuice, The Musical, is produced by Touché Entretenimento, with a cast of 26 people and over 100 professionals involved in the production. The show runs at Teatro Liberdade in São Paulo until April 21st. Tickets are available for purchase through Sympla.

↓ Read the full interview with Thais Piza below ↓

Rolling Stone Brasil: You approached Beetlejuice after a praised season in Pretty Woman. How did the opportunity arise and how much time did you have to prepare between the two projects?

Thais Piza: I received the invitation from Renata Borges less than a month after the end of Pretty Woman and about a month and a half before the São Paulo premiere. I am extremely grateful for bringing Vivian to life in Brazil, and I believe it was indeed a turning point in my career, but ever since I found out that Beetlejuice was coming to Brazil, I freaked out. I watched the play in New York and was ecstatic. It was a mix of happiness and madness to accept the invitation to play Barbara here in São Paulo because the play came ready, meaning I had a week to learn what the cast had built in two months. But this cast is so generous, so supportive, and Tadeu Aguiar is such an incredible director as well, that putting it all together ended up being easy, as far as possible [laughs]... Now I'm having too much fun on stage. I always say it was my most confident yes.

Rolling Stone Brasil: In the show, you portray Barbara, a role famously played by Geena Davis. What characteristics do you bring to the role, and how does this iconic interpretation from cinema influence you?

Thais Piza: Just as there was much talk about Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman, now Geena Davis is in the spotlight. And the answer is quite similar, yet different: Beetlejuice is a super comedy! Edu [Sterblitch] is a genius from whom I learn every day; he has become a dear friend, and as he himself said, "If Wicked is the Juliette of musicals, then we are the Gil do Vigor." The play was completely adapted for the Brazilian audience; we play with accents, well-known jokes, names, people, and situations. The starting point, as in Pretty Woman, will always be the film followed by the Broadway adaptation, but then comes the spice, the Brazilian essence. As I used to say: I'm not Julia Roberts, but I made my Vivian. And I repeat: I'm not Geena Davis, but I'm making my Barbara.

Thais Piza as Barbara in 'Beetlejuice, The Musical' (Andy Santana)

Rolling Stone Brasil: Since you mentioned the Brazilian essence, are there opportunities to bring any references or inspirations from our dramaturgy into such a rigid script like that of a musical? Did you consider any for the development of your role?

Thais Piza: I considered a friend who has the characteristics of Barbara [laughs]. I always like to imagine who the character could be in real life during the character's construction. And yes! Absolutely! There are many references to Brazilian things. Unlike a musical that comes, as we joke, "canned", like a Les Mis or a Phantom of the Opera, in this one, we were able to adapt everything. It brought together the genius of Edu, with the genius of Tadeu, and a team where we have incredible actors, like my scene partner, Marcelo Laham - a hit! Goal! Goal for Brazil... Record-breaking box office.

Rolling Stone Brasil: Beetlejuice navigates through a whimsical universe while also experimenting with a certain freedom, especially in the use of sharp humor. How does this musical adaptation explore these aspects?

Thais Piza: I love doing comedy. I love Tim Burton. Put it all together, mix it up, add Brazil, a cast of beasts, exquisite direction, and you get success. The sharp jokes fall more on Edu and João's shoulders, who is the alternate Beetlejuice. We stick more to the script because we "don't see" the audience like Beetlejuice does. And man, comedy is just that, poking fun at oneself, it's laughter at any cost. Our play is the one where you leave your problems at home and come to the theater with one single purpose, which is to have fun.

Rolling Stone Brasil: How has your experience been with the cast?

Thais Piza: I'll be brief: I think, to this day, this cast is in the "top 3 best casts" I've ever worked with. There's a lot of laughter, a lot of affection, a lot of fun, and a lot of professionalism. It's a different lesson in every session.

Eduardo Sterblitch e Thais Piza nos bastidores de 'Beetlejuice, O Musical' (Acervo pessoal)

Rolling Stone Brasil: Any favorite or surprising scenes you'd like to highlight?

Thais Piza: I have two! There's a scene where I always have to control myself not to laugh, which is when Edu, Laham, and I are in the attic, with Beetlejuice teaching the two goofy ghosts how to scare. And the other one is our duet called "Barbara 2.0" - where my character "stops being silly" and sings a song in the best Broadway style with extremely high notes - thank you, Rafael Villar, my singing teacher. I've been eagerly waiting since the beginning to perform this delightful number.

↓ SUPPORT THE ORIGINAL POST! ↓

#beetlejuice #beetlejuice musical #beetlejuice the musical #beetlejuice broadway #lydia deetz #beetlejuice brazil #beetlejuice brasil #betelgeuse #barbara maitland #barbara beetlejuice #beetlejuice the broadway musical #Beetlejuice Beetlejuice Beetlejuice #Beetle Interviews

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photo1030 · 1 year

Text

Leather and Lace - Chapter 13: Life Is Full of ”What If’s”

Summary: Arthur struggles with whether or not he should tell you how he feels about you.

Warnings: Swearing and angst

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

*I found this image on Pintrest, posted by ‘rafa’. I’m obsessed with their pins, btw. You totally need to check them out.

The next morning after your day of drinking with Karen at the saloon, you feel dreadful. The only thing worse than your queasy stomach is the pounding in your head. You manage to get yourself together enough to drag your ragged self to the coffee pot for some much-needed "black gold". You have spent the morning with the girls, and in the process of discussing your current physical state, it has eventually come out within your small circle that you are majorly sweet on Arthur. Not that it was a surprise to any of them, but now that your not-so-secret is out, the young women quickly pounce on the idea. And the girls are all aflutter with coming up with a plan to get you and Arthur together.

But sadly, your heart isn't as excited as they are. While the romantic idea of calling Arthur yours is beautiful, you still carry strong doubts about it ever becoming a reality. And last night only fueled that notion even further. You had made a move of your own on Arthur last night, making it pretty clear to him (or so you thought) how you feel. But rather than returning your affection, he simply got up and walked out of your tent.

"Wait...he did what, now?" asks Abigail, a look of confusion coming across her face as she holds her hand up to interrupt you so that she can grasp what you've just told her.

You sigh, embarrassed to admit that you practically threw yourself at a man and got rejected. "I smiled, told him he was sweet. I kissed his cheek and leaned in for a kiss...and nothing." You wave your hand before letting it fall helplessly into your lap with a shrug. "He just got up and left." The memory of your pathetic amorous attempt at flirting snaps back to your mind and it makes you cringe inside all over again. You never really were good at that sort of thing.

"Well, that's your problem right there, (Y/N). You kissed the wrong part of the man," snickers Karen, swatting your arm.

"Oh, (Y/N), maybe he was just tired, you know? Maybe he wasn't feeling too well?" offers Mary-Beth, trying to make you feel better.

But you just shake your head, not buying her explanation. "Its always been my experience that if a man wants you, he'll take you up on your offer, regardless of how 'tired' he is."

But Abigail simply sits, still pondering, the gears turning in her head. She knows Arthur well, too well, in fact. Almost as well as Hosea. "Hmmm...no, somethin' ain't right, here. I can't believe that Arthur ain't interested. Gotta be more to the story than that, (Y/N)."

"What if you-" starts Tilly, but you quickly cut her off, causing her face to startle with astonishment. "You know what?", you say sharply, "I really don't want to talk about this right now. Arthur is making my head pound more than it already is. Can we please just talk about something else, girls? Please? At least until I got my head on straight?" you plead to your friends. The rest of the girls fall silent, looking from you to each other with awkward glances. The girls finally have some juicy tid-bits to gossip over and yet they have just been hushed to silence. But you have no doubt that as soon as you leave their company, the full discussions will begin. And in a small camp like this, you wince a bit at the idea of how fast this news will spread. You really need to pull Arthur aside at some point and discuss this, to do some damage control and try to head it off before the gossip gets out of control. But what is it that you want to tell Arthur? That you're sorry for embarrassing yourself last night, or that you actually have feelings for him?

After you finish your coffee, you slowly meander back to your tent to pull out anything in need of washing for the laundry today. The fatigue from your hangover is heavy in your joints, but there is still work to be done, as always. As you gather up a few articles of clothing, the girls' conversations are lingering in your mind and it dawns on you that you haven't even seen Arthur yet this morning. Taking a moment to look around the camp, you notice that everyone else seems to be as lethargic as you after last night's drinking festivities. But eventually, you find Arthur over by one of the tables with Hosea. You can't hear what they are talking about, but by the expressions on each of their faces, it looks like a pretty serious discussion. The mere sight of Arthur makes you blush in embarrassment and quickly look away, hoping to avoid any eye-contact. God, what were you thinking last night?! "Fucking idiot..." you mumble to yourself as you throw a few things into a basket and walk behind your tent towards the washing area, hoping not to draw any attention to yourself.

Over at the tables, Arthur and Hosea are still deep in a serious conversation, alright. And what you do not know is that the topic is about you.

"You need to do something about it soon, son. Because if you don’t, there’s surely others who will," Hosea warns in earnest, yet soft-spoken and serene. "And with a girl like that," as he motions towards your tent with his tea cup in-hand, "it won’t take long to happen."

Arthur lifts his eyes to meet Hosea's, a shadow of pain held behind those blue orbs. "That's just it, Hosea. I think it already has," says Arthur in disappointment.

"What are you goin' on about now?" asks Hosea.

Arthur lets out a long sigh before he continues, as he's a bit uncomfortable talking about this sort of thing. "Apparently, (Y/N) met someone in town yesterday when she was with Karen. And by the sounds of it, he's quite the catch," says Arthur sarcastically with an eye roll to accompany it.

Hosea narrows his eyes at Arthur. Arthur always does this. He's got more excuses as to why he either can't, or won't, allow himself some sort of happiness for himself. And, a few weeks ago, when Arthur was seriously hurt after that payroll robbery (the one that was meant for Rosewood, the town where you came from when Arthur first found you), Hosea watched as you carefully tended to Arthur's wounds, desperate to keep him alive. He had asked you then if you had feelings for Arthur, and you all but admitted that you did. But, you insisted that Hosea not say anything. At the time, you had no idea how you wanted to handle the notion of being with Arthur. So in order to avoid creating a possible divide between the two of you, you convinced Hosea to remain silent, forcing him to give you his word. And despite being a seasoned outlaw, Hosea's word is his bond.

"How do you know this?" asks Hosea suspiciously, coming back to the current conversation.

"I heard 'em talkin' this mornin' about it, the whole group of 'em over there," he motions towards the wagon where you and the girls were a bit ago.

Hosea mulls over this new information for a moment, tapping his finger on the side of his tea cup. "Well, it ain't like they're married yet. Don't mean nothin' til a ring is on her finger," he advises. But Arthur just rolls his eyes, yet again. "Might as well be," he sulks.

As for you on the other side of camp, you try your best to attempt the washing, but the rocking motion of leaning over the washboard and tub and scrubbing the clothing makes you even more sick to your stomach. Thankfully, Ms. Grimshaw shows you some mercy and allows you to go over to your med tent and work there. You are not the only one feeling the after-effects of alcohol this morning, so you set yourself to the task of prepping fresh ginger-root for the nausea and fever-few tea for the headaches for those who need it. And, there are quite a few who do. Even Dutch eventually makes his way over to you, almost begging for you to put him out of his misery.

After you look after everyone else, you spend the rest of the late morning and afternoon taking it easy and lazing about, managing your hangover. Lucky for you, Ms. GrimsHaw takes pity on you and pretty much leaves you alone. 'Maybe she's starting to hate me less,' you joke to yourself as you lay curled up on your side on your cot, your arm folded under your head like a pillow.

By dinnertime, you slowly make your way to the tables to eat. You have little appetite, but fortunately, Mr. Pearson has had the foresight to make a simple soup and fresh bread for dinner. You grab yourself a bowl and small hunk of bread and turn to find yourself a seat. You look to your usual spot, but find that Arthur is not there. He usually sits next to, or at least near you during the meals when he is in camp. In fact, now that you think about it, you haven't seen him all day. You've been too caught up in your lingering discomfort all day to notice until now. Looking around, you see that he has already grabbed himself a bowl and is tucked away inside his tent, keeping to himself and writing in his journal. You'd go over there to join him, but whenever Arthur stows away inside his tent with his journal like this, he does not like to be disturbed. It seems that he is clearly keeping to himself for a reason. You cast your eyes down to your bowl, nibbling on your lip a bit before reluctantly moving to sit in your spot at the table across from Abigail and Jack. Abigail looks up from her own bowl of food and watches you absentmindedly stir your spoon in your bowl, indifferent and playing with the contents, clearly distracted. "Everything alright, (Y/N)?" she asks you, a small questioning smile crossing her lips. "Oh yeah, fine", you reassure her. "Just not too hungry yet after last night," giving her a weak smile in return. Occasionally, you look up and over at Arthur's tent, stealing a few glances here and there as you try to eat, but he seems to be unaffected by the new distance between you two as he never once looks up to meet your gaze. Odd, seeing as you often catch him looking at you, even off at a distance.

After the meal and the dishes are washed, everyone gathers about the main fire again for another evening, but this time everyone is more relaxed than drunk. You eagerly scuttle closer to the flames, desperate for the comfort of their warmth. The heat of the fire seeps into your tired muscles and a wave of relief rushes over you. You look about at the attendants of tonight's fire, and yet again, you notice that Arthur is not in the group's attendance. Glancing about, you see him standing over by the horses with Charles. They are brushing down their respective mounts, occasionally exchanging a few words, but doesn't look like anything too important is happening over there.

And suddenly, you get a sinking feeling in your stomach that Arthur is strategically avoiding you now. This is what you were afraid of. This is exactly what you had told Karen yesterday at the saloon. 'I'd rather know him and be friends, than try to be together and have him hate or resent me', you had told her. What if he really is mad at you now? But you quickly admonish yourself for such self pity. 'We're friends, damn it. Surely, we can talk about it and he can let me at least apologize for acting so stupidly? I'll blame it on the booze.' You take a deep breath as you have this internal conversation with yourself and decide that you'll talk to him first thing in the morning. You'll just leave him be for now, let yourself fully recover from your hangover, and you'll handle it in the morning and get everything straightened out. You're fine. He'll be fine. It'll all be fine. You'll fix it tomorrow...or so you hope.

But the next morning, you wake up to discover that Arthur isn't around. Apparently he left to do some "collecting" for Strauss, and a few other errands that need attention. "He left early this morning," Charles tells you when you ask of Arthur's whereabouts. (You figure if Arthur is talking to anyone right now, its Charles.) "He left just before dawn, before anyone was even awake. I was on watch into the morning and saw him head out." You slowly close your eyes, letting your head hang back in frustration, as your hands land on your hips. You suppose it shouldn't be much of a surprise that Arthur is gone already. Every few days he's sent out for one damn thing or another. The poor man can't get a moment's peace around here. "You OK, (Y/N)? asks Charles, his brows knit in concern.

"Perfect...just perfect," you mutter.

---------------------------

After shaking down some unpaid debts, then checking out the local butcher who Hosea suspects is stealing cattle and reselling it to the ranchers, plus collecting a quick and easy bounty, Arthur is in town picking up some personal items for a few of the gang members by request. He was happy to have the distraction, and now with his obligations met, he figures his horse, Buck, could use some love as well. So he decides to take him over to the local farrier to get his hooves looked after. They've been all over this God forsaken country lately, trudging over rocky terrain and sandy soil. Buck has tripped up on his own feet more than a few times, so Arthur decides to treat him to some fine attention.

"This one's a real stud, ain't he?" the local farrier asks, running his hands down Buck's coat in admiration. "He's a fine specimen, mister."

Arthur beams proudly as he looks over his most prized possession. "Yeah, he is. I don't know what I'd without 'em," he agrees, rubbing his hands along the sides of Buck's face. The animal nickers softly, nosing into Arthur's pockets to possibly find a treat of some kind.

Arthur then steps back and out of the way to let the farrier do his job. While he’s waiting outside the farrier's barn, he leans his shoulder into the door casing, crossing his arms over his chest lazily, and casually glances around the open space of the town, absentmindedly watching the people going about their business in the streets. Its a sunny day today, the air picking up hints of the leaves in the trees starting to turn for the onset of autumn. The town is filled with residents out and about, taking advantage of the good weather.

Arthur eventually takes notice of a young family coming out of the general store across the way. The brood consists of a man and his wife with their two young children, maybe seven and five years old, pretty much around Jack's age. Upon closer examination, the husband isn’t much younger than Arthur. Arthur watches with curiosity as the man helps his wife with her packages, while also trying to reel-in their two children who are running circles around them. Both parents laugh at the playfulness of their young ones, watching them chase each other around. It’s a happy sight, rare for these parts it seems. The man lifts his children into the back of their wagon, then finally helps his wife onto the driving bench, kissing her hand as he does so.

Watching this scene, Arthur’s mind involuntarily drifts to thoughts of you. He imagines the two of you together, a family like this one. He envisions you smiling at him as he places the young child you'd have together on your lap while he loads the last of the goods to head back to your quiet cabin home that the two of you would build, nestled safely away from the harsh life that you live now. He can clearly see your beautiful face in his mind's eye, looking up at him so adoringly. He imagines you leaning into his side as he grabs the reins of the horse-drawn wagon. He reaches down to place a gentle kiss atop his child's head before placing one along your temple. He snaps the reins to start the wagon lurching into a slow, languid, and unrushed movement; all cares and worries left behind in the collecting dust of the wagon-wheels.

A sharp clanking sound of the anvil behind him within the barn from the farrier snaps Arthur out of his foolish daydream, and he slightly shakes his head to restore himself back to his reality. He clears his throat and quickly scolds himself, looking down at his feet. It’s been a long time since he’s had such thoughts of domestic bliss. The last time he let his mind wander like this was when he was with Mary. And admittedly, it wasn’t pictured nearly as wonderful as this. And he had loved her. But look how that turned out. Its too risky to think such things. Even if the two of you could ever leave this outlaw life together, you surely wouldn’t have him. Arthur's convinced of it. Not when you could have any man you wanted. Would you?

Arthur gives pause to this for a moment. He keeps hearing Hosea's voice in his head. Two days ago, you and Karen had gone into this very town for a drink, or many drinks as it turned out, and in the process, you had met someone. Apparently, from what Arthur gathers, this other man had made quite the impression on you. But, later that same night, you and Arthur had a 'moment', as it were, in your tent. Arthur believed at the time that whatever it was that transpired between the two of you was merely a result of a combination of your inebriation and affections for this new man. But Hosea wasn't so sure and was quite insistent that Arthur talk to you about it.

The gruff outlaw has to admit, the two of you do share a connection. You are both quite comfortable in each other’s company. And for the first time in a very, very long time Arthur could actually envision himself being with someone again and possibly being happy. For you do make him happy. You aren't even together as a proper couple as it is now, and yet, he is happiest when he's with you. Maybe? Just maybe? What if Hosea is right?

With his eyebrows furrowed in deep thought, Arthur decides that when he returns to camp, this may be the time to finally tell you how he feels about you. Its been getting harder and harder to deny it. He flat-out admitted it to Hosea the other day, so its only a matter of time before everyone in camp knows anyway. Things like this tend to spread like poison ivy through a thicket. Arthur's mind races and his heart beats faster at the idea of it. He rolls his fingers into the palms of his hands, as they begin to sweat just a bit now. Its a gamble, that's for sure. A cocky grin begins to take hold of his weathered face as his hand comes up to rub his chin in thought, his thick forefinger dragging slowly across his lips. Then, he suddenly takes notice of himself and realizes that he is looking pretty ragged these days. His beard is getting scratchy and his hair needs a trim and a good washing. He looks over at the barber shop and decides that if he's going to do this, he needs to do it right. Best foot forward and such. You deserve that much, at least.

He turns his attention back inside the barn to the smith. "Hey, Mister, keep an eye on my boy, here, would ya?," he says with a quick nod towards Buck. "I got some things I gotta take care of real quick."

"Sure thing, friend," says the farrier with a grin and a little wave. Arthur pats Buck's hind quarters before walking out of the barn and makes his way over to the barber's place to get cleaned up with a shave and a haircut.

"Shit, maybe I'll even fit in a bath," he muses to himself with a swagger.

---------------------

The whole ride home, Arthur is a nervous wreck. He runs over and over again in his mind what he so desperately wants to say to you. Should he take you somewhere to talk about this in private? Or should he catch you in your tent and just come right out with it? Oddly, the closer he gets to camp, he is more excited than nervous. 'That's gotta be a good sign, right?' he asks himself. This is something that Arthur has been thinking over for awhile now and the idea of confessing his adoration for you just seems like the absolute right thing to do.

Arthur heads in to camp and quickly gets Buck squared away. Turning about to face the main camp, his eyes instantly search for you. Soon, his ears pick up on a melody floating through the stillness from somewhere in camp. He wanders through the tents and tables, gravitating towards the heavenly sound, and he realizes as he gets closer to it that its you. A huge smile dances across the outlaw's lips as he picks up his pace to find the source.

As he comes around the corner, unbeknownst to you, Arthur sees you sitting with Javier. You were feeling a bit down after Arthur left camp a few days ago, not knowing what you were going to do. You really weren't sure how you were going to handle this "thing" with Arthur. Javier had found you earlier in the day throwing the knife he had given you into a stump in frustration, hacking into the pulp of the wood with your blade. Sensing you needed some cheering up, Javier offered to distract you with trying to teach you to truly throw knives. "Give it here," he said, reaching over to take the knife from you. "If you're going to do it, let me show you how to do it properly." He figured throwing sharp objects at something would be a good stress relief for you, given your current countenance. You and Javier are good friends and you were grateful for his company. He quickly had you on your feet and was guiding your hands and arms, teaching you the proper stance, grip, and timing to hurl a knife like a weapon at a target. That was earlier today, and now, you and Javier are sitting by the fire, singing and playing music together.

From where he stands, Arthur listens, stunned and paralyzed by the sweet sound of your voice carrying through the air. He was looking forward to speaking with you, so to hear your voice shouldn't be such a shock to him. Plus, he's heard you sing before. It was quite the lovely surprise when he discovered yet another talent of yours; another touch of beauty that sits upon him like warm blanket enveloping around him. But somehow, the melody of your song wrapped around Javier's musical notes just does something to him this time. It is a sound so beautiful and fragile. He quietly walks over to Mr. Pearson's wagon, attempting to be inconspicuous to avoid drawing your attention and disrupting the eloquent sound. Arthur's walking pace eventually slows to a halt as he listens to you along with the others.

Your voice carries through the air, light and airy and beautifully hypnotic. The lyrics to your song tell of encouragement to one so downtrodden, and filled with love and empathy for someone struggling to find hope in the world.

When you've finished your song, you are not met with cheers or applause, but more of soft grins of approval from those who have been moved by your performance. Javier gives you a big smile as he wraps his arm around your shoulders, planting a friendly kiss upon your cheek. It is a gesture that certainly does not go unnoticed by Arthur, either.

"Ah, mi Amor! We sound good together, no?" Javier says to you with a wink. "Yes, Javi, that we do," you agree with a grin, snuggling up under his arm a bit. Watching you and Javier together suddenly makes Arthur question his plan. How does he follow this with his own awkward expression of affection for you? What if you say 'no' after sitting with Javier?

"That was beautiful, (Y/N)," says Abigail, sitting off to the side of you, relaxing to the music.

"Thank you. Just something I’ve had rolling around in my head," you reply sheepishly, looking down at your hands folded in your lap. "Don't really know where it came from." But Abigail knows exactly where it came from and who it’s about, too. Realizing this, she looks around for your muse and sees Arthur off in the distance, leaning against Pearson’s wagon with his arms crossed and head down with his hat pulled over his eyes. She gets up and walks over to the wagon to get herself a cup of coffee.

Abigail casually walks to the wagon and grabs the coffee pot to pour herself a fresh cup. “Beautiful, wasn’t it?” Abigail innocently asks Arthur, as she stands next to him, sipping the hot liquid.

"Mmhmm" is all that Arthur can reply with, not lifting his face at all to give Abigail any more of a response than that.

“You know who she wrote that about don't you?”, Abigail lifts an eyebrow at Arthur.

“Abigail…just…don’t”, Arthur's voice low and gravely.

"What?" she feigns innocence, observing his demeanor. "Oh Arthur, why not?" she pushes after a moment of silence.

“You know damn well why”, he snaps quietly. Arthur is riddled with such self-loathing and doubt, something that Abigail is all too aware of.

"You’re being silly. Love doesn't have to be perfect, Arthur," she whispers, leaning in to him so that no one can overhear their conversation. "It just needs to be true," hints Abigail with a smirk and a twinkle in her eye, trying to goad him into action. "Trust me, I know what I'm talkin' about," as she gives a subtle nod in John's direction.

"It ain't that simple, Abigail", he pouts, as he turns and walks away before anyone else can approach him. Arthur doesn't know why he's suddenly so resentful of Javier. You and Javi are friends, fairly close in fact, and he knows this. But he has to get his head around this thing about you and fast. He can't go around avoiding you forever.

From where you are sitting, you look up from Javier just in time to see Arthur walking away from the circle of people and towards his tent. You hadn't noticed his return, and part of you wants to instantly jump up and run after him, as you've been desperately waiting to talk to him. But something about how his large footsteps hit heavily into the dirt under him, his shoulders squared harshly, told you that for whatever reason, he was in a mood and it is probably best to leave him alone at the moment.

----------------------------

The next morning, Arthur drags himself out of bed. He had a restless night, hardly sleeping at all. His inner struggle with whether or not to tell you how he feels is driving him insane. He cares for you, he knows that now. But is it selfish to tell you? What if he's not good enough, just like he wasn't good enough for Mary? What if he is not what you really want? He saw how you were with Javier. You've never been like that with Arthur. But then again, your relationship with Arthur is completely different. In fact, Arthur has always thought that what was between you two was better than that with anyone else. Is he wrong? As the camp sweetheart, you are kind and bubbly with everyone, even Uncle. But there is just something almost electric between you and Arthur. He can't be making this up in his own mind, can he?

As the camp comes to life this morning, Arthur notices that you are not at breakfast. Trying not to look too interested, he doesn’t ask about your whereabouts, but keeps a watchful eye out for you. He tries to keep himself busy with odds and ends around the camp, trying not to think of you. Its a sunny day, not too chilly, so its a good day to get alot of work and chores done. By the afternoon when you're still not around, he asks Lenny, “Where is everyone?”

Lenny tells him that Mr. Pearson took Tilly and Mary-Beth into town, Bill and Micah are chasing down a lead with Rev. Swanson, and you are out with Charles hunting. Arthur only huffs in response and wanders back to his tent to take a rest break in an attempt to avoid anyone else. It seems that you and Arthur are like passing ships these days, never in the same place at the same time. Some of that is his own doing, though, he realizes.

It isn't long before he hears the hoofbeats of horses and looks up from his cot to see you and Charles riding in together. He looks up from his journal and watches as you pull Blue to a halt. Being ever the gentleman, Charles is quick to hold your reins with one hand while assisting you down from the saddle with the other. Your face is alight with excitement and all smiles. Charles was teaching you to use a bow and how to track today. Apparently it paid off, as you brought down a large doe on your own. Arthur observes you trailing behind Charles like a puppy as he carries the large deer carcass over his strong shoulders and over to the food wagon to skin. His eyes keenly pickup how you lay your delicate hand over top of Charles' thick forearm and giggle and flutter your eyes at him as you watch him prep the animal for skinning, the pride beaming off of your features. It starts to make Arthur jealous again, not even realizing it. He can feel his stomach starting to turn in knots.

Dejected, Arthur decides to keep his distance from everyone for the rest of the day. He needs to reassess his plan to talk to you, and more importantly, really take a hard look at his feelings for you and the options that are available. Arthur mulls over how you interact with everyone else. Maybe he isn't that special after all? What if it is just wishful thinking on his part that you could want him? He's not as young and intelligent as Lenny. Or as suave and debonair as Javier. And he ain't even half the man that Charles Smith is. What could he possibly offer you? What, his smart-ass attitude, dirty fingernails and a life of always looking over your shoulder? Arthur was literally just spending his time out of the camp intimidating people for money and plotting to steal from others, all while trying to keep his head low enough to avoid the lawman's noose. That's a real nice proposition for a lady, isn't it? What if his affection for you leads to your destruction?

God damn it, why did he have to find you in the woods that day?, Arthur curses himself. Sure, he helped you out, but why couldn't it have been someone else from some other camp? Things have been so much more complicated since you got here. Your presence is like fingers in his brain, digging deep. Things were so much simpler for him before you came. How the hell is he going to get you out of his mind, now?

For your part, when you woke up a few days ago and Arthur wasn't in camp, you were more than a little frustrated. You wanted to talk to him so badly, if nothing else than to just apologize for how you had acted that drunken night. It obviously made him uncomfortable; you see that now, as Arthur had left camp for several days after that and looks to be avoiding you now that he's back. But you just can't let it go. Whatever your feelings for him may be, Arthur is your best friend. You usually pal around with him all of the time when he's available. You don't want things to continue awkwardly like this. You'll just have to push your love for him way down deep into your chest and try to ignore it as best you can. Because, as you have come to fully realize now, you do love him.

As the sun starts to set for day, draping the camp in its gold and orange hues, you bite your lip nervously, your fingers knotting around themselves as you tentatively approach Arthur. You've had enough of this nonsense and you're going to pin him down and talk to him, whether he likes it or not. You finally find him alone on the edge of camp feeding the horses and securing his tack for his own horse, as usual.

“Hey you," you say with a guarded lightness in your voice as you get closer to him. Arthur has his back to you as he rolls up a bit of rope in his gloved hands. He turns his head upon hearing you, but just slightly; just enough to see who is approaching, but not enough to make direct eye contact. He only responds with a gruff "Hey" of his own before turning back around to continue what he's doing.

"Missed you at dinner. Are you hungry?” you ask.

“No”, his answer short and definitive, his large hands continuing to move about their task.

"You sure?" you press, trying to coax him into engaging with you somewhat as you crane your neck a bit to see if you can look into his face at all.

“I ate while I was out earlier," he answers simply.

“Oh," you reply, disappointed, but still not willing to give up just yet. "Did you get what you needed in town yesterday?”

"Yep." He finishes bundling the rope in his hands at this point and hangs it upon a nail sticking out of the nearby tree. He then moves to sit on a stump he'd pulled over earlier and begins to retie and tighten the straps on Buck's saddle.

"I see you got cleaned up while you were out," you observe with approval, a smile upon your face. His hair is cropped shorter and out of his eyes, now. He still has his beard, but it is trimmed much shorter, accenting his chiseled jawline and exposing his strong neck a bit more.

"That a problem?" Arthur cuts back with a bit of snarkiness to it.

"No. I kinda like seeing your face, actually." you reply smartly. This causes Arthur to just huff and shake his head at your comment. (Jesus, this is killing him.)

There is nothing but an awkward silence, as you are just praying for more from him right now. Your heart is starting to break as you stare at him sitting there. There is so much that you want to say to him, but you can't. At least not until you can get him to really talk to you. God, he can be such a stubborn ass sometimes!

"How did the scout go today?" you ask, one last attempt at small talk to try to break the ice. No, its not even ice at this point, but a glacier! Slow-moving, frigid and unforgiving.

“Just fine," is all that you can get from him, not even looking up from what he is doing, not even an inch.

“Hosea seems to think that man skimming the ranchers has a lot of cash stashed somewhere," you suggest.

”I guess," Arthur shrugs indifferent, eyes still focused on the work in front of him.

You stand there looking at him, still wringing your hands. You are wracked with frustration as well as sadness at how this is going right now. “Are you even going to look at me?” you chuckle nervously, the presence of a plea in your voice. Finally, throwing his hands down in a huff, Arthur turns to you, eyebrows raised and definitely looking annoyed, as if pushed to his limits now.

“Yep” you smile tentatively. “That’s you alright." You purse your lips as you exhale deeply before you finally ask the question plaguing your mind. "Are you mad at me, Arthur? Is this about the other night?” you ask hesitantly. You weren't sure just how to approach the subject of what happened in your tent the other night with him, with the kiss and the "sweet" talk and all, but now seemed as good as a time as any to get it out in the open.

“No, I just don’t need you mothering me all the damn time is all,” he says harshly to you.

You stand quietly, still hoping he’ll say something else, but more nothing comes. "Would you even tell me if you were?" you ask softly.

"I already said I wasn’t!" he snaps louder this time. His tone startles you a bit and you blink uncomfortably, shifting your weight where you stand. Arthur immediately regrets the way he's just spoken to you and looks down in shame at his hands at what he's doing again to avoid your gaze on him.

“OK..well," you mumble awkwardly, "I just wanted to make sure you were alright, since I haven't talked to you much lately. I’ll leave you be, then. See ya,” you say gently, as to not offend or push him any further with your presence, and you slowly turn and walk away. It's no use in talking to him when he gets like this and you know it. While Arthur is not one to get angry with you specifically that often, he is known for his temper. So its best not to push the issue at this time, and you decide to cut your losses while you can.

Arthur finally turns completely around to face you and opens his mouth to apologize, lifting his hand to catch your elbow, but finds that you're already hurrying off and that you don't notice his gesture. He is met with nothing but dead space where you were just standing and he finds it so disheartening. He can still smell the scent of lavender lingering in the air from your presence there. He hangs his head low, lacing his hands behind his neck in frustration with himself before looking up again after you. He sighs deeply. “Stupid ass…” he mutters. He’s self sabotaging again. There is so much that he wants to say to you as well, but like you, he can't, as he can't find the words in his tortured mind. And he realizes that he's at a turning point: does he give up on a chance at happiness once again? Or does he fight for it? Are you worth the risk of the heartache that will inevitably come to an outlaw on the run?

From across camp, Hosea watches as you walk away from Arthur, your arms wrapped around yourself to ward off the chill that is not only coming from the night air, but from the man you were just speaking to. His face screws up in thought, letting out a long frustrated sigh. "Leave it be, old man," mutters Ms. Grimshaw, who is sitting next to Hosea, not even looking up from the newspaper she's reading, with a cup of coffee in one hand and a cigarette in the other.

"They're both acting foolish," Hosea huffs, scowling in your direction.

"They're acting young," Ms. Grimshaw corrects him, still not looking up from her paper.

"They ain't that young! And neither am I, for that matter. Jackie needs someone to play with, and I'd like to see another grandchild before I die," he says sternly.

"Hell, that could be as early as tomorrow," scoffs Grimshaw, finally looking at him.

"All the more reason to get on with it," insists Hosea, waiving his hand in emphasis.

She just shakes her head at him with a chuckle. "Kinda presumptuous of you at this early point, don't you think?"

"Are you kidding? I've never seen a more sure bet in my life," he says, reaching over and tapping his finger on her newspaper in emphasis.

Ms Grimshaw looks at him and sighs again, her demeanor more serious now. "Hosea, you gave them each your word not to get involved," she reminds him, flicking her cigarette ash to the grass.

"Yeah, I did...but you didn't," he grins mischievously, a plan slowly forming in his devious mind.

"You are correct, I did not. And I don't want to get involved, either," she says, giving him the raised eyebrow look, instilling her position on the subject.

Hosea knows full well that he's not going to be able to manipulate Susan into doing his bidding. So he simply turns back to watch over the camp again and pouts.

-----------------------------------

The next morning, you're unloading one of the wagons, cleaning it out and taking inventory of supplies. The camp will need to start stocking up soon for the colder months to come. You repack the crates and make a note of what is low and what needs replenished. You crawl around on your hands and knees, pulling boxes and shuffling them around inside the wagon. You've decided to take everything out, sweep out the wagon interior and repack as you go. Some of the wooden crates are heavier than others and you softly grunt as you haul them about. You are so caught-up in your work that you do not hear the footsteps crunching the fallen leaves in the grass behind you.

Seeing you working by yourself, Arthur slowly approaches you, hoping that you'll still be willing to talk to him after last night. "Need a hand with that?" he asks, pointing towards the object of your burden as you bend over to try to lift a crate full of potatoes. His presence startles you a bit, as you were not expecting him. You look over your shoulder, brushing a few strands of hair out of your face and give him a small smile, "Sure". As you straighten up and step aside, laying a hand on your already-aching lower back, Arthur moves around you to effortlessly pick up the box and sets it on the edge of the wagon bed. He pauses for a second, his hand still resting on the crate, trying to think of what to say as he turns to face you now.

"'m sorry about yesterday, (Y/N). I didn’t mean to snap at you like that. I was bein' a crab-ass, as you call it, and just in a mood," his hand waves in the air slightly in emphasis, before it lands on his gun belt.

The sound of Arthur's gravely, but soft voice addressing you makes your heart melt, a surge of relief washing over you. You hate it when you and Arthur are at odds with one another. “It’s OK. Everyone gets that way," giving him a reassuring smile as you cross your arms across your abdomen. "I just wanted to make sure you weren’t mad at me.”

“I don’t think I could ever really be mad at you, (Y/N)," Arthur says. "And if I was, trust me, you’d know it," his head tilts to the side slightly to emphasize his point.

“Well, you’ve always been kind to me," your smile widening now as you look up into his blue eyes. "And that's our deal, remember? You look after me and I'll look after you.”

Your statement makes Arthur smile widely at you in return. "That's right. That is our deal, isn't it?" He gives you a wink.

You offer a bit of a giggle, and return to your task at hand, with Arthur working beside you. With his help, you quickly finish organizing the supply wagon and then walk over to give Mr. Pearson the supply list of inventory. With that finally done and out of the way, you and Arthur sit down at one of tables and start talking as you usually do, and things seem to be back to normal once again. Unknown to either of you, you both silently, and independently, decide in your own minds to put the topic of revealing feelings for each other aside for now. You just started speaking to one another again and neither of you wants to rock the boat right now. There will be time enough to discuss such things later.

“So," starts Arthur casually as he lights himself a cigarette, "you were singing with Javier the other day, and out hunting with Charles yesterday." He shakes out the flame on the match between his large fingertips before tossing it into the grass at this feet. "All that on top of what you already do around here. Is there anything you can’t do?” he asks with friendly sarcasm.

“Well, I don’t know," you reply grinning at him. "I am pretty great.”

“And humble. Don’t forget about humble," he snorts back dryly, cigarette smoke puffing out of his nose.

“Let’s see..." you tap your forefinger to your lips in deep thought. "I don't know how to cut hair," you offer.

“Dually noted for future reference," says Arthur with a nod. "What else?”

You squint your eyes as you think some more. "I don't handle snakes very well," you point your finger at him, confessing your greatest personal weakness.

"Yeah, I know. I was with you last time you came across one," he rolls his eye at you. "Still can't hear out of that ear too well," he grumbles in that heavenly southern drawl of his. "I think the whole damn county heard you screamin'." You chuckle at his response, as you remember that incident vividly and it certainly was not one of your more refined moments.

"I'm not good at juggling," you say matter-of-factly, continuing your list.

"Yeah, well, don't feel too bad about that one. Juggling is stupid," replies Arthur as he shifts his weight where he sits, folding his arms and leaning out on the table and in closer to you now. "What else you got?"

“And I’m not good at fishing, either,” you declare, slowly nodding your head as if you've just admitted to a cardinal sin.

“What?" he sits up straighter as if in shock. "How do you exist in the world?” he scolds.

“Arthur, in all the months that we've known each other, haven't you noticed that I never volunteer to go fishing with you?", you ask admonishingly. "Fish are disgusting," you wrinkle your nose at the thought of it. "They're tasty, but disgusting.”

“Well, I just can't have that," Arthur shakes his head at you, pretending as if ashamed. "Looks like I'm gonna have to take you out and teach you, then.” His blue eyes crinkle into as subtle smile again.

You giggle at the banter between you and Arthur, as this makes you the happiest. Arthur doesn’t have this kind of rapport with anyone else in camp and you relish the idea that you're somewhat special because of it.

You and Arthur are so caught-up in your conversation that you do not notice Hosea as he walks over to the two of you. “Well, don’t you two look pleased with yourselves”, he greets you both warmly and sits down next to Arthur at the table.

“Good morning, Hosea," you say sweetly. "Oh! I’m glad you’re here," you perk up a bit more, suddenly distracted with a new thought. "I wanted to know if I could pick your brain a bit."

The man's curiosity is peaked at your request. “Oh?” he asks as he fidgets in the chair, trying to get comfortable.

"Yes," you exclaim excitedly. "With the autumn almost on us, the local plants are dwindling fast. I need to stock up on whatever I can find for medical supplies going into the winter. Arthur is always telling me that you're quite the herbalist. I was hoping to discuss plants and herbs with you and maybe even have you take me out and show me what you’ve found in the area? If we work together I'm sure we can amass quite a stash."

“Really?" Hosea's eyes widen with surprise. He is not used to someone needing him for his other talents, outside of for robbing and stealing. And certainly not one of the women.

"Sure," you smile at him. "Besides, Arthur has made it very clear I am not to leave the camp on my own," you say with an eye roll in Arthur's direction. "So who better to take me out than the one who taught him, right?" You look to Hosea like an excited child, your eyes bright and wide, your face leaning in towards him as your shoulders hunched a bit in expectation of his answer. Hosea is an important man in this group, so you are not sure if he has the time to run around with you looking for plants of all things.

But to your surprise, rather than declining your request for his precious time, Hosea’s chest swells with pride, a grin dancing across his weathered face, one that almost reaches up to touch the silver hair at his temples. “Why, I’d be honored Miss (Y/L/N). We can even go later today if you wish. I’m more than happy to share what I know," he says, appreciative of your respect of his knowledge. "Lord knows I’ve tried to show this one time and again," he points at Arthur. "Oh, I could tell you quite a few stories about this one,” he chuckles with a wave.

"Don’t start,” warns Arthur, his eyebrows pulled in annoyance.

"You see, (Y/N), we had a hell of a time getting Arthur, here, to do anything in the beginning. He was a wild child when Dutch and I found him. Teaching this boy anything was a real struggle at first." He shakes his head at the memory of it all. It seems like a lifetime ago now, like it happened to someone else entirely. "Hell, Bessie couldn't even get him to clean himself up. Seems she was always after him, chasing him around with a bar of soap in her hand. He used to share a bath with his dog!”

"No!" you laugh, covering your mouth with your hand, trying to stifle your laugh at Arthur's expense. Arthur just sighs and rolls his eyes before staring down Hosea. "Shows what you know. I loved that dog," he sulks in his defense.

"Ahem!" Suddenly, you all hear Dutch clearing his throat to announce his presence as he walks over. “I'd hate to break up your little tea party over here," the dark-haired man says, crossing his strong arms over his broad chest as he now has your group's attention, "but, Arthur I need you to come with me. Looks like we got a pressing opportunity to discuss. Something about a supply train coming through."

Arthur's face drops a little in disappointment, not wanting to get up and change company at the moment. Sensing Arthur's discouragement, "Don’t worry, Arthur," Hosea speaks up and pats the younger man on the back reassuringly. "I’ll keep Miss (Y/N) entertained. I got alot more stories than that one ”, and Hosea gives you a wink from across the table.

“'Little Arthur' stories, oh I am so happy right now”, you tease, clasping your hands together in excitement.

“I swear, Hosea, just because you’re old doesn’t mean I won’t beat your ass,” Arthur throws a half-hearted threat at the man with a glare to match, causing both you and Dutch to chuckle a bit again at the two of them bickering.

"Dutch, you remember all the trouble Arthur used to get into?" asks Hosea, turning his attention to his long-time friend, with a twinkle in his eye as he lights himself a cigarette.

"Do I?" scoffs Dutch. "Jesus, I was just waiting for Bessie to toss a rope around his ankles and drag 'em behind one of the horses," he chuckles. "But she never did, though, bless her heart. She had endless patience." Dutch's eyes go soft at the memory of his dear friend, now long gone these many years.

"That's 'cause she liked me better than either of you two," declares Arthur proudly.

"Oh, I don't doubt that for even a second." Dutch confirms with a warm smile. And, after a brief moment, he shakes the memory from his mind like cleaning a cobweb caught in a window. "Anyway," waiving his arm dismissively, "Come walk with me, Arthur. We have much to discuss and plan for." And Dutch gets that devilish grin that you all know too well.

“Don’t worry, Arthur" Hosea insists again. "I will only speak the truth to (Y/N) while you're otherwise occupied," says the older gentleman, holding up his hand as if swearing to it.

Now that Hosea knows how he really feels about you, Arthur is a little nervous as to what the old man could say to you while he's off with Dutch. Hosea did promise that he wouldn't say anything about the matter, though; that he'd let Arthur handle it on his own. But, then again, Hosea is a professional con-artist.

Arthur falls silent, contemplating the options, and looks between you and Hosea, as you are now clearly two peas in a pod, as they say. Both you and Hosea sit smiling innocently back at Arthur. But he knows that you two are far from innocent. “I hate you both,” he pouts as he pushes himself up from his chair to follow Dutch, who only shakes his head and gives a slight chuckle, leaving you and Hosea snickering amongst yourselves as you watch Arthur walk away.

------------------------------

A few hours later, when he comes back to camp with Dutch and John from meeting their source of the train tip, Arthur is delighted to see that you and Hosea are still sitting together, but now over by the main fire, smiling and talking over a cup of coffee. The sight makes Arthur feel content to see his two favorite people in the world getting on so well together. He takes a moment to watch the two of you chatting cheerfully about something or other. After the anxiety of the last few days, Arthur is beyond happy that all of that business seems to be behind him now. He still needs to deal with his feelings for you. But for now, that can wait. As for now, all seems right with his world again once more.

”Oh, great. You two are still hanging around each other.” Arthur feigns annoyance, playing it cool as he saunters over to the fire to join you.

“Ah, Arthur, there you are! Come, come...join us!" says Hosea, waving at Arthur to sit, which he does, taking the spot on the other side of you. "(Y/N) and I had the most splendid day today!" Hosea exclaims as he affectionately pats your arm next to him.

“Hosea just may be the most interesting person I’ve ever met,” you interject with a chirp, smiling brightly at Hosea before turning to Arthur with an even bigger one.

"Is that right?" deadpans Arthur, attempting to suppress the grin forming in the corners of his mouth.

“Miss Y/N thinks I’m charming,” gloats Hosea, pointing at Arthur to make sure he hears his point.

“Yeah, well, you gotta remember, she drinks a lot," Arthur teases as he gives you a smirk, causing your mouth to drop open in offense before you back-hand his bicep, trying not to laugh.

“Hey! Watch it, Morgan!”

*Hope you guys liked this one! @CHILDOFSUMMERSGONE

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