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keelt9 · 2 days ago

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Chapter 13

Masterlist

It took Max’s manager and me around 10 minutes to get him into the jet, by the time we arrived at the airfield it was supposed they must be in Milton Keynes.

I lied to him, telling him I was fine, just maybe a little bit dizzy; he tried to insisted he wanted to wait for Mika or Thomas came to pick me but I calm him down saying <I will be fine.>

Mika and Thomas arrived 30 minutes later, found me with Caleb who insisted he didn’t want to leave alone until I was fine.

Mika was calm until Caleb mentioned the part of leaving me alone, causing a dry laugh from her, asking if his own words didn’t taste like vinegar.

Max called me right away as they landed, I assured him I was fine, just I got dizzy for the long weeks and the moved weekend, but I was totally fine.

Mika and Thomas didn’t mention a word to anyone about when we met Caleb; but try to persuade me at least I should tell Max who is Caleb, not because he must know everything about my past, just because as Mika said, if that dude is someone who hurt you that much I like to know.

Still I can’t, not now.

Singapore was a success, even for Lewis who reached third place.

Max called me that night to tell me all in the paddock started to tease him about us, and he was fighting for nor saying a word, but Checo’s facial expression didn’t help him at all.

“I also received a couple of messages.” Alexa texted me Thursday night about a couple of photos of me and “someone” who looked like Max in Newport beach.

Max smiles as he’s finishing his breakfast. “Alexandra.”

“How do you know?” I almost hit the table in the living room.

“Charles has been very curious too.” He said drinking what I bet is his first redbull of the day. “Are you alone already?”

My parents left early for an old friend's party in Ireland, leaving me with the confidence that I'll be alone one day, because Max will come from me Tuesday afternoon to travel to Japan.

“Yes, it’s been a long Monday.” I laid down on the couch. “I never imagine how many permissions you need.”

All these days I have been in endless reunions and paperwork for the shelter, knowing I’m not going to be around, I have to make a huge progress before going to Japan.

“And this is starting to frustrate me.” I raise my arm with the cast.

Max realizes something. “I haven’t signed it, first thing I’ll do tomorrow.”

I didn’t realize I have a sheepy face until Max mentioned it. “Go to sleep, I'll see you tomorrow, ok?”

I nod getting up the stairs. “Have a safe flight.”

“Sleep well.” He smiles while drinking his Red Bull, hanging out.

Mornings are officially cold, but the sun keeps you warm as the few sunlights touch your skin. I finished my first snack of the day, sending the last information for one of the companies who will work with us when I hear wheels on the gravel, Max is here.

I close my laptop running to the main door, excited to see him after one week, still one I opened the door, Max isn’t there.

One more time, my blood runs cold.

“Hanna was right.” Caleb is standing at the door with his hands on the pocket of his jacket smiling.

I curse low, I hate to admit it but Hanna keeps knowing some things about me.

“Can we talk?” I close the door behind me. “I guess your parents are inside, I get it.”

Caleb waits a couple of seconds but simply seeing him smiling looking so fresh is making my anger increase.

“I just want to come and make sure you’re alright, you seem quite impressed and…”

“You never worry about me.” I grip the cast trying to contain me. “It’s stupid you pretend now.”

Caleb got down his head. “Listen Y/N, things kind of mess up, but…”

“Mess up?” I scoff. “You better get out of here.” The tears on my eyes make everything blurry.

“I don’t cause you so much damage. Jeez Y/N, you seem happy in a new relationship, that’s a good sign.”

I couldn’t hold back, the next thing I realized was that my hand was hitting his cheek. “Go.”

“I deserved that, I know, I came here for…” Like he stumbles with his own feets he goes backwards, it was until Max appeared behind him pulling him for the jacket I blink and my blurry vision became clear.

“She told you to go.” Caleb scoffs but I know he won’t take a step back.

“Don’t get involved in this, this is between her and me.” I see Max’s face switch as he caresses my face, the leath eyes on him.

“Get fuck out of here.” I grip Max's arm seeing he's about to push him, he turns around grabbing my hand.

“She told you who I am?” I feel my stomach flipp and I hiss. Caleb saw my eyes and he knew it. “You don’t tell him.”

“Enough, go.” Max grabs him by the jacket pushing him to his car.

“Max!” I try to grip his arm back, Max is so angry that he didn't even listen to me.

“I WAS HER FIANCE, IDIOT!” Max shutter for a minute but he opens the door of his car, pushing him.

I can’t move, I've been holding my breath but all I do is sit on the stairs.

Max grip the door. “Go, before I call the police.”

Caleb holds his serious face and bluffs from the last time. “You can thank me later.”

I hide my face between my legs and my arms, trembling, feeling my world is collapsing one more time.

“Hey, hey, can you look at me?” When Max sees I don’t move he kneels in front of me and hugs me, that was all I needed to break in tears.

No matter if all the walls are crumbling down, there are some wounds behind them, and sometimes those wounds are so easy to bleed like the first time.

I push him away, I stand pushing him, one more time. “Leave me alone.” I clean my face but tears are impossible to stop.

“Y/N.” He grips my hand on his chest.

“You don’t hear me?” I take my hand off his chest. “Leave me alone.” I said between grip teeths.

I ran back to the door opened by closing it with a big thud, unable to move. I slip until the ground, my chest hurts, my breath is fast and my body is trembling.

“Can you please…” Max said. “Please don't shut me down.”

I cover my mouth for he won’t hear me. “Y/N.”

I don’t know how much time has passed until I hear another voice behind the door, but my fear fades away when I recognize Thomas' voice.

“Y/N, it’s me, can you please open it?” Thomas knocked softly.

“Tell him… Tell him to go.” My voice broke in every word.

“Y/N..” Thomas said in a begging tone.

I clean my face. “He goes or both of you.”

I don’t want to distinguish what they said, just a loud <Fuck> from Max before the loud sound of wheels on the gravel, let me know is ok come out.

Just in that moment I opened, throwing myself in Thomas' arms crying like I did years ago.

It took me a lot of time to calm down, but when I got it, I called Lewis to explain it; want it or not, Max will ask him when they meet in Japan. He cursed low and I could hear the anger as he asked me if I would be fine being alone this weekend.

“I’ll go Mika’s house.” It’s late at night and Mika and Thomas are there helping me, in all.

“Call Nicola in case…” I heard someone calling for him, he’s already in Japan and for them it’s early morning.

“Let’s talk when you come here, ok?” Lewis breathes out. “Ple…”

“I won’t say anything, don’t worry. Try to rest, I’ll see you as soon as I can.” I heard he asked for another minute. “Love you.”

“Bye Lew.”

I hang out but my eyes are lost in the big trees. “Y/N, ready?”

Mika is under the frame door with my purse as Thomas walks with my bags in his hand.

They waited for days for me to speak about it. Mom and dad called me when they didn't see any show for me being in the paddock so I told them what happened, even when they tried to remain calm I know they were angry too.

The farm is gone now, a big land is in front of my eyes with machinery all over the place; anyone there, after all it is Saturday morning..

“I’m terrified.” Thomas lifts his eyes from the blueprints.

All these days I isolate myself in Newport, my house is in the last touches and the shelter in the first phases.

Thomas forgot the papers we’ll need this Monday, after leaving Mika in the hospital we drove here.

“Y/N.” Thomas whispered. “It’s not easy, it’s ok to…”

“No it is not, I hurt him, I know.” I clear my throat. “But, I’m trying to protect him from all the shit.”

“Y/N!” Thomas spat leaving the pen on the table. “Don’t say that.”

“Do you even imagine what would happen if someone saw Max Verstappen pulling a guy into his car as a girl is crying on the floor?” Thomas bluffs but he knows as me that would be a pretty big scandale. “I’m scared that he probably thinks I’m a playmaker.”

He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times trying to put his word in order. “A guy like Max didn’t care that much, besides he never thought that of you. I talked with him and believed Y/N the only thing it was in his mind at that moment was to protect you.”

Thomas grabs the papers and walks to the exit of the small tent where he works on the week. “He just want to make sure you’re safe.”

I see the leaves on the ground in brown, orange and yellow colors. “I know you’re not ready to tell him and like Mika said it’s not because he must know your past, it's just because if someone hurt you, I bet he would like to know.”

“I’ll drag too many people to this mess.” I feel a knot on my throat as I see my shoes playing with the ground.

“I’m going to correct you.” Thomas jostled me softly. “YOU have so many people you trust and know we care about you, and the same people you know you can lean on.”

Imagines of my family, friends and new friends that appear in my life, giving me a hug when I need it, hearing me all the time, even just calling to ask if I already eat, flow my mind, as a smile appears on my face.

“Is it bad that you lean on someone new?” I see Thomas and raise his shoulders. “After all, in these… whoa almost a year, that’s what you both been doing right?”

I chuckle letting Max’s memories clear my mind. I see my phone, it’s not late.

“Give me a couple of minutes.” Thomas smiles and nods.

“I’ll wait in the car.” I waited until I heard the sound of the door to dial his number.

I don’t wait too long until the third beep Max picks up, of course he won’t let me speak first.

“Are you ok?” I scrunch my nose trying to contain my tears. “Y/N…”

“Forgive me. I didn’t push you away, it's just, it was so much in that moment. I’ll tell you what you have to know, I swear but not now.” I moved side to side of the tent.

“Don’t bite your cheeks.” I giggle releasing I biting the inside of my cheeks. “You’ll hurt yourself.”

“Max…”

“All I care is that you are ok.” I heard the sound of him moving on the bed.

“I am now, hearing you, I’m better now.” I closed my eyes like he could see me.

“Don’t do this to me schat, no when you’re far away.” Max complains. “And all I want to do is kiss you and hug you right now.”

I cover my face feeling a tear slip. “Let's find each other when the triple heads of Asia end, ok?” Max growls. “Is it so much your race thinking that is making me so happy?”

“I’ll do more than that, count with that.” I heard someone knock on his door.

“I’ll leave you.” Max said goodbye but I added one last thing. “Max, I’m holding tight, really tight.”

“That’s all you have to do.”

The race was exceptional, Max won with a comfy difference of 2-3 seconds with Charles, but I never expected what would happen in the press conference.

Max posted photos of the race on the top of the podium, in the last slide was a photo we took when we were in Liverpool watching the sunrise.

Not a simple photo of the sunrise; his face illuminated for the sun in orange colors as I’m hugging him but my face isn’t appearing in the frame, just my hair and my arm around his neck.

>Keeping her busy with winns.

In one of the many comments Max had about if there is a chance of tha girl in the picture could be me, I replay.

> 👀

That unleashed an endless week of rumors and even a timeline of my relationship with Max started to spread. In the time line are photos that I didn't even know when or were taken.

Even Lewis helps to increase the rumors by posting a story of me laying on the couch of his house with the small description of…

>Keeping an eye on her.

Which Mercedes complement with.

>Keeping a lot of eyes on her.

Red Bull can't stay behind, answering Mercedes.

>When you are busy we can keep an eye on her too. 😉

By the time the GP of China ends, Max was questioned about his position on the rumors.

“Max, what can you say about the things that are happening around you and Lewis' little sister?” Max keeps his face neutral.

“Y/N is an amazing person, but I'm afraid Lewis lost from his view a couple of times.” A big smile with pressed lips appeared on his face.

Lewis regrets he didn't have the chance to reply to something, but his tour with the reporters ended.

“We didn't want a soft lunch, right?” Max said as he arrived to apartment in Monaco.

“Not after a race!” I laugh rolling my eyes.

“Where are you? It's pretty dark. I can barely see you.” He said searching for his keys in his bag.

I opened his door jumping on him, causing him to act fast grabbing his phone and me at the same time. “In your house.”

Max curses but holds me tight against him.

“Oh my God.” He splits so he can see my face. “Hi.”

I scrunch my nose, jumping was a bad idea because my casted arm hurts.

“Reckless girl.” He observed my arm. “Are you ok? You shouldn't be jumping around, you know there is a percentage of people who can aggravate a fracture even being with a cast.”

I roll my eyes. “So much blah blah blah.”

I pull him by his shirt for kissing him so slowly but passionately, with just one intention, leaving him breathless.

I get it because the lack of hair was the only thing that made us separate.

“I miss you.” I whisper stick to his lips. “I'm sorry, I know…”

We're so lost in the moment that he just pressed his lips against mine one more time.

“Welcome to your home.” I whisper following for a hug, both of his arms across my back.

“This couldn’t feel more like home.” He hid his face on my neck.

I smile but I remember what I have inside of his home. “Oh, let’s get inside.”

I split as I pull him inside of his apartment but I stop him in his hallway. “No, no, no.” I put my right hand on his face. “Don’t see.”

Max has to walk with his knees a little bit folded and in an uncomfortable position, but still he smiles walking in a dark apartment.

We reached his living room, where on the small table a cheesecake with a little candle waits for him.

“Ta da!” I take my hand of his eyes, my eyes stuck on his face all the time. His face lights up too.

“Oh my god!” He blinks and sees me, all my words were cut for a kiss. “This is amazing, thank you so much.”

“Blow it! Or you will have melted a candle on that.” Max giggles and blows the candle as I light on.

After a detailed look he realized the shape of the candles. “This is Jimmy and Sassy. Amazing, totally amazing.”

“Even though I like to take the credit for this, I can’t.” We sat down on his carpet. “I asked Alexa about a place for the cheesecake and the candles, Emma knows a place in London.”

“Can I?” Max points to the cheesecake for taking a piece.

I giggle. “All yours.” I don’t have to tell him twice for he takes a small portion of melting at the first bite. “That good, huh?”

Max nods offering me a bite which I gladly take, yes, so good.

Watching him enjoying the dessert makes my heart squeeze, just thinking how worried and mad he could be.

“I’m sorry.” I said playing with the carpet. “I promise I won’t do it again but I was scared.”

Max grabs my hands and turns around facing me. “Don’t say that again. I’ll wait, if you think it is something you should tell me, I’ll wait until you’re ready.”

“You know, it is hard imagining a life without you.” It’s the only thing that I have clear on my mind, the only thing I have for certain right now lost in his eyes.

Max blinks, I grab his face between my hands, smiling at him. “It's impossible for me too.” Max chuckles pulling me as I sit on his lap, both of my things at the side of his legs.

I surrounded his neck with my arms. “You're one of a kind Verstappen.” Max laughs, kissing me.

“Emilian for you, too many people call me that.” I laughed too nodding. “Thanks for be home.”

I hugged him tighter, he’s right, this couldn’t feel more like home.

#f1 #f1 imagine #formula 1 #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 x female reader #max verstappen imagine #lewis hamilton #mercedes #sir lewis hamilton

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gothic-mothic · 2 years ago

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You’ve done very well, here’s the reward I promised

#the stanley parable #tsp #I love drawing tk’s hair Omgg #the buried SU fan comes out of me whenever I draw them #posting this early too good for you guys #well technically late #bc I usually post at 8:30 #but I didn’t want to wait until Tomorrow #ANYWAY #I drew this while watching Penny Snapcube play ultra deluxe!#definitely recommend her play though she’s a joy to watch #tspud #the stanley parable ultra deluxe #tspud fanart #.png

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messrmoonyy · 8 months ago

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- The gilded cage

Arthur Morgan x Fem!reader

Request- how about some of the girls going along to the mayors party in Saint Denis. Have you seen the cut content of Molly when she was meant to be at the party? So Dutch takes Molly along, Arthur takes reader? And what if Arthur gets a a little jealous of reader mingling and then they sneak away for some smutty time together…

A/N- this is my first Arthur fic so he may be a lil out of character whilst I get to grips with writing him. I also have not written straight smut in like 2 years. But we vibe. Enjoy

Also shoutout to @devnmon for supporting and enabling my rdr2 brainrot. You’re a real one

Warnings- 18+ | smut: unprotected p in v, semi public sex ( wc - 7.7k )

Masterlist / AO3

Saint Denis was a little too rich for your blood. You’d only ventured into the city a handful of times, but the times you had you’d decided you didn’t really like it. You felt too… common. You never had liked the wealthy, flaunting their security and safety that was wrapped up in dollars and gold.

But. You loved money. God did you love money. And as much as you hated the residents of the city, you sure loved robbing them blind. You always had had a knack for making the rich mysteriously lose their dollars and their watches, it had been the sole reason you’d ended up in Dutch’s gang in the first place.

You’d even tried picking his pockets at first.

But you were on best behaviour tonight. Under Dutch’s orders. And you figured as boring as that sounded, you’d oblige. Simply because the men rarely let the girls get involved with any of the interesting stuff in camp. There was only so much laundry you could do before your brain truly went numb from boredom. Only so much listening to Miss Grimshaw nagging at you to do some work or Micah antagonising someone over something stupid.

So even with Dutch’s strict orders to behave and your dislike of the city, you had jumped at the chance to come along to the party.

“ i can practically smell the money “ you sighed as you took Arthur’s hand to step down from the coach, already hearing the bustle of the party happening somewhere out the back of the mansion in front of you “ you sure I can’t go pickin? Just a lil “ you were half joking, half not. On the times you had wandered into the city, the stuff you’d gathered picking your way around the saloons and back alleys had been a decent haul. The stuff some of these people carried around on the average day was enough to fund the food for the whole of camp for a couple days or more.

Who knew what kind of goodies they’d have on them in their finery.

“ no miss “ Dutch’s stern voice sounded, but he was sporting a small look of amusement “ keep those talented hands of yours to yourself. This is about business. We steal nothing. That goes for all of you. Steal. Nothing. Unless it’s information “

“ don’t worry. I’ll keep her in check “ Arthur spoke with a small chuckle, placing a hand lightly to your back.

“ this is why we shouldn’t have brought the women. They always cause trouble “ Bill complained, as he stepped out of the second coach with Hosea, making you scowl.

“ I hope you aren’t grouping me into that Mr Williamson “ Molly piped up with a disapproving scowl of her own as she stepped out of the coach, seemingly more mad at Dutch for not helping her out more than at Bill though. Arthur offered her his hand instead, helping her step onto the path without breaking her neck in her extravagant dress.

Always the gentleman.

She looked wonderful and you had begun to wonder if she had owned that dress all along or had gone out and got it special. Maybe Dutch had picked it up for her. It wouldn’t surprise you if she had been lugging it around from place to place, waiting for some perfect moment to pull it out. She always did look more put together than the majority of camp. Though you really didn’t understand how she could walk in the dress she was currently wearing, skirts full and you guessed pretty heavy too.

“ no need to bring you “ Bill continued.

“ I ain’t even causin’ trouble “ you piped in, throwing your own scowl Bills way again “ When did you last contribute to the box anyways huh Bill? I don’t see you doin’ nothin’ but sit around all damn day. No need to bring you I say. Jus’ cause you ain’t got no lady on your arm you’re complainin’ bout me and Molly “

“ what? A lady like you? I should be damn lucky I ain’t “

“ why you- “

“ Bill I suggest you leave it “ Arthur murmured lowly, planting himself between you and Bill before you did in fact cause some trouble. Bill grumbled something, spitting on the floor with a look of disgust and turning away from you.

Dutch sighed heavily, looking increasingly pissed off at the group in front of him and held his arm out to Molly.

“ Miss O’Shea “ It pained you a little to know he was probably only being nice to her tonight for appearances sake. He’d been practically ignoring her recently. And wasn’t doing Molly any good. You hoped a night out of camp would do her well “ now would you all just calm. Down. We, are simple distinguished gentleman, here for business. So start damn acting like it “ you scoffed at that, making a pointed look in Bills direction as you did

“ distinguished my ass “

“ play nice now “ Arthur said quietly, but you heard the smile in his tone as he did. He then offered you his arm as Dutch had done to Molly. But unlike Dutch the act didn’t feel performative, a way to blend in and appear far higher class than they actually were. Arthur actually was a gentleman. For the most part anyways.

“ why thank you mister “ you said in a cheery tone, throwing him a coy smile and slipping your gloved hands into the crook of his elbow.

It did feel a little funny to be walking beside him like that. All dressed up and in clothes that weren’t smeared with gun oil, dust or god knows what else. It made your mind drift a little to what life could’ve been like.

Your group crossed the street, promptly being stopped at the gates

“ gentleman “ the guard greeted, taking the invitation from Dutch’s hands “ the mayor doesn’t allow guns at official functions “ the way he looked at Dutch and the others was almost demeaning. Like he knew you were all riff raff and of course would be the sort to attend such an event armed “ Not after last years incident “ none of the boys seemed particularly thrilled to be handing over their firearms. Arthur in particular sighed heavily beside you as he handed his pistol over.

He didn’t like being unarmed. Especially when he was out with you. You usually also had your gun belt permanently fixed at your waist. But it wasn’t exactly fitting with your current attire.

Though you did note the guards didn’t even spare a glance to you or Molly, which in turn made you all the more smug knowing you had your knife tucked into your boot. Just in case of course.

“ Luca here will take you gentleman to Mr Bronte. I believe he is expecting you “

“ I know you got that knife in yer boot “ Arthur said lowly so that no one else would hear.

“ he ain’t said anythin’ about knifes. Only guns “ Arthur smiled and shook his head slightly, placing his hand over yours for a moment.

“ that’s my girl “

You walked up the neat cobbled path to the mayors house then, unable to do anything but look in awe at the huge house in front of you. You’d thought Shady Belle was something spectacular, had walked around every room imagining what it had looked like in all its glory. Amazed at the vastness of the place and all the rooms it had.

And yet it was nothing compared to this place. This was real money.

“ I look okay? “ you asked, suddenly feeling ever so slightly nervous, smoothing your hand over your skirts. Even in your attempts to look as clean and put together as you did, some part of you felt like everyone would see you were a walking sham.

All in all you knew you probably did look fine. The dress was the most lavish thing you’d ever owned, you didn’t even want to guess how much it had cost Arthur. It was still on the simpler side, skirts not quite as full as Mollys and not as detailed. But it was beautiful. Pale pink and ruffled shoulders and details on your skirts, gloves up to your elbows in a material so soft you’d sighed when you’d first pulled them on.

It all made a nice change from the usual simple clothes you wore, hips weighted by skirts rather than your gun belt. And skirts that didn’t have a million holes darned over.

And Arthur had picked it all out. Had picked it himself especially for you.

It did make you smile to imagine him in the tailors, completely out of his depth when it came to women’s fashion but determined to find you something nice. Your big, tough cowboy staring blankly at fabric swatches and fancy hats.

“ gonna be the prettiest girl here “ you smiled warmly at his words, hand smoothing over your dress again.

He’d turned up that morning into your shared room of shady Belle, finding you hiding away from Miss Grimshaw on the balcony, the dress draped over his arm along with some fancy suit and tie get up for himself. He’d looked almost sheepish as he’d shown you it, promising to go get you something else if you hated it. Which of course you hadn’t.

You’d practically jumped with joy at being able to go out on a job. The boys so rarely let the girls do anything meaningful other than tend to camp. Though this particular outing you knew Dutch had only brought you and Molly along because it would make your group seem a little more agreeable. Something about women making them look a little less intimidating. And of course Dutch and Arthur’s partners were the most obvious of choices.

Much to Mary-Beth and Karen’s dismay. Though they had very quickly changed their mind at the idea of having to hang off Bills arm all night.

It wasn’t exactly the reason you wanted to be brought along. But you took it.

The inside of the mansion was as glorious as the outside, it almost made you angry that people had such wealth. That these people could sleep in a new room each night of the week if they felt like it, when people were starving outside of their gates.

“ Hosea, Bill. Take the ladies out and enjoy the party. We’ll join you after we pay our respects to signor Bronte. Arthur, with me “ Arthur gave a curt nod

“ I won’t be long “ he assured, hand slipping down around your back and leaning down to your ear “ hands to yourself “ you scoffed as he said it, looking up at him as he stepped away from you.

“ I can’t promise “ you caught his smile as he walked over to Dutch and the staff. Disappearing up the stairs.

“ it’s just this way “ one of members of Lemieux’s staff spoke, gesturing the four of you in the direction of some doors leading out into the party.

“ let’s go ladies. You fancy a drink? “ Hosea said cheerfully, following closely behind you and Molly as you headed outside. You were ushered out into gardens, a mass of the rich and wealthy of Saint Denis all crowded around. Drinking and laughing at things you were sure were not as remotely funny as they were making it out to be.

Bill quickly made himself scarce, disappearing into the crowds to do lord knows what, much to your joy.

“ right. Champagne? “ Hosea excused himself to collect some drinks and you stood on the back porch looking down at the groups of people.

So far removed from what you were used to. You wondered how they’d react knowing you and your little group were currently sleeping in a barely standing plantation home, half of you out under the stars. That you were frauds. Not glamorous and wealthy like them.

In your experience the rich liked to pretend the poor didn’t exist. Unless they were hiring them as help.

“ oh I missed this “ Molly said beside you, almost dreamily in tone. And seemingly more to herself than to you. It was quite possibly the happiest you’d seen her look in days.

She fit right in. Her gorgeous dress rivalling that of some of the other woman down in the courtyard, her hair piled up on her head and her fancy jewellery that was actually hers. Not something stolen from an unsuspecting lady in town. This was Molly. Money and wealth. It still baffled you how she had ended up with Dutch, how she could leave that all behind for a life wandering.

“ you go to party’s like this a lot? Before Dutch I mean “ she gave a small shrug, searching in her small purse for a moment before placing a cigarette between her lips. You could imagine an even younger Molly, a bright eyed teenager done up all fancy and weaving her way through a party just like this one.

“ sometimes “ her eyes were scanning the crowds, practically sparkling at being surrounded by the upper class again “ wonder what kind of people are here “ she seemed to be talking more to herself than you again and very promptly dismissed herself, heading down the stairs and gliding between the guests. Like some true social butterfly, decked out in her finest.

Hosea returned with three glasses of champagne and a slightly confused look noticing Molly had vanished.

“ eh more for me “ he said with a smile, handing you your glass before promptly finishing his own and moving onto what would’ve been Mollys “ I’m going to do some snooping. You’ll be alright? “

“ I’ll be jus’ fine Hosea “ you said with a smile and watched him too disappear down into the crowds.

It was interesting to watch them, to see them behave as if this entire event was a normal evenings activity. Maybe for them it was. But it all felt so… false. People who appeared to be friends but didn’t seem to even really like each other, some silent competition between everyone to have the better dress. The better hat. The biggest house.

You’d take your creaky cot under the stars with Arthur any day, would much rather sit around the campfire getting tipsy and singing. Surrounded by real family. Real friends. Relationships built on loyalty and protection. Not on trying to out do each other.

You walked between the small crowds, eavesdropping on conversations in hopes to find something useful. Something to take back to Dutch to prove bringing you along wasn’t a useless endeavour. But it was mostly women discussing their elaborate hats, sharing stories of the terrible jobs their maids did, or complaining about their husbands poker habits. Or gossiping about how they had heard one of their friends was in delicate condition.

You heard mentions of Leviticus Cornwall, but nothing concrete enough to warrant telling anyone about.

You tried hunting down Molly, simply to have a friend to stand beside and not feel so…out of place. But she had vanished into the crowds somewhere. So you planted yourself on the side of an ornate water fountain, simply hoping Arthur would return soon. Maybe he’d dance with you, or take you walking around the vast garden laid out ahead of you.

You two never really got the chance to do things like that. Romantic things. Arthur had his ways, of course. He’d take you out riding or sit with you on his lap by the fire, telling you about whatever interesting thing he’d discovered that day. He’d bring you flowers he’d pick from time to time, find you interesting things when he went wandering, let you read aloud to him with the excuse he wanted you to get better at it. When in reality you had seen him confess to his journal that he simply just liked to listen to your voice.

He was far softer than he appeared. With you anyway. And as much as you didn’t like the kinds of people in attendance, you thought it might be nice to pretend for the night. To be two wealthy young oil tycoons, dancing and drinking champagne together, gushing about your money and your jewels.

You made your way through another flute of champagne before he returned, interrupting your frivolous daydreaming.

“ there she is “ you turned your head with a beaming smile at his voice, relief at a familiar face “ been lookin for ya “ he sat down beside you, looping an arm around your waist “ you behavin’? “

“ course I am. Ain’t took as much as a pearl “ you said quite proudly, though decided not to mention that the temptation had truly been hard to deny. Not only were these people rich, they were getting drunker by the second. They were practically begging to be robbed.

“ good girl “

“ it go okay with ugh.. what’s his name? “ you asked, turning to face him. He looked just as uncomfortable with the entire situation as you did. This wasn’t his scene. It never had been. He’d grown up just as poor as you had.

Arthur robbed the rich, he didn’t fraternise with them.

“ Bronte. Yeah. Fine. Dutch he’s tryna find the mayor or somethin “ he ran a finger between his neck and collar of his shirt, clearly growing uncomfortable with it. It made you laugh a little.

“ you ain’t cut out for the finer life “

“ no. I ain’t “ he was looking around at the guests in a similar way to you. With a mild sense of disgust “ saw some woman back there, hat so big she were topplin over “ you smiled and leant your head against his shoulder, he tucked you in closer to his side and dropped a kiss to the top of your head.

“ was daydreamin whilst you were with Dutch “ you mused.

“ yeah? About what? “

“ playin’ pretend. Bein’ fancy for the night. Y’know dancin’ and pretendin’ we got buckets of money “ the small sigh Arthur let out made you wonder if he thought that was a life you pined for. It wasn’t. Not really. Yeah, you liked money but.. you just wanted to be comfortable. Little ranch or a cabin some place quiet. Not poor. Not rich. Just. Existing happily “ ain’t us though “

“ you and me we… we ain’t like these people. We ain’t ever gonna be like these people “

“ we don’t gotta be. Me, you. Some pokey lil farm someplace out west? Now that’s the dream cowboy “ he chuckled and nodded, dropping another kiss to your head

“ that’s the dream darlin’ “ you both sat quietly for a short while longer, watching the rich get drunker and more foolish. The odd person acknowledged your presence, greeting you as they passed or tipping their hat. But mostly they left you alone. It was at the point that one man drunkenly stumbled into a bush a few feet away that made you speak up again.

“ never thought I’d miss that damn swamp. But lord above… these people “ Arthur scoffed as he too watched the fool try and right himself again, leaves sticking to the pomade in his hair

“ yeah. I think I need a drink “ he patted your side lightly so you’d stop leaning on him and stood up “ champagne? “

“ oh well ain’t you just so kind sir “ you said in your best attempt a dramatic upper class drawl “ and you gonna dance with me after mister? “ you asked with a teasing smile and he rubbed a hand at the back of his neck for a moment looking almost sheepish. But he was smiling, the sweet genuine kind he only really seemed to show around you.

“ sure darlin’. But I’m definitely gonna need that drink for that “ he ventured back into the crowds then and you stayed put, continuing to watch the guests laugh and talk about how incredible their lives were.

“ I don’t recognise you “ an inquisitive voice spoke, tinged with that accent that the wealthy had started latching on to in some attempts to make themselves sound more superior. Smarter. Whatever. You thought it was quite ridiculous. You turned your head to look at the man, seeing if he was in fact talking to you.

“ talkin’ to me mister? “ he was eyeing you up and down like he was somewhat intrigued but amused by you at the same time. A stupid top hat on his head adored with plumes and the chain of a pocket watch hanging from his pocket. It almost made you laugh at how your brain immediately began thinking about how you could steal it and how much it was worth.

“ I am indeed miss “ he stepped closer, puffing on his cigar and not taking his eyes off of you for a second “ I have frequented many of the mayors parties but you… I do not remember you “ a small wave of panic flushed your skin but you remained calm. Not recognising you was far easier to work your way out of than if he had recognised your face.

“ I’m new in town. My… uncle. He’s friends with Mr Bronte “ the man hummed, sitting himself down beside you.

“ so you’re here with your uncle? “ you shifted slightly at his closeness but remembered you needed to keep up appearances so forced a smile onto your face

“ yeah. And my husband. He’s around here someplace “ the man’s eyes immediately darted down to your gloved hands, probably noting the lack of a ring on your finger. You and Arthur weren’t married. But you may as well have been. He often referred to you as his wife, and he as your husband.

He’d ask you one day.

“ a lucky man “ the man said, blowing smoke in your direction and still looking you up and down. You decided at that moment you very much wanted to steal his watch. Dutch be damned. Having to put up with the likes of slimy rich men for more than ten seconds… well you figured that warranted you at least getting something shiny in return.

“ oh well ain’t you just a charmer “ you said with a smile, placing a hand to his arm “ you here with your wife mister? “ the man laughed and shook his head, scooting a little closer to you.

“ I’m more of a… free spirit “ you gave a small laugh, trying not to crinkle your nose at the smoke blowing in your face again.

Arthur often smelt of fresh smoke, both cigarette and fire, and that fresh air smell that clung to your clothes after being out in the open air for hours. And you loved it on him, because it was well… him. The smoke from this man was far from appealing. But that watch…

“ ohh I see. You ain’t one to be tied down huh? “ your fingers inched closer to the man’s pocket, wrapping lightly around the chain.

“ everythin’ okay here? “ Arthur appeared behind you, a glass in each of his hands.

“ ah is this the fine man that brought you along? Well aren’t you lucky sir “ the man spoke and you noted he didn’t even glance in Arthur’s direction as he spoke, you were now looping the chain of his watch around your wrist. Just one small tug…

“ Mr Callahan “ Arthur murmured, handing you a glass and standing behind you with a hand to your shoulder

“ wonderful to meet you sir. Me and your wife were having a delightful conversation weren’t we dear? "The pressure of Arthur’s fingers increased as he spoke the sweet name, though you weren’t entirely sure it wasn’t because he’d noticed the man’s watch was now safely hidden in the fabric of your skirt.

“ oh yes. Wonderful mister “ the watch discreetly made its way into your boot and you were ready to get away

“ where’d you find a beautiful thing like this sir? I may need to frequent the place myself “ he placed a hand onto your arm and finally looked up at Arthur rather than at you. He made your skin crawl. You didn’t hold a single ounce of remorse for the stolen watch

“ oh no where you’d like “ his tone was a little snippy, the kind when someone was starting to piss him off but he was trying to keep his cool. And Arthur kicking off in the middle of the mayors party wasn’t exactly a part of Dutch’s plan.

“ now I am so sorry but i believe my husband did promise me a dance “ you rose to your feet, sipping your champagne before placing the glass down and taking Arthur’s from his hands “ ain’t that right my love? “

“ yeah… need ya to come with me “ he said lowly, offering you his arm. His face had gone slightly dark, not entirely able to read him, you frowned slightly. But let him lead you away from the man, completely bypassing the area with couples twirling to the music.

“ where we goin? “ you asked with a small laugh, latching onto his arm again and having to take quick steps to keep up with his purposeful strides “ Arthur?”

He didn’t answer immediately, simply led you away from the crowds and around the side of the mayor's house.

“ You mad cause I took that watch? Look he deserved it- “

“ ain’t mad “ he mumbled, still leading you along.

“ okay… so we stealin’ somethin’ else? “ you asked with excitement filtering into your words, already trying to figure out what it could be “ need me to act like a maid? I can do that real good y’know. Is it money? Papers? Oh, is it jewellery? Gold? “ Arthur chuckled at your excitement and shook his head, bringing you to a halt between some elaborately trimmed bushes and trees in planters.

“ we ain’t stealin’ a thing “ you pouted with a mild disappointment and he chuckled again, advancing on you and backing you up against the wall behind you “ don’t gimme that look “ he tucked his fingers under your chin, nudging your face upwards to look at him. He was a god few inches taller than you, but he always made you feel ten times smaller when he looked down at you like that.

“ what’s gotten into you? “ you asked with a giggle, hands slipping under his jacket to slide over his waist.

“ just wanted some time alone with you is all “

“ behind some trees? You are a strange man sometimes Arthur Morgan y’know that? “ he gave a heavy sigh and brushed his thumb across your cheek softly, watching you intently. He always looked at you like you like you were the only woman on the planet “ you sure you ain’t mad about the watch? “

“ no. I ain’t mad. Feller flirtin’ with my woman and only loses his watch sounds like a good deal to me “ he grumbled, leaning forward to press a kiss to your lips.

And a light bulb suddenly pinged on in your head.

“ are you jealous? “ you asked, unable to hide your complete utter joy and amusement as the realisation hit you. He grumbled some kind of an answer and tried to kiss you again but you turned your head to the side, so he settled for your neck instead “ why Arthur Morgan. You are jealous “

He didn’t answer you again, simply tilted your head so he could get at your neck more, his other hand splaying over your lower back to tug you close against him. A mischievous streak ran through you and you chewed on your lip for a moment deciding whether or not to push his buttons.

“ he was kinda nice to me y’know. He seemed a nice feller “ Arthur’s teeth grazed your skin at your words and your smile grew bigger “ kept me from bein’ so lonely with you gone “

“ he wanted to do more than keep you company “ your fingers ran through the long strands of his hair, sighing softly as he continued to kiss your neck

“ you think? You gonna keep me company now? “

“ oh I’ll keep you company “ you had said it only really to tease. Thinking that actually, a sordid little moment with your lover behind the bushes would be an incredible improvement on the evening.

But it was hard to simply just kiss Arthur. He had wandering hands, had lips as addictive as whiskey. Even when you assumed he wasn’t particularly trying to work you up, he did. But the way he was tugging at your body to keep you pressed against him, the way his lips were burning a trail along your neck and across your jaw…

“ Arthur… y’know anyone could come round here “

“ stay quiet then and they ain’t gonna be none the wiser “ your skin prickled with heat at his words and your hips involuntarily rolled against him. Maybe it was the thrill. Maybe it was the fact that he was so… needy. Desperate to remind himself that you were his and not some stupid rich man in an equally as stupid hat.

He groaned against your hot skin as you pressed against him, the sound igniting something deep in your bones. Flaring up through your veins and cursing like lava through your veins.

Your hands found themselves back under his jacket, fingers tugging at his shirt to free it from where it has been neatly tucked into his pants. You knew you couldn’t get it off of him but you still wanted to feel.

You hummed softly when your fingertips met his skin, as hot as you knew yours must be. He loved to feel you touch him, loved when dragged your nails across his back, sunk your teeth into his shoulder to quiet your moans when you were dangerously close to other members of camp.

You wished you could do it in that moment. Wished you were back in your room, truly the only good thing to come out of Shady Belle was the fact that you had a room.

But Arthur didn’t seem keen on waiting. Seemingly having some point to prove to himself. And you were more than happy to let him.

His hands drifted down to the floaty material of your skirt, reluctantly pulling himself away from your neck to frown at the material in front of him.

“ why you gotta have so many damn skirts? “ he grumbled, fumbling with the layers of fabric hanging from your waist.

“ you picked the dress “ you reminded him with a smile, chasing after his lips again. Desperate to kiss him properly now that he had stopped his assault on your neck. He kissed you with a energy that demanded your attention, that drew you in and locked you in place. Hot. Wet. Addictive “ least it ain’t as big as Mollys “ you said when you let yourself pull away.

“ yeah well I weren’t plannin’ on keepin’ you in it when we- god damn there’s enough fabric here to dress the entire camp “ you couldn’t help the giggle that fell past your lips, watching him try to figure out how he was going to play out whatever sordid thoughts were running through his head.

Your own mind had quite ungracefully fallen into the gutter itself, realising exactly what Arthur wanted. And your constant desperation for the man in front of you overruling all your concerns at the location.

He seemed to be getting a little agitated with your dress and you held back the urge to giggle at him. Instead opting to try sooth the frown lines worrying at his forehead, reaching forward to palm at him through the material of his pants. In hopes it would be some kind of incentive for him to hurry up as well.

As much as you needed him as badly as you needed air, you were also still aware of exactly where you were. And how long it would take until Dutch came looking.

“ c’mon Arthur “ you whispered, desperation beginning to fill your words “ ‘fore they notice we’re gone “ it had been his idea to take you away, and yet you were seemingly the more desperate of the two of you now. But how could he or anyone else blame you? When he was all gussied up like he was. In truth you liked his normal attire a little more. Liked him a little more… rugged. But lord did he look handsome in his suit, his hair and beard all neat and tidy.

Arthur’s breath audibly caught in his throat from your touch and it seemed to effectively spur him on.

“ yes ma’am “ He spun you around with strong hands to your waist, your own hands bracing yourself against the wall. The next moments were a flurry of his hands hitching your skirts over your hips, grabbing at your undergarments before a strong arm looped around your waist to pull you back against him.

His hand disappeared under your bunched up skirts making you gasp softly as his fingers dipped into the warmth between your thighs.

“ this all for me darlin? “ you could hear the smirk in his words, feel it as he brushed his nose against your cheek. The short stands of his beard tickled at your skin, sending a shiver snaking along your spine.

“ course it is “ the sound of a lady drunkenly laughing a little too close by made you freeze, hand reaching around to grab at Arthur’s arm.

He didn’t seem discouraged by the idea of someone stumbling upon you both, simply moved his hand up to grasp gently at your jaw, turning your face towards his to kiss you. His other hand was still between your thighs, and you sighed softly against his lips as he drew a thick finger between the wetness of your folds “ oh Arthur…“

Your cunt clenched around nothing. As if silently begging for his fingers to just push inside of you, take you in a way you had always found so much more personal than just sitting on his cock. His fingers that held his guns, that he used to beat people to death more times than either of you could care to count. Those same fingers working you open, covered in the slick evidence of your desire for him instead of gun oil. Fingers that cause pain and damage, but also sent you spiralling into mind blowing pits of pleasure.

And paired with the current location? It just felt… dirty. Erotic. You felt no better than a common whore loitering in a saloon for custom. You wanted him so desperately, needed him.

“ Arthur “ you sighed, pushing your self against his hand as he toyed with your swollen clit.

“ tell me what y’need pretty girl “ he said softly, tickling your skin with his beard and dragging his tongue across your neck before sinking his teeth into the flesh, making you whimper.

“ you- Arthur. You. Please “ his hand continued its gentle movements as he worked at your neck. You pushed your hips back against him, grinding against the hardness still trapped by his pants in a way that couldn’t be comfortable. His breath shuddered against your skin as you did, holding you flush against him to let you wiggle your hips in a silent invitation to just take you already.

A smashing glass drew your attention briefly away from him again. And as much as you could let him do that all evening, you were still hyper aware of your surroundings.

You silently wished he’d just waited until you were back at camp, could take his time with you on that shitty little bed in the privacy of your room at Shady Belle.

But there you were. And there were hundreds of others only a few feet away too.

“ stop teasin we ain’t got the time “ at any other time he’d have worked you into a mess with his fingers, even dropped to his knees and disappeared under your skirts, have you coming on his tongue over and over again just because he wanted to. But he hadn’t planned the situation well at all, and you weren’t exactly in the best of locations. If anyone so much as peaked around the corner of the building a little too far you were certain you’d be spotted.

And wouldn’t that be a tale.

“ ain’t you bossy “ you opened your mouth to snip back at him, but your words evaporated into nothing but a soft whimper as Arthur followed your demands, pushing past his desires to take his time with you. Truly it was his own fault that he couldn’t though, as he withdrew his fingers and fumbled with the buttons on his pants.

“ Arthur “ you whimpered softly, breath stuttering at the feel of his swollen tip brushing between the wet folds of your cunt.

“ quiet now darlin’ “ He pushed in slowly, in the way he so often did. Making sure you felt every single devastating inch, your back arching against his chest as your body flushed with warmth. Even after so many times the stretch was still a lot, a deep burning ache that eventually melted away into a blinding hot pleasure that burnt its way through your veins.

He pressed on until he was flush against you, the material of his opened pants scratching against your soft skin as he held you there a moment. He exhaled slowly, his breath warm against your skin.

It was never fucking with Arthur. Not very often anyways. It was love making. Soft. And slow. And a brutal pace that made sure you remembered he’d been there the next morning, but oh so drawn out. He was gentle. Tender. It had always shocked you how violent he could be and yet become so careful and soft with you. And even there, concealed by a few perfectly trimmed bushes and planters, he was taking his time. Reminding you that you were his. And maybe reminding himself of the fact too.

Reminding himself that maybe there were men only a few feet away that wanted you. That would pay for the pleasure of your company. But only Arthur could have it, that he was the only one you would ever offer it too.

That this deep rooted instinct to protect what was his wasn’t entirely necessary but god was it wanted. That his desire made your blood boil with lust, skin burn under his touch.

“ That’s my girl “ he whispered, tone low and steady as he set himself into a bruising pace, still tightly holding onto you as he did. His face had fallen to your neck again, lips latching onto every inch of exposed skin they could.

You were certain you were going to walk back into the party looking like you’d taken a dip with some leeches.

You tried your best to be quiet, teeth sinking into your bottom lip in some hopes that mixed with the sounds of the party happening only a few feet away you wouldn’t be heard. But it was so hard to be silent when he was fucking you like that. So determined, so strong, pulling out almost completely before pushing back in hard.

Your hand was still gripping at his arm, blunt fingernails digging at his skin through his jacket. His pace increased a little, settling into a steady rhythm that carved a devastating stretch inside of you.

“ y’know I think that feller- that feller back there. He wanted you like this “ you couldn’t help the smile that pulled its way onto your face, still flushing with joy at his jealousy. You knew Arthur desired you carnally. Always had done and always would. But a reminder like the present one was always nice.

“ y’think so? “

“ I know “ he grumbled, his pace increasing a little more, clearly attempting to take out his frustrations with the handsy man. But also maybe simply trying to assure himself in the process too.

Arthur didn’t like to admit it but he was a little self conscious. You’d heard him talk down to himself in the mirror countless times, had seen the way he spoke about himself when you peaked over his shoulder at his journal. Had an almost crippling fear of abandonment that sometimes he did need to be reminded that you wanted him.

“ poor feller “ you said with a small sigh before pushing lightly at Arthur’s arm so he’d let you go. You winced slightly as he pulled out, immediately missing the heavy feel of him there, and spun around tugging him back towards you by the lapels of his jacket “ ain’t got nothin on you “ you hitched your skirts up in your arm and wrapped your spare hand around the now slick length of his cock making him stutter a breath.

His face was flushed, bottom lip shiny from kissing you. You wanted to absolutely devour him, strip him of his fancy clothes and remind him just how much you wanted every part of him.

The look in his eyes was almost primal. Desire and lust burning so brightly it made your chest ache, to feel so wanted. To feel so desired.

To have a man so usually controlled and put together, be reduced to not being able to even wait until you got home. That he had to have you there. Right there in that moment. He couldn’t wait.

You needed him to pull you apart. To worship every inch of you in the way he so often did.

But the side of the mayor's house was truly not the place for such a thing.

“ no one could make me feel the way you do “ you whispered, stroking him softly in your hand as you tried to stoke the fire under his ego. Make him realise he truly had no reason to be jealous “ and him back there? He thought he could huh? Poor feller “

“ poor feller “ he echoed, sliding a hand over your leg and hitching it over his hip, sliding back into you with a welcome ease that made your head fall back against the wall.

“ Thinks he could fuck me better than this? Man must be damn crazy “ you said with a smile, breathless as he fucked into you. You were practically dripping around him, the lewd sounds between you enough to make your skin flush.

“ you’re mine darlin “ you nodded immediately. Not a single doubt in your mind on the matter. You were his. And he yours. That was how it would always be “ all mine, you hear? “

“ all yours Arthur. Ain’t no man in this whole damn country could replace you”

He moved with more determination, thrusting into you harder in a way you knew was going to bruise your back from rubbing against the wall. His all too familiar deep, hard pace. You pulled him down by the back of his neck, muffling your whimpers with his mouth cautious again that you were getting a little reckless.

“ that good? Makin me feel so good darlin’ such a good girl “ the entire thing felt almost animalistic. Desires so strong they couldn’t be withheld. Dirty. Filthy. Perfect.

“ God Arthur “ the look on his face alone made you clench around him, never wanting him to leave, needing to feel the heavy bruising sensation as he split you apart for the rest of your life. He hitched your leg higher, hitting some new devastating part inside of you that made you see stars. Eyes rolling to the back of your head and unable to contain the sounds escaping your throat any longer.

“ There she is, jus’ like that darlin I got ya” his grip on your leg grew restless, fingers dancing over your skin and trying to pull you as close to him as he could get you. He always wanted you close. Always wanted to feel your skin against his own. A moment later his thrusts became sloppier and you knew he wasn’t far off. Though quite frankly neither were you “ so pretty for me like this ain’t ya? My girl “ his words only pulled you closer to the edge, knot twisting tighter.

“ Arthur I- “

“ I know. I know darlin, can feel it “ he almost cooed, lifting a hand to cup your face gently “ that’s it look right at me. That’s a girl right at me “ with his gaze so intense you couldn’t hold it any longer, biting down on your lip as you attempted to conceal your sounds of ecstasy as you came over his cock.

He was barely a second behind you, a stuttered groan of a sound leaving him as he dropped his forehead against yours, painting your slick walls with rope after rope of come as you clenched around him. Holding him in place so that not a single drop of him would go to waste. It was a risky business letting him finish inside of you, truly it was. But in your sex drunk haze you didn’t care, couldn’t give a damn because it simply felt too good to give up.

He nudged his nose against yours, brushing his lips against your own and kissed you softly. So tender and gentle, his hand carefully lowering your leg back down, slipping his softening length out of you making you wince. He kissed the crinkles it caused to show at the corners of your eyes, whispering a gentle sorry. He soothed his hands over your waist with a care very few men had for women those days.

“ my girl “ he murmured, littering kisses across your cheeks and nose.

When he pulled back you couldn’t help but smile. The dopey, soft kind. He was looking far less put together than he had done when you’d arrived, the pomade in his hair no longer serving its purpose after your fingers had gotten to it. He’d broken a sweat too, his forehead shiny. His skin flushed.

The smugness was overwhelming though, could see it in his eyes. In the small smirk pulling at his lips. He seemed incredibly proud of himself.

“ you are somethin’ else “ he mumbled as he finished readjusting his clothes, reaching forward to slip the ruffled strap of your dress back up your shoulder from where it had slipped. Pressing a kiss to the skin there for good measure.

“ I ain’t the jealous one “ you teased as you combed your fingers through his hair in some attempt to tidy it.

“ ain’t jealous. No idea what you talkin about girl “ he said with a small clear of his throat in some attempt to hide the obvious lie, you simply smiled again and pressed a kiss to his cheek

“ mhm sure “

There was something about having to go back out into the party with the light ache between your legs, with the evidence of Arthur’s jealousy slowly dripping down your thighs. And Arthur seemed to think so too

“ now. I believe you wanted to dance? “

#Amy in the kindest possible way. keep scrolling #I know I’m posting late but I want i didn’t wanna wait until tomorrow sooo #ANYWAYS. FIRST ARTHUR UPLOAD WHOO #crippling fear or writing for a new character and fandom starts now!#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #rdr2 fanfic #Arthur Morgan smut #x you #Dutch van der linde #van der linde gang

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starbuck · 6 months ago

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this morning i was just living life as usual and now i have applied for one of my dream (seasonal) jobs and have mountain goats tickets so like. :))

#GOOD DAY!!!!!!!#work was also really fun - had some great conversations with my coworkers and got a lot of things in order #expect to accomplish a LOT tomorrow too!#and lots of social engagements #when will schoolwork get done? unclear.#but it WILL get done #and all will be well #pleased with myself for being SUCH a freak that i managed to apply before the job was advertised ANYWHERE #i caught it just a few hours after it was posted #i wanted to catch it almost immediately #but it’s probably best that i didn’t… i think it all worked out for the best #and VERY pleased about tmg tickets :))#nice of them to wait until i’ll be JUST recovered enough to go to come within reasonable driving distance #BUT before i start this new job (IF i get it) which would make me unavailable on weekends #perfect timing!!#anyway - all i need now is an interview date for this job and i’m SET #i’m still a little nervous but RELIEVED nervous instead of dread #which is MUCH preferred

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cloneboywonder · 1 year ago

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im so CWCcoded

#anyway my apologies for gaslighting you all about not personal diary posting bc my dad just texted me goodnight and it made me sad #him and my mom both tried to call me all day I feel bad when I ignore them #bc I know they’ll be dead someday and they won’t be able to call me and I won’t be able to answer #and my brothers both tried to call me I know my mom narced that I was weird yesterday and now everyones scrambling to keep track of me #it’s very nice of them but I really do hate being reminded that I’m the family member that like #they’ve all quietly agreed is always going to have to be monitored and taken care of #I wouldn’t be surprised if Andy and Alex haven’t talked about who I’m going to going to live by when our parents are both gone #it was kind of funny Andy invited me to like go install a security camera with him today #I said no but I do think it could’ve been a fun experince #I was gonna see my mom but she didn’t want to go out again so I waited around until my dad tried to call me again #so then be brought me with him to a hardware store where he tried (and failed) to return paint or something #we love a schemer #and then we picked up Andy and got milkshakes but I was ill so he got me real food on the way home #but I’m going to have to find a way to throw it out tomorrow bc I didn’t eat that much of it and I don’t want him to be sad about it #and I have to clean my room bc Lydia will be here soon #I was weepy in the car and my dad kept saying it’s nice you’ll get a few days with her before the concert #I know :-(#to some extent I love that he’s so incapable of handling emotional moods bc he just puts on songs and complains about them #bc he knows I like to complain and I think he gets scared when I don’t talk and that’s his attempt at getting me to #I need to finish my costume and make bracelets and clean my room these seem doable #okay bye please don’t unfollow me #also I love the name doxing bc these are for me and me only and maybe burke when he logs on I love you #my posts

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lloonlloon · 2 years ago

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I figured out how to add a dog to the lineup in agility gate which apparently none of the actually important club members knew how to do I am getting a good grade in agility trial worker

#something normal to want and possible to achieve #I have not sat down since I got out of my car at 7am until I got back on it at 4pm.#only one minor crisis in the ring I captained because the scribe got the judge’s hand signals mixed up #and a dog that got written in did not get a scribe sheet so there was like half an hour everyone was panicking #because the dog had ran but didn’t have sheet (because the scribe wrote it on someone else’s) but they both E’d so it worked out #wait I guess that is two crisis #it all worked out tho #so far better than last year’s regionals and I haven’t run yet #no idea how Essie will be tomorrow so I am not setting any expectations.#I would like to be able to have expectations and be competitive but we are just not there and it’ll just stress us out

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sweet-herba-mystica-archive · 2 years ago

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Thank fuck I didn’t get called back

#Holy shit man #i was so nervous #getting called back isn’t a bad or good thing. It just is. But I really didn’t want to do auditions again #Especially because I can feel a sore throat forming I have a feeling I will not be feeling very good tomorrow #I did not want to have to act and sing tomorrow so I’m glad I wasn’t called back #Nothing much to do now but kind of wait until they post what parts we’re gonna be in on friday

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lesbianlenas · 2 months ago

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me in a good mood for once. yay we did it!!!!!

#michelle speaks #very happy my friend asked me to hang out tomorrow she was the one who transferred so i didn’t think we would really see each other #so makes me happy that she wanted to see me……and we were texting for a bit i missed talking to her 😩#also the circle ep 4 going crazy lmaooo love it for me…..sad i will have to wait until wednesday for the next ep but WHATEVER! i had fun!#i have been so low & depressed bc starting classes is always hard for me & very draining but i am feeling better today 😊#prob will not last realistically but i will enjoy it for rn…..

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therealbeachfox · 9 months ago

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Twenty years ago, February 15th, 2004, I got married for the first time.

It was twenty years earlier than I ever expected to.

To celebrate/comemorate the date, I'm sitting down to write out everything I remember as I remember it. No checking all the pictures I took or all the times I've written about this before. I'm not going to turn to my husband (of twenty years, how the f'ing hell) to remember a detail for me.

This is not a 100% accurate recounting of that first wild weekend in San Francisco. But it -is- a 100% accurate recounting of how I remember it today, twenty years after the fact.

Join me below, if you would.

2004 was an election year, and much like conservatives are whipping up anti-trans hysteria and anti-trans bills and propositions to drive out the vote today, in 2004 it was all anti-gay stuff. Specifically, preventing the evil scourge of same-sex marriage from destroying everything good and decent in the world.

Enter Gavin Newstrom. At the time, he was the newly elected mayor of San Francisco. Despite living next door to the city all my life, I hadn’t even heard of the man until Valentines Day 2004 when he announced that gay marriage was legal in San Francisco and started marrying people at city hall.

It was a political stunt. It was very obviously a political stunt. That shit was illegal, after all. But it was a very sweet political stunt. I still remember the front page photo of two ancient women hugging each other forehead to forehead and crying happy tears.

But it was only going to last for as long as it took for the California legal system to come in and make them knock it off.

The next day, we’re on the phone with an acquaintance, and she casually mentions that she’s surprised the two of us aren’t up at San Francisco getting married with everyone else.

“Everyone else?” Goes I, “I thought they would’ve shut that down already?”

“Oh no!” goes she, “The courts aren’t open until Tuesday. Presidents Day on Monday and all. They’re doing them all weekend long!”

We didn’t know because social media wasn’t a thing yet. I only knew as much about it as I’d read on CNN, and most of the blogs I was following were more focused on what bullshit President George W Bush was up to that day.

"Well shit", me and my man go, "do you wanna?" I mean, it’s a political stunt, it wont really mean anything, but we’re not going to get another chance like this for at least 20 years. Why not?

The next day, Sunday, we get up early. We drive north to the southern-most BART station. We load onto Bay Area Rapid Transit, and rattle back and forth all the way to the San Francisco City Hall stop.

We had slightly miscalculated.

Apparently, demand for marriages was far outstripping the staff they had on hand to process them. Who knew. Everyone who’d gotten turned away Saturday had been given tickets with times to show up Sunday to get their marriages done. My babe and I, we could either wait to see if there was a space that opened up, or come back the next day, Monday.

“Isn’t City Hall closed on Monday?” I asked. “It’s a holiday”

“Oh sure,” they reply, “but people are allowed to volunteer their time to come in and work on stuff anyways. And we have a lot of people who want to volunteer their time to have the marriage licensing offices open tomorrow.”

“Oh cool,” we go, “Backup.”

“Make sure you’re here if you do,” they say, “because the California Supreme Court is back in session Tuesday, and will be reviewing the motion that got filed to shut us down.”

And all this shit is super not-legal, so they’ll totally be shutting us down goes unsaid.

00000

We don’t get in Saturday. We wind up hanging out most of the day, though.

It’s… incredible. I can say, without hyperbole, that I have never experienced so much concentrated joy and happiness and celebration of others’ joy and happiness in all my life before or since. My face literally ached from grinning. Every other minute, a new couple was coming out of City Hall, waving their paperwork to the crowd and cheering and leaping and skipping. Two glorious Latina women in full Mariachi band outfits came out, one in the arms of another. A pair of Jewish boys with their families and Rabbi. One couple managed to get a Just Married convertible arranged complete with tin-cans tied to the bumper to drive off in. More than once I was giving some rice to throw at whoever was coming out next.

At some point in the mid-afternoon, there was a sudden wave of extra cheering from the several hundred of us gathered at the steps, even though no one was coming out. There was a group going up the steps to head inside, with some generic black-haired shiny guy at the front. My not-yet-husband nudged me, “That’s Newsom.” He said, because he knew I was hopeless about matching names and people.

Ooooooh, I go. That explains it. Then I joined in the cheers. He waved and ducked inside.

So dusk is starting to fall. It’s February, so it’s only six or so, but it’s getting dark.

“Should we just try getting in line for tomorrow -now-?” we ask.

“Yeah, I’m afraid that’s not going to be possible.” One of the volunteers tells us. “We’re not allowed to have people hang out overnight like this unless there are facilities for them and security. We’d need Porta-Poties for a thousand people and police patrols and the whole lot, and no one had time to get all that organized. Your best bet is to get home, sleep, and then catch the first BART train up at 5am and keep your fingers crossed.

Monday is the last day to do this, after all.

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So we go home. We crash out early. We wake up at 4:00. We drive an hour to hit the BART station. We get the first train up. We arrive at City Hall at 6:30AM.

The line stretches around the entirety of San Francisco City Hall. You could toss a can of Coke from the end of the line to the people who’re up to be first through the doors and not have to worry about cracking it open after.

“Uh.” We go. “What the fuck is -this-?”

So.

Remember why they weren’t going to be able to have people hang out overnight?

Turns out, enough SF cops were willing to volunteer unpaid time to do patrols to cover security. And some anonymous person delivered over a dozen Porta-Poties that’d gotten dropped off around 8 the night before.

It’s 6:30 am, there are almost a thousand people in front of us in line to get this literal once in a lifetime marriage, the last chance we expect to have for at least 15 more years (it was 2004, gay rights were getting shoved back on every front. It was not looking good. We were just happy we lived in California were we at least weren’t likely to loose job protections any time soon.).

Then it starts to rain.

We had not dressed for rain.

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Here is how the next six hours go.

We’re in line. Once the doors open at 7am, it will creep forward at a slow crawl. It’s around 7 when someone shows up with garbage bags for everyone. Cut holes for the head and arms and you’ve got a makeshift raincoat! So you’ve got hundreds of gays and lesbians decked out in the nicest shit they could get on short notice wearing trashbags over it.

Everyone is so happy.

Everyone is so nervous/scared/frantic that we wont be able to get through the doors before they close for the day.

People online start making delivery orders.

Coffee and bagels are ordered in bulk and delivered to City Hall for whoever needs it. We get pizza. We get roses. Random people come by who just want to give hugs to people in line because they’re just so happy for us. The tour busses make detours to go past the lines. Chinese tourists lean out with their cameras and shout GOOD LUCK while car horns honk.

A single sad man holding a Bible tries to talk people out of doing this, tells us all we’re sinning and to please don’t. He gives up after an hour. A nun replaces him with a small sign about how this is against God’s will. She leaves after it disintegrates in the rain.

The day before, when it was sunny, there had been a lot of protestors. Including a large Muslim group with their signs about how “Not even DOGS do such things!” Which… Yes they do.

A lot of snide words are said (by me) about how the fact that we’re willing to come out in the rain to do this while they’re not willing to come out in the rain to protest it proves who actually gives an actual shit about the topic.

Time passes. I measure it based on which side of City Hall we’re on. The doors face East. We start on Northside. Coffee and trashbags are delivered when we’re on the North Side. Pizza first starts showing up when we’re on Westside, which is also where I see Bible Man and Nun. Roses are delivered on Southside. And so forth.

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We have Line Neighbors.

Ahead of us are a gay couple a decade or two older than us. They’ve been together for eight years. The older one is a school teacher. He has his coat collar up and turns away from any news cameras that come near while we reposition ourselves between the lenses and him. He’s worried about the parents of one of his students seeing him on the news and getting him fired. The younger one will step away to get interviewed on his own later on. They drove down for the weekend once they heard what was going on. They’d started around the same time we did, coming from the Northeast, and are parked in a nearby garage.

The most perky energetic joyful woman I’ve ever met shows up right after we turned the corner to Southside to tackle the younger of the two into a hug. She’s their local friend who’d just gotten their message about what they’re doing and she will NOT be missing this. She is -so- happy for them. Her friends cry on her shoulders at her unconditional joy.

Behind us are a lesbian couple who’d been up in San Francisco to celebrate their 12th anniversary together. “We met here Valentines Day weekend! We live down in San Diego, now, but we like to come up for the weekend because it’s our first love city.”

“Then they announced -this-,” the other one says, “and we can’t leave until we get married. I called work Sunday and told them I calling in sick until Wednesday.”

“I told them why,” her partner says, “I don’t care if they want to give me trouble for it. This is worth it. Fuck them.”

My husband-to-be and I look at each other. We’ve been together for not even two years at this point. Less than two years. Is it right for us to be here? We’re potentially taking a spot from another couple that’d been together longer, who needed it more, who deserved it more.”

“Don’t you fucking dare.” Says the 40-something gay couple in front of us.

“This is as much for you as it is for us!” says the lesbian couple who’ve been together for over a decade behind us.

“You kids are too cute together,” says the gay couple’s friend. “you -have- to. Someday -you’re- going to be the old gay couple that’s been together for years and years, and you deserve to have been married by then.”

We stay in line.

It’s while we’re on the Southside of City Hall, just about to turn the corner to Eastside at long last that we pick up our own companions. A white woman who reminds me an awful lot of my aunt with a four year old black boy riding on her shoulders. “Can we say we’re with you? His uncles are already inside and they’re not letting anyone in who isn’t with a couple right there.” “Of course!” we say.

The kid is so very confused about what all the big deal is, but there’s free pizza and the busses keep driving by and honking, so he’s having a great time.

We pass by a statue of Lincoln with ‘Marriage for All!’ and "Gay Rights are Human Rights!" flags tucked in the crooks of his arms and hanging off his hat.

It’s about noon, noon-thirty when we finally make it through the doors and out of the rain.

They’ve promised that anyone who’s inside when the doors shut will get married. We made it. We’re safe.

We still have a -long- way to go.

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They’re trying to fit as many people into City Hall as possible. Partially to get people out of the rain, mostly to get as many people indoors as possible. The line now stretches down into the basement and up side stairs and through hallways I’m not entirely sure the public should ever be given access to. We crawl along slowly but surely.

It’s after we’ve gone through the low-ceiling basement hallways past offices and storage and back up another set of staircases and are going through a back hallway of low-ranked functionary offices that someone comes along handing out the paperwork. “It’s an hour or so until you hit the office, but take the time to fill these out so you don’t have to do it there!”

We spend our time filling out the paperwork against walls, against backs, on stone floors, on books.

We enter one of the public areas, filled with displays and photos of City Hall Demonstrations of years past.

I take pictures of the big black and white photo of the Abraham Lincoln statue holding banners and signs against segregation and for civil rights.

The four year old boy we helped get inside runs past us around this time, chased by a blond haired girl about his own age, both perused by an exhausted looking teenager helplessly begging them to stop running.

Everyone is wet and exhausted and vibrating with anticipation and the building-wide aura of happiness that infuses everything.

The line goes into the marriage office. A dozen people are at the desk, shoulder to shoulder, far more than it was built to have working it at once.

A Sister of Perpetual Indulgence is directing people to city officials the moment they open up. She’s done up in her nun getup with all her makeup on and her beard is fluffed and be-glittered and on point. “Oh, I was here yesterday getting married myself, but today I’m acting as your guide. Number 4 sweeties, and -Congradulatiooooons!-“

The guy behind the counter has been there since six. It’s now 1:30. He’s still giddy with joy. He counts our money. He takes our paperwork, reviews it, stamps it, sends off the parts he needs to, and hands the rest back to us. “Alright, go to the Rotunda, they’ll direct you to someone who’ll do the ceremony. Then, if you want the certificate, they’ll direct you to -that- line.” “Can’t you just mail it to us?” “Normally, yeah, but the moment the courts shut us down, we’re not going to be allowed to.”

We take our paperwork and join the line to the Rotunda.

If you’ve seen James Bond: A View to a Kill, you’ve seen the San Francisco City Hall Rotunda. There are literally a dozen spots set up along the balconies that overlook the open area where marriage officials and witnesses are gathered and are just processing people through as fast as they can.

That’s for the people who didn’t bring their own wedding officials.

There’s a Catholic-adjacent couple there who seem to have brought their entire families -and- the priest on the main steps. They’re doing the whole damn thing. There’s at least one more Rabbi at work, I can’t remember what else. Just that there was a -lot-.

We get directed to the second story, northside. The San Francisco City Treasurer is one of our two witnesses. Our marriage officient is some other elected official I cannot remember for the life of me (and I'm only writing down what I can actively remember, so I can't turn to my husband next to me and ask, but he'll have remembered because that's what he does.)

I have a wilting lily flower tucked into my shirt pocket. My pants have water stains up to the knees. My hair is still wet from the rain, I am blubbering, and I can’t get the ring on my husband’s finger. The picture is a treat, I tell you.

There really isn’t a word for the mix of emotions I had at that time. Complete disbelief that this was reality and was happening. Relief that we’d made it. Awe at how many dozens of people had personally cheered for us along the way and the hundreds to thousands who’d cheered for us generally.

Then we're married.

Then we get in line to get our license.

It’s another hour. This time, the line goes through the higher stories. Then snakes around and goes past the doorway to the mayor’s office.

Mayor Newsom is not in today. And will be having trouble getting into his office on Tuesday because of the absolute barricade of letters and flowers and folded up notes and stuffed animals and City Hall maps with black marked “THANK YOU!”s that have been piled up against it.

We make it to the marriage records office.

I take a picture of my now husband standing in front of a case of the marriage records for 1902-1912. Numerous kids are curled up in corners sleeping. My own memory is spotty. I just know we got the papers, and then we’re done with lines. We get out, we head to the front entrance, and we walk out onto the City Hall steps.

It's almost 3PM.

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There are cheers, there’s rice thrown at us, there are hundreds of people celebrating us with unconditional love and joy and I had never before felt the goodness that exists in humanity to such an extent. It’s no longer raining, just a light sprinkle, but there are still no protestors. There’s barely even any news vans.

We make our way through the gauntlet, we get hands shaked, people with signs reading ”Congratulations!” jump up and down for us. We hit the sidewalks, and we begin to limp our way back to the BART station.

I’m at the BART station, we’re waiting for our train back south, and I’m sitting on the ground leaning against a pillar and in danger of falling asleep when a nondescript young man stops in front of me and shuffles his feet nervously. “Hey. I just- I saw you guys, down at City Hall, and I just… I’m so happy for you. I’m so proud of what you could do. I’m- I’m just really glad, glad you could get to do this.”

He shakes my hand, clasps it with both of his and shakes it. I thank him and he smiles and then hurries away as fast as he can without running.

Our train arrives and the trip south passes in a semilucid blur.

We get back to our car and climb in.

It’s 4:30 and we are starving.

There’s a Carls Jr near the station that we stop off at and have our first official meal as a married couple. We sit by the window and watch people walking past and pick out others who are returning from San Francisco. We're all easy to pick out, what with the combination of giddiness and water damage.

We get home about 6-7. We take the dog out for a good long walk after being left alone for two days in a row. We shower. We bundle ourselves up. We bury ourselves in blankets and curl up and just sort of sit adrift in the surrealness of what we’d just done.

We wake up the next day, Tuesday, to read that the California State Supreme Court has rejected the petition to shut down the San Francisco weddings because the paperwork had a misplaced comma that made the meaning of one phrase unclear.

The State Supreme Court would proceed to play similar bureaucratic tricks to drag the process out for nearly a full month before they have nothing left and finally shut down Mayor Newsom’s marriages.

My parents had been out of state at the time at a convention. They were flying into SFO about the same moment we were walking out of City Hall. I apologized to them later for not waiting and my mom all but shook me by the shoulders. “No! No one knew that they’d go on for so long! You did what you needed to do! I’ll just be there for the next one!”

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It was just a piece of paper. Legally, it didn’t even hold any weight thirty days later. My philosophy at the time was “marriage really isn’t that important, aside from the legal benefits. It’s just confirming what you already have.”

But maybe it’s just societal weight, or ingrained culture, or something, but it was different after. The way I described it at the time, and I’ve never really come up with a better metaphor is, “It’s like we were both holding onto each other in the middle of the ocean in the middle of a storm. We were keeping each other above water, we were each other’s support. But then we got this piece of paper. And it was like the ground rose up to meet our feet. We were still in an ocean, still in the middle of a storm, but there was a solid foundation beneath our feet. We still supported each other, but there was this other thing that was also keeping our heads above the water.

It was different. It was better. It made things more solid and real.

I am forever grateful for all the forces and all the people who came together to make it possible. It’s been twenty years and we’re still together and still married.

We did a domestic partnership a year later to get the legal paperwork. We’d done a private ceremony with proper rings (not just ones grabbed out of the husband’s collection hours before) before then. And in 2008, we did a legal marriage again.

Rushed. In a hurry. Because there was Proposition 13 to be voted on which would make them all illegal again if it passed.

It did, but we were already married at that point, and they couldn’t negate it that time.

Another few years after that, the Supreme Court finally threw up their hands and said "Fine! It's been legal in places and nothing's caught on fire or been devoured by locusts. It's legal everywhere. Shut up about it!"

And that was that.

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When I was in highschool, in the late 90s, I didn’t expect to see legal gay marriage until I was in my 50s. I just couldn’t see how the American public as it was would ever be okay with it.

I never expected to be getting married within five years. I never expected it to be legal nationwide before I’d barely started by 30s. I never thought I’d be in my 40s and it’d be such a non-issue that the conservative rabble rousers would’ve had to move onto other wedge issues altogether.

I never thought that I could introduce another man as my husband and absolutely no one involved would so much as blink.

I never thought I’d live in this world.

And it’s twenty years later today. I wonder how our line buddies are doing. Those babies who were running around the wide open rooms playing tag will have graduated college by now. The kids whose parents the one line-buddy was worried would see him are probably married too now. Some of them to others of the same gender.

I don’t have some greater message to make with all this. Other then, culture can shift suddenly in ways you can’t predict. For good or ill. Mainly this is just me remembering the craziest fucking 36 hours of my life twenty years after the fact and sharing them with all of you.

The future we’re resigned to doesn’t have to be the one we live in. Society can shift faster than you think. The unimaginable of twenty years ago is the baseline reality of today.

And always remember that the people who want to get married will show up by the thousands in rain that none of those who’re against it will brave.

#gay marriage #gay rights #gay history #gay

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