#Vasquez x Mexican reader | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

topazy · 2 years ago

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Inside, outside

Pairings: 10K x reader, Addy Carver sister x reader

Warnings: Mentions of blood, swearing, violence

Chapter: 2.12

Feeling a presence behind you, you turned back to see Vasquez walking in your direction. He sat down on the log across from you.

“Can’t sleep either, I’m guessing.”

You glanced back down at the notepad sitting on your lap. “Nah, I took over from Addy early. Besides, it’s hard to sleep on the grass when I can’t stop imagining bugs crawling all over me.”

“You're in a zombie apocalypse and you're more concerned about spiders crawling into your hair,” he said, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lip.

“Exactly.”

“What are you looking at?”

You handed him the notepad and noticed the way his eyes opened in surprise. “This is something. Some of these are horrifying, no offence.”

You shrug, “none taken. That’s why I took those pictures. So I won't forget.”

“I don’t think anyone will be forgetting the rotten monsters that rose from the dead anytime soon.”

You scoff at his words. Vasquez had the ability to make you feel incredibly dumb just by the tone of his voice alone. It wasn’t that you disliked him, you just didn’t understand him.

“I don't want to forget their faces,” you said as you reached for your notepad. “I don’t have pictures of my family from before the apocalypse and I sometimes struggle to remember them, so I’m making sure to take pictures of the fucked up family I have now.”

“I get it,” Vasquez pulled his dog tags over his neck and handed them to you. The first thing you noticed was a wedding ring. “I can’t remember what my wife's voice was like.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t even know you were married… did she die during the apocalypse?”

“No,” he deadpanned. You regretted asking when you saw his jaw tense. “I was a DEA agent. I worked for the US Mexican task force. I’d been assigned to dismantle the Zero cartel, but something went wrong. They found out who I was. They kidnapped my wife, Angie, and our baby girl, Julia. He shot them right in front of me.”

Your stomach twisted in knots. “I’m so sorry, Vasquez. That must have been awful. I hope the son of the bitches who did it is dead.”

“Not yet, but I’ll get my revenge one day.”

—

Your group was currently surrounded by Z's and were running low on ammo.

“Now would be the time to pull a miracle out of your ass Murphy!” you yelled while stepping back.

You’d made it to the Mexican border easily enough, but when another car crashed into you, the sounds of the horns blaring attracted an onslaught of the infected.

As you braced yourself for the worst, somebody else began shooting at the dead. Somebody opened the window from inside the border wall and whistled for you all to follow him.

When you jumped down into a hallway, you realised it was the same men who ran the Z weed farm. Hector, or Escorpion, as he was known as, You groaned as Murphy stepped forward and told the bounty hunters he was ‘the Murphy’. He was incapable of keeping his mouth shut. You kept your gun pointed at Hector as Murphy pulled off his top to show his zombie bite scars.

Satisfied that Murphy was the real deal, Hector orders his men to back off and says a woman named La Reina is looking for your group to give them a reward.

—

You let out a gasp as you followed Hector outside into his people's garden. It was beautiful. All the plants were well maintained, with blossoming flowers beside them.

“Did you catch what he just said?” Your sister asks.

“No, why? Was it important?”

She rolled her eyes and smiled, “yes.” She whispered. “The person in charge is called the Queen of the Dead and has been watching us with drones.”

“Who doesn’t at this point?”

A brunette with a lot of tattoos on her face was waiting by the front door of the building you were walking up to. She whispered something to Hector and then moved back.

Hector nodded. “La Reina awaits your presence.”

—

La Reina greeted Murphy as if he was a celebrity and shared that she’d been sending her best men to hunt him down. She refused to say why she was hunting him down and insisted on showing everyone instead.

She shot you a wink as she walked by, “no need for weapons here.”

Reluctantly, you handed your weapons over to her men, “Try not to lose them.”

You waited for Warren, who was walking towards you with a fake smile on her face with Addy on the other side of her. “What’s the plan here?”

“Stay alive. Get out when we can with Murphy.”

—

“Welcome to my laboratory.”

The first thing you notice is the dead body on the table. Grimacing, you walk by it quickly. La Reina told you on the walk over that her doctor had been working on a cure so she could dispute the cure all over the world. The only thing she needed was Murphy’s blood.

So far her intentions seemed pure, she wanted to help others and not just herself.

The second door leading into the room opened and Kurian walked inside.

10K stepped in front of you protectively.

“Murphy,” Kurian says, stepping closer. His smile fades when he spots you. “You little-”

“You son of a bitch,” your sister spat.

Warren shook her head, “So this is where the zeros took you. I thought they were going to kill you.”

“I'm glad they didn't,” you say as you take a step ahead of the others. “Now I can do it myself.”

10K and Doc held you back from swinging at him. La Reina rolls her eyes, “you two know each other?”

“You hear about the nuclear strike in Colorado? He’s the one behind it.”

“Colorado?” La Reina shot Kurian a glare. “That’s where you went off with all my money?”

“I am mending my ways now. Plus, I would have come back sooner if that little bitch hadn’t shot me in the leg.”

“You shot him?”

“You're lucky I missed. I was aiming for your head!”

10K put his arm around your waist and pulled you closer to stop you from going any closer to the doctor.

“Lieutenant,” La Reina says, unimpressed as she steps in front of Warren. “I understand you and your people. If someone tried to kill me, I would not rest until I took my revenge, but nobody is going to kill my doctor, are they?”

“No.”

“Why not? I would.”

You could sense Warren’s hesitation, so you answered for her. “Because you took our guns.”

La Reina let out a loud laugh, “Yes I did. But something tells me a smart woman like you can make weapons out of anything, huh?”

“Yes.”

“So why not kill him?”

Warren cuts in, “because he might be the only one who can make a cure. We can settle our personal scores once humanity is saved.”

—

The air was thick with tension as Warren decided what the next move was.

La Reina had given your group two options. Either accept the bounty and go, or join the cartel and become a part of their society. Reluctantly, Warren agreed for you all to stay, as it was the safer option.

“All right,” La Reina said as she walked away. “We just have one test left.”

You let out a scream as a man placed a bag over your head and began dragging you backwards.

—

You felt sick to your stomach as you watched the bounty hunters above you placing bets. Hector had just explained to you that the final test was to see who the last man standing was, so your group was locked together in a small pit.

They had given you weapons to choose from. With not much of a choice left, you picked up two daggers and stood beside 10K. “Are you as scared as I am?”

You could hear the tremble in his voice as he spoke, but he lied anyway. “No, we’ve got this. We always find a way.”

Hector waves his hand for the cell door to be opened, “round one.”

A single Z appears, and Addy quickly stabs it in the head.

Hector nods, pretending to be impressed. “Okay, final round.” More than a dozen Z’s charge at the cell door, all snarling desperately to get through to the other side. “I’m going to do you a favour. To speed things up, why don’t we kill the lights? Las Luces.”

The lights went off as the door to the cell opened. The moment the Z’s poured in, the fight to survive started. You stabbed every Z that got close to you in the head. You could feel the blood and guts spattering over you but were pushed back by the urge to vomit.

When the lights came on, you were happy to see all your group unbitten. “It's a wonder you've lived this long. I could use zero’s like you.”

“Can I join your damn club now?” Warren spat.

“Just one more thing…”

—

You had expected La Reina to say you had more Z’s or with another person to join, but instead her final demand was to look the part.

You sat uncomfortably in a hairdressing chair while a man curled your hair. Makeup was applied to your face the minute after you came out of the shower, as well as having your clothes picked out for you.

A strapless brown leather dress was laid out on the bed, along with black heels. It wasn’t something you’d ever have chosen for yourself, nor was it practical for an apocalypse.

With no choice, you had to go along with La Reina's ridiculous make-up plan. When the hairdresser was finished, you were led into a room where your sister, Doc, and Warren were all ready to go.

“Damn Warren,” you said, noticing how low-cut her dress was at the chest. “I was more afraid to put this thing on the risk of being chased by Z's.”

When you fully entered the room, Doc wolf whistled at you while Addy’s jaw swung open. “You look good, Astra. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this dressed up before.”

“You too, your heels are very deadly.”

“At the very least, I can use it as a weapon,” she scrunched up her face at the large spikes protruding from her shoes. “I don’t like how shiny we all are.”

Vasquez entered the room next, and straight away his eyes traced every curve on Warren’s body. It was obvious he was starting to develop feelings for her.

“I feel weird,” 10K said, stepping in last. He paused when he noticed you, causing you to blush. His eyes linger on you, “wow.”

“10K roll your tongue back into your mouth,” Warren says, with a hint of amusement in her voice. “We gotta go find out what the hell is going on.”

—

You let out a huff as another bag was pulled off your head. Since your group was new and not fully trusted yet, you weren’t allowed to see where anything was.

You were led to a balcony that looked over a Day of the Dead themed party. Hector demanded the guests stop what they were doing as their queen approached. La Reina walked out to the balcony directly across the room with a red lace veil covering her face. She pulled it back once she had everyone’s attention, “My people, we have suffered for a very long time. Lives we once knew have been torn apart.”

You zoned out of her speech when you noticed Murphy dressed like a price sitting by the fireplace. Oh shit. Whatever was about to happen wasn’t going to be good.

A zero approach to your group with some of the weapons you came in with. “Tonight we make them one of us!” La Reina pointed over at you.

Warren nodded graciously as the crowd below cheered. She motioned for the rest of you to go look around.

You stood beside your sister at a window looking into the back garden. You noticed some of the cartel members hitting a Z that was hanging upside down with a stick blindfolded. “A zombie pinata? That’s vile. What are they expecting to get out of it?”

She frowned, “drugs.”

—

You jumped, feeling a hand resting on your back. “God, Tommy, you scared me.”

“My bad,” he smiled. “Astra, you honestly look…”

“Uncomfortable?”

He chuckles. “I was going to say beautiful, but your face looks extremely red. Why would anyone wear those deliberately?”

“All the women here are wearing heels,” you say quietly. “I think the queen likes her people to be dressed a certain way.”

“Why did we all need to get dressed though?" We aren’t her people.”

“Because we are her shiny new toys. Although, I’m guessing the women need to wear these outfits all the time to fit in.”

You kissed 10K on the lips, seeing him pout slightly. He didn’t like the idea of women being dressed up as objects either.

You smile when Doc walks over with a full plate of food, “You kids have got to try—what is she doing?”

You spin round to see Warren running across the room. Your eyes move to Vasquez, who is pointing a gun at Hector. Oh god, it’s him. He’s the one. The penny finally clicked for you and you realised Hector was the one who killed Vasquez's wife and daughter.

Warren knocks the gun out of Vasquez's hand and points it at him while three men grab him and pull him back.

The room fills with cheers of applause and victory as they mistakenly think Warren did that to save the queen of the dead.

—

“We gotta get out of here. Like now,” Doc says in a hushed tone.

“Yeah, we'll, if I knew what the hell was going on, I might have known what to do,” Addy says sharply. “How did Warren know what he was going to do?”

“He was going to kill Hector.”

“Kid, do you know something we don't?”

“I think so,” you said, looking around at the rest of the cartel. They were staring at the four of you. “I’ll fill you in when we get out of here.”

The music in the room stopped as Kurian approached the queen. “My queen, I have it. I have made the vaccine. The zombie plague is over. I’ve done it.”

You noticed the smug look on Murphy's face. Something wasn’t right.

“What have you done? Tell me!” La Reina demanded.

Kurian held up a small bottle of light pink liquid. “I present to you your H1Z1 vaccine. This serum makes the zombie virus impotent. Now a zombie bite will be like nothing and when you die you stay dead.”

“Show me, show me how this works.”

At his queen's command, Kurian turned to address the rest of the room, “I will just need a volunteer.”

When he smiled in your direction, Addy, Doc and 10K practically shoved you behind them. Kurian smirked and went to say something, but stopped when Hector entered the room with a prisoner.

“I've got the man for you, doctor Kurian,” he says, pushing Vasquez to his knees.

You let out a horrified gasp upon seeing the cuts and bruises that covered Vasquez's face and body.

You held your breath as you watched Vasquez being held in place as Dr. Kurian prepared to inject him with the vaccine.

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sellyoursoulforagoodfic · 5 years ago

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20/50 Kisses: On a Scar

Vasquez x reader

Word Count: 586

It’d been about three months since the battle for Rose Creek, and to say that things had been rough would be a gross understatement that could only be compared to someone saying ‘Goodnight Robicheaux was good with a rifle’. As one of the people that aided the Seven in the fight against Bogue, you had witnessed first hand the bloodshed and skill held by the men that saved your little town. During their stay both before and after the battle, you had grown quite close to the Mexican member of the Seven, Vasquez. To the point where you hopped on your horse and joined him as he, Sam, and Red Harvest rode out of town.

Which was what led you to your current location: holed up in a cabin in the middle of nowhere months later. Vasquez had been hesitant to form an attachment to you at first given his status as a wanted man, but he eventually relented when he realized that you were easily as stubborn as him and your heart was set on joining him. Sure you were leaving behind some friends, but you had no family left, no land, nothing really tying you to Rose Creek. Living life as a drifter beside a wanted criminal was hardly going to be the big, monumental shift Vasquez thought it would be.

Once he came around to the fact that you weren’t going to leave his side come hell or high water, the man allowed himself to fall for you completely. And when Vasquez allowed him to experience real emotions, he felt them soul deep. Not that you would have it any other way.

But all the leadup to the way you two got together left its marks.

He’d gotten close to the rest of the Seven, and the loss of more than half of their ragtag little gang did something to him. Left its mark much like the War left its mark on Goody. Faraday’s death, especially, hurt him, leading to nightmares and times where he just seemed to zone out for several minutes at a time. Those times were the worst. His normally smiling face twisted into a haunted frown . . . You hated it every time.

Nights like this, though, you could handle. You woke to the low mumblings that usually indicated that the man you loved was in the midst of one of those nightmares. As usual, you rolled over to face him--well, his back since he was turned away. You gently shook his arm and called his name until he jerked a little, signaling his return to the waking world.

“You okay, Corazoncito?” he mumbled, turning his head slightly so his bleary eyes could just glimpse you out of his peripherals.

“Of course, Vas. You were just having a nightmare.”

“Fuck,” he sighed, head flopping back down. “Thanks for waking me up.”

Your response was only to press a kiss to the scar on his shoulder from the bullet that’d ripped through it that day in Rose Creek. It was something you always did on nights like this. The scar was a reminder of what you lost to get here, but also the good that had come from it.

“Go back to sleep, baby,” he mumbled, hand moving to lightly trace your thigh.

“Only if you do too.”

A quiet snore was the reply you got, pulling a quiet laugh out of you. Quickly after, you followed your lover back to sleep, forehead pressed into his back as you held him close.

#vasquez x reader #vasquez imagine #mag7 imagine #magnificent 7 imagine #magnificent seven imagine #reader insert #50 kisses

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shenanigans-and-imagines · 7 years ago

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I Found You

Not my Gif

Vasquez x Reader, Soulmate AU, Lots of Angst

AO3 Link/ Support Me on Ko-fi

Summary: You’ve been searching for your soulmate your whole life, but this wasn’t how you expected to find him.

A/N: This was originally intended to be part of Mag 7 Week, but I wasn’t able to finish it in time. This turned out a lot angsty than I originally intended, so tell me if you want a sequel with a happy ending.

Word Count: 3.6 K

A bolt of electricity, that’s how your mother always described it. It starts with where ever they touch you and spreads all over your body, and when you look at them, it’s like the world starts over again.

You always loved it whenever your mother told you about meeting your father for the first time. She’d get a faraway look in her eye and any troubles of the day would melt away in an instant. She always promised that someday you would experience the same thing. You would meet your soulmate and your drab black and white world would burst with color.

You tried to get her to described it to you, but to no avail. She’d simply say you’d have to wait and see, but you were always an impatient child. You made a habit of brushing against people on the street. You’d spread your hands wide hoping somebody might bump into you and strike your body with lightning, but it never came.

As you got older, you were told such behavior was immature. You couldn’t force your hand. You had to let the universe guide you.

You always countered by saying the universe was guiding you to brush your hands with strangers. Some people found it funny, but most adults thought you were just being a smart mouth. You weren’t deterred though. Your soulmate was out there somewhere, and nobody was going to tell you to just sit and wait.

When you were eighteen, you got the sudden urge to move. You didn’t know where it came from. The four walls of your room felt confining. The house you lived in too restrictive. The city too crowded.

You had been reading about the west: the open spaces, the mountains, the never-ending valleys and the men and women who made it their home. You thought about your soulmate and how they couldn’t possibly be from the city. You could feel it in your bones. You needed to get out there. You couldn’t articulate why, but the need burned in your heart stronger than anything you had ever experience before. You packed your things that night and bought a ticket the next morning.

You left a note for your mother, explaining everything. You promised to write and told her you would be careful and that you hoped she would understand. It would all work out, you promised. Your soulmate was out there. You knew it.

Oh, how naïve you were then.

You arrived in California with a single suitcase and barely a fist full of dollars to your name. You had fantasized meeting your soulmate somewhere on the station platform. You thought maybe it could be the coach driver or some handsome cowboy on the street, but the longer you stayed the more your faith wavered.

You got a job at the local saloon, thinking it would be the best place to meet new people coming into town, but it never sat well with you. Something about the place never felt right, until one morning you felt that same push telling you it was time to move on. You saved up enough money for a horse and rode your way out of town.

After a while, you stopped keeping track of how many towns you wandered into; how many bars you worked in, how many supply shops, how many farms, all in the same black and white. You weren’t even sure how long you had been out west, but you were no closer to finding your soulmate then you were when you were eight years old brushing up against strangers on the street.

There were times you wondered if you should cut your losses and go back home, but you always found a reason to stay. You had made life for yourself out west, an odd life, but still a life that was unapologetically yours. You didn’t belong to anyone or anything. The only thing that truly controlled you was the white-hot need in your chest that overruled any doubt that crept into your mind.

Your travels eventually took you to a small town in the hills not far out of San Francisco. You had been there a few months, the longest you had stayed anywhere since you first arrived out west. The people in the town recognized you my name. Even the store keeper you had been working for trusted you to lock up on certain nights after closing.

You tried to fight the twisting feeling of anticipation in your stomach. Staying didn’t mean anything. It just meant you hadn’t felt the need to move in a while. It had nothing to do with your soulmate, or so you kept telling yourself. Still, it didn’t stop you from lying awake at night, starring at the ceiling wondering where they were at that moment, and if they were thinking of you too.

You went about your day as usual in the shop, filling out orders and straightening things up. Soon enough the last of the customer’s left as the sun was going down leaving you alone to close everything up.

You were straightening up the front displays when you heard the sound of horse hooves coming down the street. You looked out and saw some of the sheriff and his deputies going through the streets. Some staying behind to check the alleys while a few more rode on past the shop.

Your heart started to beat a little faster in your chest. You went to the front door, locking it and closing the curtains. Whatever trouble was outside, you defiantly didn’t want it coming in. You finished up the last of the sweeping in the front room and looked around going through a mental check list of everything you had to do. It was then your stomach dropped out from under you.

The back room. You had a supply come in earlier that day. You forgot to lock the back door.

You immediately ran to the back, opening the door wide. The only light available came from the lanterns in the front room, but it was just enough for you to see the backdoor.

You breathed a small sigh of relief to see it was still closed.

You crossed the space in a second, locking the door with a hard click. The moment you did, your body relaxed. You were sure the owner wouldn’t mind if you stayed the night since the sheriff was scouring the streets.

You turned back towards the front when a small movement caught your eye. You looked back, you heart stopping.

In the darkness, you could just make out the silhouette of a large man towering in the corner.

You froze. Your throat tightened so you couldn’t even scream. All you could do was stand wide eyed and completely unarmed.

To you surprise, the man raised his hands, and cautiously stepped into the light.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said softly.

To your own surprise, you didn’t move. A strange curiosity took over, silencing your instincts to run. You could make out the outline of a strong jaw, lightly covered in a three day scruff, and well as the reflection of clear dark eyes. His voice was low and calm, and carried a distinct Mexican accent.

Despite circumstances, his entire being put you oddly at ease. His features were just as calm as his voice, but you could tell he was examining you in the same way you were examining him. You looked further down taking in the rest of him. You were starting to appreciate just how tall he actually was when two glints of metal caught your attention.

You felt your heart beat pick up again, finally noticing the two guns hanging off his belt.

Without a second thought you bolted.

You only got a few paces when you felt the man grab your arm pulling you back.

You tried to yank out of his grip, but he held and you tight and pushed your back against the shelving along the wall.

“Get off me!” you shouted, struggling against him.

“Quiet,” he snapped.

His hands gripped your arms to your sides as he used his whole body to keep you trapped. You fought back anyway, trying to kick and wriggle your way out.

“Let me go! Let me go you son of a bitch!”

“Silencio! I’m not going to hurt you.”

You kept on anyway, as you tried to twist your arms out of his grip.

“Listen to me,” he said. “Look at me.”

He gave your shoulders a quick shake forcing you to look at him.

You were taken aback by the sight. In your struggles, you hadn’t noticed just how close he was to you. His face hovering just a few inches from yours. There was something in his face. He wasn’t threatening you. His eyes were more desperate than that.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, his voice going calm once again. “But I need you to be quiet.”

You opened your mouth to say something smart when a knock came at the door.

Before you could even decide if you were going to call for help, the man pressed his hand over your mouth.

The moment his hand touched your skin, you felt it. The bolt of electricity starting from his fingers and moving all the way across your face and down your spine until you felt it throughout your whole body.

Your initial instinct was to pull away, but he kept his hand where it was. You stared at each other, his face looking just as shocked as you felt. It was then you saw it.

The black of his eyes dissolved away revealing a mesmerizing shade of dark brown. You remained transfixed of them, even as the color continued across his face and down his body. You hardly noticed the tone of the room shift from harsh white light to soft golden yellows.

You couldn’t look away. You hadn’t realized how much the slightest shift in color could make such a difference in how one saw a person. His eyes weren’t dark and intimidating, they were soulful, unwavering, and quite simply, the most beautiful things you had ever seen in your life.

He couldn’t seem to look away from you either. His whole body was stiff with shock. He stared at you in complete wonder. He looked down towards you lips, and quickly jerked his hand away as if suddenly aware of what he was doing.

You caught his hand, holding it in the small space between your faces.

You needed him close. You couldn’t say why, but you needed to touch him. You needed to make sure he was real.

Another knock came at the door, startling you both out of your thoughts.

The man turned his head towards the door, as he free hand went for his gun.

“No,” you said quietly, but firmly.

He looked to you, surprise evident on his face.

“Let me take care of it,” you said.

He opened his mouth to protest when another knock came at the door.

“Y/N,” a voice called.

The man looked back to you, uncertainly.

“Trust me,” you whispered.

He stared at you for a moment, looking your face over. Then, reluctantly, he nodded.

You gave a small smile in appreciation, just as one more knock came to the door.

“Y/N, you in there?” the voice asked.

“Coming,” you shouted towards the door, before turning back to the man. “Stay here.”

He gave a small nod as you slipped past him, closing the back door partially behind you. You tried not the focus on the small burst of color from one of the piles of fabric, or the blue lettering of the prices thrown about the store.

Keeping your breathing steady, you unlocked the front door.

One of the sheriff deputies, George, stood in front of you looking rather nervous.

“Sorry to bother you Y/N, just, I saw the lights were still on and I figured I’d just make sure you were alright.”

You gave an easy smile, trying your best to look relaxed.

“I was just cleaning up in back,” you said. “Why something wrong?”

“Outlaw came ridding into town,” George said. “Apparently he killed a ranger back in Texas or something. He was spotted in the saloon, but he split before we could get there. Thought he might be hiding somewhere in town.”

You felt your heart rate spike at the news.

“Wouldn’t he had bolted?” you asked.

“We were on him pretty fast,” George explained. “Don’t think he had time to get his horse. This is just a formality, but have you seen anything?”

The logical part of your brain told you this was exact moment to tell George the truth.

Soulmate or not he killed a man. You didn’t know him. Hell, you didn’t even know his name. But the words caught in your throat.

Killer or not, he was your soulmate. You couldn’t let him hang, not without talking to him, not without at least learning his name. You had spent so long looking, you couldn’t lose him now.

“No,” you said, “been quite all night.”

George nodded his head.

“Alright, well, do you need as escort home?”

“No, I’m alright,” you said sweetly. “Think I’ll just stay here the night until it all blows over.”

George looked uncertain, but he nodded his head in understanding.

“Well, if you say so,” he said. “But you be needing anything, give me a holler.”

“I will,” you promised. “Good luck.”

George smiled in thanks, and walked his way back to his horse and rode off into the night.

Just as he was out of sight, you closed the front door again, locking it behind you. You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you had been holding. Your fingers shook slightly around the door handle as you tried to get a grip on yourself.

It was then you heard the back-room door open behind you followed by a pair of heavy boot steps.

“Are you alright,” the man asked.

You straightened up, and turned look at him.

He looked strangely vulnerable now you were able to see him fully, almost awkward. It was as if he didn’t know where to put his hands, as he shifted back and forth in his stance. It was hard to imagine not a moment ago the same man put you in fear for your life.

“Yes and no,” you said. “Is it bad I don’t feel guilty about lying?”

“I think the fact that you asked me that, says you’re a better person than most,” he said.

A silence fell between you as a question held unsaid in the air. You waited for him to say something, but it was clear he wasn’t going to say a word unless you asked.

“He said you killed someone,” you said carefully. “Did you?”

His jaw clench, but he didn’t look angry with you, rather a memory he would never be able to shake.

“Yes.”

“Can I ask why?”

“He hurt my family,” he said simply. “I was trying to keep them safe. Didn’t do much good in the end.”

You look him over carefully, looking for a lie, but you couldn’t find any. His emotions were to raw and real to be anything else.

“Sounds like he had it coming then,” you said.

He looked at you in surprise. Hell, you surprised yourself, but you knew you meant it as soon as the words left your mouth.

He looked over your face searching for something you couldn’t name. His whole body strained, divided between closing the space between you and staying where he stood.

You wanted desperately to know what he was thinking.

His eyes moved away from you. You felt the shift immediately as he took a step back.

“I have to go.”

“Wait!”

He stopped before he could even turn away, as he looked at you with a strange look.

You didn’t intend to sound as desperate as you did, but it couldn’t be helped.

“Please,” you said softly. “I’ve been looking for you for so long. Please, I just want to talk to you. At least give me your name.”

For a brief moment, you thought he wouldn’t tell you, that he would go off into the night and you would never see him again, but he stayed.

“Vasquez,” he said.

You felt a small smile spread across your face at the sound of it.

“You got a first name to go with that?” you asked.

“Not one I usually give,” he said.

You could tell he meant the words to come out harsher than they did, but he tone was too defeated to have it any real bite.

His head began to shake as his eyes drifted from your face and down to the floor.

“I wasn’t expecting to find you,” he confessed.

You felt yourself freeze. The words sunk through your skin and into your heart. Your throat grew tight with emotion as your mind tried to catch up with your feelings.

“You mean you didn’t want to find me,” you said.

Saying out loud hurt more than you expected, but the look on his face made it even worse.

“Not in the way you’re thinking.”

“And what am I thinking?”

His expression grew soft as he looked at you.

“You’re more than I could have hoped for,” he said. “But I can’t be responsible for someone else, especially not you.”

Your mind finally settled on anger as you straightened your stance.

“I can look after myself.”

“That’s not the point.”

“Then what?” you snapped. “You’re my soulmate. Life or death, right or wrong, it doesn’t matter, that is a fact. Do you really expect for me to just forget you?”

“You have to,” he retorted. “You’ve gone this long without me. You don’t need me for the rest.”

You didn’t want to believe your ears. You shook your head as if that would somehow knock the words out of your mind.

“But I found you,” you said, sounding as lost as you felt.

Vasquez didn’t say anything, but he didn’t walk away either. The conflict still raged on in his features, but his body wasn’t as ridged as before.

Taking a chance, you took a small step towards him.

He didn’t move.

You took another, and then another and another until there was only a foot between you.

He couldn’t meet your eyes.

Cautiously, you reached out and gently took his hand in yours.

You felt the same electricity again, subtler this time, but still there. You didn’t feel the need to jerk away and to your surprise, neither did Vasquez.

His grip tightened around yours as he ran his thumb across your skin. It felt nice, natural, as if you had been doing it your whole lives.

“I know it will be hard,” you said quietly. “But can’t we just try?”

The silence persisted. You glanced up surprised to see his eyes staring down at you.

He took a small step towards you as his hand reached out, cupping your cheek as if you were made of glass.

You closed your eyes as you leaned into his touch. You were home. You felt the need evaporate from your chest. You wouldn’t have to wander anymore. You found him.

You opened your eyes meeting his once more.

There was hardly any space between you. You could feel his warm from his body and breath play against your skin. All if would take was one of you to lean forward to taste the other. You wanted to. You never wanted something so desperately in your life, but you didn’t move. It was up to him.

The tension held thick in the air.

His eyes shifted subtly to your lips. Your eyes closed as he leaned forward. But his lips never touched yours.

His grip on your cheek tightened as if struggling to find some kind of balance. He was only a hair’s distance away from you, you could feel his warm breath against your lips.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I can’t.”

You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t move. You were certain you heart stopped beating in your chest.

You felt him pull away from you and a coldness you never knew before took over your body. You didn’t know what to do.

Finally, you opened your eyes.

Devastation and a desperate need for you to understand stood strongly on his face.

You hated it. How dare he look at you as if he wasn’t the one ripping out your heart. How dare he think he was the one being hurt the most by his actions. Hot tears spilled down your face as your throat grew tight.

“You’re a coward,” you spat.

He looked at you in complete an utter silence. He couldn’t even defend himself. He turned his back to you, making his way towards the backroom.

“I’ll call the sheriff on you,” you shouted after him. “So help me God, I will.”

He stopped in his tracks, but it wasn’t out of fear. He glanced over his shoulder as a look of pity took over his features.

“No, you won’t,” he said.

You wanted to prove him wrong. You wanted to scream at the top of your lungs. You wanted to make him stay, but you knew you couldn’t. You couldn’t watch him die, not for anything.

Without another word, he walked out the door.

The sounds of the night took over your world once more. The emptiness of the room and the world felt more apparent to you then ever. The colors of fabric, the bright store signs and the warmth of the candles all tormented you as the burning need started pressing into your heart.

You ignored it. You wouldn’t let it control you anymore. You couldn’t let it.

He was gone, and you would never see him again.

#vasquez #vasquez x reader #the magnificent seven #mag7 #mag 7 #mag7 imagines #mag 7 imagines #vasquez imagines #The Magnificent 7 #magnificent 7 #magnificent seven #angst #reader insert

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janeaddamspeace · 7 years ago

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Children's Immigration Story Project and Edwidge Danticat: Young Americans' Dreams Deferred #JACBA Newsletter 22Sept2017

Save the Date!

October 20, 2017 2:30PM Jane Addams Children's Book Award Ceremony PDF | JPG

Children's Immigration Story Project aims to ease anxieties

Even before Trump's repeal of DACA (Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals) added to the anxiety, Lerner and fellow RISE members Larry Bayer, Jaime Pullen and more, decided to take action to both comfort kids while also inspiring compassion in others. Through the RISE Children's Immigration Story Project, the group has been donating a bundle of specially chosen children's books on the topic to several neighborhood locations.

"With DACA being repealed ... it's a time that's so anxiety-laden and scary for kids that they do need a way to soothe themselves," said Bayer. He also hopes that through reading the books, others will "Have some empathy for what people are going through now."

Welcoming immigrants and our country's immigrant history are "a fundamental value that we need to preserve," said Pullen.

Lerner picked the six books and so far RISE has donated them to the library, Sumner school, ABCD Head Start, Casserly House and more. The books include:"Mama's Nightingale," by Edwidge Danticat; "We Came to America," by Faith Ringold; and more.

"Mama's Nightingale" addresses the question: "What do you do if your government says you're not legal? ... And how do you explain that to young children," said Lerner.

"This is a really good project to let children know about immigration," said Lechuga. "We are diverse in the U.S."

Aunt Harriet's Underground Railroad in the Sky by Faith Ringgold 1993 Awardee

Mama's Nightingale: A Story of Immigration and Separation written by Edwidge Danticat, illustrated by Leslie Staub 2016 Awardee

DACA, Hurricane Irma, and Young Americans' Dreams Deferred By Edwidge Danticat

Monica's is one of eight hundred thousand stories, eight hundred thousand dreams deferred, if not completely destroyed. These dreams have already been nurtured by the Dreamers themselves, as well as by this country, where many have gotten their primary, secondary, and even university educations. For those of us who know Dreamers, who live with or near them, who work with them, who love them, it's puzzling that their value to this country is being so casually discarded. The Dreamers I know have the drive of pioneers. Their determination is born out of urgency. They can't, as Monica has said, take for granted their right to be here. They earn it every day.

An Exhibition About Revolution that Keeps Faith with Ringgold

An Exhibition About Revolution that Keeps Faith with Ringgold It is a great irony that the Faith Ringgold's first public commission was effectively imprisoned for over 40 years, but this situation raises valuable questions regarding our notions of the public and how that public is served.

But fighting for freedom often comes with having the freedom to do so in the first place, and not everyone is equally free. This is a point that Faith Ringgold and We Wanted a Revolution both make ardently clear: we cannot continue to whitewash the histories of those women who society has systemically failed. Rather we need to acknowledge those failures and see the long road out, towards a better, more empathetic future. Ringgold's painting still offers us a window to that world; don't send it back unseen.

Writing Stories For Refuge, Home & Social Justice: A Conversation With YA Novelist Mitali Perkins

Rickshaw Girl (2008), in which Naima challenges the traditional role of women in her village in Bangladesh so that she can help her struggling family. (Rickshaw Girl is now a particular favorite of my five and a half-year-old daughter!) I love the way she writes the female characters; they are always very confident and strong, yet deeply flawed.

Writing You Bring the Distant Near felt like offering up excerpts from my teen diary to my readers, and I know the teenaged Mitali would have been mortified at the sharing of our secrets.

Rickshaw Girl by Mitali Perkins, illustrations by Jamie Hogan 2008 Awardee

Contenders for the National Book Award for Young People's Literature

Mitali Perkins, "You Bring the Distant Near" Farrar, Straus & Giroux Books for Young Readers / Macmillan

Family visits to Cuba inspired girl to become a poet by WaPo

When she was a little girl, Margarita Engle spent her summers in Cuba, where she says she fell in love with nature.

"I fell in love with Cuba, and I never imagined that we wouldn't be able to go back," Engle said. "I wanted to feel free to love two countries even though history said, 'No, you have to choose.' "

Read more about the 2017 Awards.

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coffeeandtin · 8 years ago

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Sorry I’m so Slow!

Hey, y’all! I’m working on a Vasquez x Reader request. I’m not completely happy with it yet, but here’s a snippet from it in the meantime! (FYI: This one went from Zero to Tarantino in a hurry.)

Gun drawn, you bolt upward and aim at the first figure you see. The tall Mexican man stands in your sights on the opposite side of the bar. Two more men in green sashes are dead at his feet.

He balances his twin revolvers in his hands while splaying his fingers outward. You recognize the gesture of peace.

“Sounded like you could use some help,” he explains in a pleasant burr.

You begin to lower your weapon and voice your thanks when –quick as muzzle flare –he shifts his guns in his hands and fires two rounds, each into a new assailant who rushed in behind you. You return the favor seconds later when another man runs in from the back. You hit this marauder in the shoulder before your apparent ally spins on his heels and finishes the job.

Straight back, and long limbs, he turns to face you again. His dark eyes are alight with lethal intellect.

#mag7 #requests #fic #WIPs #vasquez #vasquez x reader #my stuff #stay tuned

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shenanigans-and-imagines · 7 years ago

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Here Comes Trouble

Not My Gif

Vasquez x Reader (at least the start of it), Female Reader, Smol Reader, Features the rest of the seven

AO3 Link/ Support Me on Ko-fi

Requested from @umbra12: Could you write a reader x Vasquez story Where reader is also an outlaw but reader looks harmless and is super deceiving until the group is attacked and reader shows their true colors! (Sam knows of course and sends judging/pitying looks to his group every time they treat reader like they are a child/weak/useless)

A/N: I’m going to be honest, I don’t think I followed the prompt very well, but hopefully you guys still like it.

Word Count: 5.8 K (God damn this got out of hand)

Vasquez clutched his bloody arm as he rode behind the procession of men, who the people of Rose Creek had lovingly dubbed “The Magnificent Seven”. However, at the moment, he wasn’t feeling up to the name.

Ever since Rose Creek the seven of them had decided to stick together. He couldn’t say exactly why. They had just ended up all going the same direction and hadn’t split off since.

He supposed in a way it made sense. Traveling as a group was usually safer than going it alone. For his part, traveling with a warrant officer deterred others from trying to hunt him down. Of course, it had its drawbacks.

As much as Rose Creek had done to make them heroes, it had brought them their fair of trouble. Many of Bogue’s associates were rather displeased about their sudden lack of income and some had taken it into their minds to kill the ones responsible.

They had ridden into a small town just as the sun was going down for a night’s rest when one of the men at the bar recognized Sam’s name. Things went to hell after that. The man pulled a gun on Sam and Sam fired back. Unfortunately, the man also had some friends. Soon everyone had their pistols out and the bar turned into a shooting gallery. It was over as fast as it began leaving the men dead and the seven relatively unscathed, all except for him.

The sheriff came in not long after that. Vasquez decided to make himself scarce while Sam and the bartender explain what happened. They weren’t arrested, as it was seen as an act of self-defense, but it was strongly implied that all of them had to leave town.

They split not long after that with no time to look at his arm before they rode off. Sam promised he knew a place nearby they could stay for the night. Vasquez hoped he was right. He was starting to get woozy.

He closed his eyes, and tried to keep his breathing steady when he heard the sound of horse hooves trotting up beside him.

“Damn Vas, you look like shit,” Faraday said bluntly.

“Shove it up your ass, guerro,” he grumbled back, hissing slightly as a jostle from the horse pulled at his arm.

Faraday rolled his eyes, not looking at all offended the comment.

“Well, Sam told me to tell you the outpost is just over that hill. Think you can make it?”

Vasquez glanced over at the gambler, surprised to see a genuine look of concern on his face.

He looked back at his arm, pulling his hand away from the wound and revealing a disgusting display of dark red stained cloth and flesh. He grimaced at the sight, but covered it up quickly with a half-smile.

“So far so good.”

All was quite as you wiped down the tables of the little outpost you called your home. The owner had hired you on about two years ago and by this point trusted you to run it on your own, only coming to check on things every few weeks.

There honestly wasn’t much to check on. Mostly people came passing through as a place to rest their horses before moving onto the next town. Some families in the mountains came in for supplies, but that was about it. It wasn’t much different that night. Nobody had come in since a group of riders left that morning.

Just as you were thinking of turning in early, a knock came at the door startling you out of their thoughts. You put your rag away and straightened your skirt before opening the door. Your eyes widened in surprise upon seeing an old familiar face.

“Sam. Didn’t expect to see you around here.”

“Neither did I,” he admitted. “I wouldn’t be bothering you, but me and my men ran into a bit a trouble last town over and need a place for the night.”

You glanced over his shoulder. Six other men were all sitting on their horses, looking a little worse for wear. It certainly was an odd assortment from what you could tell.

“That trouble follow you?” you asked.

“Not as far as I know,” Sam said. “Look, the horses could probably go for one more night, but one of us is injured—“

You held you hand up, signaling him to stop.

“You don’t need to convince me.”

Sam gave you a relieved smile.

“Go ahead and bring your man in and I’ll see what I can do,” you said. “Meantime, stable is open, rooms are down that way and done up with fresh sheets. Once you’re all settled, I’ll see about getting you boys something to eat.”

“Thank you,” Sam said.

“Yeah, well, I owe you,” you countered with a sigh.

Sam gave a small smile in return and turned back to his men, waving a couple of them over. The two of them approached. One, a red-haired man in a dark brown hat, and the other a rather tall looking Mexican who was clutching his left arm. The red head was trying to help guide the other towards you, much to his annoyance.

“I can make it,” the Mexican protested.

“Yeah, sure you can,” the other said.

The Mexican grumbled something in Spanish you couldn’t understand as he made his way up the small flight of stairs to the porch where you and Sam stood.

“Let’s get you looked at,” you said, nodding him towards the door.

He glanced over at Sam giving him a questioning look.

Sam gave a small reassuring nod, before walking down the steps to the rest of his men.

The Mexican looked back to you, giving you a look that made it clear to you he didn’t trust easily. You didn’t say anything as you walked inside waiting for him to follow. After a beat or so he did.

“Go ahead and take a seat,” you said, walking around the counter.

He did as his friend stood close by.

You began rummaging around the back, grabbing bandages, scissors, sewing needle, and a small pale of water. You then turned to the line of bottles sitting on the high shelves. You went to fetch you step stool, when the red-head spoke up.

“Let me help you,” he said, walking up behind the counter and reaching for the whiskey on the top shelf.

You couldn’t stop a small frown forming on your face as he handed you the bottle, but decided not to make a fuss. It wasn’t the first time a man had stepped in to do something you were perfectly capable of doing yourself.

“Thank you,” you said stiffly. “Mr. ?”

“Faraday,” he said. “Joshua Faraday. And the man you’re about to sew up is Vasquez.”

You looked back at your patient who was looking rather annoyed by the whole situation. You could hardly blame him. You knew well enough the pains of being shot at.

“No first name Mr. Vasquez,” you asked, taking your supplies and walking back to him.

“Just Vasquez,” he said, shortly.

Despite your curiosity, you didn’t press the issue. You set the supplies on the table and pulled up a chair to get a better look at his arm. Blood was everywhere, and the fabric plastered to his arm wasn’t helping matters. You took the scissors first and cuts the fabric of his shirt all the way up the shoulder before peeling it away.

Vasquez let out a hiss of pain, but didn’t jerk, much to your relief.

You then grabbed a cloth, soaked it in the pale of water and began to dab away the blood as gently as you could.

Vasquez kept his eyes on you the entire time. Even though you weren’t looking directly at him, you could feel their intensity. You weren’t sure whether you should be blushing or intimidated.

“Who are you?” he finally asked.

“Y/L/N,” you said, as you wiped away the last of the blood.

“Just Y/L/N?”

“You tell me yours, I’ll tell you mine,” you answered, meeting his eyes.

To his credit he didn’t look away. He searched your face, looking for what you couldn’t say. You weren’t sure what is was about his look, but you were becoming very aware of how close he was.

“So,” Faraday said, breaking the tension. “Is that Mrs. Y/L/N or Ms. Y/L/N?”

You pulled your gaze away from Vasquez, to Faraday with a raised eyebrow.

“Is that a subtle way to ask if I’m married?” you asked.

“I don’t think he was being subtle,” Vasquez add under his breath.

“Just wondering what’s the proper way to address you,” Faraday said, giving one of those easy smiles you knew probably got him in as much trouble as it got him out.

“It’s Ms.,” you said, before turning your attention back to Vasquez. “You’re gonna need stiches.”

Vasquez gave a stiff nod and you handed him the whiskey bottle. He took a healthy swig of it before handing it back to you. You took it gladly, taking a swig yourself before pouring some on the wound.

Vasquez’s arm jerked away that time, as he let out a small string of curses.

“Damn it woman,” he snapped, “warn me next time.”

“Next time,” you said sardonically as you poured whiskey on the needle. “Now this is gonna sting.”

He settled back into his chair, his jaw tight as you lined yourself up with his arm.

You pushed the needle in.

Vasquez let out a grunt of pain behind gritted teeth as he arm jerked away again. You held onto it, forcing his shoulder down and you made another incision. Your rubbed small circles into his arm with your free hand, trying to get him to relax his muscles as best you could. He didn’t give any more cries of pain. He simply kept his eyes forward, breathing in through his nose and out his mouth.

To your slight surprise, Faraday didn’t say anything during the operation. He simply looked on, his face rather serious, with crossed arms.

You finished your work, and handed Vasquez the whiskey bottle once more.

He took it gratefully and took two more swigs of the amber liquid. He then looked to Faraday, and handed it out to him.

Faraday took it and began chugging it down while you wrapped up Vasquez arm.

“You should be alright,” you said, tying off the bandage. “Just try not to move it too much. You’re lucky the bullet went straight through.”

“Well, I certainly feel lucky,” Vasquez said sarcastically.

You couldn’t help a small smile at that. He was at least having a sense of humor about it. He caught you look, smiling a bit himself.

“Gracias,” he said.

“You’re welcome,” you said, giving him a quick look up and down. “You need a new shirt.”

Vasquez looked down at his bloody appearance and gave a resigned nod of agreement.

“I’ll be right back,” you said.

You got up from your seat and made your way to a backroom behind the counter. Inside was a storage of supplies for some of the homesteaders in the area; flour, fabric, tools, and so on. You looked around and quickly found what you were looking for in a pile of workman’s clothes.

When you walked back out, Vasquez was still in his seat while Faraday nowhere in sight, presumably still with the bottle of whiskey.

“I had to guess the size,” you said, walking over to him. “Hopefully it fits.”

You held out the shirt to him, but to your surprise he didn’t take it. He eyed you and it suspiciously as if at any moment you would pull it away from him or ask for some kind of favor. You couldn’t help but feel a little sad at the thought, but continued to hold it out anyway.

He looked over your features carefully, and after a beat he took the shirt from your hands.

“You can change back there,” you said, nodding to the back room. “If you need help with anything or need a different fit, let me know.”

He nodded, and made his way to the back.

Taking the moment by yourself, you started setting the table for seven and cleaned up the rest of the place as quickly as you could. You started making a mental list of what you would need to feed everyone when Vasquez stepped out of the back, buttoning up his vest.

“It fit alright,” you asked.

“Si,” he said, looking at you. If you didn’t know any better you’d say he was embarrassed. “Gracias, again.”

“No skin off my nose,” you said. “Besides, you look a lot better not covered in blood.”

He huffed out a small laugh as he came back out around the counter. It was then you noticed just how tall he actually was, granted you weren’t so big yourself, but you were still well below his shoulder.

“You seem to do well with blood in any case,” he said.

“Well contrary to what most men believe, us women folk have more experience with blood on average than they do,” you countered.

He full on laughed at that, shaking his head.

“Fair enough,” he said.

There was a small beat of silence between you. Maybe it was the change of clothes or the simple fact he wasn’t bleeding so profusely, but he seemed to be in a much better mood than when he came in. A small smile graced his features, as he looked you over, causing your heart to beat faster than you felt it had the right to. He really was a handsome.

“You said you were a miss,” he said, conversationally. “Is this place your father’s?”

“No, I just work here,” you said. “Owner more or less leaves me in charge.”

“You mean, he’s not here now,” he asked, sounding confused.

“Comes in every few weeks or so to collect the money, that’s about it,” you shrugged.

His expression then changed from one of confusion to once of concern.

“That sounds like trouble.”

Your brow twitched slightly in annoyance at the implication.

“How do you mean?” you said, standing a little straighter and folding your arms.

“Well,” he stumbled slightly. He seemed to have only just realized he was stepping onto thin ice.

“It’s usually not safe for a woman on her own out in the middle of nowhere,” he said carefully. “Especially when she’s sitting on half a month’s worth of income, not to mention anything else you’d want to steal in this place.”

“You think I can’t handle myself?” you challenged.

“I didn’t say that,” he defended. “I just mean it’s asking for trouble.”

“Well it ain’t found me yet.”

Vasquez didn’t say anything for a moment, as he kept his eyes steady on yours. He looked like he wanted to continue arguing the point, but quickly let it go. His expression shifted to something different which you could only identify as resignation.

“Well, I hope your luck holds out,” he said.

You gave a small nod of appreciation when the doors swung open. Sam entered along with the rest of his men except for Faraday.

“How are you feeling Vasquez,” Sam asked.

“Not bad,” he said.

“Rooms are just down the way,” one of the men said with a distinct Cajun accent. “Faraday has already claimed one of the bunks.”

Vasquez cursed something in Spanish as he all but ran his way out the door leaving you alone with the other men.

“Thanks for looking after him,” Sam said.

“Ain’t no trouble,” you said with a smile. “Care to introduce me?”

“Right, Y/L/N this is Goodnight Robicheaux, Billy Rocks, Jack Horne, and Red Harvest. Everyone, this is Ms. Y/L/N.”

You looked at each of the men as Sam list them off. Billy and Red Harvest each gave you a small nod while Goodnight and Horne took off their hats.

Goodnight crossed the room, taking you hand in a more formal greeting.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you cher,” he said sweetly. “Thank you for your hospitality.”

“Goody,” Sam said in a warning tone.

He brushed him off with a smile which you couldn’t help but match.

“Ain’t nothing I haven’t seen before Sam,” you said, before looking back and Goodnight. “It’s nice to meet you as well Mr. Robicheaux, now if you release my hand, I’ll see if I can get you boys something to eat.”

“Oh, I like you,” he said as he let go.

You gave a small smile in return, turning towards the rest of the men.

“Go ahead and make yourself comfortable,” you said. “Hope you boys like biscuits and gravy.”

Billy, Sam, Goodnight, and Horne gave appreciative smiles, but Red Harvest made a grimace, saying something in his native tongue you didn’t understand.

“What did he say,” you asked.

“It sounds lovely miss,” Horne said.

You glanced between him and Red Harvest. You didn’t need to understand exactly what Red Harvest said to know Horne was lying, but you decided not to comment.

“Well then, I guess I better get started,” you said, before turning towards the kitchen.

It didn’t take you long to throw something together, despite the quantity required. Luckily a new supply had come in only a few days ago so you weren’t short on anything.

You came out with food to see them all sitting in a circle including Vasquez and Faraday.

You put the plates down on the table. The meal consisted of biscuits, gravy, bacon, beans, mashed potatoes, and you had even been able to get some fish you had caught the day before.

To your relief, Red Harvest at least put the fish onto his plate and began eating, even going for a few biscuits. You made the rounds, refilling everyone’s glasses with water and leaving a bottle of whiskey for the table. Although, you had to stop Faraday from taking anymore. He was still nursing the bottle he had taken earlier.

“Why don’t you join us,” Goodnight asked. “Seems wrong to leave our host out of the party.”

“Are you sure you don’t have an ulterior motive Mr. Robicheaux?” you countered.

“Well I admit I am a little curious how you and Sam met,” he said. “That’s got to be an interesting story.”

You felt yourself stiffen involuntarily. Sam shot you a concerned look, but you were able to shake it off rather quickly.

“Not really,” you said. “I was in some trouble, Mr. Chisolm got me out of it. Ain’t nothing more than that.”

Goodnight didn’t say anything as he looked you over.

You stared back at him with an expression telling him plain and simple that you didn’t want to talk about.

You had to give him credit, he got the message quickly. His curious expression slipped into one of understanding as he shot you an apologetic smile.

“Fair enough,” he said.

You felt yourself giving a small thankful smile back.

“C’mon, you’re gonna give up that easily,” Faraday chimed in. “What sort of trouble?”

Any good will Goodnight had just earned evaporated immediately as you shot a cold look at Faraday.

“The kind I don’t like to talk about with drunk men,” you said bluntly.

“I’m not—“

“Guerro,” Vasquez warned.

Faraday looked at him surprised, before taking a look around the table, every face telling him silently to drop it.

He looked back to you.

“Never mind,” he said, raising his hands in surrender. “But, you gotta at least tell us what’s a pretty lady like you doing out here by your lonesome.”

“Maybe when I get to know you better,” you said. “And you’re sober.”

“So, you’re never going to tell us,” Vasquez said, smirking.

There was a round of laughter from the table as Faraday looked at Vasquez, mildly offended.

It was then the door opened, and five new faces entered.

The laughter around the table ceased immediately, as all the men went on alert.

The newcomers all had guns on their belts, weathered faces and looked at the seven sitting with mean expressions.

“Can I help you gentlemen,” you said politely.

The one in the middle turned to you with the kind of smile meant to put others at ease, but left the impression of nails on a chalk board.

“Evening ma’am,” he said smoothly. “We were just looking for a place to stay the night, but it seems like you’re all full up.”

“’fraid so,” you said. “Of course, I do have some space in the back I can make for you, but it’ll only fit one, maybe two if you don’t mind brushing elbows.”

One of the men behind the leader glared daggers at the seven seated.

“Why can’t they leave,” he spat. “Don’t seem right to serve—”

“You finish that sentence the way I think you’re gonna finish it, you can leave right now,” you threatened.

The tension in the air grew palpable as each group stared each other down. The seven men seated all shifted slightly in their seats, their hands presumably over their guns.

The leader of the men gave the same easy smile.

“We don’t wanna cause no trouble,” he said. “We’ll just take any food you can spare and be on our way. Won’t we Jesse?”

The one named Jesse continued to stare down the men, but gave a stiff nod in compliance.

You wanted very much to just kick them out right then and there, but you knew it would just cause more trouble. You made a gesture to one of the open tables and the five newcomers each took their seats.

The seven each turned back to their seats, but none of them relaxed. Nobody even said a word.

You walked back into the kitchen and pulled out five plates of food setting it down by each of the men.

“Thank you kindly,” the leader said. “Miss?”

“Y/L/N,” you said curtly.

“Y/L/N,” he repeated, rolling the name over in mouth. “Gotta first name to go with that?”

“None I give to strangers.”

He gave a short laugh which made your hair stand on end.

“Feisty, ain’t yah,” he said. “And pretty, if you don’t mind me saying so.”

“You can certainly say so,” you said dryly. “Anything to drink.”

“Whiskey if you please.”

You gave a short nod and walked towards the bar. You looked up at the mirror behind the counter and stole a quick glance at the table with the seven. Sam looked the most relaxed out of all of them, but you knew exactly where his hand under the table was. Billy was leaned over the table, lighting a cigarette, his chair decidedly pushed back. Next to him Goody leaned nonchalantly back in his seat, one arm slung on top of the chair, the other rested on his lap, with a clear line of sight to the other table. Red Harvest and Horne each sat a little straighter in their seats. Even Faraday looked a little less drunk as his eyes glanced at the other men. You finally caught Vasquez’ eye. He, like Billy, had his seat pushed back away from the table, one hand conveniently placed at his side.

He shot you a stern look, moving his arm subtly as if to tell you he was ready to fight. You have a quick shake of the head. No trouble. You just needed to get the new men fed and then they’d leave. Thankfully, he got the message, and placed his hand on the table.

You got the whiskey from the shelf and walked over to the newcomers, pouring them each a shot.

“Might as well leave the bottle,” the leader said. “I’m Robert by the way, you met Jesse, and this here is Lance, Rich, and John.”

Each of the men gave a small nod at their name, not really paying attention to you, all except for Robert and Jesse.

“Nice to meet y’all,” you said stiffly.

Jesse in particular started to focus his attention on you as he examined your face.

“Ain’t I see you somewhere before,” Jesse asked.

“Been ‘round here much?”

“No.”

“Then you ain’t seen me,” you said, walking towards the table where the seven were sitting.

They all looked at you with variations of worry and trepidation. You tried your best to give a reassuring smile, but it came off as strained.

You picked up their used glasses, went back at the bar and started switching them out for clean ones. As you did, you heard the sound of a chair being pulled back against the floor followed by a pair of footsteps.

You glanced to your side to see Jesse standing right next to you, staring you down.

“I’ve seen you somewhere,” he said. “You been to Texas?”

“No,” you said, doing your best to sound bored of the conversation.

“Arizona?”

“No.”

There was a small pause and for a brief moment, you though he would drop the subject.

“Your name wouldn’t happen to be Y/F/N, would it?” he asked.

Despite your best efforts, your back stiffened and your grip around the glasses tightened.

“No.”

Jesse wasn’t buying it as he placed his gun on the counter.

“Now, you see, I think it is.”

“Jesse,” Robert said questioningly.

“This here is Y/F/N Y/L/N,” he announced to the room. “She’s got an $900 bounty on her head dead or alive, shot her local cattle baron right between the eyes.”

You could feel not just Robert’s men, but Sam’s as well all looking at you in surprise.

“You really got the wrong girl,” you lied. “I’ve never shot anyone in my life.”

“Now wait a minute,” Robert said, getting up from his chair. “I’ve never known Jesse to forget a pretty face. You sure it’s her.”

“Sure as I’ll ever be,” he said, smiling. “Woo wee, and here we thought we’d just rob the place. This works out much better.”

It was then you heard three more chairs being pulled back and you could only assume, Lance, Rich, and John were now added to the list of men standing. You didn’t bother to try and sneak a glance at Sam and the others. Any sudden movement on their part would mean shots fired.

Jesse picked up his gun and pointed it directly at you.

“Now, I think you should come with us,” he said with a sly smile. “Just cause you’re wanted dead, doesn’t mean we can’t have some fun before you go. Hate to waste a pretty face.”

There was a small rustle behind you. You stole a quickly glance to see Vasquez had moved presumably to stand, but Faraday stopped him by keeping a strong hand on his shoulder. You then looked towards Robert’s men. Robert was keeping his eyes on you, but the rest were decidedly turned towards the other table.

You then looked to Jesse. He gun was propped up on the counter pointed lazily at you, but it was then you noticed, he had two guns on his belt. One he wasn’t using, pressed between his leg and the counter.

Carefully, you raised your hands and moved away from the bar, turning to face Jesse.

He kept his gun on you the whole time, and didn’t reach for his spare. Robert stayed where he was, and the rest placed their hands on their guns looking hard at the other group.

“You know, I was really starting to like it here,” you said darkly.

“That ain’t my problem,” Jesse said. “Now start walking.”

You took a small step forward and then quickly closed the gap between you and Jesse. He barely had time to react as you yanked his gun hand above his head with one hand and dove for his spare gun with the other. You pulled it out of its holster and with a deafening bang, Jesse fell over dead.

Robert went for his gun, but you shot him twice in the chest before he could even clear leather.

You turned down into a crouch as a volley of shots went over your head from Robert’s remaining men. You returned with three shots, and three bodies dropped, never to move again.

You stayed there a moment, gun still raised breathing hard. Nobody moved and soon the nighttime sounds began to fill the air once again.

Slowly, you stood up and looked over to the group of men still sitting all looking you in shock and awe.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” you said, lowering your gun. “It’s probably best y’all leave.”

“Nothing to apologize for,” Sam said. “We just saw a woman acting in self-defense, didn’t we?”

To your surprise, each of the men at the table gave confirming nods.

“That man there said they were planning on robbing the place,” Faraday said pointing at Jesse’s body.

“Held a lady at gun point too,” Goodnight added.

“Those boys there had their guns trained on us the whole time,” Horne said looking towards Lance, Rich, and John.

“That’s the leader,” Billy said, pointing at Robert.

“No hablo ingles senor,” Vasquez said.

Red Harvest gave a look of utter confusion as if he didn’t understand anything that was going on.

You honestly didn’t know what to say. You felt a warm feeling in your chest as you felt a small smile appear on your face.

Sam then looked to Goodnight.

“Probably best if you got the sheriff,” he said.

Goodnight nodded in understanding and got up from his seat, grabbing his hat as he went. He shot you one quick smile before heading right out the door.

There was a small silence that followed, but you could feel the lingering questions in the air.

“So,” Faraday said. “Just out of curiosity, why did you shoot a cattle baron right between the eyes?”

You looked to Faraday, staring him down with unflinching eyes.

“It’s quite simple really,” you said. “He had it coming.”

Faraday raised his arms in the universal sign of surrender as he leaned back in his chair, fully realizing that was all he was going to get. The other men seemed to get that as well as they all turned their eyes away from you. All except for one.

Vasquez stared at you as if seeing you for the first time. You met his eyes and an odd sense of understanding took over you.

Vasquez knew exactly what you felt the moment you killed that man all those years ago. He knew the righteous anger, that flowed through you went you pulled the trigger and the relief when he fell to the ground. You also had the distinct feeling he knew exactly what it was like to have to leave everything behind for the sake of that dead man you left at your feet.

He gave you a small nod as a silent promise between outlaws. He wouldn’t say anything about why you really did it and neither would you.

Goodnight was back in a matter of hours.

Sam took the lead, explaining everything that happened; conveniently leaving out the nine-hundred dollar bounty on your head and emphasizing the fact he was a duly sworn warrant officer from Wichita, Kansas, and a licensed peace officer in the Indian territories, Kansas, Nebraska and seven other states. The men all gave their testimony’s and you told the sheriff how it all happened so fast, you barely remembered anything.

The sheriff bought it, stating it was a clear case of self-defense. He and his deputies took the bodies away, leaving you and the other seven men on your own.

Sam made the suggestion that everyone turn in for the night, to which there was no protest.

You made your way to the small cot in the back of the outpost and lay down hoping for sleep to come. Your mind wouldn’t stop turning, playing over the last few hours in your head. Someone had recognized you. You were almost caught. Sam might have been able to cover for you, but it would only be a matter of time before the sheriff found out who you were. Trouble had found you again. First thing in the morning, you would have to leave.

You woke up just as the sun began to rise. You felt bad leaving before the rest of the men were up. You should have at least made them breakfast after everything they did for you, but you knew if you stayed that long, you’d never have it in you to leave.

You packed light, just the clothes on your back, gun, riffle, and whatever else you could fit into your saddle bag. Making your way to the stables, you quickly found your horse waiting for you.

“Hey there girl,” you said soothingly as you rubbed her nose. “Looks like we’re back on the road again.”

“You’re leaving?” a voice called.

You turned to see Vasquez standing just inside the stable door.

“Think it’s best I be moving on,” you said. “Owner will be back in a day or two. Don’t think I should be here when he comes.”

Vasquez gave a nod in understanding, as he walked towards you.

“Where are you headed,” he asked.

You gave a non-committal shrug.

“Don’t know, someplace else I guess.”

“Alone?”

You raised your eyebrow at the question.

“I know you can handle yourself,” he said. “Still doesn’t mean you should go alone. Usually brings trouble.”

“Trouble seems to find me where ever I go,” you countered. “Doesn’t matter who I’m with.”

“Maybe you should ride with us then,” he said

You didn’t say anything. Your eyes went wide as your mouth fell slightly open.

“Easier to face troubles in a group then on your own,” he clarified.

“You offering me to ride with you?” you asked, still not fully believing it.

“We talked it over last night,” he shrugged. “You’re good in a fight, smart, reliable, and I’m pretty sure last night was the only time I’ve seen Red eat something he didn’t make himself.”

You huffed a small laugh at that.

“It’s just an offer,” he said. “You don’t have to take it, but know all of us would like to have you along if you want to.”

His expression then shifted, looking almost nervous.

“At least, I know I would,” he added.

You felt your cheek grow involuntarily hot, but you shook it off as best you could.

You looked over him, thinking over his offer carefully.

You thought about all seven, and how quickly they came to your defense after only knowing you for a few hours. You thought about the camaraderie between them, and the warm feeling it sent in your chest. You thought about the man in front of you and how much you’d regret never seeing him again.

“I think I’ll take you up on it,” you said. “Be nice to have company for once.”

Vasquez’s face gave away a relieved smile which he tried to cover with a discrete cough.

“Guess that settles it then,” he said. “C’mon, let’s get something to eat.”

You felt a smile spread across your face as you followed him out of the stable doors. Being with the seven was certainly going to bring you trouble, but you had a feeling, it was all going to be worth it.

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shenanigans-and-imagines · 7 years ago

Text

Any Regrets

Not my gif

Based on anonymous request here

Can be read as a sequel to Run Away With Me

Vasquez x Reader, Female Reader, Fluff and Angst

AO3 Link/ Support Me on Ko-fi

Sentence Prompt: “When you love someone, you just don’t stop. Ever. Even when people roll their eyes or call you crazy… even then. Specially then!”

Author’s Note: Sorry I go this out late. This one gave me a bit of trouble and ended up more angsty than I initially intended. Hopefully y’all still like it.

Word Count: 2.2 K

You were in considerable pain.

Granted, you had worse, but it didn’t negate the steady throbbing coming from your thigh as you rode beside Vasquez.

The pair of you had been lying low in a small town in Arizona for a little over a month. It had been the first real break you had since you first decided to run off with the Mexican outlaw some six months prior. You had originally planned on only staying a few days before moving on, but you go comfortable.

People in the town assumed you were a married couple and you let them assume. You were able to get a job with a grocer in town while Vasquez put in with a local rancher looking for some spare hands. It was nice, but soon enough the law caught up to you and it was time to run.

It had been close. Vasquez was able to get out unscathed, but one of the deputies tagged you on the leg as you were riding out of town. It didn’t feel deep, but it could have been the adrenaline.

You rode on the rest of the day and into the night before reaching a stagecoach outpost. Normally you would have kept riding, but your leg was steadily growing worse and you weren’t sure how much longer you could keep yourself up right. You had to risk it.

You stayed mounted on your horse as Vasquez went into the saloon. There really wasn’t much there besides it and a small barn to rest your horses. You took a moment to properly breath in the night air. It calmed you slightly, but as you began to relax you became even more aware of the warm liquid keeping your skirt plastered to your leg. Soon enough Vasquez walked out of the saloon, giving you a small nod.

You gave a sigh of relief as he came up beside your horse. With some effort, you slid off the saddle. Your feet barely touched the ground before Vasquez scooped you into his arms carried you inside. You wrapped your arms around his neck relaxing into his hold. Everything was going to be alright. The owner didn’t even so much as look up as Vasquez carried you to a small room in the back.

It was sparsely furnished with one bed placed in the center of the room, a chair in one corner, a night stand beside the bed and a dresser below the window facing towards the road coming into the outpost. You noticed a bottle of whiskey placed on the night stand as well as a small pile of bandages and a pale of water. Vasquez gently placed you on the bed, helping you sit up against the headboard, before lighting one of the lanterns.

“You’re going to need to take that off,” he said, indicating to your skirt.

You nodded in acknowledgment and began to undo the ties. You winced in pain as you moved your hips up to get them off your legs. Vasquez was by your side in a second and helped you the rest of the way leaving you in just your blouse and blood soaked petticoat.

You moved to pull the underskirt up, but Vasquez stopped you. He silently placed his hands on your shoulders, pushing gently back against the headboard.

“I’ll be right back.”

He walked out the door leaving you alone in the quiet. Your hands clenched and unclenched the fabric at your sides. You weren’t even sure you had lost the sheriff and his deputies. You were also sure the saloon owner wouldn’t help you. If his reaction was any indication he wouldn’t squeal so long as you paid; however, if the law did come, you doubted he would protect you.

Vasquez walked back in, carrying your saddle bags with him. He placed them on the ground beside your bed, and shuffled through them until he found a small knife. He took the chair in the corner and placed it parallel to the bed and facing you.

“I hope you’re not attached to this,” he said, indicating the underskirt.

You shook your head.

“It’d be a bitch to clean anyway.”

He gave a small smile before cutting into the fabric and tearing a clean line all the way up past your wound just above your knee. With just a few more careful incisions, he peeled back the fabric covering your leg causing you to hiss in pain.

Your stomach turned at the sight. Your thigh was completely stained with blood, made worse by the gauge that looked almost black in the dim light. You kept your eyes on the ceiling, unable to even look at it.

Vasquez didn’t say a word. You heard the small splashing of water before feeling a warm hand placed gently on your inner thigh to keep you steady while the other cleaned the blood away with careful strokes.

You looked back down to him. His face showing utter concentration on the task at hand. Your body began to relax, focusing on the rough fingers rubbing small circles against your skin. If he was trying to distract you from the small spikes of pain that came whenever he placed pressure on the open wound, it was working surprisingly well.

He put down the now blood stained cloth and you finally looked back down at your leg.

It wasn’t nearly as bad as you thought, but the simple fact it was still trickling blood was a little disconcerting. You looked back as Vasquez expectantly.

“Stitches?”

He gave a solemn nod.

You turned toward the whiskey bottle sitting on the night stand. Without a word, you opened it and took a large swing, letting the alcohol burn down your throat. Vasquez in turn, pulled out a needle and thread from your bag.

You handed him the bottle. He poured some onto the needle before once again placing on hand on your thigh to keep you steady.

“Ready?”

You nodded, clenching the bedspread in preparation.

He pushed the needle in.

You let out a small cry and jerked away on reflex, but Vasquez kept his grip, pulling the tread through your skin.

“It’s alright,” he said, caressing your skin in reassuring circles.

You took calming breaths, once again allowing his gentle touch to relax you as you leaned your head back against the headboard.

He took your silence and permission to continue and pushed the needle in once more. You were able to keep your leg steady, and let out only a small whimper. Vasquez kept up his ministrations and soon it was over. He put the needle and thread away and began bandaging your leg.

Maybe it was the whiskey finally doing its job, but you didn’t feel anything but a dull ache as he wrapped the bandage. He continued in complete silence, keeping the concentrated look on his face. He kept his touch as careful as ever as if he were binding glass instead of flesh, and tied of the bandage with equal care.

He didn’t pull away. His fingers absentmindedly tracing your skin as he kept his gaze on your bandaged leg, his eyes far away from where you were.

“What is it?” you asked.

Vasquez didn’t look at you. His brow furrowed in deep thought.

“Do you regret coming with me?”

You stared at him, slightly taken aback by his question, but answered without hesitation.

“No. Why would you ask that?”

He finally met your gaze, shooting you a disbelieving look.

“You got shot.”

“It’s not like it hasn’t happened before,” you said simply.

Vasquez jaw tightened as he pulled his hands away.

“That’s the point,” he said getting up from his chair.

“Vas…”

He ignored you as he began to put away everything back into the saddles bags.

“It was a mistake,” he said. “I shouldn’t have gone back for you.”

You felt your stomach drop out from under you. He didn’t mean it. He couldn’t.

“Are you saying that cause you actually think that or are you just scared?” you asked, unable to keep some of the bitterness out of your voice.

“It was a mistake,” he repeated, turning to you. “I should have left you live your life not drag you into mine.”

“You didn’t drag me anywhere,” you said simply. “I went with you because I wanted to.”

“I can’t protect you,” he insisted. “I thought I could, but you’re right. This isn’t the first time you’ve been shot and it’s probably not going to be the last. You keep riding with me and one of these days that one bullet is going to catch up with you and I can’t be there when it does.”

He turned away from you once again as a symbolic end of the discussion, but you weren’t giving up without a fight.

“So, you are just scared then,” you shot back angrily.

“Of course I am!” he snapped. “I won’t let you die because of me.”

“Where do you expect me to go?”

“Anywhere,” he said, letting the desperation in his features creep into his voice. “Some small town where they don’t know your name. Work, find someone who loves you, get married, build a home, have a life.”

You shook your head.

“I can’t do that, not without you.”

“I can’t do it at all,” he countered. “We tried, but it didn’t last. It’s never going to last. Forget about me and find someone else who can give that to you.”

You couldn’t take it anymore. Carefully, you turned your body so your feet touched the floor. Using the headboard as support, you stood up, ignoring the pain that shot through your leg. Once you were steady, you limped across the room closing the space between you and Vasquez.

He didn’t reach out to you. He simply stood, staring down at you with dark eyes as he tried to keep his face blank. He wasn’t very good at it. You could still see the love he had for you. You knew that was why he was so desperately trying to push you away.

You reached out and gently placed your hand to his cheek as you stepped closer.

He let you, closing his eyes as he relaxed into your touch. He leaned down pressing his forehead against yours as you felt his hands on your waist. You knew he meant this as a goodbye.

“I can’t,” you whispered softly.

“You have to try.”

“I can’t,” you insisted. “When you love someone, you just don’t stop. Ever. Even when people roll their eyes or call you crazy… even then. Specially then. I can’t just forget you.”

Vasquez shook his head, taking your hand cupping his cheek and pulling it away. You thought he would release his hold and pull away, but he stayed where he stood, keeping your hand in his.

“I can’t give…”

“I don’t care!” you cut in, pulling your head away enough to look at him. “If I wanted that life I wouldn’t have come with you, but I did.”

Vasquez looked down at you, but kept silent. You could practically see the cogs turning in his mind, trying to find a way to convince you to let him go. Despite this, his hand still held yours telling you a simple truth. He didn’t want to let you go either.

“Do you love me?” you asked.

He didn’t answer for a moment, looking at you with so much tenderness, you knew the answer before he even said it.

“You know I do.”

You nodded meeting his eyes with just as much earnest conviction.

“Then trust I knew what I was getting myself into.”

Vasquez’s dark eyes bore into you, searching for any hint of doubt.

You gazed right back doing your best to show just how much you loved him. He was yours and you were his. That was all that mattered.

Slowly he leaned down and finally closed the small space between you in a passionate kiss. His hand dropped yours, moving to your waist pulling your closer to him. You responded in kind, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him just as fiercely. He wasn’t going to leave you. You felt it in his touches and in the way his groaned against your lips. And you made sure he knew you felt the same. Eventually the two of you had to pull away for air.

“I wish I was a better man,” he said breathing hard. “But I’m selfish. I’m not letting go of you.”

“For my sake at least I’m glad you are,” you said smiling. “I don’t want you to.”

He chuckled lightly as he let one hand slip to the small of your back, the other sliding gently up and down your spine.

“You really are loco.”

“Completely,” you agreed. “Comes with the territory.”

He smile lightly before kissing you once again.

“Te amo,” he said softly.

“Yo también te amo,” you returned.

You said the rest of the night in the small outpost before heading out before the sun rose the next morning. You knew there was a good chance you would never stop running. You knew there was a chance Vasquez was right, and that bullet was heading for you sooner rather than later. But as you glanced over at the man riding beside you knew your decision was the right one arguments, gun shots and all.

#vasquez x reader #vasquez #the magnificent seven #mag 7 #mag 7 imagines #mag7 #mag7 imagines #the magnificent seven imagines #manuel garcia rulfo #vasquez imagines

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shenanigans-and-imagines · 7 years ago

Text

When the Morning Comes

Not my gif

AO3 Link/ Support Me on Ko-fi

Vasquez x Female Reader

Fluff, some angst

Summary: The night before the battle of Rose Creek, you and Vasquez come to terms about how you feel.

Word Count: 1.8K

It was the eve before the battle of Rose Creek. Goodnight had just left town which left Chisolm, Red Harvest, Horne, Billy, Faraday, Vasquez and yourself among the guns hired by Mrs. Cullen to defend the town. It wasn’t so much a strategic set back as an emotional one. It suddenly became apparent that one or more of the odd group of mercenaries you had grown to care about over the last week would be dead the next day. Everyone drank, and made jokes, but the sense of doom held silently over everyone’s heads.

It was almost a relief when Sam suggested everyone try to get some early shut eye. You clamored up to bed, making the proper good nights to everyone before entering your room.

You knew before your body hit the mattress you weren’t going to sleep. Still, you made a valiant effort. You laid down. You closed your eyes and waited, but nothing happened. You rolled to the corner of the bed pressed against the wall and cocooned yourself in the blankets, but that didn’t work either. Eventually you simply gave up. Kicking off the blankets, you put on your coat, and walked out the door of the saloon.

The night air was comfortably cool and the stars shone brightly in the sky as you made your way down the main street. Everything was still and peaceful, a stark contrast to what the morning would bring.

You shook off the thought as best you could.

Not paying attention to where your feet were carrying you, you found yourself standing in the doorway of the stable. Taking pause upon realizing where you were, you contemplated going back to bed, but quickly dismissed the notion. As quietly as you could to walked down the line of pins until you reach your horse, Sally. She was always a deep comfort to you, which you needed more than ever. Much to your surprise, she was standing awake and alert when you reached to her.

“Hey girl,” you said soothingly as you touched your hand to her nose. “Can’t sleep?”

She bobbed her head in response. You smiled a little, petting her gently.

“Yeah, me neither.”

“You’re not planning on running off are you,” a familiar accented voice called.

You turned to see Vasquez enter the stable. From his rumpled shirt and undone vest, you had to guess he was having the same trouble you were.

“No,” you answered shortly. “Are you?”

Vasquez shook his head as he walked further into the stable. He came up beside you, looking appraisingly at Sally.

“May I,” he asked, holding out his hand.

You gave him a quick glance, and silently nodded.

With all the care in the world, he placed his hand on the horse’s neck, stroking her with tender care.

“Good horse,” he commented.

“Ain’t she just,” you smiled proudly. “She don’t spook easy neither. She should be alright for tomorrow.”

“Will you?”

You glanced up at him noting how intently he was staring down at you. It might have been intimidating, if not for the soft look in the corners of his eyes.

“I’m always twitchy before a fight,” you answered honestly. “Once the fighting starts, I don’t really have time to think about it.”

Vasquez nodded his head in understanding, but kept looking at you. You couldn’t deny the feeling you got whenever he looked at you like that. You had seen it off and on since arriving in Rose Creek. It made you a little weak at the knees, like some silly school girl. You would almost be mad at him for making you feel that way, but then he’d just look at you again and all those thoughts went out the window.

His expression shifted suddenly, so fast you almost didn’t spot it before he turned his head away from you and back to Sally.

“I think you should stay behind with Mrs. Cullen tomorrow.”

You blinked away your shock. “What?”

Vasquez ignored your comment. “You’re a good shot. We need you up with the snipers.”

“Emma’s got it covered,” you countered. “Besides, you need at least one sniper on the ground to get the dynamite off, we went over the plan already.”

“Things changed,” he said turning his head to you. “Goody’s not here anymore. You need to be the one in the bell tower.”

You let you hand drop from Sally and turned to fully face Vasquez, arms crossed. “Chisolm already covered that. I’m staying on the ground.”

“Why do you want to be in the thick of all of this?”

“Why don’t you want me to be in the thick of it? Don’t you trust me?”

“I do trust you,” he emphasized fully facing you as well. “That’s why I’d rather you be in the tower.”

“As opposed to having your back on the ground?”

“I can take care of myself.”

“So can I.”

He gave an exaggerated groan, running his hand through his hair. “That’s not the point.”

“Then what is?”

“I…” he stopped. His jaw clench slightly as if forcing the words, he wanted to say back down his throat. A flurry of emotions ran across his face; desperation, fear, understanding, and a few more you couldn’t name before he looked down at his boots.

“I don’t want you to die.”

The statement hung in the air and along with all the things it implied.

You searched your mind for something to say. You hadn’t known each other for long, but you couldn’t deny you had grown to care for Vasquez as he had done for you. You could even say you rather liked the Mexican outlaw with the charming smile and deadly aim. So much so, the image of him lying dead in the street made the threat to your lives all the more real and truly terrifying.

“I don’t want you to die either,” you said along with everything it implied.

Vasquez looked at you, with a surprised look. He opened his mouth to speak before you interrupted.

“But,” you continued, “that doesn’t mean I’m not going to let you do your job. The best chance any of us have on getting out of this is playing our parts, no matter how we feel about it.”

Vasquez stared down at you as if about to protest, but nodded reluctantly. He knew you were right.

“I don’t like it,” he said bitterly.

“I don’t like it much either,” you admitted. “But, on the other hand, I’d rather be on the ground knowing where you are, than in some tower just guessing.”

It took him a second, but he nodded in agreement once again.

A small silence feel between you as you took a moment to look at him. You never understood why he came to Rose Creek. Chisolm promised not to turn him in for a reward, but that didn’t seem like enough. He could have easily shot Chisolm and been on his way, but he decided to join him. He came, and over the past week you saw him grow attached to this odd town he had promised to protect and tomorrow, he might die for it. For strangers.

A small smile appeared on your face.

“You’re a good man Vasquez,” you said softly.

He laughed at that. “I can think of a few people who’d disagree.”

“Just an opinion,” you said with a shrug, “you don’t have to take it as gospel.”

You gave Sally one last pat before walking towards the stable doors. Just as you were about to pass him, Vasquez reached out and took your hand. You turned to him, surprised. He didn’t look at you directly, but kept his gentle hold.

“Stay safe tomorrow,” he said, lightly squeezing your hand as if any sudden movement would break it.

Your cheeks heated slightly at the gesture, but you kept a grip on his hand, not wanting the warmth to leave you just yet.

“Same goes for you,” you said as you returned the pressure.

You noticed a small smile cross his lips causing you to smile as well.

Neither one of you moved. All that could be heard was the light breeze through the rafters and the quite rustle of hay.

Never dropping his hand, you walked to him until you stood barely a foot away from him. Vasquez looked down at you with that same look that made your heart melt.

Tentatively, you reached out with your free hand and cupped his cheek. He met your hand, covering it with his own, stroking his thumb against your knuckles.

You were standing even closer now, your chest just touching his with every intake of breath. All it would take to finally feel his lips on yours would be to lean forward a little.

You wanted to kiss him. Good God you wanted to, but you hesitated, for the same reason you suspect he did.

There was still a fight to be won. One or both of you could be lying dead in the dirt the next morning. All of this, whatever this was, could come to nothing. Neither of you wanted to make any promises only for them to be ripped away the next day. You would wait. You had to.

Carefully, you leaned forward and lightly brushed your lips on his cheek. You closed your eyes, savoring the rough touch while you could.

“Good night,” you said softly.

You pulled away slowly, hoping for the feeling would last as you opened your eyes.

He met your gaze with an intensity which left you rooted to the spot. Keeping eye contact with you, he gently pulled your hand from his cheek and brought the palm to his lips, kissing it tenderly.

You blushed at the touch, silently cursing yourself for doing so.

He pulled your hand away, but held his grip, rubbing his thumb absently across one of your fingers.

“Buenas noches.”

You almost broke right then and there, but you didn’t move. His dark eyes bore into you, spreading their warmth across your body, starting in your chest and moving all the way down to your toes. You could had stayed exactly like that for the rest of your life. His strong coarse hands grasping yours, looking at you like you were the only person in the world who truly mattered. But it couldn’t last.

Slowly, reluctantly, you slipped your hands out of his grip and walked out the stable door.

You didn’t look back. You knew the moment you did, you wouldn’t be able to leave. You needed sleep. You needed focus. You didn’t know what the morning would bring, but you knew one thing; Vasquez would not die, not while you were still breathing.

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