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bleachcakes · 7 days

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My self Indulgence Writing 👍 uh Karen Jones X Oc

It had seemed like a good idea at the time, really. It was simple work, robbing desperate, drunk men. They see a pretty young woman, such as Karen, and they fall head over heels with a bit of eyelash batting. Stupid fools. Feed ‘em some whiskey and suggest, “why don’t we go get a room somewhere…” and they’ll fall right into your hands. Honestly, it was like taking candy from a baby. It almost made her feel bad sometimes. Almost. Until she remembered they only ever follow her because she’s pretty. Because she promises them sex and good times.

Townsmen would never spare her a glance if she couldn't flaunt her ‘feminine wiles’, which must be why Grimshaws such a hag, Karen mused. That woman never got much attention now that she was out of her prime. Karen supposed it suited her, always making them do the menial chores. She and the other girls had to sneak around the woman just so they could pester Uncle to take them into Valentine for a bit of fun. Arthur hitched a ride too, which was nice. He always made Karen feel a little more seen in camp. Arthur was a good man. Not like those slobs, Bill or Micah, the sleazy bastards.

Robbing drunk men looking to get their dick wet wasn’t much of ‘real’ outlaw work in Karen’s mind, but it was the job she could do, and she did it well. One day she’d like to be more out there. Robbing stagecoaches, jumping on trains, killing O’Driscoll’s like she was a woman outta hell. One day. Today was another day of snaking cash out of stupid men.

This one was a little different. He didn’t want a room. He wanted something ‘interesting and rugged’. This drunk freak wanted to get laid out in the woods like he was hiding from disapproving parents. It took a lot in her for Karen not to laugh right in his face at the notion. Instead, she grinned and tilted her body forward so her chest was on full display to the man’s unsubtle ogling. “Sure honey, that sounds like fun,” she said.

Woodland robbery might even be easier than hotel robbery. In a hotel, you have to worry about others hearing the ruckus and calling the lawman. It’s not good to get caught stealing in the middle of town, with too many people, too many eyes, and far too many guns that could stick you up with. It was a rush, knowing the danger. However, considering Karen and the rest of the camp were supposed to be trying to keep a low profile, it might be better to take a less ‘guns blazing’ approach. As long as they steered somewhere secluded, there would be no trouble. It was the wild, after all. Plenty of people could have come by and robbed the man of everything but his knickers. Even if someone saw her leaving with the man, she could fabricate a story that she was also robbed.

It was an extra risk not having her own horse to ride out on. It would be harder to get away if something went south. She figured she could nab the man’s horse easily, at least. She was a real gentle beast, probably used to being ridden under the influence of all the drink the man took. Maybe she’d even take it back to camp once she was done with it. Kieran would take good care of her, a nice Turkoman. She could give some company to Old Belle.

Karen absentmindedly ran her fingers softly over the horse’s side. It whinnied softly and Karen frowned. Maybe she would let the girl go instead. Give her a chance to run free for a while, maybe get back to the roots of those wild horses roaming the plains. Karen wished she could do the same. Damn ‘low profile’.

“There,” Karen said. The man, whose name Karen couldn’t be bothered to remember, pulled the horse to a stop on the trail and followed Karen’s point with his eyes. Carefully, he led them into the pointed-out spot, navigating his horse through the thicket and into the woods. The trees cut them off from the view of the trail, a nice covering for the planned deed.

It seemed like a good idea at the time, really. Karen wasn’t a damsel in distress, she could handle herself. It just so happened that sometimes other people could handle her better.

“Fuck!” Karen grunted as she tumbled to the ground. The force of the man’s punch had completely knocked her from her feet, pain and shock briefly short-circuiting her brain. Her gun flew from her hands, hiding itself away among the shrubbery.

“Tryna rob me?” The man snarled. “Are you trying to rob me?” The man snarled but dressed down to his Long John’s, he wasn’t quite as intimidating as he could have been.

“Not tryna’, am,” Karen shot back, her busted lip curling into a sneer that dripped blood onto her teeth and settled an iron tang over her tongue. She picked herself up from the ground and charged the man. She knew he didn’t have his weapon, and now that she didn’t either, things were going to end in a tussle.

Karen rammed her body against the man, her shoulder jutting up to knock his chin. Karen’s shoulder jutted up and knocked the man’s chin, causing his teeth to rattle and clack together as his head was thrown back. He swayed on his feet and Karen returned the favor of a punch, planting her fist into his stomach. The man doubled over with pain, Karen smirking in triumph. She kicked at his knees, dropping him to the ground. “Dumb bastard, yer gonna pay.”

She reached toward his head, poised to render him unconscious with a single blow. The man still had some fight left in him, however. His adrenaline kicked up, and he shot forward. The man’s hands grasped for a hold on Karen to steady himself, but his momentum was too much. His weight throws them both back, and the man lands on top of Karen. Karen’s lungs spasm from the force and she feels the wind get knocked from her. She wheezes for a moment, struggling to breathe.

The man, realizing his newfound advantage, acts on his rage. He strikes Karen again, his knuckles digging into her cheek. Karen winced, bringing her hands to try to push the man off. Pain was blossoming over her face and she knew she’d have a mighty bruise the next day. If she lived to the next day.

“Get off- get off!” A slight gurgle cut the rest of Karen’s shouts off as the man’s hands circled Karen’s neck. His thumbs pressed against the side of her throat, pushing the veins in with a painful sensation. Karen’s eyes bugged out as her oxygen depleted. All she could see above her was the filthy dog panting in her face. Karen clawed at the hands around her neck, but they didn’t let up. She was going to die. Karen Jones, scammer extraordinaire, the outlaw firecracker, was going to die to a damn dog in his skivvy’s. What a way to go, Karen thought bitterly, hacking another wet gasp as she tried to fill her lungs with air.

BLAM.

Karen blinked, wet, hot blood splattered her face. Karen’s mouth dropped wide, taking in as much air as possible. She sat up, staring at the slumped-over man whose head now more closely resembled a melon a horse had stomped on. She gazed at it momentarily, the familiar view almost a fond memory, before finding the source of her saving grace bullet.

She noticed the horse first. A grand beast, a shire likely given its massive size. Its coat was dark and shiny, and its white main fell into neatly done braids. Safe to say it was beautiful, unlike anything she had ever seen. The rider matched the magnificence of her horse.

Her horse, Karen realized instantly with a blink.

The woman slowly lowered her rifle, apparently satisfied that the man she had shot wasn’t going to get back up. The woman turned it up, holding it in one hand as she looked down at Karen. She sported a cropped hairdo, shorter than anything Karen had ever seen on a woman. It gave attention to the woman’s face, a patchwork of freckles and scars. The red frown of the woman’s lips gently curled upwards, bringing a shine to her eyes as the woman carefully dismounted her horse.

She carried her rifle in one hand, pulling off her hat with the other as she approached Karen like a wounded animal. “You okay, Miss?” The woman greeted pleasantly, her eyebrows raising.

Karen swallowed thickly, getting to her feet, quick to brush off what dirt she could from her clothes and skin. “Ah- y-yes. Thank you,” Karen added, nodding to the woman. “You really saved me there.”

“ ‘course,” the woman responded nonchalantly. Now that she was closer, Karen could see the woman’s eyes were green. Green like the surrounding leaves, like she had sprung from the ground just to be Karen’s personal angel.

“Miss?” the woman said, tilting her head to give Karen an odd look.

Karen blinked, realizing the woman must have been speaking. “Sorry, uhm, still a little shaken up. My mind wandered for a moment.”

The woman nodded, offering up another kindhearted smile. Karen watched as the woman retrieved a handkerchief from her coat, drawing a pristine-looking white cloth from it. “I thought you’d might like to wipe yer face. Unless you like the blood smearing yer lip,” the woman chuckled gently, offering up the handkerchief, “I’m sure you look just as pretty, with or without.”

Karen giggled but caught herself quickly and cut off the laughter as she took the offered cloth. “Thank you, ma’am.” Upon closer inspection, Karen noticed the cloth wasn’t as clean as she thought. Spots of dried blood speckled the cloth like grime that refused to leave even after a stubborn cleaning. Karen added her own blood to the fabric, carefully wiping her bloody lip clean.

While she cleaned herself up, Karen watched the woman survey the crime scene. She walked around the dead man, kicking his body lightly to turn him over on his back. The soft sound of squelching made Karen cringe as Jessie lightly moved the blown-open head. Karen decided rather to keep her eyes on the woman who stood over the body. She had put her hat back on and now crouched over the body. Without ceremony, she snatched the man’s jewelry from him, breaking the necklace off his horse and pocketing two rings. She stuck her pockets in the man’s clothes, scouring the pockets. When those came up empty, she bent to pick up the man’s discarded clothing, digging through those. She retrieved some money and chewing tobacco, which she discarded. Most of the man’s belongings had likely disappeared along with his horse who had bolted earlier, its satchel bouncing against its flank.

Karen was surprised by how brazenly the woman robbed the man after shooting him. It was followed quickly by the irateness that she had lost out on her score. “You’re just going to rob him?”

The woman smirked, approaching Karen, and to her surprise, handed over most of the valuables and money. “He’s already dead, ain’t he? What are the squirrels going to do with his cash?”

Karen glanced at the valuables offered to her. Well, she didn’t need much convincing. Karen pocketed the belongings, her fingertips brushing the woman’s palm as she delicately scooped them up. “I like your sensibility,” Karen said, returning the woman’s handkerchief. The woman glanced briefly over the blood now decorating the white cloth, folding it over and putting it away. A different pocket, Karen noted.

“What’s your name?” Karen asked.

The woman seemed to consider her answer for a moment, eyes roaming over Karen. Unlike the usual pair of eyes that would look her up and down, however, Karen didn’t feel the least bit uncomfortable under the gaze. The usual slime was nowhere to be found in the woman’s eyes, and Karen almost felt the need to angle herself to present better, unlike her usual desire to turn away.

The woman finally answered, which was accompanied by a dramatic, sweeping bow, the woman holding her hat to her chest while her other hand went out, head bowing and feet crossing. “Jessie at your service, ma’am.”

“Jessie,” Karen repeated, mulling the name over and rolling it around on her tongue before cracking a grin. “My horseback angel.”

“The only angel is the one before me,” Jessie said, locking eyes as she delivered the compliment.

Heat rose in Karen’s cheeks, and her head turned away to avoid facing the flirtatious woman. “You talk silly.”

“Apologies, Miss, I guess I’m not right in the head,” Jessie said. Karen thought she heard disappointment tinting her words.

“It’s S’okay,” Karen said, feeling bad for her dismissal, “I’m only kidd’n.”

That seemed to lighten Jessie’s mood back up. She turned towards her horse, gesturing to it as she plopped her white hat back on her head. Her hair was ginger like Sean’s, Karen thought in the back of her head. “Would you care for a ride home? I doubt you’d like to walk out all alone after what happened.”

Karen glanced at the horse, then nodded. “Thank you, Miss Jessie. I would appreciate it if you could just bring me back to Valentine.” Hopefully, the others would be waiting for her, and hopefully without a lecture attached to the welcome committee.

Jessie nodded, stepping towards her horse and giving it a gentle pat on the neck as she took the reins. “This here’s, Baby. She looks like a brute, but she’s a kitten, really. Ain’tcha Baby?” Jessie cooed, rubbing her face into the horse’s neck, speaking to her horse like it really was a baby. “Yeah, you’re a good girl,” Jessie patted the horse once more before stepping back. She reached up to put a hand on the horse’s back, then held her other out to Karen. “She’s a big girl. Would you like some assistance up?”

Karen’s first instinct was to decline. She was sure she could manage mounting a horse quite fine, even with its size. Then she reconsidered, glancing at Jessie’s strong-looking outstretched hand. “If it ain’t much trouble.”

Turning towards the horse, Karen stretched her hands up to hold it’s back. She felt Jessie’s hands gently close around her waist, pushing with Karen’s pull. She could feel the warmth of Jessie’s hands seeping into her skin even over her skirt, and Karen’s face grew hot. Mounting the horse, Karen flipped over as she sat, her legs dangling off the side of Baby. She watched Jessie use the stirrups to get herself up, swinging a practiced leg over the gigantic horse. Few women wore pants, but it certainly seemed to make it easier for Jessie to ride. Karen leaned forward, wrapping her arms around Jessie with more contact than was necessary. Jessie grinned, taking up Baby’s reins with one more quick pat to the horse’s neck.

“I’ll deliver you quickly.”

“Oh, no need to rush on my account,” Karen said with a quick dismissal. “I’ve been stuck inside for ages,” Karen exclaimed. This is the most adventure I’ve had in a long time.” Karen empathized her words with a dramatic sigh, to which Jessie laughed.

“I couldn’t imagine, I’d go stir crazy being forced not to wander.” Then, as if testing the waters, Jessie added, “your husband keeps you in the house?”

Now it was Karen’s turn to laugh. “Who said anything about a husband? God forbid I ever get tied to a man.” Karen sighed, and without thought, her head came to rest against Jessie’s back. The woman’s leather jacket felt nice and cool against Karen’s bruised cheek. “Men only want your sex and for you to cook and clean for them…can’t tell if they’ll kiss you or hit you when drunk.

A long silence passed, the only noise being the gentle clip-clopping of Baby's hooves on the trail.

“Sounds like you’ve been hurt real bad before,” Jessie finally said. Quiet. Mournful.

“Life of a woman,” Karen said.

“Life of a woman,” Jessie agreed. Jessie’s hands tightened their grip on Baby’s reins, her knuckles turning white. “That’s why I became an outlaw. They throw you in jail for stand’n up for yourself. If the law won’t let me hold justice's weapon, then the law ain’t something I wanna follow.” Her voice was hard, and Karen pulled back, startled.

“You tell just anyone you’re an outlaw?”

Jessie glanced over her shoulder at Karen, a mischievous glint in her eyes and a smile. “I trust you.”

“You hardly know me.”

“The heart knows what the mind does not.”

Karen raised an eyebrow, chuckling. “Maybe you should become a poet instead of a gunslinger.

“I think most poets might find my usual speak’n a little too crude for their taste.”

Karen was silent. An Outlaw, huh? Karen leaned back, careful to keep her balance, as she looked past Jessie. No one was on the trail in front of her, and a glance back confirmed no one behind them either. Leaving just one hand on Jessie for balance, Karen pulled up her skirt. Jessie glanced back to see what was happening, but quickly averted her eyes when she saw the women digging her hand into her stockings.

Karen felt for the handle of the small knife she kept tucked away, then pulled it out. With a swift movement, she had the knife pressed to Jessie’s throat and her chest to her back. Jessie’s only reaction was a blink, as she continued to slowly ride Baby on the trail. “I think you trust too easy,” Karen murmured, tilting the knife so the sharp edge brushed Jessie’s skin. “I was robbing that man before he got the jump on me. Now i’m gonna rob you. Pull over.”

Baby kept trotting forward as if nothing was happening, and Jessie made no moves to pull up the reins or reach for her own weapon. Karen grit her teeth, pressing the knife harder to Jessie’s throat until it drew a thin scrape of blood that beaded on the glinting edge. “I said git to the side.”

The slow monument of Jessie’s hand caught Karen’s eye and her grip on the knife tightened. She made no move, however, even as Jessie’s hand closed around her own. She expected Jessie to take the knife from her, or maybe even throw her off the horse.

Jessie turned back to look at Karen. Karen swallowed a lump, staring into those grassy eyes, and wondering how they could be so inviting. Jessie didn’t do anything to her. She just held her hands over Karen’s until it became too uncomfortable for Karen to keep looking. She tried to pull her hand away, to take away the knife, but Jessie’s firm grip kept her pinned, kept the knife against her own throat.

“What are you doing?” Karen demanded to know, trying again to pull the knife away.

“Slit my throat. I trust you,” Jessie said simply. No trickery could be heard in her voice. No malice or even amusement. Just a simple ask.

Karen shook her head, averting her eyes. “I didn’t mean it.”

Jessie lifted Karen’s hand, licking the beads of blood off the knife before she finally released the other woman. “Why don’t you?”

“I just wanted to see what you would do.”

“You satisfied with the answer?”

Karen didn’t answer. She just replaced the knife into her skirts and lay her head back against Jessie.

“What’s your name?” Jessie asked.

“Karen.”

The rest of the ride back to Valentine was silent. As they trotted into town, Jessie jiggled her shoulder, making Karen lift her head. “Anywhere specific you want me to drop you off? The Hotel? Or Saloon?” Jessie asked.

Karen glanced around, noticing they were passing the train station. “Take me to the general store.” Hopefully, she could find the others still there. Jessie threaded them through the town, giving nods to people as she passed. Most didn’t give them more than a glance, but Karen could see the way a couple regarded them suspiciously. Or more so, Jessie, looking her clothes up and down. Jessie either didn’t notice or, more likely, just didn’t care. They neared the general store, Jessie getting closer to the side.

“Karen!” The named looked up, glancing around until she spotted Tilly flagging her down. Jessie pulled Baby to a stop as Tilly ran up to them, Karen sitting straight as she looked down at the other woman. “Where have you been? We were looking everywhere for you!” Tilly stopped, looking at Jessie. “Who’s this?”

Jessie lowered herself from Baby, nodding to Tilly. “I go by Kelly.”

Karen glanced at Jessie–Kelly?--as she turned to help Karen down. Jessie winked at Karen, and Karen decided she was still Jessie. As Karen’s feet got back on the ground, she noticed Mary-Beth joining the group. The two girls fawned over Karen as Jessie stood at her side, pointedly refusing to move out of the way and be subtly pushed out. “I’m fine, I’m fine,” Karen said, shaking off the hands, patting her back, and settling on her arms. They seemed to take a great interest in the bruise on her face and Karne didn’t much like the way her lip stung when Mary-Beth dared to set her fingers on the cut.

Tilly pulled away, glancing around before calling, “Arthur! We found’er!”

Karen looked to see Arthur walking over, Uncle in tow. He stopped up short as he saw Jessie, shaking his head before walking the rest of the way. “I thought you were going to the Hotel?” Arthur said to Karen as he regarded her and her companion, his eyes snaking up to Baby behind them. “What happened to yer face?”

Karen shrugged. “I went succeeding in the trees for a change of pace.” She didn’t exactly want to devolve the entire story in the middle of town, and neither really would she like to tell it on the wagon ride home. “Kelly,” Karen said pointedly, glancing at the woman, “was generous enough to take me back.”

Jessie nodded, “Happy to help, Ma’am.”

“Well,” Arthur said, “thanks for bringing her back. We were worried about her.”

Jessie nodded once more before stepping into her stirrups, and mounting her horse. She leaned down, gesturing for Karen to get closer. Karen shuffled forward, looking up at Jessie whose body blocked the sun behind her, leaving a soft light that gave her edges an ethereal glow. Jessie outstretched her hand, which Karen took, expecting a handshake. Instead, Jessie drew her hand closer, leaning down to plant a kiss on the back of her hand, lingering there before looking at Karen. Karen felt her cheeks grow hot as she focused on the feeling of Jessie’s callouses brushing her skin.

“If you ever want to talk again, just leave a message at the post for me.”

Karen nodded in acknowledgment, and let her hand slip from Jessie’s as much as she didn’t want to.

Taking up the reins, Jessie steered Baby around the gathered group. “Oh, and I know a good bank that needs robb’n. If you’re interested,” Jessie added with a wink before tapping her spurs into Baby’s flank and trotting down the road.

“Bank robbing?” Mary-Beth said incredulously, looking at Karen.

“What did you tell that woman?” Tilly interjected, her hands going to her hips.

Karen rolled her eyes. “You’re sure being judgemental for a lot that claims to like the Outlaw life. God, I’ll tell you about it later, let's just get back to camp.”

#rdr #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption two #red dead fandom #fanfic #fanfiction #writers on tumblr #writers #ao3 writer #original character #oc #oc x canon #karen jones

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