Biting Dust - Ch. 1
Life ain’t too easy for a woman, ‘specially not a woman on the run like you. With a bounty on your head and gunpowder in your nose, you’ve grown adjusted to a life of solitude away from the hustle and bustle of civilization. That is, until you meet one particular man who’s got a face you’d only ever seen in your dreams – or on wanted posters. And when he offers you a proposition that sounds too good to be true, well. You don’t think your life will ever be the same again…
Outlaw!Kylo Ren x Reader
5.5k ; Warnings: Mentions of murder, hanging, arson.
You wonder, sometimes. Wonder how it all turned out like this, how this was the life you now led. You wonder if you could go back and do anything over, if you’d do anything different. Sometimes you don’t do so much wondering, there ain’t the time when you’re on the run with sheriffs at your back; but times like this, with nothing but the uncharted desert sprawling out in front of you, all you could do was wonder.
Something wisps up into your eyes and you cringe as you scrub it out – sand, stinging and coarse. Nothing but sand, as far as the eye could see. You really fucking hate sand, you think, as the rising sun carries on up into the sky, bringing with it a gentle enough breeze that makes your horse, Agnes, toss her mane in delight. She whinnies softly, and you pet the back of her neck as she does, trudging through the sand after a long night of riding, a long night straight through the desert.
“Almost there,” You reassure her, “Shouldn’t be too much farther now.”
You’d robbed a bank the day before, and damn it all that had proven to be a poor enough decision. Ain’t no money in the bank, nothing at all, nothing but a whole group of cowardly men who were quick to whistle for the dogs that went bitin’ at your ankles.
They paid for that offense against you, had paid with their lives.
If only they had had any money for you to take with you, as you sped off into the night, not daring to stop until you had put enough distance between you and the men with steel.
Now, you don’t even have robbing on your mind. No, you think as Agnes chuffs and complains about the tiredness in her hooves, you’d settle for something as simple as a cool and dry bed, a hot bath, maybe enough time to clean your clothes and have a bite to eat before you’re off again.
A bed, bath, and crust of bread which you were looking forward to in the next town over. Robbing that bank hadn’t been entirely useless after-all, you use the morning sunlight to figure out this chicken-scratch cartography off the map you’d quickly grabbed before dashing out of the blazing bank, flames engulfing everyone and everything inside it as you make your escape.
“If we did this right, we should be there before the sun comes up over the canyons.” You tell her.
She only chuffs again, and you know that she too will be looking forward to a soak in a lake somewhere to wash the blood off her hide.
