#everyone else was perfectly fine. shady got downed but we short rested so her two black eyes are gone

[nejackdaw]

Usually in BG3 after a bloodbath battle anyone who was in the thick of it is just absolutely covered in blood and usually it's like, "wow, you look so cool!" It's something to admire

However this does not happen with my current tav. This is just biblically accurate Duke. He can't stop fistfighting people. He doesn't look cool. He looks even more pathetic. Love that for him

[sad-sweet-cowboah]

Tricksters

Summary: On a hot day, you decide to take a dip at a local secluded lake. When Arthur comes to join you, the two of you begin to have an interesting conversation before an untimely interruption.

Warnings: Swearing. nudity, and smut. Ya know, the norm.

Word Count: 7411

A/N: This is the first place prize from my 2k followers giveway! As requested by @lindleyjo​, she wanted a creative way of how reader interacts with a younger Arthur.

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Heat.

A sweltering, heavy blanket of humidity settled upon the land after a powerful thunderstorm raged through the previous night. Everyone within camp had slept uncomfortably, tossing and turning in a desperate attempt to shake the crushing atmosphere. If you weren’t out in the open, you yourself would have stripped naked just to have a few hours of peaceful slumber.

With the morning sun peeking over the horizon, the camp’s sleepy members arose and began with the morning chores and duties. After getting dressed you wandered out into the open, observing your surroundings. Some of the women were already working on chores, scrubbing shirts or washing dishes from the night before with Susan Grimshaw at the helm. You paused once you saw her, knowing full well she’d put you to work the moment she realized you had nothing better to do.

You turned heel in the wet grass, hurrying toward the opposite side of camp in hopes to look busy. Toward the edge of camp were a few bags of feed strewn about, and a perfect way to keep yourself from Susan’s radar. You bent over to pick one up, nearly buckling as its awkward weight shifted upon you. Still, you’d managed to place it over your shoulder.

Just as you began to step forward, you heard someone call your name.

The feed sack blocked your view, though you recognized that voice instantly. Arthur Morgan. A young and otherwise cocky gang member and a favorite among Dutch and Hosea. Shuffling your feet to face him, he appeared in your view quicker than you’d expected.

“You, uh, need help with that?” he asked with a somewhat sheepish tone.

You smiled at him. He was always offering to help you with heftier tasks, even though you’ve told him multiple times you could handle it quite well. As boisterous as he was, he was always polite with you and the other women of the camp. Sometimes it seemed as if he gave you a little more attention, unless it was just your imagination. “I’ve got it, Arthur,” you assured him, shifting yet again as the feed inside began to weigh down uncomfortably. “Thank you.”

“Thought you’d say that,” he responded with a soft chuckle, bending down to grab another. “Thought I’d offer anyway.”

“I know,” you giggled, walking around the edge of camp to where the horses rested. “Truth is, I’m just avoiding being a wash maid today. Too hot for that.”

“So you opted for heavy liftin’,” Arthur remarked, stepping by you to place his bag upon a hay bale. The horses nickered excitedly at their arrival. “Don’t seem like it’d be any cooler.”

“As long as I look busy, then Susan won’t put me to work.” You pointed out, dumping your feed bag alongside his.

Arthur dusted his hands and snickered. “’S'pose that’s fair.”

You straightened up, catching his eye briefly. The summer sun reflected in his bright blue eyes, layering a golden hue amongst the oceanic orbs. He averted his gaze once it lasted a second too long. “Er, need anything else?”

You opened your mouth, only to be interrupted by someone calling Arthur’s name. It was Dutch Van der Linde himself. The two of you turned toward his gruff voice, noting the gang leader standing by his tent, standing casually with a lit cigar resting between his lips. Hosea stood next to him, looking on expectantly.

Arthur turned to look at you again. “Never mind, duty calls. See you later?”

Giving him a short nod, you bid him goodbye while he stalked off to join the two men. They were too far away for you to listen to their conversation properly, yet you caught wind Dutch had some grand scheme planned that required Arthur’s hand. A bank or stage coach robbery perhaps. You considered volunteering yourself to come along, the thought of big money was enough of an incentive to take your mind off the heat.

“Hey! Can I come along?” a new voice tore through your thoughts. High-pitched and gritty with the transition to manhood. You watched as John Marston came galloping up to the three men.

Dutch gave a hearty chuckle and reached out to ruffle John’s mop of hair. “Sorry son, just us three.”

“You’ll come along for the next one,” Hosea promised as John opened his mouth to protest. “It’s a small job, we don’t need an extra bodyguard.”

Arthur’s lips moved, most likely mumbling to himself. Whatever he said however, John’s face turned indignant. His body tensed like a predator about to spring on its prey. Hosea stepped in between the two immediately.

“Easy now,” he said with amusement, although gave Arthur a stern glare. “Don’t tease him, Arthur.”

Arthur only rolled his eyes and folded his arms. Since John had been brought in by Dutch and Hosea a few years ago, he and Arthur have almost always been at odds. Both headstrong in their own ways, they acted more like brothers; even when Arthur adamantly denied it. John was still young and immature, thus he’d stay in camp more often than not. He huffed and stormed off, grumbling to himself while Arthur just watched with a smirk on his face.

The three of them took their leave shortly after, saddling and mounting their horses before galloping away. You watched as they disappeared from view, sighing and turning to face camp once again. It was tempting to jump onto your own horse and follow; a wishful thought.

“Y/N!” Susan’s sharp voice pierced the air. “Get your butt over here and pick up a dish rag!”

You stifled a groan, knowing you were standing idle for just a little too long from your own volition. Before Susan could come over and ream your ass, you headed over and picked up an unused rag to help the others.

After a good hour of washing dishes and mending holes in jeans, you were free. You straightened up, stretching out your aching back and cracking your stiffened hands. Sweat pooled in uncomfortable places, soaking through awkward parts of your garments. Wiping a layer of sweat from your brow, you needed relief.

Stepping into the shade of the tree line, you breathed out a sigh. Though still humid, being away from direct sunlight certainly helped. Getting away also prevented Grimshaw from finding even more work for you to do. You leaned against a trunk and fanned yourself, wishing nothing more than to dip yourself in some cold water right now.

You paused, remembering there was a lake not too far away. You’d ridden by it a handful of times, saw a fisherman once or twice. Perhaps the heat was enough to drive away any unwanted eyes. With a plan in mind, you headed back to get your horse.

The woods provided some relief to your otherwise overheated state. Thick leaves and multiple branches allowed some cover from the sun. As you trotted along a small path, a slight breeze carried through, rustling the dense green shrubbery and provided a cooling sensation to your exposed skin. The lake wasn’t too far now, and you urged your horse into a lope in impatience. Up ahead, the canopy broke away to reveal a sheet of water gently disturbed by another breeze. Glimmering beautifully under the bright sun, the surface appeared inviting. The hard packed soil and bushes soon turned into a sandy beach. Gently pulling your mare to a halt, you dismounted and stepped onto the softly shifting terrain. Your gaze scanned the circumference of the lake, only stopping to find you were alone.

Perfect.

You tied your steed to a nearby tree before eagerly shedding your clothes. You made a home for them on the rocks to dry out the sweat before you padded toward the shore. Gentle waves lapped up toward you, kissing your toes with a near frosty sensation. One foot in front of another with a slow step, you were soon embraced from the waist up. The dramatic temperature difference was almost shocking at first, fine hairs raising along your skin. It only took a moment for your body to adjust, and you sunk in further. Wrapped in the soothing cold, you reached your arms out and began to swim.

A few minutes passed by of you lazily floating through the calm waters, relaxed and uncaring of the rest of the world. You were perfectly content in that moment, free of gritty chores and the judgmental or curious eyes of others. You could spend the entire day out here, as long as no one else would ruin your peace.

Time soon became lost to you amongst the calm surface, though you couldn’t care less. Being out here was much better than drowning in your own sweat back at camp.

A thought crossed your mind. You wondered if Arthur, Dutch, and Hosea returned from their heist, and if it went successfully. Your curiosity almost had you swimming to shore to find out.

Yet with the sun still high and the sky and the air still stifling, you didn’t want to move. You’d find out later anyway.

Amongst the distant sounds of nature, you caught the shrill whinny of your mare. You immediately turned your attention to her, the horse’s head high and ears pricked forward, facing the forest. She nickered into the trees. Something had caught her attention.

Seconds later, you could hear a responding whinny, further away and still out of sight. Your heart lurched and you ducked low, keeping your eyes an inch above the water to watch. With your gun and knife still on shore, you had no way to defend yourself.

Movement in the trees formed itself into a horse and its rider, stepping from the shady canopy into the open. It were as if the Gods heard your thoughts. The beautiful coat shimmering in the sunlight belonged to Boadicea, and Arthur’s prominent face hidden under the brim of his hat. The two mares nickered to each other in greeting.

Relief flooded through you as you watched Arthur look at your horse, then glance left and right in confusion. You had to make yourself known now, lest he thought you were in trouble or worse. He hadn’t spotted your clothes yet. Despite your nudity, it didn’t bother you to be this way in his presence. With how long you’ve been a part of the gang, you’ve been around him in your undergarments multiple times. You were comfortable enough around him to know he wouldn’t attempt anything crass.

Pulling yourself up to just above chest level, you called out, “Arthur!”

His head shot up to the sound of your voice. “Y/N? Whatchoo doin’ out here?”

“Cooling off,” you responded, swimming closer to him. “What about you?”

The closer you got, you began to realize he was splattered in blood. Though the majority of it painted his vest and pants, you noticed patterns streaking across his exposed forearms, neck, and face. It wasn’t an unusual sight to see, knowing how dangerous this lifestyle was.

This tugged at your mind. Had he gotten injured in any way? “Are you hurt?” you ask.

“Er,” his gaze swept across the shore, and finally landed on the rock which your clothes lay upon.  Eyes growing wide, you could see the rosy tint in his cheeks as he looked away. Clearing his throat, he answered, “Blood ain’t mine. Actually, I was gonna come wash up out here, since I can’t exactly go back to town n’ do it… Guess this lake’s already occupied.” He tucked his head down sheepishly.

His answer allowed you to smile in relief. Though you understood his reasoning to come out here, he was one of the few you wouldn’t mind sharing this space with. No reason to force him to go elsewhere. “No it ain’t,” you responded. “There’s plenty of room for the both of us.”

“N-no, you ain’t even decent,” he stammered, biting his lip from underneath the brim of his hat. “I’ll just go –”

“Arthur,” you interjected. “It’s fine, I promise. It’s a big lake, not like we’ll be on top of one another. I don’t care.”

He refused to look at you directly, instead cast his attention across the lake in deep thought. A full moment passed before he sighed and dismounted Boadicea. “Guess I can’t really argue that…” he murmured. “Can you jus’…turn ‘round please?”

You nodded, smiling a little at his modesty. Turning yourself around and swimming further out, you waited until you heard him stepping into the water before facing him again.

He stood in waist deep water, arms held to the front of his body. The somewhat clear water was dark enough for you not to see below his navel. You’d only seen Arthur shirtless a handful of times, and each moment of stolen subtle glances you appreciated more than the last. He was certainly built nicely, his frame decorated with just the right amount of muscle.

“Don’t stare please,” he mumbled.

You abided to his wish, instead swimming a little further out with only your head above the surface. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see him beginning to bathe himself, albeit awkwardly. You had to wonder how often he would have a bath girl do the work for him. Or perhaps it was your presence skewing him? Arthur was usually arrogant and carried himself with confidence, without a care in the world of who thought what of him. It was only in the presence of those close to him did he show a different side, and you were no exception.

After a few moments of silence, the questions from earlier arose in your mind. Maybe it would be less awkward for him if you were to initiate some casual conversation. Shifting to cast a glance his way, you called out. “So how’d the job go?”

He avoided your eyes, keeping his fixated on his forearms, running his hands along to remove the stains. The water soon tinged crimson with blood pooling around him. He hesitated for a moment. “Pretty good, actually. We made out with two thousand dollars.”

Two thousand? That certainly was much more than you were expecting to hear. Out of every heist you’ve done, you’d never made it out with more than a couple hundred. “You must be pretty happy with yourself then.”

His eyes flickered to you for a brief second. “Yeah,” he agreed with a slight chuckle. “Was much more too, only had a short time to gather what we could ‘fore the law came down on us.”

“That’s a shame,” you commented. “Sounds like you needed an extra hand after all.” You remembered that little conversation John had with them.

He turned his full attention to you now, however still avoided looking at your face. “John’s too young n’ headstrong for bigger jobs right now.” He said pointedly.

“I meant me. I was gonna volunteer myself until I saw Dutch deny John.”

Arthur blinked in surprise. “Oh, uh…why didn’t ya anyway?”

You shrugged, leaning back a little to stare at the sky. “I figured he’d say no anyway. And I know you three are perfectly capable without an extra hand.”

He hummed softly in response. There was a moment of silence before he spoke again. “I don’t think he’d say no. I woulda vouched for ya anyway.”

You smiled at his comment, lifting your head to look at him again. “Thanks, but I’m sure John would have been pissed if he heard that.”

He let out a soft chuckle. “Ah, he’s still a kid. He’d get over it.”

“True,” you agreed with a giggle of your own. “Think we would have gotten away with more if I’d come along?”

Arthur gave you a crooked smile. “I think we’d get away with everything they had if you’d come along.”

You couldn’t deny that. Almost every job you’d attended ended in a successful plunder, thus earning praise from everyone in camp. You took pride in your skill even though you didn’t boast it. Dutch and Hosea saw you as one of the most productive members of the gang, of course they would have been happy for you to come along. You reminded yourself to volunteer next time despite what little Johnny Marston thought. “Guess I’ll volunteer next time, since you boys obviously need my help.” You smirked.

Arthur scoffed in response. “Hey now, that was uncalled for.” He laughed, sinking further to almost shoulder height.

You smiled at him, daring to swim a little closer.  “It’s true, ya know. Pretty sure any of those other heists wouldn’t have gone as smooth if I hadn’t been there.” You commented jokingly.

“You sayin’ we ain’t as good?” Arthur asked with a quirked eyebrow, although he couldn’t hide the amusement plain on his face.

“I’m saying that some things need a woman’s touch, even robbing.” You teased, grinning widely at him.

He rolled his eyes, stretching his arms out to propel himself slowly through the water. “Think I changed my mind, with talk like that.”

It was your turn to scoff. You knew he was only fooling with you, though while he was distracted, you took a chance to raise your arm up and splash a bit of water in his direction. Splattering across his face and head, he yelped in surprise and flinched away, raising his arms in defense.

“Damnit, Y/N!” he huffed, wiping his face of the droplets. “The hell was that for?”

You chortled in response, swinging your arms behind you to swim further away. “Don’t be angry, you’re already wet!”

Despite a prick of annoyance shadowing his features, the way his lips curled into a smile told you he certainly wasn’t completely irritated. The furrow in his brow relaxed before he spoke, “You better be careful, next time I won’t be so forgivin’.”

You paused to look at him. “Oh, that’s some big talk, Arthur Morgan!” you exclaimed, changing your direction to swim toward him once again. You stopped just a few feet away, the closest you’ve gotten so far. Shooting him a smirk, you continued, “What would the scary outlaw do to me?”

“Somethin’ not nice,” he answered, the smile never leaving his face. “Don’t think you wanna find out.”

Those words posed a challenge. As childish as this was, you weren’t going to deny yourself a little bit of fun for the time being. The two of you were still shoulder height above the water. With his wide frame and thick torso, he could have easily outmatched you on solid ground.

You launched yourself forward, throwing your hands out to slap them onto his shoulders. With a swift kick to propel your body further, it provided you with enough strength to shove him completely beneath the surface. His eyes widened in surprise and terror before his face was engulfed by the somewhat turbid lake. Immediately you yanked your hands away, spinning around as fast as the weight of the water would allow. Paddling quickly away from him, the sound of splashing and spluttering filling your ears. It would only be a matter of time before he caught up to you.

Hurrying toward the shore, his nearly beastly roar soon carried across the lake. He called out your name, and you didn’t dare to look back. He was growing closer, faster than you could reach the shallows. In a few short seconds, he was on you. Thick arms wrapping around your torso and stopping you in your tracks. You squealed out in surprise, automatically wanting to break free of his embrace. Though your struggle proved useless as he was far too strong.

“Arthur!” you cried out, voice shuddering with laughter. “C’mon, lemme go!”

“Ya pushed me, woman,” he growled in your ear. “Think I’d let ya get away with that?”

You still tried to wriggle from his grasp, only further proving it as a fruitless effort. “Was worth a shot!” you said proudly, smiling widely.

Expecting him to serve the same fate, you shut your eyes and waited for the inevitable cold grip of the water to engulf you completely. His hands grazed across your abdomen, halting at the curves of your waistline. He paused there, prompting your curiosity.

“Arthur?”

A mere second passed and the warmth of him disappeared. Waves shifted around you in the absence of him, and you turned in confusion. He had his back facing you.

“Arthur? What’s wrong?” You inquired.

“Weren’t right for me to do that,” he answered quietly. “‘M sorry.”

You frowned in confusion. Just moments ago the two of you were playing like two kids uncaring of the world. “You didn’t scare me if that’s what you meant.”

“No,” he said flatly. “The way I grabbed ya. You’re naked, weren’t proper. Stupid o’ me…”

That hadn’t even crossed your mind. The awareness had flung out the instant you began your tomfoolery, and even now you didn’t even care. “So what?” You scoff. “Nothing happened.”

“Still ain’t right,” he grumbled, moving closer to the shore. “I shouldn’ta –“

“Arthur,” your tone sharp. “We were playing around. I don’t care if I’m clothed or not, it didn’t bother me.”

He mumbled something you couldn’t hear. There was something else on his mind. In shallower waters, more of his torso was visible, streams of water cascading down his strong back, shining beautifully in the sunlight. Your breath nearly caught at the sight, but the minor distraction hadn’t removed your original intention.

“Arthur!” You called out. “Don’t leave yet!”

He froze in place.

“Talk to me, please. What’s really wrong?”

He hadn’t uttered a single word for a full minute. He breathed in again. “Don’t matter, Y/N. Sorry for bein’ handsy with you, I shoulda known better.”

He was lying. You knew him well enough by now. You sighed heavily and stood up completely, allowing your upper torso exposed to the air. Moving a little closer, you said softly, “look at me.”

You half expected him to be stubborn and walk away. Instead, he slowly turned, his eyes fixed away from your figure. Your heart began to hammer wildly in your chest. It hadn’t been too long since your state had been graced by a man’s presence. You were confident enough to not feel shy about yourself.

Especially not around Arthur.

His eyes slowly raked up your body, finally meeting your patient gaze.

Taking another deep breath, you murmured to him, “Talk to me.”

He swallowed audibly. “It ain’t important –”

“Don’t give me that. Tell me what’s wrong please,” you interjected. “Whatever it is, I won’t be mad.”

He appeared conflicted, chewing on his bottom lip in hesitation and tearing his eyes away. “It’s, uh…” he gritted his teeth and swore to himself. “Damn it, Morgan!” He ran his hand through his damp hair in what seemed to be frustration. “It’s you.” He finally uttered.

“Me?” You repeated in confusion. “What’s wrong with me?”

“No, nothin’ ain’t wrong with you, it’s…” he trailed off, becoming more flustered with each passing second. “I…I like you, Y/N.”

Out of everything in the world, it was a confession you hadn’t expected to hear. Blood roared in your ears as your heart did somersaults beneath your ribs. Arthur Morgan, liking you? Words couldn’t formulate in your mind as everything you wanted to say disappeared just as quickly as they appeared. You wanted to say something, anything, a simple response to accommodate for your lack of reaction.

He must’ve taken your silence negatively. A deep frown appeared on his face and his head hung in defeat. As he began to turn away, your hand shot out and grabbed his wrist. He stopped at an instant, slowly lifting his head to stare into your eyes once again.

His eyes. A beautiful blue-green hue twinkling brilliantly from the sunny reflection of the lake. You observed every feature of his face, from his thick sandy colored hair, down to his chiseled, stubbled jaw. Truly such a stubborn, ruthless beast who would land a bullet between a man’s eyes only to turn around and offer you help, and dance with you on cheerful occasions. Too many days you spent admiring him from afar. Too many nights spent in crowded saloons, picking up some random cowboy to swoon and come back not completely satisfied and wishing someone else would share that hotel bed with you. Too much time wasted attempting to deny your ever growing feelings for this man.

You would never admit it out loud that Arthur Morgan had your heart, long before he even knew it.

Your lips curved into a soft smile. Sliding your hand to capture his, you sensed his hesitation when you entwined his fingers with yours. “I don’t see that as a problem.” You whispered to him.

A slew of emotion flitted through his eyes in a long-lasting moment. His lips parted in attempts to speak, only to hear him release a disjointed breath. “It is,” he said sadly.

“Why?” you pressed.

“Mary.”

Mary. That one name that plagued your dreams for far too long. Arthur had been head over heels for this high society woman who frowned upon his lifestyle. She was polite every time you’d come across her, yet you saw clearly through her façade. How difficult it was to keep your mouth shut every time she peered at you with thinly veiled judgment. “Fuck Mary,” You spat it as if reciting the vilest of curses. He stared at you in surprise. “How long has it been, Arthur? Since she left you?”

“Uh, a few months…” he mumbled.

“A few months,” you repeated. “You hold no obligation over her anymore, Arthur. She’s gone. And I’m here now.”

“I know, I know,” he sighed heavily, dipping his head yet again. “It’s stupid o’ me to even keep thinkin’ ‘bout her. Every time I’ve tried tellin’ ya, I get stuck on her. It’s jus’ hard… I don’t wanna have her on my mind no more.”

The conflict hung heavy in his voice. You couldn’t be angry with him over this; he loved Mary for reasons you could never fathom. She left him to be wed and bound to live the life she dreamed, a decision that wounded Arthur deeper than any gunshot or stab of a knife.

With your free hand, you reached up to caress his jaw, prompting him to look at you. “Then let me help you forget,” you uttered.

He blinked in silence, his eyes never leaving yours. Seconds ticked by as you watched every inner thought of his displayed plain on his face. You were worried he’d refuse, until he gave a small, simple nod.

That was all you needed. Trapping his face gently between your palms, you tilted your head up, pulling yourself closer to lay a tender kiss upon his lips. A brief moment of tension felt soon released when he melted to you, kissing you with equally returned tenderness.

He relaxed completely to your touch. Large hands made their presence upon your hips, so loosely held against your bare skin. You encouraged him by taking one step closer. The heat radiating from his body negated the cool waters surrounding you. He moved to rest his palms upon your lower back, ever so hesitant to further progress. Releasing his face to favor his neck, your arms latched to him to pull your body flush with his.

Arthur’s breath hitched, his grip tightening in reaction. He parted his lips from yours, peering into your eyes. A sweet softness reflected in his, though below the seafoam surface lurked a deeper musing.

“Been wantin’ to do that,” he murmured to you. “Guess I’m too foolish to make myself wait for so long. I’m sorry.”

You shook your head in disagreement. “I don’t think you’re foolish, you’re just too stubborn to realize your own feelings.”

He gave a singular laugh, a short and deep chortle that pulsed against your chest. “I s’pose you’re right, guess I got some catchin’ up to do.”

With a hum of response, you carded your fingers through his hair. “You’ve got all the time in the world with me, Arthur Morgan. And we’re here now, just the two of us.”

A half smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. One hand released your waistline to cup your cheek, his thumb tracing the curve of your lips. Wordlessly he drew you in for a second kiss. Moving his hand to the back of your head, his fingers tangled within your locks.

Despite his large frame, he held a certain tenderness unlike any other man you’d been with. A lack of urgency and force to indulge in a lustful night. Every blissful moment here you wanted to last forever, remaining in this lake and far from any civilization.

The kiss soon deepened, easing your tongue to invade him. He allowed you to, following your lead without a moment of hesitation. His arm encircled your waist completely, pinning you to him without excessive strength. Every subtle movement allowed you to appreciate him more and more, handling you like precious cargo rather than a sack of feed.

Fingertips thickened with callouses traced patterns along your back, a touch so feather soft your skin tingled in his wake. Trailing toward your butt beneath the surface, ghosting ever so slightly across the crest. You hadn’t been surprised by this at all. Sensing a small tinge of hesitation, you offered subtle encouragement with your own touch. Smoothing your palm along his muscular shoulder, trailing your fingers down his arm, pausing to gently grip his wrist.

He pulled his head back to look at you, a look of shame crossing his face and his mouth agape in the beginnings of what you assumed was an apology.

You however just smiled, moving his hand to rest against the curve of your butt. You watched as his eyes widened in surprise, sputtering out incomprehensible noise while his face began to show a hue of fuchsia.

Hushing him gently with a finger to his lips, you rubbed his arm soothingly. He was after all still a man, and why deny those thoughts lurking below his otherwise respectful nature? “Touch where you’d like.” You whispered to him.

An audible gulp emanated from his throat, his gaze sweeping over your face as if searching for any notion of disapproval or repulsion. When finding none, he uttered, “You sure?”

Giving a small nod, your other hand rested against his chest, running a single digit across the ridge of his collarbone. “I trust you.”

Reluctance still hinted in his face as he considered your words. His lips twitched as if to say something, though not a single sound came out. You waited quietly to see what his next move would be.

And then you felt it. The beginnings of a light caress as his palm rubbed your smooth skin. Nails scraped along the surface in a small, experimental squeeze. You giggled softly and smiled even wider, running your own hand down the midline of his chest. Admiring him from afar paled in comparison to right now, appreciating every hardened muscle you once only dreamed of holding.

The soft grip on your head disappeared entirely as the rough skin of his other hand moved slowly down your back and rested at the dip of your waist. His eyes flickered downward for a fraction of a second, taking in the plain sight of your naked breasts before looking back to you. Giving him a small nod, he moved from your waist, trailing his fingertips along the front of your torso. Carefully, he fondled one, his eyes never leaving your face. With slow progression his confidence began to grow, and you moaned encouragingly for him to continue. A delicate massage accompanied by his thumb teasing your nipple, he smiled.

“You feel so soft…” he murmured to you.

You hummed in response, thoroughly enjoying this moment. You weren’t sure how far this would go, though his touch was prompting you to explore further. From his chest down to his abdomen, enjoying every swell and plane decorating his frame, you dipped your hand beneath the surface. He tensed once you reached below his navel, although did not offer any notion of backing away. Your eyes met his, unblinking and waiting.

And so you continued further. The heat of his arousal was a stark contrast to the cool liquid surrounding him. Your fingers traced along the soft skin, observing every inch with growing interest. From the tip to the root, your hand turned to rest your palm on his hardened length. Wrapping your entire hand around it you found him to be blessed with girth.

One pump, and another, as smooth as the water would allow. Arthur’s hold on you loosened as a low moan slid from his lips. A simple sign for you to continue, thus you did. Watching his eyelids flutter and his head tilt back, a small smirk tweaked the corner of your mouth. He was soon malleable in your capable hands, his entire figure relaxing for you.

Leaning in to him, you cupped his neck and pressed your lips to his damp skin, leaving light kisses along the junction of his shoulder. His breathing heightened accompanied by a disjointed sound of surprise and pleasure. He spoke your name in a soft, low groan.

“Yes?” you answered him.

“I –” he paused, his hands returning to your body, running his fingers tantalizingly along your curves. “I wanna have you.”

Those words, the sincerity laced within them threw your heart into an erratic rhythm. Surely this was your imagination, your mind baked from being in the heat and sun for far too long. “Really? Here?” you asked quietly.

He nodded. “Like you said, we’re here now,” He replied with what you’d said to him earlier. “Might as well make the most of it, ‘less you don’t want to.”

The mere thought stoked the already smoldering embers within you, curling into a small fire. You bit your lip, weighing your considerations. Your body yearned for him; the pressure deep in your belly too incessant to ignore. Would it be worth it to wait until the two of you found a hotel to stay in, or an abandoned cabin to avoid any unwanted eyes?

However, the lakeside had been quiet for as long as you both had been out here. As unorthodox as it was, the thought of giving to your primal desires within the arms of nature’s embrace seemed invigorating. Staring deep into his awaiting eyes, you finally murmured, “Yes.”

As soon as the word passed your lips, he drew you in for another kiss. Deep and urgent, his tongue hadn’t hesitated to dance with yours. His touch grew fervent, sweeping across every curve and swell your body had to offer. One hand gravitated to your breasts, toying with each and drawing out a few muffled moans from you, while the other snaked further down. Like your own endeavor, he didn’t have trouble finding his target. Warm pads searched your folds briefly until resting upon that little bundle of nerves, creating small circles amongst your sensitive flesh. In turn, the grip you had on his cock hastened. Short and heavy breaths pierced the air as he pulled back, muttering out a swear.

Arthur’s movements soon became erratic, his fingers dancing feverishly against your nub. It didn’t take long for the fire to erupt into a blazing inferno, coiling stronger and tighter with each passing second. You panted out his name, gripping his shoulder for support as pleasure rolled through your body. Eagerly he moved to your entrance, testing it briefly before sinking two digits in. You weren’t sure if you were truly that wet or if the water aided his entry, but the thought quickly swept from your mind the moment he pumped his fingers in and out. You could have melted then and there if he wasn’t supporting you.

Closing your eyes, your mind soon became too addled to focus. The pressure within your core bubbled and threatened to burst. Your head tilted back and moaned your pleasure to the heavens, the fleeting arrival of your climax exploding through every inch of your body. Nails melded into flesh as he coaxed the final waves from you, your lips gasping out his name.

“Arthur…” you groaned, your heart racing. “My God, you know your way with a woman.”

“That surprise you?” he asked with a proud smirk.

Your prickling curiosity as to how far he went with Mary was not something you wanted to delve further into, yet Arthur was a young and handsome man. You’d witnessed him catch the eye of willful saloon women more than once. His handle on you lacked the clumsy and blunt nature of a virgin. “How about you show me further?” you prompted, your hand still resting against his length. Trailing your fingernails along the underside, you watched as his entire body shuddered.

“Mm, gladly…” he growled to you, moving his hands to grip your thighs. Without hesitation you wrapped your legs around his waist, your arms following suit to his neck. He seemingly had no issue supporting your weight, wading through the water until your back rested against a warm, gritty surface. He’d placed you on a rock, and soon released you to straighten up, peering at you with a gleam in his eye. “Turn ‘round.”

You listened without hesitation, immediately understanding what he wanted. Sinking partly back into the water, you turned away from him and bent over, swaying your hips at him. A growl of satisfaction rumbled from him, his rough hands taking place on your hips. The heat of his arousal pressed against the divide of your ass, rubbing it along your soft skin.

Soon he honed in for your lower lips, prodding your entrance once before pushing his way in. You gasped; the pressure surprising at first. His girth stood true,  expanding your inner walls further than you anticipated. Hips flush with your butt, he pulled back and drove into you, erasing any prior thoughts from your mind. The pressure was soon replaced with pleasure provided by his unrelenting thrusts.

Swearing out loud, your fingers scrambled on the rock to ground yourself. He was not offering any leeway, using you to his advantage. His grip was tight, deep enough to definitely leave bruises. He groaned and growled, whispering how well you were taking him.

Such talk wasn’t foreign to you, yet hearing it from Arthur created a new thrill. You arched your back for him, allowing nature to hear your song. The subtle change of angle brought a greater difference, allowing the tip of his cock to drag along that spot.

You gasped out his name, your eyes rolling as another coil of fire burned with fury within you. It wouldn’t be much longer until he ripped a second climax from you. Still you clung to that rock as if for dear life while he took every inch. His speed and precision were pushing you closer and closer to the edge with each passing second.

“Shit,” he grunted, voice wavering from his movement. His fingers made their presence known between your legs, rubbing you with vigor. “C’mon, girl,” he coaxed in that lovely baritone voice. “Give it to me.”

Oh Lord, how could you not give to him? That last command was all you needed to bend to his whim. Much more explosive than the first, your legs trembled and your back arched even more as it overtook every part of your body. Every being within the immediate area knew his name, you calling it out like a prayer.

With a noise of satisfaction he gripped your hips again, driving himself even faster, milking your orgasm of every last drop. A string of expletives fell from your mouth. “Arthur – fuck!” you huffed, attempting to halt the trembling overtaking your muscles. You stiffened against the rock, your skin catching somewhat uncomfortably though you didn’t care at that moment. Your eyes rolled from the sky to the trees to the shore, though focusing on nothing.

Until something caught your eye. Something along the sandy terrain that wasn’t there before. You blinked, ripping yourself back to clarity. Searching for it again, your gaze landed on it directly. A person standing just yards away, fixated on the two of you. It only took half a second to realize it was John Marston.

Your heart dropped into your stomach. Where the hell did he come from? “Arthur –” you grunted, mustering up as much breath as you could despite him pounding into you. “Arthur, stop!”

He halted immediately. “Wh-what’s wrong?” he breathlessly asked.

“Someone’s watching.” You hissed, your head twitching toward the shore.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see his face twist in confusion. He followed your line of sight and the bewilderment was quickly swept away with surprise. “Marston?” he pulled out of you immediately. “What the hell –”

You hid yourself better behind the rock. Turning your head, you looked just in time to see a conniving grin spread across John’s face. He turned and grabbed a pile of clothes – Arthur’s – off the ground. “Payback, Morgan!”

As the teen darted towards the trees, Arthur’s growl of anger sounded over you, followed by the splashing of water. You watched as Arthur stormed toward the shore, attempting to go as fast as he could. “Get back here, damnit!” he roared, finally reaching solid ground. Butt naked and his wet skin shining in the sun, he briefly stopped to yank his boots on before sprinting after John, who had disappeared amongst the shrubs already.

Arthur soon also disappeared into the woods, his shouts soon becoming muffled by the thick canopy above. John’s laughter grew further away. You waited, listening to their voices growing more distant. You pondered whether or not to try and help, but two naked people running through the woods certainly wouldn’t remedy the situation, and getting dressed would just waste time.

John hadn’t touched your clothes, only Arthur’s. Perhaps the young teenager was putting revenge over whatever Arthur said to him earlier. Typical sibling behavior as it were, you thought with a small smirk to yourself.

A few more minutes ticked by while you were wrapped in silence. You hadn’t heard either of them, and wondered how far John got, or if Arthur managed to catch up to him. Your unasked question was answered when the rustling of leaves and branches caught your attention. The sharp crunch of boots snapping twigs soon revealed Arthur, disgruntled and still very nude, though his body was peppered with forest debris.

You had to admit, as good as he looked, the sight of his defeated face and in nothing but his boots was quite amusing.

“What’re you smilin’ at?” He grumbled as he made his way to the water, kicking his boots off with unneeded force.

You started to giggle, standing straight to gesture to him as a whole. “Never thought I’d see Arthur Morgan running after a kid, stark naked!”

The scowl he gave you was heated, though didn’t faze your ever growing laughter. “Yeah well, don’t get used to it.” He huffed, breaking the surface to slide back in.

“Couldn’t catch him huh?” You chuckled.

He sighed heavily. “Lil’ shit got to the road. I had to stop chasin’ him or else give an unwanted show to some passin’ stagecoaches.”

That only prompted a harder laugh. “What, I’m sure someone aboard them would’ve appreciated it!”

With a scoff, Arthur sank further into the water, attempting to wash the debris from his body. “Now I’m stuck here without clothes. How am I gonna get back to camp without people seein’ me like this?”

The mere thought of it brought even more amusement to you. Arthur trying to sneak into camp, probably holding his hat over himself in attempts to cling to a shred of his dignity. No one in camp would let him live that down.

“Well, John didn’t steal my clothes,” you pointed out, gesturing toward the rock where your garments still lay out. “I can run back and grab yours, if you want.”

“Like I got a choice,” he mumbled dejectedly. “Jus’ hurry, will ya?”

“Sure,” you say, making your way to land and stepping out into the hot air once again. “Can’t let anyone see big bad Arthur Morgan stuck out here in his natural state!” you cackled.

[misterewrites]

The Heart of Civilization (Welcome to the Underground!)

Summary: Abigail's first experience of the Underground's capital is nothing like anything she's dealt with before but luckily she's got two guides. While the group decides how to handle their current arrangement, Oliver comes up with a surprising solution.

Hello everyone! It's done! I'm no longer behind schedule! E HERE WITH THE NEXT CHAPTER OF THE UNDERGROUND! WOO! Sorry it's been a chaotic, long few weeks. But I hope you are all doing good. So here we go the first major arc of the underground. Enjoy! I hope you are all safe, washing your hands, wearing your masks, get the vaccine if you can and keep each other safe! Comment, reblog, tell your friends. All that is super helpful for me and I love feedback. That's it for me, have a great week! E is out! Gonna nap!

Read this chapter or the whole thing if you’re curious with the link found below

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27814297/chapters/77710460

Cities were never silent. It was impossible to be given how much life was concentrated in a single location. Even smaller towns and villages in the middle of nowhere were always bursting with the sounds of the living: Cheery drunks, clanking armor of the city guard patrolling, the odd night owls who could never find rest under a starry sky. The life and soul of any place were the people.

So naturally Abigail was taken aback by the immense silence.

She knew there was sound given how sudden she was buffeted backwards by a wave of unseen force. Archie and Oliver felt it too given how their bodies jerked but unlike her, they had been expecting it.

There was a strange disconnect between Abigail’s senses and her brain as it tried to piece together what exactly was going on. She was actually starting to get a headache as her mind tried to make sense of conflicting information.

Her eyes watered and burned at the soft light that emitted throughout. It wasn’t as warm or bright as sunlight but it was close enough to make Abigail feel stuffy in her thick riding cloak. Oliver took off his cloak and began helping Archie out of his so Abigail followed suit, putting it away carefully in her backpack.

She asked how was there light down here but her words were muted and felt strange leaving her mouth like she was simply mouthing her question to herself.

It should’ve been noisy given that there were dozens of people on the stony street: children of various races running about playing different games among themselves, adults huddled together their faces serious with concern or relaxed at ease yet all were muted with a quiet that was inescapable.

Abigail knew this must’ve been the outskirts of the city given the conditions of the clothing and houses here. The only thing the homes shared was a ramshackle look to their construction and a strange mark written in their surface: Some were made of stone, others wood with a rare building made of metal. Short squat homes built deeper into the ground that were clearly dwarf design clashed horribly with the tall, gravity defying stacked one room story floors that were elvish hobbles.

Abigail pursed her lips, unsure what to make of this whole situation when Oliver’s voice appeared from nowhere, distant and echoing like he was speaking from the other end of a tunnel.

“You okay?”

Abigail jumped, flailing about wildly at the noise that cut through the quiet.

“Don’t do that!” Abigail shouted, annoyed, but nothing came out.

Oliver chuckled to himself soundlessly as he gestured to her with two pointed fingers.

“Haven’s Nest is the biggest city in all the Underground.” His voice crackled “You noticed it in the tunnels, no? How far sounds can travel in a confined space? Imagine trying to live in an entire city like that. You’d lose your hearing within a day. Well less given how much you like talking to people.”

Realization dawned on Abigail as she pointed to the strange items nestled in her ears.

Oliver nodded, his fingers still outstretched “Magical filters. They protect your ears from being overwhelmed by the noise or annoying conversations.”

Abigail thought for a moment before pointing two fingers towards Oliver.

“Is that why…?” she flinched at sudden reemergence of her voice “Wow that’s really off putting. Is that why they just hand them out at the entrance?”

“Mhm. Bad for tourism if you went deaf visiting the capital. Haven’s Nest: come to lose your money, leaving with 50% less hearing.”

Abigail stifled a laugh “So if I point like this?” she gestured with the two fingers “I can talk to people one on one. What if I want to talk to a bunch of people?”

“Make a fist. It’ll let you talk to and hear everything in the immediate area.”

Abigail looked at her hand before closing it into a fist. She winced as the city life popped back into existence without warning: The children shouting and cheering at their losses and victories, small talk about work and how members of the community were doing, unhappy grumbles about the price of food these days and the lack of respect the youth held for their elders.

The city was alive once more.

“Do we have to wear these the whole time?” Abigail asked, opting to keep her fist closed for simplicity's sake.

Archibald shook his head tiredly as he pointed to the strange symbol that were scrawled on every building’s surface.

“Sound bubbles.” Oliver explained “The magical symbols create a little pocket barrier around each building so you can only hear what’s happening inside. It be pretty infuriating if you need to sleep with the filters on. They don’t exactly stick in your ears perfectly.”

Archibald agreed.

“Oh okay. And the…”

“Lights?” Oliver cut in with a knowing smirk “Dwarfish design. A lot of important business happens in Haven’s Nest so a day night cycle is helpful. Harsher light for the day and softer glows for your shady night business.”

“Your shady night business” Abigail glared at Oliver before glancing upwards. Now that the bard pointed it out, she could see what he meant: Hundreds of smooth glass panels were packed tightly together on the ceiling of the cavern. Many of them gleamed with the warm light that bothered her when she first came in but she also noticed some were blackened, either powered down or broken from constant use.

“I take it this is the only place in the underground that has this level of dwarfish engineering.”

“Only non-dwarf city. Dwarves are a little hoardy with their tech.”

Abigail nodded “So this is the boonies, right?”

Oliver gave a mocking look of pride “Look at you knowing your terms. Yeah, this is the less fortune part of town. Still pretty nice all things considered. Up ahead is the Merchant Ward. Well ward is a misnomer but it’s the closest word I can come up with.”

“Looks like someone needs to up their vocab.” Abigail teased.

Archibald chuckled softly.

“And you.” Oliver gestured to the archer “What’s the plan now?”

Archibald eyes shone with understanding. He motioned for Abigail to help and handed her his pack as he began to search for something within. It took a minute but soon Archibald produced a crumpled up envelope. He handed it to Oliver while gratefully smiling at Abigail.

Abigail smiled back as Oliver tore the envelope and read the letter.

“Dear Greenfield and Bard, tis I! Borrick Copperstone. As you now no doubt have discovered, my boy Archie isn’t the most talkative person.”

Oliver spared Archibald a playful look “No kidding.”

Archibald waved Oliver’s comment off.

Oliver cleared his throat, his voice becoming booming and cheery as if mimicking the old dwarf “So I have written this letter with the following instructions. Archibald will be taking the 5 gold payment and I expect you to buy him a fine meal! As promised. In addition, Archibald has been given instructions to wait at the Right Hook inn in the Merchant Ward. Feel free to drop him off or you may part ways once in the city proper. Thank for your business and I wish you safe travels!”

Archibald reached to take the letter back but Oliver slapped his hand away with the paper.

“No.”

Archibald tilted his head quizzically.

Oliver narrowed his eyes “I don’t want you crying to your boss that you got injured on the job and we just dropped you first chance we got. We’re taking you to the Right Hook and we’re gonna keep an eye on you until we are sure you’re better. Right Abigail?”

Abigail was caught off guard by the sudden shift to her but she noticed the knowing glint in Oliver’s eyes “Right. Right! It’s only fair given you risked your life for us. I mean I still need to figure out what I’m going to do next and Oliver’s competition is in a few days so we don’t really have a reason to split up just yet.”

Archibald flushed a lovely bright pink.

“So it’s settled!” Oliver beamed “We’re taking to you Right Hook, get you rested, Abigail will buy you that meal she promised Borrick.”

“Hey!”

“You were negotiating” Oliver pointed out “You made the deal now you have to honor it.”

“I hate you.”

“And” Oliver went on without acknowledging Abigail further “We’ll get you to a cleric tomorrow, maybe do Abigail’s side quest and I still need to sign up for the competition.”

“My side quest?” Abigail’s face scrunched up thoughtfully “Oh! Cecilia’s wizard mentor person. That guy. Wait, how did you…?”

“So we take it easy today then we’ll go out tomorrow. Sorry solider boy you’re stuck with us a little longer.”

Archibald’s face was one of sheepish embarrassment but he smiled appreciatively all the same.

Abigail pursed her lips “Why don’t we do it today? It’s only afternoon if I’m reading the dwarfish sunshine right.”

“We almost died.” Oliver spoke plainly, shooting at glare at some people’s gaze who began to wander their way “I don’t know about you but I don’t wanna deal with anything else except a good meal and being alive.”

Abigail thought about for a moment. She could feel the tension in her body, her arms and legs were stiff. She was okay for now but the idea of doing more things today left her feeling drained.

“Yeah good point. We should take it easy for now. I’m not used to life or death situations.”

“I noticed.” Oliver turned to lead the group “Though it’s not like they get any easier.”

“What?”

“To The Right Hook!”

-----

At first traveling was relatively easy: The outskirts of town held only one path and it was simple to get her bearings situated. However the trouble started when they reached the Merchant Ward of the city.

Without warning the mismatched, battered homes became sleek, colorful uniformed buildings. Traditional human designs of varying heights and hues littered as far as the eye could see, each with the same symbol Oliver had pointed out. While the ceiling was narrow above the outskirts, here the cavern opened impossibly wide. Countless dwarfish panels of light were held high above in differentiating states of decay, blazing nearly as bright as the sun. The road became less stony and move cobbled as the paths branched out in every direction. People of various lifestyles hustled back and forth as the sounds of the city washed over her. Even the little Abigail could hear reminded her of the capitol on the surface, the sheer chaos that existed in larger, more populated places.

Oliver seemed to know where he was going. He would look at these towering signs with names written upon them. Street signs he called them. Abigail never heard of such a thing before but she was grateful for their existence.

As the trio traveled deeper into the Merchant Ward, Oliver began pointing out the various sections of the city.

“Over there.” Oliver pointed to a far off road that curved upwards through a tunnel “is the Clifftop Distract. Rich people turf. Anyone of value or wealth are squirreled away up there.”

“Of course.” Abigail murmured softly to herself. Somethings never changed.

“To the east past the Merchant Ward is East Haven. More homes less business but there are few inns, pubs, stores out there for all your shopping convenience.”

“Like a little village?” Abigail questioned, trying to see if she could equate it to something she knew.

Oliver paused for a moment “Actually yeah. Like a little village next door. Better off than the boonies but not as fancy as Clifftop. Middle of the road as it were. As you can tell, Merch Ward is a little chaotic. Not many people like the idea of living here.”

Abigail raised an eyebrow at a fist fight between a gnome and a dwarf “Couldn’t guess why. And past East Haven?”

“The east gate out of town. Haven’s Nest only has three gates: West in the outskirts, south for the Merchant Ward and East. The west and east are for public use but the south gate is only used for deliveries, soldiers, supplies, patrols etc etc etc.”

“How much further to the Right Hook?”

“Should be round here somewhere, right Archie?”

Archibald nodded in confirmation before pointing a nearby building.

The Right Hook was a wooden building painted a dark red and five stories tall. While the wood outside seemed aged and faded, the doors and window were new as if they had just been replaced. The sign that hung over the doorway was in a fancy font and showed an outstretched hand in the middle of a punch. The hand, ironically, was the left.

“I like it!” Abigail beamed cheerfully “It’s got character.”

“I believe that’s what we call a mistake.”

“It’s charming.”

“It’s wrong.”

“You’re wrong!”

Archibald softly laughed to himself as he followed the arguing pair inside.

The trio took off their filters, carefully placing them away in their pockets for later use. Abigail could feel her ears pop: Every laugh, word, noise was crisp. She could hear the sounds of all within the building but the chaotic symphony of the city remained outside.

“Now what?” she asked, rubbing her aching ears.

“Order some food. I’ll check us in.” Oliver offered “No doubt Borrick probably paid a room for Archie.”

Before Abigail could fathom what Oliver had just said, the bard disappeared deeper within the building.

“Always fun with Ollie huh?”

Archibald snickered then winced as he held his stomach.

“Sorry” Abigail smiled softly “Must be sore. Let’s find a table.”

Archibald and Abigail scanned the room and quickly spotted one nearby. The pair made their way over when Archibald pulled out the chair and gestured for Abigail to take a seat.

Abigail giggled while she sat down “Thank you good sir! I’m glad someone is a gentleman here.”

Archibald flushed as he pushed her chair in and took his own across from her.

-----

Food and drinks were ordered and brought out by the time Oliver returned, a quiet thankful look in his eyes as he noticed the third plate of meat and vegetables steaming in front of an empty seat.

“Thanks” He muttered quietly, sitting at the table.

“You okay?” Abigail watched him carefully “You look like you’re experiencing emotions.”

“I know I hate it.” Oliver gave a cocky smirk and returned to his usual self “Borrick paid for a full week for our good friend Archie so he’s cover.”

“But…” Abigail chimed in “I’m hearing a but.”

“You’re going to have to room with him.”

It wasn’t obvious who was more surprised by this information: Abigail or Archibald. Abigail’s eyes went wide and she could feel a blush spread across her cheeks while Archie simply choked on his drink and began coughing his lungs out.

“WHAT?!” Abigail and Archibald caught each other’s eyes “I...I-I don’t….I mean I don’t mind but…”

Archibald kept choking.

“Relax, it’s not as bad as you think.” Oliver began with a lazy wave of his hand “It’s...well big. On the 5th floor. It’s like a mini home I guess. It’s one room with two separate bedrooms inside. I think. It was a little confusing but I’m betting it’s for whoever is coming to pick him up. You know, to get a day’s of rest before they have to travel back.”

Abigail opened her mouth to protest but Oliver kept going “They only had one other room: A little broom closet on the second floor so be grateful I didn’t shove you in there and decide to bunk with my best friend Archie.”

Archie shot a glare as he finally cleared his throat.

Oliver grinned playfully “It’s only for a day or two until other rooms open up and we can all get our own separate, real rooms.”

“Well.” Abigail twiddled her thumbs “If it’s only for a few days…”

Archibald said nothing, opting to drink his water and hoping no one noticed the red in his cheeks.

“Well then it’s settled!” Oliver said with a hint of finality as he began digging into his meal.

-----

Despite the less than ideal sleeping arrangements, the trio managed to relax: Food, drinks, chatting idly about little things.

Night came quickly and true to Oliver’s warning, Abigail could feel exhaustion ebb into her bones.

The trio made their way to rest and as they dropped off Oliver to his little tiny room, they couldn’t help but ask.

“You sure?” Abigail eyed the broom closet distastefully “You could always sleep in our room. With Archibald.”

Archibald pointed to the floor jokingly.

Oliver gave tired chuckle “I’m good. I’ve slept worse places. Besides I need a break from all….this”

He motioned to the both of them. Abigail was unsure what he meant by that. Archibald simply shot daggers at him.

“Go” he shooed them away “Go and let me get some rest before I gotta deal with both of you in the morning.”

“Okay…..night Oliver.”

Archibald waved goodbye and the pair vanished up the stairs.

Oliver slipped into his room, a small place with a bed on one side and some walking space on the other. A window as wide as the room itself hung on the other end.

A tiny broom closet indeed.

Oliver locked the door behind him and placed his bag onto the floor. He took a moment to hide his lute and the more valuable possession he had, both monetary and sentimental. He cracked his fingers and neck before opening the letter the innkeeper slipped him. Oliver mentally mapped out the location scrawled on the paper then ripped it to shreds.

Oliver brushed clean his outfit from the day’s grime and made his way over to the window. The dwarfish panels shifted to night mode: the warm bright light of the day replaced with a cool, silvery glow that darkened the underground. He pulled out the magic filters from his pocket and put them on. He lifted the window and was grateful the barrier kept the sound outside from coming in.

“Thank god it’s the second floor” he murmured to himself as he began to climb out.

-----

4 hooded figures were huddled in the darkness of an alley, deeply engrossed in their conversation.

The tallest, a muscular woman, fidgeted unhappily “We been waiting for 30 minutes. I don’t think the guy is gonna show.”

Another cloaked figure, a woman a head and half shorter than her companion gently took her hand in her own “Sweetie you need patience.”

The muscular woman flushed in embarrassment “I know Flora but you know how I get antsy when I gotta wait. I hate waiting!”

“I know Terri but we must wait. He will be here. Correct Tyrell?”

Tyrell, a younger gentleman of 20 scratched his chin thoughtfully “That’s what the message said. Came in this morning on the West Gate board. Said he was traveling with some people but he’d meet up with us within the hour of the meeting time.”

“Ugh” Terri groaned “We should get a move on. The party isn’t going to last all night and we got work to do. We need to find the...”

“Wait.” The last figure whispered quietly “I hear something.”

The group held their breath, fists clasped tightly so they can hear what was approaching.

It was faint but Terri could hear the soft patter of footsteps. They moved with such a gentle foot that only Terri’s years of survival training allowed her to catch it.

Terri stood up to her full height, her thick muscular arms tensed for a fight as a shadow inched closer to the group.

“Show yourself!” Terri shouted, falling into a fighting position.

Oliver stepped out of the darkness, his hands lazily in his pockets.

Flora eyed him carefully “Very weird to be wandering back alleys, no sir?”

Oliver cleared this throat “My name is Oliver, First Chair Soprano in The Choir.”

The group shared a surprised look with one another. Their missing fifth member had finally arrived.

“Now.” Oliver spoke with a mischievous smirk “Who we robbing for the greater good?”

[deadmansgun]

A Heartfelt Talk Under The Snow ||Drabble for a friend||

@bcrnitdown

I’m not feeling as festive this year, but I figured Xmas would create a very cute environment for this.

Anyway, Nightmares are absolutely terrible. Especially if they are more terrifying each time, if it becomes scary enough, it can even be slightly scarring. I apologize in advance for possibly(Likely) butchering Ashe in this but I’ll do my best to be as exact as I can, tho there’s no way it would ever be as amazing as your take on her is.

I hope this helps brighten up your day at least a little bit Anarchy <3

Please enjoy below the cut since it will likely be long.

After a busy week full of successful heists and robberies, the Deadlock gang was pretty much set for the holiday. Everyone at camp was in a festive mood and the decorations John had helped Ashe put up were really creating a peaceful holiday environment for everyone. The gang seemed to be having a great time, a bunch of the guys were drinking with a game of poker, some playing five finger filet and dominos, even horseshoe. It had been a very long time since he had been in a gang of Outlaws, but it was thanks to things like this, that would remind him that even a group of murderers, robberies, liars, cheats and thieves, could still be considered a family, and John had to admit, it made him remember the good old days of his old gang, the memories of his time there with everyone would forever remain in his heart, and he’d take them wherever his future would go.

Although this would seem like a mistake to his old friends, they had their own lives to live now, so whatever he did, was up to him. As for Uncle, well he would probably be fine, he had the whole ranch now, and honestly, he didn’t care too much for going back to Beechers Hope, precisely why he had decided to join them. Despite being back in the old life again, something very good came out of it. John had met Ashe. And despite the two of them trying to keep it professional, over time, it had developed into something much more personal and special. They had become very close and it was a connection that John cherished.

While everyone else got completely hammered in the background, while John and Ashe were drinking, they weren’t drunk yet, maybe a little buzzed but that was it, for right now anyway. 

As everyone carried on with their drunken holiday fun in the background, John and Ashe were sitting near a cliff. John had directed them to Shady Belle as their new spot for camp, and it had this cliff that gave off this amazing view of the water below and the beautiful environment after it.

[{ ☠ }] - “Ya know. it’s been a real long time since I celebrated the holiday season like this..” 

John speaks, reflecting on the only other time he had celebrated which was back with the Van Der Linde Gang, he was still with Abigail back then, but ever since he had joined Deadlock, the name Abigail Roberts was nothing more than a ghost to him now. Did he still regret failing to prove himself to Abigail? Well, sometimes, but not so much anymore. Though the odd time here and there, he did find himself wondering how they were doing, and if Jack actually followed his dream of being a Lawyer.

“I reckon it’s been’a few years then ain’t it?” She asked.

A nod in response.

[{ ☠ }] - “Yeah, last time I celebrated like this, I uh... I had me a family.”

Red eyes widened a little, she was pretty shocked at finding out he used to have a family. She felt the urge to make a playful joke about it, but seeing how different he was acting, Ashe knew this was a likely a deep wound for him, so she decided against it.

“A family? Like with a woman an’ child?” She softly asked, to which John gave a slow nod.

Ashe looked over at him, curious eyes as she observed him carefully. He seemed to be having a good time at first, but now, Ashe noticed a look of slight sadness in his eyes. Ashe was never the one to openly show affection, especially in situations like this, but when the moment called for it, Ashe could be gentle and sweet, of course, only outside of the eyes of the others in Deadlock, she had a persona to keep after all, but with John, she had no problem shifting to support him if needed, they had a special connection after all. so instead, she sat there and listened.

[{ ☠ }] - “Yeah.. I met after my group saved her, she joined us...sometime later, had me a son..Jack was his name. The boy never did like me much. Don’t blame him though,  I wasn’t the best father back then.”

[{ ☠ }] - “But t’make a long story short, after it all went to hell, I tried changin’ my life around. Makin’ an honest livin’ an such. One day, I had to pick up my guns again to protect the place we was stayin’ at. my old lady didn’t really like me bein’ some gunslinger and after me and my son got shot at by some revenge seeking bastards, she went and left me. Tried my best t’show her I could be a different man, even went outta my way t’make a bank loan so I could buy us a ranch. Two friends and I built it. Sent her a letter, but... she didn’t come back.”

Ashe listened in silence as he told his story, this had been the first time that John had gave this much details about his past, so Ashe was a little caught off guard by it all, but she felt for him. The poor man really had done his best, and the fact she still didn’t return to him after all that? It was sad. Her expression softens.

“I didn’t know ya had yerself a family before... wow, I’m real sorry John.” 

A slow nod of acknowledgment.

[{ ☠ }] - “I don’t blame her, if I was her, I’d leave me too..” The sadness in his tone was more evident at the end of his sentence.

Ashe would gentle rest a hand on his leg in comfort. A brief silence would follow, but a comfortable one even despite the grim topic. After the two stared out at the view watching the snow gently fall gracefully to the ground. It was snowy but it wasn’t cold out and was actually pretty nice.

With a gentle bite of her bottom lip, Ashe moved closer to John and gently rested her head on his shoulder. It was sudden, but John didn’t hesitate to tilt his head her direction so they were touching heads. After a few minutes, she would lift her head off his slowly but looked up at him slowly inching closer until they were touching foreheads.

“Personally John, I think you’re a much better Outlaw than a Father..” She would reach her hand up to gently cup his cheek caressing it gently.

“But ya know what? There ain’t nothin’ wrong with that, and I think yer a great man, perfectly bad, but ina’ good kinda’ way..Ah’m real glad ya joined Deadlock, My family, is your family..”

Ashe’s words made John’s heart flutter a bit, for others, that would probably be considered some kind of insult. But what she had just said, had been the nicest thing anyone had ever said to him in a very long time, he was used to Uncle belittling him for everyone and being the target of Uncle’s jokes. He had no regrets about joining Deadlock.

[{ ☠ }] - “Ashe...y-” John’s sentence was suddenly cut off by Ashe gently putting a finger on his lips shushing him.

“..John.. look up.” 

John takes his head off hers for a moment to notice that there was a mistletoe above them. The exact moment John looked back down at her, she cupped his cheek, leaned in and kissed him on the lips. John was quick to wrap his hands around her waist while she put her arms around his neck. The kissed they shared had been a long passionate one, and the moment they pulled away, they went in for another and proceeded to escalate into a make out session, but a heartfelt one full of passion until they finally took a breather. The warmth of their personal campfire next to their spot on the cliff was keeping them warm, so laying on his sleeping bag, Ashe would lay her head over his chest.

[{ ☠ }] - “Ya think the others are wondering where we are?” John asks.

“Ahhh those guys can wait a little. Ah’m comfy.” She shifts her head to look up at him.

“Don’t think Ah’m headin’ back in anytime soon anyway..” She says giving him a little smile.

A soft chuckle followed by a warm smile of his own.

[{ ☠ }] - “Good, I ain’t moving either.” The two would lay there enjoying each others company for a while before John finally broke the silence.

[{ ☠ }] - “Ashe... you’ve given this fool right here, a home... thank you..”

A light blush on her cheek, but she’s quick to lay her head back down on his chest and hide it.

No John.. thank you.

[eleanor-writes-stuff]

and my heart goes boom, boom, boom [ficlet]

When Ben first decided to start a rival fireworks shop near his father’s place at the young age of eighteen, he didn’t really have much of a plan aside from “piss Dad off”.

But he can’t exactly say that to the beautiful girl behind the counter now, can he?

Earlier this week my sleep-deprived mind and I were scrolling down my dashboard when I came across this post about rival fireworks shops. @orkindofamazing had reblogged it with a couple of Reylo tags, and next thing I knew I had a ficlet on my hands. 

So here’s the fireworks shop AU no one ever asked for.

First posted here. Also available on AO3. And hey, maybe check out my Twitter and Ko-fi?

Ben Solo might well be the only kid in the world who can say he grew up splitting his free time between a Senator’s office and a smuggler’s illegal fireworks shop.

His father has been running Dishonest Don’s for as long as he can remember. Hell, his very first memory is of the shop, of being shut away in the back office and slowly sinking into the lumpy couch while his parents made annoyed faces and wild gestures at each other just beyond the window. It was all so funny and entertaining to young Ben until his mother stormed into the office, scooped him up, and shouted something about child-appropriate environments at his father while Ben waved goodbye over his mother’s shoulder.

He was back in the shop less than a week later, when his mother couldn’t find anyone else to watch him during her filibuster. Just this once, she told him and his father. This is the last time, she promised him two months later.

It wasn’t.

The last time was when he was thirteen and rumors were spreading about Senator Organa’s shady husband and Ben watched his father pick the stupid shop over his family.

The next time his mother tried to drop him off at Dishonest Don’s, Ben tried to convince her that he was old enough to stay home by himself. His mother agreed almost immediately, in what was probably the shortest argument in her entire life.

So from then on Ben stayed home and watched his father head off to work, and he sulked, and he seethed, and he plotted.

In lieu of a big bash with non-existent friends for his eighteenth birthday, Ben gets a typical Organa-Solo family dinner.

His father is actually home in time for dinner, for once, but he and Chewie talk about work all evening anyway.

Uncle Luke tries to ask him about school, then girls, then his future, until his mother takes mercy on him and drags her brother away under the guise of needing to consult him on a very important, very confidential matter.

There are a few others scattered here and there, familiar faces always in the background of nearly every birthday he’s ever had, but there’s only one Ben is interested in talking to.

“Happy birthday, kid!” Lando grins as he approaches, and Ben knows he’s made the right choice when his uncle toasts him with a beer and immediately proceeds to hand said beer to him. “Probably time to stop calling you that, huh? Eighteen. Eighteen,” he whistles. “Feels like just yesterday you were hiding in my cape to block out the fireworks. And now look at you. There’s no cape in the world big enough for you to hide in, young man!”

Ben drops his eyes to the ground, scuffs his feet for a bit, holds back a satisfied grin at Lando calling attention to his newly filled-out frame.

His uncle knows him well enough to change the subject.

“So, any plans, Benny? Eighteen’s a pretty big deal.”

He looks up, holds eye contact as he knocks back his beer. Is alcohol supposed to be involved when you pitch a business idea to your mysteriously rich uncle?

Either way, Ben figures it can’t hurt.

“Actually, on the subject of fireworks…”

At the ribbon cutting for Honest John’s, Han laughs until he’s doubled over on the sidewalk, tears streaming down his face.

It’s not exactly the reaction Ben was looking for, but he almost doesn’t mind when his father comes up to him later that day and squeezes his shoulder.

“This is… this is really something you’ve put together here, son. Much better than anything I could’ve come up with.”

Much more legal, too, but Ben keeps that thought to himself for once. Because his father is looking up at him, and he’s got a hand on Ben’s back, and for once Han smiles, actually smiles, when he says, “I’m proud of you, Ben.”

So maybe it’s not the confrontation Ben’s been itching for since he was thirteen and he saw tears in his mother’s eyes for the very first time as she tried to make his dad understand the consequences of his actions.

And yeah, it’s probably not going to turn into a fistfight that’ll finally give him the chance to wipe that cocky smirk of his father’s face.

But there’s a telltale shine in his mother’s eyes as she runs her hands over the counter he built, and there’s no sign of a smirk on his father’s face as he admires the rest of the shop, and when his parents meet in the middle they take each other’s hand and turn to him with a look of pride and joy that nearly chokes him up.

That’s good enough, Ben decides, and throws himself into running the best damn business he possibly can.

“Hey, Mitaka. Been a while,” Ben comments as he walks out from behind the counter to assist one of his oldest regulars.

He doesn’t mean anything by it, just a simple observation, but then Mitaka avoids his eye and looks down at the ground and-

“Sorry about that. It’s just, everyone said it’s different now with the new regulations, and of course you’d have to follow them because you’re above the board and all that, which is great, really, it’s great, but no one wants boring fireworks at a 4th of July party, you know? Not- not that I’m saying your stuff is boring-”

Ben frowns as he steps forward, resting a hand on the red-faced man’s shoulder. “Dude. Breathe.”

Mitaka does as instructed, even as he continues to twist his fingers together nervously. “So yeah, sorry it’s been a while. But I’m back now, and I’ll never go to Dishonest Don’s again, I promise-”

“Wait, wait,” Ben interrupts. “Dishonest Don’s? You’ve been going there?”

Mitaka looks like a kicked puppy as he nods.

“Why? You’ve been coming here for years! And you know they’re illegal-”

“But they’ve still got the meteor shower ones, and I know you’re not allowed to sell those anymore.”

This is news to Ben, who just received a box of said fireworks two hours ago. “Says who?” he demands incredulously.

“Um, well, everyone really, but mainly-” Mitaka pulls his phone out and opens up a familiar-looking website before handing it over to Ben.

The design is unmistakable, and the URL at the top can’t be a coincidence.

His father’s latest post is titled The Silent Night Act and what that means for you, which sounds nothing at all like the succinct announcements Ben’s gotten used to. New stuff, the posts usually read, followed by a slew of pictures and prices and nothing else. This… this article about new sound and light pollution regulations warning against hefty fines for those caught red-handed and watered-down versions from licensed sellers trying to toe the line sounds nothing at all like his usual style.

It’s also not like his father to stoop this low and try his hand at sabotage, but here they are anyway.

Ben throws the phone back at Mitaka and stalks towards the front door.

“Hux, watch the shop! I’ve got a fucking bone to pick with Han fucking Solo!”

Dishonest Don’s is both fifteen minutes and worlds away from Honest John’s. While Ben’s shop operates in a perfectly respectable area, it’s just a short walk away from shady repair shops, hole-in-the-wall spots, and, of course, the city’s worst-kept secret.

For fuck’s sake, his father even has the name of the shop spelled out in neon lights. The sign stopped working properly a long time ago, way before Ben hit puberty, but it’s still there, flickering every once in a while like some kind of prolonged death rattle-

Ben stops short right outside the door. For the first time in nearly fifteen years, the lights are working. Dishonest Don’s is spelled out in full, rather than the usual hoe on that’s greeted customers for as long as he can remember.

Inside is even more baffling. There are lights, actual lights bright enough for him to see where he’s going. There’s a bell over the door that announces his arrival. And most unexpected of all, there’s someone other than his father and Chewie standing behind the counter.

“Hi there, looking for something?”

She’s young (probably younger than him) and tall (for a girl) and beautiful (in every sense of the word) and Ben almost, almost blurts out you because when she smiles, it’s brighter than a thousand fireworks lighting up the night sky.

He shakes the thought away, stalks further into the shop and towards her to show her the post. “Where’s Han? We need to talk about this.”

The girl tilts her head. “What about it?”

“It’s- it’s-” Ben splutters, dropping his phone on the counter. “It’s slander! Fake news! Total and complete bullshit meant to sabotage me-”

“Wow, I did not expect this big of a reaction.”

Ben stops, considers her in silence for a beat. “Wait, what? What do you mean- you knew about this?”

“Of course I did,” the girl shrugs as she scrolls past the article on his phone. “I wrote it, after all.”

Everything comes to a screeching halt. The world stops making sense. Up is down and down is left and why in the hell would this random girl use his father’s website to sabotage his business?

“Why the fuck did you do that?” Ben demands, snatching his phone out of her hands. Small hands, rough hands, hands that look like they would fit perfectly into his own- “You lied about me!”

The girl shrugs. “Thought I’d make things interesting.”

“You stole my customers!”

“Mm-hmm,” she hums, shifting her focus to the register. “Gotta meet those sale targets somehow.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

At this, she finally looks up. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” she retorts without missing a beat, without losing control. “What kind of asshole sets up shop right across the street just to piss off his father?”

Truth be told, sometimes Ben does look back at his teenage self and feel a slight bit of shame over his actions. But this stranger doesn’t need - or deserve - to know that.

“You wouldn’t get it. It’s a long story,” he says dismissively, crossing his arms over his chest as he looks around the shop and takes in the small changes she must be responsible for. Things are… things are actually organized, for once. And he can stand here without worrying that one of the highly flammable, highly explosive piles his father likes to keep things in is about to roast him to a crisp. It’s… nice, and Ben’s happy just looking around until-

“And I’ve got a long lunch break,” mystery girl replies easily, pinning him down with a challenge in her eyes. “So start talking, Honest John’s.”

There’s a chair on the other end of the counter, a little waiting seat of sorts. Ben remains silent until he’s settled down. “It’s, um… it’s Ben, by the way. Not John. Or Honest John.”

She smiles at him again; just one more and his heart will probably fail him. “Yeah, that sounds better. Fits you.”

And then she holds her hand out and offers him the beginning of everything.

“I’m Rey, in case you were wondering. Rey like sunshine, but with an E.”

Of course the only thing brighter than all the fireworks in the world is the sun herself.

So, um... yeah, that’s that. This is what happens when you attempt to write while severely sleep-deprived, kids.

As always, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed at least some part of this. Please don’t hesitate to like/reblog/comment!

[sparklywitchmoment]

Hell and Silence || Chapter Six

MASTERLIST

Warnings: Swearing, Smut, Drinking

Word Count: 5,002

Authors Note: Chapter Six! Horray! I know this chapter is considerable shorting than the proceeding ones, but it’s action packed. Hope you guys have been enjoying this so far... and what do you think of Derek and Vanessa? What’s going on with them? Well....

Chapter One     Chapter Two     Chapter Three     Chapter Four     Chapter Five

CHAPTER SIX

DEREK

I can’t believe I fucking brought up Isaac when she was about to go down on me. How stupid am I?

I feel like such a stereotypical horny guy thinking this- it’s selfish, really- but I can’t help thinking about Isaac’s words, telling me how amazing she is with that sarcastic mouth of hers. I was about to know just how good she really is, but I just had to bring up the boyfriend. Is it even about that, though? Cause I would have been perfectly fine just holding her in my arms for just a few minutes more. 

No, stop- I thought, mentally hitting myself upside the head- you’re getting too attached, too sentimental.

The entire drive home, my mind felt blank, totally driving on autopilot. It took me a minute to realize I had pulled into the loft buildings parking lot and I was just sitting in a parked car. 

Lucky for me, Peter wasn’t downstairs when I finally made it home. I really didn’t want to have to deal with his fucking snark and comments tonight, or any night, really. I took my jacket off, tossing it over my armchair before making my way to my bedroom at the other end of the loft. Shutting the door behind me, I quickly stripped down into my boxers, tossing myself onto my soft blanket covered bed. I can’t help myself from picturing a certain brown haired amber eyed girl laying in the empty spot next to me, white sheets strategically placed, showing just enough of her curvy waist and glowing skin to make me go insane. 

Seeing her tonight, so vulnerable under my heated touch just made me want her so much more. No matter how much I tried to push the thought of her out of my mind, she kept finding a way to weave herself back into it. She’s like a drug, and I don’t know if I’ll ever quite get my fix.

VANESSA

It’s been two weeks since Lacy Moore’s body dropped, and whatever this new monster is- Stiles in insisting it’s a Wraith- has taken more victims. Four innocent people, all people with families. The first after Lacey Moore was the girl, a Beacon Hills cheerleader named Elizabeth Fontana, The most recent ones is a man named Dennis Harmon, a college student home to see his parents. Next was a state attorney, Alina Fray, who had two young kids. Finally was an old man, Gill Benson, army veteran. The last three bodies were found outside the same bar, so we figured that as a lead- or at least somewhere to start. Whenever something like this happened and people were killed, Stiles always gave me the victim files. Sure, it’s morbid, but I liked to know the person that was killed- It gave me an extra push of motivation to find what killed them and take it down. Seeing their lives, their families- I’d want someone to do the same for me if I was found with a hollow head.

The pack crowded around the exam table at Deaton’s clinic:

Allison had her crossbow slung over her shoulder standing next to me on one side of the table, Stiles and Scott on the other one. Derek was leaning against the wall with Isaac and Erica, being dark and brooding as usual. It seemed like Erica and Boyd were now taking shifts in who would come to the pack meetings because they never seemed to be here at the same time. I could feel Derek and Isaacs eyes on me, burning holes through my skin. I tried to brush it off, but it was driving my every nerve in my body crazy.

“Okay, so we know that it’s the same bar that this things been stalking-” Scott began to say, Stiles interrupting him to correct “thing” to “Wraith.” Scott just rolled his eyes, reluctantly repeating his statement with Stiles correction. “So tonight, we’re hopefully going to catch this thing, or at least a glimpse of it. We’re going to spread out,” Scott directed his eyes up at me. “Vanessa, you agreed to scout the bar tonight-”

“No way, it’s too dangerous.” Isaac butted in, rushing the table. 

“Wait- you’re keeping me with you two, and sending the human in to fight a monster? You really must be a bunch of idiots.” Erica chimed in, rolling her eyes. I balled my fist, digging my nails into my palm.

“Shut up, Erica.” Allison hissed, so Erica kept quiet, but Isaac continued complaining.

“She’s not going alone.”

I know why Scott chose me to go into the bar- it’s not because I’m the strongest of the pack, but because I’m the quickest. Quick on my feet, quick reflexes, quick mind. That will do us better in that bar than Erica or Isaac, but I didn’t want to say anything, risking Erica’s verbal wrath. 

“Isaac, I can handle myself.” I tried to say, but Isaac wasn’t having it.

“I know you can, but you’re still not going alone.”

Stiles rolled his eyes, groaning. “Now is not the time to play protective boyfriend, Lahey. You can’t go with her, you’ll draw too much attention- you look like a six foot two five year old. You don’t fit in a bar, so if anyone else wants to step up,”

“I’ll go.”

Everyone’s head turns towards Derek, who had just spoken for the first time all day- all week, really. He hadn’t spoken to me- to anyone, apparently- since our night at my house when he brought my necklace back. Allison shifted, being the only one I’ve told about what’s been going on with Derek and I. Needless to say, she has not been too excited about it.

“That’s probably not a-” Ally started to say, but was oh-so-rudely interrupted.

“Great idea!” Stiles clapped his hands together, Scott eyeing him, clearly confused. Mostly everyone in the pack can’t stand Derek, so my brothers enthusiasm was obviously questioned. “Biggest, baddest werewolf protecting my baby sister. I’ve never been more confident in her safety.” He said with extensive sarcasm, very Stiles-like. I don’t know what we should have expected coming out of that spazzes mouth.

Derek just raised an eyebrow. “So am I going, or…”

“Yes, you’re going.” Stiles looked back at everyone surrounding the table. Isaac’s face was twisted in some sort of way that couldn’t give me a clear read on his emotions, but it was something between confused and betrayed. Our eyes locked for a fraction of a second, before he diverted them down to the floor. “Alright, you all know the plan. Allison, you’re sniping across the street. Vanessa, Derek, keep us updated from the inside. Scott, Erica you’re with me, we’re going to meet Lydia and scout the perimeter. Isaac-” Stiles froze. “You, uh… Why are you here?”

“Well, I was hoping I could help protect my girlfriend, but that’s been thrown out the window.”

“Stop complaining, Scarfy. Just go snipe with Allison.”

Allison groaned, swinging her crossbow back. I bit back a laugh.

“Alright, everyone- break!”

And with that, everyone dispersed out of the clinic. Scott, Erica and Stiles got into the Jeep, the rest of us piling into Allison’s car. I slid into the passenger side seat, leaving Isaac and Derek to squeeze into the tight backseat. The two boys shifted uncomfortably in the small space, which gave me a special kind of joy.

Allison followed Scott and Stiles who pulled out of the parking lot and drove down the dark, empty road. On a Saturday night, the bar should be packed. Hopefully we’ll at least get a look at this...creature, whatever it is. The bar was more towards downtown Beacon Hills, only a few blocks away from where I was told Derek’s loft is. We lost Scott and Stiles a few blocks back at the spot where they were meeting Lydia, so it was just the four of us now. Allison, who knew about my crazy shit with Derek- who’s kiss was the best kiss I’ve gotten in a while, and Isaac who who was completely ignorant to what was happening in the world around him.

We parked the car across the street from the bar that was, as predicted, packed. Luckily, it was a pretty mellow bar which didn’t require a bouncer. Derek and I walked right in, no problem. Then again, Derek was actually twenty three and with makeup, I manage to make myself look at least twenty one.

The bar was disgusting. The wooden floorboards were cracked and coming up, wallpaper peeling from the corners. It was crowded with people at every table drinking booze, throwing darts, talking loudly. I was uneasy from the second we stepped foot into this cesspool. It was packed full of greasy middle aged men and women who were drunk off their asses- the pinnacle scene of a stereotypical shady bar. We walked to the counter where Derek shot two men a glare that could kill, causing them to scatter from their stools. I grinned, laughing to myself as he and I sat down. He must have seen me laughing, because soon he was questioning it.

“What?” His eyes were a bold green, even under the dim lights of this shady bar. “What’s so funny?”

His scowl just made my laughter grow. “Nothing, Derek.- just order a round.”

“A round? You’re only 18. I’ll buy a drink for myself, kid.” He huffed, waving the bartender over. Kid? Did he really just call me that?

“Oh, hell no,” I grabbed his wrist, making sure to flash my yellow eyes at him.  “You’re going to buy two shots each, and not the weak shit, either. Don’t be such a baby,”  Derek gave me a look of disbelief before following my orders and buying the four shots. I smiled, knowing I had one a battle, however small, against the big bad Sourwolf. The bartender came back seconds later with four shot glasses and a bottle of tequila. I watched as the glasses filled with the golden liquid, almost overflowing. As soon as the bartender finished filling my glasses, I downed the shots, throat burning a little as the drink went down, then slamming the glass against the bar. He hadn’t even finished filling Derek’s shots yet, and I was ready for two more.

“Take it easy there, tiger.” Derek chuckled, downing one of his shots. “We’re supposed to be on lookout, so you can’t get too tipsy.”

“Oh, bite me, Hale. I can handle a little tequila.”

Derek rolled his eyes, drinking the last of the his shots. “Can you? You may be a wolf, but you’re still a lightweight. If you were any more human you probably wouldn’t be able to walk straight after the two shots you just had.”

“ ‘Scuse me?” I cocked my head, spinning my stool towards him. Course I already felt a little woozy, but I would never admit it after he so condescendingly pointed it out. “I can handle alcohol better than you think.”

“You mean better than me?”

“It’s possible.” I laughed, my veins already rushing with tequila. It could be the alcohol obscuring my vision, but his eyes seemed even more green and sparkly than they normally did.

“Tiny, little Vanessa Stilinski thinks she can outdrink me? We’ll just have to see, won’t we?” He grinned, waving the bartender over again. 

“Is that a challenge?” I questioned, waving my finger in his direction.

“Maybe it is.” He said, his voice dropping an octave lower. I bit my lip, playing coy and averting my eyes to the shelves of alcohol behind the bar. “You might wanna stay here- The girl here thinks she can outdrink me.” Derek said to the bartender, causing him to line up and fill more glasses of tequila.

“I may look like a lightweight, but I’ve got this in the bag.” I huffed, trying to defend myself. The two men laughed, giving each other condescending glances. Their underestimation only added fuel to my fire. “So, Hale,” I ran my fingertip around the rim of the shot glass. “Why don’t we make this challenge a little more… interesting?”

“How do you suppose we do that?” There it is again, that flirtatious undertone. He’s both slightly intoxicated and a little horny, judging by the way he keeps shifting his legs. This is going to be fun.

“I say we wager on it. If I win…” I discreetly moved myself closer to him, my hand lightly grazing his upper thigh. I knew this was a game I should not be playing- shamelessly flirting with an Alpha, alcohol running through me. Drinking probably wasn’t the best decision I’ve ever made, considering I’m supposed to be on watch, and my boyfriend is across the street. I shouldn’t be trying to seduce Derek Hale, but the tequila was making my good decisions falter into bad ones. “If I win, you have to do something for me. Whatever I want, but only one thing. I might make you scrub my bathroom floor with a toothbrush…” I bit my lip, turned towards the bar. “Might make you do some… other things.” The words coming out of my mouth didn’t even sound like mine. It was like I was a whole nother person, and I was completely aware. It felt like I wasn’t in control. 

Derek pushed himself slightly off his stool, bringing his lips to the base of my ear. “And if I win… I get the same. Except there's a very low chance of me making you scrub my bathroom floors.” He laughed, sitting back in his stool, his words send chills down my body, visible goosebumps forming.

The bartender had finished filling our two original shot glasses and brought over at least 6 more, each filled to the top. We split the shots evenly, laying them out in a straight line. I laughed, clapping my hands together and bracing myself for the burning pain my poor throat was going to have to endure. “Get ready to lose miserably, Hale.”

“Keep dreaming, Stilinski.” Derek laughed, wrapping his fingers around his first glass. “Ready?”

“I’m ready.”

“Go!”

Both of our hands shot out, grabbing the glasses, bringing them to our lips and slamming them down not even a second later. The liquid burned going down my throat, but it didn’t stop me.- the burning served as motivation. I brought the second glass up, swallowing it and moving to the next one all too quickly. Derek’s big hands were fumbling with the tiny glasses, hardly able to pick one up without knocking another over. Before he could get to his third shot, I was on number six, and finished with my line. My arms shot up and I wove them around in victory. Derek craned his head to look at me, astonished.

“How did you-”

“Lydia’s hard to beat, but after four years with her, I can dominate anyone.” I choked out, the burning sensation strong in my throat.

“Alright, alright. Don’t let it go to your head.” He said, laughing. My vision was starting to become a bit blurry, but it cleared up fairly quickly. That’s the good thing about fast werewolf healing, I guess.

“Now you owe me a favor.” I leaned over, sliding my hand up his thigh. He jerked a little bit, I’m guessing surprised at my sudden intimacy. “When do I get to collect it?”

“Depends on what you want.” He said, his voice low and raspy. I grinned, taking his hand in mine.

“You’ll see.” I slid off the stool, starting to guide him across the bar to the back. He followed me, seemingly entranced. I could feel my heart beating fast, like it was about to beat out of my chest. He smiled as I stepped into the girls bathroom, pulling him inside with me. The bathroom was filthy- covered wall to floor in writing, stickers, posters- you name it. I don’t know what I should have expected from a bar that was filthy as well. Normally I would have been repulsed by the slightest amount of grime, but my body was so overcome with a lustful alcoholic induced haze that I wasn’t thinking straight.

I pushed Derek against the wall, grabbing him by his face before pulling him down into a kiss. He kissed me back as I pulled him closer by the front of his shirt. This kiss was even better than the first one, the second one which I assume was good- even though I don’t remember- and the one only a few nights ago. Derek seemed a little caught off guard by my aggression at first, but adjusted almost immediately, kissing me harder and parting my lips to slip his tongue into my mouth, tasting the tequila we had just downed. My arms wrapped around his neck, fingers tangling themselves in his hair and tugging, earning a quiet growl. His hands snaked around my waist, pulling my body flush against his.

Derek roughly grabbed my hips, turning me around so I was the one against the wall as our lips continued to fight for dominance. I tugged harder at his small strands of hair, causing him to release a low groan into my mouth. I moved one hand down to his crotch, palming the bulge to the best of my ability. He growled again, grinding his hips into my hand.

“I can’t wait another fucking minute to have you,” Derek declared, voice deep and demanding. “I’ve been waiting, watching you try and be with Isaac, listening to him drone on about how amazing you are with that damn mouth of yours. I can’t wait anymore, Vanessa- I can’t.” It was probably just the alcohol speaking for him, but damn if the thought of him getting off to just imagining how good my mouth could be didn’t turn me on... 

“Derek,” I whimpered, clutching at his arms as his lips moved to my neck, sucking dark marks into my pale skin. One of his hands traveled to the buttons of my jeans, helping me kick them off before he ran one of his fingers over my underwear. I moaned louder than I should have- seeing as we’re in a public place- as he slipped his fingers past the fabric, teasing me expertly.

He groaned. “Holy shit, Vanessa...” I buried my face in his chest to muffle the noises coming out of my mouth as he pushed one finger into me, then another, curling them just right to bring me to the edge in no time at all. Just as I was about to hit that glorious, much deserved high, Derek pulled his hand away.

“Hey-” I started to complain, but he shut me up by gripping the backs of my thighs and lifting me with ease, setting me onto the edge of the bathroom sink. Before I could even process his movements, Derek suddenly jerked my panties to the side and ran the head of his length past my entrance. When did he even unbutton his pants?

Considering I haven’t had sex since sophomore year before Isaac and I got together, you would think I’d be a bit more hesitant to screwing Derek Hale, of all people- but that wasn’t the case. All other thoughts were pushed away as he finally seated himself inside of me, letting out a low groan as he threw his head back. I cried out at the sensation, my claws come through from my nails and puncturing the skin in the back of his shoulders- I could even feel my eyes glowing yellow.

Well, shit- that’s never happened before. 

Derek growled, nipping at my neck as he began to move his thrusts deep and slow.

“Vanessa...” He growled into my ear, that deep raspy voice making me whimper.

“Oh, god,” I managed, head tossing back against the tile wall.

“Shit,” he mumbled, picking up his pace. I groaned, feeling his claws puncture the skin of my hips, making me cry out. His eyes flickered a hot red for a moment, then changing back to green. We both were breathing heavily, trying to give each other maximum pleasure. He let out a growl as I pulsed around him, burying his face in my surprisingly-big-for-my-scrawny-body cleavage. My body was already on edge, and he just felt so perfect.

“I’m gonna-” I started to say, but didn’t even have to finish my sentence. Derek knew what I needed. He shifted his hips to keep me up and going deeper than before- then It was all over. I shouted his name as I came around him, tremors wracking my body and nails raking down his back. I heard Derek growl before stilling his movements, spilling inside of me.

We stayed there for a moment, catching our breath and trying to come down from our highs. When he pulled himself out, we both made sounds of protest. Derek stepped back, his breath still hot against my neck, letting me slide off the sink and onto my shaky legs.

“I’ve never turned during sex before.” He whispered, chuckling into my ear. I grinned, grabbing my jeans, pulling them back on. I stumbled over myself a few times before actually putting them all the way up my legs. Guess mind-blowing werewolf sex wasn’t enough to sober me up.

“Me neither. Then again, I’ve never had an orgasm like that in sex before. Or maybe I have, it’s been a while- I don’t remember.” I raked my eyes over his torso one last time before he pulled his cottony shirt on.

“I could tell... But we can’t do this again, just so you know.” 

I furrowed my eyebrows, looking up at him. “What? Why not? C’mon, please don’t be like Isaac.” I pulled my shoes back on, holding onto Derek’s shoulder for support.

“Seriously? Look at yourself- maybe Isaac has the right idea. That almost tore you apart, and it wasn’t exactly my best performance.” He turned me around in the mirror. There were claw marks on my shoulders and sides, aggressive red and purple hickey’s very prominent against my pale complexion. “By the way, those are going to be there for a while.”

I scoffed, pulling my shirt over my head. “No they won’t; my hickey’s never last.”

“Alpha hickey’s leave a mark, even on wolves... Believe me...”

Just as we had adjusted the last of our clothes, the bathroom door swung open, a woman looking not much older than Derek walking in. A gorgeous woman with wide curves and glowing blonde hair. The three of us froze for a second, staring each other down. He and I had messy hair and scrunched up shirts. She knew exactly what she walked in on. I expected a rather repulsed look to come across the woman’s face, but she just smiled, holding her hand up for a high five.

“You go, girl.” The woman said, having a very thick southern accent. I grinned hitting her hand before she walked over to the condom machine, putting a few quarters in. Taking a few seconds for Derek and I to stop our heavy petting and look around for that probably would have been a good idea. “Hoping I have the same luck you do,” Derek and I both laughed at her comments as he helped me try and position my shirt to cover the angry red marks on my shoulders. I figured the sex we just had was due to a temporary alcohol induced falter in our decision making, but some part of me, deep down, wished it would be something more. No, I have a boyfriend- I can’t think like that. I liked it, but it confused me. He confused me. I hate this. This has got to stop.

I examined myself in the mirror, fixing my hair and makeup just as the woman walked by again. “Don’t you two go getting into too much trouble, now.” As she walked by, I saw her pass in the mirror. But the person I saw in the mirror… It wasn’t a person. I sucked in a breath, feeling my blood run cold. The beautiful woman was a wrinkled, grey and black creature. My mind traveled back to something Stiles told me while we were going over a few books last night.

“Wraiths look perfectly human- unless you see their reflection. That’s how you can tell who’s a monster and who’s not.”

I grabbed Derek’s hand, trying to get him to look in the mirror, but it was too late. The woman had already left the bathroom.

“What?” He asked, quite confused. 

I rolled my eyes, dragging him out of the bathroom, frantically looking around to see where the woman had gone off too, but she was nowhere to be seen. 

“The woman in the bathroom- she... her face, she...” The woman hadn’t even left the bathroom a second ago and she was already gone. 

“Vanessa, are you okay? The booze must be getting to you,”

“I know what I saw! Stiles said they look human unless you look at them in a mirror. I did not see a human in that mirror! That woman is a wraith, Derek. A fucking wraith!” I spat at him. His eyes widened in surprise at my sudden outburst.

“Okay, okay. Call Allison, see if she saw anyone leave.”

I nodded and took out my phone, clicking Allison’s name on my phone and calling her. She picked up before the first ring even finished.

“What- what is it?”

“We saw it. It’s a wraith. We saw it leave the bathroom and it disappeared. Did anyone come out of the bar?”

“I’m sorry, did you say ‘we’?” Allison had a condescending tone in her voice, but I knew I couldn’t talk to her about it now. Not when Isaac was with her, and especially not now that we had lost track of a blood thirsty monster.

“I’ll tell you later.” I mumbled into the phone. Derek shot me a look, but I brushed it off. He was obviously eavesdropping on the conversation. “If it didn’t leave, it’s still in here…”

“Hold on- Vanessa there’s someone in the alley. It looks like a guy and a girl… It’s… Oh, my god! Oh, god he’s screaming.” Allison was silent for a second- well either that or my mind had just frozen itself in it’s drunk shock of a haze. “Shit, get out there! I can’t get a clear shot with the crossbow! Isaac, get down there!” Ally hung up the phone before I did, so I looked around frantically for a shady looking ally-exit door. 

“There!” Derek pointed out, now dragging me towards it. Of course, a door right next to the bathrooms.

“Get your claws out, Hale.” I pulled him next to me, and out the back door where sure enough, the blonde woman had a middle aged guy pressed against the brick wall. When she saw us come out of the bar, she froze, turning to us. I may not have been able to see every detail of her clearly, but I could defiantly see the bone-like spike coming through out of her wrist- I felt like throwing up just looking at it.

“What the hell? What’re you two doing here?” I know I should be focusing on a strategy to take it down, but all I could look at was the long spike, and her eyes followed mine, catching my gaze on it.

“Are you the one killing everyone?” I asked her, trying to push myself past Derek and towards her, but he outstretched his arm to keep me behind him. 

“Oh, you’ve caught me.” It gave us an eerie grin, causing goosebumps to travel up my skin. “What’re you gonna do now? You two were barley sober enough to redress yourselves, and you think you can take me?”

Derek took another step forward. “I can do this,” He pushed the man out of the way, grabbing the woman by her shoulders. “Vanessa, grab the spike!”

My mind was so fuzzy that Derek’s words hardly registered fast enough, but my hands seemed to move subconsciously, grabbing the slick, groovy spike. Derek then, without warning, pushed the woman down onto her back so quickly that the spike broke off in my hand, blood now spurting out of her wrist. I gagged, dropping the spike onto the ground and trying not to think about the obscenely gross sight in front of me. 

“Fucking asshole!” She screamed, throwing it’s head back, jolting it in a way that made me cringe. She had slowly started to pull herself up, eyes turning into glowing white slits. “It’s a good thing you both god laid today, because I don’t need that spire to kill-” Before she could even finish her sentence, an arrow was shot clean through the wraiths heart from behind it. The man who was about to become this thing’s dinner ran for his life, while the creature dropped to her knees. Her skin went from the perfect tan that the blonde had, to an ugly grey with wrinkles and warts all over it.

As the wraith dropped, all I could see was Allison and Isaac behind it, Ally with her crossbow at eye level. “Ew,” She grumbled. I let out a little laugh, then turned my head to look at Isaac who looked like he’d just seen a ghost.

“Isaac, you okay?” Derek asked, Isaac’s eyes staying fixed on me. 

“Come on Isaac, you’ve seen worse things than an arrow through the heart.” I laughed, going to high-five Ally whose hand was already up and waiting. 

“What did she mean when she said ‘Good thing you both got laid tonight’?” He shouted and I froze, gaze moving over to Derek. Shit. “Vanessa, what did she mean?” He raised his tone, causing Allison to look up and back and forth between the two of us. This is going to get ugly. 

“Isaac, we should go home and talk about this, okay?” I went to grab Isaac, but he stepped back with every step I took towards him. I have to admit, a part of me felt hurt, but I understood. Allison wrapped her arm around my shoulder, holding me close.

“I’ll drive you two home. Derek, you can walk, right?”

“Yeah, I’m good.”

“Great.”

DEREK

After seeing the look on Isaac’s face, I felt nothing but pride in what I had done to his girlfriend. It was wrong- I knew it was wrong. Isaac’s probably one of the only friends I have in this hell-pit of a town, and if Vanessa tells him even a small part of what went down tonight, I’ve broken that bond indefinitely. I should feel bad, but I can’t help feeling that it was worth it. Vanessa said she’d never had sex like that- not even with him. Judging by how goddamn good she felt, I’m not sure she’s even had sex with him at all.

Except I told her it’ll never happen again.

I know for a fact, just by reading her body language when she sees me, that she’s drawn to me. I don’t know by what, but it's definitely there, and hell, if I’m not going to do everything I can to ignore it. I don’t know if I can suppress it, and the more I see her, the more I feel her, the more I taste her, the more I feel just as drawn to her as she is to me. But I’m dangerous- toxic, even. She’s only eighteen with her whole life ahead of her. I can’t destroy her, and I know I will if I let her get too close. 

I can’t explain why, from the moment I crossed the Beacon Hills border I was drawn to her. I can’t explain why every time I’m with her, I feel more alive. I can’t explain why the sex with her was so good, that it makes me want to climb through her bedroom window tonight and do it again a hundred more times. I can’t explain any of this; all I can explain is that I can’t be with her- because it would kill her. It would probably kill me too.

The walk home was a short one, and of course Peter was lying on the couch, book in his hand, when I stepped through the loft door.

“Oh, you’re home. How nice of you to finally show up at... Well would you look at that? One in the morning.”

I rolled my eyes, trying to ignore the little burning pains from the lines Vanessa etched into my back. “I’m twenty-three, Peter. I don’t have a curfew.”

“Yes you do, and you’re home way past it. Did you at least gank the thing you were looking for?”

“The hunter shot an arrow straight through it’s heart, made it shrivel up on the ground and die a slow, horrible death.” I grinned, taking my shirt off to let the cuts breathe.

“That’s- Holy shit!” I spun myself around to see Peter sitting up on the couch, his eyes wide. “Your back!”

“Yeah, I know. Wraith got ahold of me.” I lied through my teeth, which is something I was used to doing with Peter. I could keep my heartbeat steady.

“Remind me to stay away from those things...  I mean, shit. It tore you up.” He huffed, looking back down at his book. The places where her claws punctured my skin had already healed, but the pricks of pain were still there.

“Yeah... remind me to stay away from it too...”