#does anyone care where javier fits in here

[javierduffy]

in my head, kieran survived the o’driscoll kidnapping, but by the time he’d got back to shady belle after someone found him bleeding out in the street and took him to the doctor, the gang was gone, and he took the opportunity to escape the gang lifestyle, running off to strawberry and beginning work with the timber folks

years later, you can find him at pronghorn ranch in epilogue 1, lovingly tending to the horses in the barn when you go to scoop the manure, and he’s made an honest living for himself. and the o’driscolls are gone because sadie killed then all and he is finally safe and happy is anyone listening can anyone hear me

[forabeatofadrum]

Ever After (11/21)

Notes: Since there's an uneven amount of chapters, I cannot do the usual 'Start me up, we're halfway there/Oh-oh, livin' on a prayer!' notes. Booo. But luckily this word fit perfectly.

AO3 | S&C

–

NOTE

After hours of travel, Kurt and Blaine arrive at the most northern town of Daltonia. They’re close to the border with Stantonius.

“We can’t go any further, unless you believe the books might be hidden in another kingdom,” Blaine says.

“We can’t rule it out, but the books all take place in Daltonia, so I expect them to be here.”

Blaine agrees.

He parks their carriage in a secluded area and the two of them go into the town. It’s bigger than the previous one, and Kurt looks around in amazement.

“Enjoying your time?” Blaine asks.

Kurt nods eagerly.

“I said it before and I’ll say it again, a part of me loves being here!” he sounds exuberant, “I wish it had been under different circumstances, but I am in Daltonia. I have eaten real fondlate!”

He’s already eaten a bunch of it. Blaine bought some for on the road.

“Maybe I can give you a care package, for when you go back to your own world?” Blaine suggests.

“That might be possible. My stuff got transferred to Daltonia as well, although I lost my bag during my time in the liar.”

And the weird clothes he wore are at the castle. They were made of interesting fabrics, so hopefully the royal laundry workers and tailors can fix them up.

Blaine tells Kurt that.

“They better. It was Marc Jacobs!”

“Then we must fix it, or else Marc will get mad.”

Kurt snorts.

“Sure. I’ll let Marc know once I am home.”

They actually pass a tailor and Kurt decides to have a look. Meanwhile, Blaine asks around if anyone’s knows about the mystical cave. No one seems to have seen anything. No one also seems to recognise Blaine, and he’s glad, especially when some people start to gush about Cooper’s current quest about the nearby cave.

That’s the cave he and Kurt are looking for, after all!

“Have you recently seen my, uh, Cooper?” Blaine fumbles over his words, but saying ‘my brother’ would definitely give it away. Luckily, a lot of Daltonials seem to see Cooper as ‘theirs’, so it works.

Maybe Cooper can help him and Kurt after all.

“Cooper and his lovely wife actually stopped by. It was an honour!”

“And?”

“Unfortunately, he has gone back to Castle Town. Arasha is still somewhere in the north.”

“She is?”

Can Arasha help them by herself? She presumably went to visit this cave with Cooper.

She’s also very capable and maybe her knowledge can give them more insight. The Oriental kingdom has its own legends and folktales. How do orientals think about other worlds?

But why is Arasha here on her own?

Blaine asks around some more and someone mentions that Arasha was last seen in the wheatfields just west outside town.

“Ready?” Kurt’s voice rings from behind.

“Yes,” Blaine says and he thanks the other person for the information.

Kurt wants to buy a satchel at the tailor’s shop so that he can carry the books with him, if they find them. (Or better yet, Kurt wants Blaine to buy it for him, since Blaine’s the one with the credits.)

Kurt would prefer to keep the books close to him, since they presumably are his ticket home, and Blaine is still a bit too uncomfortable to carry them himself.

They stop at the carriage to retrieve the first book and then they’re off to the wheatfields. Kurt is ecstatic.

“I am meeting Arasha Pandaman. The Arasha Pandaman.”

“Didn’t she already visit you in the infirmary with Cooper?”

“Yes, but back then I didn’t realise it was the actual Arasha and Cooper. Where did Mel and Javier go?”

“I… don’t know. I can send a bird to my friend Wes. He might know.”

“Are the members of the Chronicles Club still friends?”

“Probably,” Blaine answers truthfully. He does see Mel and Javier visit Cooper when Cooper’s at home. And sometimes they still join him on quests. Same goes for Eileen and Mo.

Kurt looks relieved to hear so. He must really care about Cooper and his posse.

They find the wheatfields and a good thing about the fields is that everything is on ground level, so Arasha walking around is noticeable. She towers over the wheat.

“Arasha!” Blaine calls out.

She must’ve recognised his voice, because she immediately turns around.

“Blaine?” she yells back, and she runs towards them.

“Arasha! Good to see you!” Kurt says once she’s in earshot. Arasha looks at Kurt and she recognises him.

“Hold on, you’re the lunatic from the infirmary. Good to see you’re well!” she says warmly, but obviously, Kurt looks very jarred at the ‘lunatic’ part. Blaine did tell him that his parents were considering locking him up, but it must still be weird to hear it.

“Thank you?” he says.

“Arasha, Kurt and I are looking for the mystical cave that you and Cooper are looking into. Can you take us there?”

“What for?” Arasha asks, which is fair.

“We’re trying to find a way for me to go home,” Kurt answers and Blaine’s head jerks towards him. He didn’t expect Kurt to answer truthfully. “We have reasons to believe that we can find something in that cave.”

“Like?” Arasha prompts.

“A book or two,” is all that Kurt says.

“Cooper and I haven’t found a book, or two, and we’ve been researching that cave for days now,” Arasha says with an apologetic smile.

Blaine sighs and Kurt’s shoulders drop. Of course, if there were something to be found, then Cooper and Arasha should’ve found it indeed.

“But,” Arasha adds, and both Kurt and Blaine perk up, “Are you perhaps mister Hummel?”

“Yes,” Kurt says, sounding flabbergasted, “Yes, that is me.”

“Cooper and I found a note in the cave, addressed to mister Hummel. Cooper’s gone back to Castle Town to deliver the note to his parents, since we didn’t know what it meant, but it was odd.”

“Why didn’t he copy it to digital paper and send it by bird?” Blaine wonders.

Arasha’s face falls.

“I… don’t know,” she says, but Blaine thinks she does. It might have something to do with the fact that Cooper went home on his own, and Arasha is walking aimlessly through wheatfields in the other part of the kingdom.

But that’s between them.

Kurt lets out a long sigh.

“So we need to go back to Castle Town, really?”

They’ve come so far!

Arasha sees how disappointed and defeated they are.

“This is really important to you, isn’t it?”

“Of course, Arasha!” Kurt says.

“What if I tell you that Cooper did copy it to digital paper and gave that copy to me as a back-up?” Arasha says with a grin. She reaches for something in her skirt pocket and indeed it’s a note on digital paper. She hands it to Kurt.

“I knew it!” Kurt exclaims, “You are always the one with the back-up. This is why your pockets are bigger on the inside!”

“How do you…” Arasha looks taken aback. Her bigger pockets must be a secret. Cooper must’ve used his magic to alter the clothes, because from the outside it indeed looks like a regular skirt.

“Never mind that,” Blaine quickly says, “Thank you, Arasha!”

“But…” Arasha trails off again. Then she shakes her head and asks Kurt if any of the words on the note make sense to him. Blaine stands next to Kurt to read along.

Dear mister Hummel,

Well-done again! Do you like this cave?

“Not really,” Kurt jokes, “Too much wheat for my liking.”

I have hidden the next two books in a special trap door. Take them with you and go west. Number 4 and 5 will be found there. In order to access the books, you need to enter a code using magic. Good thing you have a Royal by your side.

“How does he know that?” Blaine ponders out loud.

The number is the year of the Declaration of Independence. I thought that was fitting, since you’re from New York an all that. AMURICAH! You’re doing great!

Greetings,

Sergeant Gorgeous (sounds better, right?)

--

End notes: Please know I love the fact that Arasha's last name is Pandaman (Panda Man). Oh B.D. Dalton, what do you have to say for yourself?

[amorgansgal]

In modern au, what do you see the rdr2 characters as?

Ok, hc time!

Dutch - I still think he'd be into some dirty deals and a less than honest life, but maybe owning a fancy club or casino would be more of his style. Not too sleazy, but you know there's something going on behind the scenes!

Hosea - For whatever reason the first thing that popped into my head was he would own a cafe/bookshop. Like it's a really cool, chilled place and he doesn't mind if you do pick up a book to read while you're having your latte. Makes the best bagels.

Arthur - I'm going to say in his early years definitely a trucker, then when he gets a bit older he starts working with an animal charity (he can still drive around, he gets to pet lots of dogs and he doesn't have to talk to people too much).

Rest of the gang are below:

John - I think mechanic best fits John. I think he likes working with his hands and appreciates cars more than people.

Javier - I see him doing the same job as John, but maybe he's still attemping to be a musician, so regularly plays in a band during the evening. Was in a band with Sean and Lenny, but gave up on it.

Bill - Unemployed. Think he would drift between roles a lot, maybe a bouncer, maybe in the military, but nothing really sticks. Just picks up odd jobs here and there.

Charles - 100% would be a park ranger. If he gets to stay out in a cabin while in the woods so much the better. Hosea gives him a supply of bagels while he's away from society. Arthur sometimes meets up with him to chat, fish and chill.

Sean - Tells everyone he's an up-and-coming comedian. He isn't that great, mostly just laughs at his own jokes, but his friends still go and see him perform. Otherwise, Sean works in the same bar/pub venue where he performs.

Lenny - He's the smart boy! So I think he would be earning his degree to become a Human Rights Lawyer. For the time being he also works at the same pub/bar as Sean and provides tutoring to kids.

Sadie - Oh you bet she's a trainer at the local gym, specialising in classes like self-defense and kickboxing. She has whipped pretty much everyone's butt in town... except Abigail's, who is her best student.

Karen - I think Karen would be a receptionist, maybe in a hotel or a salon. But she doesn’t particularly care for it or is bothered by what job she does, as long as she earns a decent amount of money. I think she would work at Dutch’s place part time in the evenings, either serving drinks or as a card dealer.

Tilly - I think she would make an ace counsellor or therapist, like she’s patient, listens well and doesn’t pass judgement. She would make suggestions or provide guidance, but you always feel you’ve reached that decision yourself, rather than her pushing you that way.

Mary-Beth - Well, if it’s not our own little writer! I think she would be keen on earning her living as a writer, but as I’m sure we all know it’s a tough business to get into. She is working on a novel, a romantic western, and has got some articles published in local newspapers and online magazines. But she mostly makes her living as a customer service administrator for a local animal charity. It’s a nice place to work and she gets to gaze dreamily at Arthur while he’s there.

Abigail - I think previously she would have worked as a dancer/waitress at Dutch’s place. But once she had Jack, she began her career to become a Paediatric nurse, after she was cared for so well by a midwife. Bedside manner could be worked on, but she’s incredibly smart and quick at picking things up.

Susan - Works at Dutch’s place as the club’s manager. Doesn’t take shit from anyone there, be they clients, wait staff or performers. That place runs like clockwork.

[pascalpanic]

Blood, Sweat, and Tears (Javier Peña x f!Reader)- Chapter Four

Summary: You feel like shit and decide to work out the bug. Javier is not going to let that happen.

W/C: 2.5k

Warnings: language, mentions of illness (just a common cold), cavity-inducing fluff

A/N: Hi this is like, toothache-inducing fluff. Super cute idea from @softly-sad inspired this whole chapter! And BIG shoutout to @remmysbounty for being my sounding board/Colombian culture expert/brainstorming buddy!

previous chapter | next chapter

You’re a nurse; your immune system is hardy. The first year or so of working in hospitals led you to constantly feel ill, plagued by some bug or virus, but you powered through with help from your fellow nurses. It was to be expected, working in an environment surrounded by people, specifically ill ones.

That being said, you had caught a bug of some kind. It wasn’t too bad, not enough to disqualify you from work. It was simply a scratch in your throat, a throbbing temple that came and went, a few other mild symptoms and an inability to sleep.

This brief insomnia was what found you awake at 1:28 in the morning, joints aching. You’re hydrated, well-fed, and had even snuck a nap in during your break at work today. Everything should be fine, but your body aches, and you roll over in your bed with a groan. Sleep isn’t coming, isn’t anywhere near possible. You crack your neck as you sit up and decide the best course of action is to work out the aches. 

You sigh and get out of bed, changing out of your pajamas and into your workout clothes. Your mind wanders a little, wondering if you’ll catch Peña at this hour. It seems unlikely, but then again, the probability of anyone being at the gym at this hour is always low.

It’s a bit chilly in the air of the night, and you sigh as you walk out into the fresh air. You make your way to the gym, secretly hoping that you don’t run into Javier tonight. You’ll be the first to admit you look like shit, and you’re not going to be working out as hard as normal.

Luck isn’t on your side tonight, you sigh, as you enter the fitness center and find Javier running on the treadmill. He’s already quite into it, sweating and panting from the running. He turns as the door creaks open and stops the machine, smiling a little. It falls when he notices the dark rings around your eyes. “Hey.”

“Hi,” you say shyly, turning away from him to put your things in a locker. The twinge returns to your temple and you try your best not to groan at the annoying headache.

Javier turns off the treadmill and turns to look at your back. “I’ll just say it. You look like shit. Is something wrong?” he asks, crossing his arms, genuinely concerned.

“I feel like shit too,” you chuckle, running a hand over your ponytail.

His brow furrows as he looks at you. “Rough shift? I thought you said-”

You nod and cut him off. “I only work days for the next two weeks, yeah,” you say, turning to face him. “I’ve got some kind of bug or something. I feel like shit and I can’t sleep. I figured I’d come to the gym and try to work out if I was going to be awake, but…” you shrug and take a swig from your water bottle.

Javier shakes his head. “If you’re feeling like shit, working out isn’t going to be the answer.” He steps off the treadmill and wipes his face with the hem of his t-shirt, exposing unexpectedly strong abs that make you raise your eyebrows before quickly looking away. He walks over to the area by you, grabbing his bag. “If neither of us can sleep, why don’t we go get breakfast?” he offers, positioning himself so that you don’t have to move to see him. “There’s a little 24-hour place around here. I’ll buy, we’ll get you some hot coffee and food.”

You bite your lip, thinking you probably shouldn’t. “I came here to work out,” you say, a weak protest.

“That’s pointless if you’re feeling like shit,” Javier points out, and you nod.

“I guess that’s true.” You say and cross your arms.

Javier gives you a soft, gentle smile. “You’re a nurse. You know it’s true. Come on,” he tells you, and you finally crack a small smile too. Javier’s widens at that. “Alright hermosa, come on,” he tells you as he grabs his bag. “I drove here tonight. We’ll take my car?” he asks.

The thought of seeing the kind of car the man drives makes you smile a little wider. You hold back a giggle at the nickname, your heart fluttering helplessly in your chest. “As long as you’ll drive me home too,” you nod, and Javier nods back. 

You walk out to his car alongside him, where you discover he drives a beat-up wagon. You chuckle a little and get into the passenger side. It smells of cigarette smoke, which you find no surprise. There’s some kind of air freshener, at least, that masks the distinct smell but doesn’t hide it completely. Javier tosses his bag in the back and sits in the drivers’ seat. 

The drive to the restaurant is filled with a comfortable silence, the radio playing quietly. You relax in the seat of his car, his presence soothing. It’s a bit chilly, and you unintentionally shiver. Javier’s obviously still warm from working out and he notices the fact that you’re cold. “The heater’s busted,” he admits with an apologetic smile. “Here.” He reaches into the back and grabs a leather jacket, placing it on your lap. “Use my jacket.” 

The gesture makes you melt a little, and you nod, sliding it over your shoulders. It’s big on you, but it’s warm and comfortable and has a distinctive smell that you’re sure is Javier’s. There’s cologne and cigarette smoke and exhaust from the shitty car, and you smile as you snuggle into it. “Thank you,” you tell him as you look over at him, your heart completely in your eyes and unable to hide it.

He looks back at you and his stony face cracks into a smile. “No problem.”

A few minutes later, the car parks outside a small restaurant, dimly lit but clearly open. As you get out of the car and open the door to the restaurant, the smell of coffee wafts your way and soothes you as you breathe it in. Javier walks in behind you and a short and plump waitress calls his name excitedly. “Javi! How are you, mijo?” She asks, already bringing two mugs of coffee as she notices the two of you. “And who is this?” She asks again, handing you a mug.

Javier leads you to the small booth nearby and the two of you sit. He introduces you and you give a little wave, sipping your coffee and sighing at the warm liquid. The waitress chats with him, and you smile to yourself as you watch the two of them interact. He’s just as charming with her as he is with you, and it makes you chuckle. He orders something for the two of you (you don’t catch exactly what), and you lean against the cool leather of the booth, smiling at him as the waitress leaves to put in the order. “What?” he asks, cracking a small smile at the way you look at him.

You snuggle into his jacket and shrug. “You’re quite the charmer,” you tease, bringing the coffee to your lips to hide the growing smile. “What did you order us?”

“Sweet arepas,” he tells you, and you nod happily as you set it down. 

“Sounds wonderful,” you nod and set it down. “How was your day?” you ask, the quiet atmosphere of the small restaurant making your voice quieter and gentler. You’ve never asked him something like that, but he’s been tense all night. Well, what you assumed was tense- you didn’t know him extremely well. 

“Shitty,” he shakes his head as he admits it, sipping his own coffee before finishing his response. “We can’t find shit on Escobar or any of his men. It’s like they’re fucking ghosts or something: we can always see them and never catch them.”

You nod and listen, his quiet voice and the coffee soothing you. His voice is beautiful, you notice, and it’s just what you needed on a night like tonight. “That sounds hard,” you nod in agreement, your eyes showing your compassion.

Javier has come to love looking into your eyes. They always give away your thoughts and emotions. The way you look at him melts his heart. He has Steve and Connie and whatever prostitute he’s with, but they always already know the story or don’t care. You do. “It’s tough, yeah,” he says before he looks down at his coffee, the image of you bundled in his leather jacket threatening to make him smile. 

The arepas come not long after, and you sigh as you bite into the cinnamon-sugar dusted cornmeal cakes. Javier chuckles and smiles as he hears the noise. You notice the way his smile looks like it doesn’t come often, but it comes in full force when it does. It crinkles the edges of his eyes, leaves lines around his mouth, and makes him look like everything you want and more. He bites into one and it leaves the fine powder on his mustache. You snort and nearly spit out your coffee as you notice it.

“What?”

“Nothing,” you say quickly, hiding your face behind your mug. “Just got a little… something,” you say, gesturing to your face, to where his mustache would be. He brushes it and frowns as he notices the sugar falling out, and you giggle harder.

“Don’t laugh at me,” Javier says, amusement and teasing in his tone.

“Don’t make yourself so easy to laugh at,” you say with a quirked eyebrow, taking another bite of your arepa.

Javier shakes his head, that familiar small smile on his face: the one he always cracks around you no matter how hard he tries to hold back. He really does like you, he realizes in that moment, as he looks at you: happily chewing your food and wrapped in his leather jacket and probably getting powdered sugar and cinnamon on it but he can’t even bring himself to care because your big eyes are on his face and it makes him warm inside even if he’ll never admit it because goddamn would Steve tease him for the rest of eternity but he thinks he might be falling, and it makes that smile grow into a real one he can’t hold back.

He takes a sip of his coffee and forces himself to be the regular Javier, the flirty one who doesn’t let things mean something to him because he knows it’ll be gone soon anyway. “Sometimes I can’t believe you’re a nurse. Are you so mean and sarcastic to your patients?”

“Come by sometime and find out,” you tease. “Actually, don’t. That would mean you’d need a reason to be in the hospital.”

-

The rest of the night passes easily. You and Javier spend hours in that diner booth, drinking coffee and mindlessly munching on the arepas, which the kind waitress brings out several plates of throughout the night. She tells you that Javier doesn’t eat enough, and you believe it, and you watch as the plate slowly becomes empty every time, most of them going into Javier’s mouth and leaving more sugar on that mustache. You converse and tease and flirt and bare your life stories to each other, neither of you ever taking your eyes from the other’s face except for when the woman- Valeria, she tells you- brings more coffee and more food.

Javier looks at his watch for the first time that night, finding that it’s now 5:30 in the morning. “Shit. We’d better get you home, you need to work, don’t you?” “Don’t you too?” you ask in return, tilting your head and pulling the coat closer around yourself.

“Yeah, but that’s less important.” He leaves a Colombian bill on the table for payment and tip for Valeria, then stands, adjusting his clothing. “Come on, I’ll drive you home.”

You nod and stand, following Javier out to his car, parked on the street in front of the diner. Valeria calls out a goodbye to the both of and you wave, a soft smile on your face. There were kind people everywhere you went, you found, even in a place with so much trouble and violence. 

The sky is beginning to change colors as the sunrise approaches. The dark blue of the sky lightens near the horizon, and a bit of pastel orange tinges just where the outline of the city meets it. It’s beautiful, really. You watch the sky as Javier drives you home, as it slowly changes and a bit of the sun is starting to show.

Javier parks in front of your apartment, which you directed him to, and kills the engine. You look at him, confused. “I’ll walk you inside,” he says as if it’s obvious.

As you get out of the car, Javier follows and you shake your head. “No, it’s fine Javi,” you protest, but he walks to you and puts a hand on your arm. 

“I want you to be safe, and you know I carry a gun.”

“It’s 5:30 A.M. on a Tuesday, and you’re wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt,” you laugh, raising your eyebrow. He hasn’t touched you since you first shook hands when you met. His hand is large and strong and you can practically feel the warmth through the thick leather of his coat. “Oh, shit, sorry,” you say and start to shrug out of the coat, but he stops you, one hand on each arm. 

He shakes his head. “Keep it with you,” he says.

It’s a soft moment, the sun coming up in the eastern sky, Javier’s hands holding you through his coat, the one he gifted you when you were cold. You’re both silent for a moment, and Javier can’t help himself. He presses a soft kiss to your head, where your hairline and your forehead meet, murmuring your name into your skin. He’s so close to you, and you can smell his cologne and his sweat and his deodorant and cigarettes and coffee and it’s all so uniquely Javi that your breath stops for a moment before you throw your arms around his torso, hugging him. “Thank you,” you breathe into his chest, and you can feel him hum a soft noise that conveys ‘it’s no problem’, his arms wrapping back around you.

You both break away a moment later and you look up at him, a soft smile gracing your face and an equal one on his. “My hero,” you chuckle softly and press a brief kiss to his cheek. Javi chuckles softly at that, the warmth radiating from him tempting you to do more, but you stop yourself. You don’t want to give him your bug. “Thank you for tonight. It was much needed,” you tell him, pulling his leather jacket tight around yourself.

“I needed it too,” he nods. “Go inside. I’ll see you,” he says, his hands resting where his belt loops would be on his jeans. You can tell that’s a pose he strikes often.

“See you,” you nod and turn, heading into your apartment building. As you open the door, you turn, and Javier gives a little two fingered salute to you before getting back into his car.

taglist:

@wonderlandgabby​ @diogodxlot​

[ezrasarm]

Pedro Boys + Pets

Warnings: None

A/N: That’s right! More collaborative HCs between @chaotic-noceur, @din-damn-djarin and myself because apparently, we have many ideas and very little self-control. Enjoy!

Din Djarin

Accidentally grazed a loth cat with a blaster shot

Now Yodito is desperately trying to heal it

Yodito won’t let him leave until he adopts the damn thing

So now he is an accidental parent to two defenceless(ish) creatures

He refers to it as a ‘nuisance’ because that’s what it is to him

Eventually, this dumbass loth cat starts answering to ‘nuisance’, as its name

“This… is not what I intended… at all”

It also answers to Yodito’s very specific shriek

He found Yodito asleep on ‘nuisance’ once

No, his heart did not melt right then and there

After particularly difficult hunts, he cuddles up with Nuisance on his lap in the captain’s seat, scratching the sweet spot behind its ear

He refuses to admit that it soothes him

You see right through him

You know he would kill for that ball of fluff 

He comes back from a rough hunt to find Nuisance and Yodito both curled up in your lap once

That was the first time he’d felt at home in a long time

Home. With you. And yodito. And this stupid loth cat

Ezra

We don’t know how we don’t know when but somehow he has a mangy old arthritic cat that has seemed ancient since the day it was born.

Its name is Trash- originally short for Patricia but that name has long since been forgotten.

The cat’s almost as much of a grump as he is 

But he turns into such a giant softy around it no matter how many times it has literally bitten the hand that feeds it.

He has long rambling one-sided conversations with it when he’s alone and it has this raspy squawk-like meow that it responds to him with.

“You’re not one who’s much for words, are you? I can appreciate that.”

...

“Who was it that said ‘Blessed is the man who, having nothing to say, abstains from giving us wordy evidence of the fact’?”

...

“You don’t have a clue what I’m talking about do you?”

…

“Come here, you idiot.” *picks up cat*

He swears it’s psychic

When he’s having a bad day it curls up next to him and purrs like a motor until all of his problems go away

She’s a total one person cat though

Does not tolerate shit from anyone but Ezra 

Occasionally though, every once in awhile, she might just grace you with a gentle nudge of her head before she hunkers down in your lap and drifts off to sleep

Recently she’s taken to curling up on your face when you’ve fallen asleep cuddling Ezra

Ezra says it's cute but you swear she’s trying to suffocate you

Frankie Morales

A total dog person if you’ve ever seen one. 

Small dogs give him the heebie-jeebies 

“If it can fit in your purse that’s not a dog! It’s some kind of mutant cat.”

Grew up in the countryside where having a dog was practically a prerequisite 

Can’t get used to not having a dog running around the house

Accidentally adopts an old mutt because he can’t resist it 

Surprises the hell out of you when you get home from work

You can’t tell if you’re more convinced to keep it by its puppy dog eyes or his

A/N: We got halfway through HC-ing this before we realized you could just read the actual fic that kicked all of this off instead 😂

Javier Peña

Thinks a house cactus counts as a pet

“I feed it. I water it. I take care of it. It meets all the criteria for a pet”

“You didn’t even name it!”

*glances over at bookshelf* “Federico Garcia Lorca. There I named it.”

“...it looks like a Stanley”

*glaring* “I am not calling him that.”

You don’t even trust him so much as to “take care of it” as he says he does.

“You watered it once. A month ago.”

“It’s a cactus! What do you want me to do? Drown him?!”

“Javi, you cannot water a plant with WHISKEY”

God help you two if you ever have a child

His new method of watering is now to leave the ice cube left from his drink in the pot to melt whenever he remembers 

You can’t decide if you’re impressed by this stroke of genius or disappointed that you didn’t come up with it first

One time you even got home to find him reading over a particularly gruelling case file with the small house plant. 

“Were you just talking to Stanley?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I was talking to Federico Gar- no one.”

A/N: Naturally, us being us- more specifically, @chaotic-noceur being @chaotic-noceur, Stanley sparked his own drabble which you can read here

Marcus Pike

Says he’s a dog person but is actually a cat person.

Doesn’t plan on getting a pet

But these stray cats keep showing up at his door

He made the fatal error of feeding them once and now they won’t leave him alone

They sleep outside on the doormat

But when it rains or gets cold out he ends up feeling sorry for them and lets them come inside

Now he’s accidentally adopted 5 cats

Each of them named after famous artists

Finds a chicken literally trying to cross the road one day on his way home from work

Swore it was going to get hit by a car so he brought it home too

Its name is now Picasso

The cats love their new sibling already 

...That or they want to eat it. He can’t quite tell yet.

Michelangelo seems to have taken on the ‘mother hen’ role though so he’s not overly concerned

“You can’t keep that here!”

“Why not? People keep chickens all the time!”

“Marcus, this is getting out of hand!”

You wind up taking it to your uncle’s farm where you promise Marcus he can visit it whenever he wants.

You guys (and the 5 cats) take a road trip every other weekend now

Oberyn Martell

Got himself a red snake

Takes it everywhere with him

It's not uncommon to see him sitting in a meeting with this snake casually draped over his shoulders

It doesn't seem to mind at all

Let's his youngest name the snake and now all his daughters want to name the pets they don't have

He finally caves when they start naming furniture

They all get their own pets and the castle is starting to resemble an animal sanctuary

His second youngest wanted a tarantula so that's what she got

Oberyn doesn't mind, he finds the little creature quite fascinating

The castle staff though? Not so much

Agent Whiskey 

Low key high key wants a pet pig

Can’t have one because he lives in an apartment and the landlord said no

Settles for a giant bullmastiff to spite him because nothing in the guidelines says he can’t have a dog

It’s called Dolly Parton or just Dolly for short

The vet insists he needs to find a way to get her to exercise because she’s overweight 

But in truth when he’s off work he’s just as lazy as her so they both wind up sprawled across the couch watching movies all day instead

“You’re here for a good time, not a long time.” He insists

She thinks she’s a lap dog and winds up crushing him every time she sits down

He doesn’t have the heart to get her to move so he just suffocates for a while instead 

Probably ends up with a ranch once he’s retired from Statesmen

And he finally gets that pig

[forever-rogue]

A Good Man - Part 2

A/N: Part 2!! I hope you're all excited! Thank you guys for your support on the first part. And don't worry, the ugh....smut is coming soon! Thank you to @rosetophighlander​ for helping me brainstorm this part! As always, comments and feedback is welcome, and if you’d like to be tagged let me know! xx

Pairing: Professor! Javi x Reader

Word Count: 6.8k

Warnings: mild language...yearning....

A GOOD MAN ‘VERSE MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST

JAVIER MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Fuck,” murmuring under your breath, you scratched your well loved pen roughly over the paper, willing for more ink to come out. But it was fully used; it had been growing fainter and fainter for some time, and now, mid-lecture, it had decided to be done.

Glancing up from your notes, you chanced a peek at the professor, catching his eye as you did so. Of course. There seemed to be a mildly amused expression on his face as you chucked the pen inside your bag with a huff and searched for another, managing to dig one up after a few minutes of silent struggle. 

The professor seemed to realize what was happening and appeared to slow down his lecture as you tried to catch up, almost as if he was attempting to ensure that you wouldn’t miss anything. No one else around you even seemed to be alive, starting down at their books with glazed expressions; one of the students across the room was even shamelessly sleeping. Groaning internally at them, you felt bad for him. It dense enough material to teach, and having people be this disinterested probably only made it more difficult. That just made your resolve to work even stronger. 

Uncapping the new pen, you set it back on the page and offered your full attention back to the man at the front, keeping your eyes trained mainly on the chalkboard. It was hard not to allow your eyes to flit over his body, the tight white button up, the fitted navy trousers, and those damned glasses were enough to drive you slowly insane. When he turned his back to the class, you couldn’t help but to admire the view...but luckily you always managed to catch yourself and keep up with his lecture. But you didn’t catch on how Javier always seemed to notice all the little things, including how your eyes lingered on him. You also didn’t seem to catch on how his own honeyed gaze was usually focused on you, the sole person he seemed to be teaching. 

But this class was different - just before Javier excused the lot of you, he decided to assign your midterm papers. This time you didn’t groan internally, but let out a little sigh as he explained his requirements, all of which you scribbled quickly down in your notes. It was such a simple task but you just knew it would be difficult, and would end up phasing you someway or another. Just as he finished and dismissed everyone, the students around you seemed to practically sprint for the door and you were left behind in the dust. 

Clearing your throat awkwardly, you grabbed your things and tucked them inside your bag, the realization that you were the only one left in the room hitting like you a ton of bricks. The temperature seemed to increase insurmountably as you left your desk and headed for the door. Javier’s gaze followed your frame for a moment and just before you ducked into the buzzing hallway filled with students heading off to their next class, you turned to him. His expression was unreadable, filled with a mixture of emotions that you couldn’t quite place. Instead of saying anything, you felt your cheeks heat up and stepped out of the classroom, allowing yourself to get lost in the sea of people.

»»————-　♡　————-««

"Professor Peña?"

"If you're looking for stories or secrets or whatever bullshit for your little newspaper, I'm not interested," Javi didn't even bother to look up from his desk, eyes dark and focused on the mountains of papers in front of him. When he didn't hear the sound of retreating footsteps or the squeak of the ancient door, he groaned lightly, "I said I wasn't interested in indulging your little inquiries."

"I-I'm not here for that," your voice sounded small, quiet and almost pathetic in the darkened office. The sun had almost completely set and Javier had yet to turn on the lights, depending only on his small desk lamp. He almost gave himself whiplash as he turned to look in your direction, eyes widening when he realized it was you, "I'm sorry to bother you, professor. I-I can go."

He let out a long sigh, took off his glasses, and ran a hand over his face in exhaustion as he shook his head and pointed at the chair in front of his desk. Swallowing the nervous lump in your throat, you padded over, almost completely silent, before slipping into the aging leather chair, "It’s... I shouldn't have yelled like that."

"I can go...if this is a bad time,” you couldn’t bring yourself to meet his eyes as you trained your gaze on the worn, wooden grain of his desk, “I know it’s almost the end of your office hours and I don’t want to impose.”

When you were met with silence, and unable to keep your knee from bouncing up and down, you almost jumped up and headed for the door, wishing a hole would swallow you up and this moment would never have happened. 

“It’s fine,” he insisted firmly, holding his hand up to keep you from darting out, finally looking up and meeting your nervous eyes. Nodding, you swallowed the thick lump in your throat and planted yourself firmly in your seat, “it’s been...a long day. It doesn’t excuse it...so just stay.”

“Really...I can come back another time,” you captured your bottom lip between your teeth and chewed on it for a moment, unsure of where to concentrate your gaze. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, knowing you’d be too far gone if you started at his handsome visage too much. It was hard enough in class to focus on what he was teaching when he came in looking handsome as hell everyday. You had tried, desperately so to avoid your attraction to him, but it was undeniable. Little did you know that you had slowly turned into the highlight of his day; the three hours a week you spent in classroom had him almost...excited to show up and teach. 

“Nah,” he insisted in such a blasé tone that you almost couldn’t believe it. You’d never heard him be anything but completely serious before, “I was just being an asshole...”

“I didn’t mean to imply-” 

“No, no, no,” he said quickly, giving you a surprised expression, “it’s not you. Trust me, it’s just... people don’t...normally come to my office hours. Maybe like one student a semester. And it’s usually for...”

“Your time in Colombia,” you concluded as he paused for a moment, still as could be as he nodded lightly. Clearly you’d struck a nerve; you could see it in the way his shoulders tensed, the veins in his neck protruding slightly as his hand curled into a fist and rested on the edge of the desk. In class he’d never even come close to bringing it up; hell, you’d never have known if Sarah hadn’t shown you that little article, “that’s not why I’m here. I swear.”

“Then what can I do for you?” his voice adopted a different tone, more docile and less on edge as his eyes seemed to rake over you and he could see you were being honest. You wrung your hands anxiously in your lap before pulling your notebook, and looking through your copious, detailed notes from his last lecture. Javi couldn’t help but try and skim over him as you dragged a finger down a page and stopped with a small triumphant little sound when you found what you had been searching for. He was impressed that you, or anyone, actually took the time and energy to listen to him.

“Your assignment,” you glanced over the notes and frowned at them, “you asked us to submit a proposal for a midterm paper topic, and you left it pretty open ended, but we’ve only covered up until about 1750. Does that mean we can do any major topic up to then or can we do anything? Do you have a preferred area of discussion? Or do you prefer we focus on a figure and analyze their viewpoints towards specific topics? I guess...I’m just looking for some guidance. I don’t want to do something and have it be off the mark and waste your time...or mine.”

“You...took the time to think about this and then come and ask me?” he sounded astounded as you slowly nodded, offering him a slight shrug of your shoulders. You hadn’t thought it was that weird...you just wanted to be sure about things, “huh. Do you actually like this class?”

“Professor...” you didn’t want to lie, not directly to his face as you sat in front of him, “it’s...”

“Just be straight forward,” he leaned back in his chair, playing with the pen in his hand as you let out a low breath, “I don’t care either way.”

“How honest do you want?” a small smile tugged on your features despite your best efforts to keep it at bay.

“Brutal.”

“I hate it,” you felt like you were confessing your sins in church, unsure of what to expect his reaction to be. What if this had all been some sort of weird test...what if he suddenly hated you? But he remained silent, waiting for you to expand on your answer, “it’s a subject I do not care for, and I only took it because it satisfied one of the last subject areas I needed and everything else was already filled up.”

But then, in a total change of pace, shocking you almost as much as it surprised him, he burst into a fit of laughter, throwing his head back as his warm, rich voice filled the small, dark space of his office. Your eyes widened as you tried not to focus on his smile and his glorious neck as you wondered if he was was going to commend or condemn you. 

“That was the most honest I think I’ve ever had someone be with me,” he answered once he calmed down, his shoulders still bouncing lightly with silent laughter, “the honesty...it’s quite refreshing.”

“I didn’t mean to offend you,” fumbling for the right words, your hands trembled slightly as you reached for your notebook, attempting to hastily stuff it into your bag and fun out of the room. But Javi reached over and grabbed one of your wrists with a touch that was both firm, but delicate enough to cause you to almost break your neck as you looked at him, “professor?”

“I’m not offended,” he promised, letting his hold on you linger a few moments before slowly releasing your wrist. He gestured for the notebook and you handed it over to him, nervous as to what he would say about your notes. Would you be in trouble? Would he be impressed? He was silent as he flicked through everything, his fingers touching over all the areas your pen had scribbled on, “these are extremely detailed and thorough for someone that apparently hates the subject.”

“I didn’t want to fall behind. There’s a lot to remember and take in,” you felt nervous as he scoured over your writing and read some rushed words under his breath, “I-I figured if I was going to take this class, regardless if I enjoy it or not, I should put in the time and effort. It’s not fair to you to just completely waste your time either.”

“Tell that to rest of the hundred and something students I have. They couldn’t give a shit less,” he suddenly snapped your notebook closed, the sharp sound reverberating loudly in the otherwise quiet room. Shoving the worn notebook across the desk, he let out a sigh before tousling his dark hair as you shoved it away. Something had struck a nerve with him and you were nervous, unsure of how he was going to respond to whatever you had to see. So the inattention and lack of care from the rest of the class was not lost on him, “it’s like teaching to an empty room.”

“And you?” a rush of courage and rushed through your bones and you were almost surprised that the words came out of your own mouth. Your hand flew to your face in shock and you were sure that must have gotten on his bad side now. Surely he wouldn’t tolerate that much insolence, if you could even call it that. Something in you snapped and you decided that if you were already on his list in red and underlined, you had nothing left to lose, “do you care?”

His lips turned into a thin, hard line, and he tapped his fingers against his stubble covered chin as he watched you closely. It was a weird thing, and you could feel him trying to analyze you. You refused to meet his eyes, not wanting to give in and let him see deep into you; maybe he wouldn’t like what he found. 

After a view moments of tense silence, he leaned back in his old chair, and it creaked loudly, the only disturbance in the still air. He dropped his fist back down and tapped it against the desk for a moment before quietly saying, “not as much as I should.”

“Oh,” you nodded, unable to blame him for teaching a class he didn’t really care about, “then why...never mind. I don’t mean to pry.”

 You stole a glance at your watch and noticed that it was now past his office hours; that was good enough of a reason for you to leave, right? You cleared your throat and quickly stood up before he could make any move to stop you, “your hours are over...I’ll just...go.”

“Wait-” he stood up but made no move to follow you, but keep his gaze on you. You paused with your hand on the door knob, not quite twisting it open yet as waited for him to speak. The tension in the air was palpable and you answered with a small nod, “I...we...how about you come back tomorrow? Or whatever day works and I can help you pick a subject for your midterm?”

“Y-you want me to come back?” there was a light shake to your voice as you realized what this meant. However he felt towards you, he didn’t completely dispose you anyways. Turning on your heel, you languidly raked your eyes up to meet his, finding him with his hands on his hips and an unreadable expression etched on his face, “you don’t have to, Professor. I’m sure I can find a topic to write on.”

“Javi,” his name rolled off his lips in an unsure tone and the corners of your mouth twitched into a small smile. He’d never offered is first name to a student before - he’d never even spoken this much to a student before. This was all uncharted territory for the both of you; normally you were steadfast and sure in your way, but this had you questioning a lot. Including where you truly stood with your enigma of a professor, “you can call me Javi.”

“Javi,” you repeated, sounding it out slowly and deciding that you liked how it sounded, how felt when you said it. Javi Peña. It was a good name. Despite it being his decision to tell you to call him that, he still seemed...confused. But as soon as he had told you his name, soft and gentle, you had made up your mind, “I’ll...be back tomorrow then.”

“Tomorrow,” he repeated quietly as you turned back to the door and turned the knob and slowly opened the heavy wooden door. You stepped out of his office and into the softly illuminated hallway. There was a few seconds were you contemplated turning around and offering him a wave, a proper goodbye, something, but instead, you clutched your book bag tighter and quickly took off down the hall, your heart racing as though you had just run a marathon. In sync with each footstep all you could think was Javi, Javi, Javi. 

Every last logical part of your brain told you not to return tomorrow, to just pick a topic and write a paper on it, but the other part of you, your more heart governed side, insisted that you should go back tomorrow. It told that there was something...more that you needed than help on your paper. You weren’t sure what it was, but you decided not to repress the feeling. 

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Why do you look so...happy?” Sarah looked up from the show she was watching and studied you for about five seconds before coming to the conclusion that something was definitely off. Not...in a bad way, but definitely different from what you would normally come home like after a day of back to back classes. Making it a point to put a frown on your face you shook your head as you dropped your book bag down and flopped onto the couch, pointedly avoiding her gaze, “babeeeeee. What happened? Did you get laid?”

“Sarah!” you burrowed further down on the couch and hid your face, “nothing happened and no, I did not get laid.”

“Then what is it?” she wasn’t about to drop the subject and you found yourself cursing her inquisitive nature, “did something happen in class? With hot professor!?”

“Absolutely nothing happened with him in class,” you insisted, your voice cracking lightly on the last word as she inhaled sharply. Peeking at her, you saw that she was almost bouncing out of her seat with excitement, “just because he’s hot-”

“You said nothing happened in class,” she came over and sat right next to you, patting your thigh in excitement, “then tell me, what happened after class?!”

“I went to his office during his office hours because I was stuck on the assignment,” you admitted, “at first he was annoyed...but then he wasn’t. He thought I just want to poke around about when he was in DEA, but I told him I just needed help. He was fine after that...mostly. I’m going back for help to tomorrow.”

“Shit,” her brilliant sapphire eyes were wide with excitement as her mind jumped to all sorts of conclusions, “office hours with hot Professor Peña!?”

“Javi,” you mumbled, barely audible to your own ears. Sarah sucked in a breath before letting out a squeal of excitement; she was even more invested in your little back and forth with him than you were. But every time you’d told her about your classes over the last six weeks, she was insistent, almost to a fault, that he felt something for you, that no teacher was like that with their students. You were sure it was just because you appeared to be the only living being in his class. 

“Javi,” she repeated in a dreamy voice, “that even sounds sexy.”

“He told me to call him that,” your face was hot and suddenly the thing sweater you were wearing seemed too much, and you quickly pulled it off in a vain attempt to still the warmth that was coursing through your veins, “it got late and I left...he asked me to come back tomorrow.”

“He asked?” you nodded as you bit your lip, realizing how it appeared to sound when you recanted the tale back to her. But if she had been there, she surely would have realized that it was all straight forward and there were no double entendres or anything. it was just professional; a professor helping his student, “hot professor asked you to come back tomorrow?”

“For help with my paper!” you groaned and hid your face in your hands, “that’s all and nothing more, I swear.”

“Oh no,” she shook her head fervently, sienna curls bouncing wildly, “there’s something more to this than meets the eye. I swear it, I can feel it. A professor doesn’t just tell you to call them by their nickname and insist you come back without an underlying motive.”

“It’s not...like that,” a heavy sigh escaped your lips, “he’s...different. I mean, sure he seems to hate life when he’s teaching, but I think he just wants to help. I think he felt bad for snapping at me at first...and maybe he wants to help because I’m the only one who gives a damn about his class.”

“That maybe so,” she agreed, giving your shoulder a light squeeze, “but there’s more to it. I’m sure of it, mark my words!”

“Sure Sarah,” tossing your head back on the couch, you stared at the ceiling and studied the patterns of the aging paint, “I’m sure something will happen between me and Javi.”

“Ahh! See you’re already calling him Javi!”

“PROFESSOR PEÑA!”

»»————-　♡　————-««

When you woke up the next morning, you slowly got ready for your classes, your heart beating wildly, quicker than the wings of a fluttering humming bird, as you realized what was to come this afternoon. You were sure that your nerves were for naught, but it still didn’t calm the wild fluttering going in your belly. Just before leaving, you checked yourself over in your mirror, deciding you were satisfied with your appearance. There was bright glow on your cheeks, prompting you to chide yourself for acting like a school girl with a crush instead of a groan woman.

But the day seemed to drag on, and on, and on, and by the time you headed out of your last class, you were tempted to go just go home and take a nap. Maybe that would have been better instead of going to Javi’s office and letting whatever would happen happen.

You were almost on autopilot as you entered the history department’s building, not thinking much of anything, besides not wanting to embarrass yourself in front of the mysterious professor. Before you knew it, you knocked softly on his door, but when you were met with silence, you rested your hand on the knob, wondering what was going what you should do. Maybe you hadn’t been loud enough? Knocking with more force this time, you waited with baited breath to see if he would let you in....but nothing. 

Sighing lightly to yourself, especially at the fact that you had gotten yourself so worked up over nothing, you hung your head and got ready to leave. You might as well disappear quickly before anyone could see the pathetic look on your face. You’d meandered about halfway down the hall, when you heard a pair of rushed footsteps behind you, and a rich voice called out your name. Spinning around, probably much too eagerly, you find Javier right standing out of his door, breathless as he waved you over. 

“I-I’m sorry I’m late,” he said as you slowly made your back down the hall, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he tried to catch his breath, “I was running behind and had to stop home to check on Stevie.”

“Stevie?”

“My dog,” he answered and your mouth curved upwards into a smile. He had a dog named Stevie; it wasn’t at all what you had expected, “I usually go earlier, but had a meeting that ran late and couldn’t get to him. I hope you weren’t waiting long.”

“No,” you answered in earnest, “I-I just...didn’t know if you’d forgotten or were busy or....”

“I haven’t forgotten,” he insisted as he opened the door to his office and ushered you inside, following closely behind, close enough that you could feel his body heat radiating onto yours. You remained silent as you slipped into the chair opposite his desk and pulled out a fresh pen and notepad, ready to take notes and figure out what on earth to do for your midterm, “all business, huh?”

He seemed mildly amused as he slinked into his own chair, more relaxed and calm than he had been the afternoon before. You lifted your eyes slowly and met his gaze as you nodded and shrugged; you wondered if he could hear how fast your heart was beating. Something in the air was different today...much more palpable than before. You wondered how long much longer you would walk on this thin line before it snapped and something happened. 

“Yeah,” you managed to say after a few moments of silence, his dark eyes never leaving your frame. Even with the silence, only the sound of the aging clock on the wall filling the room, you could sense that he was mulling over things in his mind. You could practically hear the gears turning, “I-I manged to come up with a few figures and events I might focus on, should any of them pique your interest.”

“I do like having my curiosity piqued,” there was a different tone to his voice and you could sense that there was bit of a double meaning to his words. But you didn’t want to get too lost in that, to let your mind wander, “tell me what you’ve come up with.”

“My main ideas are either Patrick Henry,” you looked up briefly to see if he was even interested and he nodded lightly, “or the Boston Tea Party. I know we technically haven’t covered that in class yet, but I figured I could give it a go.”

“Common topics,” he stated and you hung your head in annoyance; you thought that one of the two would be worthy of your time. He seemed to sense your dissatisfaction at his answers and shifted in his seat so he was leaning closer across his desk, and almost directly in front of you, “but I think you could make one them of them work. Give me liberty or give me death, or dumping tons of tea. Which do you prefer?”

“An overly dramatic statement or a waste of good tea,” you mused thoughtfully, tapping your pen against your chin, “I’m more disappointed in the loss of the tea. I’m thinking if I do enough digging I can focus on a few figures behind it all, lesser known figures or...something like that.”

“Well there you go,” without thinking, he reached over and grabbed your pen, earning a small sound of surprise from you. Pulling the notebook in front of him, he quickly scrawled your proposed topic down and next to that a big approved along with his signature. You couldn’t help the snort of laughter that came out of your mouth at his sudden burst of playfulness; you weren’t sure he had that kind of joking in him, “I look forward to reading to your paper. I’m sure it’ll be the best one in the class.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“You’re the only one in class with a fucking pulse,” he leaned back in his chair and put his hands behind his head, the picture of cool, calm, and collected. You tried not to let your eyes linger on how deliciously his crisp white button stretched across his chest, “I’ll probably get another forty papers on George Washington.”

“I do not envy you in the slightest then...Javi,” unsure if you were okay to his name you let it linger in the air slightly as he gave you a small smile, “I’ll try and make sure it’s not a complete mess then.”

“I’m sure it’ll be great,” he insisted, and suddenly you were unsure if you should just leave or stay. There really wasn’t any more reason to stay, now that you had figured out your topic...not that you apparently needed any help at all. Maybe you both just...wanted to be there. Drumming your fingers along the arm of the chair, you came to the conclusion that it was probably best to go. But before you could do or say anything else, he quickly asked, “do you like tea?”

“I do,” you grinned at his random question, “maybe even more than coffee.There’s nothing better than a good cup of tea at the end of the evening, especially now that’s turning to winter. Although I’m guessing you prefer coffee?”

“Lucky guess,” he clicked his tongue against his teeth, but the amusement on his face was still there.

“No,” you giggled lightly, “I’m just not blind - I’ve never seen you without a cup of coffee near you. Except today.”

“I suppose there’s a first time for everything,” he liked this; how easily you were able to tease him, how naturally you eased into conversation, despite the initial nerves, “what’s your favorite kind?”

“I dunno...I guess anything really,” you wondered why he was so curious, if he was just trying to be polite or he actually wanted you to stay there and speak to him, “I’ve really been liking matcha a lot.”

“Hmm,” he dragged his hand over his mustache and you couldn’t help but notice, as you had several times in the past, that there was no wedding ring, no suggestion that he’d ever worn one. Somehow it eased you ever so slightly, “sounds...interesting.”

“It’s really good,” you promised, “you should try it sometime. Well...thanks for all your help professor, I really appreciate it. Knowing I won’t be totally off the mark with this paper has made me feel better already.”

“Maybe I will,” he nodded as you slowly gathered your things and stood up, “anytime you need help, just let me know...”

“Thank you,” you heard him hastily grab a pen and then jot something down. The sound captured your attention and you turned around to see that he had piece of paper in his hand and was holding it out to you. Hesitating ever so slightly, you took it, your mouth gaping when you realized what it was, “professor...I don’t...”

“Javi,” he corrected firmly and you could barely keep yourself from combusting, “if you need any more help, at all, call me.”

“Y-yes,” your voice was a small, faltering little thing as you pocketed his phone number. Had your hot professor actually given you his phone number? The piece of paper burning a hole in your pocket firmly screamed yes, “thank you.”

Turning to leave again, he said your name softly, before you could step out of his office. Biting your lip, you turned around and found him with his hands on his hips, some sort of debate clearly raging inside from the look on his face, “are you...what are you...are you busy this weekend?”

“Umm,” clearly you needed to get your hearing check because there was no way in hell that Javier Peña, your professor, had just inquired about your weekend plans. Surely he just wanted to make sure you were dedicating your time to his assignment...right? There would be no good reason, no logical explanation for anything else, “I suppose I am. I’ve that paper to write, and some other assignments I’m trying to get a jump on.”

“R-right,” he ran his hand through his dark locks and let out a long breath, “good luck. See you in class.”

“Have a good weekend, Javi,” you offered him a small smile before stepping out and closing the door behind you. Your heart was hammering away and you could barely think straight before practically sprinting down the hallway. Your whole body felt like it was on fire, and while a part of you was nervous, the majority was flushed with sheer excitement.

Once he no longer heard the sound of your feet retreating on the linoleum tile, Javi looked the door and leaned against, letting out a long groan as he realized what he had just done, “fuck. Fuck!”

He couldn’t believe that he had just willed up the audacity to all but throw himself at you. He felt like a fool, like an old fool, with remnants of his former self slowly bubbling up. But no - he wasn’t that man anymore. He was no longer taking his emotions out by aimlessly fucking women. He was older, albeit slightly, but more collected, more...of the version of him that he liked. But this? Giving his number to a student and basically asking her out? That hadn’t been part of the plan at all. 

What if you didn’t feel the same way in the slightest? What if you were just actually being nice and wanted to succeed in his class? What if he’d made you uncomfortable? Surely he’d crossed just about every professional boundary he could think of...something not foreign to him by any means, but he just hadn’t planned on it happening anymore. Not like this.

But - you hadn’t spurned his advances, hadn’t turned him away, and you’d accepted his offer of coming back. Maybe he wasn’t reading the room wrong at all...maybe he wasn’t off the mark. But at the end of the day you were the student and he was the professor...it was wrong...but not really. Not if you were both consenting adults after all.

Shaking his head to himself, he slammed his fist against the frosted glass and willed himself to pull himself together. He couldn’t be going around like this, feeling like a teenager with a crush on a pretty girl. No - he had to be Professor Peña...a good man who only made the right decisions. 

But then...why was this so hard?

»»————-　♡　————-««

Javier felt lost...almost awkwardly out of place as he browsed the small aisles of the tea shop. He was not a large man any means, but he felt like a bull in a china shop as he looked at the all small colorful boxes, teas, and goods. Squinting and furrowing his brow as he pulled out his glasses, he sighed when he could finally read the small lettering clearly. 

“Do you need any help finding anything?” the shrill voice was enough to have him startled and almost drop the tin in his hands. Recovering quickly, he was about to shake his head and tell her no, but he knew he was lost as could be. Instead he slowly set the tin back down and nodded, “what are you looking for?”

“I’m not sure, honestly,” he admitted, having no clue as what to you liked besides this so called matcha. He should have investigated further somehow...but that felt like it would be too obvious, instead he opted to go in blind, just like he had with so many things in the past, “I know I’m looking for some matcha and then if you have any suggestions or recommendations...”

“Shopping for yourself?” she asked and he cringed internally - he wasn’t about to spill everything to this sales woman. Oh yeah, some for myself and then some for student I seem to really like.

“More or less,” that was as much as he was willing to offer, “just giving this tea thing a try.”

“Well, I can assure you, we have some of the finest teas around,” she grabbed his arm and started leading him to a different section of the store. Javi could hardly keep up at the sudden jerk and let himself be dragged like a rag doll, “there are several types of match here, ceremonial and culinary grades. There’s also a ton of different blends, so you can try out whatever kind of flavors you like. Do you like peach?”

“I love peach,” he narrowed his eyes as he read between the lines of her statement. She was either oblivious or brash, but she offered him a flirtatious smile anyway, “I like berries most of all...”

“Well, we’ve got all the finest fruit and herbal teas in all of Texas,” she insisted, “to suit whatever your needs are.

“It’s...ugh, the matcha is for me, the rest is a gift,” he finally admitted hoping that would throw her off the scent. She was attractive, in the most conventional sense, a bottle blonde with a dazzling smile and ruby red lips that most men would adore. In another life, at another time, he might have even pursued her, spent the evening with her to quiet the demons in his mind. But now? Surprisingly...he couldn’t care less, and honestly hoped she would take the hint and leave him, “so I’m looking for...maybe a random assortment? Less common teas?”

“Wife? Girlfriend? Coworker?” Javi fought hard not to roll his eyes at her inquisition, but instead offered up a saccharine smile of his own as he shook his head. She perked up slightly at the revelation, “so...just a gift?”

“Yes, she’s...special,” he didn’t know how else to describe but it bottle blond finally understood what he meant and nodded, “so I just...want to get her something she’ll like. She’s the one that told me about the matcha.”

“Sounds like she has good taste,” her response was a little more curt this time, as she came to the conclusion that Javier was decidedly not interested in her and was unlikely to make a move. Pointedly to the back of the store, she didn’t even bother to feign enthusiasm, “that area has all the more specialty teas and less common finds. You should be able to find something there. Let me know if you have other questions.”

Turning on her heel she left him again, and Javi couldn’t help but smirk lightly to himself at her annoyance. He thumbed through the various boxes, tins, and packages of matcha, wondering what you would pick out. Reading the descriptions was no help, but eventually he settled on something basic to try. He figured that was a good place to start. 

But before he left the tea shop, one he’d meandered into Austin to find, after hearing from several people that it was the best, he made his way to the back of the shop and spent probably more time than necessary browsing their selection. He hoped you would like it...that it would be worth it. Something in his gut told him to do it, and he worked to drown out that inner little demon that told him what he was doing was wrong.

»»————-　♡　————-««

Butterflies were fluttering wildly in your stomach as you walked into class on Monday afternoon, unsure of what to expect. Would Javi be the same as always? Almost bored and tired? Or would he have some sort of renewed sense of vigor? 

You’d thought about calling him all weekend, pretending that you needed some sort of help, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Instead you’d kept his number pinned to the cork-board in your room. Your eyes had wandered over to it on numerous occasions, but something held you back. You knew it wasn’t wrong...not inherently anyway, but you just couldn’t do it. Maybe you could see how today went and go from there....yes, today would be telling. 

But when you arrived at your seat, your eyebrows rose so high they almost disappeared into your hairline. Sitting on the desk you always occupied was a neatly wrapped bundle of tea boxes, topped with a large bow. You could see that it was several different varieties, all unusual, but somehow picked out with care. A face splitting grin appeared on your face as you picked it up and clutched to your chest, the faint smell of the teas hitting your nose. 

You turned around and let your eyes wander to the front of the room where you spied Javi setting out his notes for the day on his lecture. Almost as if he could feel your eyes on him, he looked up and offered you the best smile you ever seen. He had dimples...you never would have know before. You already loved them. 

You pointed at the bundle in your arms and mouthed a silent you? to which you were sure a flush of color rose up in his golden cheeks. He chewed on his bottom lip for a moment before giving you a singular nod before turning his efforts back to his notes. You slipped into your seat and put the present into your bag, making sure not to crush any of the boxes. A weird sense of warmth settled within you as you listened to him begin. 

You always knew that he kept his gaze trained in your direction when he taught, but something was different today. It was almost as if he was teaching, but only to you, his dark eyes almost never wavering from yours. You wanted to take diligent notes, truly you did, but there was something magnetic about him, and just couldn’t look away. Instead it was almost two hours if you making eyes at your Professor. Shameless, you thought to yourself, but so is he. 

Maybe you hadn’t been reading the signs wrong after all.

»»————-　♡　————-««

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[magic-and-moonlit-wings]

Chapter 55: Movie Night

Lots of quotes from the movie Lilo & Stitch ahead! Fewer quotes, but some, from Trolls and Frozen.

Bold italics are trollish, ~tildes~ indicate goblin.

Content warnings for this chapter: Swearing. Here we reach the story's first F-bomb.

Also, there is some talk between characters about the harshness of life in the Darklands, how Changelings are treated by the Gumm-Gumms, and mentions of cannibalism.

This was supposed to be a light-happy chapter that got feels-y at the end, but then it went and got all dark on me.

Oh, also-also, (Not) Enrique finds out Claire flirted with Jim a while ago and misinterprets what exactly happened between them, but that gets cleared up fast.

Becoming The Mask

Once again, Javier and Ophelia Nuñez were out for the evening, leaving Claire in charge of Enrique. Claire had gotten permission to invite "some friends" over to watch movies. Jim and Toby arrived to find Mary and Darci already there – Jim suspected, like the time he'd 'babysat', that Claire had purposefully asked him to arrive after she knew her parents would be gone.

They set up piles of cushions and blankets on the floor between the couch and the TV. Jim propped the Amulet up on the coffee table they'd pushed to one side. Maybe some of the ghost Trollhunters would be interested in human movies.

"Finally get your fill of the touchy-feelies?" Enrique teased Jim, seeing how they were all seated separately. Jim snorted.

"Not hardly." He pulled the smaller Changeling in for a hug. "Humans just have different rules about casual touching, is all. Freezing to death's not really a concern in this climate."

"Wait, what?" said Toby, dropping the pillow he'd been holding. Jim looked up to see all the humans staring at him.

"Darklands thing," said Enrique easily. "Gets cold there."

"We'd sleep in piles," Jim explained. "I had a bit of a reputation for being … clingy."

"If you weren't good at finding food and soft stuff, we'd never've put up with ya." Enrique proved himself a liar by climbing onto Jim's shoulders instead of jumping back to the floor. He fluffed the hair on Jim's scalp. "Jimmy-boy got his first nickname for that."

"Shut up," said Jim playfully. "Anyway, humans get weird about touching around puberty. I can still hug Mom whenever I want, but Toby gets embarrassed if I hug him around other people, and Claire, Mary, and Darci haven't given me permission to touch them casually yet."

"… Did you … want permission?" asked Claire. "You, kinda, said you were uncomfortable with that, I thought."

"No, it was more wondering if you were flirting with me that felt weird," Jim assured her. "After that conversation I felt like it'd be awkward to bring up that I was open to hugging and such."

Jim thought he felt Enrique growl, to quietly to properly hear. His hand, still in Jim's hair, changed position so the tips of Enrique's claws were on Jim's scalp.

"When exactly did this happen?" Enrique asked.

"Claire kissed Jim on the cheek on his birthday and then Jim said he wasn't interested in dating her," said Mary.

"Also that I realized she might not have meant it in a flirty way and if I was misinterpreting things she could ignore what I was saying," Jim added. The claws retreated.

Claire looked away. "So what movie did we want to start with?"

"Lilo & Stitch!" exclaimed Darci, looking through the shelves. "I haven't watched this in forever!"

"That's a good one." Jim tilted his head to get Enrique back in his peripheral vision. "Enrique, have you seen it yet?"

"… Yeah."

"Isn't that the one that always makes you cry?" asked Toby.

"It's beautiful. Of course I cry."

Stitch was a constructed 'abomination', who shapeshifted to blend in, and his adopted family found out what he truly was and still wanted him. How could Jim be expected to keep his composure in the face of that?

"So, quick question," said Jim. "Is talking during the movie a crime, or is commentary what makes it a group activity?"

"Commentary," said all three girls together.

"Okay, good." Jim and Toby usually talked during movies, unless one or both of them were seeing it for the first time. Sometimes even then.

+=+

"Not guilty! My experiments are only theoretical, and completely within legal boundaries."

"We believe you actually created something."

"Created something? Ha! But that would be irresponsible, and, unethical. I would never, ever – make more than one."

"What is that monstrosity?"

"Monstrosity?! What you see before you is the first of a new species!"

"You have to wonder if she and Merlin ever had a talk like this," Enrique muttered in Jim's ear. Jim snickered.

"And as for that abomination … it is the flawed product of a deranged mind. It has no place among us."

Jim stopped laughing and cringed. He loved this movie a lot, but some of it stung.

+=+

"A quiet capture would require an understanding of 626 that we do not possess! Who, then, Mr Pleakley, would you send for his extraction?"

"… Does he have a brother? Close grandmother, perhaps?"

"Fun fact," said Darci, "in early drafts Stitch was a career criminal and Jumba was an old accomplice."

"Friendly cousin? Neighbour with a beard?"

+=+

"Surely the teacher won't notice I was late if he doesn't see me come in!" Claire narrated sarcastically.

+=+

"I'm sorry, Scrump!" Mary wailed, as Lilo ran back to retrieve the doll she'd angrily thrown aside.

+=+

"Let me illuminate to you the precarious situation in which you have found yourself. I am the one they call when things go wrong. And things have indeed gone wrong."

"As a cook, that kitchen horrifies me," said Jim.

+=+

"If you promise not to fight anymore, I promise not to yell at you – except on special occasions."

"Tuesdays and bank holidays would be good."

The entire group cracked up.

"How does kid Lilo's age even know what a bank holiday is?" said Claire. "I don't even know what a bank holiday is!"

"Maybe she saw it printed on a calendar?" said Toby.

+=+

A raindrop fell on Stitch's head. He fired his ray gun into the sky. It started raining, hard.

"Oh, no, I broke the sky!" Darci cried.

+=+

"Does it have to be this dog?"

"He survived getting hit by a truck, how much more sturdy and not-gonna-die do you want?" asked Jim.

"Yes. He's good. I can tell."

+=+

"I'm sorry I bit you. And pulled your hair. And punched you in the face."

Mary nudged Claire. "Remind you of anyone?"

Like sunflowers, everyone else popped up and turned towards them.

Claire blushed. "We got into a fight in first grade and for like two days we decided we didn't want to be friends anymore, then our moms made us say sorry."

"He will be irresistibly drawn to large cities, where he will back up sewers, reverse street signs, and steal everyone's left shoe."

"It's weird they get in trouble for everything but this," commented Enrique. "Human grown ups might not believe a dog stole a trike, but wouldn't they think Lilo did it? She's fought the other kid before."

"It's nice to live on an island with no large cities."

+=+

"It's not an angel, Lilo, I don't even think it's a dog!"

"Isn't that the rolling thing Draal can do?" said Toby.

"Yeah, more or less," said Jim. "I mean, I don't think Draal bites his feet – but maybe that's the trick."

"At least with those stick legs you've got," said Enrique. He curled into a ball and rolled in a circle around the group. "Face it, you're out of proportion for this move."

+=+

"626 was designed to be a monster. But now, there is nothing to destroy. You see, I never gave him a greater purpose. What must it be like, to have nothing? Not even memories to visit, in the middle of the night?"

"Now, this next bit I don't care for," said Jim. "The Ugly Duckling is a messed-up story."

"What've you got against The Ugly Duckling?" asked Mary.

"The blatant segregationist propaganda? 'A swan will never fit in with ducks and everyone is better off sticking with their own kind'. You don't even have to read it as a race metaphor. Between that and The Little Mermaid, I thought for while that Hans Christian Anderson was a Changeling writing cautionary tales about why we shouldn't get attached to humans."

"… Was he?" asked Claire.

"Probably not. I couldn't find any real evidence and the rest of his work doesn't match the pattern."

"Counterpoint," said Darci. "The Ugly Duckling is pro-integration. Everyone thought he was an ugly duckling because they didn't know what swans look like. If he'd grown up with ducks and swans around, they could've judged him for what he was instead of what he couldn't measure up to, and he might've had a happy childhood instead of only finding a community that accepted him as an adult."

Jim considered this, and nodded. "I guess I can see that, too."

+=+

"Heard you lost your job."

"Well, uh, actually, I just quit. That job. Because, you know, the hours are just not conducive to the challenges of raising a child –"

"Nani, no!" Jim begged. "I know almost nothing about Social Services but I'm pretty sure choosing to leave your only source of income looks worse to them than just losing it!"

"Thus far you have been adrift in the sheltered harbour of my patience; but I cannot ignore you being jobless. Do I make myself clear?"

"Perfectly."

"And next time I see this dog, I expect it to be a model citizen. Capiche?"

"Uh … yes?"

"New job. Model citizen. Good day."

+=+

"So, we saw Cobra on the beach after all the tourists got scared off … D'you think he was just standing there watching them the whole time?" Mary wondered out loud after the surfing sequence.

+=+

"Until we meet again …"

Lilo was about to tell Stitch about her parents. Without thinking, Jim grabbed the remote – on the coffee table, next to the amulet – to fast forward.

"What are you doing?" Darci cried. "This is one of the big emotional turning points of the film!"

Jim paused it. "Sorry. Uh … Tobes and I usually skip this scene."

"I think I can handle it," Toby assured Jim. To the girls and Enrique, he explained, "My parents died in a storm when I was two. A cruise ship, not a car accident. I got kind of upset the first time we watched this as kids, and, we got in the habit fast forwarding this part. I think I'm okay with it now."

"You're sure?" asked Jim.

"I'm sure."

"Okay …" He rewound to the point where he'd started fast forwarding.

"That's us before. It was rainy, and they went for a drive. What happened to yours?"

Jim watched Toby more than the movie for the next few minutes.

"I'll remember you, though. I remember everyone that leaves."

"Do you remember them?" Claire asked quietly.

"Only the stuff Nana tells me." Toby shrugged, and readjusted the cushions he'd propped up his arms on. "I've seen lots of pictures. A couple home movies."

+=+

"Don't run. Don't make me shoot you. You were expensive. Yes, yes, that's it, come quietly."

"I'm … waiting."

"For what?"

"Family."

"Ah. You don't have one. I made you."

"Maybe … I could –"

"You were built to destroy. You can never belong."

Jim blinked fast to keep the tears back. He sniffed, and pulled the blankets more tightly around him.

+=+

"Okay, talk! I know you had something to do with this, now where's Lilo? Talk! I know you can."

"Claire?" said Mary. "You okay?"

Jim looked over. Claire's jaw was clenched, and her hands were tight on the blanket, and her eyes were huge and fixed on the screen, and she was shaking.

"Ah … maybe the little sib getting snatched by otherworldly forces wasn't the best movie choice," Enrique said. He reached out like he was about to go to Claire, then pulled back his hand and hunkered down where he was.

"LILO! She's a little girl this big, she has black hair and brown eyes, and she hangs around with that THING!"

"I'm. Fine," Claire insisted.

"You're sure?"

"We can just fast forward."

"I said I'm fine!"

"Okay …"

Mary and Darci each scooted their blanket and cushion piles closer to Claire's, bracketing her on either side. Jim tactfully retreated to the Nuñezes kitchen to microwave a few more bags of popcorn. Enrique went with him. They could still hear the TV.

"What? After all you put me through, you expect me to help you just like that? Just like that?!"

"Ih."

"Fine."

"Fine? You're doing what he says?"

"Ah, he is very persuasive."

"Is it normal to feel bad for her?" Enrique asked.

"I think so? It's an awkward situation for both of you." Jim selected the white cheddar flavour. "But it's not like there's an alternative. You're not a polymorph. And really, the only reason she's upset is because she found out."

The Nuñezes had the same microwave as the Lakes. Jim didn't find the popcorn setting especially useful for this brand of popcorn – it tended to burn a third of the kernels– so he used the timer instead.

"I never apologized to you for that, did I?" Jim asked.

"It wasn't all your fault."

"Still, I'm sorry for my part in getting you caught."

The Changelings got back to the living room in time to see the unfortunate tourist lose his ice cream for the third time.

+=+

"Does Stitch have to go in the ship?"

"Yes."

"Can Stitch say goodbye?"

"… Yes."

Like he always did during this scene, Jim cried. He let himself do it this time.

+=+

"Wait, how is Little Mermaid a cautionary tale?" asked Enrique during the credits. The camera panned over a photo of Stitch reading to a flock of ducklings. "For getting attached, I mean. I thought the moral of that one was to control yer temper and be careful who you made deals with?"

"Sure, the Disney version," said Jim. "They adapted it to make a more dramatic, less depressing story. And give the characters names. In the older version, the sea witch is actually a neutral character. The terms of the mermaid's transformation are that she's traded her tongue for legs, but walking on land hurts, and she'll become fully human if the prince marries her, but if he marries anybody else, she'll die."

"That doesn't sound neutral."

"Wait for it. The prince gets engaged to a human princess, so the mermaid's older sisters trade their hair to the sea witch for a magic knife and a loophole; if the little mermaid kills the prince before the wedding, she can turn back into a mermaid and survive."

"Kay, I see it now."

"Except she doesn't go through with the kill, so she dies, and because she wasn't really human, she doesn't have a proper soul, so her spirit's not allowed to go to Heaven."

"… Whoa."

"I know, right?"

"I mean," Mary commented, "not murdering somebody is kind of a low bar for moral decency. It's not as if the prince owed her anything just because she was attracted to him."

"No, no, whether the prince deserved to die or not is irrelevant," said Jim. "The point is that the mermaid had a chance to, objectively, trade one life for another, and because she was attached to the particular person she'd have to kill, she didn't prioritize her own survival, and therefore suffered."

"Wouldn't the guilt of murder have caused suffering anyway?" Toby pointed out.

"Not if she wasn't attached," Jim insisted. How were they not getting this? "If she could've just cut the throat of any random human, she'd've been fine. The moral of the story is that caring about people causes pain. That's what makes it depressing."

"Do you like any fairy tales?" asked Darci.

"Sure. Just not most of Anderson's work."

"What should we watch next?" said Claire hospitably. "If we're on a 'sister movies' theme, I've got Frozen."

"Isn't that one also based on an Anderson fairy tale?" said Mary.

"Not really," said Jim. "The Snow Queen was more 'inspiration' than 'source material'. Elsa never kidnaps anyone, and they left out the broken enchanted mirror. Plus it's fun to see all the different ways humans think trolls are like."

"We also have the Trolls movie," said Claire. "I haven't watched it yet. My dad got it for Mom's birthday because she used to collect the dolls."

"I haven't seen that one yet, either," Darci commented.

"Should we?" said Mary. "Any other votes?"

"I'm game for whatever," said Toby. "This one's a musical, right? Those are always fun."

Jim squirmed.

He hadn't watched this movie despite his curiosity, after an online clip of the opening had explained the premise. Getting eaten alive was his greatest fear. Did he want to watch a movie about trolls narrowly avoiding being eaten? Did he want to explain why he didn't want to watch it?

While he debated, the movie got put in.

"Once upon a time, in a happy forest, in the happiest tree, lived the happiest creatures the world has ever known: the trolls. They loved nothing more than to sing, and dance, and hug, and dance and hug and sing and dance and sing and hug –"

Enrique started laughing.

Oh, shit, Jim hadn't warned him.

"Uh, Enrique –"

"Ssh! This is ridiculous. I mean, the huggy bit's kind of like you, but the rest of it – ha!"

"But then one day, the trolls were discovered by – a Bergen!"

"The trolls are gonna –"

"Ji-im! Spoilers!" Toby hissed.

"They were the most miserable creatures in all the land."

Jim grabbed Enrique and covered his eyes. The smaller Changeling yelped and squirmed. Jim switched forms so his fingers wouldn't bleed from the clawing.

Enrique got his eyes uncovered just in time to see the Bergen flick a troll into its mouth.

The onscreen troll's exclamation of "Oh my god!" was drowned out by Enrique's much more lurid cursing.

"What the –?" The girls and Toby all turned to stare. Claire pointed at Enrique accusingly. "I knew that didn't mean 'I'm sorry'!"

"The hell kinda movie is this?! Why would you watch this?!" He twisted to look at Jim, who let go of him rather than risk yanking his scruff by accident. "You knew?!"

"I saw a bit of it on the internet when it first came out. That's why I froze up when Claire suggested it."

That … that was the wrong thing to say. Enrique rounded on Claire. A techno-rock cover of In The Hall Of The Mountain King boomed from the movie soundtrack.

"Why in FUCK'S NAME would you think we'd WANT to watch trolls get EATEN? Is this some kind of threat?"

"How the fuck would it be a threat?" Claire shot back, stealing some cushions from Mary to prop herself up taller without getting out of her blanket cocoon.

"Most Changelings –" Jim started to say.

"DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY TIMES I'VE ALMOST BEEN EATEN?" Enrique roared. "I DON'T! CAUSE IT'S A LOT!"

"We've all had close calls," Jim finished. "Nyarlagroths, Hellheetis, goblins if you catch them in the wrong mood, Gruesomes if you're already hurt, Stalklings, and it's a … popular threat from Gumm-Gumms."

"You forgot the sloorbeasts," said Enrique bitterly.

"Nobody's gotten lichen patches that bad." At least, they hadn't when Jim got out. "Have they?"

"Still counts."

"Uh, excuse me." Toby raised his hand. "I think I speak for us all when I say, what?"

"The Darklands are a hostile environment with predators and scavengers," explained Jim. "That's the other reason we slept in groups."

"Bigger targets, but we could have lookouts."

"Okay, that's its own kind of horrifying, but I was more reacting to the cannibalism?"

"Changelings don't count as real trolls," Enrique said sarcastically. "We're Impure."

He left out the part where they'd eaten their own dead. Jim didn't add it.

(It wasn't like they'd hunted each other for food. Sometimes a Changeling just died, somehow, in a way that didn't get them eaten by something else, and … well, food was scarce in the Darklands. They couldn't afford to be picky.

It also paid to keep watch over the sentry posts. Gunmar occasionally used the Decimaar Blade to post a sentry and then forgot to order them to rest and eat. Once they died, the average adult Gumm-Gumm was a meal for twenty Changelings, easily, if they could get to the body before the Gruesomes did.)

"Okay, we're switching to Frozen." Mary made the executive decision. "Wait," she said, while exchanging the disks. "If Changelings aren't trolls, how does Jim's adoption work?"

Because of course this was the perfect moment to tell Enrique about that, right in the middle of a squabble with his adopted sister.

"For one thing, most of Trollmarket still thinks I'm human." Jim switched back to human shape to illustrate the point.

"You got adopted?"

"AAARRRGGHH and Blinky thought I should have legal standing in Trollmarket outside of my job."

Enrique stared at him. Green diamond-shaped ears were pinned back. Buggy, slit-pupil eyes were wide and hurt.

"You get everything," he grumbled. "Two nicknames, and the goblins liked you, and you could always find food, and here you're the boss's favourite even when you're a traitor, and your human family still likes you, and now you get a troll family too? S'not fair."

"Hey, the goblins liked you, too." Jim was fully aware that wasn't much comfort compared to all the rest of it. "They gave you your nickname, remember?"

"They gave you one, too."

"Yeah, but you got yours first."

They probably weren't supposed to hear Darci when she muttered, "I feel like we're missing a lot of context."

"Shit," Claire muttered back. "Not Enrique told me a bit of the name part. They don't remember their names from before they were Changelings, and they don't get real names until they have Familiars, so they use nicknames instead. From each other or from goblins, he said."

"They don't get names?" Darci's voice went squeaky at the end of that.

"We're trying to come up with something other than 'Enrique' for him."

"You're trying," Enrique corrected. Darci squeaked again.

"Can we maybe circle back to the cannibalism thing?" said Toby. "That feels like the kind of trauma that should get unpacked at some point."

"I would rather leave it packed," said Jim.

"The way you blurted it out like that feels like you need to talk about it."

"Not all psychology is Freudian, Tobes."

"Do your parents still have baby name books from when they were picking Enrique's name?" Mary asked Claire. "Real Enrique, I mean."

"They didn't use one. He was named after our abuelo."

"Okay, so what about your other grandfather? What was his name?"

"Jose María." Defensively, "It's gender neutral in Spanish."

On the television screen, the movie menu finished another loop and started again.

"I tried spelling my name like it sounds, en are ee kay, but Claire said it spelled 'Nrek'. You get why I couldn't use that."

Jim laughed.

"What's funny?" asked Toby. "Is that an insult or something?"

"No, it's goblin, in English it means 'bottle'," Jim translated. "Or possibly 'container of food'." The only bottles he's seen them use held formula for the Familiars, and the word hadn't come up on the surface, so the distinction was unclear. "It's either a silly name or a really morbid one."

"Aaand we're back to the cannibalism."

"No we are not!"

"Na na na heyana, Hahiyaha naha …"

Either somebody had decided to start the movie, or the DVD had that feature where it automatically began playing if nothing was selected after a few loops of the menu.

The conversation went in circles a couple more times, then faded out.

+=+

"And who's the funky-looking donkey over there?"

"That's Sven."

"Uh-huh; and who's the reindeer?"

"… Sven."

"Oh, they're – ? Oh! Okay! Makes things easier for me."

"~Riot~," said Enrique.

"Huh?"

"My nickname. Before. It meant 'riot'."

What are you doing? Jim wanted to demand. Was Enrique just – just giving up on a real name?

"You can call me that for now. Till we work out a for-real one. Better than 'Not Enrique'."

Jim stuffed some burnt popcorn kernels into his mouth to keep from protesting. He couldn't undermine Enrique's – Riot's – chosen name, right in front of a bunch of humans, when he'd been arguing with them about how rude that was for weeks now.

"Oh. Okay." Claire half-smiled. "Riot."

Jim shut his eyes to hide the flaring glow.

+=+

Previous Chapter (Angor Rot gets treated much better, and more sensibly, than in canon, and is correspondingly less vengeful)

Table of Contents 

Next Chapter (Featuring either Otto or Gatto)

A quick thank you to Taycin on AO3 for providing some name-gender context when this chapter first went up.

[boogiewrites]

Never Break the Chain Pt 5

Part 5 of 5

Characters: Javier Peña x OFC

Summary:  Reunited after their deadly close encounter. They finally have time to ask the right questions and give honest answers.

Warnings/Tags: Sexual Content. Lover’s reunited. Confessions of Love. 

Getting shot was never part of the plan, but it was always an option she had to consider. She was already marked and scarred, not the first time she'd been shot, but the first time in the shoulder. Needless to say, it fucking hurt.

Staggering, bloody through the streets was awkward enough, being shirtless turned it into a circus attraction. She had to shove with her good arm through concerned passersby and made her way as quickly as she could to her bike. It was a good trek, but far away from the action. She had a jacket in the side bag, and that had one problem fixed. The other, a much larger one was leaking out of her sleeve and throbbing through her entire body every time she moved, which was as little as she could manage. Being the sinful girl scout she was, she was always prepared, which meant knowing where she could go if she was shot. It was always a smart move to have blackmail on a veterinarian. She wobbly directed her bike with only one truly useful arm and braced herself for a very painful experience.

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

As soon as his eyes opened in the hospital room, he was being asked questions. The last thing you want to do after losing so much blood and being shot with surgery on top of that was be interrogated. But here he was. After giving his signature attitude that no supervisor had ever enjoyed dealing with, he was left alone. He finally knew some peace after a week or so, laying with eyes closed, healing up well he was told, now waiting out infection just to be safe. He’d never passed out from blood loss before, and he would be lying if he didn’t feel every second his age while he had been in the hospital. The bare walls and sterile fixtures didn’t help make him feel any warmer or comfortable. The pain medicine in his IV did though.

Murphy comes in, an eyebrow raised and a grunt in response to the appearance of his partner was given in acknowledgment.

“I know. I look like shit.” Javi smarts, adjusting himself to sit more upright, a pull in his side still noticeable but no longer grating.

“If you’re aware of that I guess that marks off one of my theories.”

“You? Have a theory?” Javi snarks, leaning back, propped up and hands across his stomach.

“I thought you might’ve had brain damage.” Murphy grins. “Claiming you didn’t know who that woman was we saw.”

“You didn’t say anything did you?”

“Don’t insult me, man.”

“Good.”

“They’re pretty fuckin’ annoyed with you right now.” the observation draws a chuckle from Murphy.

“Good. They’re only going to get more mad.”

“I can see why you’d wanna protect her though.”

A raised eyebrow was all that was needed to ask a question.

“They not tell you about anything that happened after you passed out?”

There's a pause as a wave of subdued anger rises on Javi’s face.

“I got to ya first. I peek over the edge of the roof and there she was…” he holds his arms out, a dramatic retelling for no other reason than to take his sweet time and annoy his partner. “You sure can pick ‘em Javi. She was standing there like some Colombian centerfold with no shirt on, hair all wild. I would’ve thought I’d just interrupted you two having a good time if I didn’t know better.”

“What the fuck are you talking about? Shirtless?”

“Still had her bra on. Unfortunately.” Steve huffs out a laugh at him and the annoying twitch in Javi’s crow’s feet. “She made her shirt into a tourniquet for you, man. It was ripped and holding your guts in. You’ve got to thank that pretty little lady for saving your ass.”

He sits silently for a moment. “No wonder they thought I was working with the narcos.” he says quietly.

“They told you that?”

“Not outright.” he shakes his head.

“I guess you don’t know about what Trujillo did then huh?”

A sharp turn to face Murphy and a glare told him to spit it out fast.

“I saw her and she had her hands up, let me know you were shot. The sweet thing said, Murphy...Please don’t let him die.”

A twitch of his nose and an uncomfortable grunt show the emotion Javi was willing to show about the heartfelt statement.

“So I put my gun down, cause I figured I knew it was your girl. Who else would be willing to save you and put herself out like that? Unfortunately...Trujillo wasn’t aware of that.” he pauses for a moment, a wince to tell Javi the rest. “And he shot at her.”

“Shot AT her or shot HER.” Javi immediately demands clarification.

“Both.” he shrugs.

“Why the fuck am I just finding this out? Is she alive?” he begins getting out of bed, his torso pulling forward before Steve holds an arm out to keep him down.

“Woah, she should be, man, don’t get your panties in a bunch. She jumped off the roof and I was honestly a bit worried he’d hit her, but when I looked down there was a mess of a dumpster and a blood trail out to the street. You were right about her being good.”

“I know I was.” his brow furrows, immediately preoccupied with her again. “You should check the-”

“Hospitals, I know. I already did. Nothing. I would’ve been in to see you way sooner if she was dead.”

Javi looks away and that’s the closest to a thank you Murphy will get, but it was enough.

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

The first night back in his apartment Javi sat and smoked by an open window, half expecting Esme to show up, a pop of black hair over the edge of the roof but she never came. He could swear she said she wanted to stay with him, or there was something building when the moment was ripped away. He wanted to be angry and tell himself he was being stupid, but he couldn’t help but think he was recalling correctly.

-----

He had finally gone back to work. He hadn’t foreseen a warm welcome but being reprimanded and lectured hadn’t been what he expected either. He was too distracted, not trustworthy, a rebel, a loose cannon. All things he’d heard before. This time they focused on his history with women. Both professionally and personally, the experience was vast. He had pulled more visas out of thin air than anyone in the DEA. His methods worked, yes it was sleeping with his informants and gaining their trust but it was a perk to a transaction that always worked. Because of Esme’s unknown identity, they had nothing concrete about him having connections with the groups they were after. He wouldn’t budge in telling them and they couldn’t accept that. So now he was too lenient on women, they said. His judgment couldn't be trusted because he could be compromised. To say he was pissed was an understatement. Had this suspension and possible reassignment after a board review been something he thought could happen? Of course. That didn’t mean he had to take it well or be happy about it.

He went to a bar, Murphy giving apologetic glances and slaps to the back between snarky remarks to break the tension. Javi knew he meant well, but his mind was elsewhere. He sauntered home, a warm belly of the contents of a few highball glasses and a glare on his face. He didn’t contain his annoyance as he let his boots hit heavy up the stairs and his shoulder jam against his door before opening it and twisting the lock hard. A more vulnerable groan, his hands running down his face after throwing the contents of his pockets onto the counter diffuse through a quiet and dark apartment. The warm light from the street lamps outside seep in through the thin curtains, a light breeze causes them to sway against their thicker partners that provided a shield from the sun during the day. He moves towards a window, feet dragging slightly, lighting a cigarette that illuminates him in orange and red for just a moment before the billowing smoke frames his face, half-lit in Rembrandt lighting by the mix of the moon and artificial light.

“Bad day Javi?”

He hears from the direction of the chair in his living room. Any other voice he would’ve turned and leaped for his gun and aimed, but he shut his eyes and took another patient inhale and exhale.

“I was wondering when you’d show up.”

“You should have better security for your place.” she smiles but he doesn’t see it, she admires him for a moment before standing.

“Not many have the balls to break into a cop's apartment.”

“It’s not a matter of excess balls, but lack of brains.”

He turns to see her in a dress, ruffles on the edges and red as blood fitting her loose and tucked in at the waist. A matching flower sat in her hair, woven espadrilles on her feet made her look like any other beautiful woman he’d look twice at on the street. He could see her green eyes gazing at him doe-like and calm in the low light. They gave away that she was special, not by their color but in how they looked at him. No other woman had looked at him like that. He would’ve sworn all the answers he needed were right there in her eyes as she approached him, he could’ve almost gone on without the need to say his questions out loud. But he was never one to act without proof.

He looked her up and down, a cigarette resting between his lips before he pulled out a chair next to the small kitchen table against the windowed wall. “I’d ask what took you so long but by comparison, you didn’t make me wait long at all this time.” He begins taking off his boots, giving her time to respond and appear calmer about her appearance than he was.

“I had things to take care of.” She pauses, hip against the kitchen counter observing him and appreciating seeing how his jeans pulled tight across his thighs and hips as he moved.

He looks her over again, her relaxed stance, weight on her arm resting as he took a long drag. He stands and walks over, his significantly taller frame, even minus the boots, takes his time taking her in. He selfishly makes her wait, drinks her in, pushing her hair off her shoulders and almost touching the bare skin of her decolletage. “Is it true that you got shot?”

She nods and motions with her head, “In the shoulder.”

He takes his liberties and pulls the sleeve of her dress down to expose a fresh pink scar. “Still hurt?”

“Does yours?” a light touch to his side for a moment, barely outstretching her arm for how close they stood. Personal space wasn’t something either of them was interested in when they were together.

“Sometimes.” he admits.

She nods in agreement. “Yeah, sometimes.” is her quiet answer. He leans down for a moment and kisses the blemish on her shoulder.

“You could’ve let me know you were okay.” she was prepared for anger, which she deserved, admittedly, but she wasn’t met with it. His eyes were dark and deep, looking over her wound where his thumb was currently tracing.

“I didn’t want to risk being seen.” he keeps his eyes on her scar, his brow low and to anyone else, he would read as angry, but she knew he was just thinking, wheels turning and recalling the day she received the mark. “What did work say?”

“Why?”

“Call me curious.”

“I’d much rather hear what you have to say.” he meets her eyes again but he’s faced with the look of insistence a woman gives a man she loves. “Alright,” he sighs. “I'm under review. They wanted me to give you up, tell them who you were but... “ he shrugs, needless to say, he didn’t give them so much as her alias. “They don’t trust me. Too many favors pulled to cover other people’s asses finally caught up to me.”

She nods, looking away in thought for a moment. “You were too good in other words.” she finally answers, reaching out to take the hand that had been anchored to his jutted-out hip.

“Me?” he lets out a chuckle, another inhale, blown away from her face. “I’m not the one who lost their shirt saving my ass from getting shot.” he grins and nods down at her. “I’ve been told I should thank you for saving my life.” he takes one last drag before snuffing out the cherry in the ashtray on the counter.

“It was nothing.” she lied and matched his grin.

“If you’re so bad at lying, how have you not been caught yet?” a teasing squeeze of her hand as the pair rest in the small space between them. “Wasn’t nothing.” his other, now free, hand rests on her scarred arm. “Getting shot for me is something. Men get medals for that shit.”

“But I’m not a man. Just a topless woman who’s stupid enough to risk her life for one.”

A soft huff of amusement is shared between them. “So that part was true?” his smile reaches up to his eyes before he pulls her in to kiss her head and her laugh gives him his answer. “I really wish I hadn’t been a chicken shit and passed out. Would’ve liked to have seen that. ”

“Play your cards right and you still might,” she smirks. “But I believe we have a conversation to finish first.”

“So I didn’t dream all that?”

“No, you didn’t.” a soft and gentle answer, her eyes tender as they looked up to his face. He sees the lump in her throat bob before she speaks. “Where did we leave off?” She sounded a touch uncertain.

“You gonna act like you haven’t been playing it over and over in your head this whole time?” His head ducks down to eyeball her and she gives him an unexpected smile that grows up to her eyes.

Touching his face she lets out a wistful sigh, thumb dragging on his clean-shaven cheek. “I didn’t even realize how much I missed you until I saw you again.”

The sentiment was a punch in the gut that softened him, clearing his throat he looks away almost bashfully for a moment.

“Once I saw you that night in the jewelry store you haven’t been far from my mind. And since that kiss…” her eyes move to his lips and he nervously wets them. Only she could make him nervous. He lost the power balance when he was with her and it felt new, almost scary again. It made his old bones feel like a kid again when she said sweet things to him. “I would’ve come to see you sooner if I could have. I’m sorry. I worried the whole time if that’s any consolation.”

“I worried about you too. Always have.” He speaks quietly and almost mumbles the latter, turning to kiss her palm that had started stroking into his hair absent-mindedly. “I thought if I ever saw you again I would give you a piece of my mind. I'd tell you everything I’d built up in my head all these years.” His eyes move to her marked shoulder and he places his hand over hers. “But you’re making it hard on a man, sweetheart… looking at me like that.”

“Like what?” She quietly laughs and moves her chest to his, her other hand moving to hold his face and he encapsulates her other hand

“Like you used to. Like you love me.” There’s a pause and the cards are on the table. Neither was the type to fold and bluffing wasn’t an option in this company.

“That’s because I do.” She shakes her head. “I didn’t want to leave you, Javi.”

“Then why’d you do it?”

“I had to find out for myself, didn't I? I’m as hard-headed as you are, no one could tell me nothin’ at that age. I had big dreams, ones I couldn’t reach if I was with you.”

“What about now?”

“Now?”

“Could you reach them if you were with me now?”

She smiles almost condescendingly at him. “That’s why I’m here.” She whispers and gives him a small kiss to his lips before pulling away and moving farther into the room. “I just finished a job.”

His hands fall to his sides, holding to hers until they’re forced to let go. “And?”

“It was my goal. For a long time. I wanted to work with a billionaire and I have. So now I’m faced with what to do next.”

“Well, what do you want?” He takes slow steps towards her.

“You.” She looks his way with her big green eyes shining.

“How may I be of service?” He holds his arms out in offering.

She takes almost a full minute to speak and a worry grows in his gut as he musters all his patience to wait. “I’m tired, Javi.” Is the response she finally sighs out and meets his eyes.

With a furrowed brow he begins to move her towards the couch. “Well you were shot hun-“

“No. Not like that.” She stops him and her fingers pick at each other. “I want... this to be over.”

“You’re gonna have to give me a little more than that, sweetheart.”

“I was wrong. I can admit that now... now that I’ve found you again. I’m tired of this life. This... running. I’m tired of not being able to trust anyone and being alone and getting hurt and taking this disrespect from these men and-“

He shushes her as she speaks faster and grows more upset. “Take a breath baby, you’re fine. You’re with me. Nothin bad's gonna happen as long as I’m with you alright?” He says it and means it, an honesty she meets in his eyes that makes hers well up.

“I know. That’s why I don’t want it anymore. I want you. I want to be with you. I want to have that quiet life where nothing happens. I want to wake up and know we’re safe. Together.” She wraps her arms around him and he holds her tightly. She doesn’t cry but the sting is red on her face.

He stands and considers this confession, one he’s only had in his wildest dreams. While stroking her hair a million scenarios run through his mind. He eventually settles on one. “I’m tired too.”

It’s a simple sentence but it spoke volumes between them. “I have enough money, Javi. Enough for us to be happy somewhere.”

“You want to run?”

She feels the burn of reality in her chest. “I don’t know any other way.”

He looks away into the empty and dark room, hands on her face and stroking her temples. “Fuck…” he exhales. “I don’t either.” He shakes his head before looking back at her burning cheeks. “But fuck me am I tired of this shit too. They’re no better than the men you worked for. They’re all in bed together. There are no “good guys” and “bad guys”. There’s no fucking justice there’s just…”

This time she distracts him by kissing his palm. “I know Javi. I wanted to tell you when we were younger but you believed in it so much. I didn’t have the heart to-“

“I wouldn’t have listened.” He shrugs and watches her eyes pour our decades of apologies.

A long but not heavy moment of silence passes. Decades of memories whirling around, potential possibilities for the future playing out as his hands held her heart-shaped face and studied her. Both older, crinkles in the corner of their eyes and sun spots mixed with the freckles, their faces showed their age but their eyes were 18 again.

“I’m sorry.” She breaks the silence. “For everything.”

“So am I.” Is the best response he can muster.

“Instead of you asking me to stay… I’m asking you to go now. Ironic.” She smiles.

“Timing was never our strong suit.”

“No.” She shakes her head and softly laughs. “We didn’t talk much. Not with our words anyway.” The smiles shifted into a smirk.

“Never had to back then did we?”

“You only had to smile with that baby face and as soon as I’d see that dimple it was over.” She shakes her head in agreement. A rush of new emotions comes over. The happy memories. It was so easy to let the negative eat away at them and replace them. “You’re so much more handsome than I ever thought you could be.” She admits with a fully formed laugh. “Better looking than that scrawny young man I left.” She loves her hands to feel his shoulders and watch the grin spread on his face.

“You’re sweet-talking me now.”

“Well, I have to get you to run away with me. Thought I’d try flattery.”

“All you had to do this whole time baby was show up.” The grin he wore wasn't an exact match to the sentiment but she felt it like a knife. The mood shifts, they both feel it. A weight, but it was comforting. “There’s never been another woman that could even begin to replace what you meant… mean to me. This whole time it’s been you missing. The way only you’ve been able to make me feel and that... that damned beautiful face that makes me want to do anything it asks. It’s not fair on an old man sweetheart.”

“Run away with me. Fuck that job. We’ve taken a lifetime to figure out what we needed. Come with me, Javi. We’ll have that quiet little boring life. Like it should’ve been.”

“How can I say no?”

“I’m hoping you can’t.” She gives him the sweetest smile she can.

“You mean it don't you?”

“You seem surprised.”

“After all this time?” His eyes squint showing his disbelief.

“You are as handsome as you are clueless.” She laughs and reaches up to kiss him again. “I never wanted to leave. I never stopped trying to fill my guilt and regret with money and danger and drugs. Just feeling your hands on me like this right now feels better than anything else ever has. I can’t beat how you make me feel.”

He takes his cue, hands moving to pull her closer. “I can make it feel better, sweetheart.” A lower voice, one that was deep, sends a tremble down her spine. He didn’t sound like that when he was younger.

“You always did like to talk a big talk.”

“And I can walk it now. I’m not a kid anymore Esme. I’m a man.” A stern brow appears and she feels her insides melt. “If you think it was good then... well it was…” he gives that grin that wins women over time after time. “You’re gonna love what I can do now.” With broad shoulders and a strong jaw, he loomed over her, making her feel small in a way she didn’t want to fight against..

“Then stop talkin’ and show me, Javi.” She whispers, a seductive smile on her face. “Show me what I’ve been missing.”

“I can do that… but you’ll never wanna leave again.” He smirks before closing in.

“Make sure I don’t.” She softens for a moment, her hand carding through the almost curls at the nape of his neck. She lets the tension grow, the flirtatious closeness, an intimate sharing of smiles and breath isn’t taken for granted. Something hotter grows in the heat between their bodies, and as she had in the past, she gives him a direct signal to move forward. “We’ve waited long enough, Javi, stop sweet talkin’ and make love to me already.”

Her laugh is broken off by a commanding press against her mouth and his two strong hands moving into her hairline. She feels his smirk fade against her lips, each pass growing more and more urgent. With confident hands, he reaches down to grab her ass, one staying to her jaw. These weren’t the clumsy but enthusiastic hands she recalled. There weren’t short sweet kisses, unsure glances shared as he squeezed his eyes shut and tried not the cum so soon from inexperience. He handled her like a man, and she felt more like a woman than she had in years in his strong grip.

He didn't let up as he moved them to his bedroom his mouth stayed to hers, taking each breath and devouring it, savoring it with a tease of tongue before deepening again. She bit his bottom lip after a light slap to her ass to get her moving in the right direction. He spreads his fingers, handling as much of her body as he could, a hard controlled wobble of her ass cheek, another slap of ownership, not enough to hurt her, but enough to show her how he thought of her as his. Once he had her at the foot of his bed, as much as he wanted to take his time, he also wanted to ravage her and intimately know every inch of her he’d been away from. She kicks off her shoes, lost to the darkness of the room before he hitches her leg up, hand traveling back and forth on her thigh, exposed from the wrapped slit in her dress. His mouth follows where his mind wanders, to her neck to hear her sighs and hums. His hand snakes up the nape of her neck into the thick black hair, a tight fist to gently control her head, holding it back so he could explore the sensitive bend.

A moan from her elicits a response, “You like it like this?” spoken quietly in her ear as he gives her head the slightest yank back.

“Aye.” she sighs, her eyes fluttering back. “I love it.” she whispers, a smile on her face and her long lashes shadowing over her cheeks from her blissed expression.

He makes quick work of making her shudder from the pressure of his lips and tongue on her racing pulse. She let herself enjoy it, not another thought in her head except how it felt with him touching her. It was an abandonment she hadn’t been afforded in decades and the act of letting go had never felt so good before.

His kisses trail her neck, shoulder, making tender work of her scar as he slips her arms out of the sleeves. His hand was fast to her back and one to her naked chest makes him press his forehead to the wound he directly caused. “Fuck me, you’re even more beautiful now aren’t you?” his hand kneads her breast and his mouth moves lower over her exposed top half, the cinch at her waist the only thing keeping them apart now. “I wondered what you’d look… feel like now.” his words a quiet but the low rumble in it, pouring that masculine energy he gave off in waves made her melt in his hands. His hands move to cup her chest, an eager mouth, and open kisses before latching onto her hard nipples and triggering a moan he mirrors enthusiastically. “Now I get this… grown fuckin’ woman, don’t I? Fuck, look at you baby.” She wasn’t the skinny little thing he’d held before. She’d filled out, the years kind to her body from the athleticism they’d demanded. She was strong but soft in all the places he wanted her to be. Perky little tits and a tight ass were now something substantial. Something he could sink his teeth into and he wanted to touch every inch of it.

“Let me see you,” she asks quietly, pulling out of his embrace, dropping her dress to leave her bare. Her hands unbuttoned his shirt, tugging it out of those jeans that fit him just right. “I almost want to keep the jeans on you look so good in them.” she grins and reaches back to grab his ass and he jumps before they entwine again. A soft laugh and an old lover's embrace float them down to the bed together. Mouths and hands explored as she straddled him and felt the breadth of his shoulders and the lean muscle in his arms from work.

He laid back, hands moving over her naked body, taking her in with an open mouth in awe. Her arms knocked her tits together as he played and pinched, making her grind and giggle. With a slow drag of her hands down his chest, the soft fuzz covered his pecks, grew smaller, and flowered out again as her fingers followed the trail, her hands moving to unfasten his belt. “As handsome as you are… I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t most excited about this.” she leans forward and coos as her hand reached into his undone jeans, finding no underwear and considering teasing him for it. Then she remembered she had come to him not wearing any either. She supposes they were both whores and deserved each other. With a breathy indulgent laugh, she leaned forward, hearing him swear as she began kissing him again.

“I thought you loved me for my mind, sweetheart.” They both share a laugh and she bites his bottom lip.

“I love you for a lot of reasons, Javi. This cock has always been one of them.” The thick hair around his base was as soft as she recalled, maybe softer. But he certainly wasn’t. She kisses him through a groan, freeing him and feeling him fully harden in her hand. “Don’t know how you keep this thing in those tight little jeans.” she kisses down to his neck and he smirks, hand in her hair and the other still teasing her nipple.

“Same way I’m gonna fit it in your tight little pussy, baby doll.”

He hadn’t lost that smoothness, a perfected skill that made her bite his throat for making her throb and feel herself get wet and warm between her legs. “Suave.” she coos into his ear before licking the rim of it. “Now show me.” she demands sitting up and rubbing herself against his pulsing cock.

He moves quickly, his body trained and hers willing to submit to him. He sits up to grab her and push her to her back, hair splaying out, her breasts bouncing before heaving from the sudden excitement. There’s a girlish giggle he’d heard before as she watches him, her fingers disappearing between her pussy lips as he made quick work of his jeans and made his way back between her legs. “You’re still impatient.” he grins against her inner thigh, his hand tracing her slit, a bite to her inner knee that turns into a lippy kiss.

“For you.” she lets her arms fall back, biting her lip and watching him with interest.

His fingers find her swollen clit, both his cock and her sensitive bud jump at the touch. “And you still get so wet for me, Esme.” a trail of kissing to her inner thighs, moving lower towards her center makes her shiver. She didn’t have a response with the circling of her clit, the way he spread her knees apart before dipping down to suck the pulsing spot into his mouth.

“Fuck.” she exhales quickly. A compliment if he’d ever heard one. He did know what he was doing. His broad fingers teased her opening, waiting for that tension, that suction that meant not just her mind but her body was ready.

He hadn’t anticipated being the one not ready for the loud moan that left her thrown back head when he filled her with his fingers. One to test, another soon after added, and the trio to finish it was the curl of them inside her as he made her spasming clit even more sensitive with the suction of his mouth and the attention from his tongue.

“Fuck, Javi, don’t make me cum yet.” It was a plea and a chuckle at the same time.

“You think you’re only cumming once tonight?”

“I want the first time you make me cum to be on your cock.”

He hums deeply, “I can’t deny that, now can I?” a kiss to right above her lips before he eases the pace of his fingers and removes them. “C’mere baby.” he leans into her, hard against her slick folds, dragging his hips back and forth, a strong hand on her hip and his mouth firmly attached to hers again.

Her impatience shows, a brief indulgence of the feel of him, velvety against her before she reaches between them and angles him in. Her legs stay back, he's holding himself up on one hand before taking her hand, kissing her fingertips, and taking over himself. He teases her and it’s met to a whine, a pressure against her hole that was aching for him. “Javi, please.” her hips circle as a pout appears on her lips.

“That sounds too good for me to wanna stop, sweetheart.” he grins, knowing he was in control and being indulgent as fuck about it.

“You gonna make me beg?”

That cocky brow raises, rubbing his tip against her clit.

She raises her hips to meet him. “Fuck me, Javi. Don’t make me wait. I’ve waited too damn long already. Fill me up, I wanna cum so hard on that cock.”

He pushes into her to cut her words off, he loved dirty talk but he couldn’t take it tonight. He’d topple over far too fast, so best give her what she wanted. She was right after all, they’d waited too damn long for this. You couldn’t tell who was making what sound at first. Their limbs entwined, her legs around his hips, keeping him in and her nails into his back. He had his face buried into the side of hers, not willing to miss a sound, one hand on her lower back that was arched up off the bed and the other in her hair. He waited, feeling her tighten and then give to him. “That’s a good girl.” he exhales softly in her ear, feeling her whine as her legs fell farther apart for him.

It happens fast for her, something she wasn’t accustomed to. But no man had been him, and she didn’t recall the last time she felt like this, with every muscle aching and reaching for pleasure from someone. She’d never been able to give over, to trust enough to let some in like she did him. The fact that she was sober and feeling like this was something she didn’t even think was possible. She wasn’t usually so submissive, but while he was looking into her eyes, kissing her lips, temples, nose, and forehead while he moved inside her she didn’t want to be anything else but taken care of by him. His body pushed against her just right, her legs wide let him rub against her clit and the spots most effective inside her. “Javi.” it comes out so desperate and he moans into her mouth as she tries to kiss through her rapidly quickening breaths. “It’s so good.” it was rushed out and ended with a squeak of a sound as she first tightened around him, he knew what that meant. “Just like...like that.” water wells in her eyes, feeling it build from the depth of her stomach, a wave builds up into her chest.

He pushed her hair out of her face, looked her over watching the painful pleasure fall over her flushed cheeks, her lips swollen from his kisses, sweat dampening her hairline and he concluded she’d never looked more beautiful than she did like this. “Fuck you feel even better,” he says against her temple, leaving a comforting kiss while she slowly let herself go. “I feel it Esme, let go for me, lemme feel you baby.”

Her fingers turn to claws in his hair and sink into the thick of it and the skin of his back as she gasps his name like a warning. He puts his nose to hers, nuzzling and reassuring and watching her burst into full bloom. There was no high-pitched showiness like ages ago. She knew what she wanted, asked for it, and got it. She knew her body and what felt good and how to make it work.

He got to watch her body move in waves, a subdued but not quiet cycle of moans and swears, her thighs trembling around him, feeling her squeeze and drip and make the deep muscles in his stomach jerk at the white burst inducing pleasure behind his eyelids. Javi loved sex, for so many reasons. But to have sex with someone he loved? It was quickly making the other experiences fade into the background to be forgotten and replaced by every second he spent inside Esme. The sound of her moaning his name like she desperately needed him fogged his mind, her sounds, the whimpers from deep breaths stayed steady and after a shared moment of the most intimate thing someone could share with their bodies, she forced his mouth back to hers, even hungrier than before.

Riding high, feeling her insides soaked and sensitive and each stroke still forcing a moan from her, she holds him close, a bit less submissive now with a clearer head. The kissing grows more heated, nails raking and teeth sinking into skin deeper. “I wanna ride you.” is all she states, and he obeys, pulling her up and situating her, a deep moan as she sinks back down on him, a string of expletives as she finds her footing. “Fuck you’re so deep like this.” her face is more playful, biting her lip and smiling down at him. She lets her hands explore his chest, moving to his neck before he takes her wrist to kiss her palm, his palm on her bouncing chest. He groans, her thumb slipping into his mouth as he gives her a bite and lick, “You’re too god damn handsome.” she grins and shudders from a growing wave. A slap, barely enough to call it that makes him grin as it hits his cheek. He pushes the thumb of his hand he had held hers with into her mouth. She greedily sucks at it, feeling his hips jerk beneath her. He moves it between her legs, targeting her clit and her hips stutter. He’d make her cum again soon and she was almost embarrassed at how easy it was for him to make her. Only she could roll them out like this, but he certainly was right about knowing how to handle a woman.

“You're already close again.” his upper lip almost snarled back as he said it, his prowess he prided himself in but knowing he was making her in particular feel good was cutting off his usual time quickly.

“Fuck you, Javi.” he laughs and slaps her hips, grabbing them and making her move faster.

“Go ahead and run that mouth. See how long you can keep it up while I’m making you cum.”

She gave in with a flutter of eyelids and a whimper as he braced his feet and pounded up into her. “Oh shit.” she cried, a hand on his chest to balance herself, the other absentmindedly on her breast, twisting at her nipple. The higher-pitched moans made their appearance, her mouth open, panting and paced with the slaps of his balls against her ass.

He holds her hip, making her move and she watches him pop his thumb into his mouth before zeroing right back in on her clit again. He feels her tighten back up again, her thighs starting to shake as she tries to push back in time onto him, taking him deeper, feeling him slide into the deepest spaces of her, filling her up, and feeling him up into her belly.

“It feels so fuckin’ good, don’t stop. Cum for me.”

He switches modes, she sees his brow lower, his nostrils flare, a sharp slap to her ass before gritting out “Then fuckin’ ride me, baby girl.”

Planting her hands on his chest, he braces her wrist, other thumb still pushing her over the edge with the way he was pounding into her. She bounces on him, watching his eyes shut from time to time, holding back as she drenched his cock and balls, the wet slap of skin loud in the otherwise quiet room. She moves her hips up and down, in circles, grinding down when he hits her just right, the sheen of sweat is now obvious on both their skin. They were both breathing hard, exertion and excitement weighing heavily on them as they tried to sync up.

“Fuck that’s it,” he grunts, head raising slightly to watch himself disappear in and out of her. “C’mon and give me that pussy. I feel it Esme, fuck, don’t make me wait for it.”

He had never been able to dirty talk when he was younger, perhaps that was why it had such a strong effect on her. Because she did exactly what he asked, and came hard on him again. It was borderline violent, a combination of inner and outer taking over her whole body as their angry expressions matched up, groaning out his name through her clenched jaw, keeping eye contact and making him watch, seeing the mess drip from her as she rose and fell on his cock.

“That its…” is all he gets out, no masculine power tripped words as he came shortly after she did. His hips thrust hard to each pulse of cum that he filled her with. A deep grunt followed each thrust, his brow low as he quickly moved up, sweeping her to him, splayed together still inside her as he kissed her. They came down together, breathing soon normal, mouths still intertwined and hands still exploring curiously. As he moves to kiss her neck, both hands warm on her back she sighs loudly.

“I missed you, Javi.” she whispers, soft from the exertion and orgasms and the way he warmed every part of her he touched. “So much.”

“I’m here now,” he answers with a flick of his nose to hers, scooping her up and rolling them to their sides. He gives her a soft kiss before pulling away, standing, and yanking the covers down. He gives a pat to her bare ass, a signal to move as he then covers her up. As predictable as he could be, he makes his way to the pack of cigarettes in the other room and she gets to warm up and watch his cute ass walk away. “You want one?” he asks, looking down the lit cherry at her, now getting under the comforter with her.

Instead, she reaches over him, grabs one from the pack, and lights it off his, still in his mouth.

“First time you did that I almost came in my jeans.” he grins, taking a drag. “Always thought it was one of the sexiest things you’d ever done.”

“I wanted to show off. Good to know it worked.” she smiles.

There’s silence for a moment as they bask in the quiet of the room, she angled against him and his arm over her shoulders. “Are you gonna stay?” his eyes swing her way, pushing back a wild curl in her face.

“Here tonight or… in general.”

“Both.” he shrugs casually.

“You want me to stay tonight?” an eyebrow raised at him, squinting as she smoked.

“First time for everything.” she’d never watched a girl stay after he called her up. She’d wondered how this would go down but she was continually pleasantly surprised. "No, I don't want you to leave." he states it as obviously as he felt it was.

“What happens when someone sees me leave tomorrow?”

“Who says I’m not leaving with you?” he gives a nod her way. “You said you wanted to leave, right?”

“Yeah.” she answers softly.

“I don’t say things I don’t mean, sweetheart.” his voice demanded respect she already had for him, but after the sex, she was happy to know he hadn’t changed his mind.

“I’ve got enough money. I just have to go back and get it. I’ve got visas and passports for both of us.”

“You work fast.”

“I had to.” she smiles, scooting in closer. “Couldn’t risk wasting time.” her voice is softer, she put her head on his chest. “Do you want to quit your job? Or do you just want to...dissppear?”

“No.” he takes a drag. “I’ll quit first. I don't want them trying to find me. Or you.” his arm swings in and rubs hers to comfort her. “I want to tell them to go fuck themselves anyway.” he grins, amused by the thought. “I can empty my account, well what little’s in it. Packing isn’t exactly a worry for me. Long as I’ve got you with me.”

“You’re a real Cassanova.” she kisses his chest and smiles into the warm fuzz.

“I mean it.”

“I know.” she nods and wraps her arm around him, letting the cigarette land in the ashtray by the bed. “It doesn’t feel real yet, is all.”

He nods, letting his cigarette join yours in the ceramic dust-filled pile. “I’m afraid I’ll wake up and I’ve been dreaming. Or in a coma from being shot.”

“No, it’s real.” she sighs and runs her hand over his healing side. “I’ve fantasized about running, and being with you has been such a pipe dream I can hardly believe you…”

“What?”

“Love me still.”

“Never stopped. I couldn’t. You said you loved me, why’s it so hard to believe I love you too?”

“Because no one has since you.” the answer hurt his chest, he kisses her hair and pulls her into a firm embrace. “I didn’t think I deserved it.”

“Shhh.” he strokes her hair back and keeps his lips to her bare skin. “We're gonna get out, Esme. We’re going to leave this shit behind. Because we have to. We aren’t made for this like we thought. We aren’t like them.”

So that’s how he’d slept at night. Truthfully she’d entertained the denial on occasion too. He was a good man who did bad things. She thought of herself as a bad woman, but if the one person whose opinion she valued didn’t think so, she’d have to change her thinking on the matter. Maybe he was right. They just weren’t cut out for this, and instead of shame for failure, she felt relief for the first time in a long time. “Where do you want to go?” her voice sounded weaker, sleepier now.

“Far away.”

“How are you with cold?”

“What does that mean?” he huffs out a soft laugh.

“I thought someone cold might be nice. Somewhere in Europe. It’s beautiful there. A nice secluded cabin...maybe some dogs.”

“That the European version of a house and picket fence and two kids?” he chuckles. “It’s not what I originally wanted but…” he sighs, “It doesn’t sound bad.”

“What did you want?” she sounded different, he tilts her face up so he can see her eyes.

“What I said I did, sweetheart. You, a home in San Antonio, figured we’d have a couple of hell raisers. Get old and fat together. Spoil the grandkids.”

Her eyes flutter for a millisecond. “You really wanted that?”

“Why are you so surprised?”

“I didn’t know that’s really how you felt. Thought you were just falling in line with what was expected of you back then.”

“I was always sure about wanting you forever.”

“Kids?”

The way she said it answered his question, that’s where the surprise was. “Yeah. You’d keep a kid walking a straight line.” he grins. “Put the fear of God in them.” a laugh builds and he kisses her softly. “Maybe I’m getting soft in my old age. A man gets to a certain age and he starts thinking about these things.”

“I don’t know if I can… have kids at my age.”

“You act like you’re 50 hun.” he dismisses her worry without his tone being condescending. “I’m not asking you for kids, Esme. I’m answering your question. I wanted all of you. The good and bad. Even then.” he touches her chin sweetly. “As long I’ve got you I’ll be a happy man. We have so much time to make up for. Don’t worry that beautiful head about it. We haven’t even gotten out the door yet.” he gives her a lingering, comforting kiss.

“I’m sorry for leaving you.”

“I know you are, baby.” he whispers back.

“I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you.” her eyes were honest, a sincerity he’d not seen from anyone in years.

“Then that’s our plan. Plain and simple.” he seals his promise with a kiss.

“We’ll figure out the rest in the morning?” her eyes looked hopeful again, face nuzzling into his hand that stroked her cheek.

“We’ll figure out the rest together in the morning.”

In the morning they figured it out. It went just as they planned. Plain and simple. Together.

@jaegeeeeer​ @likedovesinthewnd​ @inkededucatednnerdy​  @biharryjames @ladamari68​ @past-romantic​ @weliketomoveit @shikin83​ 

[mattelektras]

I want to know why you didn't like Jessica having a baby? I really don't have an opinion on it because I don't really know the character but maybe it wasn't a good idea to make her a mom.

personally baby stories are almost always a hard no for me like. its just not something that even slightly appeals to me probably because of my irl feelings towards it so thats kind of a me problem. pregnancy creeps me the fuck out physically and theoretically n it always has so i'll try to be objective here

just. why. literally why. what does it add to her as a person who has never shown any interest in having a family and even if they were, ISNT in the position to have one.

why would a woman who goes out every night to fight crime, possible be beaten up a little (miscarriages dont exist) have god knows what happen to them, possibly DIE without anyone knowing, want a kid????? ive seen people explain it with regards to when she was abducted by skrulls and she thought no one cared or noticed she was missing and she just wants someone to need her. and its like. oh thats healthy is it. for her to literally have a whole human depend on her. jess has trauma from so many things and has always been a character whose mental experiences impact her stories and they did not play into this at all. the baby cured all of her issues. thank you so much that does so much for women as a whole. have a baby that'll fix it

the covers were just.... uncomfortable none of these people have ever seen or spoken to a pregnant woman before

your spine queen???? if she straightened up her torso would be like 3 miles long

every cover's only purpose is to exaggerate the stomach like maybe this is my baby allergies again but it feels kind of. fetishy. u know freaks on the internet had a great time w these

how is she this far along and still not wearing maternity clothes like thats not comfortable. i find it hard to believe any pregnant person would just continue wearing normal clothes that visibly dont fit and expose half their stomach

people change when theyre pregnant!!!! ur face gets chubby!!! your boobs get huge!!! all of you gets bloated and u feel gross!!! other than the stomach there is literally NOTHING different about jess. she still has a beautiful face, skinny legs etc etc. which i feel kind of feeds into the fetishy vibe of it all. like they made sure we all know she's still attractive and skinny and sexually appealing. shes got other stuff going on right now. shes growing a whole human. shes not gonna fuck you.

IN ADDITION. the run where it happened, was the run/s that started with the notoriously vile milo manara doing this variant cover

so as a whole i find it hard to believe the creative team would ever be trying to make a point about how pregnant women are strong as fuck and can do shit whilst going through such huge bodily changes. we have to know she's fuckable first and foremost. like yeah of course pregnant women can be sexy but theres a fine line between shes hot!! and whatever the covers for this run were doing. especially when the interior was so adverse to the variants. javier rodriguez is a great artist who depicts women very realistically so what the fuck happened here i genuinely couldnt tell you. the cover is what people see first so to make sure thats sexualised to high heaven says a lot about the motives here. the whole thing started with greg fucking land who is famous for the exact opposite of child bearing hips

and just again on the impracticalities of it all.... she literally gave birth and got up straight away and fought skrulls. absolutely no shot in any universe thats physically possible. infections???? needing stitches??? exhaustion???? honestly marvel writes shit i dont like personally all the time but if they do research and speak to people who k ow what theyre talking about then i cant be mad but this is exactly the opposite. youre telling me there were NO writers who had experience with pregnancy or had experienced it themselves who you could even SPEAK to or ask a question???? it had to be dennis fucking hopeless??? of avengers arena???? THAT dennis hopeless??

tl;dr female superheroes do not exist to have babies solely for drama purposes. the big mystery isnt who the father is. even if she were a character that a baby makes sense for, it literally doesnt matter. the father isnt around. women having kids doesnt revolve around who the father is. it was a deliberate sales gimmick that pretty much just said that the real point of this woman's story is to find out which man impregnated her

[jawabear]

The Reason (Javier Pena x Reader)

Not my GIF

A/N: Hi, I wrote for my baby Javi again. This fic is based on the song “The Reason” by Hoobastank. But, there is no happiness in this fic, I apologise for this, but I think its pretty clear by now that I am only good for writing angst. But regardless, I hope you enjoy it. Sorry for any mistakes. Stay safe.

Genre: Angst 

Warnings: fem!reader, heavy angst, just sadness, Pedro Pascal comes with his own warning

Summary: Javier thinks its time he fixes what he did, but the damage is done.

Javier was never one for love. True love. But he always wanted it. But he was scared of it, but that was normal right? It was normal to be afraid of love. That’s what he kept telling himself. But with that fear came the denial and rejection of anyone who dared to show affection to him. 

Lorraine wasn’t his first love, everyone who knew Javi when he was with her thought that. She was the first one he had “settled with” for longer than three months. But everyone was an idiot to think she was his first and possibly only love. No, there was someone before, during and after Lorraine. 

His true love. 

He doesn’t remember the first time they met. All he does remember is that he fell in love with her right there and then. But a big problem was she was dating someone else at the time. Laredo wasn’t all the big and was certainly not filled with the most attractive people, but somehow she had landed one of the best. He says “somehow” be he knew why, because she was the best. The most beautiful, the most kind, the most amazing woman anyone could ask for. 

The two grew to be good friends. And he was there to comfort her when her then boyfriend dumped her and ran off to New York with his new girlfriend, leaving (Y/N) being heartbroken. He knew that sleeping with her right after her boyfriend had dumped her was not a good idea, even more so because she was his friend, but it happened anyway. It was great, but he regretted every second of it. He felt he was taking advantage of her depressed state for his own needs. Maybe if he hadn’t done that, he would’ve asked her out instead of Lorraine. Because of the immense guilt he felt for using his friend when she was upset, he rejected his love for her, he refused to act on it because he hated what he had done to her. 

And he hurt her.

She felt humiliated because of him. Betrayed even. Until he started to ignore her, she didn’t think of their night together as him taking advantage of her. She welcomed him to do what he did, she wanted it. But she thought he obviously didn’t feel the same. And as he got further and further from her, she began to believe that he did just use her. But her heart still ached for him. She was still desperate for him, for his love, his anything. But he had run off with Lorraine instead. 

And she was heart broken again. 

But he still loved her anyway. Even while he was with Lorraine he loved her. Anytime he would kiss her, hold her, he would imagine (Y/N) instead. It was the only way he would cry each time. But his heart hurt anyway. He didn’t leave her sooner because he had nowhere else to go. 

He didn’t have a mother to run to for comfort, and he couldn’t face (Y/N) again.  So, in a way, he had no choice but to stay with Lorraine. And he knew it was wrong, but he had fucked up everything so far so he may as well continue to ruin everyone’s lives. 

When it came to that fateful day of his wedding, he couldn’t go through with it. He couldn’t continue to live in that torturous lie of pretending he was loving someone else. So he basically abandoned her, he didn’t know if she got to the altar or not but he didn’t really care that day. He had somewhere more important to be.

He drove to (Y/N)’s house. She let him in, all the way. And they did it again. He thought that the second time, it would be better, but he felt just as guilty after that time too. Maybe even more guilty. He hated that she was so willing for him to take her, because he knew he would. 

Javier remembered the day he told her he was leaving to work at the DEA. Directly the day after he had ruined his wedding and come to see her, he told her he was going. And she slapped him round the face and cried. She fell to her knees and sobbed because of him, he went to comfort her but she just pushed him away. She told him that she wouldn’t be there if he ever came back, she told him she never wanted to see him again, but in a way, they both knew that was a lie. 

Since then he felt he had been living in a nightmare. Everywhere he would look he would see her. Every girl he would hook up with, he would pretend it was her. It was dangerous, it was wrong, but he couldn’t stop himself. He was in love with her and he hated it. And everyday he would contemplate calling her, confessing his undying love for her, telling her how sorry he was for everything he had done, but he never did. And he should’ve. 

Because if he had, maybe she would’ve stayed in Laredo. 

Maybe she would’ve waited for him. 

But she was true to her word, she wasn’t there when he got back. 

He had knocked on the door of her old home and was shocked when an elderly lady had opened the door. 

She was polite in answering his question as to where (Y/N) had gone. She told him she had moved to Austin. 

So that’s where Javier found himself. Again, it was wrong, but he had used his contacts in the DEA to track her down. She had moved to a nice neighbourhood. It was small and quiet, very fitting for her. And her new home was nice too. It was cottage like, very pretty. 

He had to hype himself up before knocking on her door, anyone who walked past him must’ve thought him a right idiot. Just hanging around a house, talking to himself, pacing back and forth outside the door as he thought greatly about what he would say to her. 

What would he say to her? 

He couldn’t very well walk up to her and just tell her he loved her, not after the way he left her, the way he hurt her. He should apologise first, tell her just how sorry he was about the way he treated her, then tell her how every girl he was ever with after that he would pretend they were her. But would that be too much for her? To be honest, he didn’t really care. He was prepared to confess about everything to her.

“Javier?” Came a voice from behind him pulling him from his thoughts. He didn’t need to turn around to know who it was, but he had to turn around to look at her again. And when he did, he was quickly reminded of just how beautiful she was. His memory could only serve him so well, it was nothing compared to the real thing.

He felt relieved to see her again, to know that she was okay, and that he had gotten the right place. But she looked far from happy to see him, far far from happy. 

“What are you doing here?” She asked him angrily “how did you even find me?” Javier didn’t like the tone she spoke to him with, it was mean and cold, but he knew that’s what he deserved. He didn’t deserve her warmth, even though he craved it. 

“I-I...” he couldn’t find any words to tell her, he was still in shock at seeing her again after long long years apart. She had gotten even more beautiful which he thought was near impossible. But then again, there were a lot of things he thought were impossible but he was proved wrong by the horrors that he was given down in Colombia. 

“Forget it” She said as she barged past him to unlock her door “just go away” 

“Wait!” He called out to her when he stepped into her home, prepared to slam the door in his face and never reopen it again for him. “(Y/N)...please, I just...I just want to talk” 

“Well I don’t” she told him, she went to close the door but he stopped her by pressing his hand to it, holding it open. 

“I flew all the way out here because I need to talk to you. Come on (Y/N), please” He was begging her at this point. He noticed her expression shift, she was always too lenient with people, she was always too kind, even to those who had wronged her like Javier had.

(Y/N) sighed angrily and stepped to the side to allow him inside. It was very much her, she had decorated it exactly how she always told him she would. There were times when they would often talk about their futures, she would often speak of her dream house, how she would decorate it and paint it and make it most definitely hers. And it was. He was happy she had finally achieved her dream, he just wished he could’ve been there when she did it. 

“What do you want?” She asked him as she plopped down on to the sofa, crossing her arms angrily over her chest. He cautiously sat in the arm chair opposite her, it was comfortable, that chair that is, the stare she was giving him was not.

What did he want? 

Originally, he had wanted her back. He wanted to be with her again. He wanted to tell her he was sorry and that he loved her. But seeing how angry she was, made him realise that that future was just a ridiculous fantasy. There was no way she would ever take him back. She hated him. She hated very few people, but he guessed that he was at the top of her short list. And he didn’t blame her. His list of people he hated was long, and he was at the top of that one too.

“I-I don’t know...” he admitted quietly as he looked down.

“So you flew all the way out here for nothing then?” She told him. He guessed she was right. His plan had fallen apart, he really had travelled all that way for nothing, but at least he had seen her again. 

“I guess...I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry. And I know it means shit to you but...” here goes nothing “every fucking day I was down there all I could think about was you, every...every girl I was ever with I pretend they were you because I fucking in love with you, I have been since we met. I was in love with you whilst I was with Lorraine, I couldn’t marry her because I couldn’t keep pretending that she was you, I couldn’t keep hurting her like that. That’s why I came back to you. But I felt so fucking guilty from the first time we slept together that I couldn’t enjoy it. And then I fucked off to be some sort of hero, I only made things worse. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry for hurting you, I never meant to. I never wanted to hurt you, I never wanted to hurt anyone, but I’ve hurt everyone, and there’s nothing I can do about that....” he stopped talking and still stared at the ground, his heart was pounding against his chest and his blood seemed to run cold. 

There was a thick and painful silence over the two of them for a while as she took in his words, he regretted saying them, he regretted it all, he regretted coming here. 

“...did you think I was just going to forgive you for what you did?” She asked him, her voice sounded pained, and they stabbed into him like knives, but again, he deserved it. “Did-Did you think you were just going to...come in here and tell me you love me and that you’re sorry and that I would forgive you? That I would tell you the same?”

Yes. “N-No...I didn’t...” he mumbled.

“Good,” she nodded “because I’m not. And you may think you were doing the right thing by coming here and telling me the truth, but I preferred not knowing, because now I’m going to have to carry the weight of knowing that every girl you’ve fucked since meeting me was used as a substitute for me. Do you understand how wrong that is? You used all of those girls, you used Lorraine, all because you didn’t have the fucking balls to tell me how you felt! What the fuck is wrong with you?!” She yelled to him.

Now he knew the extent of how badly he had fucked up. She never yelled, she never raised her voice to anyone, him least of all. But how the tables had turned. 

Javier didn’t say anything, he didn’t know what to say to her. What could he say? Nothing he said would ever make her forgive him, she made that pretty damn clear. It was a waste of time. 

“I think you should leave..” she said after a short moment of silence, her voice a lot quieter than it had been “before my fiancé gets home...” 

“You’re getting married?” He whispered as he looked up at her. Those words had stopped his heart, he had lost her, officially.

“Yes” her answer was simple and short. He didn’t need, nor did he want any more details than that. 

He stood from the chair and made his way over to the door, she didn’t move, but he could let himself out. But he wanted to linger in her life for as long as possible.

“I know you don’t believe it,” he began, his hand resting on the door handle “but my love for you has made me a better person now. And I wish I could take away all the pain I gave you, but I hope he does instead. And I hope you know you’ve changed me, and I hope he makes you happy...happier than I ever could”

She didn’t respond to his words. She looked away from him and he took that as his cue to leave her life for good. It was for the best, for both of them. The heartache and pain would come to an end and maybe they would be happy.

But as he left her home, her life, walking down the nearly empty street of her neighbourhood, he couldn’t help but think, but know, she would always, always be his one true love.

Masterlist

24/07/20

[the-awkward-outlaw]

Hi! I love your works and I was wondering if you could write something about a new "lost soul" saved by the gang and trying hard to fit in. A reserved female reader who secretly develops feelings for Arthur, knowing well he has no interest in getting involved with anybody. A good ol' heart-wrenching, I-will-pine-from-a-distance-and-suffer-in-silence kind of unrequited love. Ending is up to you (but maybe it's a happy one

This one turned out sweet. Arthur’s the biggest softy. That said, FLUFF AHEAD!

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You look around nervously, not sure you’re entirely in the right place. Everything’s changed so quickly, it’s hard to process. Sure, you’ve heard endless tales of gangs and outlaws, living wild and free, but you never knew the gritty details about any of it. Now here you are, living it. 

You ended up here with the Van der Linde gang because your life has a funny habit of putting you in the wrong place at the wrong time. You’d been on the train two days ago, and it got robbed by a gang. As they were busy killing the engineer and the conductor and going through everyone’s possessions, a man you’ve come to know to be named as Arthur rode by and killed the bastards. You sank to your knees in fright, afraid you’d be killed too. 

As you sobbed into the grass, your hero dismounted and comforted you. When you explained that you had no home, nowhere to go and nothing to return to, Arthur offered you to come with him. You accepted, of course, you just found yourself incapable of saying no. He put you on the back of his horse and rode down south of Blackwater and into a small hideout called Thieves Landing. 

You’ve never been here before, your parents told you as a child to avoid the place as though it had the plague. Everyone south of the Upper Montana knew it was where criminals hid and because of its layout, it was hard for the law to take. 

It was here that Arthur told you his gang was hiding out in and that you were welcome to stay until you got your life sorted. An older woman named Grimshaw immediately jumped on you and started barking orders, despite you being completely dumbfounded and confused. 

It’s been two days since you were brought in, but you’re not entirely convinced you’re fitting in all that well. The gang’s big with at least twenty members. All of them, even the women, have a track record. The only one who’s as innocent is a child named Jack, but the rest have done something to earn them at least a few days in jail, but most have earned even the noose should they ever get caught. 

It’s not a comforting idea exactly, but already you can see how tight-knit they all are. There’s a sense of family here, the likes of which you’ve never had the fortune of experiencing. While in the day, Grimshaw barks and even nips, at night she turns pleasant, making sure everyone gets a plate to eat and singing songs around the campfires. 

She’s not the only one to let down their hair at night. Most of everyone does, telling stories about things that have happened or singing songs. You especially liked it last night when a young man named Javier sat down and played his guitar, singing in Spanish. Being from down south yourself, you were used to hearing his native tongue though you understood none of the words. It was still pleasant to hear. 

“So, how’s you adjustin’?” asks the young girl next to you as you scrub at a shirt in the wash bin with a rather stubborn spot that doesn’t want to come out. She’s got brown hair and she’s wearing a faded purple dress with a rather pretty necklace. 

“I… I think I’m okay. But… Mary-Beth, isn’t it?” you say. She nods. “Can I be honest with you?” She nods again. “I really don’t fit in here. Not because you’re criminals and I’m not, it’s just… I have nothing to offer anyone. I don’t know how to steal, shoot a gun. Hell, I can barely ride a horse.” 

“And that’s okay,” Mary-Beth says with a small smile. “You can learn how to do those things. I’m more than happy helpin’ ya, and I bet the other gals will too.” 

“Not only that, but we can always use another girl,” Grimshaw snarls, stomping over to you both. “Now get to work, both of ya!” She marches away to go bully Tilly. 

“Don’t worry about Ms. Grimshaw,” Mary-Beth says when the woman’s out of earshot. “She likes to act tough, and sometimes she can be a little too forceful, but she does care.”

“That’s to be debated,” says Karen, walking over with a repeater in her hand. She must have just finished with guard duty. “That ol’ bat wouldn’t give a damn if we was all on fire, long as we’re workin’.” 

Mary-Beth gives a little giggle, but Karen walks off to go and talk with a red-haired man. Because Thieves Landing is so large, you’re still learning the names of the members of the gang. You’ve kept your ears open though, wanting to learn about these people, see how the other side of society works. 

Growing up, you never had many friends, always being very shy. At school, you were bullied a lot for reasons you couldn’t understand. Your parents tried to help you but there was little they could do aside from pulling you out of the school and teaching you themselves. They didn’t know much about math or science though, so they taught you what they knew: how to ranch and garden. 

When you were about ten, your father got sick and died. A few weeks later, your mother, who had contracted his illness, died too. You ended up at your uncle’s house, but he was such an abusive, angry drunk you just left one day when you were 15. You’ve been on your own since, jumping from one job to the next. You were between them when you were on that train a couple days back, when Arthur found you. 

As you sit and work, you smile as you think of your father. He used to tell you many stories, but your favorites were those about gunslingers and outlaws. Something about them seemed romantic and fantastical, the way they represented the idea of freedom, of never being tied down. You never thought you would be incorporated into a gang of them as an adult. 

A few hours later and you hear the somewhat familiar voice of the camp cook Pearson shouting that dinner’s ready. You sigh in relief, knowing that dinner signals the end of the day’s work and you can relax. The past two nights you’ve spent alone on your bedroll, being too shy to mingle, but as you stoop to collect your stew, you wonder if you can muster the courage to change that. 

Several of the gang has gathered around a large campfire to talk over dinner. There’s an empty seat, but it’s right next to Arthur Morgan. Sure, he’s the man who brought you here, but you feel especially unimportant next to him. He’s a big guy, much taller than yourself, broad, handsome. The girls told you he’s got a very rough exterior but secretly harbors a heart of gold. However, it wasn’t until you found out he holds some of the greatest weight in camp that made you shy around him. 

A hand pats you on the back, making you jump a little. Turning, you see Grimshaw. 

“Go on, have a seat, dear. You’ve earned it.” 

Unable to say no to her, you walk over and take a hesitant seat next to Arthur, hunching down a little. He doesn’t seem to notice as he’s listening to a man named Hosea tell a story about how he’d nearly been busted for robbing a house during a wake but how he’d managed to act his way out of being caught. It’s a rather funny story and as the others laugh appreciatively, you feel yourself relaxing. That is until Hosea’s story ends and he asks you a pointed question. 

“How are you settling in, miss?” 

You hate being brought out in the spotlight like this and it doesn’t help that Arthur, sitting so close, turns to look at you, his expression neutral. 

“Oh, I’m… I’m doing okay, thank you. Mary-Beth said she can teach me how to rob people, so I’m hoping I won’t be so useless to you anymore soon.” 

“No one’s complaining about you being useless,” says a man named John, sharpening his knife on a whetstone. “When you start bein’ as useless as Uncle, then we’ll have a problem.” 

“Hey, I work!” complains the man in question. 

“Really? When was the last time you lifted a finger ‘round here, ol’ man?” Arthur challenges. The group happily begins to bicker, but you’re grateful as it’s pulled their attention off of you. 

As the days pass, you begin to hear people in the gang beginning to talk about a big score. A member named Micah came in to bring the idea of a big river boat to the gang’s leader Dutch. From what you can make of Dutch, he’s a clever, calculating man who cares deeply for his family. Mary-Beth and Tilly told you how he and Hosea took both Arthur and John in as their sons despite not being much older themselves. They formed this gang together and it’s stayed strong. 

Ever since Micah brought in the potential job, the gang’s been humming with excitement. It seems to be a very big score and will need a lot of help for it to work. You’d like to volunteer, to contribute something, but you know you’re utterly useless right now. Mary-Beth’s only begun to explain the basics of robbing to you. However, this job sounds like it’s to come with a guaranteed gunfight. 

The day for the heist arrives and pretty much every man in the gang goes to do it. A few hours later, they return to Thieves Landing bearing bad news. Somehow the law knew the boat was going to be hit and they met the gang with fierce opposition. Poor Jenny, whom you’d just started to get to know, was shot and so was Davey and John. Dutch and Hosea start shouting for everyone to get packed up as the Pinkertons are in pursuit. 

Days go by and Thieves Landing is far behind you and the others. The gang has moved north, still trying to shake the Pinkertons off. Jenny passed away two days ago, but no one has been able to bury her as a massive snowstorm moved in shortly after she passed. 

Moral is at an all-time low, yours included. You wouldn’t dream of leaving though, these people have become your close friends and even border on something like a family. Grimshaw tries to encourage everyone to stay positive, but it’s clear she doesn’t feel it much either. 

Night falls once again as the wagon train goes along a narrow pass, the horses trudging through the thick snow. The weather has stayed horrible for days, dumping the white powder in great heaps. The Pinkertons haven’t been seen in the past two days. Perhaps this means the gang can finally find somewhere to hide. Dutch sent Arthur out a few hours ago to scout, along with John and Micah. 

Arthur returns just as Abigail makes note that Davey is nearly dead. He reports that he found a place to shelter and guides the train there. It’s a small town named Colter according to a small sign by the main trail. The gang moves into the largest building but Abigail says Davey’s passed. Soon after, Dutch and Arthur go out to find what else might be around and they end up bringing back a heartbroken woman named Sadie. 

Two days go by and the weather’s hardly let up. You stand outside in the freezing, snowy morning. You just need a break from the others for a while. Even though you enjoy most of them, being cooped up in such tight quarters for so long has worn you out. However, you’re already shivering from the cold under all your layers. 

“You doin’ okay? Ya look half frozen,” a voice says from behind. You turn and see Arthur, wrapped up in his big blue coat, his face hidden beneath his hat. 

“Yeah. Yeah, just need a break. Been a tough few days.” 

“It sure has.” Suddenly a fierce blast of wind whistles down the path and Arthur wraps an arm around you as though to protect you from it. As you lack a hat and your head’s covered only by a thin blanket, you bury your head into his chest. He lets you though, but as soon as the wind dies a little you pull away from him, your face red. You blame it on the cold wind. 

However, something changes with your view of Arthur. Sure, you’ve seen him comforting most people in the gang and he’s known for being caring and gentle, interested in all movements in the gang. But you were never a receiver of that care until now. You try denying your feelings, saying you’ve just been isolated for too long. 

Nearly a week goes by and you’ve tried keeping distance between yourself and Arthur, believing your feelings will cool down with the space. The weather finally breaks and Hosea suggests camping in a new place he knows in the Heartlands. The gang is moved into action finally and the wagon train moves down to it. 

It’s a great relief to finally be surrounded by trees and green rather than white and feel the warm sun instead of cold wind. The new camp spot, Horseshoe Overlook, is beautiful. Immediately you’re set to work by Grimshaw, but when night falls, you’re allowed to rest. 

You stand on the edge of camp near the cliff, overlooking the river and the canyon. This place is beautiful. You’ve rarely seen this much moving water, being from the desert. Arthur walks over with two bowls of stew. 

“Here, noticed you ain’t eaten yet.” He hands you one and you thank him. 

The two of you stand together, eating without speaking for a few moments. 

“So, now you been with us a while and seen us at our best and worst,” Arthur says, “what you thinkin’ of doing?” 

“How do you mean?” 

“I mean what you plan on doin’? You gonna stay or you thinkin’ of movin’ on? No one would blame you if you decided to leave.” 

“Do you… want me to leave?” you say with a pang. 

“No. No, far from it. I think you could easily find a place among us. Seems like you already have too. Pretty much everyone here likes ya.” 

You blush a little and look away. “I think I wanna stay. I like it here.” 

He smiles a little, his blue eyes shining. You feel a surge of desire to hug him, your heart beating a bit faster. “Well, good. Like I said, think you’ll fit in easy.” 

He takes your empty plate and heads off, leaving you alone. You turn and watch him, wanting nothing more than to be with him. Part of you wishes he’d come back to you, but he heads off to sit next to John and Hosea at the campfire. You turn back to watch the sunset, trying to push him out of your mind. It won’t do you any favors.

The next morning, you’re sitting with the other girls doing chores. Mary-Beth turns to you. “So, saw you blushing when Arthur said good mornin’ to you.” She gives you a sly look. 

“I… I thought I had to sneeze right when he spoke to me,” you lie. 

“It’s okay if you like him,” she says consolingly. “To be honest, I think we all developed a little thing for him in the beginning. I did anyways.” 

“I’d be lyin’ if I said I didn’t,” Tilly says. “But, do yourself a favor, Y/N. Move on from him. I ain’t sayin’ that out of selfishness or cruelty, but Arthur’s unavailable.” 

“I didn’t know he had someone,” you say sadly. 

“Well, he doesn’t anymore, but he can’t seem to move on from her,” Mary-Beth explains. 

As if on queue, Arthur walks out of his tent, reading a letter. Susan walks up to him and they exchange words. You hear the name Mary and Susan tells him she never liked her. He says something to her and then heads out. 

“And there he goes, off to see her,” Karen says sourly. “She barely has to say his name and he’ll move mountains to see her.” 

Your heart sinks even further. You’d just begun to accept the fact that you have some strong feelings for Arthur, but this is a harsh blow. If he’s still attached to this woman, it means he’s definitely not interested in you. It’d be best if you give him up. 

Night comes and Arthur’s returned. Once again, he brings you a plate of food as you stand near the cliff. A long silence passes between the two of you, your mind heavy. 

“You okay? Awful quiet,” he says. 

“I’m doin’ just fine, Arthur, thank you though,” you say somewhat coldly. You mentally make a note to be a little nicer. It’s not his fault you’ve got a crush on him. 

“You sure? If ya need to talk, I’m always willin’ to listen. I want ya to be happy.” 

God, why does he have to be so sweet yet so unavailable? It’s incredibly frustrating. You turn to him. 

“Well, maybe you can help. Have you ever had real strong feelings for someone? Someone you couldn’t be with because you know they’d never want to be with you, and because they’re hung up on someone else?”

He gives you a curious look. “Who you talkin’ about?” His face falls a bit. “It’s John, ain’t it? You got a thing for him, don’t ya?”

Is that envy in his eyes? “J-John? No, Arthur, I don’t have a thing for John. Sure he’s nice and funny, but he’s not my type. Plus I think Abigail would murder anyone who tried anything with him.” 

His face lightens up a bit. “I think you’re right there. Well, I don’t know much about relationships. Pretty useless, in fact.” 

You smile up at him. “Well, thought I’d ask.” 

“Who is this person?” he asks. “Anyone I know?” 

“Definitely. He’s… someone in this gang, but like I said, he’s emotionally unavailable. Besides, I wouldn’t stand a chance with him.” 

“Ah, don’t sell yourself short.” He sighs a little. “Well, maybe you just need to walk up to this feller, tell him exactly how you feel.” 

“Okay. Arthur, I like you.” 

“Exactly. Just like that.” He smiles. “See? It ain’t so hard.” 

“No, Arthur, you’re not listening to me,” you say, your face beat red. “I said I like you.” 

He blinks and straightens up a bit. He looks shocked. Or maybe that’s anger. Fear stings your stomach and you take a step back. 

“I… I’m sorry. I was… just practicing.” You turn to walk away, deciding never to be alone with Arthur again. You can’t blame him for being angry either. You wouldn’t like you if you were him. 

“Y/N, wait.” His hand’s on your shoulders. “Did you mean it?” 

You look down at your feet. “I’m sorry, Arthur. I didn’t choose to like you, and I’m sorry for it. Not because you’re not a good man,” you say hastily at the look on his face. “What I meant is I’m sorry for… me.” 

His eyes soften considerably. “Please don’t apologize. Especially for you bein’ yourself. Can I tell you a secret?” He leans in a little and whispers, “I’ve liked ya since that day up in Colter.” 

You blush even deeper. “Me too.” 

His arms suddenly slide around you, hot and gentle. Your hands are on his shoulders and he leans down, placing his lips on yours. Something flutters in your chest. It’s like a bird is trapped inside, fighting to get out. They’re slightly chapped, but the moment his lips touch yours, the bird settles and gives a satisfied purr. You lean into the kiss, sighing a little. 

“Bout time you two finally did somethin’,” Hosea says, walking past. He gives you both a sly smile. “Dutch and I been gettin’ tired of seeing you two gettin’ all dovey eyed when the other wasn’t looking.” 

You laugh and put your forehead onto Arthur’s chest, trying to hide your face as Arthur laughs. 

“Sorry, Hosea.” 

“Nah, you two kids have fun.” He walks off, chuckling a bit. Arthur looks down at you and smiles. 

“You wanna go somewhere a little more private? Try that kiss where we won’t be spied on?” 

You bite your lip and smile, nodding. Arthur takes your hand and leads you off into the trees. You pin him to a tree and kiss him hard, pressing your body on his. His arms slide up your back and wind into your hair. As the kiss deepens, you wonder where else this night will go. 

[loudsuitlover]

Doctor Harry X. Corto

A/N: This is just for those who care about The Golden Girls’ story too :) Thank you to everyone who reads and for the feedback. I really appreciate it! 

J hangs the towel I let him on the line I set on my balcony. I set it myself because there’s something so comforting and relaxing for me about watching clothes hanging from the line. I think it reminds me of my Nana because she always seems to have something on the line. That’s crazy, really, because there was just my Nana and my Papa so it’s technically impossible that they had washing every day but that’s what I remember. It’s just costumbrist and I like it.

With his short blond hair still wet he takes a seat in front of Coco and me. He told us both the story between sobs and fits of crying on the way home. The bastard of David had dumped him forty minutes away by car from Grad because Jason told him he had gotten an acceptance letter from a hospital in New York. It’s for an internship in the summer, two months in New York learning Medicine. And the bastard, instead of being happy and proud, threw him out of the car. I’ve tried to keep it together and not tell him I’ve planned nine different ways of killing David and get away with it. He probably doesn’t need to hear that now. His green eyes are still bloodshot from all the crying but his breathing is back to normal. The warm shower did him good. He smiles when his eyes finally set on us.

“Thank you, guys, really. I don’t know what would have been of me without you girls.”

“Marie would have gone pick you up.” I tell him.

He smiles and nods but the smile doesn’t reach his eyes.

“How are you feeling?” Coco asks.

Jason gives her a look before he sighs and shrugs.

“Embarrassed.” He confesses. “And silly and humiliated.”

“What are you going to do now?”

“I’m going to break up with him, obviously.” He raises his eyebrows at my question. “I mean I’m not even sure we’re still together. I should have told him about the internship sooner.”

“What?” I can’t believe him. “That has nothing- absolutely nothing to do with what he did. What he did was wrong and he’s sick. I mean, even if you had told him something wrong, which you didn’t, but even if you had told him- I don’t know that you had cheated on him- it doesn’t justify that he fucking dumped you in the middle of the highway, J!”

“I know. I’m not saying that.”

“You’re justifying him! Again!”

“I’m not!” He yells.

I know Coco is uncomfortable by the way she’s sunk down on her chair but I don’t care. Jason needs to hear this.

“Yes, you are! You keep trying to turn him into this guy he’s not!”

“You don’t know him, Indie!”

“That’s right! He doesn’t let us! He keeps trying to take you away from us! I mean what kind of boyfriend doesn’t try to get involved into his partner’s life! He’s never even tried to talk to me.”

“Well he knows you have an opinion.”

“Of course I have an opinion! He’s a violent abuser!”

“He suffered a lot when he was a child! Do you know what it’s like to be abandoned by your dad? No, you don’t!” He cuts me off when I’m about to talk. “And he’s good, he just has a bad temper and anger issues but he’s trying to get better, okay?”

“Is he? Is he even going to therapy?”

“He doesn’t believe in therapy…”

I chuckle a mad laugh of crazy woman.

“That’s what they all say, J. Abusers justify their abuse with a dark past and they made you feel sorry for them so they can still hurt you over and over. He’s manipulating you, can’t you see it? You have to take that idea of your mind that you’re going to fix him because you won’t! He needs help, professional help, and you can’t give him that. I’ll tell you more, you’re perpetuating his toxic behaviour by allowing it.”

“That’s rich coming from you. You’re just projecting Javier on him, but David is not Javier, Indie.”

“Yes, he is! And I know because you’re doing all the things I used to do! Don’t you remember? You told me to break up with him a thousand times and I didn’t because I loved him and I also thought he was good deep down because he could be sweet too but that was only him being manipulative too… And I thought he would change for me too, that he loved me… But… It’s not your responsibility to try to help someone who keeps hurting you. Moreover, you can’t even do it. This is dangerous for you and for him.”

“Don’t even try to pretend like you care about him.”

“Of course I don’t. I care about you. And I’m not happy with what happened to you today, Jason” I start seeing him blurry until I can’t see him anymore and so I wipe my tears away with my hands. “But you need to break up with him, he’s no good for you or for anyone and he needs to get his shit together. What he did to you today was sick, J. You cannot forgive that.”

I feel his arms wrapping around me before I take my hands away from my eyes. And he rests his chin on top of my head like he had done so many times before. JJ’s always been there for me. He was there when Dylan died and he was there during his funeral and during all the months that follow that seemed to be my own slow, never-ending funeral; and then he was there for me every time Javier would do something twisted and when I left him too. I wrap my smaller arms around his broad back and rest my ear against where his heart is, feeling that old familiar heartbeat.

“I love you, Indie.”

“I love you too.”

“Aww.”

Jason laughs and tilts his neck to see a teary Coco. My sister is so emotional all the time, just like my Mum. I feel his chest rumbling when he laughs.

“Get in here, Coconut.”

She smashes her face against mine and from the corner of my eye I can see her smiling with her eyes closed. She loves a hug, too.

We hear my Mum’s laughter before we hear our friends coming. She walked with them towards my wing.

“Baby, the girls are here.” She says on the door. “Coco and I are going out but order something for dinner for you guys.”

It’s not strange for me that my mum speaks English to me. Usually we speak Spanish but she always says she remembers how she felt when her English wasn’t that good and she would hear my dad’s family speak English and laugh but wouldn’t understand much. She says she doesn’t want our friends to feel like that. 

“What time is it?”

I haven’t checked my phone all day.

“It’s 4 pm, honey.” She smiles. “Are you high?”

I roll my eyes at her and she giggles. She knows I’m not. Coco kisses Jason’s cheek before she gives a quick hug to Ollie and Marie and follow my mum outside.

“Hasta luego, Blue.” 

“Bye, doofus.” My sister grins as she leaves.

Despite being twenty years old, sometimes she acts like she’s twelve.  Marie and Ollie fight like a married couple about who locked the door when they went out before Ollie deploys an army of candy and junk food on the table. Jason looks at them amused.

“We brought the break up kit.” Olivia smiles.

“Because we’re breaking up with David Dick, aren’t we?”

My eyes widen at Marie and Olivia kicks her feet “discreetly”. Marie’s lips part and her eyes widen in horror of her realization too.

“Is that how you guys call him?” Jason tries to keep a straight face but the three of us see his hidden smile.

“You did say he had a big dick.” Ollie shrugs.

“And he’s a dick.” Marie adds.

Jason finally bursts out laughing. And the three of us join him before Olivia motions for us to hug him and the three of us surround him like he was an oak tree and we were trying to get positive energy.

Then the four of us sit on the table and eat chocolates and lollies without even realizing Jason and I haven’t even had lunch. Jason tells Ollie and Marie the full story and the two of them tell him David’s such a jerk and that not him neither anyone deserves that kind of treatment.

“Anyway what happened last night with Mario?” Jason asks Ollie.

I tilt my neck slowly so I’m facing my friend and she avoids my eyes looking down at the liquorice she’s eating. The last time we talked Mario was Mario who? and had clumsy hands. I suck my lips inside my mouth trying to hide my smile.

“So?”

“We didn’t have sex.” Ollie blushes.

“What?” The three of us ask in unison.

“It didn’t go well?” Jason asks.

“Wait, I need some context!”

“Right, you weren’t there.” Jason’s eyes widen.

“Mario came with Harry. Apparently they were together in O’Clock so when Harry said he was going Mario asked if he was going to see you and he said yes because apparently Harry’s got verbosity” Marie tells me and I chuckle. He really does sometimes. “And so he tagged alone in case you were with Ollie. Isn’t that romantic?” Marie looks at me like the heart eyed emoji and I smirk.

“But you were talking to that guy.” I interrupt.

“Well, we stopped talking.” She shrugs. “I don’t know what’s going on with your lips, Indie.” She points out all my hidden smiles. “But yeah then he came, we were drinking we danced, we kissed and I went home with him.”

Maybe he really does have clumsy hands and that’s why they didn’t have sex but then why is she leading him on?

“It didn’t go well after you left?”

“It was perfect.”

“Then?”

“It didn’t happen.” She shrugs.

There’s something going on with Mario for Ollie to act this way. I’ll ask Harry. Mario and Harry are friends and Harry’s nosy beyond believe. He’ll tell me.

“And you?” I ask Marie.

“What about me?”

“The redhead.” I smile.

“He burped.” She pouts as her eyebrows frown like Emile Clarke’s. 

We all burst into laughter but she keeps pouting despite her growing smile.

“And you can’t judge me because you dumped Álvaro for no reason and he was so cute.”

“And Spanish.” Olivia adds.

Jason celebrates Álvaro’s nationality too and I roll my eyes. I don’t care that he’s Spanish. I mean I like meeting Spanish people because they remind me of my mum’s heritage and I can speak Spanish to them but there’s nothing else you know about a person if you know they’re Spanish. I mean you know where they were born. That’s it. Then for what is worth, every person is their own person.

“But you left with Harry, didn’t you?” Olivia’s eyes widen.

“Wait were you with Harry when I called in the morning?”

I nod.

“Shit, dude, I’m sorry! I didn’t know. I thought you guys had cut things off.”

“Yes, but a leopard never changes its spots.” Olivia shrugs.

I roll my eyes. My eyes set on Marie and I can read her disapproving expression.

“He offered to drive to get you in the morning.” I defend him. “And he…” 

I was about to tell them about how he showered me with compliments but I decide that should stay between us. I don’t have to prove anything about him to Marie or to anyone else for that matter. 

“That was sweet of him.”

Thinking about Harry makes me think I haven’t checked my phone all day. Maybe I should call him? Let him know everything’s fine? But what am I thinking? That he’s going to be waiting for me to tell him about my adventures with The Golden Girls? I blush at the idea.

“You’re not falling for Harry, are you?”

“What?” I frown. “No! Of course not! He’s such an idiot!”

Because he is. Sometimes. When he guesses things about me assuming I’m a posh bitch or when he tells me I have many flaws or when he pulls away for no better reason after confusing me with affection. Plus, he’s said it himself; it’s just sex.

“If only you felt something for him…” Marie adds.

Her words shock me.

“What?”

“Well if you were dating maybe the rest of doctors wouldn’t look down on you as bad as they will when they know about you two.”

“They won’t know.”

“They will too.”

“Does Harry burp, Indie?” Jason changes the topic, God bless him, and the three of us chuckle.

“Not in front of me, no.”

“But anyway I didn’t know about this redhead, Marie.” Jason wiggles his eyebrows but she just rolls her eyes.

“There’s nothing to know, Jason.” She sighs and rests her chin on her hand. “I need love, not burps.”

“You need to stop thinking your prince will arrive on a white horse and fuck some guy so you’ll forget about it.” Olivia tells her.

I laugh at her cheekiness.

“What Olivia’s trying to say” I correct “is that being single is also fun. You don’t need to have a boyfriend, Marie; but maybe your obsession with finding love is overshadowing it?”

Maria shakes her head.

“No, it’s not that. I know I don’t need a man but I just… I want to be in love, you know? And I want someone to love me. I’m tired of being alone…”

I give her a sympathetic smile.

“Don’t lose hope, Marie Anne” Olivia wraps an arm around her shoulders and rest her cheek on top of her head “it’ll come.”

“Love?”

She looks up at Olivia, confused that our less romantic friend says that. To be honest, I’m confused too.

“No, sillyhead, mind-blowing sex.” The three of us laugh. “Like the one Indie has with Harry.”

I chuckle and roll my eyes. She’s such an idiot. I don’t know why I’m laughing.

“Did you know he’s from Bellamond?” I tell them.

The three of them look at me with wide eyes and I tell them the little I know about him. Jason hands me my phone over.

“Talking about the devil…” He smirks.

I’ve never replied faster to a text. 

Harry: How’s your friend?

Indie: A lot better, thank you.

“Look at that smile!” Jason teases and I swat him away playfully.

Indie: Thanks for asking.

Harry: No problem 😊 And you? How are you?

Indie: I’m good thanks

Harry: My blunt Indie

Indie: I’m not yours.

Harry: haha you’re so curt is even funny

Indie: I’m sorry I didn’t text you back before. I’ve been with my friends all day.

Harry: No problem.

Harry: What are you doing now?

Indie: We’re just hanging at my house

Harry: Would you like to have a drink?

Indie: All of us?

Harry: I mean it’s you I want to see but they can come too

“Aw, he’s adorable!”

When I lift my head from my phone, I see my three friends are behind me reading my texts. I blush and bring my phone to my chest covering the screen.

“Guys, you’re the worst!”

Jason stands up and walks towards my room. He comes back with his shoes on his hands.

“Tell him we’re coming and ask him for the location.”

“Yay!” Marie throws her head back. “Indie, do you have lipstick?”

“But you bite your lips a lot and stain your teeth!” Olivia reminds her.

“But what if Harry has a cute friend? Or what if the waiter is cute?”

Jason rolls his eyes and Olivia and Marie disappear on my bathroom in the search for my lipsticks.

“Are you sure you want to go?” I ask him.

“Damn right.” Jason smiles. “It’d only do me good.” He shrugs. “Plus we can’t leave your man like that.”

“Harry’s not my man.”

“Whatever.” He chuckles.

Indie: Where are you?

Harry: Cahoot

The pub is dark like the ones Jason likes and there’s quite a lot of people inside but it’s not suffocating. I spot Harry straight away. He’s leaning his elbow on the bar and is talking to Mario who gives us his back. I look at Ollie and find her talking to Marie and doing a scan of the bar, surely looking for possible prince charming for the brunette.

I wonder how I’m going to greet Harry. Should I give him a hug? Or a kiss? Or shake hands? His grin widens when he sees me as I reach him in the bar.

“Hello, Indie.”

I smile back. Okay so no hug, no kiss, no handshake.

“Hi there, Indie!” Mario seems happier to see me than Harry himself.

“Hi, Mario. How are you?”

“I’m good, good.” He smiles. “How are you?”

“I’m good too. Are you guys alone?”

Jason greets them both and so do Marie and Ollie. I notice the way Mario’s hand rests on Ollie’s lower back as he presses a kiss on her cheek but my friend looks away.

“No.” Mario shakes his head. “We’re on that table there. There’s a bunch of people from the hospital. You might know some of them.”

My eyes widen as I look at Harry. He knows I don’t want people to know we’re sleeping together in Uni but he just shakes his head and frowns as if dismissing Mario’s words. The Golden Girls order our drinks before we join them on the booths they have taken on a corner of the pub.

Harry’s got an empty spot beside him and I wonder whether he did that on purpose or whether it just was there because after his greeting I doubt he even wants to sit down next to me. I also notice, even from afar, the beautiful blonde sitting next to him. She’s everything I’m not. She’s thin, like, extremely thin actually, and her skin is paler than mine. She’s blonde but her hairstyle reminds me of my own, she has long opened bangs that skim her cheekbones just like me and her face is just perfect. Yeah, that’s the way to describe her, perfect. Her lips are full and pink and her nose is small and delicate and her eyes are olive green.

Olivia motions to Marie for her to sit down next to Mario so she doesn’t have to but Marie refuses to and even though I don’t agree with whatever the hell it is she’s doing with him, I take that seat before they give a scene- and so I don’t have to sit down next to Harry too. I see him frown from the corner of my eye.

“Hello, I’m Rose.” She’s nice too.

“I’m Indie.” I tell her.

“Indie?” Her green eyes widen. “Where does it come from?”

“It’s… It’s a colour.” My face contorts in embarrassment. “My name’s Indigo Blue. And it’s my mum’s favourite colour. She’s a painter.”

“Wow!” Rose smiles. “That’s so cool.”

From the corner of my eye I see Harry smiling next to her. Olivia sat down next to Harry eventually but he isn’t paying any attention to her and he must be the first man to ever do that. Instead, his eyes are on me the entirety of the night.

We all talk about music and Mario seems interested in Extremoduro. I tell him about them and about my favourite Spanish artists and he asks me stuff and even gets his phone out to type down the songs I tell him. See? He’s such a nice guy. I widen my eyes at Olivia and point at him every time he says something cute but she just gives me warning looks and cuts the air in front of her throat threatening to kill me.

Marie wants to dance and she takes Ollie with her who’s dying to get out of the table anyway. Jason’s been chatting to another two guys about God knows what and Harry’s been mostly quiet even though as nosy as he is I suspect he’s been eavesdropping every conversation on the table. Rose’s chatted to him some too but she’s also been talking to another girl who’s sitting in front of me. I think her name is Cris.

My eyes meet Harry’s but I quickly look away and turn to Mario yet his brown eyes are set on Olivia as she dances. I look at my friends too before I give him a sympathetic smile.

“Olivia is…” I start.

“Incredible.” He cuts me off.

I smile. Yeah, that too. But I wasn’t going to say that.

“Where did you go when you guys had dinner?”

That seems like a good way to start coming around it. I normally wouldn’t be so meddling but alcohol removes my inhibitions like autumn takes the leaves of a tree. I rest my elbow on the table and then my cheek on my hand so I stop taking glances at Harry from the corner of my eye.

“We went to this Indian restaurant she suggested...” His brown eyes narrow as he thinks about the name. 

My blood freezes on my veins.

“The Siddharta?” I fear.

“Yeah!” He smiles. “That’s the one.”

“Oh.”

“You know it too?” He chuckles. “She seems to go there so much even the waiter knew her.”

“Jack?” I can’t believe her.

“Yes.” He looks at me as if we were very strange people. “You guys love Indian food, don’t you?”

“Yes, we do.” I try to hide how angry I am. “I’m gonna order another drink, you want one?”

“I’m fine, thank you. Do you want me to go with you?”

Stop being such a good guy! Olivia’s gonna hear me.

“No, that’s fine. Thanks.” I give him a smile.

I need another drink. Especially because I need to calm down before I yell at Olivia. I don’t know why it bothers me so much that he’s using Mario like that. Well, yes I know; because that’s not what you do to people and I don’t want my friends to be terrible people. My frown feels heavy as I wait for my Bulldog gin and tonic.

“That was an interesting seat choice.”

Harry’s voice makes my belly flip. I swallow at his proximity.

“Your greeting choice was also interesting.”

I shut my eyes internally but on the outside I just look away from him. Why am I such a bigmouth when I drink? When I look back at him, he’s grinning. He presses his body against mine and corners me against the bar.

“Did my girl want a especial greeting?”

“I’m not your girl.” I frown.

“Then why do you want a special greeting?” He’s still grinning.

“Because… Well, because, you said you wanted to see me so…”

“So?” I want to slap that stupid grin out of his face.

“So I was expecting…” I bring my hand to my forehead but mostly to protect my face from his because I’m desperate to kiss him. “Actually, I don’t know what I was expecting.”

“Well” He tacks a strand of hair behind my ear “I, on the other hand, can tell you I was expecting you to sit next to me.”

“You seemed busy.” I look away again.

What am I doing? I can’t be jealous. Wait, am I jealous? What the hell am I doing? I need to get out of here.

“I gotta go.”

But his fingers lift my chin and his lips press against mine. I drink from his mouth contently and my breath catches on my throat when I feel his tongue parting my lips. His hands snake around my waist and he pulls my body to him as we kiss and my hands find the back of his neck.

“Hello, baby.” He smiles against my lips.

He’s intoxicating.

“Hello.”

“You said you didn’t want people from the hospital to know.” He shrugs. “That’s why I didn’t kiss you.”

“No, yeah, you’re right. I am just drunk.”

I don’t know why I said that. I don’t mean that. I wanted that kiss and I would kiss him again, drunk or not. But I don’t want things between us to get… complicated.

“As lovely as usual.”

“I need to talk to Olivia.”

“Fine.”

He moves aside so I can walk away from him and towards my friends, already angry and anxious. When I reach them, they’re both dancing to some lame background song and of course they’re the centre of attention of a group of guys.

“Olivia” I grab her elbow and push her even farther away from Harry’s friends “why did you go to The Siddharta with Mario?”

Her pink cheeks confirm my suspicion. From the corner of my eyes, I can see Marie’s lips parting as she stares at Olivia too. I let her talk even though I know the answer. 

“It’s a good restaurant.”

“You don’t like Indian food.”

“I thought he might like it..”

“You went there to get Jack jealous?” She swallows and looks away from me. “Olivia! It’s been a year!”

“I saw him the other night.” She explains. “I… He was with her and they went to my dad’s jeweller’s. He did that on purpose.”

“And you played his game?”

“What did you want me to do, Indie? I just wanted to get back to him! And I was going to go out with Mario anyway. The only thing that changed was the place.” She shrugs.

“Is that why you keep leading him on? You said he had clumsy hands and that you didn’t like him and you went home with him last night. Do you just want him there so you can get your ex jealous?”

“Indie, this is none of your business.” She looks away from me but her lips are set on a thin line.

“Well someone has to tell you you’re acting like a bitch.”

“What? I’ve had enough, Indigo. Go fuck yourself or better be the canned vagina you are these days.”

Her words freeze me to the spot and I feel a hurricane unleashing on my chest until it reaches my throat. I can’t believe she just said that. She’s been doing this fuck-and-leave thing for a year now and not even once I’ve judged her and now she throws this at my face? Is that what she really thinks of me? Is that what Harry thinks too? Is that even what I am?

I walk away before she sees me crying, I won’t give her the satisfaction and I don’t stop walking until I’ve turn the corner. I left my jacket inside and it’s rather cold now but I’ll text Marie to grab it for me. 

I’ve never been punched on the throat but I reckon this is how it must feel like. It’s hard to breathe and I feel betrayed, beaten and dirty. I walk home. My tears keep rolling freely down my cheeks while my mind goes into a frenzy. 

Jason’s words resound in my mind “you’re not falling for Harry, are you?” No, of course, I’m not. We have nothing in common, other than Medicine, but that’s in no way reason enough and he’s nothing like what I... I’m not looking for that. Now or ever. 

And then it hits me why it bothered me to see him with that Rose girl. It wasn’t jealousy, it was just the fact that I’m not ready to be a canned vagine. I mean I thought I didn’t care at all that he would be with other girls and I don’t think I do but for him to be with other women and for me to see that are two different things. The fact that he called me and told me to come over even if he didn’t event plan on kissing me, then why the hell did he call me if he was with other girl? 

The thought that he might have wanted a threesome with Rose and me flahes through my mind like a falling star. He’s clearly into sex in a way I might not be ready for. He probably has done it before too and maybe that’s what he wants from me now. 

My head aches too and I feel it dull and full and suddenly I feel so tired and cold and I just want to cover my head with my blanket and cry myself to sleep. 

That’s what I do.

[elizacornwall]

Vengeance is an Idiot’s Game  - Chapter 23 - Embers in the Night

Read all the published chapters here. -------------------------------------------------- Javier was playing his guitar with Uncle sitting next to him, Karen had finally given in to Sean’s advances and was seated on his lap. Miss Grimshaw sat on the log, Pearson and Lenny stood nearby. Arthur offered Eliza the comfortable space on the wolf pelt next to the older woman, whilst he lowered himself down onto the ground next to her. Pearson produced a bottle of Bourbon, passing it on to do the rounds.

Uncle had just begun a song, Karen and Miss Grimshaw joined in. Eliza had never seen the old woman this relaxed and was transfixed, watching her smile whilst she sang along. “Oh! I’m a wild free rover, I sing a merry song; The wide, wide world I wander over, With a light, light heart I rove along. Oh with a light, light heart I rove along!” She clapped as the song came to an end, everyone joining in happily. Karen and Sean staggered off to get more beer or to find some privacy, she didn’t exactly care know. Javier struck up a soft melody on his guitar as Miss Grimshaw excused herself to go to bed. Pearson took her seat a moment later, passing Eliza the bottle of whiskey the second time. “You enjoying yourself?”, the stout cook asked her. She wiped her mouth with her sleeve and passed the bottle onto Arthur, who took it off her, one brow cocked.

“I do, thank you! It’s a lovely party, I certainly didn’t expect this when I signed up to be part of an outlaw gang”, she laughed. “But I’m not complaining, seeing Miss Grimshaw smile for once is quite the view.” Pearson laughed heartily, and she glanced at Arthur to her right, his shoulders shaking with a soundless chuckle. “Aaah I remember a time where Susan wasn’t all work”, Pearson mused. “Back in the days, when she and Dutch was together, she was a right spitfire. Fierce and fiery, never too soft for any job.” The girl stared at him. “What do you mean, when Dutch and her were together. Like together together?” She tried to imagine Miss Grimshaw being young and, well, pretty enough to draw the man’s attention, but couldn’t quite conjure up the image. Arthur explained when Pearson seemed lost in a memory of times long past. “Oh yeah, she only fell in with us because her and Dutch were a thing, that was before all of this.” He waved his hand over the camp. “Back then it was just Dutch, Hosea and I, and then Susan tagged along. She was always good to me.” Arthur had never spoken about the past before, and Eliza was incredibly curious. She had been wondering about his relationship with Hosea, of course Dutch must have been there too at the very start. Pearson picked up. “Yeah, she got a bit mother bear-ish, but she’s a fine woman. I only wish she was available…” His voice trailed off and she smiled to herself. Pearson and Grimshaw, she wasn’t sure if they would be such a good fit, but who was she to judge a man on a little crush. Her eyes wandered to Arthur, whose face was still obscured by his hat. “That woman would eat you alive, Pearson!”, Javier laughed. The cook didn’t respond, he just grumbled and stared into the fire.

Uncle started on a new song. “When I was just a lad you know,

I met a girl from ol' Bordeaux,

She had blond hair and blue eyes too;

She let me ride on the ring-dang-do.”

Arthur laughed and joined in on the last line, as did Pearson and Lenny, and before long Javier accompanied them with his guitar. It was a crude song about a woman’s private parts, but Eliza was loosened up by the booze and giggled with them, first humming along and then even singing the chorus. “The ring-dang-doo, now what is that? It’s soft and round like a pussy cat, Got a hole in the middle and is split in two; That’s what you call a ring-dang-doo!” Her little group broke out in a joined laugh as the last notes ebbed off. “I didn’t take you for a lady to sing such filthy songs at the campfire Bonita!” Javier said, a sly glint in his eyes as he looked at her. “And I didn’t take the man who stole me out of my bed as such an excellent musician, yet here you are”, she replied, in a playful tone, a cheeky grin on her lips. “Javier you sly dog, you are meant t’ steal the ladies and get them into bed, not out of it!” laughed Uncle, joining in with the banter. Her cheeks flushed at this remark, realising too late how her words could be interpreted. “What’s this about Escuella getting in bed with our Eliza?” Sadie’s raspy voice sounded from behind her, she slurred her words ever so slightly. Eliza’s head felt so hot she was sure her skin was the colour of a ripe tomato now, and in an attempt to not look like a flustered little girl, she replied: “He’s welcome to try, though I’m sure we all remember what happened the last time someone had the intention of bedding me, right Arthur?” Her words had the effect she hoped for, and everyone but Javier started howling with laughter. Uncle patted his shoulder sympathetically, the copper skinned man feigned heartbroken disappointment on his face, playing along with the joke. “Sounds like she’s found a guard dog with you Morgan!” Pearson jested, and she caught Arthurs eyes for a moment, smiling back at him mischievously. He only hummed in agreement, his features unmoving. “Only thing she’s takin’ t’bed with her’s her gun, and I dare all of you to lay a finger on our little doe! ‘specially with me sleepin’ in the wagon next to her”, Sadie announced, letting a hand fall onto her shoulder. “She’s too good for the likes of y’all!” Flattered but slightly annoyed by her overly protective manner the younger woman shuffled on her pelt. “I’m no better than anyone here, you don’t need to worry about me.” “That ain’t true and you know it. You’re sweet an’ innocent an’ pure, I ain’t lettin’ any of these bastards change ya into what they are!” She was clearly drunk, way more than Eliza originally had thought. But she’d had a good amount of juice too and couldn’t hold her tongue, hoping to impress and shake everyone’s view of her as a helpless little girl. “I don’t know about that, seems like you think you know more about me than you do. I’m not quite as innocent and pure as you believe!” Uncle hooted at that and Lenny piped up. “Bet she had a different servant in her bed every night! Y’all know what they say about all them rich ladies, they got a taste for the cocoa!” He swung his hips suggestively as he drew out the last word, and Eliza was just about to answer what she thought of his cocoa, as Arthur laid his hand on her knee. A warmth spread through her whole leg and she felt that strange sensation in her stomach again.  “Don’t say nothin’ now you might regret tomorrow”, he murmured in a low tone so only she could hear him, then raised his voice addressing the rest of the group. “What’s with all of you damn fools, forgettin’ your manners in front of a lady!” “’s all in good sport Morgan, bit of teasin’ won’t do her no harm”, Uncle replied. “Don’t be such an old grouch! She’d say if she wasn’t fine with it, right Eliza?” Lenny smiled at her, wriggling his eyebrows. She nodded, but before she could answer Arthur got up to his feet, offering her his hand and pulled her up with him as she took it without even thinking. “Yer mumma never taught you a woman’s purity ain’t yours to pry on?” His voice had a disapproving ring to it. He let go of Eliza’s arm and looked down at her,

frowning. She swayed on her feet, only now realising how drunk she actually was. He quickly steadied her, holding her gently by the upper arm. He sighed. “How ‘bout I bring ya to your cot, them lot can be dangerous to be ‘round for a woman in your state.” “I’m good Arthur, let me stay up a bit longer. I can take care of myself!” She raised her arm and jokingly flexed her biceps. It didn’t even match the size of his lower arms, strong and muscular as they were. “They don’t scare me!” She could hear Sadie laugh, and turning to her she saw the blonde taking her seat. “Hey! That’s my spot”, she complained. “Arthur’s right, go an’ air out that pretty little head of yours at least”, she waved her hand dismissively towards the cliffside. “Make sure she won’t fall off, alright?” The question was aimed at Arthur, and Eliza scoffed. Falling off a rock wasn’t on her to-do-list for today, besides, she wasn’t that drunk! He gently encouraged her to move, his hand still holding her arm which made her all weird and tingly. Must be the whiskey. She staggered away from the campfire towards the ledge and he led her silently, catching her twice when she stumbled over her own feet. “I’m not as innocent as you all think”, she lulled, still feeling the need to defend herself. He only hummed in response. Arthur led her to a boulder and let go of her arm, sitting down and gesturing for her to do the same. She followed suit and leant her back against the cold stone, the world swimming in front of her eyes. “I-I can shoot, used to at least an’ I could d-drink most of my father’s men under the table, HA”, she let out a loud laugh, reminiscing about the suitors in their fancy dinner frocks, truly and utterly drunk, not even able to hold their glass anymore because they underestimated her. Arthur sighed. “That may have been true back at yer daddy’s home, but you’re runnin’ with a gang of practised drunkards now. Don’t be goin’ and challenging them, you won’t win I promise.” She scowled at him, he made her feel like a little girl and she hated it. “You’re just as bad as them, always tryin’ to protect me, I don’t need a safeguard”, she huffed, “I’m twenty six you know, not sixteen. An’ even then I could take care of myself when dad’s greasy friends wan’ed to get in my bed.” He was just about to answer, when she cut him off: “And Micah doesn’t count, if you hadn’t locked me up in the first place that woul'n’t have happened!” He looked at her, a strange expression on his face. She thought it was belittling, and… was that pity? He sighed again. “You finished?” Eliza pulled her knees to her chest, hugging them close. The night was cold here in the dark without the fire. Wordlessly he draped his jacket over her shoulders. It was heavy and smelled of leather, sweat, smoke and horse. It needed a wash for sure she thought, but it was still warm from the heat of his body. She muttered a thanks and Morgan laughed his raspy laugh. “I never thought you needed protection, Miss. You just ain’t used to this way of life and I didn’t want you to be embarrassed tomorrow. If you even remember all this.” Eliza kept quiet as he lit himself a cigarette, taking a couple drags before he added: “Besides, Sadie’s gonna kill me if I ever let anythin’ happen to her little doe. You want to talk about bein’ overprotective, talk to her!” She was still irritated, but even drunk her had to admit that his arguments made sense. Curse him and his common sense, all high and mighty and not to be argued against. The cold air sent a breeze through her hair as she locked her gaze with his, the moonlight reflecting in those much-too-gentle-for-an-outlaw eyes. “I don’t need a guard dog, Arthur. I just don’t want anyone to think I’m weak.” Her eyes started to fill with tears like they wanted to mock her mumbled words, she quickly wiped them away. “I just… want to be my own woman, responsible for myself.” He chuckled softly, dropping his gaze and lowering his head until she couldn’t see anything under his hat but his smiling lips. “You’ll get there”, he replied, “but

there’s no shame in gettin’ a little help along the way. ‘Gotta learn how to walk before you can run’ Hosea’d say.” She huffed again, not wanting to outright agree that she needed plenty of guidance, but of course he was right. She stared at her knees for a long time, not saying a word while he smoked his cigarette, looking up at the clear night sky. The young woman tried to get a clearer head, not completely overrun by boozy emotion, but all that tumult inside her head and heart was so incredibly exhausting. She welcomed Morgan’s gentle voice, distracting her from her musings. “See that star up there? The bright one, right there. It’s called Polaris. If you ever get lost at night, that’s the one you want to find, it always shows north.” He pointed at a star close to the horizon, just over the mountains. “Make sure t’remember that.” Eliza followed his outstretched arm and saw the twinkling star he was pointing at. It was gorgeous, outshining all the others around it. Her lips parted slightly as she was looking at it, trying to take in what he just told her about it. She’d never had much interest in the constellations of the sky, aside from marvelling at their magical grace when she felt sad she didn’t tend to pay the stars much attention. When she looked back at him his eyes were resting on her, patiently awaiting a reply. “I-it’s beautiful”, she managed. “Mmh. Useful too. Suppose that was bein’-your-own-woman lesson number one”, he chuckled. He extinguished his cigarette on the rock behind him and flicked the butt over the edge of the drop. “Come on now, you look like you’re about to nod off. You need some sleep”, he said as he was getting up, holding out his hand to help her up. She grabbed it, grumbling her disapprovement. He led Eliza all the way back to her bedroll and made sure she was safely tucked in, not without reclaiming his jacket. They could already hear Sadie snoring and she giggled; he just gave she a sympathetic smile when she mentioned it. “Hope she ain’t keeping you up with that. Sometimes she sounds like she’s sawin’ logs, no idea how her Jake put up with that durin’ the nights.” Her giggling became a snort, “That’s love for you”, she replied. He exhaled sharply in a silent laugh. “Goodnight little doe”, he hummed, heading off, back towards the fire. Her eyes lingered on his back as he walked, jacket casually slung over one shoulder. Could someone’s back be handsome? The embers from the fire swirled lazily around his silhouette as he rejoined the now smaller group. Javier was still plinking away on his guitar, and like so often his play lulled Eliza to sleep, her last thought being of Arthur’s eyes reflecting the flickering flames.

[papa-rhys]

By Chance (Javier X Reader)

Note: First fanfic I’ve posted in a looong while. It’s a rare occurrence lmao I don’t have plans to come back to fanfic writing. This just came to me as a dream so here ya go. Enjoy!

Category: fluff? 

Warnings: none

Word Count: 2411

The air in the train car is bitterly cold, biting at your skin and turning your fingers pale, despite it being well into the spring months by now. The open-ended cars and thinly sealed windows are to thank for that - West Elizabeth’s Central rail is known for many things, but luxury and decadence are not on the list.

You’re sat at the very pack of the fourth passenger car; right where you’re supposed to be. After all, behind you is nothing but luggage and payroll. No room to fit seating back there, so here you’ll stay until it’s your time to shine.

With your eyes out the window, surveying the mountains that drift by in all their white-dusted glory, you make a mental note of your surroundings. It pays to be careful around these parts. Beyond the couple bickering a few rows ahead, the child pestering her mother up front, and the two men chunnering about their work hours, there isn’t much threat lurking within the trains rickety wooden walls.

Save for the rather handsome man watching you, of course.

You dare to glance over at him, taking in every element of him in the fraction of a second that it takes for your eyes to flick over him and snap back to the window at your side again.

Bowler hat, blue waistcoat, gold-capped boots poking out from where he sits with his legs sprawled across both seats, back pressed against the window - not well dressed enough to be a bigwig, but definitely not strapped for cash with boots like that on his feet. Dark skin, darker hair, and a smirk on his lips as he watches you; visible even from your peripheral. He taps his fingers in a rhythm on the backrest, eyes locked on you.

He’s definitely flirting.

Your stop isn’t for another 43 minutes. You can afford a little fun before then. After all, being all business and no pleasure would be a painfull dull way to live, and if an unsuspecting deer is to walk into your trap, then who are you to deny a hearty stew?

A strategical lip nibble here, a well-thought-out hair tuck there. Eventually, he comes to the right conclusion: you’re flirting too.

The man swings his legs off his bench and rises to his feet, making his way to the back of the car with his hands steadying him against the push and pull of the train in motion. At least once, he ducks into a row to wait out the pull of the train curving around a mountain, hand gripping the backrest for support until the tracks straighten again and he’s on the move once more.

He stops beside your seat and you wait one, two, three seconds before slowly pulling your gaze from the window and looking up at him as if his presence wasn’t noticed.

“This seat taken?” he asks, nodding his head towards the empty seat beside you. 

“Doesn’t appear to be, does it?”

His lips curve upwards until the smile reaches his eyes, making deep brown pools narrow. Without another word, he sinks into the seat next to you and spreads his legs out in front of him. His casual demeanour makes him a much harder mark, but a more exciting one for certain. Anyone can charm a stray dog, easy. But a peacock - they’re the tricky ones. Complimenting someone is the easiest way to win their affection and there aren’t many compliments you can use on a peacock that they don’t already think about themselves.

“Do I recognise you?” you ask, shifting in your seat to angle towards him.

He blinks at you for just a second too long, the cogs turning inside his head as he mentally churns through every possibility that could arise if he answered the question. 

He’s a wanted man, then. That’ll explain the fancy clothing. 

“I don’t think we’ve met,” he says.

The corner of your mouth quirks upwards for a moment and you allow him to see it. You pull your voice low, keeping it light but quiet. Flirtatious. “That isn’t what I asked, is it?”

You watch him for a few beats and then he relents, turning away and surveying the car that’s folded around you both; the people occupying it, with their newspapers and hats and talk of the weather. The man beside you takes a breath and you wait for what he’ll say.

“I think I would've noticed if I’d met you before,” he says, eyes still scanning the car. “Someone as good-looking and out of place as you. You don’t strike me as the type of person I’d forget.”

A regular Romeo.

“Good-looking?” You don’t bother hiding the smile in your voice. It comes so naturally and it’s a tool worth using. “Well, aren’t you a flatterer?”

Romeo chuckles softly and you risk a sidelong glance, taking in his smile. It’s slightly crooked, one side rising higher than the other, and there’s something sweet about that; something real and grounded among the façade created by his shiny, polished boots and perfectly tailored waistcoat.

“Not flattery, just the truth.” He returns your sideways glance and catches your gaze, thoughtful eyes meeting yours. Your pulse quickens and starts off a drum beat thumping in your ears.

You turn your head towards the window, finding trees gliding by, rays of morning sun seeping between them. “There aren’t any guards in the luggage car,” you tell him. The hairs on the back of your neck tell you he’s turned to watch you.

“How do you know that?” he asks.

You turn back to look at Romeo once again. “If you feel like making your morning commute a little more interesting, then we could always relocate to the luggage care for the next, say, 20 minutes?”

A devilish smile blooms across his face, teeth gleaming. “Make it 30 minutes.”

You stifle the urge to giggle, keeping it locked deep in our chest and opting for a smile instead. “You think big of yourself, huh? In that case,” you rise to your feet, smoothing out your clothes, “it’ll probably be more like 10 minutes.”

“You’ve wounded me,” he says, allowing you to slip past him and into the aisle before pulling himself up off the bench and following you back to the luggage car.

_______

The two of you tumble into the wall of the luggage car, hitting the wood with an audible oof as the air is shoved from your lungs. But you’re too busy thinking about the hands on your waist, the lips at your shoulder, to even contemplate how badly that collision will bruise you tomorrow.

Romeo, it turns out, is a very good kisser. 

His breath comes in shallow huffs and the air from lips brushes against your skin, warming you against the chill outside. 

The train car rocks and rumbles, tossing you from side to side every now and then, but Romeo is on hand to steady you, keeping you o your feet. It’s not long before the train hits a bend and the two of you are unceremoniously thrown towards the other wall with the momentum. Romeo’s smile widens as he watches you clutch the window frame for support, the two of you momentarily separated. His smile is infectious, it seems, and soon enough you’re mirroring his gleam - your smile just as dreamy as his could ever be, according to the soldiers at Fort Wallace.

“Do you often find yourself frolicking with strangers in the luggage cars of trains?” you ask him.

“Depends on the stranger,” he shrugs.

“And I satisfy, yes?”

Romeo’s smile brightens a fraction. “Ay, I suppose.”

“Well, then I think maybe you should come over here and -” You cut yourself short as the scenery outside the window gives way to open land; trees dissipating, replaced by open grassy hills littered with low-lying shrub. You must have lost track of time. Your stop is close, now. 

Into action you spring, pushing off on the balls of your feet and flying by Romeo, leaving him with a confused smile and a face full of your flowing scarf. 

You’re all quiet muttering and business-like focus as you flip up the hollowed-out floorboards at the back of the car to retrieve the bag you’d stowed in it before boarding the train. Romeo joins you at the back of the car just as you come up to stand again, bringing the back with you and shoving one hand deep inside it to rummage through its contents.

“You might not want to be here much longer,” you say; eyes flicking up to Romeo briefly and finding him with a puzzled look.

“Why?” he asks, voice teeming with suspicion. 

Your fingers brush against the thing you’re looking for and you pull out your trusty neckerchief from the bottom of the bag and begin tying it around your face, stowing the bag between your legs while you work.

“You’re here to rob the train?” Romeo blurts, amusement and surprise mingling on his features, accompanied by… is that lust? Jesus, is this guy getting a thrill out of this? He’s even more curious than you’d thought.

“We all get our jollies off one way or another,” you flirt. “You jaunt around with strangers; I rob people blind. If I must go to hell for it, then, well… C’est la vie.”

With that, you promptly turn your attention to ransacking the surround cupboards, which may hold the odd trinket, but don’t contain the main prize. You move back a car, past the catatonic guard you’d generously shared a drink with at the start of your journey. Of course, you hadn’t drank from the same flask, but he didn’t know that.

You don’t even have to search the car to know where you’re heading. Eyes locking onto the bulky safe at the end of the car, you press forward, paying no mind to Romeo trailing behind you. 

After tipping a handful of gunpowder on the lock of the safe, you find view obstructed by Romeo’s arm, extending a lit match towards your pile of black powder. Looking up, you’re met with a very different man than the one you were sat next to in the passenger car not half an hour ago. With a black neckerchief covering his nose and mouth and a shiny six-shooter held lazily by his side in one hand, it’s his turn to baffle you. Oh, how the tables have turned. 

“C’est la vie,” he shrugs. 

Neither of you can see the other’s smile behind your masks, but you both know it’s there; lips curled up against the fabric.

You nod. Take a step back. Watch. In a heartbeat, he’s set your powder alight and the mound burns bright white like the centre of the sun for a few moments before fizzling out into a glowing molten mess. With a quick smack with the butt of his revolver, the lock gives, and the view before you is enough to send you skipping around the car singing praises for the Lord.

Gold bars sit on the top shelf of the safe, neatly arranged into rows like little gleaming soldiers. The bottom shelf holds bags; one of which has spilled from the safe and now leaks its contents over the floorboards - gold coins, freshly forged and on the way to the bank.

It’s a beautiful sight. 

Shame the bank will never see it.

The two of you stand in a stupor for a few moments, captivated by the sight of riches and all of the lavish ways of spending it that your brains come up with, and then you shake yourselves out of it and get moving. 

Stuffing handful after handful into the bag, the two of your work double time. A quick look at the passing scenery tells you that your stop is rapidly approaching. Romeo grabs a few of the bars, but you shake your head. “Too heavy. I can’t carry them.”

“Then I’ll take the bag,” he says.

“You will not.” You pull the bag close to your chest as if he might rip it from your hands at any moment. “This is my job.”

His shoulders deflate, frustration taking hold for a moment. “You can trust me.”

“I don’t even know your name.”

“Javier,” he says. “Javier Escuella.”

Jesus Christ, you’re really in trouble, now. 

He’s got an even higher price on his head than you have. Hell, you could leave this loot behind and turn him in for 10 times the amount of anything in this train. A small voice points out that he trusted you with his real name, which means you can probably trust him in return. No crook would have dobbed himself in like that if he had intentions of stabbing you in the back right after.

“Okay,” you sigh, handing over the bag. “Grab as many as you can.”

Whistles cut the air as Javier fills the bag with bars. The further down the length of the train have caught wind of something being wrong. If they’re close enough for you to hear their whistles, they’ll be here in force soon enough.

“We need to go,” you tell Javier, tapping him on the shoulder and prompting him to hurry. As a smear of blue appears in your peripheral, you pull up and haul him away from the safe by the shoulder of his jacket. “Now!”

You head for the back end of the train and find tracks staring back at you. 

“Jump,” you tell him.

Without another word, Javier leaps from the back of the train, landing in the centre of the tracks with his knees bent in a crouch and the bag in one hand. You turn the face the oncoming guard and offer him a quick salute before leaping from the train and leaving him in the doorframe.

Javier joins you in the spot where you landed and pulls you to your feet by the arm.

Before the guard has the chance to call out to his friends, the two of you duck into the passing forest that surrounds Heatherfield Station - your stop, chosen for the cover it offers via the trees.

And with that, you can add one more job to your resume and enjoy the fruit of your labour in whatever local pigsty you pass through next.

You’re not sure what you’re going to do with Romeo, though.

You suppose you can think of a few things.

[neon-junkie]

Mi Querido

Summary:  Whilst dating John, you finally realize who in the camp is in love with you, and decide to make those feelings mutual.

Pairing: Javier Escuella X GN!Reader

Word Count: 3522

Rating: SFW Tags: Friends to lovers, First kiss, Fluff, Slow burn, Guitar playing, Boat ride, Breakup, Angst.

Notes: This was meant to be a short drabble, maybe a few hundred words, but I got hella carried away lmao. Requests always open!

You and John had been dating for a few weeks now. It was quite sudden, though you always had a soft spot for the young cowboy, you never expected the feelings to be mutual. John was a sweetheart; loving, caring, soft. His confession of feelings towards you stumbled out of his mouth one day when the two of you were on a mission together. Maybe he was nervous? Maybe it was a genuine accident? Who knows. It led to the two of you coming back from the mission hand in hand with a nice wad of cash.

Everybody in the camp was so supportive. Abigail didn't seem to care.

You got along with pretty much everyone, hating Micah just like the rest of the clique. You had done your fair share of robberies with Arthur, hunting trips with Charles, drinking with Sean, fishing with Javier. You felt like you fit in well here, and it appears the gang felt mutual.

One of your closest companions was Javier. You wouldn't say you had a best friend, but Javier was one of few that you found yourself hanging out with the most. You tried to love all your friends equal, but it appeared that no matter what, you'd end up besides Javier as you sat by the campfire, or pitching your tent next to his. Maybe he gave you some form of comfort or protection?

Javier had been distant lately.

You had asked to go fishing with him, he quickly revealed he had made plans. It felt like an excuse.

You sat next to him at dinner one night, he quickly excused himself saying he was going for a piss, then never came back.

You asked him for a game of five finger fillet. For the first-ever time, he declined, saying his hands already ached.

You sat with John and a group of others at the table, playing a game of Poker. You weren't great but meh, who cares, you didn't bet much on it. John couldn't help but keep jokingly peek at your cards, making you giggle and hide them each time. Bill kept complaining you two were cheating and working together, so on the next game you and John sat closer and had a hand together. Bill couldn't complain if you shared your cards.

You could see Javier in the distance, sat around the campfire with few others, playing to himself and keeping his input to their conversation a minimum. Your eyes flicked over him and were met as he flicked his eyes over at you from under his hat.

You both looked away.

This happened a few times throughout the night.

You could feel Javier watching you. You could feel him strumming louder every time you and John spoke. Louder as you laughed. Louder as you both flirted.

Javier was drowning you out. You didn't understand why.

You lay awake that night, huddled up to John in his cot. His cheek rested against your forehead, lightly snoring, arms around you.

You thought of Javier.

You thought about the first time he took you fishing. How he helped you as you struggled to reel in your first catch, standing behind you and reaching round to place his hands on top of yours. You remembered the rough skin of his palms sliding over the back of your hand, his breath on the back of your neck, his chest pressed against your back. It was a big catch, Javier was thrilled for you. He congratulated you and looked at you with happy, puppy-like eyes.

You thought about the time you were ill for a week, bed-bound, unable to walk on your own. Javier had stuck by your side the most, but not to the point where it was clingy. He brought you food as often as he could, most of it from his own private stash as Pearsons cooking would only make you sicker. You thought about how he held a cold wet towel over your forehead often, how he stroked your hair to comfort you as you fell asleep, how he held you tightly and calmed you after you broke down, worried that you'd never get better.

You thought about the many times you wandered around the camp at night, unable to sleep. But the one time that struck you the most was when Javier had caught you awake. He had cooed you over to him and told you to get comfortable on his roll mat, picking up his guitar as you lay down. Javier strummed lightly. You watched him through half-lidded eyes, the campfire in the distance outlining him like a halo, his long black hair resting lightly over his face as his back half-faced you. You woke during the night to find him next to you, his blanket draped over you as he lay on his front beside you, arm lightly around your waist.

You had felt something then. You had felt something as you shuffled closer to him, pulling the blanket over him also. You had felt something as he instinctively rolled onto his side and pulled you into him, his thumb stroking over yours as you fell back asleep.

Back then you just thought it was a platonic feeling. You were glad you could snuggle up to your friends. Your interpretations of your own feelings were wrong.

You had felt something different when you woke the next morning to find him gone. Bill had questioned why you were sleeping on Javier's roll mat. You had shrugged him off and went back to your own tent.

Somehow, you had finally realized what these feelings were.

You got up from Johns cot, quietly making your way around the camp in the dead of night. Javier was nearby, on guard duty. He looked over his shoulder to see you coming his way, and quickly turned back, almost as if he pretended to not notice you approaching.

"Why have you been avoiding me?" You asked as you stood beside him, turned to face him. He kept facing forward.

"I haven't," Javier replied coldly.

"You haven't properly spoken to me in weeks!" You scolded.

"And it's taken you this long to notice? Not a day? Not even a few days?" Javier said as he turned to face you, holding the shotgun down beside him in one hand. Javier huffed as he looked away from you, facing forward, the shadow of his hat covering half of his angered expression.

There was a moment of silence.

"I know why you're mad," You said to him. Javier didn't reply.

"I never realized before that you were into me."

"How? Everbody could see it."

"I guess I just saw your gestures as being friendly. It only came to mind now. I feel ashamed that it took me this long to realize," you said as you looked down.

"Why does it matter now? You have John," Javier said as he waved his hand, shrugging you off.

You wanted to say more to him.

You didn't know what to say.

You left him to it.

The next few days you spent mostly alone, taking long walks, reading a book, going hunting, but never fishing, as that just reminded you of Javier. Lovely Javier. With his tanned skin and dark mustache that never met in the middle. With his long hair that he always tied back in a cute little ponytail. With his large rough hands that you now realized were always aching to be touching your skin.

Javier clogged up your thoughts.

Javier was the reason you failed to launch your bow at this deer you were hunting. The deer ran away.

More days passed. John was asking you on the daily if you were okay, kissing your temple, holding your hands in his. He loved physical affection, especially with you, but noticed you were sympathetically giving it back, rather than giving it back because you loved him. Your two-way relationship was turning into a one-way street.

You noticed John sat with Javier one night, talking to him quietly. Javier seemed to be acting himself, though slightly distant. You saw John talking for a while, he looked like he was stumbling on his words. Javier had shrugged back at him. John looked annoyed. You overheard Javier apologize to John and say he wasn't sure how to help him, then excuse himself from the table. As Javier was walking off, John raised his voice and asked if there was anyone in this camp who didn't seem distant and down. He huffed.

The day you broke up with John was not a nice one. It was dark and gloomy out, the sun seemed to never rise that day. You'd never apologized so much to someone in your life, saying how the problem was you, not him. John didn't seem surprised by the breakup, mentioning how you'd been so off with him lately. He couldn't be mad at you, and just wished you the best for your happiness. He asked if you two could still be friends, you smiled sweetly and said "always," before kissing him on the forehead one last time.

A few nights later, you sat at the campfire by yourself. Yet again you were up, unable to sleep. Charles had checked on you as he went onto his watch, giving you a hug and reminding you that he's always there for you. Charles was so sweet. You were glad you'd met him. A little while later you heard someone walking back into camp, it was Javier.

"Why are you awake?" He asked you as he approached you.

"Can't sleep," you replied.

"Mi querido, you can never seem to sleep."

You hadn't heard him call you that in so long. My dear, his dear. You had missed his company over the weeks, realizing how much you had isolated yourself.

"(Y/N)?" he asked. You clicked out of your train of thought, realizing you hadn't replied to Javier.

"Yeah?" You asked.

Javier paused for a while.

"You broke up with Marston," he said in a half statement, half questioning way.

"I did."

"Why?" He asks.

"I.. I don't know. I didn't feel right- I don't feel right," you said, correcting yourself.

"It is hard to love someone when your head isn't clear," Javier said, from experience. You hummed in agreement. The two of you paused in silence again.

"I will leave you to it. Goodnight," Javier said, then left. You wanted to turn around and call for him to come back, call for him to sit beside you so you could lay your head on his shoulder and entwine his fingers in yours. Your throat got stuck, unable to call out for him. Was it the fear of rejection? Who knows.

You woke the next day, still not used to being in your own bed. Your tent flaps were closed, keeping the rays of sunlight and the harsh morning cold out. Most of the company had small open tents, ones you thought could barely be called a tent. You had cashed out on a much nicer one, giving you both warmth and privacy. Slightly disorientated, you got up and reached over to your bedside table (which was just an empty crate) to have a sip of water. You felt your hand grab something silky and soft instead. You looked over to see a flower there, freshly picked, bright and loving.

Javier.

You had placed the flower into a spare cup of water and kept it beside your bed. Javier hadn't spoken to you much, only passing comments when you were in a group of people. He and you had had no alone time, and no chances to be alone together either.

But the flowers continued to come. Every morning one was added to your cup at your bedside. Always the first thing to brighten your day.

The cup began to fill quickly and one morning you woke to see it had been replaced with an actual vase, along with another fresh flower.

You had tried to stay up a few times in hope to catch Javier sneaking into your tent. Maybe you'd confront him. Maybe you'd pretend to be asleep. Maybe you'd ask him to stay by your side, hopefully forever. Though every time you'd always ended up falling asleep. For once you were able to sleep at night as if waking up to these flowers was motivation for you to get some rest.

The girls had once commented on how you always had a lovely bunch of flowers by your bed, seeing as you left your tent flaps open during the day. They asked who was picking them for you. You shrugged, pretending not to know. Karen bet it was John trying to win you back, Tilly half agreed, the other half thinking John had moved on by now.

A part of you then realized it could be John. There was nothing to say who it was. There was nothing to say it was Javier. For all you know, Javier could have also moved on by now and destroyed any hope he had in being with you.

You went to bed that night unsettled.

The next day you woke to a sight. It was as if the person who was leaving these flowers had heard yours and the girls's conversation the day before.

There was flowers everywhere.

Everywhere.

Your usual bunch sat on your bedside table, fuller than ever. But there were also flowers dotted around your tent. Bunches placed over the crates and chests where you store your clothes, petals scattered over the floor, the stems of some had been placed through the loops in your tent flaps, not that you ever did them up anyway, or at least you hadn't since they started leaving flowers every night. Your tent was covered. They were all different closers, shapes, and sizes. Whoever left them had clearly spent a long time collecting them, let alone placing them around your tent.

You were glad you didn't have hay fever.

You went to put your usual attire on when you saw a box on top of your clothes crate. You brushed the flowers off and opened it, looking inside to see clothing. By the shoulders, you pulled it out the box, presenting it in front of you. You eyed up the most gorgeous, and expensive (dress/shirt) you had ever seen. The fabrics pattern was of course, floral. You didn't hesitate to put it on and put extra effort into your appearance today. You felt special, you felt loved.

As you left your tent, the first thing you noticed was that the flowers didn't end there. There was a soft scatter of petals outside your door. A trail. You looked up to see where the trail leads off to - off into the woods. That was when you noticed the amount of eyes on you. Half the camp was eyeing you up, smiling.

The gang was a hard bunch of outlaws, but they seemed to be soft today. As if the loving gesture had an effect on everyone.

"You won't need your horse, it doesn't go too far," you heard Arthur call out to you. You nodded and began following it.

Arthur was right. It was a small walk, that leads you through a path in the woods, then broke off to head towards the beach. As the trail began to come to an end, you could faintly hear the soft strumming of a guitar.

Javier.

Without noticing you picked up the pace, coming out of the forest and into contact with the beach.

There he was.

Leaning back against a boulder for support, Javier was looking down at his guitar whilst he played. He looked smart; hair in its usual ponytail but clean for once, clean white shirt on, polished shoes, smart black trousers, and a waistcoat with a matching floral pattern to the outfit he had left out for you. There were flowers threaded into the head of his guitar.

"You came," he said as he looked up. It made you feel like he wasn't expecting you'd come, that he wasn't expecting you to still have feelings for him, if he even knew you had any to begin with.

"Of course," was all you could respond. You wanted to tell him to love him. You wanted to tell him you're sorry. You wanted to run over and kiss him. You froze in the moment.

"Join me?" Javier asked as he paused his playing to point over to the rowing boat pushed on the shore of the beach. You never even noticed it was there, too starstruck from the look of Javier.

You nodded, making your way over. You instinctively began pushing the rowboat offshore. Javier tutted you, ordering you to get in as he placed his guitar in there. How Javier managed to get the two of you offshore without getting any of his clothes wet was beyond you.

But here you were, looking over the landscape as Javier rowed.

"You're quiet. Something wrong, mi querido?" he asked.

"I was just admiring the view," you said as you smiled at him.

"Me too," he replied. You were the view. The only time he had taken his eyes off you was to check where he was rowing you out to. "You want to play whilst I row?" Javier asks you, eyeing at his guitar.

"Sure," you said as you picked his guitar up.

Javier had taught you a few things here and there. He was always very excited whenever you asked for a lesson off him. Never hesitating on sitting close to you, moving his fingers on top of yours to help you press the chords, moving his hands along yours, adjusting your arms. Javier teaching you anything was just an excuse for him to get close to you, because he could simply say he's just trying to help.

You were a bit wobbly but managed to strum out a simple melody he had taught you.

"Sorry I'm rusty," you said as you played.

Javier stopped rowing and shuffled to sit beside you.

"May I?" He asked, reaching his arms out slightly to assist you. This was the first time he had ever asked.

"You don't have to ask," you smiled. Javier smiled back and reached around you, placing his hands on top of yours, helping you play. You could feel his chest against your shoulder blade, his breath lightly on your ear, his rough palms cupping over the back of your hands.

You moved the guitar slightly so it sat more in the middle of you two, and took the opportunity to rest your head on his shoulder.

For the first-ever time, you felt him tense up at your touch.

His chest quickly softened out, and you felt his cheek rest on the top of your head.

The two of you synced up and played a simple melody. It felt magical. Unreal.

"I'm glad I finally know who the flower culprit is," you said as you continued your playing.

"Did you know it was me?" Javier asked.

"I didn't know it was you, but I always hoped it was."

Javier stopped playing, you did too.

"(Y/N)," he said as he took his guitar from you and rested it up against the side of the boat. He turned to face you.

"Did you break off with Marston for me?" Javier asked.

"Well, uhm," You paused.

"No, you don't have to answer that. I.. uh.. Well, I just want to know that one thing. It is behind me. I was an idiota for taking my anger out. I should have been happy for you, supported you. It was selfish to put my feelings first, above you, above John."

He paused.

"I'm sorry for the way I acted."

You took Javier's hand in yours and smiled at him.

"John is behind us now. I only hope to look forward to a future with you," you say to him.

You had never seen Javier blush until now.

"And I'm sorry for not realizing my feelings until later. I had always found comfort with you, but I never realized what I was feeling was love. I was so blind and so stupid," you continued.

"Mi querido, it's behind us now," Javier said as his spare hand came up to brush along your hairline and rest on your cheek.

"Be mine?"

You wasted no time in accepting his question by leaning forward to finally meet your lips with his. He kissed back, obviously. His hand running from your cheek, down your hair, to rest on your jawline. You felt like you could hear cheering in the distance. Maybe the gang was watching. Maybe it was inner you applauding you on.

You could feel Javier smile against your lips and he continued to kiss you. His hand lightly squeezed at yours, and you couldn't help but smile back against him.

The two of you slowly pulled away, resting foreheads against each other, eyes both shut.

"I love you, Javier," you said.

"I love you too, mi querido," he replied.

[journal-of-an-outlaw]

Price to be Paid - Chapter 24

AO3 Link here!

That night the gang gathered to celebrate Jack making it home safe and sound after his ordeal with Angelo Bronte. Crates of beer and other liquors were brought out, the fires roared full and bright, and a weight seemed to be lifted from the shoulders of everyone as they settled into the surroundings of Shady Belle.

Except for you, who couldn't stop thinking about the letter you found from Mary.

All this time. They had been writing back and forth for however long and about god knows what. Maybe she just needed help or someone to vent to, their story was still classified as a mystery to you. But never once had Arthur mentioned her or made you think that she was still a part of his life.

Javier strummed the guitar and caught your eye. His eyebrows danced when he asked you to sing and you agreed quickly, needing a distraction from the way your thoughts were headed. This was a party after all, might as well have fun. The two of you spent almost an hour around the warm flames of the fire, dancing and singing to entertain the others. Jack loved the attention even if Abigail was unwilling to let him go. You understood; Jack was her whole world and he had only just gotten back after the terrifying ordeal.

You walked around after the music had ended and others wanted to sing admiring the love these people shared and the many ways it was communicated. Sean pulled Karen into his lap and whispered something, most likely dirty, in her ear causing the woman to be taken over by a fit of giggles. Hosea and Dutch stood as watchful figures from the porch. Lenny was tapping his foot from his spot on guard duty and humming along when he thought no one could see him.

“YN! Where’s that fiance of yours at?” Tilly called from her spot next to Mary Beth and you sat with them.

“That’s something I’d like to know. Saw him earlier, wonder where he got off to?”

Mary Beth looked at you with bright eyes. “Maybe he’s hiding, planning something big for you!”

Clearly she had a few drinks in her as she rocked back with laughter. You and Tilly shared a glance at her reaction and chuckled along, enjoying the carefree way her hair rolled around her shoulders.

You left them and wandered back inside, calling out for Arthur. It didn’t come as a surprise when you got no answer, standing alone in the big house that was falling apart around you.

A small cheer went up outside and you walked out to find Arthur hitching his horse up, waving off those greeting him and tipping his hat as he walked in, embarrassed at the extra attention from his drunken cohorts. Dutch slapped his shoulder with encouraging words and Arthur stopped for a moment before spotting you standing on the porch.

You tried to hold the memory of the letter in your mind as you stared him down, but the moment his face broke into a smile you knew you couldn't fight it. Arthur was many things; kind to those in need, fiercely loyal to the gang, loving and caring to you after all those months of hiding his feelings, and something inside of you said he would never cause you harm. Brushing the thought of Mary aside for the night you let him scoop you into a hug once he ran up the steps and held on tightly, inhaling his scent of tobacco leaves and leather.

“Sorry I ran off darlin’, Dutch needed something from town and I thought I would be back before now.”

“Wasn’t too long. Just enough time for me to worry about my fiance, but ain’t nothing new there.”

Arthur growled low in your ear and pushed the doors behind you open. After confirming that no one was around he laid you back against the wall and held himself against you. His hands swirled your hair between his fingers and he looked at you hungrily, eyes darting to your lips and breath coming in short. A warmth pooled in your belly at the glint in his eyes.

“Arthur, everyone is right outside they might -”

“They won’t.”

The slow smile that spread across your face broke him and in a heartbeat he pinned you to the wall in a kiss, one hand lazily roaming your hips while the other gently cupped your cheek. You grabbed each side of his leather jacket and swirled one finger against his chest in the hair that peeked out before pushing his shirt open a few buttons to fully explore. You found your way down and rubbed the bulging spot in his jeans, laughing lightly at his response. Arthur groaned against your mouth, bucking his hips in response to your touch.

“Why, Mr. Morgan, so quick to arouse! Whatever could that be for?”

He hung his head into the crook of your shoulder and sighed. “Got this woman that fills my head with thoughts that are pure torture and sin. Have to watch her walk around, knowing what she sounds she makes when it’s just me causing the noise. After all that, when I finally get to touch you? Sweetheart it’s hard to not...well, you know.”

A blush worked its way up his cheeks as he pulled away from you. You knew his mind would quickly turn to shame so you grabbed his hand and pulled him away; through the house and up the stairs to the room you shared together.

“I’m, I’m the same Arthur. I didn’t mean to tease you. Anytime I find myself dreaming of you...it’s not decent.” You laughed with your arms crossed and watched for his reaction. His eyebrows shot up at your words but he kept his gaze on your face as you spoke. “I’ve never felt like this Arthur, like at times I might burn up and die if you don’t touch me right that minute. It’s crazy and wild, but I hope it never goes away. Wouldn't trade you for anything in this world.”

Arthur’s blue eyes sparkled as you approached him and he hung his arms around your waist. “How’d an ugly old cowboy like me get so lucky with a woman like you? Maybe you hit your head harder than we thought leaving Blackwater.”

You chuckled. “I’ll happily spend the rest of my life convincing you you’re more than you see, Arthur Morgan. I hope you know I’m in for the long haul.”

“Well,” he grabbed your hand and kissed below your engagement ring. “I’m glad you know what I meant when I asked you to marry me.”

You threw your head back laughing, feeling happy and aglow inside. The conversation would have continued if a voice down below hadn’t started to yell for Arthur to come join the group, leaving you to sigh. “One day, we won’t be dictated by everyone around us.” Arthur agreed and followed you out.

Hosea greeted you both with a beer, smiling and starting some idle chatter. Arthur and he discussed his run into town, and you could have sworn once or twice Hosea’s eyes cut to you before speaking but it may have been the beer warping your thoughts and perception.

Sean was leading the group in an Irish song about being back home in Donegall and motioned for you to join, eager to have another voice in the mix. You smiled and raised your beer to decline his offer as you enjoyed resting against Arthur for the time being.

“You ever sing Arthur?”

He shook his head. “Nah, wouldn't subject anyone to that kind of torture.”

“Sure he does!” Grimshaw pipped up next to you. “Heard him humming along when he does chores or helps out, thinks no one is around though.”

You laugh as Arthur tipped his head down. Clearly it was something that he didn’t want to be pressed on any further.

The night continued on with a beautiful sparkle. Everyone was relaxed and happy as the music filled the air to cover the melody of crickets and frogs coming up from the swampy bayou. The drinks flowed freely and the sight of Abigail holding little Jack again was enough to put a smile on just about everyone’s face, even Charles who wandered over every so often on guard duty. Dutch had declined making a speech early on in the night and stuck to his resolve, Molly close by his side as they drank and talked. It felt like it had been ages since the two got along for more than a few minutes and you could see how young Molly looked as the scowls and crying stopped. You felt like a real and proper family for the first time in ages and it warmed you that things felt semi normal.

Javier approached you later on with a bottle in his hand. “YN! Have you seen Miss Tilly? I have a question but can’t seem to find her anywhere.”

You shook your head. “Last I saw her was with Mary Beth going on about something, Arthur may have but he’s over talking to Lenny and Sean.”

The two of you looked over at the sound of roaring laughter and Lenny nearly falling off of his chair. Sean was bent in half, laughing harder than you had ever seen him while Arthur wiped tears from his eyes in between speaking. He must have been telling some story to the younger men as there was a lull and he leaned in dramatically to tell the last line and off they went again. Javier muttered something under his breath and you laughed along, happy to see them all enjoying the evening. After a few moments of chatting Charles came up to tell Javier they were switching for guard duty, much to Javier’s pleasure. He nodded to you and headed off towards the perimeter of the camp.

“Seems to be a lively mood tonight.” Charles looked around the group as he spoke.

“Everyone is lighter, we got Jack back and it’s a good time, I think. Dutch hopefully has something up his sleeve and I’m so happy I could burst. Not to talk about it all the time.” Charles smiled at you as you continued to gush about camp and being happy with Arthur. He understood you meant it out of love and not to overshadow anything else going on.

“Just hope we can get out of here soon. Being in the swamps makes me anxious. I’ve seen gators out there as tall as me and twice as strong, I have no intention of going near that water anytime soon.”

You shuddered at the thought. The swamps had not called to you while staying at Shady Belle and you hoped to keep it that way. “Something about the way they move. Give me the creeps.”

“Speaking of creeps,” Charles muttered to you. Micah walked into camp and held his arms up like a king greeting his subjects. No one met him the way they did Arthur hours earlier and his face soured into a scowl. Dutch called out a greeting but it was only met with a wave before he made his way to the fire to sit down by Bill. The two of them scoured and slumped in the corner while the rest of the camp carried on lively.

“Hey! Bring me a drink.”

You looked at Micah as he called over to Charles. Standing frozen you began to worry how this would play out. Micah yelled again, this time including a slur which was met with protests from those sitting nearby. Charles tensed up and you laid a hand on his arm to try and keep him away but by then Arthur had sauntered over. His eyebrows narrowed at the sound of Micah’s voice.

“Just ignore him, Charles He’s trying to make himself feel powerful.”

Charles nodded but his hands balled into fists as Micah continued to yell. Finally he burst.

“Get your own damn beer, you coward!” Charles smashed his bottle on the ground and huffed his chest, breathing heavily. Micah stood and began to stalk over but not before Dutch stopped him in his tracks.

“Enough! Micah, take a walk. The rest of you relax, there’s not much that can bring down my mood like infighting.” He shook his head, looking around the group. “Really. Tonight is a celebration, let’s keep it that way.”

You let go of Charles and watched him stalk off to the other side of camp. Arthur sighed beside you. “Here’s hoping he gets lost in the swamps.”

Laughing, you dug your elbow into Arthur’s ribs as he raised his bottle. It was a good thought but you didn’t want anyone to hear his nasty thinking. It was one thing to know Micah was disliked by the group, but another to be the ones actively voicing that opinion.

The rest of the evening carried on in a much lighter mood. People continued to sing and dance even after Javier retired his guitar for the night. He wanted to spend some time out on the docks and enjoy the moon and the stars. John and Abigail got into it for a bit, biting remarks coming one after another until Jack told them to stop and they seemed to sober up. Up until that point their normal had been to disagree, but you hoped moving forward things would change. Hosea retired early, as well as Grimshaw and Uncle leaving most of the gang gathered in clumps around the house. At one point you thought you saw Mary Beth and Tilly run off together, but no one could find them by the time you went to bed. Kieran had just left for guard duty when Arthur tugged on your arm to head upstairs. Never before had you been so grateful to see your mattress, even if it was just too small for the both of you.

The sun crept through the broken blinds the next morning to greet you. Knowing you should get up but not wanting to, you rolled over and snuggled into Arthur’s side to block out the sun. His snores drowned out any thoughts you had of sleeping in for a while, but you eventually stood and stretched to start the day. The beauty of the sun shimmering through the leaves and broken bits of paint drew you outside into the morning light. You picked off a piece and held it in your hands, admiring the way the dew settled so gently on its edges. As you enjoyed the moment a sound caught your attention, and you could just see two figures pressed up against the wall of one of the small structures out behind the house. Stretching as far as you could over the railing, you caught a glimpse of Tilly’s yellow gown as she and the other person moved out of your sight. A giggle floated through the air and you froze, knowing what kind of sound that was. Tilly wasn’t alone, but she definitely wanted to keep up the illusion and not be found.

You smiled and made your way downstairs, pondering about who the lucky person could be. More than once you had caught Javier speaking in hushed tones to Tilly and thought they would be very suitable together, she seemed to bring a softer side out of the passionate man.

But that thought was dashed as Javier greeted you from the gazebo at the front of the property. He was cleaning his fishing pole after returning from a short trip with Hosea. A box of perfectly gutted fish sat next to him and he lightly sang until you approached. Javier was a perfectionist; making sure that each stroke of his blade was worth the effort he put in to move it.

“Morning, YN! Why the face? Something wrong?”

You shook your head, looking around the grounds. “Not wrong, I just thought I knew something but turns out I was wrong. I didn’t have anything figured out.”

“Ah, now I see. And what is it you thought you knew?”

Javier was a proud man and your friend, and you didn’t want to upset him by saying an assumption that was clearly so far from true. You leaned back against the railings of the structure and crossed your arms. “It’s silly. You’ll just laugh at me.”

“Nonsense!” he cried while dropping his fishing pole. He gave you his full attention. “How about I promise not to? Make you feel better?”

Just as you were about to confide in Javier, a soft giggle interrupted your thoughts. From around the back corner of the house Mary Beth walked alone with a flush in her cheeks and a smile across her face. You watched her as she seemed to float by, ignoring everyone who passed in favor of the thoughts moving around her head.

You tilted your head, thinking, when something seemed to settle in place.

“Oh!” You whirled around to face Javier who looked conflicted, eyes darting between you and Mary Beth off in the distance.

“YN, just let it go, don’t say anything you -”

“No, Javier don’t worry!” you smiled. “It’s not, I just saw Tilly out back and thought it was you with her! That’s why I didn’t say anything. But you knew, didn’t you?”

Conflict flashed across his face as he watched you. “I...yes, fine, I knew. Tilly came to me to confide and talk about it, she felt like it was wrong from what others have told her in the past. But...love isn’t wrong, it should be taken and cherished in any form it’s sent. And Tilly is one of the best women I’ve ever met, reminds me why I’m in this gang in the first place.”

“Javier, that was beautiful. And please know I would never say anything to her, the secret is safe with me.”

He sat back relieved and smiled. “Some people don’t get it. Glad you’re a good one.” You chatted for a few more minutes before your stomach gave you away for being starving, and you left Javier to sing again once more. Breakfast had just been served and you wanted to go wake Arthur.

The door pushed open slowly and you found Arthur kneeled down by the bed. He faced you with a smile that melted your heart and you sat next to him, gently squeezing his shoulder before greeting him for the day.

“What are you doing down there, cowboy?”

A smile tugged his mouth to one side at the nick name. “Need to head into the city for a few hours, trying to find something though, ain’t where I left it.”

“Is it by any chance a letter? Perhaps from Mary Linton?”

Arthur had a dark expression on his face for an instant. “You found it.”

“It was on the floor of our room, Arthur, but I thought you would talk about it with me instead of just running off. Is that who you’re going to see? Mary?” Your voice was quiet but steady as you spoke. The emotion coursing through your veins didn’t have a name yet, and you couldn't tell if the beating of your heart came from fear or something else.

“I...she wrote me for help, YN. That’s all.” Arthur avoided your gaze as he spoke. “Mary and I go back, way back, and I swear this is the first time she wrote me in years. I found her in Valentine when her younger brother got involved in something stupid, and now it sounds like her family is in trouble again. I don’t like being yanked every which way, but I owe her.”

“Is that all it is?”

Arthur drew in a sharp breath. “Of course! You think I’m running around behind your back?”

“No,” you looked down at your hands. “But from what she said it didn’t sound like it was the only time you had spoken of late. I get keeping people from your past, Arthur. I’m not mad. I just wanted to hear it from you.”

“I promise, YN, there ain’t anything to tell. Years ago, we were engaged but her daddy knew better than to let his only daughter run off with an outlaw and put his foot down. We tried to stay in touch, didn’t work well. Kept fighting and bringing up things neither of us wanted to discuss. So I told her that if she knew what was best for her to never write again. Turns out she married some old fool; we both moved on.” Arthur shuffled around while talking, clearly a sign of talking of uncomfortable subjects for too long. “Like I said, first time I heard from her in years was needing help back in Valentine. Her brother joined some group, she had me convince him to leave and go home. I’ve always been good at scaring people into doing things they don’t want to and she knew it. I’m not looking forward to going into town, but I don’t like to leave people in need.”

You snorted and thought to yourself before responding. On one hand, it made perfect sense that Arthur would help Mary. She was a single woman in the city with nowhere left to turn, and wasn’t in a position to make it publically known she was in need of assistance. Women who ran families did so at a detriment to themselves, for every move was over analyzed and ridiculed at the first sign of weakness. On the other hand you didn’t want Arthur spending time with someone he used to love and wanted to marry, even if that was years ago. It felt invasive and you made up your mind.

“Arthur I...I don’t think you should go.”

He looked at you surprised. “This ain’t really up for discussion here. She needs help and I’ll see her off.”

Your heart started to pound at the impending conflict. You had always had a small temper and you felt it rise as you spoke, unable to hide how much this choice had hurt you.

“But as your fiance, I thought we would talk about it. Look at it from my point of view; a woman who was engaged to you suddenly wants your help? Right after we get engaged?” Your voice kicked up in volume and you heard the heat in your words. “And what if this isn’t the end of her requests? Will you always just run off after her and leave me here?”

Arthur stood in front of you with a dark look in his eyes. It was times like these that you knew why Strauss sent him off to collect debts. His deep blue eyes had seen many things in their lives and knew how to bend the will of the person before him. It would be terrifying to face this man and hope to win.

As he spoke his shoulders rose in anger. “As my fiance you should trust me, and know I’m making the right call. This ain’t about you, sweetheart, you best leave it alone.”

The use of your favorite term of endearment felt like a slap across the face and you stood to match him. You were unsure of why you spiraled so quickly into anger about this but you felt your hands shake as you balled them into fists at your side.

“Don’t call me that. And answer the question; will you always be running away from me?”

“Only if you sound as shrill as you do right now!”

You took a step back. “What is wrong with you? That’s all you have to say?”

“I’m not...god dammit.” Arthur rubbed his eyes and turned away. “I didn’t mean that, I just, you two get in my head and it -”

“Don’t you dare lump me in with her, Arthur Morgan.”

Your voice was low and cold. The mood in the room shifted from quick, fast anger to something much more permanent and heavy. Arthur turned to face you and it was all you could do to hold his eyes and not burst into tears. This was your first fight over something real and tangible, not the silly squabbles that were fixed with a few words and a smile. At first this thing with Mary was nothing more than a question as to why the letter was hidden away like a secret. But now it felt like you were defending yourself as Arthur’s choice over Mary, which you knew was utterly ridiculous.

Wasn’t it?

He took a deep breath before continuing. “YN, I didn’t mean for this to go so wrong. All I wanted was to help out someone who needed it, and things got all messed up. Please know, darlin’, I would never run away from this, you are exactly who I need.”

It was sweet; a plea and a lifeline that should have ended things right then and there. You should have smiled and sat down to talk about the situation like adults and explained your point of view. But something about that route felt too easy, a way out, so you pushed it to the side and threw your caution to the wind.

“It sounds so nice, doesn’t it?” Your tone caught Arthur’s attention as something was clearly wrong. “That I’m exactly who you need. Wrapped up with a little bow. But there’s something missing, and it’s clear in the way that you want to help Mary. We cannot live together in your life, Arthur, you either have to bury the past and move on with me or ignore what we have for what used to be. I won’t fight you on going to see her today, I don’t like ultimatums. But know I won’t stay if I know your heart is divided.”

With his hands on his hips he walked the length of the room. He picked up a photo and stared, lost in the memory for a moment before setting the frame back down. For a few more minutes Arthur silently stalked the perimeter gathering his thoughts as he went. You felt like your heart was about to leap out of your chest from the way it kept time with his footsteps.

Finally, he broke his silence. “Did you misunderstand me the day I proposed?”

“What?” you sputtered, completely thrown off.

“I asked you, as a woman, to be joined to me, as a man, for better or for worse.” Arthur stridded over and stood before you. “There’s no division in my heart and I won’t stand here and be accused of loving another woman. Now, I’ve done some pretty bad things in this life, but breaking my oath? My word? I would never do that. You know loyalty’s all we got sometimes. As long as you’re going to act like a child, you’ll be treated like a child, so you’ll forgive me if i ignore the nonsense coming out of your mouth.”

You moved to block Arthur as he began to leave the room, but he continued without a glance back and ignored your protests.

“Once we’ve had some time to cool off we can discuss this, but I don’t trust myself not to say something I’ll regret later.” With a tip of his hat he left, the door swinging closed behind him and ended the argument.

In a fit of rage you picked up the nearest photograph and hurled it at the wall, rejoicing in the way the glass shattered into a thousand little pieces. It was satisfying to see something physical to represent how you felt inside, angry and still unwilling to let go of your side. Never had someone had such an affect on you, not your father or your mother or even poor sweet Henry. Arthur Morgan affected you so completely it was enough to make you scream. It made you feel powerless and fully in control at the same time, which when you thought about it too much made your head spin from the beating of your heart and the blood pulsing in your veins.

You stood still to calm yourself down and watched the sunlight pass through the leaves outside the window. They swooped and swayed in the breeze, and thinking of them brought you back to a normal level of thinking. You sighed looking at the damage from your outburst and began to clean up the tiny shards so no one would be hurt later. When you turned the picture over you let out one barking laugh, for you had serendipitously selected the photograph of the woman who brought you to this place; Mary Linton.

The door opened slowly after a soft knock. Abigail stuck her head in and saw you hunched on the ground looking at the broken picture.

“Oh, dear I’m sure we can fix it. Here, let me see the damage.”

“Oh,” you sighed, “it runs deeper than you can see.” You handed her the picture and watched her face intently. At first Abigail was surprised, then confused, and she finally settled on angry.

“Ah. I see she’s finally crawled back out of her hole and wormed her way into Arthur’s life again.” She brushed off the bits of glass and picked up the rest in her skirt, dumping the trash out of the window. “I wasn’t here last time, obviously, but John said she nearly broke him. What a vile woman coming after him now! He’s got you, he’s happier than I’ve ever seen him and she just wants to ruin that.”

Part of you agreed. The selfish, small part of you that wanted to hate this woman because she simply had poor timing. It was the same part that made you lash out at Arthur instead of talking about it, as he so fondly said, like a child. You told Abigail about everything that had happened from the letter to your fight and she listened intently, always paying attention to you.

“She ain’t evil, Abigail. She’s a woman in need. And honestly I should be grateful that I’m with someone who sees the good in the choice he made. Imagine if it was you or me asking, reaching out to someone we knew could get the job done no matter what, for help. Would you want to be turned down just because they’re with someone new?”

Abigail stood by the window, mouth opening and closing as she tried to formulate a response.

“I made a mess of things just because I got a little jealous. Do you think I should go after him?” You watched your friend smile.

“I want to say you should never chase a man after a fight. That it’s his job to come around to your side and see he was wrong, but we both know my experience lies with someone a little less brainy than Arthur.” She moved back to lean against the window frame. “You’re more adventurous than me, YN. You’re brave and smart, so I think we both know that you’re going to go after him and set things right. I’ve always admired your ability to put goodness first. I never got a chance to see that way of life, but I’m sure glad you did.”

You swept Abigail into a hug, laughing. How lucky had you been running into her? She had told you before she rarely befriended people, but something about you made her change her ways in Blackwater and you had found a true life friend. That was something you would always be grateful for.

“Alright then, it’s settled. I’ll head into Saint Denis and track Arthur down so I can apologize for being a total ass.”

Abigail laughed and squeezed your arm. “Well, you’re a lady so I’d say you only have to apologize for being half an ass. Never let them know when he’s seen the whole thing. Sets a standard."

An hour later you were riding off with Charles who had agreed to your plan. He had a need to go into the city anyways, despite hating the place, and thought he knew a good place for you to start your search. Arthur had taken the letter to Mary so no one knew exactly which hotel she was at but there were only a few which meant it would be easy to locate.

"A friend told me to head towards the old market, the one in that alleyway. Not sure why but said I would find it interesting. I'll take you to Arthur on the way."

You didn't reply beyond a nod at the strange request Charles had. The gang often found themselves running errands without knowing the full purpose. It was hot in Saint Denis and you regretted putting on the long dress you had chosen to impress Arthur. Although the colors were beautiful the multiple layers seemed to grow in weight the longer you sat on Eclipse's back, sticking to your skin with sweat.

Charles led you down a maze of streets and you found yourself lost again in the wonder of the city. You knew most of the group hated to be in the pit of civilization because it threatened their ideals and way of life, but you loved the pulsing vibrancy that radiated from people walking down the street and the bustling of change in the air. It felt like each building had a story, good or bad, and was only waiting to be listened to so its secrets could be told. It was exactly what the gang hated that drew you into the melting pot of Saint Denis.

“You say a friend of yours led you to the marketplace? And who might that be?”

As he dismounted, Charles grunted. “Just someone I met who I can trust. He lives in the city, travels around and gives information when he can.”

The two of you stood at the entrance of a street market. Behind you, the train yard was loud and busy with the metal screeching of brakes and shouts going to and fro. You took in the sights and the smell with a deep breath.

“You like it here, don’t you?” You nodded back at Charles. “I can’t stand it. Feel like I can’t watch my back, someone’s always there watching.”

“There’s so much life!”

In the market itself were about a dozen or so stalls, all decorated with bright colors of rugs and food being sold. People shouted their wares and you were tempted to stop and sample a few, but one look at Charles quieted that option. No matter how wonderful everything was around you, Charles Smith was unshaken in his resolve to be stoic and rocklike in appearance.

“I like the feeling of freedom, how it moves in the people. There’s art and education and all of the things I never had sitting right at their fingertips.” You were quiet for a moment as you contemplated the city again. “It’s not jealousy, if that’s what you are thinking. It’s the opportunity to make your own decisions here, to know that you would be allowed to fail and grow. It’s, well, it’s true freedom if you ask me.”

“Not everyone is free here, though, do you know that my child?”

You had made it through the market without anything catching Charles’ eye and as you reached the exit a voice called out to you. A monk in long black robes stood against the stone wall holding a bowl out to you with a few donations thrown in. He had a kind face with lines around his eyes and mouth that deepened when he smiled. While a full beard covered his jaw and neck, his head had been shaved and shone in the midday sun.

“I’m sorry?”

“Well, while you and I are able to walk around and enjoy this beautiful freedom, some are starving and will have to fight just to get by. Are you able to donate so that they won’t go hungry tonight?” The man gently extended the bowl towards you and without any hesitation you dropped in a handful of coins. The man’s smile widened and he put the donation tin down before extending his hand.

You introduced Charles and yourself. “Brother Dorkins, a pleasure to meet you.”

“How are you getting on out here, Brother? Enough food to last?” Charles’ gruff voice spoke behind you and at first you thought he was being sarcastic. But he had a soft look in his eye and you could tell he respected the Brother for using his life to help those less fortunate.

“These are a somewhat apathetic lot, I’m afraid.” Brother Dorkins peeked around the wall into the market as if he was checking on something. You shared a look with Charles before he spoke.

“Our uh, mentor says that America is designed to induce apathy in people.”

“That’s a wonderful insight!” The monk crossed back over and stood in front of you. “He must be a wise man, your mentor.”

“He’s probably the best of the lot of us.” You replied. Charles hid a smile behind his hand as you winked in his direction.

“That’s wonderful. The, the thing is I’m...well, poverty will always be with us, but slavery I-I thought we had banished that.” Standing on his toes Brother Dorkins looked over the stone wall back into the market. You started at his words and saw a flash of anger in Charle’s expression.

“Slavery?”

“Saint Denis is acting as a staging post for shipping slaves off to some of the islands.”

“Where are they coming from?”

“South, mostly Mexico. You should take a look for yourself, I’ve heard that the pawnbroker down the block around the corner, the one with the green door, well they say he sells more than forlorn trinkets.”

Like a bullet Charles took off, shoving through the crowd to get to the pawnbroker. You cast a sympathetic look back at Brother Dorkins and promised to return shortly after dealing with the supposed slavers. Part of you wouldn't believe what you had heard. Slavers? In this day and age? But from the way Charles was dead set on putting a stop to it you realized it must be a reality for people who didn’t look like what folks thought of as ‘American.’

Just as you rounded the corner Charles put an arm up, holding you back. Silently you looked on to see what slowed his war path when you saw him. Holding who you could only imagine was the pawn shop owner pinned to the wall, Arthur hissed a threat out between clenched teeth as a woman stood nearby, peeking around the corner onto the encounter.

“What’s he doing?” Charles shook his head as his eyebrows pulled together in confusion. A few moments went by and finally the shop owner pulled something from his pocket, slamming it into Arthur’s hand as a pass to be let go. Your fiance dropped the man and stalked off down the alley towards the woman as the owner ran back into the green door, slamming it behind him.

“Probably got roped into helping someone...retrieve something.”

“That’s putting it lightly,” you chuckled. The scene disturbed you but it was something you were going to have to deal with later. You walked behind Charles towards the store.

A small bell rang as you entered the cluttered shop. Only a few rooms wide, the shelves were packed to the ceiling and it was a wonder anyone found what they were looking for. Books were next to pictures and boxes of jewelry in odd arrangements and made no organizational sense. It got worse the further you walked, and around the corner you saw the man from the alley wiping his brow.

“Oh, customers. Well if you’re going to buy something, be quick about it and if not, get out.” You placed a hand on Charles’ arm at the man's words and walked up to the counter, leaning over and resting your head in your hand.

“I’m looking for something...special.” You began. The man was still flustered and not paying attention and for the distraction to work he needed to be watching you.

“This is a full shop you must be more specific,” he snapped before finally turning to face you. You batted your eyes and leaned in close to block the view of Charles snooping behind you.

“I was thinking of a necklace, something long and daring. Can you help me out? Want it to hang down to here…” the man’s eyes trailed down your bust as you dragged a finger south to keep his attention. “What do you think?”

“I, umm,” he fumbled with the handkerchief in one hand and his glasses in the other. “I think, hey! You, get away from there.”

As the owner moved around the counter towards Charles you stopped him with the sound of your pistol hammer clicking into a loaded position. He looked down at the cold metal being pressed into his midsection and jumped back, confused about your quick change of appearance. You shrugged, a small smile playing on your lips.

“What on earth is going on here? Is this a robbery?” You shook your head as a loud sound behind you made you watch Charles. He had found a secret doorway behind a bookshelf and dragged the structure away to reveal a set of stairs. He nodded at you then headed down. A sigh escaped from the shop owner before you hushed him, bringing your gun up a bit higher to level with his chest. He must know what was going on.

Not five minutes later Charles emerged with two other men speaking quick Spanish to each other. As the trio left the main room a thought occurred to you.

“Actually, we’re robbing more than your slaves,” you spit out. “Give me the cash in your register and know that if my friends and I hear of more trouble you’re causing that it will be your last. People aren’t objects, you sack of shit.” With the cash in your hand you finally left, feeling good about what you and Charles had accomplished together.

Your victory was short lived however as Charles grabbed you by the shoulder and practically dragged you back towards Brother Dorkins on the other side of the market.

“What the hell!” You hissed.

“Don’t look back, he’s here.”

You rolled your eyes. “We saw Arthur together, ain’t a bad thing to be out -”

“Not Arthur,” Charles looked around before pushing you and the freed slaves at the monk. “Your father.”

“He’s here?” You could feel the blood race through your veins as the adrenaline pumped faster through your body. Your heart kept time with the footsteps all around you and it was suddenly hard to focus.

“Brother Dorkins, you were right. We broke them out and took the cash. Here, please,” Charles handed over the wad of cash you had secured. “Not to cut this short but she has to get out of here.”

The monk nodded solemnly. “God works in mysterious ways, my friends. I see the trolly coming around the corner, perhaps that’s a good escape?”

You nodded. “Charles, go with Brother Dorkins, make sure he gets them out of here safe. I’ll meet you at the end of the line.” He nodded and patted your back, taking one last glance behind you before leaving down the street with the other men.

You anxiously walked towards the approaching street car and flagged it down, desperate to be hidden and out of sight. The driver slowed and waved you up. Just as you took a seat next to a young woman your father walked out to the street, looking around to where you had just been as two of his agents turned back to wade through the market. You ducked down to hide your face, apologizing as you pushed up against your poor neighbor to keep yourself safe. After the trolley moved down around the block you sighed and leaned back.

“I am so sorry, ma’am, please forgive my brutish behaviour. I was trying to escape someone I knew, my father actually.”

At first her dainty features were pulled together in annoyance. It was deserved, you had shoved yourself into her seat and hidden in her dress without saying a word. But after you apologized she softened and laughed lightly.

“I can tell you a thing or two about trying to outrun a father, must be some womanly rite of passage in this city. But all is forgotten.” She fanned her face gently as the afternoon heat hit its peak. “I actually just had a run in with my father myself, chased him all around town just to end up back where I started. What is it about men that they think they can outsmart us?”

You laughed, the tension quickly leaving your shoulders. “Must be something to do with the fact they sired us, like a paternal bond they will forever lord above us.”

“I agree! Although I’ve never heard someone talk about it so boldly as yourself. You sure you’re alright, miss?” You nodded. This woman was sharp and you instantly liked her. It probably had something to do with her not screaming as soon as you sat down and confessed you were outrunning your father.

“I’ll be fine. Truth be told this isn’t the first time I’ve had to hide from him.” You paused for a moment before speaking again. “I probably shouldn’t say that to a stranger.”

At that she held out her white gloved hand in an introduction. “If we’re going to continue to share secrets we can do away with the strangers part. You might as well know my name. I’m Mary. Mary Linton.”