#we were caught before the train robbery even started

[marimeeko]

Thinking lately about Izuku(a civilian now) getting caught up in some Villain shenanigans(think like a random hostage situation or heist/robbery)(he is literally at the wrong place at the wrong time) and the possibilities of what could happen.

The possibilities of the civilians recognizing him and hoping for him to save them? Him doing his best to keep them all together and calm?

The possibilities of whether or not the villains recognize him or slowly start to figure it out? Do they know he's actually Quirkless now and try to take advantage of that? Or do they think he still has powers and immediately try to restrain and overpower him?

How Izuku either fights back or tries to thwart the villains? How he stays quiet at first, but is observing and analyzing the crap out of them and their Quirks?(while it's technically illegal for him to act as a hero, he also wouldn't stand down if the villains were threatening to harm any of the hostages)

If he has an actual altercation with them? And what if he gets injured? (I imagine he can hold his own reasonably well in a hand to hand fight! He still trains and is in shape, maybe even spars with Kacchan, and he has that extremely high pain tolerance! But he still gets clocked especially if he's trying to prevent them from doing harm)

And what happens when GEMG DynaMight gets to the scene. And does Katsuki know before hand that Izuku is involved of find out afterward when Izuku is released with the hostages? Or when he busts in to stop them and sees Izuku himself??

Or do the villains know enough about Izuku and Katsuki to make Izuku their primary hostage and hold Izuku hostage for some sort of ransom or deal with DynaMight?

And do they know enough to know that that's pretty much a death wish for them?

How about Izuku being just cool as a cucumber even though they're threatening DynaMight bc he knows enough about these suckers now to know that they are no match for Dynamight....much less when he is ANGRY.

Or how bout Izuku actually trying to talk them out of their dumb idea (full on teacher voice activated) because he knows they're petty criminals who are acting this way for a reason, but they shouldn't add kidnapping to their rapsheet.

DynaMight busting in and busting them, of course, and putting the fear of god into the villains whenever he is aware of Izuku being involved. He takes it personally, maybe hitting the guy holding down izuku a little harder than the others before arresting them.

What about when Katsuki gets Izuku out of there, he fusses endlessly over Izukus injuries and bloody face, and refuses to let Izuku go home by himself(he needs to be monitored for a concussion, that's all!)

I MEAN WHY HAVE WE NOT THOUGHT MORE ABOUT THIS ASPECT THERES SO MUCH POTENTIAL HERE.

If this is a fic already I really want to read it... Daniart already made an art to this theme and I saw it today, meanwhile I have definitely been pondering it for a day or two *bkdk brainmeld*

[raaorqtpbpdy]

Dead on Arrival

Written for the Phic Phight Prompts: In some hospitals, CPR is done to a patient despite them being declared dead on arrival. This is a courtesy to the family. The doctor doesn't expect the scream when they lay down the defibrillator paddles on the boy's chest (from @eyesofcrows), Danny gets caught in the middle of a bank robbery. Can he diffuse the situation without revealing his powers? (@wingedflight), and For some reason someone uses defibrillators on Danny, the feeling is all too familiar to him (@phantomphangphucker)

AO3 Link

[Warnings for blood, injury, violence, flashbacks, minor dissociation, hospitals, and near-death experiences]

Daniel Fenton was dead on arrival. Everyone there when he was brought to Amity Park General Hospital knew that. No pulse, no breathing, already cool to the touch. But his parents were inconsolable, desperate. They demanded something be done. So the doctor called for a defibrillator and started chest compressions, just for the parents' peace of mind. They'd just lost their fourteen-year-old son. It was the least the doctors could do to extend them this courtesy.

When the nurse came in with the defibrillator, they cut away the boy's shirt to press the paddles to his bare skin, ignoring the slick blood covering every inch of skin. They all knew nothing would come of this, that it was more or less for show, but they did it anyway. The nurse set the charge.

"Clear," warned the doctor before administrating the shock.

None of them were expecting the corpse to scream. A visceral, bone-chilling scream. A scream that rattled the windows, that made the lights in the whole hospital flicker with the force of it. A scream like the auditory incarnation of pain itself.

The doctors and nurses all slammed their hands against their ears, desperately trying to block out the sound, to no avail. It was the most horrible thing they'd ever heard in their lives. But it meant one thing. Danny Fenton was alive after all.

—

It was rare for Danny to encounter trouble with humans. He was a ghost hero, after all, so he mostly dealt with ghosts causing trouble. There were a few exceptions, like Freakshow, and sometimes Vlad, but even the exceptions were at least ghost-adjacent. These guys weren't.

They were one hundred percent human, committing a one hundred percent human crime. Two in the bank lobby, two more cracking the safe. Danny had just been coming to cash a birthday check when they showed up waving guns around and demanded everybody get down on the floor. It wouldn't have been fair for Danny to go ghost to fight a bunch of bank robbers, but of course, they were pointing guns at civilians, and he wasn't about to let that slide, either.

"That's it, nobody's gotta be a hero," one of the robbers said, and that sounded like a cue if ever Danny had heard one, because there was no way he was about to let that happen.

"Excuse me," he said, standing up to get their attention entirely on him. Immediately both the robbers in the reception area had their guns trained on him. It was preferable to having those things aimed at regular humans, not to mention an unfortunately familiar position for Danny to be in, so he had no trouble remaining calm as he raised his arms to show them he couldn't fight back.

"Si'down, kid," barked one of the robbers.

"I was just wondering if this is really the best use of your time," Danny said casually, staying on his feet, keeping the robbers' focus all on him. "I mean, surely you have better things to do than rot in prison, right?"

"There'll be no prison, 'cause we won't get caught!" the other robber said.

"Sure you won't," Danny said sardonically. "Except, you're not wearing masks, and this place is full of cameras." Idiots. Danny's presence might've given them a fighting chance, that is, if every public building in Amity Park hadn't made the switch to Fenton Spook-Proof Security Cameras about a year ago. "So I have to wonder what exactly your plan is here? Are you gonna get radical plastic surgery with the money you steal?"

The one closest to Danny smirked. "Robbie hacked the cameras before we came in, ain't that right, Robbie?"

"Uh... I thought Nick was supposed to do that," said the one standing by the teller's desk.

"What?!" said the first guy. "That was your job!"

"I don't know how to hack cameras, Jack." Robbie responded.

"Jack, Nick, and Robbie, huh?" Danny repeated. "Robbie the robber? Who's your fourth guy, Steal?"

"Melvin," Robbie said, "but his last name is Steel. How'd you know that?"

"And what's your last name?" Danny asked.

"Johnson, but I don't see what that has to do with anyth—"

"Robbie you fuckin' moron!" Jack groaned. "Now he knows our names and our faces!"

"Oh, shoot!" Robbie lowered his gun to slap a hand over his mouth.

"That's not a bad idea," Jack said, putting on a wicked grin and leveling his gun at Danny, whose eyes widened. "He can't talk if he's dead."

"Wait!" Danny shouted, but he didn't have time to say anything else before Jack shot several rounds into his gut and he collapsed backwards onto the floor.

Dark red bloomed across Danny's shirt. It stung a little, but it wasn't so bad, actually. Not as bad as an ecto-blast, but worse than a paper cut, he decided. Although, that could've just been because his brain hadn't caught up with the injury yet. His extremities were already loosing feeling as blood pumped out of the holes in his abdomen and pooled around him. It was a shame. Danny really liked this shirt, and now it was completely ruined.

He knew he'd bleed out before the police arrived, even though the robbers had failed to prevent the teller from tripping the silent alarm. He'd probably be okay in the long run, but he'd pass out for a bit while his body healed. All Danny could do was hope these idiots didn't realize that everyone else in the bank had also heard their names, and could therefore identify them just as well as Danny could. As long as he was the only one who got shot, everything was okay. That was his last thought before he lost consciousness from the blood loss.

The next thing Danny knew, was the all too familiar sensation of electricity shooting through his heart. It wasn't as strong as the last time, but it reminded him of it, of the portal accident, and the memory alone made it feel much much worse. The phantom pains that tore through him as he recalled the worst experience of his life increased the pain a thousand fold.

A scream ripped from his throat.

Whatever was happening in that moment didn't exist to him.

He had no idea where he was, or how he'd been zapped, or what else, or who else was around him.

All he could see was green.

All he could feel was a burning pain lighting up every nerve in his body, ionizing his atoms, rearranging his molecules.

The smell of ozone and charred meat filled his nose.

The metallic taste of blood overtook his mouth as electricity arced between his teeth.

His screams would echo in his head for months to come, would haunt his dreams as long as he haunted the Earth, perhaps longer.

It was overwhelming.

He was overwhelmed.

After a lifetime and a moment, the pain started to fade; the sensations ebbed. Everything was still. Everything was quiet, but for the ringing in his ear drums.

Danny felt floaty and faraway. He fisted his hands, digging his nails into his palms to ground himself, and pushed himself into a sitting position. Gradually, he became more aware of his surroundings.

He was in a hospital room. It smelled like antiseptic and blood. The light was out. Shattered glass glinted on the countertop. The hospital bed was thin but soft under his hands. He took a deep, shuddering breath.

No one seemed to be there until Danny looked down. A doctor, two nurses, and Danny's parents were all unconscious on the floor, blood dripping slowly from their ears. Alarmed, Danny checked to see if they were alive, and sighed in relief when they were.

He'd done this.

It was all his fault.

[cptg00s3]

Titel TBD

Arthur Morgan was a man of many talents. He could shoot a gun like nobody's business, ride a horse like it was an extension of himself, and he was a natural leader. But perhaps one of Arthur's greatest talents was his ability to care deeply for those around him, especially his fellow gang members.

One such member was (Y/N), a young man who had joined the gang not too long ago. He was tough and resilient, but he had a kind heart and a gentle spirit that Arthur couldn't help but admire. Over time, the two of them had become good friends, and Arthur found himself growing more and more fond of him with each passing day.

It was during a routine train robbery that (Y/N) was injured. They had been caught off guard by a group of lawmen, and bullets had been flying everywhere. Arthur had been busy trying to get the gang out of there safely when he heard a scream. He turned around to see (Y/N) clutching his leg, blood seeping through his fingers.

Without a second thought, Arthur rushed to his side. He tore off a piece of his shirt and used it to apply pressure to the wound. (Y/N) was in a lot of pain, but he managed to smile weakly at Arthur.

"Thanks," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Don't mention it," Arthur replied, trying to keep the worry out of his voice. "You're going to be okay. We just need to get you some help."

They managed to make it back to camp, where (Y/N) was quickly attended to by the gang's resident doctor, who cleaned and stitched up his wound. But even with the doctor's care, (Y/N) was still in a lot of pain. He spent the next few days lying in bed, unable to do much except rest.

Arthur spent most of his time by his side, bringing him food and water, and making sure he was comfortable. He even went out of his way to find some books for him to read, knowing that he would get bored lying in bed all day.

As the days went by, (Y/N) slowly started to recover. His wound began to heal, and he started to regain his strength. Arthur was there every step of the way, encouraging him and cheering him on.

One day, as (Y/N) was sitting outside, enjoying the fresh air, Arthur came to join him. He sat down next to him, his shoulder brushing against his.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, his voice soft.

"Better," (Y/N) replied, smiling at him. "Thanks to you."

Arthur chuckled. "I didn't do much," he said. "Just took care of you like I would anyone else in the gang."

(Y/N) shook his head. "No, it was more than that," he said. "You were there for me, even when you had other things to worry about. You took the time to make sure I was comfortable, and you even found me some books to read."

Arthur shrugged. "Just trying to help," he said.

(Y/N) turned to him, his eyes serious. "You know, Arthur, I think you're one of the kindest people I've ever met," he said. "You always put others before yourself, and you never hesitate to help someone in need. I don't think I would have made it through this without you."

Arthur felt his cheeks grow warm. He wasn't used to receiving compliments like this, especially from someone he cared about so deeply.

"Thank you," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

(Y/N) smiled at him, then leaned in closer, his gaze never leaving Arthur's.

"I mean it, Arthur," he said softly. "You're one of the best people I know."

Arthur's heart was racing as he looked into his eyes. He could feel a warmth spreading through his chest, and he realized with a start that he was starting to feel something more than friendship for (Y/N).

Before he could say anything, (Y/N) leaned in and pressed his lips against Arthur's. The kiss was soft and sweet, but it sent shockwaves through Arthur's body. He pulled away, his eyes wide.

"I...I don't know what to say," he stammered.

(Y/N) smiled at him, his hand reaching up to cup Arthur's cheek. "You don't have to say anything," he said. "I just wanted you to know how much you mean to me."

Arthur's heart was pounding in his chest as he looked at him. He could see the affection and tenderness in his eyes, and he knew then that he felt the same way. He leaned in and kissed him again, this time more passionately.

From that day forward, Arthur and (Y/N) were inseparable. They spent every moment they could together, talking, laughing, and enjoying each other's company. They went on horseback rides through the countryside, sat by the campfire under the stars, and shared stolen kisses whenever they could.

Even though the gang was still facing danger and uncertainty every day, Arthur and (Y/N) found solace in each other's arms. They knew that they could face anything as long as they had each other, and they were determined to make the most of the time they had together.

As the weeks turned into months, Arthur and (Y/N) grew closer and closer. They talked about their hopes and dreams for the future, about what they wanted to do once the gang was disbanded. They knew that their time together was limited, but they refused to let that dampen their spirits.

In the end, it was (Y/N) who decided to leave the gang first. He had found a small homestead where he could live a peaceful life, away from the violence and danger of the gang. Arthur was sad to see him go, but he knew it was for the best.

As they said their goodbyes, Arthur took (Y/N) hand and looked into his eyes.

"I love you," he said softly.

(Y/N) smiled at him. "I love you too," he said, then turned and walked away.

Arthur watched him go, his heart heavy with longing. But he knew that (Y/N) was doing what was best for himself, and he was happy that (Y/N) had found some peace and happiness.

In the years that followed, Arthur often thought of him, wondering how (Y/N) was doing and what he was up to. But no matter what happened, he knew that (Y/N) would always hold a special place in his heart, and he would never forget the time they spent together.

[breakerwhiskey]

228 - TWO HUNDRED TWENTY EIGHT

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Transcript under the cut. For more episodes, click here.

[click, static]

She said it was the right thing to do. That the gravy train had to stop at some point, and that she wanted to get off before she became a casualty of it. I think that’s a pretty fucking presumptuous thing to assume—plenty of thieves don’t get caught and we were good. And, besides, she could have just quit! She didn’t have to be doing what she was doing, but when she found out about Pete…

When I’ve said that I never knew much about Pete’s life, that was true. Mostly. I really never did know anything about his personal life or what he’d been doing before putting together this crew. I never asked and he never volunteered any information.

But that wasn’t the whole truth. I didn’t know much about his life then but Harry…Harry filled in some blanks.

Pete wasn’t just an art thief. It wasn’t all penthouses and auction houses for him, apparently. He started with banks. And something like ninety percent of all bank robbers get caught, but Pete was…the best of the best. The feds had no clue who he was, barely even had his height and race. And then, one off the robberies went bad and he—a few people died. Three people.

So he came back to his hometown of New York to disappear among the millions. He cooled his heels and then he started in again, just on a higher brow racket.

I don’t know how Harry figured this out. We…we didn’t get to that point in our conversation. (scoffs) “Conversation”, there’s a euphemism for it. Argument? Screaming match? Dropping a nuclear bomb into our tentatively okay existence? I was a little more focused on the revelation that the person I’d been living with for six years had betrayed me and the people we cared about. The revelation that my mentor had killed a few people…

I don’t know. I’m still not sure…Harry has no reason to lie. Not about this. And, I guess, there were things through the years that made me think Pete’s past was a lot more checkered than even your typical thief. But I wasn’t lying when I said he always seemed like a stand-up guy to me. He was. He was good and kind and fair and the fact that he made his money through illegal endeavors felt really secondary to all of that.

I’m not sure the knowledge that he’s killed people—multiple people and not—not entirely by accident, not like—

It should change things. I know it should. And it isn’t that I don’t believe Harry, even not knowing how she found out about it, it—I don’t think she would have done what she did unless she’d been certain. I’ll give her that. But it hasn’t reshaped who Pete is in my head.

He took me in, mentored me, was a friend. He made me his ally when he could have just as easily made me an enemy. He saw something in me. Something worth…something worth attention and care. And I hadn’t had that since my father died and I—

I’ve thought a lot about what I would have done if I’d known before. I’ve shared nearly every other thought I’ve had in my head besides these ones, because I had to make room somehow, over this past—god, year, since I learned the truth.

What if Harry had come to me first before going to the feds? What if I’d been the one to uncover Pete’s past and not her? What would I have done?

I wouldn’t have betrayed him, that’s for sure and fucking certain. I probably would’ve confronted him about it. Maybe. I would’ve wanted to hear his side of things. I would’ve wanted to know why he did what he did, how he felt about it now. And maybe I wouldn’t have—well, I wouldn’t have understood it, the way I do now, if I’d known before, because if I’d known, we never would’ve been arrested and I’d never have killed Billings and—

[click, static]

I still think I would’ve been sympathetic. Empathetic. I don’t know. I would’ve given him…grace. Forgiveness. Even if it isn’t mine to forgive. I would’ve loved him just the same.

And that’s the rub, isn’t it? Harry said that she could never—she said that she wasn’t honest about how she felt because she was too swallowed up by guilt, was too scared to tell me the truth and have me run away and too scared to start anything when she had this secret but what if it wasn’t that at all? What if the way she felt about me—the way she’d ever be able to feel about me—changed the moment Billings hit the pavement? She found the truth out about Pete and stopped caring for him in a blink. She saw what I did, so surely—

[click, static]

Well, in any case, I guess she was right. I did run away.

[click, static]

[j-eryewrites]

The Abbey Grange Affair (II)

Part Seven of The Arbitrary Lives of the Occupants of 221b Baker Street

Word Count: 5.9 k

Previous | Next

SERIES MASTER LIST | MAIN MASTER LIST

Warning: Description of the crime scene, Description of physical injuries (bruises), a tiny hint of Sherlock fluff, robbery, murder, and slight mention of suicide. 

---

The rhythm in Sherlock’s step was a few paces faster than those slugging behind him. A faint smile adorned his face despite the early hour of the morning. With his coat collar held high, he marched towards the ticket purchasing desk. By the time Sherlock had purchased and paid for 3 train tickets to Bath, John and Y/N had finally caught up to him. Their cheeks both were bright pink from the cold early morning air. 

Sherlock turned towards the two holding the tickets in his hand raising his eyebrows slightly. John watched the tickets in Sherlock’s hand trying to decipher them. 

“You got tickets to Bath.” Opening his mouth to continue John quickly shut it, then after a short pause continued. “Sherlock, mind telling us why we are going to Bath at three in the morning?” John motioned towards the sinking figure of Y/N. 

Sherlock gaped at John lowering the hand holding the tickets. “The game is afoot John. I’ve already told you and Y/N this. Keep up.” 

“Yes, Sherlock I know…” John explained. 

“But what game exactly and why at…bloody three in the morning?” Interrupted Y/N.  John glanced over at Y/N feeling pity for her. She still was yet to realize the game Sherlock was talking about was a case. 

Frustration grew apparent on Sherlock’s face. Without another word, Sherlock left John and Y/N making his way to the train heading for Bath. John, realizing that the sleep-deprived woman was never going to keep up with Sherlock and his incredibly long stride, walked over to her and lead her in the direction Sherlock went.  

Glancing at his watch, Sherlock impatiently tapped his food on the floor, annoyed with his companion’s slow pace. It wasn’t his fault that he was naturally a brisk walker. Eventually, the two familiar people appeared in the corner of his eye. 

“Took you long enough.” Sherlock stated. 

“I’m sorry, your highness,” sarcastically grumbled Y/N. 

Sherlock rolled his eyes at Y/N’s childish comment. This was not the time or place. Handing both John and Y/N their tickets, Sherlock began, “ Once we get on the train, I will explain everything.”  Lowering his head towards Y/N’s ear he whispered, “You never know who may be watching.”

Giving Sherlock a slight shove, she grabbed her ticket and made her way onto the train. John unapologetically follows after her, leaving Sherlock behind. 

It was not hard for the three of them to find their seats on the vacated train. Any reasonable person would not have been up at three in the morning to get on a train to Bath, yet here they were. They were seated in a compartment on the train. Y/N made herself comfy in a window seat bringing her legs close to her body and resting her head against the window. John sat across from her, his back as straight as a needle; a physical memory from his days in the service. Sherlock took the seat next to Y/N, after closing the door to the compartment. 

Barely ten minutes later the train left the station and made its way to Bath. The only sound occupying the compartment was the rattling of the train cart along the tracks. It seemed as if even the great detective was tired from the disruption to his sleep. From inside, Y/N could see the occasional car driving by as she nestled further into her coat. John and Sherlock doing the same. Not one of them broke the silence despite Sherlock’s promise to explain everything. 

It wasn’t long before an overly cheery woman with a cart came by offering tea. Her hands shook as she handed each person a cup. The three of them gladly took the tea and began sipping away.  As the warmth of the tea began to fill their stomachs and bodies, their lips began to defrost and a conversation began. 

It started with Y/N, looking for a distraction to stay awake despite the alluring sound of the train upon the tracks. “Sherlock, you said you would explain why you woke us up so early, so explain.”

Taking a long sip of his tea, Sherlock drew his phone out of his pocket and began to read. 

“Excuse the sudden message, but I require your assistance. Late last night, I received a call about a case. After arriving at the scene of the crime, my station and I began to realize that this is no ordinary case. If I learned anything from my experiences at university it would be that extraordinary cases call for Sherlock Holmes. The scene has been kept exactly as I found it, except for the lady of the house, whom I have released. Please come as soon as possible. 

- Stanley Hopkins”

Turning off his phone and placing it back in his pocket, Sherlock continued, now having the full attention of John and Y/N. “Stanley has called me several times within the last few years. Each of his cases has been quite intriguing.” Turning towards John, he added, “I think that some of these cases would be popular blogs for you to write, John.”

John, crossing his right leg over his left, challenged, “ Why don’t you write the blogs, Sherlock?”

“I will, John. Currently, I am very busy with consulting. However, I plan to use my declining years to write a textbook on deduction with examples from my cases.”  A snort caught Sherlock’s attention and he leered at the source of the noise– Y/N. 

Upon noticing that her stifled laugh was caught, she began to apologize. “Sorry, it’s just…” She began chuckling, “It just sounds ridiculous.” 

Turning away from the woman, Sherlock clenched his jaw. “I would advise you not to call your employer’s plans ridiculous.” 

John couldn’t help but laugh as well. Sherlock’s blue eyes shot him a glare. “To be fair, Sherlock, she’s right. It is ridiculous.” 

Realizing that he could not win against two sleep-deprived children, Sherlock brought the subject back to the case. “A little after eleven, Mr. Eustace and Mrs. Eustace were attacked. I believe that Mr. Eutsace is dead.” 

Again the sound of the train dominated the room. John hesitated, “You believe he’s dead?”

“I would say so, John. Hopkin’s message shows considerable agitation. He’s not an emotional man. So yes, John. I believe there has been a murder.  Mrs. Eustace was released by Hopkins, as I read, so it leaves none other than Mr. Eustace. Additionally, a mere suicide would not have caused Hopkins to send for me,” Sherlock answered. “I think that Hopkins will live up to his reputation of intriguing cases and that we will have an interesting morning.” Usually, this type of deduction would impress all those around Sherlock, but with the addition of sleep deprivation. 

Nodding his head, John began to look out the window. It would be some time before the three of them arrived at the station. With his eyes growing heavy, he began to pull out his phone to provide an awakening distraction; knowing that if he gave in to his tiredness, he would not arise when they arrived at the station. 

Across from John, Y/N began to fall into her sleepiness. Her desire to stay awake became non-existent as her eyes slowly began to close, the darkness welcoming her. With the constant lull of the train, she gave into her slumber. Sherlock had to pull out his laptop to do some research. One should always be prepared for a case. As he began typing away, a heavy weight fell upon his shoulder. He slowly turned his head to gaze at the woman now sleeping on his shoulder. Looking over to John, he tried to catch his friend’s attention. Unfortunately, John was deeply focused on his phone. Narrowing his eyes, Sherlock began to slightly squirm in his seat but stopped once he heard a soft whim from Y/N. His blue eyes once again fell upon Y/N. Her breath relaxed and calm as her lashes slightly grazed against the top of her cheekbones. Sherlock continue to work away, but not before slouching ever so slightly so that Y/N’s delicate head could rest more comfortably on his shoulder.  A slight shade of pink tinted his cheeks, something that did not go unnoticed by John. 

_____

Y/N groaned as a bright light filled her vision. She was sleeping so comfortably, why did she have to wake up? Upon opening her eyes, she remembered where she was. Shooting up from her sleeping position on the seat. John had woken her up. Sherlock had jumped out of his seat the minute the train had come to its destination. Stretching slightly, she stood up and exited the train with John. 

Sherlock stood impatiently, tapping his foot whilst his companions made their way out of the train. He couldn’t but think of why John was teasing him for vacating the train so quickly. 

The train came to a stop and an automated voice came out of the speakers signalling the train had arrived in Bath. Shifting in his seat Sherlock prepared to leave. 

“Sherlock, what are you doing?” 

Glancing around, Sherlock replied, “I’m leaving the train, John.”

“Yes, I know, but you have to wake up Y/N.” John pointed towards the woman still sleeping soundly on Sherlock’s shoulder. 

“Why would I do that? John, the game is a foot and we must show the utmost urgency.” Sherlock stated. 

John opened his mouth to reply, but a large knowing smile erupted on his face. “Do you not want Y/N to know you let her fall asleep on your shoulder.” 

Scoffing Sherlock stammered, “Of course not, John. She fell asleep on me.”

“Oh come on, Sherlock. I saw you sacrifice your perfect posture so she could be more comfortable.” Chuckled John. 

Clenching his jaw, he carefully lifted Y/N’s head off his shoulder and laid her down. Standing up, he quickly left the cart, but not before instructing John to awaken the sleeping woman. 

Did he care? Thought Sherlock. No, he thought. It was just his drive to arrive at the crime. After all, he had been so bored for quite a while. If only John and Y/N would have left the train already. Right then, the two people emerged from the train, laughing about who knows what. Sherlock couldn’t help but ponder the possible reason for her lively smile. 

“Are you two done laughing? Stanley is waiting in a car to take us to Abbey Grange.” Insisted Sherlock. 

“Ya, we’re coming Sherlock.” Chirped Y/N. Clearly, the short nap on the train had done her some good. 

Nodding, Sherlock began marching off in the direction of Stanley’s car, John and Y/N following him. A shouting of the name Sherlock caught their attention. The three of them turned to face the direction and found a young and lively man in police attire. 

“Sherlock! It’s Stanley!” The man’s light brown hair bounced up and down as he yelled waving his arms in the air making sure that he had the consulting detective’s attention. 

Grimacing Sherlock replied in a pitch that matched Stanley’s, “Yep! I see you, Stanley!” Y/N and John began chuckling with each other and Sherlock silenced them with a curt “Shut up.”

When they had caught up with Stanley, introductions began. Sherlock introduced Stanley. “This is Stanley Hopkins, one of my friends at university.” As Sherlock acknowledged Stanley, a big bright smile adorned Stanley’s face. Stanley was quite shorter than Sherlock, but he made up for his short stature in size. He had large rosy cheeks that crinkled with his smile. His curly bushy mustache followed the shape of his smile.  

“Hello, everyone!” Turning towards John he stuck out his hand. “You must be John!” Stanley chirped. John shook his hand in reply.  “I’m a big fan of your blog. The wife and I love to read it whenever it comes out.” 

John sheepishly replied, “Thanks?”

Then the man turned towards Y/N, “I don’t think I heard about you, Miss..”

The woman looked at Stanley with a smile and introduced herself, “L/N. Y/N L/N. I’m Sherlock’s new assistant.”

Stanley grabbed her hand and gave it a good shake. “She’s a pretty one, Sherlock.” He joked. Y/N’s eyes widen, and her face flushed with embarrassment. Sherlock ignored Stanley’s comment and began to ask about the case. “Right, Sherlock, always wanting to hear about the cases.” Slapping Sherlock on the back making Sherlock stand stiffer, Stanley began chuckling, “the things this man would get into at Uni…Anyway, my cars just…well here and if you just hop in, I’ll drive you over to Abbey Grange.”

Y/N was the first to open the door to the car, upon opening the door, she came to find a child’s car seat and many toys and snacks scattered around the floor and seats of the car. “Ermm…” hesitated Y/N, “Are we all going to fit in the car?” The three men turned to look at her and Stanley’s eyes widened. 

“Dear me!” Stanley exclaimed. “I didn’t realize there’d be three of you. Let me just move the car seat out of the way real quick.” He snuck past Y/N and dived into the back seat, fiddling with the car seat until it came loose. After taking it out he placed it in his trunk. Then he returned to the back seat and began brushing off the various crumbs and snacks onto the floor. Then emerging from the car, he swung his arms dramatically, “Milady.” Y/N gave a slight smile and cautiously entered the car. Slowly John and Sherlock followed suit. Once everyone was settled, Stanley began to apologize. “Sorry about the mess, my kid…Well, my kid. Let’s just say you would have had a much more pleasurable experience taking a cab.” Y/N lowered her head and began to fiddle with her fingers. “But Sherlock insisted that he wouldn’t take a cab. Something about the germs.” Y/N glanced over at the back of Sherlock’s head, with a softened gaze. She knew for a fact that Sherlock did not have a thing for germs. She had seen the way he kept his flat. “So you get the pleasure of riding in the Beatle.” Beamed Stanley as he gently tapped the wheel. 

Sherlock mumbled, “Only you would name your car after the Beatles.” 

Stanley looked over at Sherlock. “You remembered?!” Looking in the rearview mirror, he grinned, “I love the Beatles. In fact, my dorm room was decorated in Beatles records, posters, photos, you name it.” Glancing down at his stereo, a light grew in his eyes. “In fact, why don’t we listen to some Beatles right now.”

As Stanley’s thick finger fiddled with the stereo, Sherlock cleared his throat and requested to hear about the case in more detail. Once Stanley had finished placing the Beatles cd into the stereo, he started to inform his three guests about the case. “As you might not have known I am the D.I. for the Bath police department…” Stanley then began to go on a tangent about the case that promoted him to D.I. Sherlock groaned knowing that Stanley could not be swayed from his tangents. 

Y/N began to zone out of the conversation and looked out the window. The sun’s rays began to peak out and the sky slowly became a beautiful shade of pink and orange. Although the review was dampened by small handprints and drawings on the window that became apparent with the slight frost on the windows. A soft smile appeared on her face as she remembered when she would do the same as a child. Her mother always got stern when the car windows were adorned with smiley faces and other images. With the theme of childhood on her mind, Y/N’s thoughts turned towards the strange recurring dreams that have visited her the past few nights. They were of James. Her childhood best friend. Y/N thought of how the two would get into so much trouble running outdoors, returning home covered in mud. Then when the two entered school, she remembered the protector she found in her friend. James stood up for her when she was bullied or looked down on by the teachers. He would always say he would protect her. Soon she began to wonder where James was today. What job did he have? Did he take on his father’s business whatever it was? Was he married? What about a family? Puzzled, Y/N began to question why she was dreaming about James in the first place, but her train of thought was cut off by Stanley’s loud chuckle at something Sherlock had commented. 

After collecting his breath, Stanley turned down a long narrow country road. There were large trees and barren bushes lined the pathway. The speed of the car began to slow as they approached a rusted gate. The gate was then opened by an elder man whose face bore the roughness of time. Stanley’s car continued to drive down the lane passing by a park-like field. The trees were barren, and leaves have fallen on the ground. Eventually, they came to a large beige house in front of them. There were many police cars and policemen and women standing all around the front yard. Finally, the car came to a stop, and they all exited the car. The sight of the house took Y/N’s breath away. It was the if the home was taken out of one of Jane Austen’s novels. The house had large pillars that adorned the lower half. There were multiple large windows with beautiful woodworking designs. Lush green vines of ivy wrapped around the pillars. Although the house showed signs of great age, there were many modern modifications that had been made to the exterior. Suddenly, Sherlock appeared right beside her. 

“Your mouth is a gape.” He pointed out. Y/N quickly closed it and looked up toward Sherlock. His stormy blue eyes met hers. “We’re waiting for you.” He nodded towards where Stanley and John were standing by the entrance to the magnificent building. Sheepishly, Y/N lowered her head. She had completely forgotten they were here for a case and not for sightseeing. Despite how much the woman wanted it to be the prior, she followed Sherlock to where the others were standing. 

Clapping his hands together, Stanley chirped. “Now that everyone is here, shall we go in?” Raising his eyebrows with a big smile, the four of them entered Abbey Grange. 

_______

“I’m very glad that you came, Sherlock.” Beamed Stanley, then catching sight of John and Y/N he continued, “And you too Dr. Watson and Ms. L/N. But if I had it my way, I would have immediately solved this strange case and not required your help at all Sherlock.” Stanley’s heavy steps echoed off the hardwood floors. “I’ve been told that Lady Eustace has come to herself and is ready for an interview.” They passed through a hallway decorated with oil paintings of figures dressed in fancy clothing from all ages of time. “You remember the Lewisham gang of burglars, Sherlock?” asked Stanley. 

The mention of the burglars piqued John’s interest. “What, the three Randalls?” John guessed. 

“What?” mouthed Y/N to John. 

“The father and two sons duo.” John clarified. 

“Exactly,” chirped Stanley. “I believe it’s their work. There is no doubt. They did a job not far from here a few days ago. It makes sense that they would hit another house so soon and so near.”

“Except, they added murder into the mix,” interjected Sherlock. They all stopped to look at Sherlock. “Mr. Eustace is dead?” 

Stanley nodded. “Yes, his head was knocked in with his own poker.”

It was Y/N’s turn to ask something. “Who is Mr. Eustace?”

Stanley brought his hand to his chest and began divulging Eustace’s identity. “Sir Eustace Brankenstall is one of the richest men in Bath. Married to the young and beautiful Mrs. Ada Brakenstall. Don’t know how a man his age married her, but…” Stanley sighed changing the subject. “Poor Mrs. Brakenstall is in the morning room. She seemed half-dead when I first saw her. I think it is best if you interview her and get her account of the facts. Then we can examine the dining room.” Then Stanley came to a stop in front of two large white doors. Placing his large hands on the door he opened them to reveal the morning room. 

Inside there sat two women. One younger-looking woman in her early twenties sat in the arms of an elder-looking woman. The younger woman’s face was slightly red and puffy. On her head, there was a large purple bruise. She wore a pink form-fitted dress that flowed out at the bottom. The elder woman holding her caressed the younger woman’s loose blonde curly hair. She wore a dark black stiff suit, and her pepper gray hair was pulled back in a tight bun. The two women sat on a dark green velvet couch. Sherlock, John, and Y/N sat down on the couch in front of the women. 

A sob came out of the blonde’s mouth. She had an Australian accent; not typical of a lady her status. “I have told you everything that happened, Mr. Hopkins. Can’t you repeat it for me?” She looked up at the detective with her baby-blue eyes. 

Stanley gently approached the woman. “Mrs. Brakenstall,” she shuttered. “Mr. Holmes, Dr. Watson, and Ms. L/N are all here to help me solve this case. It is necessary that you tell them what has occurred.” 

“Have they been in the dining room yet?” She asked. 

“I thought that they better hear your story first.” Notified Stanley. 

“I can’t believe he’s still lying there!” cried Ada as she buried her face in her hands. As she did, the sleeve of her dress fell from her forearms. 

Y/N exclaimed as she took notice of the multiple different coloured bruises, “Miss, what happened?” 

Ada took in a shaking breath. “It’s nothing.” Her eyes cast down. “It has no connection with the murder.” 

“Mrs. Brakenstall,” Sherlock requested. “If you could please tell us about the events that occurred.”

Y/N pulled her phone from her pocket and opened the notes app. The elder woman’s grip on Ada got tighter as she began to relay the story. “I am Ada Brakenstall. I have been Mr. Brakenstall’s wife for about a year. I suppose it is no use to hide the fact that our marriage was not a happy one. Anyone could see.” Ada brushed some of her curly golden hair from her face revealing more bruises on her face, except these were a yellowish tint. “I grew up in Australia. My mother and I lived in a caravan home, so this fancy English life doesn’t make sense to me.” She slightly chuckled. “Back my marriage. Eustace was an alcoholic. To be in his presence for an hour was just unpleasant.” Her gaze fixated on Y/N, who was busy typing the information into her phone. “Can you imagine a lively, sensitive, loving, young woman being tied to an abusive drunk for the rest of her life?” She instantly sat up, her cheeks flushed and eyes blazing from underneath her bandaged brow. Then the elderly woman brought a hand to Ada’s head and lead it back onto her shoulder. A sob broke out from Ada. After a while, she continued. 

“I will tell you what happened last night. As you probably already know, this house has servants. They take care of the house and grounds and sleep in the modern wing. I live in this block of the house. There are the guest rooms, the kitchen, and Theresa’s room. Theresa, my maid, sleeps above my room. There is no one else and no sound would ever reach those in the farther wing. This must have been known by the robbers.” 

“Eustace went to bed around 10.30. The servants had gone to bed as well. Theresa was awake in the room above mine. I was in here entranced by a book. After realizing the time, I began to do rounds closing and locking up the house. Since Eustace could never be in his drunken state. I closed the drawing room, the kitchens, and the gun room, and finally, I came to the dining room. I was approaching one of the windows to lock them when a man snuck behind me and grabbed my wrist. Upon seeing more men in the room, I opened my mouth to scream, but then he struck me with his fist, and I fell to the ground. I must have fallen unconscious because when I came to myself, I found that the men had torn down the bell rope in the room that would call the servants and had used it to tie me to one of the dining room chairs. There was a handkerchief wrapped around my mouth to prevent me from calling for help.” Ada quickly stifled a sob. 

“Then Eustace, my husband, entered the room. He must have heard some suspicious sounds and came with a poker in his hand. He rushed at the burglars, but the elder of them grabbed the poker from his hand and…,” She shuttered. “He took the poker and struck Eustace. I heard him fall and groan in pain. Then silence. I lost consciousness once more. When I woke up again, I saw that all the silver from the sideboard was gone and that a bottle of wine had been opened and there stood three glasses on the table. I think the three men might have had a drink before escaping the scene. Eventually, I was able to get the gag out of my mouth and I called for help. Once Theresa and the staff had arrived, we called the police.” She paused collecting herself and wiping some stray tears from her face. “That is all I remember.” 

Sherlock brought his hands together to rest under his chin and his left leg lifted to rest on his right. “I would like to hear about your experience, Theresa.” Requested Sherlock. 

Theresa sat straighter as her fierce green eyes met Sherlock. “I saw the men before they ever entered the house.” This intrigued Sherlock and he leaned closer to the woman. “I sat by my bedroom window and saw three men in the moonlight down by the gate. I thought nothing of it at the time. But then an hour later, I heard Ada scream, and I ran down to find her tied up. I saw Mr. Brakenstall’s brains and blood splattered around the room.” Theresa instantly stood up; an arm still wrapped around Ada. “I think you’ve interrogated Ada long enough. She needs rest after what she has been through.” 

Without another word, Theresa stood Ada up and in a motherly tenderness led her out of the room. 

John glanced over at Sherlock and recognized the expression on his friend’s face: boredom. Luckily, they still had the crime scene to investigate. John looked toward Stanley and asked, “Can we see the crime scene now?” 

Stanley nodded and motioned for the three of them to follow. They then came to another set of doors that lead to the dining room. 

It was a very large room with a high ceiling. The ceiling was made of carved oak. On the wall, there were deer heads and weapons paneling the walls. The other wall had many windows. On the left of the room, there stood a large, deep fireplace with a thick oak mantlepiece. In the middle of the room, there was a long dining table. There was a chair pulled out of place with a cord wrapped around it. The knots on the rope remained. In front of the fireplace, there lay a tiger skin. But what lay on the tiger's skin caused a pause in Y/N’s breath. 

It was a body of a tall, well-built man, in his late fifties. He was laying on his back, his mouth agape between his large peppery beard. He was still wearing his nightwear. What drew the eyes of the three, was the man’s head. It was horribly injured and bloody. Next to his head lay the heavy metal poker, bent perfectly to fit the deceased’s head. Sherlock closely examined the body and the weapon. 

Peering up at John, Sherlock asked, “John, how much strength do you estimate it would take to bend the poker upon impact?”

“I don’t know, Sherlock. I bet it’s a lot.”

Nodding Sherlock then inquired of Y/N. “You took notes.”

“That’s right,” she replied. 

“Who did Ada say stuck Mr.Brakenstall?”

Looking through her notes, she quickly found the answer. “The…the elder of the three burglars.” 

John scoffed. “I doubt anyone over the age of 40 could pull that off.”

Sherlock’s eyes widened and then Immediately stood up. “Stanley, the elder Randell man, he must be quite strong.”

“Yes,” said Hopkins. “According to our police record and the record of others, he seems to be quite the rough fellow.”

“What are your thoughts, Stanley?” Probed Sherlock. 

Straightening his tie, Stanley revealed his idea of the case. “We have been on the lookout for him. There was a rumor that they had plans to flee to America, so we sent the news to every airport. I don’t see how they can escape us now. It’s just…” 

“Just what?” Asked Sherlock.

“Just how they could have gone and robbed Abbey Grange. Let alone left Mrs. Brakenstall live. They must have known she would have been able to give a description if she survived.”

“You’re saying that they should have killed her?” Repeated Y/N. 

“Exactly,” confirmed Sherlock.” One would expect them to silence her.”

John chimed in, “Maybe they didn’t realize.” They all looked toward him. “She was unconscious for most of the events. They might not have noticed her re-awaken.”

Taking in the information, Sherlock's eyes dazed off as if they were in a separate reality. “Hopkins. Tell me more about Mr. Eustace Brakenstall.” 

“He was a good man when he wasn’t drunk or half-drunk. He seemed to almost always be half-drunk. Some people say that the devil resided in him and that he could be capable of anything. In spite of his status and wealth, he almost came to stay with us a few times.” Sherlock then started to peruse around the room. “One such time was when he poured gasoline on the lady’s dog and set it afire, but it was quickly hushed and forgotten about.” 

“He what?!” gasped Y/N. “That’s just…”

Something in the corner of John’s eye caught his attention. “Sherlock, what are you doing?” 

Sherlock was on all fours peering closely at the rope wrapped around the chair. He observed every knot along the red cord. Then he brought his attention to the frayed end of the cord where it had been cut to trap Ada. 

“When the cord was pulled down, the bell in the kitchen must have rung loudly.” Stated Sherlock. 

“No one could hear it,” respond Stanley. “The kitchen is at the back of the house.”

Y/N furred her brows. “Then how did the burglars know that no one would hear it?”

“Exactly, Ms. L/N,” Stanley exclaimed. “That is the question I keep asking myself. There is no doubt that the Randalls must have known Abbey Grange and its habits. Knowing when all the servants would be in bed and that no one would hear the bell if rung. I think he must have been in close contact with one of the servants. But all eight servants have solid alibis and are good people.”

“Randall being as well-known as he is, wouldn’t have much trouble finding help,” Sherlock noted. 

“Well, Ada’s alibi is completely corroborated by the crime scene, so she can’t have been lying. Right?” Questioned Y/N. 

Sherlock made his way to the open window and glanced outside. “What did they take, Stanley?” Sherlock inquired. 

“They didn’t take much–only have a dozen silver plates and silverware. The Lady thought they were too disturbed by Eustace that they did not ransack the house like they usually do.”

“Well, that’s quite obvious, yet they drank wine,” commented Sherlock. He pulled out a set of latex gloves and placed them on his hands before picking up the wine glasses and bottle that were placed on the dining table. 

“What? To steady their nerves?” scoffed John. 

Turning around, Sherlock confirmed John’s statement. “Exactly. As you can see the three glasses are grouped together. Each was tinted with wine as if each of the burglars had drunk some. One of the glasses contains dregs and beeswing and the bottle is about…” He gave the bottle a swirl. “Two-thirds full.” Then Sherlock brought the bottle close and observed the dust covering the bottle. “The burglars indulge themselves in some vintage wine, that was made in the 1870s.” A change of expression came over Sherlock’s features. He no longer had his listless expression, but the light of interest was still alight within his icy blue eyes. Then he proceeded to pick up the cork and examined it. “The bottle was opened by a pocket screw, one that probably contains a knife, and it was not more than an inch and a half long. It took them three tries before the cork was extracted. I’m sure when you find the Randalls, that you will find a pocket knife fitting this description.” Then Sherlock gently placed the cork back down. 

Y/N’s eyes widened. Sherlock could tell all that from cork. The praise from John and her aunt about Sherlock’s ability was beginning to make sense. 

Stanley clapped his hands together. “I never get tired of that, Sherlock.” 

“Ada said she saw the men drinking, did she not?” inquired Sherlock. 

“Umm…” finding the answer within her notes, Y/N clarified. “Yes.”

“Right.” Stated Sherlock. With a snap, the latex gloves were removed and disposed of. Sherlock walked towards Stanley, placing a hand on his shoulder. “ Well, good morning, Hopkins. I don’t see that I can be of any use to you. 

John’s mouth hung agape as processed what Sherlock had just said. “That’s it?”

“Yes, John. Stanley appears to have this case all under control. Let me know when the Randalls are arrested, Stanley. Come, John, Y/N. It is time for us to return home.” 

“Right then, let me have one of my officers drop you all off.” After a pause, Stanley continued, “It was nice seeing you again Sherlock.” 

John looked over at Y/N and she shrugged in response. After saying goodbyes to Stanley, the two shuffled towards Sherlock.  Then the three of them left the room, meeting up with the officer who would take them back to the station–back to 221B Baker Street. 

__________________________________________________________

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Thank you all for being patient with me and this posting of this chapter! I hope you all have a great week and I’ll see you next week for another chapter.  

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[makriiii]

Caught VI (Arthur Morgan × f!reader)

Word count: 4.3k

Authors notes: I'm running out of things to say

Warnings: 18+, angst, cursing, gun violence.

Ao3 or wattpad!

@thatlittlered !:)

Caught VI

Dutch's camp was vibrant with life, a smile cracked at your lips all while you heard Uncle tell stories of old around the crackling campfire to anyone who would sit and listen.

They were absurd from the bits you heard, which was the reason for your smile.

You were starting to feel less of an outcast, and more like how it felt to ride with a gang again. Though everyone here acted more like a family. The O'Driscolls? not so much.

Pearson was making something, the what, you couldn't quite distinguish, but everyone was amped for it.

It'd been a long day, and messing around with Arthur just a few hours previous made it even longer.

He was across camp from you, even through most of the darkness that shrouded camp, you could see him glaring at you every so often.

There wasn't much he'd do to you in camp, which was why you ran straight here. Perhaps like a yellow belly, perhaps not. Either way you didn't care.

The few dollars you had in your pocket from raiding a cabin out in the middle of nowhere sat idly in your pocket until you funneled them into the camp's money box, shutting it once you laid them to rest.

"Y/n." Dutch, of all people, greets with a friendly nod.

You felt your stomach get all twisty, the same feeling you got when you stumbled upon a drunk Colm.

Nodding back without hesitation, the rest of your body stock-still. You couldn't be sure of what he wanted.

"Is there something you need?" You ask politely, your lips thinning together when you thought of the measly 5 stray bucks you just donated.

"Why, no not particularly- in this moment." He had a way of making his words penetrate deeply, maybe soothing to someone not an O'Driscoll.

"You know, I don't actually think I complimented you on that stunt you managed."

You keep your eyes trained on him, his cigar fresh in his mouth before he blows it out not far from your nose.

"It was impressive, kid. I think you got potential. You just had your efforts in the... wrong place." He stood only feet away from you with his hand on his hip.

Cocking your head as to question where he was going with this, hoping it wasn't something crazy like the train robbery again.

You knew better this time.

"Thank you, Dutch, but I don't have a cravin' for another bullet. Right now at least." You decline with a half joke, the stinging pain in your arm still fresh in memory.

"Oh, no, no! Of course not. I can only imagine how that bullet felt." He chortles, sliding right up next to you, his arm around your neck, effectively making you walk with him.

He takes another draw of his cigar, then waved his arm once around to showcase the camp in front of you. "I've seen the donations you've been making. I can see you are willing to help."

The smoke of his cigar filled your lungs with each pause he took, keeping you in suspense. He kept you walking slowly through camp to see everyone of its members.

"See now, we're not always making the best money, and we need money to keep this camp functioning." His voice sounded softer with each of the sentences he pressed into you.

"You wouldn't be doing it alone, not at all. I just feel..." He circles his hand to help the words roll out. "We need it to go well, and I can tell you handle yourself more than well."

Your shoulders were taught and tense holding up his arm that felt like a stone around you.

"I mean, what is it? Nothing too wild, I hope. Retirement was on my mind after I got gunned down by your favorite crony."

He lightly hunched over with a hearty laugh for a moment, half bringing you down with him before he finally released his hold on you.

"Oh, come now. You both on the mission would do just fine. And even though it's not been long since you were an O'Driscoll, you seem to have heart in this camp."

Maybe that was true. You did have heart in this camp. And maybe had the circumstances been different, you and Arthur might've gotten along. But he shot you, and he was to pay for that. Plus, he straight up grated on your nerves.

He examined your partially amused face, sensing your remaining skepticism.

"It's not too big a undertaking, I'm sure Arthur can give you the details." You didn't want Arthur to give you the details. "Now, listen, I'm not asking you to forget, but forgive, just for now."

He patted your back, giving another small chuckle, thinking back on your joke, traipsing happily back to his tent.

He knew he convinced you full well.

Dutch didn't catch the memo, clearly. Being so drunk you could hardly tell Arthur apart from a cow was the only time you could 'forgive' him.

Typically, you didn't hold grudges. You'd do away with them before you felt the need, but you couldn't do that with Arthur. Having two gangs on your ass was above your participation level.

Standing where Dutch left you, you zoned out as you contemplated and fully came to terms with your desire to please him. Simply, suck it up with the whole Arthur thing.

Alright. You shook yourself out of your small daze, dawning a face sure to piss off your dearest Arthur.

He wasn't staring so hard now. In Fact, he didn't even notice you approaching, until he gazed back up to give you his routine glare.

His blue eyes caught the firelight just right, amplifying his irritability it seemed.

You walked around his back, giving it a 'friendly pat' which you hoped would leave a mark.

"You act like someone is going to keep me from matchin' your right arm to your left." He growls under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear over the cheers and rambunctious conversations from around the camp.

"Oh, I'll be fine to do that myself. You bested me once, you know. Once. Makin' me regret saving your annoying ass."

You made sure to lean in real close so he heard your words right in his ear.

"Is there a reason you decided to bother me? Throwing my pants into the water wasn't enough?"

"If you stopped yapping for a second, I'd tell you why I came over."

He gave you a look that no doubt signaled to get it over with, and you were happy to oblige, seeing as he wasn't debating further.

"I'm sure you'll be delighted to hear I'm tagging along with you on your latest trip."

He rested his face in his palm. He was both unbelieving and entirely uninterested.

You shared his look, to mock him, but also because you weren't hyped for it either.

"Alright. Give me a hour's head start so you stay well out of ear shot. Sight too."

That sounded like a solution, if he was the one waiting. There was very little incentive for you to go in the first place. You didn't know the full extent, not even the extent. Nothing.

"Nah, you can put up with me for a while. I'm not even being that bad right now."

"So you'd say. It's Right now. No telling what'll leave your mouth tomorrow. " You always got the most passionate scoffs from him. "What else is it?"

You lay your feet out straight, leaning back with your arms propping you up. Mainly to show him you weren't going anywhere yet. Much like he had back at the creek.

"You're supposed to tell me what the take is."

He shakes his head with such vitriol, you'd think he had just been asked his hand in marriage from you. "It gets to be a surprise for you, O'Driscoll. See just how well you can do."

A deep groan rolls out of you, tilting your head back slowly to get a good look at the stars.

The same stars that had calmed you whilst you rode with near perfect victory up in the grizzlies.

"So dreadfully sorry your pants took a dip, Arthur, really. The kind little lady over here would like to know just what she's getting into though." Pleading sarcastically wasn't something you'd done since childhood.

Never a need for it until this man came round.

Now he crowed hoarsely, you could tell he didn't quite mean to, but he did. "'Kind little lady'." He quoted, the more he went on, the more you got irritated.

"Just tell me. I ain't for begging." Your fists dug into the wood under you.

"I am. So beg, O'Driscoll. Maybe then you'll get somewhere." His eyes beat into you with sincerity. Of course he'd say that.

Your trigger finger tingled with every word leaving his smug mouth.

"I beg for no man. Especially not for some low life criminal." Oh, how cheeky it was to say. As another lowlife criminal, you were better in no way.

He raised a brow, a lopsided grin pushed his cheeks up. "Sure, princess. You should go get your beauty sleep before we ride. Let me have peace before I deal with you all day."

You bit back more fight, instead, giving him another 'friendly pat' straight down on his thigh. "Keep your pants near and dear, Arthur. Water never denied anything a soakin'."

He comforted his leg with his hand, much more clemency with the smack than what he cared to show your arm before.

"If you want them off that bad, just ask." There wasn't a flicker of annoyance in his voice anymore- just that cocksure smugness. Both of you knew what really rubbed the other wrong.

Involuntarily, your eye twitched, a spasm made only possible with what that Arthur could conjure.

"Never castrated someone before, but you'd do mighty fine to be my first."

He snorted, seemingly having way too much fun with your back and forth than he planned on. You did too- in some ways. In most ways you also didn't.

-

Just barely north of New Austin now, the ride grueling under the sun, which was setting now. The gold, orange and pink in harmonious layers spanning the skyline before it gave way to night.

Night. Always a good time for robberies.

Along the way, Sean made sure to tell you all about it. He was excited that because he had found out about this, he got to come, and unsuspectingly gave you the details Arthur deliberately kept from you.

Stories and memories from childhood of Robin hood laid in the back of your head.

Take from the rich- and well, you were the second part. The poor. As any outlaw dreams not to be.

The Secord family. They were to be gone for a week. Mr. Secord committing to his role in the oil business, taking his family along for a vacation.

It was the perfect clear cut robbery, and how Sean had found out from some random in town was beyond you.

The oil business. So lucrative for the lucky. And so lucrative for the ones unlucky, as they usually do the robbin' from the fortunate.

"I can see it now." Bill announces, clearly spotted something that you hadn't from his tall mount. "I think we should stop here."

Arthur nods to Sean and you, everyone dismounting and preparing.

"Should be smooth sailing, if there's no hired hands." Arthur assures, checking his ammo.

You hoped it was going to be smooth sailing, having seen a motel an hour back or so. You wanted a half decent bed and your own room after traveling all day.

"Right." Sean cheers, pointing his shotgun up as if he were to fire it, which alarmed you, Bill and Arthur. "I'll fix any of the bastards, have there be any."

Arthur mumbles something under his breath, bringing his hands up to rub his face in exasperation.

You loved having a second person who annoyed Arthur as much as you did. You didn't even have to ask, he just does.

"No funny business." Bill warns Sean with a stern glare. "We do this fast, no need to linger."

Sean rolled his eyes in defiance, repeating Bill's words in a low tone to mock him. A handful, that boy.

The four of you slowly crept up, searching and scanning for any sign of life in or out of the massive house. Upon seeing no one, the tension that kept you all tight-knit slacked into a loose circle.

It was hardly a farm, but it had a decent barn and a shed close to the back of the house.

The place wasn't far from town, and in other words, you prayed you were unlikely to see anyone, or have anyone see you.

It'd be a quick in & out after all.

"Careful. Don't want to wake anyone up." Arthur reasserts, his bandana muffled his voice, but only slightly.

"There really don't seem to be much to wake up, are you seeing things in your old age, Arthur?" Sean chimes, spinning in a 360 to check the validity of his statement, which he should've done before he started up.

A younger man came out from behind the shed, the barrel of his rifle facing you down, which never stayed on one target for long, waving it around at each one of you.

"Stay right there!" He barks, his frame shaky with adrenaline.

Sean stopped in his tracks, squinting his eyes. More discontent with his insult backfiring than the threat at hand.

"Probably you and that loud mouth, Sean." Arthur throws out his elbow at Sean, poking fun at him, although aloof.

Sean scorned with Arthurs jab, replied bitterly. "Shut up, Arthur."

Had you approached this better, maybe you guys could've played it off as debt collectors, or business associates. But the boy was way beyond that point.

"Don't worry, we don't want no trouble... Just your things." Bill's laugh came out evil, his gun cocking under this thumb.

The young man shuffled in panicked and jerking hesitations, unsure of what to do with himself. He could shoot, or he could run.

He too, knew his two options, and chose wisely. Run.

He dropped his gun, finding himself his horse out back, kicking the poor thing to hell, just to get outta of here fast.

"I hope you know sparing him means whoever he tells, won't spare us." Sean grumbles, his hand gripped angrily at his shotgun, scolding Bill.

That was probably true. So Arthur waited no time and pointed him to the barn as if he were a kid in trouble. "Go see if there's anything in that barn, boy. Go on, git."

Sean scoffs, shaking his head, no doubt feeling a certain level of entitlement to do what he desires.

"Ask me to scoop the shit out next, English. Just as likely to do that."

Walking past the obstinate Sean, you brandished your gun and carefully opened the door to the dark and empty house.

It would be hard to see anyone, if there were. As incredulous as you felt, but there really seemed to be no one else of opposition.

You heard Sean and Arthur bicker some more behind you, until finally Sean relented, leaving Arthur to join you inside the house.

There was two whole floors to rummage, and if you had to guess, most of the valuables would be upstairs.

"I'll go upstairs." You call to Arthur, gun still in hand. You'd have to clear the upstairs before you felt comfortable enough to put it away.

Arthur acknowledged you with a small up and down of his head and went about searching the other downstairs rooms.

The whole second floor was just as magnificent as the first. It took next to no thought to know where these folk stood financially.

Paintings of all sorts plastered the walls, their details dimmed by the dark in the house. Perfectly clean furniture sat with fancy decorum on top and intricate wallpaper designs in the backdrop.

You knew there had to be good money somewhere with these telling signs.

Firstly, you checked the rooms, passing through what seemed to be two littles girls' rooms with nothing of interest before you found where you could hit gold.

The master bedroom.

It overlooked the barn and shed, which you saw Sean rumbling through.

Atop the nightstand was a small jewelry box, heavy with some sort of metals which you didn't care to scour around in now.

You removed the few paintings off their places in the room, but nothing sat behind them as you hoped.

Pacing the room, your boots hit nothing but dense floorboards.

Until A hollow board groaned under the preassure of your heel, quick to give its position away. The sound filled you with glee, removing any skepticism that there wasn't anything left in here.

You kneeled down, knife in hand, eager to pry.

It came open without much resistance, cobwebs and dust met your expectant hand.

Before you could even fully reach into the dingy little floor cavity, a shot rang out.

Your entire body jerked upright, Charles' borrowed shotgun hollering to you from it's spot on your back.

From the window, you could see five or six men who funneled into the barn from the behind.

Shouting and yelling was indistinguishable from the window.

"We got company!" Sean manages to outdo the rest of the noise, bolting from the barn to cover behind a tree.

You couldn't tell if Arthur and Bill had started shooting yet, but you sure as hell were.

Taking a few deep breaths to calm your nerves, you hit one poor sucker who stuck too far out of the barn.

When the men stopped popping out from the cover of the barn, you turned and sprang downstairs.

There were multiple holes in the house's downstairs wall, you knew it wasn't good cover.

By the time you peeked around outside, your heart was pounding with adrenaline.

Flames bursted from the back of the barn.

"What the hell? Who lit the barn on fire?" Bill retreats from the shed, running up to the front of the porch.

The last few of the men weren't in there anymore, leaving behind a burning barn instead. Perhaps thats why they ran.

Sean started back into the barn, waving you guys over too. Why on earth would he go back in there? And even more insane, encourage you to follow?

He let out a horse, who legged it straight out with fear, letting out a cry to the others in the barn.

Now you understood, not wasting another second to help Sean.

"Arthur, there's something upstairs in the floorboards." You call to him from behind, sprinting over to aid Sean in the growing inferno.

The fire ate at the back half of the barn, flames leaving charred wood with each moment passed. Moments you couldn't waste.

Horses whinnied and cried out with the smoldering beams that fell closer and closer to them with the heat.

The sweat on Sean's panicked face glistened against the glare of the bright orange and red, unrelentling in its path.

The latches on the stall were easy enough to undo, but the frightened beasts inside weren't always so willing to go right out. Which had you going in to scare them out.

Smoke congregated in its area inside the barn, getting ever so worse.

You pulled up your bandana to help with some of the smoke, but your teary eyes didn't get the same grace, burning incessantly.

There were four stalls on each side, with every furthering one, you realized you should've started in the back.

Releasing each horse didn't take much time, but neither did the fire in its travel. Near greeting you right where you stood now.

The final stall held a mare and foal, flames licked ever closer to them.

You coughed and coughed, shooing them out before something you couldn't save them from transpired.

Sean was already out of the barn, in front with Arthur and Bill, who waved at you desperately.

The final stretch of the barn aisle just in front of you started filling with small smoldering embers and wood that dropped from above. Covering the three bodies that laid at the entrance.

A petrifying crack rang through you, the sound collapsing an entire loft down in the way of your only escape.

You didn't even know what to say, much less do. You didn't think saving horses was as stupid as a solo train robbery. But here you were, again, life on the line.

It was blurry with the tears and smoke that filled your vision. Squinting your eyes and swivelling your head in every direction.

With your hopes dimming, you noticed one last chance.

Smoke escaping out the the stall windows.

Just big enough for a horse's head to peek out was difficult to get through, not to mention pull yourself up and out through.

The coughing unforgiving and your ability to breathe deteriorating made asphyxiation a undeniable possibility.

"I'm comin'." Arthur calls, a loud thump at the wall caused you to back away.

He must've seen you flailing your arms out of the gap, but not much relief came from it.

Every hit weakened the wood. Weakened, not broke.

The heat grew, every inch of the barn feeding the fire closer to where you stood backed up completely to the corner.

Flames bit close to your feet, the stall bedding perfect fuel.

Finally someone's leg broke through the wall, followed by your arm being yanked so hard you reckoned it would come out the socket.

The smoke that filled your lungs cleared slowly as you heaved in breaths, being dragged away from the immediate danger.

"You crazy bastards." Arthur chuckles, a twinge of relieved concern in his laugh. "Are you okay?"

Your throat ran up and down with pain, each dry cough hurt adding to it. "Yeah." You confirmed with a hoarse whisper.

"Nearly flew with the angels, O'Driscoll!" Sean crows in between coughs, hunching over to catch his breath.

"Tell me about it." You couldn't help but snicker at these fools for laughing after you nearly got cooked.

Bill stood over you as well, his laugh matched the others. "I like this one, Arthur."

You laid sprawled in a starfish position, shutting your eyes to soothe the burning. Your chest shaking with the chuckles that left more as a cough than anything, but amusement nonetheless.

"Yeah?" Arthur was about to start again, you could already tell. Warn Bill of an issue you'd only give him. "Wait till you're the subject of her carping."

"No. That's your problem." Bill was quick to dismiss himself from any of that responsibility.

"Unfortunately." Arthur sighs, but not with his usual contempt. Not even a trace.

"I think we should get outta here though. Who knows where those men ran off to." Bill reminds from the side of you, which had you in favour.

You nodded, wiping away the tears at your eyes while you sat on the dirt, recollecting yourself. With your body cooling, you surprisingly didn't feel many burns, just a few on your knuckles.

"Yeah, they ran cuz they saw me." Sean jokes, puffing himself out after all that hacking.

"Oh sure. A scrawny little red head is enough to scare off the best of them." Bill gives Sean a few hearty slaps, pushing him in the direction of the horses.

"Now if I remember correctly, you were the one runnin'." Arthur was quick to point out Seans bull, which made made you stifle a giggle. Anymore of it and you'd have no throat left.

Arthur hooked his arm in yours, pulling you up and to your surprise, kept it there. Turning you away from the fire and helping you towards your horses.

"We're even now, y/n." Arthur was sure to mention, whether it was the right time or not, he didn't care. "Twice, I've saved you, but apparently the first time don't count."

You gave him a slap to his torso from your half bent over position for his teasing in this moment. "Damn right it didn't."

Once you lot reached the horses, you were about to get on, but Arthur stopped you.

He pulled out your hands, inspecting them for just a second. He didn't linger, not wanting to give you the wrong idea.

Arthur gently lifts you up by the waist, just this time, you didn't deny his assistance so vehemently. He untied the reins and handed them to you, making you thank him with a choked murmur.

"I was stuck in that fire too, Arthur." Sean demonstrates by coughing more. "Why aren't you lifting me up into my saddle as well?"

Arthur had a good laugh on that, mostly by the absurdity of it. "You'd have to be within an inch of your life for me to put you in your saddle, boy."

"Oh, you're the most considerate man I've met, Arthur, really." Sean quips, spurring his horse back in the direction you all came.

Arthur hums his sarcastic agreement, mounting his horse and following along with the rest of your group.

"Did you get whatever it was upstairs, the jewelry box too?" You ask Arthur as he speeds up next to you.

"I did." He assures patting his satchel. "Good thing you didn't end up taking it too, else the two thousand dollars might've caught fire."

You could feel Bill and Sean all turn their heads in awe. You none the better, jaw dropped.

"I told you, Arthur!" Sean whooped and hollered from atop his horse, waving his arms in victory. "Aren't you glad you listened to the young whippersnapper Sean now?"

Arthur's face split with the happiest grin you done ever saw on it, and you couldn't help but smile because of it too. It was contagious and not something you thought you'd catch.

"Just this once." Bill in as jovial mood as ever, no one at all bothered by the shootout or the burning building anymore. Just the thought of two thousand dollars pocketed.

You turned your head back to look at the amass of flames. The barren and barely standing silhouette of the barn crumbling to its foundation.

You hoped it wouldn't spread to the house. You could only imagine how terrible it'd be to come back to your horses loose and your barn burned. And it wasn't even your group that had set it ablaze.

Alas, 2k was likely a small amount to Mr. Secord, and with that, you didn't dwell on it. Instead, celebrating with the split money, joking and coughing with your little band of outlaws by your side.

---

Ofc you'd get stuck in the burning building, It's for the non existent plot line🧍‍♂️

[curse-04]

Written for @hinnyfest

Prompt 6: "You are speaking about my future Hisband/Wife. Be more respectful."

A/N: Remember that After the War Fic I talked about in Prompt 1? Yeah, this one's from that too. Again, it's not based on the prompt entirely, but it does fit the requirements.

It's an AU though, so keep that in mind while reading this.

-------

It was over.

After three years of hard work, duels, sleepless nights, and a lot of travelling, it was finally over. All the Death Eaters had been caught, Sebastian Greengrass being the last of them.

Harry and Ginny could finally be free now. She was free to pursue her career as a Quidditch player in the Holyhead Harpies, well, she would have to apply, try out, and then get selected first, but really, anyone would have to have been dropped on the head as a baby to not choose her.

He would be comfortable as a Professor, he thought. Being an Auror wasn't for those who wanted to start a family. Maybe he could have done well as a Hit Wizard, dealing with low level murders and robberies, but being an Auror wasn't for him anymore. He'd had his share of Dark Wizards thank you very much.

"You've got the resignation papers?" Ginny asked.

"Yes," Harry said absently, double checking to see if they had missed anything.

"I'll miss this," Ginny said, sighing. "Us working together."

"Yeah," Harry said. He'd miss it too, there was a different charm in working with her as he'd come to find out over the past few years. She'd been offered the Charms position at Hogwarts, but she wanted to be a Quidditch player, and as amazing as it would be to keep working with her, he would rather she fulfill her dreams first.

"I might take the Charms post if I don't make it," Ginny said, hugging him from behind.

"You'll make it," he said, turning around in her arms. "I'll train with you if you want."

She smiled into his chest. "You, my love, are a shit keeper," she pointed out.

"I am a decent Chaser, though," he said, not bothering to argue with her point. Even a baby could score a goal if Harry was the Keeper.

"True," she acknowledged. "Maybe we can kidnap Ron and make him practise Keeper with us."

He laughed. "Why do you always insist on kidnapping him instead of just asking?"

"He's my brother," she said, as though that explained everything. "Why else do you think?"

He just shook his head. Ron and Ginny's relationship wasn't something he'd understand anytime soon. One minute they were at each other's throats, the other saw them laughing like they were the closest siblings to have ever been born.

"Guess we should go," she said, letting him go.

"Yep," he replied, getting ready to stand up.

Just then, the door opened, and their boss, or rather, their ex-boss, walked in. "Potter, Weasley," Robards said. "I have a mission for you. Briefing is at five."

"Actually, we're quitting," Harry said, eager to get this over with. Really, if this wasn't a sign from Magic itself that they should quit, he didn't know what was.

"Sorry?" Robards asked, blinking.

"We're quitting," Ginny repeated. "We already told you, once the Death Eaters are caught, we're moving on to other things."

"Like what?" Robards asked, furrowing his brow.

"Gin's trying out for the Harpies, and I'm going to be the Defence Professor at Hogwarts," Harry replied stiffly.

Robards barked an incredulous laugh. "You're telling me that you're going to become a jock," he said, pointing at Ginny. "And you want to be a washed up Professor?" He asked, pointing at Harry.

"Careful there," Ginny said, an edge to her tone that sent shivers down even his spine. "You are speaking about my future husband. Be more respectful."

"Of course," Robards said mockingly, holding his hands up in defence. "I don't know what came over me. Have your letters at my desk before long. Honestly, it's a shame you're leaving, you could have been the best."

"Maybe," Harry said.

"But we wouldn't have been happy, that's for sure," Ginny continued.

"And what's the point of living if you aren't?" Harry asked rhetorically, handing Robards the papers as the man left.

"The nerve of him!" Ginny raged a moment after he left. Harry had already made sure to put up a good Silencing Charm.

"Thanks for that, by the way," Harry replied with a smile, while also trying to distract her from thoughts of Robards.

"For what?" She asked.

"The 'be more respectful' part," he said, smiling wider as Ginny blushed.

"It wasn't that much," she protested with an embarrassed laugh.

"It was to me," Harry said, placing his arms around her waist.

Ginny bit her lip. "Well, I know a way you can repay me," she said, placing her arms around his shoulders with a grin on her face.

"Oh?" He asked, leaning down with parted lips.

"Mhm," she said, kissing him and moving to whisper in his ear. "You can make me a chocolate cake when we get home."

With that, she pulled back and made her way out of the office- probably to say goodbye to the others like they'd planned before- as Harry just gaped after her with a smile. He caught up with her shortly after she left.

"Witch," he muttered, throwing an arm around her shoulders as she smiled.

"You're about to be married, love," she said, tutting at him disapprovingly. "Whatever would your wife think?"

"Oh she'd encourage this, I'm sure," he replied, shaking his head in amusement as she laughed.

Harry was suddenly struck with the thought that this was his life now- this banter with Ginny, Sunday Dinners at the Burrow after a Quidditch Game, Teddy… it was all his life, not someone else's like it felt to him all those years ago, and he couldn't help but pull her a little closer to him.

"Alright, love?" She asked as they were about to enter the Auror Headquarters.

He kissed the top of her head. "Never been better, Gin," he said, smiling at her. "Never been better."

[hismercytomyjustice]

Ha. Haha. Hahaha.

The most difficult internal team the team I’m on has to work with just let us all know they aren’t just about to kick the hornet’s nest, they’re about to rip it to fucking shreds.

Just spraying gasoline all over an ever burning fire…

K i l l. M e.

At what point can I sue for emotional damages? Because if I’m not there already, I definitely will be.

I don’t wanna get yelled at by all our external customers on their behalf. (≖͞_≖̥)

Thank god I’m remote at least. Getting yelled at virtually is much preferable to when I used to get yelled at in person. They can just scream into the void of my voicemail instead of at my face! Yay!

My favorite godawful customer was (not mine but a coworker’s) who fucking hated showing his ID for withdrawals at the bank (of course EVERYONE fucking hated showing their ID). And he just went off with “This bank changes tellers like I change underwear!”

Like, what an absolutely wild thing to yell in public as a grown ass man.

I’m still upset I missed witnessing the time a customer lost their mind to the point our other customers started heckling them, one apparently yelling, “Go to BB&T!” I wouldn’t want to subject BB&T to their nonsense, but appreciated the sentiment nonetheless. Apparently it got so heated the manager, who’s office was the opposite end of our enormous lobby, heard the altercation and came out to see wtf was going on.

My favorite (unfortunately mine) was the lady who lost her fucking mind in the drive thru when I asked for her ID.

“I’ve been coming to this bank for twenty years blah blah blah!” To the point my manager had to step in.

AND THEN. I was working inside the branch proper the next day and the same lady came inside and I had to help her and she was venting to me about the interaction she had with me the day before. And she didn’t even realize it!

Lemme tell ya didn’t need to ID her after that. DEFINITELY recognized her due to her display of her “big feelings” the day before.

Other fun times at the bank! Having to do a training module on what to do if your manager was kidnapped and held for ransom. At the time, I would have been sorely tempted to tell them to keep her and would’ve thanked them for doing me a favor. d( > _・ )

Oh and the time the fucking bank caught on fire. I only ever heard one robbery story from our trainer, but everyone had a fire story. Ours was an electrical fire. I heard about a coat closet fire and a drive thru tube fire too.

They didn’t even tell us our bank caught on fire. I showed up for my shift, saw the building was surrounded by fire trucks, and got sent to the other branch in the same goddamn parking lot to work instead. Yes, there was another branch IN THE SAME PARKING LOT.

“But why are you all struggling to hit your sales goals?” *gestures wildly in the other branch’s direction* (┛◉Д◉)┛彡┻━┻

Then there’s the time a lady came through the drive thru and sent some cash through and asked what she should do because she was sure there was blood on it. It was definitely just jam or something lol.

Fun! Not fun? Fact, there is an actual process for that type of thing that’s handled outside of the branch, apparently.

And then there’s the time one of my coworkers stole from her own drawer and tried to pass it off like she fucked up a transaction. She was apparently not a very good actress and they were onto her immediately. Management kept saying “oh, because it’s this amount there’s going to be further consequences” and she kept magically finding more obviously folded up bills to get her to a lower threshold so she’d be in “less trouble”. And then she threatened to sue the bank when they told her she was going to be investigated for theft. ꉂ (´∀｀)ʱªʱªʱª

I’m sorry, but if you’re gonna do something so painfully stupid like steal from your own drawer, maybe do a better fucking job???

We had a lot of very sweet regulars, though. Mostly older folks you could tell were a little lonely. Part of me misses getting to help try to brighten their day. But most of me would rather drink bleach than have to physically deal with the general public in a customer service role again.

Yeah, I’m still kind of in customer service, almost more like technical/operational support, helping people navigate our batshit and wildly confusing ancient and absurdly manual systems and processes. But it’s B2B and most people, when representing their employer, manage to keep their crazy dialed down to like, a 6/7 out of 10 instead of a 20 out of 10.

We really should get to hunt one godawful customer for sport once a year to keep them in all in line… Or bare minimum charge them an additional fee for harassing the staff that the employee in question gets to keep.

[wispynador]

Wild West Side Quest #1

We Were Caught Before the Train Robbery Even Started

The first d&d session merging our current party with another party of new friends was a hit!

This one shot took place on the continent of Granthell, a Wild West world of six shooters and outlaws with all the magic and monster trimmings of d&d. We had myself and two players from of our underdome campaign joined by three players from among our new friends, for a five player party of outlaws. (We decided to play an evil alignment one shot).

Among the PCs were Rango: a Dragonborn monk. Maw: a Dragonborn ranger. Verven: a human Druid. Sammy: a tabaxi rogue/bard multiclass. Richard: a human artifacer.

The story begins with each of our five characters wandering into Moridelt Pass, a small town perched on the precipice between a canyon that cuts through the mountains and an unforgiving desert. They’re all brought here by the same thing. Each has received a note from the most notorious outlaw on Granthell, Kate Barloux (yes, that’s stolen straight from Holes). The notes all ask the the party members to meet behind the saloon at midnight, so when they begin to wander into town around noon they’re left with time to get into trouble before the meet.

Sammy, the rogue/bard, rolls into town on a cart pulled by a mule and sets up shop as a con artist, selling people dirty water and calling it their “miracle cure all”.

Maw, one of our Dragonborns, passes by the cart and considers buying the act before paying a visit to the general store instead.

Rango, the other Dragonborn, heads straight for the saloon. They try to find Barloux before the meet even starts, but nothing pans out.

Verven, the Druid, decides to wait out the day behind the saloon, posting up and looking out for any sign of Barloux. Pretty soon the Druid is joined by Richard, a 66 year old man with hearing problems and shotgun. Verven sizes him up and decides the old man isn’t much of a threat as he takes a seat behind the saloon and lights up a tobacco pipe.

As the sun begins to set the outlaw herself, Kate Barloux rides into town. She briefly stops by Sammy’s “cure all” stand, and manages to get suckered into the bit by the rogue/bard’s ridiculous charisma bonuses (literally couldn’t roll less than a 20 the whole game due to a min/max build that I’ll be sharing with y’all eventually). Barloux stables her mule for the evening and heads for the back of the saloon, where everyone then accumulates for the meet.

Barloux’s offer is simple: a specific adamantine chest, stolen from the possession of a specific political figure, who’s riding a specific train, which stops at the train station in Moridelt at noon the next day. She wants the chest returned to her unopened and will pay each party member 1000 gold when it’s handed over. Anything else on the train they wanna take is theirs. She tells them to meet her at midnight behind the saloon in Reidolyn, the train’s next stop after Moridelt, and leaves them to their planning. Which doesn’t go well.

First thing the party does is scatter. Each finding different ways to bed down for the evening. The rogue/bard talks their way into a free room. The ranger and artifacer each buy their own rooms for the night. The monk sneaks into the stables and sleeps in one of the empty stalls while the Druid, who actually has a mule stabled there, just walks in and takes a nap.

The next morning the outlaws awaken to a new day and a goal in mind, but not even a hint of a plan. Rango, the monk, took the criminal background when character building and finds a contact in town, hoping to find a way to sneak aboard the train when it stops at noon. The contact just so happens to be the train ticket booth operator. After a brief conversation Rango has found a way into the train without a ticket.

The rest of the party meets up at the ticket booth just after this, all thinking that buying a ticket is the best first step to stealing the chest. However, before buying the tickets an argument as to the exact nature of the plan breaks out between Sammy, Verven, and Richard. An argument in which the party openly discussed hijacking the train without the slightest concern as to remaining inconspicuous. They were overheard by the ticket sales character, which didn’t much matter because that particular character is established as a criminal as well, but it does matter that someone else overheard the raised voices and dastardly plans.

The shopkeeper next door, a retired sheriff, poked his head out of the shop and stared down the party members, getting a good long look at them before making a bee line for the sheriff’s office. The party sees this, knows what it means, and does nothing. About a minute of role play between the PCs goes by as they continue to argue over the plan. Soon, at 25 minutes before the train arrives, the sheriff, the shop keep, and 3 deputies approach the train station (where the party wait for the train with 0 plan).

The monk sees what’s coming and goes stealth, hiding behind a building. The sheriff announces that the party needs to surrender for questioning on suspicion of conspiracy to commit a crime or expect a fight, and the party chooses violence.

Rango, the crouching tiger hidden Dragonborn monk, takes first rank in initiative. They wall run onto the top of a building, lean over the edge, and rain fire breath upon an unsuspecting deputy.

The Druid casts a spell that turns most of the battle field into rough terrain and slows down movement, then wildshapes into a giant scorpion. The artifacer and the ranger post up behind a building corner and start popping off shots with their guns, while Sammy the rogue/bard casts crown of madness to cause the sheriff to attack the shop keep.

The monk focuses all of their attacks on one deputy next round, a shotgun blast to the back (which counts as a monk weapon), a pistol round to the face, and a flurry of blows kick that tops of the destruction. Sammy maintains crown of madness while the artifacer and the ranger keep raining bullets on the enemy, and the Druid stabs a giant scorpion stinger into one of the deputy’s brain.

The last law man standing is the sheriff. The giant scorpion Druid latches on with both claw attacks, and manages to miss with the stinger, just as the monk leaps through the air and finishes them off with a decapitating guillotine kick.

So the outlaws of this party aren’t exactly the most organized, or inconspicuous, but they are covered in blood and standing in the middle of the street with 24 minutes before the train arrives. I’ll have a part 2 about the Wild West Side Quest out to you shortly. Until then, happy trails.

[angryschnauzer]

Undercover Honeymoon

Summary; Having survived a helicopter crash that killed off the gang you and your senior agent had infiltrated, you hide out from the storm that brought the aircraft down by pretending to be Honeymooners at a boutique hotel... but what will 24 hours with August Walker bring you? Trouble, that’s what, and the best possible kind.

Pairing: August Walker x Female Reader (no race or body type specified)

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Smut, honestly this is entirely smut, its a crack fic too. Sigh, here goes: face slap, murder, August in a hoodie and grey sweatpants, oral sex (female recieving), blowjob, drunken antics, impared judgement, titty fucking, fingering, unprotected sex, anal sex, inappropriate lube, multiple orgasms, dubious consent, choking, dom-vibes, Sugar Daddy arrangement (but no Daddy kink).

I do not run a tag list, but if you go and follow @angryschnauzerwrites​ and hit notifications, you’ll get an alert to any new stories i post. All previous fics can be found on there or on my Ao3

Undercover Honeymoon

The helicopter spiralled out of control, the tall pines looming through the storm of the century rain, screaming filled your ears, unsure if it was the sound of the engines failing or coming from your own lungs. The aircraft made contact with the trees and everything went black.

-

“Agent… AGENT!” a slap across your face sprang you from your unconscious state, your vision blurred and you winced at the sharp pain that shot through your temple as the face before you came into focus.

“Walker?” you muttered; “Can’t blow our cover…”

Strong arms gripped your shoulders;

“Wake UP! Everyone else is dead”

The next hour was surreal. Agent Walker - your superior officer - had pulled you from the wreckage of the helicopter, past the lifeless bodies of the gang you’d infiltrated, some of which had injuries that looked suspiciously like gunshot wounds. Either way you were alive and so was the other undercover agent, and having spent the last four days running bank robberies you were relieved to be rid of the brutal gang.

Agent Walker had half dragged half carried you through the forest, and even though it was the middle of the day, the torrential rain and dark storm clouds above made the way feel like you were travelling at twilight. When you stumbled on some roots he caught you, his arm firmly around your waist;

“C’mon Agent, not much further now…” his voice softer than usual, reassuring even.

“Where’re we going?”

“Out of season ski lodge… should be quiet this time of year, just a couple of wildlife watchers no doubt”

-

What you’d been expecting was a cute little place with checkered curtains and cutesy decor, what you’d arrived at was a luxury boutique hotel. Agent Walker had managed to spin a very convincing tale of your car leaving the highway due to the weather and he’d arrange to get it recovered after the storm so you could continue your ‘honeymoon’. The receptionist had smiled warmly and offered the pair of you the luxury suite, August merrily peeling $100 bills off a stack he’d produced from his pocket, the paper band that held them together from the robbery slyly crumpled up and you quietly picked it up from the floor, a tiny smirk on the corner of his face when he spotted you covering his rare mistake.

-

Ten minutes later you were settled in your shared room, starting to peel yourself out of your soaked boots and clothing as you eyed the enormous bathroom and ultra fluffy robes that were provided.

“I’m going to go to the gift shop…” he announced, breaking the silence; “They do hoodies and stuff, i’ll grab some dry things to change into…”

“Thanks Agent Walker… I’m going to take a bath…”

He nodded quietly, standing at the door;

“It’s August… call me August”

You must have fallen asleep in the bath, as the next thing you know there is an insistent knocking on the bathroom door;

“Honey? Honey, everything ok in there?”

“Y-yes, Sorry, fell asleep…”

“Ok Honey, just got room service here delivering some lunch”

“Thanks Aug… Augie…”

Augie? Where the hell did that come from? You mentally chastised yourself. An hour ago he was your senior agent and all round grumpy supervisor, now he was ‘Augie’? You actually facepalmed yourself before taking a deep breath and climbing out of the bath. A few moments later once you were dry, wearing the fluffy robe you stepped out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, your breath catching in your throat;

“Augie… we have company?”

Agent Walker was standing in the middle of the room in his shirt, underwear and socks, talking to the room service attendant as he tipped the young man;

“Darling, lunch is here, you must be famished” he let a warm smile spread over his face as he turned to the staff member; “We must have a bite to eat… expending lots of energy, it is our honeymoon after all…”

Once he’d ushered the man out of the room he cleared his throat and his expression dropped, his face serious again;

“I got your new attire… it fits more with the location” he motioned for you to follow him to the bed where there were a number of things laid out, however your feet were rooted to the floor; “What?”

“You’re… you’re in your underwear…”

He looked down, almost in shock to discover he was without his cargo pants;

“Yes? And you’re completely naked beneath that fetching white robe” he motioned to a side of the bed where a bunch of things were sat on the pristine white duvet; “So unless you wish to eat lunch having me know you are naked save for a glorified towel with sleeves - and that would be a delightful thought - you may want to get changed whilst i shower”

Without another word he smirked, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief and grabbed a pile of clothing on the bed, before sauntering into the bathroom, leaving you open jawed at both his sassiness and his tight ass in snug jersey boxers.

Turning back to what was laid on the bed you looked over what he’d managed to get in the hotel’s boutique; a daringly short floral summer dress, a hoodie with the Hotel’s logo on, a pack of novelty thong panties also with bears on, and the highest heeled wedge sandals you’d ever seen. Although none of this surprised you, it was after all the kind of hotel where in good weather, the rich and famous could have cocktails on the deck as they overlooked the Rocky mountains, the fact he’d managed to find your exact size in everything was impressive.

Leaving the heels off for now, you pull the panties and dress on, throwing the hoodie on unzipped to cover up a little, before going to investigate the food, realising that you probably hadn’t eaten for close to 24 hours. You were bent over the service trolley scrutinising the various dishes that had been delivered when you heard his voice;

“Huh, didn’t need to buy you a wallet, those tiny panties show off your silken purse beautifully Princess”

Spinning around you gasped, about to give him a piece of your mind but your train of thought stopped like a record scratch. There before you stood Agent August Walker, grey sweats hanging dangerously low on his hips, chest bare as he pulled a khaki green hoodie over his still damp curls. You noticed how his beard was a little beyond stubble, his mustache curling as a small smile tugged as his lips. Your gaze unashamedly ran down the length of his entire body, emphasis on length as it was clear he was without any underwear, and those rumours that were quietly whispered in the ladies room at the Pentagon were looking to be true as to exactly why they called him ‘The Hammer’.

Still holding a cooling French Fry he sauntered over to you before grabbing a sandwich from the platter;

“My apologies… that was inappropriate” he took a bite, before talking with his mouth full; “Been a crazy 24 hours huh?”

“Y-yeah, you could say that… so, what’s the plan?”

Just at that moment an incredible gust of wind rattled the windows to the point you thought they would blow in, the lights overhead flickered before settling back to bright as he answered;

“Eat, Drink, Sleep. We’re stuck here at least overnight. We don’t have any cells or electronics people can trace, and having checked the map this is not the closest civilisation to the crash site so even if people did come looking for us, this isn’t the first place they’d think of… however in this weather the roads are impassable, at least two rivers have breached their banks, we’re basically cut off from the rest of the world here in our own little bubble” he took a bite of sandwich before grinning at you; “So eat up, the bar downstairs is well stocked, dinner is apparently served in about 4 hours, and there’s a game room if you’re up for a round or two of pool…”

-

Giggling you both tumbled into your suite, August flicking the light switch up and down before realising the power had gone out at the exact moment he’d unlocked the door;

“Oooh dark… are you afraid of the dark Princess?”

The pair of you stumbled and turned, pushing the door shut and you found yourself pressed between it and August’s body, his lips finding your neck as he pressed kisses along your jugular, his facial hair leaving behind a trail of tingling skin in its wake;

“Depends who i’m in the dark with…”

He was so close, in the faint last traces of daylight as the storm took hold of the night you could see the outline of his face, how his long eyelashes rested against his cheeks as he closed his eyes, his breath warm on your skin as you were surrounded by his scent, pine soap and single malt whiskey;

“A monster…”

“I was never afraid of monsters…”

He dropped to his knees in front of you, pressing a kiss to your clothed stomach before his hands were beneath the skirt and pulling your novelty panties down;

“Hold your dress up Princess, show me that pretty pussy”

Doing as he told you, you gripped the pretty fabric in your hands as he hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, pressing kisses to your inner thighs before his thick fingers parted your folds and he dived in. His mustache and light beard pricked at your sensitive skin, but his tongue and lips soothed your aching core, desperate for attention and dripping with need as he went to town on you. He quickly brought you to orgasm before pushing you on for the next, his fingers now knuckle deep in your velvet walls, curling just right to find that spot that had you dripping, his tongue working against your clit to the point where you had to steady yourself by curling one hand through his soft chestnut curls, riding his face as you cried out his name.

Now over sensitive, you pulled his curls to get him to relent, a grunt of frustration coming from between your thighs;

“Augie… please… too sensitive…”

He quickly stood, lifting you to kiss you roughly, his tongue pushing into your mouth and you could taste yourself on his tongue as he gripped your ass as he carried you across the room before unceremoniously dropping you on the bed;

“Strip” he commanded as he staggered to the bathroom. 

You ignored his request, instead reaching for a bottle of water at the side of the bed, taking a drink from he as he returned holding a bottle;

“August… what’s that?”

He looked down at the bottle, almost surprised he was holding something and blinked a few times before looking back at you;

“Baby oil. Its... Baby oil”

“Why do you have Baby oil?” you asked, already knowing the answer but with a sly streak wanting to get him to admit it

“Because they didn’t sell condoms in the gift shop so i cant fuck your pussy because i can’t check to see if you’re on birth control” he blurted out quickly.

Whatever you had been expecting, it hadn’t been that, and as you coughed on the water you had been about to drink, August got distracted and moved to light the candles that sat on the table in the centre of the room now that the only available light was the tiny light over the sink in the bathroom that was battery operated. You watched as he somehow managed to strike the matches and light the candles even though he was visibly drunk, before returning back to the bed and standing over you;

“Why aren’t you naked?” he frowned at you; “Don’t make me rip that pretty little dress off of you Princess”

Shimmying out of your dress you bit your lip as you watched him watching you, the low light dancing over your body and enough for you to see the obscene bulge barely contained by his sweatpants. He stood at the edge of the bed, towering over you before he took hold of your ankles and roughly pulled you to the edge of the bed before he pulled the grey sweats down and you finally got sight of his legendary hammer;

“Fuck…”

“We’ll get to that Princess, but first, suck”

Taking him in your hands he was hot and throbbing at your touch, his thick shaft patterned with veins, heavy and virile. You pumped your fist, your fingers unable to meet as you worked his uncut dick. You felt his hand on the back of your head, pulling you closer until you had no choice but to open your mouth and take him as deep as you could, gagging as he immediately hit the back of your throat and started to fuck your mouth.

Holding your head in place with both hands he rocked his hips back and forth, groaning as he stretched your lips almost uncomfortably. Soon you had spit running down your chin as he rained down a stream of degrading compliments;

“Cock hungry slut, look at you with my dick in your mouth… does it taste good, Jesus christ your tongue is perfect, yeah do that thing again, fuck, i can feel your throat tight around me…” with a gasp he pulled out, a trail of spittle hanging from your lips to his angry red tip, before he grabbed the baby oil and pushed you back until you were laying flat on the bed;

“Push your tits together, i’m gonna fuck them and cum all over your pretty face”

He climbed on the bed, straddling your lower torso as you found yourself pushing your breasts together. The click of a bottle of baby oil and it was being poured in the valley of your chest, before he settled his dick against the slick skin. He dropped the bottle and with a grunt pulled his hoodie over his head, revealing his glorious chest, covered in dark hair and thicker than you had realised. 

His dick was heavy against your chest as he took your hands in his and showed you how he wanted you to hold your titties for him, rocking his hips bath and forth as his hot flesh slipped through your soft pillows, the angry tip poking out at your neck with each thrust;

“So fucking pretty, gonna cum all over that face… you wanna taste my cum you little slut? Yeah? Cock hungry slut, can’t get enough of my dick, can you?”

You didn’t answer, the lust in his eyes making you drunk with desire, instead you tipped your head to your chest and opened your mouth, letting August’s dick slide into your mouth, the salty tang of his precum hitting your senses.

His thrusts were becoming rough and violent, his hips squeezing your ribcage as he fought back against the urge to cum, but you wanted it, needed it;

“August, will you cum on my face, pretty please?” you batted your eyelashes at him innocently and it was the final straw, and you watched as he threw his head back and thick ropes of his creamy seed spurted over your mouth and cheeks as he groaned so deliciously. On the last spurt you leaned forwards and took his tip into your mouth, gently laving your tongue over the leaking slit, before releasing him softly. August had eased his gasp on your tits, and using his thick finger he scooped the cum from your cheek;

“Open wide Princess”

Sticking your tongue out you sucked the bitter treat from his finger, before he repeated it with the other cheek. Finally swallowing you grinned at him;

“Thank you August”

His hand paused on your cheek, softly cupping it;

“Anything for you Princess… now scoot up the bed, i wanna eat that pussy again whilst i get you ready for my dick”

He swung his leg over so you could wriggle up the bed, and immediately he was laying between your legs, both of your thighs over his shoulders as he started to sloppily eat you out again, except this time his lubed fingers strayed to your asshole and he already had one knuckle deep in your back entrance. You were writhing against his tongue, and although not as accurate with his targets this time now that the alcohol in his system was taking hold, that wide tongue was driving you to heaven as his fingers pulled you down into the dark pits of depravity that hell could only contain. You were uttering almost incomprehensible gibberish, begging for more which he eagerly gave, a second and soon a third finger stretching your ass as he prepared you for what was yet to come. You came with a scream as his wide tongue tormented your pussy until you had to physically pull him by his curls to stop, breathless as you watched him kneel on the bed and grab the baby oil, pouring some onto his hand to lube his dick before smoothing a considerable amount over your asshole and lined up his now raging hard on with your stretched hole. He paused, looking down at you;

“Final chance to back out… do you want me to fuck your ass?”

“Yes… please August, i want your dick in my ass, i want you to cum in my ass, treat me like a dirty anal slut”

With a groan he pushed forwards, slowly breaching your body and you felt the uncomfortable stretch of having a dick slide into your ass. Even with the prep and the oil it still took a while for your body to relax enough for him to push in, but when he eventually was balls deep in your ass you felt so full you were sure you would burst;

“Oh my god… You’re so big…”

“Taking me like a champ Princess, even with the oil your ass is so fucking tight i’m struggling not to blow my load right here and now”

“Fuck my ass August, do it hard, i wanna feel it in the morning…”

With a roar he started to fuck into you, holding himself up on his massive arms as his hips pistoned into you, filling your barren depths as his pubic bone rubbed against your empty pussy and your juices flooded his crotch;

“So fucking wet Princess, leaking all down your ass, its only adding to the lube so i can fuck you harder. Your poor little battered asshole, you’re barely gonna be able to sit tomorrow… apart from back on my dick as we have breakfast, don’t think this is the only time i’m gonna fuck your ass, i’m gonna use this hole until you’re loose and stretched, so i can just bend you over and slide my dick into your ass. Gonna hide those stupid panties i bought you, i want you walking around bare, my cum dripping down your legs where there’s so much inside you, you can barely keep it inside… shame the gift shop didn’t sell plugs, i woulda’ filled you with my load and have you plugged and ready lubed for me to use whenever i pleased…”

August’s dirty talk had you cumming hard, squeezing him tight and yet he fucked you straight through it. Laying limp as he continued to fill your ass he slowed and moved, kneeling on the bed as he moved your legs from either side of his lips until both your feet were over one of his shoulders, pushing and pulling you until he had one arm firmly wrapped around your knees and he could fuck into your ass as he held you like a rag doll. The new position was tighter, deeper, and as you started to pant out with lust his free hand rested on your throat, squeezing carefully but firmly;

“Harder…” you panted out, your head swimming as your airway was restricted, and as he pounded into your ass you were both getting close.

“Gonna cum in your ass, fill you up with a massive load, you want that Princess?”

You tried to say yes, but all that came out was a tiny croak as his massive hand gripped your throat. Before you could even try again your orgasm hit, your eyes rolling back in their sockets as you squirted, your body gripping him so tight he reached his peak, pushing in as deep as he could as he pumped your ass full of his cum.

August released his grip on your neck, pulling out gently as he softly lay your legs on the bed;

“Did so well Princess, such a good little slut…”

You could only hum out a response, your mind as used as your body was.

-

You woke to the sound of soft rain falling against the window, peering out from beneath the duvet you could see that the grey light of morning was filling the room, the storm seemingly blown mostly through with just a persistent rain now dampening the earth. Shifting on the bed you winced, everything was sore, but especially your ass. But then a warm body pressed to your back, a large hand smoothed over your stomach and a familiar voice spoke softly in your ear as stubble brushed against your bare shoulders;

“Rise and shine…”

“Hmmmmm no, i don’t wanna get up” you grumbled

“But…”

“Noooo. If we get up then we’ve got to think about things going back to normal, i just wanna pretend i’m able to stay in a hotel as nice as this when i’m not trying to escape a dangerous gang… too many responsibilities, too much stress… i just want another half hour of being treated like a Princess” you grumbled.

A quiet chuckle came from behind you;

“There’s no reason why we can’t do this again”

Turning in his arms, you looked at August;

“How? You’re my superior Agent, the CIA pushes and pushes and pushes, I never get enough time off to do something like this, If i had known i was literally signing my life away i would never have signed up for the academy. What’s the fucking use of earning a good wage if i can never enjoy it… and its not even that good of a wage to be honest…” you paused and narrowed your gaze; “Have you showered?”

“Yes. And i have a proposition for you…”

“Keep talking…”

August started to move, slowly climbing between your legs and you felt his hard dick resting against your folds, your pussy instinctively growing wet, slowly rubbing against you as he smiled down at you;

“As a senior agent i get a considerably better wage than you do, but i don’t have anyone to share it with, anyone to treat like a Princess and spoil with gifts that they deserve… but i also want someone that will be agreeable to my darkest desires…” he rocked his hips back before slowly parting his thighs, and you felt the nudge of his tip at your soaked pussy; “... someone, a woman i can treat like a Princess but will let me fuck them like a whore… can i fuck your pussy like a whore?”

The gentle nudge of his dick just stretching the ring of muscle that granted access to the heaven between your legs had you begging, pleading to be August’s Whore. He let out a sigh of pleasure as he slowly sank into your pussy, bare and unprotected filling you with his virile shaft;

“You’re my Slutty Princess…taking my dick like a pro”

In that hotel room August Walker became your sugar Daddy, and over room service breakfast you agreed the details of your arrangement as you sat on his lap, his dick in your ass as he fed you strawberries, before he grew impatient and bounced you on his dick until he came in your barren depths. Resting back against his chest, his softening dick still inside you he played with your pussy as he discussed the next step, trying to decide if a trip to an adult store or a jewellery store should be the first stop after returning to DC;

“How about a jewelled plug?” you suggested; “That’s the best of both worlds”

Holding your jaw he turned your head so he could kiss you, pulling away and grinning;

“See, that’s why you’re the perfect Princess, smart and sexy…”

You felt him start to harden in your ass again, wriggling and letting out a giggle as you felt him stretch your insides;

“Over the table or out on the balcony in the rain?” you asked

“Oooh lets do the balcony… its check out time so a few other guests will be able to see my little slut have her battered asshole filled with another load”

There on the balcony that overlooked the serene mountains August filled your ass again, your naked bodies soaked with the rain as he gripped your breasts whilst he fucked you from behind. 

You couldn’t wait to be August’s play thing.

[dreamwritesimagines]

Burn The Witch 3 - Ensnared [Bucky Barnes x Reader]

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful support and feedback my loves ! ❤ Here’s the next chapter, I hope you like it as well and please let me know what you think! ❤ Thank you! ❤❤❤

Warnings: Enemies to lovers, fake dating, mentions of blood, sex, violence, death, manipulation, language, guns.

Summary: Things aren’t always what they seem to be.

Series Masterlist

Finding out that the target you had been assigned to seduce and manipulate for information was actually a good person had its advantages and disadvantages.

For starters, the biggest advantage was that now you could prepare a strategy based on his personality. After all, good people were easier to trick, it was the people like you that would’ve given you a hard time if the roles were reversed. You had been taught to approach everyone with suspicion and pinpoint their weak spots to use against them and as it turned out, Bucky didn’t adapt the same strategy when it came to other people.

The disadvantage? You had no idea how to deal with that.

For years and years you had been trained to kill, lie, manipulate and not look back or feel guilty about any of it because you were told that all your targets were the kind of people that would’ve harmed you or others if they had the chance; so Bucky not being evil was surprising at the very least.

The infamous Winter Soldier hadn’t tried to hurt you when he was under attack, hadn’t tried to use you as a leverage to get out of there unlike what you would’ve done if the roles were reversed.

Needless to say, you were confused as hell.

“I mean when you think about it, it’s not surprising that he’s a good guy,” Chloe said, resting her feet on the table in the empty conference room, “Didn’t he fight against Thanos with Steve Rogers and everyone else?”

“I would’ve fought in that war if I could as well, it doesn’t mean that I’m a good person.”

She pouted, “That’s debatable. I think you’re a great person.”

“No I’m not. I swear to you I’m not.”

“Come on, you don’t give yourself enough credit.”

“If it were me, I would’ve pushed him into the line of fire without a second thought.”

“Exactly. We’re terrible people and we acknowledge that, Chloe.” Keith said as you tapped your pencil on the file,

“Back to the first impression strategy, guys. How do I meet Barnes?”

“Hold on, before we continue with the strategy you need to give me an answer about your cover job,” Chloe said, “We can’t have him suspect you’re hiding anything from him. Jobs are a huge part of someone’s life, it’ll come up.”

Keith raised his head, “What are the options?”

“Oh you know, the usual. Sales assistant, retail—“

“The last time you put me in retail for an undercover job, I ended up punching a customer.” he cut her off, “I vote no to the retail.”

“I’m sure they had it coming,” you deadpanned and Chloe hmmed.

“Fast food?”

“No, it makes my hair smell bad.”

“There’s a milkshake shop I can put you in, it doesn’t smell bad. It’s close to the coffee shop he and Wilson get their coffee from.”

“What’s the catch?”

A small grin pulled at her lips, “It’ll be good for the mission.”

You frowned as Keith sat up straighter, curiosity written all over his face. “Chloe? Share your devious plans with the class please?”

“It’s a retro milkshake shop and the uniforms are like….1940s pin up meets 1950s diner waitress.”

Keith started laughing and you stared at Chloe before letting out a groan, burying your face into your palms.

“I hate you so much.”

“Come on, it’s going to be Bucky Barnes’ wet dream, you know that!” Keith said, “On a completely unrelated note, can I see those uniforms?”

“No!” you snatched the phone from Chloe’s hand before Keith could take a look, “No you can’t!”

“I’m so going to take pictures, and when you become a handler I will use them to humble you.”

“I will shoot you if you do that, and can you please focus?” you insisted, “I have a meeting with General soon, and he will ask me about the strategy and I can’t go there with no ideas.”

“Just find something you and Barnes are interested in both, that never failed me,” Keith paused, “Well that, and my good looks.”

Chloe turned to look at him, “I gave her a huge file containing everything there is to know about him,” she said, “It will help her to make him fall in love, but meeting him is something else.”

“Guys,” he rolled his eyes “What are you, fifteen? It’s incredibly easy to meet people.”

“No, it’s incredibly easy to meet civilians,” you corrected him, “Or the bad guys. It’s not like Barnes goes to bars or anything, he’s not very social.”

“Yeah I get that but he has to do something.” he insisted, “Just hand me the file, are you sure you didn’t miss anything?”

“We didn’t—he does the same thing every superhero does,” Chloe threw her hands up, “He saves people if they’re in need, but how are we going to use that?”

You opened your mouth to answer but when the thought struck you, you took a sharp breath, narrowing your eyes. A smile lit up your face, the plan slowly forming in your mind and Keith frowned at you over the file.

“Y/N you’re smiling,” he reminded you, “It’s creepy when you do it genuinely.”

“He does, doesn’t he?” you asked as you turned to Chloe, “You’re right. Superheroes save people, and—and Barnes is not only a superhero, but he’s also a good guy right? He didn’t use me as a leverage while getting out of there, so he cares about people’s wellbeing, so to speak.”

“Yeah?”

You snapped your fingers, “I need to find someone to shoot me.”

“Same, you’re not special.”

Chloe gasped, “Keith!”

“Relax, she’s not serious.”

“No I’m very serious.”

He scowled, “Did you forget what happened when I accidentally shot you on a mission three years ago? It was just one time and you bitched at me for a whole month. You found me when I was working undercover in Brazil to show up at my apartment so that you could complain about it more, I don’t even know how you found my address, it was classified info.”

“I gave her your address.” Chloe held up a hand and Keith heaved a sigh.

“Thank you Brutus.”

“You had it coming,” you pointed out, “But forget about that for a second, okay? I think I just found our strategy. We’re going to use me as a bait.”

“What?”

“That’s how I’ll meet him. We will put me in a dangerous position and he will…” you tried to ignore the bitter taste at the back of your throat, “He will have to save me.”

“I’m sorry,” Chloe said, “He will help you and you will use that to lure him, did I get that right?”

“Exactly,” you grinned, “What better way to manipulate a hero than to give him somebody to save?”

She blinked a couple of times, then turned to Keith.

“Honestly, in times like these I wonder why I’m friends with you guys,” she commented, “Do you have any idea why on earth I’m friends with you?”

He shrugged his shoulders,

“I don’t know,” he said, “Because we’re fun when we’re not diabolical?”

                                           ***

The plan was pretty simple, it would look like a robbery gone wrong. You would be accompanied by one of the lower ranking agents who would pose as a robber so that if he got caught while getting away, it would pose no threat to your cover afterwards, not to mention it couldn’t be traced back to you or the operation.

Of course, you had to make sure that Bucky would stay behind and meet you while Wilson chased the bad guy off. Based on your observations on Wilson, saving people always came first rather than punishing the other person, he put the safety of innocents before anything else, so you had to find a way for them to think Wilson was more suitable for the chase.

Motorcycle. The rookie agent would get away on a motorcycle, which would require Wilson to use his wings to gain speed on him.

But God, you just hated playing the damsel in distress.

“I just want to say I’m honored that you picked me for this mission,” the agent was almost buzzing with excitement in the back alley while you waited until Wilson and Barnes was anywhere within hearing distance. “I heard- I heard so much about you Shrike. Ma’am.”

You leaned your back to the wall, crossing your arms.

“Is it true that you once killed a target using just a pencil?” he asked, “Or that you took down five armed people with a dagger?”

You turned your head to look at him better, amusement making you smile.

“Or- or that you can get information out of someone in just five minutes?” he held his breath, “Or that your father-“

“Don’t talk about my father.” You cut him off, the harsh command leaving your lips almost too fast and you felt the slight guilt pulling at your heartstrings before you shook your head.

“You’re a good shot, right?” you asked, “I don’t want to get the bullet stuck in my arm, you’ll just graze me.”

“I’m a great shot ma’am, top of my class.”

“And you need to make it look believable. Remember, if Wilson catches you—“

“He will take me to the nearest police station, and I will stay there until an agent is sent to pick me up. But do you want me to get caught?”

“Try not to,” you shrugged your shoulders “But if he does, don’t worry about it. He has no reason to believe it’s anything more than some mugging.”

His phone beeped and he checked it, then took a deep breath, “Barnes and Wilson are within hearing distance. Are you ready?”

“Let’s do this,” you said and he grabbed his gun, then pointed it at your arm. You cleared your throat, looking over your shoulder before you turned to him and let out a very high scream, probably enough to reach the people nearby. He pulled the trigger and the gunshot echoed through the alley, a burning spreading all over your arm and making you fall to your knees.

“Are you okay?” he stepped closer to you and you tried to catch your breath.

“Go!” you hissed and he ran to the motorcycle before he rode away and as soon as he was out of your sight, Barnes and Wilson ran to the alley and you started sobbing, holding onto your arm which throbbed in pain.

Good news was he was a good shot, and he had managed to only graze you. But considering that your cover was a civilian, you doubted civilians were used to gunshot wounds, so you had to make it dramatic.

“Ma’am?” Wilson rushed to you with Barnes following him and you tried to breathe through sobs.

“Thank God, please help me—“ you sniffled and looked at the other side of the alley, breathing fast, “He took my wallet, and-and he had a motorcycle…”

“On it. Buck, stay with her.” Wilson said and ran out of the alley as Barnes crouched down to your level while you kept panting, your knees pulled to your chest, leaning back to the wall.

“Hi,” he smiled at you softly and you took a trembling breath, looking up at him with wide eyes.

“Hello,” you managed to say as he stole a look at your arm before his eyes snapped back to yours.

“I’m Bucky,” he said, “What’s your name?”

“Y/N.”

“Can I look at your arm, Y/N?”

You pursed your lips together, pretending to consider it before you raised your hand so that he could see the graze on your upper arm. He furrowed his brows for a moment, and carefully lifted your arm to see it better under the street lights while you sniffled again.

“Am I—am I going to die?” you stammered and he let out a small chuckle.

“No,” he said, “No you won’t. It’s just a graze, it doesn’t even look like it’ll need stitches. I promise.”

“But how do you know?”

“Let’s just say I’ve had my fair share of arm injuries.”

You tried to keep the look of confusion on your face before you slowly averted your gaze from him to his metal wrist and you gasped, your jaw dropping as if you were distracted from the pain.

“Bucky? As in Bucky Barnes?” you asked, “Wait, no. Right? Can’t be.”

A look of regret flashed over his face, apparently he thought that would scare you but lucky for you, you had seen it coming while coming up with a strategy.

“I heard about you!” you said, “You fought against Thanos!”

He was taken aback at the fact that you didn’t accuse him of anything his head was obviously swarming with, and that would be the one thing you could base your whole plan on.

In order to make him fall in love with you and trust you, you had to act like you trusted him, act like you had little to no knowledge of the dark side of his past. Naïve civilian girl with a soft heart was the perfect cover because as far as you could tell from his file, Bucky Barnes just wanted to come back home from war.

He had been looking for something he could call his home for decades now and you’d let him believe you were his home until your orders told you otherwise.

“That’s it?” he asked when you didn’t continue and you pulled your brows together.

“Hm?”

“That’s all you…all you wanted to say?”

“Right—” you took a deep breath, “Right, I’m sorry. Thank you for all you’ve done, for saving the world.”

“No no, I didn’t mean—“ he stopped himself, “That wasn’t what I meant. Trust me, you shouldn’t be thanking me.”

“Well I am though,” you winced when you moved your arm before turning your head to check the dark alley “Bucky? Do you… do you think that robber would come back?”

“Sam’s got it covered.” he assured you, “Don’t worry. He’s not getting away, and he’s definitely not coming back here.”

“Okay.” You murmured and wiped at your eye again with the back of your free hand before you clutched at your arm again, a sob tearing itself from your chest. “God, it just—it hurts so bad...”

He shushed you gently, “I know it does sweetheart. Let’s get you to the hospital so that it will stop hurting, alright?”

Ah.

Even by 40s standards, sweetheart was a good sign.

You shook your head, “But I can’t go to the hospital.”

“Why not?”

“I’m on a budget.”

He blinked a couple of times, “Come again?”

“I don’t have enough money for the hospital. I’m sure if I put a band aid on it or something it’d work, you said it wouldn’t need stitches and there’s a pharmacy right around the corner you see—”

“That’s not how bullet wounds work, let’s go.” He helped you up but you stumbled into him, letting him catch you as you looked up at him.

“I apologize, I just feel dizzy…” you said and he smiled softly.

“Don’t worry about it,” his voice was soothing, “You think you can walk? I can carry you.”

“No I can—I can walk,” you stammered and let him lead you out of the alley, his arm wrapped around your waist tight before he looked down at you.

“You’re shaking,” he murmured to himself, then he took off his jacket to put it over your shoulders. You pulled the oversized jacket tighter around you, brushing the sleeve over your forehead to push back your hair and only when he turned to stop a taxi you let a tiny smirk pull at your lips despite the throbbing on your arm.

Well, your superiors were going to be pleased. The first part of the mission was done.

Now all you had to do was make him fall in love with you.

                             Chapter 4

[kiyosamu]

painful reminders

(part 1/3)

——— ♡ ———

pairing: suna rintaro x female reader

genre: angst to comfort

cw: brief mentions and descriptions of assault (not from suna, not domestic violence), reader experiences post-traumatic stress, panic, anxiety

——— ♡ ———

“hey, i’m here now. you’re safe.”

the words echoed in your mind for a few seconds too long. you were hardly able to register their meaning while under the influence of your deep fear. you felt nothing but dread; impending pain and horror that you were sure was coming at any moment.

——— ♡ ———

suna slumped his body on the window of the train, trying to contort his larger than average build into a position comfortable enough to get a few moments of rest before arriving at his stop.

“attention passengers. there is a situation and we need to make an emergency stop at the next station. please gather your belongings and file out of the train as soon as we arrive.”

weird, he thought. must be another petty robbery. maybe someone refusing to get off of the tracks, or something exciting, like a mass murderer.

suna caught himself just as he had the thought, stopping his process immediately.

he shook his head, unimpressed at his ability to appear removed and disinterested no matter the situation. not to mention the scenarios running through his mind; scenarios that would terrify any sane person with an ounce of emotion no matter who they were.

suna scoffed and sat up to grab his bag.

of course, he knew it was nothing like that. that’s probably why he didn’t stay in his head and scare himself with anything further. why bother upsetting yourself by simply letting your mind run away from you? stupid, he thought. he never understood overthinkers. not only was it not productive, but it was exhausting.

thankfully, this station was only about a ten minute walk from the next, the one he was supposed to get off at. even though he was coming home from a tiring practice, the athlete never seemed to run out of stamina.

suna squinted as bright blue and red lights lit up the dark streets. rain began to pour and suna cursed his odds. the forecast predicted only a 10% chance of rain, and he just so happened to be getting caught in that unlucky percentage when he had to walk even further just to get back home.

he groaned and pushed his hair out of his face. the rain soaked his clothes, his sweatpants and shirt clinging to his body. suna felt disgusting and suddenly the thought of a hot shower was even more appealing than the leftover onigiri he had waiting in his fridge.

just as another thought of self pity was about to cross his mind, another police car flew by him.

must be pretty bad, wonder what happened..

that thought was as far as his curiosity went. if it was major, he’d probably hear about it on the news or in the paper. if not, well, it really was none of his business.

as he turned down the next street, he saw four police cars all blocking off the station. police tape sectioned off the area and officers stood with their arms crossed and chests pushed out as other vehicles pulled in.

he blinked a few times, taking in the scene for a second before realizing he’d stopped walking. suna brought himself back to reality and stared at the ground with his hands in his pockets. while he was shamelessly nosy as a teenager, he’d grown into quite the reserved young adult who knew how to mind his business.

unfortunately, that new trait flew out the window the second he heard a familiar voice.

——— ♡ ———

“officer, please. he said he’d come back for me, i don’t feel safe going home… i don’t have family here, i don’t have anywhere else to stay-“

“look. you’re just scared, but you’re not injured.” the man stared down at you with an emotionless glare. “there’s nothing more we can do for you. the suspect assaulted two other women and they’re cooperating. why are you asking us for more when we’ve done everything we can so far?”

his voice was as cold as your quickly declining temperature, the rain soaking through your t-shirt and causing you to shiver.

“he.. he held a knife to my throat. there’s-“ you lifted your hand to lightly trace the marks on your neck that had been squeezed in place only an hour before. “he said he was going to kill me but…” you trailed off, the night’s events playing over and over in your mind with no indication of stopping the endless repeat. “but then he saw the lights and ran. he said he’d be back for me…”

the officer sighed.

“criminals often utter threats to make their victims submit to their words and give in. they want to commit their crimes as quickly as possible. we’ve gone over this, you didn’t know him. he doesn’t know anything about you-“

“but what if he does?!” you shouted, tears streaming down your cheeks before you’d even realized you were crying.

“listen ma’am, you need to calm down-“ the officer grabbed your wrist and you ripped it away from him, covering your mouth and staring in disbelief at the officer. you were in shock. you couldn’t process what was going on, let alone what had happened. you didn’t know what to do.

you froze as you felt an arm around your shoulder. a familiar voice spoke your name with tenderness and a low, empathetic tone that you’d never heard from him.

“i’ll take her home, officer. she’s my neighbour.”

while that was true, you were still surprised at the gesture. rintaro suna had been your neighbour for 3 years. the two of you were friendly; you’d been to each other’s homes a handful of times and sometimes would share a meal or drop off some food that was too much for one person.

you were both single, living alone in your apartments. although you weren’t super close, you always felt like he was a friend. a slightly distant, reserved, quiet friend, but a friend nonetheless.

the two men exchanged words for what felt like an eternity before suna squeezed you closer to him, guiding you out of the area and walking you towards your apartment.

you opened your mouth to say something. anything. even just a greeting, a thank you for the escort home.

when you stopped walking, he stayed close to you and looked down at your expression.

you opened your mouth to say something but the moment you did, you relived the traumatizing situation once again and fell into a deep panic.

“i-i-… no-n..” your words broke as you felt your body shaking. the cold rain was doing nothing to help your condition, and if you could describe it in any way, it was like losing control of your own sanity. you felt the panic wash over you as the phantom pressure of the knife pressed against your windpipe - your mind quite literally putting you in a choke hold.

“hey. i’m here now, you’re safe.”

the words echoed in your mind for a few seconds too long. you were hardly able to register their meaning while under the influence of your deep fear. you felt nothing but dread; impending pain and horror that you were sure was coming at any moment.

suna wrapped his arms around you protectively. he didn’t know why, he didn’t even really know what was going on, but he knew that all he wanted to do in that moment was to prevent anything further from hurting you.

you clutched at his hand and dug your nails into his skin. you didn’t mean to, you didn’t even realize you were doing it. suna would be lying if he said it didn’t hurt, but he ignored it and held you close against him until you felt like you were okay to walk again.

when you caught your breath, you pulled his hand away from your face.

“i’m sorry… i don’t know what happened.” you choked out.

“you had a panic attack.” he said quietly. “we don’t need to talk about anything right now, though, okay? let me get you home. you went through something horrible and you’re freezing cold. it’s just a little more up the road, can you make it?”

you nodded, dropping your hands to your side and suna instinctively held onto the one closest to him.

“i’m scared to stay in my apartment… alone…” you whispered.

“you can stay with me.” suna said this with more certainty than suggestion. if anything, it was a statement. he was planning on having you stay over or even him staying at yours. whatever worked, he just didn’t want you to be alone and he knew you had nobody else to call.

he had never planned to get involved in your personal business like this. he didn’t want to be the weird neighbour, and he already worried if bringing you food some nights would make you uncomfortable.

those thoughts were always put to rest whenever you smiled at him and graciously accepted his gestures. your warm smile and the way your cheeks made your eyes squint when you were really happy was an image he’d always have trouble shaking out of his head for the following days.

suna snuck a glance at you as the two of you started to walk again. your smile that he swore could light up an entire city was nowhere to be seen.

he would do anything to see that smile on your face right now.

you looked like a shell of what you once were. he knew that you’d experienced something traumatic, but seeing you like this made him feel something hard in his chest.

you didn’t deserve that.

a painful squeeze developed deep inside him when he thought of what your face must have looked like when it had happened. a sweet girl who seemed to always bring out the bright side in any situation. you’d made him sweets (that he secretly broke his athletic diet for) when he’d lost an important game, and always made him smile whenever he saw you.

it was different right now. he felt anxious. he squeezed your hand in his and you didn’t even flinch, didn’t even seem to notice as you looked ahead with a blank stare.

on the other end, his touch alone was enough to give you the tiniest bit of comfort. it wasn’t much, and you were still scared, but it was enough to get you home.

——— ♡ ———

part 1 | part 2 (in progress) | part 3 (in progress)

[fandompride101]

Girls Gone Wild

Raven's POV:

"Exit on the third floor. Take a left!" Kori's voice guided me on the intercom. I followed her directions and took a sharp left. I ran down the long hallway, the lights flickering as I went. "The door on your right!"

I swung open the door and chased down the stairs as fast as I could. I could feel it though. This place was about to blow and I was still in it. I couldn't portal because I didn't have the strength, but I ran with all my might.

I reached the first floor of the building, pushing the door open with all my strength. The light from outside blinded me for a few seconds, but I ran anyway. I got past a building and sunk into the alleyway.  

There was a loud explosion.

I sank to the ground, keeping my back against the cold building. I took a few seconds to breathe and get my head on straight.

"Rachel!" Kori's voice cried out in panic as she searched for me. "Rachel!"

"I'm over here, Kori," I said weakly.

She rushed over to me and helped me to my feet. I put my arms around her for support as the tall Tamaran helped me over to the Titan car. Once we got close enough to the car, I let her go and climbed into the passenger seat.

"Kori, the next time you ask to have a girl time..." I turned to look at her as she started the car. "Remind me not to go." I sank into my seat and clutched my aching side. Even though it was already healing, I was so weak that it would take time for this bruise to heal.

Kori chuckled and shook her head, as she started our drive home.

Kori had begged me yesterday to go for a girl's day out. She had in shopping and spas in mind, not almost dying. I had said yes on a whim. I really don't get to spend much time with other girls and honestly, I didn't have anything better to do.

What started off with eating lunch on a nice pear, ended up being a chase down with some bad guys that robbed a bank. They ran from the bank to some wear-house, where we followed and caught them. Of course, they bombed the place and a few of them got away.

"Dick will not be very pleased." Kori shook her head. "He had told me not to go on any calls today and enjoy the day with you."

"Hey, we had fun." I smile. "You kicking that ogre of a guy's butt was pretty awesome."

"And you are getting quite good at hand-to-hand combat, Raven." She smiled at me. "You are right, it was a pretty good day."

"But next time we should stay in and do a movie night," I tell her, being completely serious. Today had been a close call and had drained me more than I cared to admit.

"You are right." Kori gave a tired smile. "When we get home how about we watch movies. I can get the guys on patrol for the night."

I forgot I was even on patrol tonight.

"That would be great, but I might fall asleep during the movie." I chuckled. As I did that my side started to ache more so I grasped it with both hands. "And maybe some ice tonight?"

"How bad was it?" She gave a concerned look.

The ogre man had kicked me in the ribs and gave me a bad bruise. I am sure it is already purple by now. After the ogre did that, Kori came in like a badass and kicked his butt.

"I'll be fine," I said, trying not to worry her. "All I need is rest."

She nodded and pulled into the drive of the Titan Tower. She opened the garage door and parked the car. When the car had stopped, I slowly climbed out of the car, holding my side. I let my cap fall over me, hiding my arms.

Kori and I walked into the tower together. When we stepped into the living room, the TV was on and showed us fighting on the screen. Garth and Jaime were commenting on something before they turned and saw us.

"Kori, Raven!" They jumped to their feet.

"You're on TV." Garth pointed to the screen.

"You did good work," Jaime commented.

"Where are the others?" Kori ignored their looks. I did the same.

"Dick and Damian are having a training session." Garth sat back down. "I am pretty sure one of them has killed the other by now."

"I bet Damian killed Dick." Jaime joked.

"Boys, have you don't your homework?" Kori eyed them.

The boys stood up and slumped out of the room. I followed Kori to the training room.

"If they have been in here the whole time, there is a chance they haven't heard." Kori turned to me. "Let me explain everything."

I nodded and followed her in.

Right away my eyes caught Damian slash at Dick's feet. Dick jumped up and narrowly missed Damian's sword. Dick countered with his bow staff, hitting Damian's side with it. Damian hissed in pain and then swiped the feet out from under Dick.

"Do you yield?" Damian said with his sword to Dick's neck.

"Yes." Dick coughed and sat up. Damian put away his sword and offered his hand out to Dick for help. The brother took it and stood to his feet.

Both of them seemed to notice us standing there.

"Ladies." Damian nodded to us.

"Hello." Kori stepped forward. "I want to explain before you hear it on the news."

Both of the boys looked at Kori. "What?" They both asked. Dick was confused and Damiana was a tad annoyed.

"Well, you see..." She turned to me. "We were going out to eat when we heard of a bank robbery."

"You didn't go... right?" Dick stepped forward, looking right at Kori.

"Well..." Kori backed away.

"We went," I confirmed. "The bank robbers ran from the bank to a warehouse, where we caught up to them," I explained to Dick. "We took care of it."

"Took care of it?" Damian said, pulling up something on his tablet that he had grabbed without me noticing. "It blew up!" He handed the tablet to Dick. Dick started reading.

I was glad for my cap now. I knew that if I had shown any of the guys that one of us got hurt, we wouldn't have heard the end of it. I stood up taller, trying to hide my injury. I wasn't going to let them know.

"We hadn't known it was more than just bank robbers," Kori argued.

"And you didn't call for help?" Dick said, handing back the tablet.

"We didn't have time." Said Kori.

Damian didn't say anything. I turned to look at him while Kori and Dick squabbled. Damian's eyes were on me as if he was searching for something. For some reason his eyes made me feel naked and exposed. I looked away.

"It says here one of the girls was injured." Damian interrupted Kori and Dick.

Dick looked at Kori and then at me. I looked at Kori, pleading with her not to say anything. She understood.

"It was a lie," Kori said confidently.

Damian looked at her. I prayed that she wouldn't crack.

"Well then, if no one got hurt, why does Raven have her cloak on?" Damian didn't turn from Kori.

"I am fine," I say. I knew to sell this lie I had to show him, so I opened my cloak and held myself up, telling my hands not to reach for my side. When Damian seemed satisfied, I put the cloak back around me.  

"Look, it was a small brawl and everything is fine now," I assured them. "We just came here to see if you guys would allow me off patrol tonight. I am beet."

Dick stood up straight and looked between Kori and me. After a second he nodded. "Fine. I'll fill in for you tonight."

"Thank you, Dick." Kori smiled.

He turned to her. "I am still not happy neither one of you saw the need to call us."

"We handled it," I told him.

"The building was destroyed." Damian stepped towards me. "If one of you had been in there, then this would be a whole different conversation."

If only I told him right there that I only escaped by seconds. I could just see his whole head-turning red and steam coming out of his ears. But I won't tell him. I mean what he doesn't know won't kill him.

Shortly after that, Kori and I went up to our rooms and changed into something more comfortable. I was already gaining my strength back, so I teleported downstairs and snuck up a cooler of ice.

Kori and I went to her room and watched The Office. Kori had shown me this show a while back, so now when we have girl bonding time, we usually watch it in silence. Kori and I shared the ice and nibbled on snacks that she hid up in her room.

"Damian was very angry when he read that someone had gotten hurt today." She spoke while the show changed to another episode.

"He did?" I tried to focus on the intro of the episode.

"It was almost as if he cared one of us had gotten hurt?" She said in an almost suggestive tone.

I looked at her, and she was smiling back at me. "I don't think..." I didn't know how to play it off. Her gaze on me made me turn red with embarrassment. "He was just angry, there is nothing to it."

"Hmmm." She said and turned back to the episode.

I tried to focus on the show, but my face was still red. The way she made it sound almost like Damian cared, but that can't really be. It was just an illusion.

We spent the rest of the night watching shows and soon fell asleep. I woke up around one in the morning and teleported to my bedroom for the rest of the night. I was already feeling better, but when I looked the bruise was still on my skin. The bad thing about bruises that even when my body heals, the bruising color stays on my skin for a while.

******

The Next morning I got up like normal and took a shower. I didn't really feel up to an early morning training, so I decided to go on a walk around the grounds. It was a lovely morning with the birds calling and no one in sight.

I was past the gate before I even realized it. I turned back to look at the giant 'T' in the sky. Titan Tower has been my home for many years now and looking back now, I was lucky to have Zatanna watching over me when I came to earth.

Zatanna was the first person to show me kindness when I came here. She was the one who saw the good in me and got me on the Titans. I owed her so much.

"Rachel?" A voice spoke out from behind me.

I turned and saw Damian in his workout gear. He lowered his sword that he was apparently training with and stepped towards me. I stepped forward, closing in the distance between us.

"Damian." I nodded to him.

"What are you doing out here?" He put his sword into his belt.

"I could ask you the same." I nodded to the sword.

"I was training." He stood straight. "Now you."

"I am going on a walk." I stood straight to mimic him.

He nodded in understanding. I turned back, thinking the interrogation was over. I heard his footsteps behind me before I saw him. He was soon walking my pace by my side.

"What are you doing?" I gave him a sideways glance.

"I am walking with you." He said, looking straight forward.

"Okay." I nodded and continued on my path.

"Where are we going?" He said after a few minutes of silence.

"Not sure," I say, brushing my hands across a bush on the path. It was the perfect time of year where the trees were turning green and it wasn't yet too hot out.

He just nodded and we continued on our walk. Honestly, it was nice to have him walking next to me, and even though we weren't talking, it wasn't boring. If it was anyone else like Garth or Jaime, it would be a long and annoying walk, but with Damian I was fine.

"What are you thinking about?" Damian turned to look at me.

"Nothing." I shrug.

"So are you going to tell me the truth about yesterday's events?" He gave an all-knowing look. I tried to play it off.

"I am not sure what you are talking about." I turn so I am not facing him.

"Raven, you are quite good at hiding things and lying, but you should know by now that I can read you. I have been trained by both the League of Assassins and my father. I know you're lying." He grabbed my arm and stopped me from walking anymore.

"Fine." I turned to him. "There was a hick-up and someone got away," I say, trying to avert his attention from what he was surely asking.

"Someone got away?" He stepped back.

"Kori and I have contacted the Justice League," I inform him.

"If this was a normal bank robber there would be no need for the Justice League to be involved." He looked me right in the eyes with his stern emerald eyes. "What are you not telling me?"

"Nothing." I lie.

"Rachel."

"Fine, it was a bit bigger of a situation that we ran into," I tell him. "It wasn't just a normal robbery and to our knowledge, they were working for someone high up than our pay grade, so we handed it over."

"How much high up of a pay grade?"

"Lex Luther," I tell him. "I mean it's a guess, but that is who Kori and I believe it to be."

"What makes you think that?" He tilted his head to look at me. He was adorable like this. Oh shut up mind!

"There were just a few boxes and things there that made us believe Lex had funded that place." I shrug.

"What was inside the boxes?"

"Weapons." I turn away. "As I said it was more than we bargained for."

"And you didn't call because..." He sounded annoyed.

"There was no time." I turned to him. "Look, I know you don't like that we stumbled on this for some reason, but it all happened so fast! There was no time to call for help."

He looked at me as if trying to see if I was hiding anything else from him. I huffed and turned back to the path and started walking. Of course, he followed.

It was a while before he spoke up again.

"And you got hurt?" He said, taking me away from my thoughts. I didn't answer him. "Look, I saw how you held yourself. Even with your cape, I could tell something was off in your walking."

"I was hit by an ogre," I say not looking at him. "It doesn't matter now because I have rested and it has healed."

"Even the skin coloration?" He asked.

How did he know that? I haven't ever told anyone that I heal but the bruising color doesn't go away. I mean a select people know, but none of them on the Titans. HE READ MY FILE!

"Your snooping now!" I turned to look at him, stopping him in his tracks.

"I need to know about everyone's weaknesses and strengths on the team. You should too if you were smart." His words cut through me.

I huffed and started fast walking away. Damian was close on my trail, following me every step. The faster I walk, the faster he did. When I knew I couldn't outrun him, I knew I had to portal.

I stopped dead in my tracks and back kicked Damian in the chest. He stumbled back.

"Azarath Metrion Zinthos" I conjured the portal and stepped through, letting it close behind me. I was fuming now. How dare he impose on all of our privacy and then accuse us of not being smart to do the same.

I was in my room, pacing out my anger. I knew this was silly of me to let this get to me, but I couldn't help it. How dare he call me dumb! He had no right to those files. They were only for Kori and any of the Justice League members.

Did Kori give him the files?

No, she wouldn't have let that happen. She would have stopped Damian if she ever found out. Damian had to have gotten the passwords and stuff from his father.  He was insufferable!

"Raven?" Kori's soft voice took me out of my thoughts.

I walked over and opened the door to find Kori with a concerned look on her face. I let her in and closed the door behind her.

"I heard your footsteps in the hall. Are you alright?" She asked me.

"No," I mumbled in anger.

"What happened?" She put a calming arm on my shoulder.

"Damian has access to all the files on every Titan." I clench my fists together. "He has been reading on all of us."

"He can't do that. He doesn't have the codes." She tells me.

"He does too. He read up on all of us." I look her in the eyes. "Those files have private things that I haven't told anyone. He doesn't have any right to read those."

She studied my face. "Look, I will talk to Batman." He gave me an encouraging smile. "But if he has read up on you, I think it only fair to read up on him."

"What?"

"Don't tell Dick, but on Tamaran, it is only fair that if someone has a one-up on you, that you even the playing fields." She smiled at me. "If you wish, I can give you Damian's file."

"Really?" I wasn't sure if that is what I wanted, but I was interesting.

"Yes, but you can't tell anyone I gave it to you." She nodded. "I will give you the file after breakfast if you wish."

I nodded.

She left the room, giving me one last encouraging smile. When I closed the door I didn't know if I felt any better. I knew that looking at the files would make us even, but it would also be something that my father would have wanted.

There was another knock at the door. I opened it a crack to see if Kori had forgotten something, but it wasn't her.

"I am sorry." He said, pushing the door open wide enough for him to step in.

"Come on in," I said sarcastically, closing the door.

"Look, what I said... I didn't mean it like that." He walked over to my bookshelf and started to look at the collection of books I had created over the years.

"Damian, please go," I asked him.

"Look, I am sorry. I was angry. I am not sure why, but I said those things from anger." He turned his head to look at me.

"So it's not true. You haven't read all the Titan's files?" I questioned.

"No, I have." He nodded. "But you are not dumb for not looking at them yourself."

"Damian, those files are only for the Justice League, they are not for you!" I came closer to him, giving him a piece of my mind. "There are things that some teammates don't need to know about each other!"

"That is not what I was raised to believe." He said a matter of factly.

"I don't care if you were raised to kiss cows!" I point at him in the chest. "You making that choice to invade our privacy is not 'cool' and very unwelcome."

"I am sorry..." He began.

"Save it!" I held up my hand, stopping him. "I don't want to hear it. You are just like my father and invading personal space. If I wanted you to know something, I would have told you!"

I stepped back.

He stepped towards me. "That is not my intention."

I turned so I didn't have to look at him. I heard him sigh in frustration at me.

"Look, I am sorry. I did it a long time ago when I first join the Titans. I haven't looked at them since.  I do have picture memory, so I apologize, but I have changed from the boy I was when I first came." I felt his hand on my shoulder.

I knew I was supposed to be anger at him and push away his touch, but his hand felt warm and welcome. I leaned into his touch for a moment before I realized what I had just done.

I turned to look at him, and our eyes met.

"Raven, I am sorry." He bent down so our eyes were at the same height. "I only brought it up today because I wanted you to admit you were hurt, but I didn't mean to hurt you."

"I am not so angry about that as... mortified," I admitted.

"Mortified?"

"You read my files. The things on there... They are..." I looked away. "My father was ruthless, and what's on those files is proof that I am weak."

"Weak?" He pulled my head up so my eyes met his. "No, Raven, when I read those files I was amazed by your strength. You stood up to your father even after all the things he had done to you. You could have easily been his pawn all your life, but you changed that."

"No..." I began to protest.

"Raven, when I first came on the Teen Titans, the first real call was against your father and the entire Justice League. You stood firm and faced him." His eyes were hopeful. "You are not weak and those files prove that."

"They still have all those horrible things I had done before I took the leap to come here." I protest again.

"Stop it!" He held onto my face, firm. "You are stronger than you give yourself credit for. I don't care what the file says."

I sigh and lean my face into his hands. He is strong and holds me, and a feeling of safety comes over me. When I open my eyes again I give a small smile, which he returns.

"Breakfast?" I ask, pulling out of his hands.

"Yes." He nods and follows me out the door. When we get into the kitchen we sit down and eat our meals in silence. Garth and Jaime are having a fight over who is the best hero to fight in the dead of winter. I tune them out and eat my cereal.

Kori comes in sometime later with a plain folder. She passes it to me when she sits beside me. I take it and hind it under the table. There was no need for Damian to find out about this folder now.

I ate the rest of breakfast in silence and when I am finished, I head up to my room with the folder. When I get inside I look down at the cover of the folder. I don't really want to look at this now, but something is telling me to hold on to it.

I put it in the top of my desk drawer and put it out of my mind. Damian might have looked at everyone else folders, but I don't want to be like my father and read it for vengeance. I don't need to.  

*********************************

Bonus (This takes place in the future of this same storyline)

I teleport into my room, exhausted from the workout Dick put me through. When I got into my room, there was a certain green-eyed boy in my room. I bushed my hand on his shoulder and went to my dresser for my clothes.

I pulled out some PJs and turned to Damian, who had yet to acknowledge me.

"Damian?" I stepped closer to him, looking over his shoulder to see what he was looking at. He had a yellow folder in his hands. Oh shit!

"What's this?" He turned up to look at me.

"Um..." I was at a loss for words.

"This is my file." He stood up and looked at me. I was mortified.

"Yes," I said, not able to look him in the eyes.

"Why do you have my file?" He questioned. "How did you get this?"

"Well, um..." I glanced up at him. "Kori might have given it to me when we had that fight a while back about you reading my file."

"That was like three months ago." He looked down at the folder in his hands. "You read this three months ago?"

"No." I look up at him. I didn't want him to get the wrong idea. "I haven't read it. I didn't want to."

"Why didn't you?" He looked surprised.

"It would be something my father would have done." I didn't want to hold anything back from him. "I kept it for god knows why, but I promise I didn't read it."

He looked at me in silence for a minute, debating something. Probably to yell at me or kill me. Damian had every right to be angry, he did, but I hadn't even thought about the folder in so long, and I was already so tired.

"Alright." His voice pulled me from my downward spiral.

"Alright?" I asked.

He handed me the file. "You were quite angry about me reading your file. And I don't want to hold anything back from you. You may read my file."

I looked down at the folder and up to him. "What?"

"Raven, I don't want to hide anything from you. I like you, and if you would like, you may read this file. I will answer any questions you may have." He nodded and walked over to the bed, laying down.

I walked over and looked down at him. He looked relax.

"Why?" I didn't understand.

He grabbed my arm and pulled me close to him. "I like you, Rachel Roth. I don't care if you know what is in that file. I want to be honest with you." He pulled me for a kiss.

When our lips touched it was like our first kiss all over again. I had been with this boy for a few months but lived with him for years and somehow this boy still managed to sweep me off my feet and surprise me.

I loved him.

[randomshyperson]

Wanda Maximoff x Reader - Land of Thieves #ChapterOne

Western/ Red Dead Redemption AU / Slow Burn / childhood best friends to lovers 

Gif is not mine.

Read on AO3 (English Version) 

Ler no AO3  / “Terra de Ladrões” (Versão Português)

Chapter warnings: explicit language, explicit violence. 

Word count for this chapter:  4002K

Summary:  When you were a child, you swore that no matter how high the reward in your head, she could always count on you. Life as an outlaw in the west is not easy, but you believe that train robberies are still easier than asking a pretty girl to dance. Land of Thieves, also know as your love story with Wanda Maximoff in the Wild West.

Pt.1 || Pt. 2 || Pt. 3 || Pt.4 || Pt.5 || Pt.6 || Pt.7 || Pt.8 || Pt.9 || Pt.10 || Pt.11

You were covered in mud and blood when you entered the saloon. Curious and judgmental eyes turned to you, but you didn't stare back. Stretching your back, you felt your whole body ache; the recent beating was sure to leave marks. Walking over to the counter, you threw three gold coins onto the wood, muttering in a mumbled tone "bath" to the saloon keeper. He nodded slightly, showing you the way to the restrooms. As you washed up, you grumbled against the recent cuts, but you were happy to know that you hadn't been shot. Your body ached, but without bullet wounds, you would be better in no time. A pretty girl who worked in the saloon smiled at you when she took your muddy clothes to wash them, and you looked away blushing helplessly. She handed you new clothes before she left. When you finished your shower, you put on the white silk shirt, and beat-up jeans that were handed to you. The boots were not new, but they were comfortable. You also put on spurs, but they didn't give you suspenders, so you left the shirt loose against your body, enjoying the lightness. Attaching your holstered belt to your waist, you checked to be sure your Schofield revolver was clean and locked before you holstered it. You walked to the top floor of the saloon, ignoring the curious glances cast at you on the way. You hoped that no one would recognize you from the reward posters, but you weren't so sure about that, since your face was quite exposed without your hat, which must now be somewhere lost in the middle of New Elizabeth, or on some thief's head. Whistling softly, you walked to the saloon balcony, watching the town below. Valentine is a ranching town, small and not very crowded. Lots of pedestrians, you observe. You light a cigarette as you watch the citizens go about their mundane lives, many opportunities passing before your eyes. You let your gaze wander to the town bank, a few meters ahead on the right of the saloon. You notice that security is low. Making mental notes about everything you could observe from there, you put out your cigarette, returning to the lower part of the saloon, toward the counter. - A whiskey and a beef stew. - You grumble, handing the bartender some coins. He nods in agreement and in a few minutes you get your meal. While you are sitting at the farthest table in the room, you listen attentively to the conversation of two men at the poker table, who have caught your attention. - My cousin saw the carriages in Saint Denis. Four horses in each, and he said that the riders were armed to the teeth." - The skinny man commented excitedly, his friend didn't look so happy. - Those damned bankers are like pests of the soil. You saw what happened to that southern town, I think it was called White Gate. - commented the man with the mustache, his expression frowning. - After the oil ran out, everybody lost their jobs. Stark closed the mine and the citizens began to starve. Almost everyone moved to the neighboring towns. Stark. The name was not strange to you, but you could not tell exactly where you had heard it before. You finished your stew, deciding that Steve would want to know about both the bank and the possible rich men who were visiting the town. Finishing your whiskey in one gulp, you stood up, leaving the saloon just as you collected your freshly washed clothes from the same woman who had brought them. It was hot and humid outside. Knight, your Hungarian half-breed horse, grunted with delight when you stroked his mane. You smiled at him before you mounted. You rode south, figuring you would have no trouble finding the new camp site, and trying to remember Bucky's instructions about where exactly they were. It took some time, but you finally found the camp. You dismounted Knight as you entered the area between the trees, walking calmly to the largest tent. Steve Rogers was like a father to you. When your birth parents died of cholera, you ran away from the orphanage the government put you in, and started living on the streets. You were only seven years old, but you were smart enough to hide in one of the garbage carts when the nuns weren't looking, and you ran away because you couldn't stand being beaten by the older children and your own teachers. You ended up somewhere in West Elizabeth, and while trying to steal some food, you were chased by two officers. But just as they were about to catch up with you, someone knocked them out. You smiled when Steve held out a big piece of bread and water to you. From that moment on, you lived with him. The Avengers gang became your family. Steve took care of you, and trained you as an outlaw. You learned everything that was essential to survive in the Wild West, from hunting to murder. And as the years passed, other people joined the gang, and you accepted them all as your family. When Steve saw you, he smiled tenderly, wiping the sweat from his brow with a handkerchief as he motioned for you to enter the tent. - So, kiddo, what did you find out in Valentine? - asked the man as you sat down in the opposite position, on a wooden chair. - They have a poorly protected bank. - You shrugged. - But you know how these small towns are, the risk is almost always not worth the gain. - That's too bad, we need money. Especially to buy medicine. You let out a low exclamation of agreement, you knew exactly how difficult the situation was. It had been a particularly difficult season for the gang. With Fury's death at the last service, and the move out of town to get away from the officers, you were still facing a wave of illness. Carol and Bruce had been feverish and bedridden for days, and Thor had been shot during an unsuccessful robbery. - I overheard an interesting conversation, though. - You say, and Steve looks at you curiously. - Some rich people are coming to Valentine in a few days. The name Stark was mentioned, have you ever heard of it? Steve's eyes widen in surprise and excitement. - Of course I have! - he exclaims. - Filthy rich folks there! Rich enough to lend us a little money without even noticing. - I think Stark is going to buy the oil mines at Heartlands. And he's staying in Valentine while he does the negotiations. - That's excellent. - Steve says, running his hand along his chin in a thoughtful expression. - If the deposit is made in Valentine, we will have the purchase money first hand. You nodded. - But even if the deposit is made here, the money is sure to be transferred to Saint Denis. - You retort, trying to think of all the details of the scam. - Which means that we have to steal the money the same day it is deposited, or we only stand a chance during the transfer. Steve stood up, walking around the tent with the same thoughtful expression on his face. - No, no. - He began to speak as if the alternatives were rapidly forming in his head. - The carriage will be extremely protected. In the gunfire, we can be very worried about not getting killed, which will give them a chance to escape to the city. And then we'll have no way to reach them there. You sighed, knowing that he was right. You frowned, trying to think of something, but Steve soon spoke again. - We need to do this while the money is in the bank. And we have to do it fast. - He says, and then walks to the edge of the hut, looking around the field. He whistles, attracting the attention of Peggy Carter, who is chopping wood, and when she raises her curious gaze to him, Steve beckons her to join him. - What is it, Rogers? - Peggy asks gently. You exchange a smile with her. - We've got a new hit. - He says, making room for Peggy to join you. - Is Bucky around? - He went out hunting a few minutes ago. The twins went with him. - Peggy says and you rest your face on your own hand, waiting for Steve to speak again. - Oh right. I'll explain the details to them later. - The blond man says, walking around the cabin to the table in the opposite corner, and he takes a pen and paper and begins to write down what you think of as a rough draft of the plan. - We will rob Valentine's bank then. - I thought that banks in small towns were not worth the risk. - Peggy commented with a slightly confused expression. - Ah, but we have a unique opportunity. - Steve remarked, bringing the doodle over to Peggy. - Howard Stark, big oil guy, is going to buy the Heartlands mines. The purchase money will be deposited in Valentine before being transferred to Saint Denis. I believe we will have about a few hours to rob the bank - Steve, are you sure this is a good idea? - Peggy assumed a worried posture. - We are short on snipers... - It's a great idea. - He interrupts, looking at Peggy seriously, but still maintaining a calm tone. - We need the money, Peggy. If this is planned correctly, we don't have to worry about the number of weapons. - I appreciate the confidence in my abilities, by the way. - You playfully push your shoulder lightly against Peggy, she smiles at you. - Of course I trust you, Y/N. - She answers, but her gaze is still worried. - We just need to be careful in this job. You spend the rest of the afternoon planning. It doesn't take long for Bucky to join you. He hands a deer carcass to Pietro, who carries it back to the supply hut. Steve repeats the plan, and you let your gaze drift quickly to Wanda, who smiles at you, and you feel something in your stomach drop. Blushing, you look away, turning your attention back to Steve. It is already night when you have finally finished working out the plan. Wanda and Pietro joined you at some point, and you had to mentally repeat to yourself to pay attention to Steve's words and not to the redheaded girl a few feet away. You didn't want your passion to cost your life or put everyone else in danger because you didn't absorb the plan correctly, but you were getting to this level of unfocused. You felt a light tug on your arm as you walked toward the fire, and found yourself smiling wryly as you faced Wanda already looking at you. - I got my first deer today. - She declared, looking up at you with bright eyes, a tone of pride and happiness in her voice. You raise your eyebrows in a pleased expression. - What? That's amazing, Wands. - You replied. - I told you that you would learn soon! I would have liked to have seen it. - We can hunt together. - She says, and you try not to show your nervousness at the thought of being alone with Wanda, but you don't disguise it very well, which makes Wanda confused, and she looks almost disappointed when she quickly adds - Pietro can come with us too. You blink a few times, believing her to be clarifying that she had no intention of spending time alone with you, and swallowing dryly, you nod in agreement. - Yes, yes. Sure, we should call him too. - You say taking a few steps back, hands in your pockets as you stare uncomfortably at the floor. Wanda bites her lower lip lightly, finding you extremely difficult to decipher. You spend a moment in silence, before she speaks again - We can go tomorrow afternoon if you have no business in town. You think about it for a moment, trying to remember if you had made any appointments, if any robbery opportunities had been signaled to you, but you can't think of anything. - No, it's fine. We can hunt tomorrow. - You say, trying not to be too embarrassed by the contented smile Wanda flashes at you. She was probably going to say it was marked, but Pietro interrupted the moment by extending a bowl of stew in front of her face. Wanda blinked a few times in confusion, but thanked her brother as soon as she grabbed the item. Pietro turned to you next, a relaxed posture as he took a sip of the beer he was holding. - What were you two talking about? - he asked, his tone curious. - It's rude to snoop, you know. - You teased, drawing a short laugh from Wanda, and Pietro rolled his eyes stubbornly, but smiled. - We're going hunting tomorrow. I'll show Y/N that I learned how to use the bow on some deer. - explained Wanda, looking at her brother. - Will you come with us? Pietro frowned, denying with his head. - Sorry, little sister. - He speaks seriously, but his eyes have a malice in them that you didn't know how to recognize. - I'd love to join you on your date, but I have an appointment. You and Wanda blush at the insinuation, but Pietro continues with a playful aura as he takes another sip of beer. Although embarrassed, you can't help but be happy to know that you would be spending some time alone with the girl. - Oh, all right. - Wanda says in what seems to be an attempt to sound disappointed, but her eyes sparkle slightly as she speaks. You don't notice, but Pietro smiles at the expression. - You're full of secrets lately. What kind of appointment? Pietro laughs, shrugging his shoulders. He walks toward you with a playful expression, and puts his arm around your shoulders, smiling at Wanda as he leans on you. - Your girlfriend taught me how to play poker and now I am famous, my presence is requested in Rhodes. I need to bet and win some money for this place. You choke slightly on the phrase and feel your face heat up, looking down at the floor. Wanda lets out a nervous laugh, and pushes her brother lightly, making him let go of you. - You mean lose money, don't you? - she teases. - Even Thor plays better than you, and he usually just flips the table. You laugh, risking a glance at Wanda, who has a reddened face and quickly exchanges a smile with you. Pietro rolls his eyes and walks past you, waving goodbye. Deciding that you should eat something, you nod to Wanda that you are going to the fire. She smiles and follows you silently

You didn't hunt very often. Although you were good at it, it was not your function in the camp. You were a gunslinger, and your jobs usually involved carriage robberies and trespassing, even the occasional robbery. You were always part of the team for the big scams. And then Wanda invited you to go deer hunting and you became an anxious mess. Stumbling out of your tent, you hurried to take a quick swim in the creek near the campground. It was important not to smell too strongly when you went out hunting, as the animals could more easily notice you. Coming out of the water with wet hair, you put on your clothes, leaving the suspenders hanging from your waist and a few buttons open on your shirt. You were feeling heated. You waited for Wanda at the campfire. She also bathed before meeting you, and she seemed slightly anxious when she found you. You smiled as you poured some coffee, and Wanda looked a little airy when she accepted the cup. You didn't understand why, but the sight of your relaxed appearance, your loose hair and your exposed collarbone was absolutely irresistible to her, making Wanda feel heated in places that were not appropriate. You joked that soon she would become the best hunter in the camp, and you were happy to make her smile. As you rode out of the camp, you smiled as you felt Wanda lightly tap her foot against yours, as you used to play with as children. Riding in silence for a few minutes, you enjoyed the gentle breeze until you came to a hunting spot. You descended from Knight slowly, stretching your body when you reached the ground. Wanda watched your shirt lift and reveal some skin, then she looked away quickly, her face red. You cast a curious look, thinking she was feeling heat. Grabbing your rifle stored on the horse, you watched Wanda take from Lily's saddle - her red sorrel - a longbow and some arrows. You walked in silence, heading for the shallow part of the creek beside you, where you could easily find deer. It was comfortable to be in Wanda's presence, even in silence. Neither of you had to say anything to know exactly what to do next, your body following her along the way as if you had done this many times before. One look and you knew when to wait, or when to be quiet. It didn't take long before you spotted the deer. There weren't many, and Wanda bent down in front of you to take aim. You watched her with admiration. She raised her bow, and you noticed the slight tremor in her hands and frowned. You came forward, also bent down, and stood beside her. - There's no need to be nervous, Wands. - You whispered softly. - It's just me. The trembling in their hands seemed to diminish, but it was still there. You moved closer, raising your hands to join Wanda's, helping her to keep a steady aim. - Take a deep breath. - You said against her ear, waiting for her to obey. - And then shoot. With her speech, Wanda let go. The arrow cut through the air with speed, hitting the animal straight in the head. A perfect shot. You smiled, and when you looked at Wanda, she was already looking at you. You were about to congratulate her on the shot, but Wanda hugged you by the neck, surprising you. You felt your face heat up and due to the shock, you didn't respond to the hug, your body seeming asleep for an instant. Wanda let you go quickly, her face flushed with apology. You were about to tell her it was okay, and maybe hug her back, then you heard an animalistic noise that attracted your full attention, a low growl that you knew all too well. Glad you had brought your rifle, you looked around, searching for the source of the noise. Wanda blinked curiously, but you didn't look at her again. Standing up, you held the rifle with both hands, your gaze roaming the surroundings. A moment later, the bushes a few feet away moved, and you watched the creature sneak through the undergrowth, only to run toward you the next second, preparing to jump. The sound of gunfire echoed for a few seconds after the shot. You let out the breath you were holding and watched the panther lying on the ground, just a few inches away from your feet. Wanda looked at you in shock, and you offered your hand to help her up. - Sorry for the scare. - You grumbled, walking towards the panther intent on retrieving the skin, which should be worth a few dozen dollars. - We always have to be careful not to become the prey during the hunt. - How did you hear it? - Wanda asked curiously. - Practice I guess. - You said, kneeling down beside the panther. - Every sound around us is important. - You explained - Pay attention now, for example. Besides my voice, what do you hear? Wanda seemed to think for a moment. - I can only hear water, I think. Maybe birds. - She confesses, you finish cutting the skin off the animal in front of you. - Oh, sorry. - You say quickly. - I forgot that I just drove all the animals away with the noise of the rifle. You laugh to yourself, and Wanda smiles at you tenderly. - Let's go after that deer. I'll teach you to hear the sounds another day. - You tell her as you stand up. Walking over to the dead deer, you observe Wanda kneeling beside the animal, drawing her own knife. - Bucky taught you how to skin? - you ask, watching the firm but still amateurish cut Wanda was giving the animal. - Yes, he told me to skin rabbits before he taught me to cut the deer during yesterday's hunt. - said the red-haired girl focused on the activity. You tried not to blush as you watched a drop of sweat trickle down your neck. - I learned to skin animals from him too. - You commented as you waited for Wanda to finish the task. - I was a little smaller, I think. - I guess it took long enough for us to learn how to hunt, didn't it? - Wanda joked, drawing a smile from you. It was true, hunting had been the last activity Steve and Bucky taught you. For some reason, teaching them to shoot was a higher priority than getting food from the wild. A moment later, Wanda finished, raising the deer leather in the air, showing off her work proudly. You laughed at her expression, signaling for her to step away from the animal. You handed her your rifle, and bent down, grabbing the carcass with both hands and throwing it over your shoulders to carry it to the horse. It was quite heavy, but you concentrated your breathing as Bucky had taught you, and managed to carry the animal to Wanda's sorrel. After placing the carcass on the back of the animal, you grunted when you saw the state of your shirt, completely covered in blood. - What's the matter? - Wanda asked curiously when she heard your sigh. - Pepper made me promise not to come covered in blood to the camp anymore. - You say, rolling up your sleeves. - She told me she would put me to sleep with the horses if I showed up like this again. Of course, she will probably just change my watch shifts, but it will still be a pain to hear the lecture. - You could have told me to carry the deer. - Wanda retorted, looking at you with a mixture of seriousness and guilt. You just smiled. - Don't be silly, I just need to clean up before I go back. - You said simply, and Wanda frowned in confusion. And then she choked in surprise, watching you pull your shirt over your head. You went around her body and towards the creek. It took Wanda a few seconds to snap out of her shock, then she turned her head toward the creek, her face flushed. You rubbed the fabric with your hands, watching the blood drip into the water. You put your shirt aside only to wet your own body, wiping any traces of blood from your skin. Completely oblivious to the shy mess Wanda had become as she watched you wash yourself. Finished cleaning yourself, you wrung out your shirt, getting as much water buildup out as possible. You put your clothes back on, feeling the damp fabric against your skin. Wanda stood in the same place you had left her, and you frowned when you saw her look quickly away from you, her face red. You suddenly felt very embarrassed, thinking that you must have crossed some boundary with her. Coughing awkwardly, you walked toward your own horse. You rode in silence back to the camp, you mentally going over the whole conversation trying to find what you had done wrong that made Wanda so quiet. You were surprised when you heard her singing softly. Smiling without looking at her, you slowed down the speed of Knight's gallop, trying to enjoy the moment to the fullest. Wanda continued to sing the whole way, and you tried to ignore the feeling of butterflies in your stomach

[queenxxxsupreme]

Aftermath (Arthur Morgan x f!reader)

A/N: Here is my masterlist and here is the link to go to if you’d like to be on any of my taglists! My latest rdr2 fic was a Charles fluffy piece called The Chase if you want to check it out :)

Warnings: mentions of falling off a train, hurt reader, descriptions  of wounds and blood, but mostly fluffiness

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: After a heist ends badly, Arthur cleans you up and chastises you for not being more careful. 

***

Your horse came to a stop in front of the hitch post just outside of camp. You paused for a moment to breathe now that you were safe. 

Your heart was still racing from the events of earlier and your hands gripped your horse’s reins so tightly that your knuckles hurt. But that pain was nothing compared to the rest of your body. 

“Need a hand, Y/N?” Lenny asked, tying his horse up and moving towards you. 

“Get me down before Arthur-,” You stopped, the sound of hooves pounding against the earth making your stomach clench up. You knew it was him. 

Lenny helped you down from your horse, catching you as you slipped down from the saddle. You tried to put weight on your left leg, but the pain in your ankle was too much. You nearly collapsed. 

“Easy there, Y/N.” Lenny kept his arm around you. 

Your eyes caught sight of Arthur and John coming into camp. 

“Go, Lenny.” You urged, letting him go and giving him a push away from you. 

“Are you sure, Y/N? You can’t even stand on your own.”

“I’ll be fine, Lenny.” You assured him, leaning against the hitch post for support. “He’s angry and I don’t want him yellin’ at you.”

“Tie ‘er up.” You heard Arthur tell John, no doubt talking about his horse. You couldn’t bring yourself to look in the direction of his voice. 

You took a deep breath and started to make your way across camp to yours and Arthur’s tent. You gritted your teeth together. Your nails dug into your palms from how tightly your fingers were curled up. But you pushed through the pain and kept going. You just needed to make it to the tent before Arthur could make a scene in front of everyone. 

“Y/N!” Susan gasped. “What in the hell happened to you, girl?”

You wanted to shake it off, to tell her you were fine, but you knew if you opened your mouth you’d make some sort of pained sound, something that would alert a certain outlaw that you were more injured than you let on. 

“Don’t let her walk away from you, Mrs. Grimshaw.” Arthur spoke, his voice deep and devoid of the usual teasing tone he had when he spoke towards you. 

“What happened, Arthur?” Hosea moved towards you both, wanting to make sure you were okay. 

You shook your head, still hastily walking in the direction of the tent.

“Y/N!”

You didn’t acknowledge Arthur. 

“Don’t you walk away from me, woman!”

You were so close to the tent, maybe another six steps and then you’d be able to—

A large hand grabbed hold of your arm and he pulled you around to face him. You lost your balance, stepping on to your left leg. You cried out in pain and your knee buckled. 

Arthur caught you, one of his arms wrapping around your torso while the other grabbed your hip. 

“Let me go, Arthur!” You pushed against him, your hands flat against his chest as you tried to put as much space between yourself and him as possible. 

“Don’t be fucking stupid, Y/N. Ya got a busted ankle. Shouldn’t be walkin’ on it.”

“I can handle it my-damn-self!” You protested, still pushing against him. You tried to pry his hands away from you, to break his firm grip on you by grabbing his fingers and pulling away but he wasn’t letting go. 

“Quit being so goddamned stubborn, woman.” Arthur growled through clenched teeth. “Ya just fell off a fuckin’ movin’ train! Stop tryin’ to act so tough!”

“Get your hands off of me, Arthur Morgan!”

“Enough!” Dutch boomed, sending a wave of silence across the whole camp. It was only then that you realized everyone was watching you look like a fool. 

Arthur released you. The second he did, your weight was naturally distributed to both of your legs. You winced and lost your balance, using a crate by John and Abigail’s tent for support. 

Arthur flinched as if he’d catch you, but you caught yourself before he could come to the rescue. 

“Y/N, are you okay?” Dutch asked, a furrow in his brow. 

“M’fine.” You forced through gritted teeth. “Wish people would stop askin’ me that.”

“Looks like you got into a bad fight at the saloon and lost.” Micah commented. 

“I’ll fucking show you a bad fight, you fucking inbreed-,”

“You better watch your mouth-,”

“I might be torn to hell but I will beat your ass into the ground-,”

“Cool it, both of you!” John intervened, stepping in front of Micah. 

“You can barely stand on your own, and you’re covered in blood.” Dutch said.  

“S’not my own.” You muttered, but he didn’t bother to listen to you. “Least I don’t think it is.”

“We don’t need you dyin’ off from an infected wound, Y/N. If you won’t let Arthur help you patch yourself up, have one of the girls do it.”

You nodded, locking your jaw tightly. 

Hosea shooed everyone away, knowing very well you’d pick Arthur. You were thankful that he’d give you guys some privacy. It was hard when the only walls you had in camp were made of canvas. 

“Are ya gonna stop bein’ a stubborn ass so I can help you?” Arthur asked. 

You nodded, keeping your eyes down. 

He moved towards you, carefully scooping you up bridal style. You winced, eyes squeezing shut. The way you were moved created a sharp pain in your ribs. 

Arthur took you to your shared tent and sat you down on the cot. 

“Start taking off your clothes.” He moved away from you and began to unravel the sides of the tent to give you privacy. 

Your hands were too heavy. Your muscles ached. Even the thought of moving brought on pain. You knew very well you wouldn’t be able to undress by yourself. 

Arthur glanced over his shoulder to look at you and saw that you were just staring at the picture of his mother he had framed on the chest next to the cot. 

“Pumpkin?”

“Hm?” You didn’t tear your eyes away from the picture. He could see it in your eyes. You weren’t really there with him. You were in your head. Arthur let out a gentle sigh, rubbing the side of his head, and moved to kneel down in front of you. The movement caught your attention, drawing your eyes to him. 

You took in a little breath, straightening your posture as your eyes focused on him. 

“M’gonna go get some things to clean you up with. Get some of your clothes off so I can see what we gotta deal with okay?” His voice, though deep and rumbly, was sweet and gentle. “Maybe put on your little gown, okay? That way we can see everything without you bein’ so uncovered.”

You said nothing, but you kept your eyes on him, on his lips more specifically. He wasn’t sure if you were actually getting everything he was saying, or if you were still zoned out. 

“Can you do that for me, pumpkin?”

You nodded your head a little. 

He rubbed the outside of your thigh before standing up and leaving the tent. 

You watched him go and for some reason seeing him leave made your heart beat harder and faster. Tears stung your eyes and you quickly brought your hand up to wipe them away. 

The events of earlier that day flashed through your head.

It was supposed to be an easy train robbery. Dutch and Hosea had planned it out with Arthur taking the lead. You joined him with Lenny, John, Javier, and Sean. 

Everything went smoothly until another group of eight men on horses showed up with plans to rob the train themselves. And as luck would have it, you used to run with one of the men. He was anything but a nice guy and definitely not someone you wanted to run into during a heist. 

When Arthur returned to the tent, he found you sitting on the cot hunched forward with your head in your hands. You weren’t changed out of your clothes and it appeared that you were crying. 

He placed the bowl of warm water down on the chest by the cot and put the other supplies in his arms down as well. 

He knelt down in front of you, large hands wrapping around your wrists to pull your hands from your face. Your cheeks were stained with tears and your eyes were red. 

“Are you cryin’ cause I was yellin’ at ya?”

You shook your head. 

“Are you hurtin’?”

You nodded. 

“Where at, pumpkin?”

“Everywhere, Arthur.” You cried quietly. “I-I’m so-sorry.”

“Don’t start that now.” He shook his head. “Won’t do you any good to start apologizin’ while you’re upset like this. It’ll just make ya even more upset. Don’t want ya makin’ yourself sick. Now let’s get you outta these clothes.”

“I-I can’t-Arthur, I’m just-,” You couldn’t seem to form sentences even though you knew what you wanted to say. The adrenaline had worn off and you were exhausted. You just wanted to sleep, but you knew Arthur wouldn’t let you do that just yet. 

“S’alright, pumpkin. I’ll help ya.” He reached up and began to unbutton your shirt. 

You fell silent, sniffling every now and then. 

Once your shirt was unbuttoned, he carefully pulled it off of your shoulders. 

“Shit, Y/N.” Arthur cursed under his breath. With your shirt gone, the bruising on your arms and chest could now be seen. 

There were hand-shaped bruises along your upper arms and a few cuts on the back of your right forearm. Your chest had a long bruise across it too. It was an odd pattern and Arthur couldn’t figure out quite what it was. 

“I-I didn’t….” Arthur reached out to tentatively trace his fingers over the bruising on your bicep. “Did I….?”

“No.” Your voice was raspy. “That’s not from you. There was a man on the train. He caught me off guard. He’s the one who gave me a busted face.”

Arthur pressed his lips together in a firm line. You could see the anger festering behind his eyes. His large hand came up to cup your face, his thumb brushing across the corner of your cracked lips. You winced a little. He apologized softly. 

“What about the one on your chest?”

“There was another feller, he used a metal bar to clothes line me.”

He pulled his hand from your face, eyes lingering on the nasty bruise on your chest. 

“The second I got my footing, I put a knife between his ribs.” 

“That’s my girl.” He praised, making your heart race. 

Arthur reached around you to find the strings to your corset. With one effortless tug, the corset loosened and you took a breath. 

“I know you’re happy to be outta that.” Arthur tossed the corset to the foot of the cot. “Ya think you could stand so we can get your jeans offa ya?”

“I can stand on my right, but not my left.”

“I’ll be on your left. You lean against me. How about that?”

You nodded. Arthur stood up and helped you to your feet. You slipped an arm around his shoulders, grabbing a fistful of his jacket to brace yourself. He put an arm around you too. 

“How am I supposed to get my jeans off when I got one arm around you and you got one arm around me?” You asked him. 

He paused for a moment and you watched as he thought about it. 

“Well, I gotta hand and you gotta hand. Why don’t we use ‘em both?” He suggested. 

You giggled. 

It took some effort, but the two of you worked together to unbutton your jeans and get them down. 

Arthur nearly had a heart attack when he saw the cut on your thigh. How did he not see it before? 

“Jesus Christ, Y/N.”

“M’fine, Arthur.”

He got you into your nightgown and then sat you back down on the bed. 

He started with the thigh wound, cleaning the dried blood and then wrapping a bandage around your leg. From there, he looked down at your ankle. A bruise had already formed and around the joint was swollen. 

He sighed out, then turned his attention to the bowl of warm water. He dipped the clean rag into the water and rung it out. His eyes flickered up to your face. He paused for a moment. 

Your nose had been bleeding but now the blood was smeared across your cheek, dried. Bruising trailed from underneath your eye down to your cheekbone where a cut was from a fist. Your lips were busted and split open. The corners of your eyes were black and blue. Your nose didn’t look broken, so that was good. 

He let out another sigh. You knew he was trying to keep his emotions at bay. 

“I…. Arthur, m’sorry.” You whispered, your voice breaking from how quiet you were. 

He shook his head. His jaw ticked as the muscle tightened. He was gritting his teeth together. 

“How could you be so stupid, Y/N? Told you to wait for Javier or John. I knew there were men coming but you didn’t listen.”

“You would’ve done the same.”

“But I wouldn’t’a been thrown from the goddamned train.”

“You don’t know that.” You mumbled under your breath. 

Arthur took hold of your chin, turning your head so you had no choice but to look at him. 

“Don’t get that way with me, pumpkin.” He started to wipe blood from under your nose. “You could’ve died today. I…. I could’ve lost ya.”

You fell silent. 

He cleaned the blood from your face, using soft, gentle brushes with the rough rag. 

“Arthur? Y/N?” Mary Beth spoke from outside of the tent.

“It’s alright, Mary Beth.” Arthur dipped the rag into the water. “You can step in.”

You looked to him then down at his chest. 

“Just wanted to bring Y/N some supper. Thought maybe she’d be hungry.” Her eyes found you and she gasped softly. “Oh, Y/N. You….” She trailed off. 

“I’m okay.” You assured her, offering her a little smile.

“Thank you, Mary Beth.” Arthur took the bowl of soup from her and placed it down on the chest by the cot. 

“Is there anything I can do for you?” She asked softly.

“Get me some fresh water in this bowl please, would ya?” Arthur asked her. 

“Of course.”

As she slipped out of the tent, Arthur returned his attention to you. 

“The man who threw me over….” You started, but trailed off, unable to finish. 

“I’m gonna find him and kill ‘em.”

“No, Arthur.” Your eyes widened as you looked up at Arthur. “Please. You-You have to promise me never-to never go after him. I’m-I’m fine. Just a little beat up is all.”

Arthur furrowed his brows together. 

“Do you…. You know that feller, don’t you?”

“Used to run with him.” You answered quietly. “He’s not someone you play with, Arthur. He’s worse than Micah.” 

Arthur sighed through his nose. 

“And you didn’t think to tell me back there that you knew him?”

“It wasn’t really high on my list when we had fellers shootin’ at us, Arthur.”

He rubbed his brow.

“I know you’re mad at me.”

“M’not mad at ya, pumpkin. Just…. I was scared that I was gonna lose you.” 

You turned your head away from him but he wouldn’t let you look away for very long. With two fingers beneath your chin, he turned your head back to him. 

“When I saw you go over the side of that train, I-I fuckin’ lost it. Nearly beat the piss outta poor Lenny ‘cause he was in my way. Couldn’t get to you fast enough.” Arthur shook his head. He brushed a tear from your cheek. “When we finally stopped the train and I found you….” He trailed off. 

“It don’t matter now, Arthur. I’m here.” You reminded him, turning your head to kiss his palm. 

“Yeah, but that’s not the point, Y/N.”

“We got dangerous lives, Arthur. You can’t protect me from everything.”

“I can damn sure try.” He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. “You mean the world to me, pumpkin. Ain’t gonna let shit happen to you. Even if that means I gotta stop you from doin’ stupid shit.”

You smiled a little, leaning forward to tuck your head underneath his chin.

Taglist:  @doggone-cowgirl @winterwolf @lauramb7 @caraqas @bluscryn @krenee1drful @zodiacaldust @nonodino @gabstaroc @cal-lifornication @thefirelordm  

If your name is in italics, it wouldn’t let me tag you :(

[rhysismydaddy]

Prisoner's Game Pt. 2 (Rowaelin)

Part 1

~Rowan~

Rowan didn't think he'd ever been so pissed off in his life.

The only time that even came close was when he lost his first and only court case, but over the years he'd come to live with that.

This though?

This immature, childish, irritatingly clever woman... he had a feeling he'd carry the rage he felt against her until the day he finally died of it.

Although, if he was honest, his returning move had been a little childish, too.

He'd ordered one of the guards to strip her cell of everything except the chess set. Her mattress, the makeshift knife he shuddered to think she'd had in the same room as him, her pillow.

If she wanted to steal his shit, he'd steal hers, too.

He'd also had the guard move one of his pawns forward on the board.

Not the most creative, but he didn't have many options.

What did you take from a woman who had nothing? How did you punish someone who was already serving the longest punishment available?

The bank had seized her assets when she'd been locked up, and the lease on her apartment had long since run out. She didn't have any personal items with her, didn't seem to even care about anything besides making his life hell.

Case in point, when he got home that night, exhausted from dealing with Aelin and spending a long day at the office, he'd discovered her retaliation.

She'd stolen his bed.

The whole goddamn thing, frame and all.

How she'd managed to get it out of a penthouse condo with security not realizing a thing, he had no idea. He knew from experience it wouldn't even fit through the door.

It'd seemed if she was going to be uncomfortable, so was he.

Steaming with anger, he'd showered and flopped on the couch like an idiot, not even able to sleep thanks to the rage she'd worked him into.

She was completely kicking his ass. From the inside of a jail cell.

He hadn't gotten more than a few hours of sleep before giving up on even trying. At six, he'd dressed and driven to Whitehorn and Salvaterre, the law firm he was a partner at.

If he couldn't sleep, he'd at least figure out how the hell she was pulling this shit off.

Looking through her folder, he went through her daily schedule, seeing nothing out of the ordinary.

Eight am wake-up, breakfast, shower, lunch, yard time, dinner, lights out at nine. Between activities, she worked out in her cell or read a book from the run-down prison library.

In the eight years she'd been in prison, she hadn't had a single visitor. Her cousin Aedion--a playboy Rowan couldn't be paid to associate with--delivered a care package on the first of every month.

Strange, considering nothing of the sort had been in her cell.

She'd been in solitary confinement ever since randomly attacking her cellmate a little over a month ago. She was still allowed yard time and meals with the other prisoners, but she was chained at all times.

Also strange, considering Aelin wasn't the type to do anything randomly.

Rowan watched the security tapes he'd strong armed the guards into giving him, going through the past few days to see how she'd gotten out of her cell to rob him.

He watched as she was escorted to the yard, watched as she ate breakfast and lunch and dinner alone, watched as she put herself through vigorous training in her cell.

Days of footage, and he didn't find anything.

Feeling like a bit of a creep, he watched the nighttime footage of her sleeping, but there was nothing out of the ordinary.

She didn't move too much or too little--both of which would indicate it wasn't really her under that thin blanket. There were no attempts to pick the locks in between her wrists and ankles, no digging into the wall behind her toilet.

Nothing.

Which meant someone was helping her.

He could go through the official channels and ask the police for her known connections, but he hadn't reported either of the robberies yet.

Partly because he wanted to deal with her himself, partly because he felt a bit stupid getting robbed from a woman in the most secure prison in the city.

Which means he'd have to go about it a different way.

Grabbing his keys from his desk, he debated how else he could make her miserable, unfortunately finding nothing else he could do to her, no revenge he could get from robbing her tiny little cell.

No, he'd have to try something new.

Maybe he could bribe her into confessing. She didn't have anything right now, but maybe he could give her something to lose.

He'd bring her lunch, force himself to apologize for yelling at her, and just politely ask who her accomplice was.

He thought on it as he rode down the elevator to the garage. It probably wouldn't work, but he didn't know what else to do.

And besides, he knew from experience Aelin didn't respond well to his anger.

Checking his email to make sure he wasn't missing any important meetings, he pressed the button on his car fob, expecting to hear the resounding beep from his designated parking spot.

Except the beep never came.

Slowly looking up, Rowan had to amend his earlier statement.

Now he didn't think he'd ever been so pissed off in his life.

He stormed over to the security booth, hardly refraining from grabbing the man inside and throwing him to the ground.

"Where's my car, Rolland?"

"In your spot, boss," the stout little man replied instantly and surely, snapping his gum and looking at him in confusion. "Haven't seen you drive out yet."

"Yes, exactly. Which is why it's a mystery why it's no longer in it's spot."

Rolland caught up slowly. "You mean... it was stolen? From here? From you?"

Jaw so tight his molars were practically fused together, Rowan growled, "Just let me see the security tapes from this morning."

The guard nodded quickly, eyes nervous as he typed something into the desktop in front of him.

"That's weird," he muttered a moment later, typing faster and sending Rowan a nervous glance.

"What?" he asked, trying to calm himself down with a few of the breathing techniques he'd learned over the years.

"The tapes are gone, but there's... this."

Rolland turned the screen so Rowan could see it, and all the breathing in the world couldn't keep him from slamming a fist into the side of the security shack.

The footage was gone, and on the blank black screen read: Bishop to J7.

He was going to fucking kill her.

~Aelin~

"Enjoy your taxi ride here?" she asked sweetly, leaning back in her chair and crossing her legs.

Rowan scowled at her as he crossed the small room inmates could use to talk to their lawyers. He yanked the chair across from her out, then threw himself into it. "You are such a pain in my ass."

She just shrugged.

He sat across from her, angry and broody, and for a long time, he just stared at her.

Finally he asked, "Why are you doing this, Aelin?"

"I told you. You locked me up for something I didn't do. I want you to be as miserable as I am. It's simple, petty revenge."

Nothing about it was simple, but that was besides the point.

He was quiet for another moment. "Why now?"

She sighed, but she wasn't upset. Truthfully, she'd been waiting for him to ask that question.

"I want to tell you a story."

He stood up suddenly, face exasperated. "I'm not fucking joking around. And I'm not going to let you waste any more of my time."

He made his way to the door, and his dismissal of her pissed her off enough to say, "Sit down, or your car's going off Whigsby Bridge."

He smiled like he'd won their little game. "So you admit you have it."

"Sure," she said casually, honestly not giving a shit about the car.

His brow furrowed. "You're giving up? Just like that?"

"You're a fucking idiot if you think this is about your car, Rowan. But sure, I admit I know exactly where it, and your bed, and your little dagger are being hidden."

He narrowed his eyes. "This conversation is being recorded, and you just admitted to being an accessory to robbery, so-"

"You aren't going to press charges," she cut him off, pulling a cigarette out of her pocket and lighting it.

Nasty little prison habit she'd developed, smoking.

Or maybe she just did it because she knew he hated the smell.

"Oh, really?" he asked incredulously, eyeing the cigarette with disdain.

She grinned. "Once you sit and hear my story and realize I'm telling the truth, you're going to feel so guilty you won't even care about the car. Now sit down. I'd hate to see a classic get totaled because you're being stubborn again."

He glared at her, but came back to the table and sat down again.

Then reached over and snatched the cigarette from her lips, putting it out against the steel table top.

She just pulled out another, lighting it with one of her last matches. The irritation on his face made it worth the loss.

He waved a hand as if to say Get on with it.

She'd debated how to tell him this story for a long time. It was long, and messy and not particularly pleasant for her. But she wanted him to know the full thing, so she'd decided to start at the very beginning.

"My parents died when I was four," she began, ignoring his dramatic sigh. "I went into foster care, and as you can imagine, I was a particularly unruly child."

She smiled at the few memories she had. "I stole from the nuns, snuck out of my room at night and ran through the house, set all the clocks back an hour so we could sleep in. Small stuff. But it irritated them, because they couldn't prove it was me."

"Sounds familiar," he grouched, making her grin.

"I was adopted by Arobynn Hamel a year later."

As she'd predicted, his mouth fell open at that.

Arobynn was the known king of the underworld in Rifthold. He had a hand in every aspect of crime, yet no one could do anything about it because he never committed the crime himself.

His name was revered, so much so no one ever dared to cross him.

"But your record says-"

"That I stayed in foster care until I turned eighteen, I know."

Arobynn hated public records and had a deal with someone in the system that he'd take some of the kids off their hands if they kept quiet about it. Illegal as hell, but he wasn't someone you refused without suffering serious consequences.

It was the perfect crime. No one would miss unwanted kids, and it gave the system one less mouth to feed.

"I didn't know it, but he'd been watching me for a while. He... I don't know, saw something in me. Natural, innocent talent he could work with and turn into something different. He adopted me on my fifth birthday. And then he started training me."

"To do what?" Rowan asked, shoulders tensing.

"Everything," she answered with a shaky laugh, taking a long drag from her cigarette. "Stuff I wanted to learn, like how to pick a lock or walk without making sound. But as I got older, he taught me other stuff. Stuff I didn't want to know."

"How to kill," he finished, picking up on her tone.

She nodded, finishing her cigarette and flicking the butt on the floor.

"I was good," she told him quietly, looking down at the table. "By the time I was fifteen, he said I was the best he'd ever had. None of his other... children could beat me in a fight, not even the older ones who had a hundred pounds on me. And I could steal anything and not leave a trace."

His eyes didn't show an ounce of doubt, and she didn't know how to feel about it. But she kept going anyway.

"I was his favorite. I was his best asset, and I didn't care about anything that would compromise me. I lost my parents, and despite how much he wanted me to, I never loved him. I had no weaknesses. Except Sam."

"Another of his students?" Rowan asked, and it wasn't lost on her he said students instead of children.

She nodded. "We were adopted around the same time, grew up together. He was a year older, and whenever I had a problem, he was the one I'd turn to. He was good to me, and by the time I was seventeen, not a small part of me loved him."

Aelin broke off and took a deep breath, wishing she had another cigarette and trying to figure out how to put into words how much he'd meant to her.

"Was?" Rowan asked, so softly and quietly and understandingly that she was reminded of the man he'd once been, the one she'd loved.

Shaking her head to clear it, she said, "He made a mistake. He went on a job; he was supposed to break into one of the underground casino's owned by Arobynn's competitor and memorize the ledger, but he got caught. It was messy and horrible and stupid, and the owner wanted blood. Arobynn promised he'd kill Sam as retribution."

Rowan's eyes widened, almost like he hadn't realized how brutally she'd been raised until that moment.

"I begged him not to. Sam had saved me and helped me so many times that I couldn't not do the same for him. I told him I'd do anything."

She studied her hands, regret and guilt thick on her skin. "Arobynn said if I took ten of the jobs Sam was supposed to do, he wouldn't kill him. I thought they'd be similar to the one he'd messed up on, small break-ins or robberies. So I accepted."

A tear rolled down her cheek, and she batted it away as she continued, "The second I shook his hand, Tern--another of Arobynn's--shot Sam in the head."

Rowan's face blanched so quickly, she thought he might pass out.

He started to say something, but she spoke faster. "I... snapped. I killed Tern, tried to kill Arobynn. You called me a murderer, and that's true. I am, and I don't regret it. Tern was a sadistic bastard, and I'm glad he's dead. And one day, I'll kill Arobynn for what he did."

Rowan shook his head, confusion and shock and something similar to pity in his eyes. "Why didn't you leave, run away?"

She leveled a look at him. "I didn't exactly have a choice, Rowan. My punishment for Tern lasted for over a year."

There was a long pause.

"Punishment?" he asked in a breathless voice that made something in her chest hurt.

She looked at the table again, skin pebbling at the memory of that year. "He locked me in a cell in the basement, in the dark. Once a month he'd come in to ask if I knew someone named Sam. It took me ten months to get confused, another three to say no."

Still not meeting his eyes, she looked at his hands, noticing they were clenched so tightly the knuckles were white. And a part of her, buried under all the rage and resentment and sadness, warmed at the thought that he was... he was angry for her.

"It took me a long time after to figure out what was real and what wasn't. But Arobynn never let me forget our deal. And right before I met you, he told me the first job."

"What were the jobs?"

Aelin looked back up at that, the air thick between them as she said, "You already know."

"The murders."

She nodded, somehow managing to keep her spine straight despite the feeling of a hundred pound weight being lifted from her shoulders.

He at least knows why now, she thought to herself.

It was one of the things that had bothered her over the years. That he didn't know why she'd done what he thought she'd done. That he thought she'd.. wanted to do it.

He was silent for a long time, just watching her with a carefully emotionless face. "Thank you for telling me that," he said eventually. "I never could understand why."

Then he stood and walked to the door again, and it was only when his hand was on the handle she spoke again. "You asked why I'm doing this, and why I'm doing it now."

He opened the door but paused. Waited.

"It's because I tried to tell you this all those years ago, and you didn't care. You just assumed I was guilty because the evidence looked like it."

She spoke around the lump in her throat. "I told you I didn't kill those people, Rowan, and you didn't even care."

He spun around, slamming the door so hard it rattled, and in a split second, he was in front of her. A hand on the table, the other on her chair, he leaned down and got in her face.

He was so angry, so unbelievably enraged she couldn't believe it. He was angry?

"I didn't care? I didn't fucking care, that's what you think? Watching you get dragged away in cuffs was the worst moment of my life, and you think I didn't fucking care?"

Shock hit her like a bucket of ice water.

That moment was crystal clear in her mind, and she couldn't put what he was saying with what she knew.

He'd watched her with that same expressionless face, with cold eyes that had haunted her ever since.

She opened her mouth to say something, but he wasn't done.

"I fucked loved you! I thought you were the love of my life, Aelin. I begged you to tell me something that would help, tell me anything. But you didn't! You just kept saying you were innocent; you didn't give me anything to actually work with."

"I-"

"I found that stupid fucking list five days before I reported it, did you know that?"

She shook her head, because she hadn't.

"Exactly. You don't know what the hell you're talking about," he growled, eyes flashing. "I spent five days investigating it myself, trying to make sense of why you'd know those names. After your arrest, I spent two weeks trying to find anything, a single piece of evidence, that said it wasn't you. And after the trial, I spent another two months trying to poke holes in my own goddamn case."

He slammed a hand into the table. "I did everything I fucking could! I was desperate for it not to be you. I argued my case so your lawyer could plead circumstantial evidence. I put you on the stand so you could say anything you wanted. I went for life sentences instead of the death penalty to give you time to actually tell me what the hell was going on!"

She was breathing heavily, heart breaking and reforming over and over again at what he was saying, what he was implying.

"I didn't assume shit," he said in a low voice, so close they shared air. "You didn't tell me anything."

Aelin's voice trembled as she croaked, "I tried."

He shook his head, letting out a breath of amusement. "No, you didn't. If this past week has proven anything, it's that you don't try to do anything, you do it. You didn't tell me anything, Aelin. You're still not telling me anything."

"I'm telling you to look again! I'm telling you you didn't look hard enough, because I left breadcrumbs only you could find, breadcrumbs that explain everything."

"Stop playing games with me!" he shouted, eyes flashing with a fresh wave of anger. "It's been eight years! Stop holding onto whatever secret you're holding onto and just tell me!"

Gods, she wanted to.

He was the one person she couldn't trust with this secret, this stupid, most important secret, and yet he was the also the one person she wanted to tell it to.

She opened her mouth to tell him, but what came out was, "I didn't kill them, Rowan. I promise I didn't kill them. I can't... I can't tell you anything else."

"Jesus, Aelin," he spat, pushing off the table and turning to leave.

"Just look into it," she called after him, fingers digging into the table to resist the urge to try and follow him. "I promise you can figure everything out, and you'll understand everything. Please."

She knew why, after all this time, it was so important for him to know the truth when that hadn't been her original plan.

It was because she'd spent eight years believing he hadn't tried, believing she hadn't been a good enough person for him to even look into the possibility it wasn't her.

And maybe it was because he was once again leaving her, or maybe it was because she felt like she was in that courtroom again, begging him to believe her, or maybe it was because of something she didn't even understand yet.

Regardless of the reason, she found herself saying, "I loved you, too, you know."

He looked at her with sad eyes that she was sure mirrored her own and shook his head. "Not enough, apparently."

"You don't believe that," she argued, shaking her head and trying to keep the building emotions down.

"If you'd loved me, you would've told me. You would've given me the proof, whatever breadcrumbs you're talking about. You wouldn't have let me watch them take you away."

"Rowan-"

"You wouldn't have thought, for a second, that I didn't try to fight for you. And you sure as hell wouldn't have waited eight years to do whatever it is you're trying to do."

"I had to," she whispered, even as she knew it wouldn't be enough.

She shook with the effort to not tell him everything, but even after all he'd told her and how everything had changed, she just couldn't. Not yet.

He stood at the door, watching her with those eyes she'd once thought looked like the most beautiful emeralds. "Sometimes I think about it, you know. What life would be like if I hadn't tried to fix your sink in the middle of the night."

She smiled sadly. "Me too."

Rowan shook his head, gaze taking in her face like he thought he'd never see her again.

He thought it was over now, she realized. He thought that now she knew he hadn't given up on her immediately, now that she'd told him the story she'd wanted to tell him, that it was over and she'd give up.

"Look again," she whispered. "You know I didn't do it. It's why you're here, why you kept looking after the trial ended. You know I wouldn't."

"Goodbye, Aelin," he said instead, not telling her any of the things she really wanted to hear.

It wasn't until the door shut behind him she finally let herself cry.

She'd told herself that it didn't matter; that in a month the truth would come out and everything would be normal again.

She'd told herself she was only messing with Rowan for revenge, not because she wanted to see him again or test that he'd find the clues she'd left for him.

She'd told herself this was just a game.

She'd told herself all sorts of things that turned out to be lies.

~~~

Part 3

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