#I need to fuck hosea so bad. sorry who said that

[im-am-not-a-weenie]

The gang with a reader who gets taken by the O’Driscolls. Also, I am very excited to find someone who writes for Red Dead! I love your writings! 💖

Omg thank you, getting this request made me so happy lol sorry it took A while to finally get to life’s been crazy I’m just gonna do how they react to the news and how they save you (only happy endings for our cowboys) if you want a more detailed version I’d be happy to write it 🤠

Not beta read

🍓The gang when the reader gets taken by the O’Driscolls🍓

Arthur,John,Sean,Hosea,Dutch

GN reader

See end for a/n

🍓Arthur Morgan

As soon as he hears the news he immediately thinks it’s his fault. How could he let someone get to you 

He starts to assume the worst “what if I’m too late.” or “it’s my fault I shouldn’t have left them alone.”

His next reaction is to go out and get you, not thinking about the consequences or what could happen to him. He just needs you to be ok

Hosea has to step in and be the voice of reason “you couldn’t have known Arthur, I know you love them but we can’t just go in there guns a-blazing we need a plan”

After they get you back the first thing Arthur does is hug you, being gentle just in case you were hurt.

“Arthur baby it’s ok I’m not gonna break.” “I know doll, just let me hold you for awhile.”

And you let him. You find yourself cradling his head in your hands and wiping away a few tears (ok it’s a lot of tears but you’re crying to)

“It’s ok Arthur I’m back I’m not going anywhere.” “Damn right you’re not you aren’t leaving without me every again”

And you’re ok with that

🍓John Marston

John doesn’t know what to do at first. He sits there in shock for a couple of minutes.

He probably would’ve stayed there longer is Arthur hadn’t snapped him outta it

“Hold what exactly happened” “I’m sorry John it was a job gone bad, we didn’t know they were waitin for us we were ambushed.” “Are they?” “Alive yes, we’ll get them back John I promise”

And get you back they did

I don’t think the others have seen John so focused on a job

“John you should probably get some sleep, and when was the last time you ate.” “I’m fine Dutch.” “Ok son, don’t worry we’ll get them back”

When they do get you back you can’t pull John off of you, literally like for the next three days they have to pull it off of you

Everyone just got tired of it and just decided leave him be, not that you mind

Everyone else might not know it but John has always been a cuddle bug it just took a traumatic event to show it publicly (but that’s neither here nor there)

“John, sweetheart I’m not going anywhere.” “And you won’t be for like….the rest of your life”

🍓Sean McGuire

Sean is heartbroken all he says and First is “oh” and walks off it’s not that he doesn’t care but it’s that he needs to process

Arthur fines him starring of into space with a lost look in his eyes, he and the rest of the boys have never seen Sean so effected by anything

The one who was always smiling and laughing and probably the loudest was a broken mess on the ground

“What happened out there Arthur.” “honestly I couldn’t tell ya Sean, we were walkin in town they said they needed to grab something from the store and all I heard was the scream before they got ‘em.“

“We’ll get her back Sean.” “We better, them O’Driscolls are going to feel all the pain they’ve felt and more”

They find you passed out, gaged, and tied up in a chair in the corner

You think you’re dreaming at first, the voice bringing you back to conciseness couldn’t be your Sean you struggle to try to open you’re eyes

You felt a hand on your face caressing your cheek you jerk trying to get it off

“Don’t fucking touch me you dirty bastard” “shhh, lass it’s ok it me you don’t have to fight anymore” “Sean?”

He holds you the hold ride back and them some. Trying to help you with the aftermath and trauma you most likely gained (unless ur built different) every time he gets up you hold on tighter

“What’s wrong?” “What if they take me again Sean? “Don’t worry love, you’ll never be taken away from me I promise”

And that a promise you can trust

🍓Hosea matthews

His calm and collected demeanor is gone, well not totally he still wants to get you out as soon as possible but also as safely

He goes into action mood, he moves so fast no one else has time to question or process

“Hosea let’s just think about this more a moment.” “I did think about it Dutch and getting them sooner is better than later.” “Now let’s just-“ “damnit Dutch I’m going to get them now it’s up to you if you wanna come with me or stay here”

The whole gang pitches in on this one because no one dares to say no to angry Hosea or get in his way

The gang works quick and quietly Hosea is all rage until he finally sees your face you only had a few bruises but he will worry that at camp he just wants to get you home

As soon as you have your arms around him you’re sobbing and pulling closer or as closer as you can possibly get

He’ll hold you close too and gives you what you need he rubbed circles on your back and tries to calm you don’t be let’s be honest he’s crying too

“Shh it’s alright love, I got you…that’s right deep breaths, can you do that for me baby c’mon breath with me” putting your hand in his chest so you can match his breaths

As You start to calm you can hear his praises “There you go love that’s it”

you look up to meet his eyes

“Hi.” “Hi love.” “Thanks for coming to get me.” “My dear i’d fallow you too the ends of the earth.”

🍓Dutch van der linde

The news hits Dutch the hardest

He starts to panic, he can’t lose someone to the O’Driscolls again

He starts pacing and muttering as he’s walking back and forth he starts to fidget with his hands

The gang hasn’t seen their leader like this it makes the rest of the group nervous too

 “Dutch if you keep that up you’ll start to run yourself into the ground.” “Huh?”

He hasn’t noticed the pacing what felt like seconds was actually minutes. 30 to be exact he decides it’s time to do something. Time for a great Dutch van der Linde speech

“All right gang as you know a tragedy that has struck today, we can sit here and think about the worse OR we can go out there and show those O’Driscolls what happens when they mess with us”

Of course everyone was with Dutch

When they found you the first thing Dutch did was grab you and lift you up in an tight embrace spinning you around

“Dutch baby.” “Yes dear?” “I can’t breath”

He immediately let you go well not totally but he let up a bit

You reach up to cradle his face in you hand to which he immediately lent into the touch . You wipe a tear from his face telling him how you’ll never leave him again to which his response is

“And I you”

🍓Hey everyone I’m so sorry if this absolutely sucked lol but I tried it’s been awhile since I posted or wrote anything but I wanted to put something out again sorry but this was not beta read so I apologize for the grammar and spelling errors, also thanks for all of the well wishes and I hope to start posting regularly again and finish everyone’s requests love you all-Rhys🍓

[bombshelllblonde]

hiiihihii!! im backkkk to tell u abt my rdr playthough bc im bored asf haha

¡love this game omg!! the graphics, the story, the details UGH!!!!

hunting is actually so fun for no reason- i bought so many fancy ass guns too 😭

also my play type whenever i play ANY story game thats open world is to do every possible thing every except the actual story so i get a bunch of stuff and then its so muvh easier

in short i have 6000+ dollars 😋

bonus of exploring everything is i got thw white arabian and i love her sm ‼️‼️ i named her pearl and she is my baby

dress up is my seconf favorite hobby

my fav outfit rn is the red vest w the floral pattern on the front (i forget what its called) n the black french dress shirt underneath + the bison necklace talisman

(also arthur w medium-long length hair n short facial hair>>>)

this game is so detail oriented, its kind of insane- im doing a high honor run atm, and i came across the blind beggar for the third (?) time and the blind guy said and i quote

"that is which killing you will finally help you, friend- to hear and see."

is this foreshadowing this feels like foreshadowing

also ik arthurs dies (bc of tiktok edits and fics, they artists in this fandom is amazing!!!) and im not prepared at all 😭 im going to procrastinate so bad 

ALSO CHARLES DESERVES SO SO MUCH I LOVE HIM

yk the hole lil speech he has at the campfire yk "most human beings seem to know why they were born but, for me- its seems i was just mean ton hurt and suffer myself" that one

im bawling istg if he doesnt get a good ending im going to be writing a formal complaint to rockstar games

anyways

tw opinions (ik bro its crazy to have opinions in 2024 whattt no wayy)

ive gotten to the point in playing where im in ch 3, and the only way i can progress the actual story is to help micah rob a stagecoach or whatever

micah is a bastard and i dont like him

him as a character is rlly well written and awesome but,,,,,hes,,,slimy,,and i hate him,,,,so he can wait for a little longer ☺️

my favorite characters rn in no particular order is

arthur (obviously) , charles , sean , javier , tilly , marybeth , and kieran

my pookies ‼️‼️

moving on im so sorry this is so so long 😭 idk anyone who likes rdr irl lmao

anyway hope u have a nice day and no wolves attack you and spoke ur horse who bucks you off a cliff

(in rdr btw)

((true story also))

yo, having 6k in chapter 3 is amazing. good for you!

my first playthrough i got the white arabian and i named her Lemoyne Tree as a tribute to the state of Lemoyne and my favorite post malone song Lemon Tree. But she always got super dirty so i then went to the lake next to Strawberry and tamed the red chestnut arabian. I LOVE LOVE LOVE that one, she's gorgeous and arthur always gets that one when i play it. my beautiful baby girl Diablo <3

also yes. heckin FUCK MICAH BELL. even from the beginning he's been a slime ball. hate that man <3

i won't go too far, but just keep yourself high honor towards the end of the game. you need that to be your first ending. :')

Charles deserves the absolute world. just listening to him speak and hanging out with him at camp, and the missions you continue on to do with him throughout the game are so much fun. charles is someone i wish i could have in my real life because he seems like he would be the best person to speak to and hang out with. he is so lovely and down to earth. even arthur says it a couple times throughout the game. charles gets a good ending i promise.

my top blorbos are Arthur, Dutch, Charles, Hosea, and Josiah Trelawny my absolute beloved <33333 just wait until you go on the mission with Charles to find trelawny. one of my favorite missions ever ever ever ever!!

a lot of people dislike dutch, but i love him so much. he is my actual father. i love him.

i also hate john. let me know how you feel about that little greasy weasel of a man. :)))

i'm so so so glad you're having fun and i am very invested, so please continue to keep me updated on what ur doing because i need to live vicariously through you. if i could erase my entire mind and replay the game over and over again for the first time, i totally would

[reddeadreference]

Blog Update: (kinda) Travel Blog Style

Reminder: Various polls will be closing within the next 24 hours. (see pinned post for links)

Drafts: 61

Queue: 8 (7 POI posts, 1 face angle post)

---

So I was getting the remaining POI entries I need between the two and I have Arthur go to the Hermit Woman... you either have to run off her dogs or kill them. ... I had to kill them. I just survived a bear attack I'm not dying to three dogs.

Arthur hogties the woman, writes in his journal, and as I have him get on his horse to leave he shouts back,

"You take care now!"

Arthur please...

Speaking of bear attacks I'm VERY curious to know if the camp will react in ANY way to Arthur coming back all scratched up so I'm hoping the wounds don't fade til I ride all the way back... to Clemen's Point... from North Big Valley... The blood faded from his coat but the scratch marks are still there.

Had the rude racer come up to us and ask to race down to Owanjila. Said no. He called us a coward and he's very lucky we have places to be.

Autopilot... Crashed into the tree those damn O'Driscoll's cut down to make Arthur and Micah crash that wagon. Why does no one ever fix that?

Just as we reach near Diablo Ridge (near the edge of West Elizabeth) we have to help a guy with a bear trap and I see our bear scars finally fade away from our back... now we only have the face scar... gotta hurry if I wanna show camp.

Just as I see camp in the distance... face scar is gone. Mission Failure.

...

Walking towards where Micah's at the fire, bear pelt over my shoulder.

Me: Micah I fought a bear and won, look, look!

Micah makes some noise, laughs, "got ya there."

Arthur: Just name the place my friend. Just name the place.

Dude... we fought a BEAR and won. Think we're scared of you???

...

Oh to be as happy as Uncle looks playing the banjo.

...

See's Micah bothering Abigail, beelines for them.

He walks away says "Ladies" to Karen, Tilly, and Grimshaw.

Karen: *happily* Hello!

Me: WTF Karen?!

...

Proceeds to follow him around camp antagonizing him.

He brags about putting money in the box (after fucking teleporting I stg he was behind me)

Arthur: What do you want? A medal?

$25 hm? weeeell.... lemme just put in... $100.

...

Scene comes up where Karen is complaining about Grimshaw, Grimshaw shows up.. with a broom.

The fuck are you out here sweeping, Susan?!

Arthur: *to Karen* My lady.

Karen: Leave it.

What did I do?!

...

As we're leaving camp to head to the Braithwaite place to get a photo of their secret I see Hosea walking away into the woods... with a plate. Where the fuck did he get a PLATE? I thought we only had bowls?!

Then we see him kicking Sean awake (who's supposed to be on guard) and I realize it's for a scene... but then I go over and look via photo mode... plate is gone.

..

Rowing over to the manor and there's a couple sitting on the beach. cute.

I think that's all the things I need for POIs (besides the Grey's secret because for some reason whenever I go to get that entry the paper is gone and neither wrote anything down for it.) so those should be all up within a week.

While I'm out here might as well get some photos for those little islands.

Is there a reason that the music on these fucking things is so fucking creepy at night????

...

If I hit a snake with my boat... it'll be fine right??? . . . It hissed and disappeared but there's no X on the map... but it did a lil flash on the screen... Q-Q I'm sorry Snek.

On the bright side my heath is going up from all this paddling.

got to the sunken/wrecked ship. Never noticed an eagle can spawn at the top of the mast.

So.. just like in real life.. shooting a hole in your boat is a bad idea. Not sure what I thought would happen. In hindsight I should've done this closer to the camp and not... ya know, on the island across from it. That being said if you're ever stuck on one of those islands just set up a camp and poof magically you're back on the main land.

...

Rolled around in the mud to see if I could get Grimshaw to make me wash... she comes up to me... and says they were worried about me Q-Q I didn't think I was gone so long. I just went around the islands for about a day and a half.

Went fishing off the dock

"You sir, are a fish." Arthur is too precious for this world...

[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 :(

[bagelboys-withcreamcheese]

Hosea Matthews x Modern!Reader

~~

@theretherefenton come get your juice

~~

Reader, trying to get out of camp: Where are you going?

Hosea: Hell, eventually.

—

Hosea: What is your favourite mythical story?

Reader: The story of My Will To Live.

Hosea: I don’t think I’ve heard of that one before.

—

Hosea: You are an absolute dork.

Reader, hanging upside down from their horse w/ their foot caught in the stirrup: Yeah, but I'm your dork!

Hosea, sighing while helping them down: Yeah, you're my dork.

—

Reader: I'm bored, any suggestions?

Hosea, reading his book: Sleeping is nice.

Reader: I acknowledge your suggestion, but I’m deciding to ignore it.

—

Reader: What situation is not instantly improved by the addition of fishnets, I ask you?

Hosea: Being a fish.

Reader: Blocked.

—

Hosea: What did you do?

Reader: Nothing!

Hosea: *raises eyebrows*

Reader: Put those back down! I didn’t do anything!

—

Hosea: I have a problem.

Reader: If it's harder than 2+2, I can't help.

—

*working a con*

Reader, talking to Hosea: It’s not that complicated, any idiot could do that.

Dutch: I can do that.

Reader: See?

—

Reader: Some of us are still ‘it’ from a childhood game of tag.

Hosea: Way to just fuck me up on a Tuesday.

—

Reader, with their face smushed up against the window: Oooh, look, a train!

Hosea: We’re sitting inside a train station,

Y/N.

—

Hosea: Oh, fiddlesticks! That really ruffles my feathers!

Reader, exasperated: Please just say fuck.

—

Reader: You’re drunk.

Hosea, clearly drunk: Correction: drinking. Present tense.

Reader:

Hosea: Grammar, Y/N.

—

Reader: Hey, are you okay?

Hosea, who just got done arguing w/ Dutch: Yes.

Reader: You don't look okay...

Hosea: Then stop looking.

—

Hosea: Hey, look, I found a spider. Cool little lad. Thanks for eating the mosquitos.

Hosea: Oh no, where did it go?

Reader, who scrambled up onto the table after hearing ‘spider’: HOSEA WHAT THE FUCK?!

—

*dressing for a con*

Reader: So... uh, for this party and everything, do you, uh...

Hosea, sighing: You don't know how to dress for this, do you?

Reader, panicked: WHAT IS CLOTHES???

—

Dutch: Look, I sort of did something and I need some advice, but I don't want a lot of judgment and criticism.

Reader:

Hosea:

Reader: And you came to us?

—

Reader: Hey, wanna help me commit arson?

Hosea: What the hell!?

Reader: Oh, sorry, my bad.

Reader: *looks around to make sure no ones listening*

Reader, whispering: Wanna help me commit arson?

Hosea, also whispering: Of course. What do you need?

—

Reader: Thanks for not telling Dutch about this.

Hosea, staring at the stagecoach Reader got stuck in a tree: I wouldn’t even know where to begin trying to explain this.

—

Bill: Not gonna lie, I'm kind of afraid of

Y/N...

Hosea: As you should be.

Bill: No, really, they're kind of-

Hosea: As. You. Should. Be.

—

*babysitting Jack*

Hosea: Five little monkeys jumping on the bed. One fell off and…

Reader: Was diagnosed with mesothelioma.

Hosea: Mamma called the doctor and the doctor said…

Reader: You might be entitled to financial compensation if he or a loved one dies.

[marvelous-space-nerd]

My dearest Bee

Hi dear tumblr people! I wrote a thing and I quite like it,,

Summary: Time travel, is, well something. Who would've thought that you would get stuck in the 1800's?? Well here you are, part of the Van der Linde gang, ready to face the past.

First chapter can be read as a stand alone chapter. It takes place a few years after Isaac died. The relationship between the reader and Arthur is platonic. Enjoy!!

ao3

My dearest Bee,

So I hope these letters- I can’t call them letters if they’re in a book right?- Anyways, I hope these will find you, I hope you’re home, safe. I hope you saw your dog again, I miss her. I have a horse now though! Maybe I’ll name her after you, or just wasp. If I remember correctly you weren’t the biggest fan of wasps. But really, I’m not sure if we timetraveld or were transported to another universe where everything just started like 100 years later, the latter case making it a whole lot harder for you to find this. I just really hope you’ll find this against all odds, because I said I’d write to you if I made it. And I did! I guess. After the whole thing blew up some cowboys found me, I think they call themselves the Van der Linde gang? But yeah, they feed me and gave me a bed for the small price of doing some chores. I’d like to do more though, did you know that the 1800’s are really boring even though you can die at any second? It’s spicy but in the wrong way. I’d like you to know though that it’s not all bad here. People are lovely when they’re not trying to shoot you. You should see a campfire evening- hell any evening- here.

Yours always,

(Y/N)

“(Y/N) get off your lazy ass and do the chores we asked you to do!”

“Mister Morgan! No need to yell, I got it perfectly under control. I was just, taking a break, that's all. Everyone who works all day has the right to take a break.”

“Boy as much as we want it workers are exploited ‘till they fall to the ground face first. You however are not so-” He took a deep breath, closed his eyes before speaking agian. Softer this time than the louder tone he was using first. “get to work, please.”

“Fine fine, but-”

“There better leave something good out of that big mouth of yours.”

“Hey that's just rude! But I want one of you lot to teach me anything. I can’t even ride a horse for Christ's sake.”

“I still don’t get how you can’t kiddo.”

“I told you I lost my memory at the explosion, maybe I lost my skills too.” You said avoiding his piercing gaze. Nothing is better at covering up lies than staring at rocks being sad over the skills you’ve lost.

“And we all know about that blatant lie.” Fuck, maybe rocks aren’t good at covering up.

“It isn’t-”

“Boy I don’t give a damn, you could work on your handwriting though, you’re almost worse than John. But fine, when you’re done with your chores I'll teach you to ride.” He said, finally giving in.

“Yay!” You said while doing little hand clapping motion. “I won’t disappoint, I promise. I’m a fast learner!” You said with smiling eyes

“And how’d you find out you were a fast learner boy?” He spoke out as he raised his eyebrows, just enough for you to feel them piercing right through you, poking at all the holes in your lie. You thought you’d last at least a few months, well here you are, exactly one month deep in this shithole being caught red handed.

“Fuck” Is all you managed to cram out while your eyes lost all their focus. You being back in your own mind instead of the wild world.

It made the silence hard. The only sound that of the other gang members and the birds and the bees to give you something to focus on. It’s so hard out here, no amount of scouts will ever prepare one for the real wild.vIt’s much scarier out here. The real wild is the place where you die if you trip over the wrong rock. The scouts will make sure the rock isn’t even there. Every bird will just put down another rock and god I want the silence broken, just as broken as my lie is.

“I know there’s probably a reason you’re not telling us anything.” Athur said, as he moved closer, his eyes smaller. Like they could see right in his head “You can’t hide forever, not who you are.”

“...”

“Use your words boy”

“I’m sorry, Mister Morgan, I don’t know what to say to that.”

“You’ll figure it out, but first geT your ass back to woRK.” His voice became louder this time, I mean this was the third time he asked. He put his hand on your shoulder, shoving you away from your shared tent towards the hay bales you were supposed to move. A bit harder than anyone in the twenty-first century would’ve done, but for Arthur it was just a friendly push.

“I will, I will mister Morgan!” You said trying to act cheerful. Arthur made a “tsk” sound and waved you off, absolutely done, it seemed. You moved to the hay bales that were still in the wagon, ready to be fed to the horses.

The hay bales were heavy, yet they seemed lighter than they were a month ago. Your hands weren’t soft no more and being covered in dirt and dust wasn’t rare anymore. The luxuries that the modern world gave you disappeared the moment you decided that Bee was the one who should go home. One to run to the portal the moment it opens, one to pull the lever and jump through afterwards. Both of you knew that people don’t want you touching their stuff, let alone interdimensional portals or time machines. You knew someone would be quick to show up the moment you turned it on. It was surprising to see the portal become unstable, blinking in and out, in and out of existence. It left you with 2 choices. Option a: jump in it praying it would still transport you back home, back to all you knew not leaving you in the empty pocket of a closed portal. Or option b: run away for the inevitable explosion.

Gods you hated thinking about it. It played and twisted your mind. You couldn’t even talk about it, no accessible therapists in the wild west. And you’d prefer not to tell anyone you’re a helpless time traveler. Stuck in 1895 traveling with a gang of outlaws. A surely unique situation only you could get yourself in. You don’t even remember what you chose. You just remembered waking up surrounded by a bunch of cowboys.

“And how is our newest member doing?” The man's smooth and easy voice was easily recognizable. Dutch Van der Linde. Isn’t it ironic that he has a dutch surname and that his parents called him, well, Dutch. It’s a question that always on your mind, why his parents did that and if it’s iconic or just stupid. Dutch was one of the first people who introduced himself, right after Arthur- who was very inclined on being called Mister Morgan- and Hosea. The trio who showed you the wild west wasn’t all bad.

“Dutch! It is absolutely lovely to see you.” You said while putting the last hay bale down. A little bit of healthy sweat decorating your face. “I am doing absolutely great. Arthur- Mister Morgan is actually going to teach me how to ride a horse when I’m done.” You said while eyeing Arthur. Clearly not being amused with the situation. “Eh, he said yes, it’s his problem now.”

“I’m surprised you got through that thick skull of his!” He said with a smile, each word a little louder than the last. He clapped his hand on your shoulder as he let out a little chuckle.

“I think he likes me even though he won’t admit it actually.” You lied, confidence was half of the battle, as they say.

“I think I don’t you annoying little bastard.” Arthur said, joining the conversation. Dutch clearly talks loud enough to make sure any gossip subject will show up to the gossip. Definitely not the fact that you made eye contact with him “Now get to your horse before I change my mind.”

“Arthur! Oh shit- Mister Morgan! I’ll be there before they can even give me a speeding ticket” You said, maybe it was a bit too modern this time, but isn’t the wild west about living on the edge?

“You speak a strange version of english boy.” Arthur said. “You know how to saddle up a horse right?”

“Hosea taught me so I could help around with chores. And Wasp already had a saddle when we found her so I’m all good to go Mister Morgan!”

“Great, now go get her saddled up so we can go.” He said, motioning towards the horses.

“See you in a flash.” You said while snapping your fingers, forming finger guns to point back to Arthur. You dismissed the look of confusion on their faces, clearly not used to the finger gun motion. You walked off to Wasp and gave her a little pet and a snack. As you were putting her saddle on you overheard the rest of the conversation between Arthur and Dutch.

“We can both see you have a soft spot for the boy, Arthur.” Dutch said with a chuckle.

“And we both know youngins have great hearing and that he’s spying on our little conversation.” Arthur said in response, eyeing you. You kept saddling Wasp up as if you heard nothing. Let the deaf chicken inside of you arise and all. Hoping they’d say more.

“I know Arthur, I know.” Dutch said with a chuckle. About to walk away. “Oh before you go, he’s a kid Arthur, don’t be too hard on him and be carefull.” You didn’t think you were a kid, maybe not a full grown adult, but at least you were half an adult, no kid. But you weren’t going to say anything, you were eavesdropping after all. “He’s all yours, (Y/N)!” He yelled at you, before leaving for real. You turned around and gave him a smile and a quick wave. Arthur walked

“Take her by the reins, we're walking to an open spot first.”

“Shoar '' You said, absolutely trying to mimic the western accent you hear all around here. Apparently it was just bad enough to make Arthur chuckle.

“We’ll make a cowboy outta ya yet.”

Traveling in the wild was absolutely amazing for the most part. Abandoned camps are in fact disgusting. They leave their trash! And it’s not like they cleaned their cans so it smells. But besides that the mostly untouched nature was beautiful and the air was so clean. It all felt much more, how to put it, real. No factories everywhere, no house on every corner of the street, just, the world how mother nature intended it. It was peaceful. There was an open field about ten minutes walking from camp, and that’s where you arrived. Reins in hand.

“You ready to go (Y/N)?” Arthur asked. You put your hand on your hips looking at your horse with abosute pride and stupidity because how to fuck were you going to do this?

“Absolutely.” You said. “Remind me how do I get on again?”

The words were taken by the wind as they made room for silence. Arthur’s expression could be described as a mix between surprise, disbelief and the OhMyGodAreYouStupid emotion. Yet it all quickly made room for a smile, or a laugh. He could definitely be laughing at you.

“I didn’t expect to need to teach an 18 year old how to get on a damn horse.”

There was no fire behind the words, but as they say, fight (fake) fire with (fake) fire.

“And I didn’t expect to end up here for the life of so I did not think horse riding would be a viable skill to know. So get your pretty ass in the saddle so I can.. mimic you or something.” You said making a hand gesture at Arthur’s horse.

He gave you one more smile as he turned to his horse, getting on slower than usual. He got on on the right side of his horse so he put his right foot in the styrup. He lifted his body up effortlessly and as elegant as a western outlaw could get. And there he was, in the saddle, in full western glory.

“Looks easy enough.” You said, an absolute lie as it turned out. The stirrups were way higher than expected, and the getting on could be called anything but elegant or the cool western movies you saw. Turns out your own body is heavy and there’s quite a lot on a horse to get stuck behind. But you ended up in the saddle, full western glory.

The rest of the riding lesson went about the same. Arthur did something really cool looking and whenever you did it it felt like you were some old slime blob.

“Squeeze your lower legs to get her to move, (Y/N)!”

“I am this horse is just broken- OHMYGOD SHe’s moving!”

“Never blame the horse for the rider's lack of skill, boy. Now steering.”

He explained it all to you. How to properly hold the reins and how to use them, how to do it with one hand and how to do it with two. Western and English style he called it. He taught you how to move your horse around and what not to do. The one and most important thing being to have no doubts and no fear. The horse will sense it.

It felt odd at first, to have control over another living being. It wasn’t easy no, Arthur had to tell you how to correct your posture every 5 minutes. But after a while of correcting everything you started to get confident. It started getting easier to steer. Every muscle of yours was getting tired but it was so worth it. Maybe one day you’ll look like an actual movie star.

Once you got the basics down you could go a bit harder. From a walk to a trot, a canter and even a little gallop. And as the wind brushed over your face blowing your hair away, it felt like something the 21st century didn’t have a lot of. Galloping through the grass hearing every step as more and more grass was thrown into the air. Arthur still giving you instructions on what to watch out for, riding by your side in case of emergency. And the horse, Wasp, god she deserved a cooler name. Her big strong muscles moving beneath you, her breath as she was running, the heat radiating from her skin, gods it felt so great. No modern bike or car could ever top this feeling of freedom.

Cars and bikes could however top the feeling of falling off. You lost control quite a few times, losing balance, a rearing horse throwing you right where you belong. But nothing modern could beat that feeling of getting on again. Of it working when you tried it for a second time. Hell, maybe the third time. Arthur was there to make sure you were okay, and you could have another go. And another. And just one more for good measure. Lying on the ground trying to see if this time you did break something wasn’t a strange thing after today. Hell it happened at least every hour. But determining it as fine and getting on again, it felt like a lot.

You didn’t even realize it was getting late until the sky started turning orange. The normally so bright sun started becoming more yellow and stopped burning at your eyes. Instead it just seemed pretty. The clouds became yellow just like the sun, and the sky turned a bit darker with every passing minute. Yellow and orange were happy colours, maybe this was an good omen, maybe, just maybe, you wouldn’t think you’d die somewhere in a ditch. Bee would be proud to see you haven’t given up. You knew that for once.

“Time isn’t a real thing Mister Morgan, I swear.” You said looking at the sunset.

“Call me Arthur.” Said Arthur Morgan, though guy in the west in dire need of respect. Arthur “You call me mister Morgan boy” Morgan.

“Wait, did someone hide weed somewhere because this must be a hallucination! Can I really call you Arthur?”

“Wouldn't have said it otherwise boy.” He hissed, the mister Morgan just wouldn't leave Arthur.

“Well, Arthur, thank you. I’m happy I only have to say half the syllables now.”

“Shoar thing. Now let’s go back to camp before they send out a search party to see if you haven’t broken anything today.” He said jokingly

“I would never! I am obviously the best horse rider in the entire United states!” You said sarcastically, if you fake confidence long enough, it might become real.

Arthur laughed at that. “Well see about that boy. Now let’s go, we should be there soon considering you can ride now.”

“Of course, good plan. I can show off my skills now!”

“Shoar, go ahead boy. Don’t make your entrance too dramatic.”

“I will, I absolutely will. Oh and Arthur?”

“Hm?” He said, quite relaxed actually.

“Thank you, for everything today. I’m happy you let me bother you today.” You said with a proud smile.

“You’re welcome boy. Bother me all you want, we ain’t getting rid of you just yet.” He said as he ruffled your hair a bit. “Now let’s go home, I’m realll hungry.”

You absolutely couldn’t hide the smile on your face. “Hell yeah, I’m starving.” You said as you kicked the stirrups making Wasp move, you rode to camp in the beautiful orange sky. Maybe he did actually care about you, just a little.

Reblogs and comments are always appreciated!

[vegetalass]

What about the RDR2 boys on a road trip?

Thank you so much for this fun request! As you can see.... I went a little crazy❤️✨😩

General 

They fight about what snacks they should bring and end up forgetting them all

They all fart in the car and blame each other for it. 

Literally ends up being the stinkiest ride ever and everyone wants to Die 

The fighting about what’s played on the stereo is endless and someone is always unhappy about it

If they have to take two separate cars, Hosea switches up the groups so that no one is stuck with the same people for too long

If one car seats seven, Hosea and Dutch will take the other for themselves (smh)

I’m not gonna lie… literally all of them would pee in a bottle… how they feel about it is pretty different, though 

Arthur 

Can drive one-handed

Drives in silence, not because he likes silence but because everyone else is Too Loud and he needs a break

Tries to talk about the scenery but that’s boring and he gets ignored

Also gets ignored when he points out cool cars.. and cows… and license plates… 

Even Charles can’t be bothered to respond

Backseat driver

Gets yelled at constantly for this but doesn’t stop 

John gets it the worst

He doesn’t have road rage, just thinks that everyone is a bad driver 

His favorite thing is to roll down all of the windows in the car 

Rarely gets to do this because of how many complaint’s he’d get

Stops at every farm stand on the side of the road that he sees 

After a while he doesn’t even need anything and just does it because he feels bad if he drives past them

The only thing he’ll eat while driving is chips

His clothes and seat get covered in crumbs

Wears his hat, jacket and boots in the car even though it’s hot and doesn’t make sense

Also probably buys one of those dangly pine trees to hang on his rearview mirror

Can’t read in the car because he gets carsick :(

Would he pee in a bottle? - Yes, but he doesn’t want to talk about it

John 

If he’s not driving, he’s probably asleep 

And if he’s not asleep, he’s “resting” 

Honestly, he just doesn’t want to talk to anyone in that environment

The grumpiest one of them

He’s just mad (sad) because Abigail wouldn’t let him go with Ms. Grimshaw and the girls

Probably ends up spilling something and tries to blame it on whoever is sitting next to him 

Spends most of his radio time just browsing through stations

When he finds anything he likes, it immediately goes to ads and the process starts all over again

Takes all his rest stops at 7/11 just so he can get a slushee and a hotdog 

He’s okay with stopping at gas stations too but they’re just not the same

Takes off his shoes in the car and just wears his socks the whole ride 

He probably drives like that, too 

This is why Abigail didn’t let him go with them 

Would he pee in a bottle? - Yes, but he’d be mad about it and would try to bring it up a lot

Charles 

Plans out where and when he’s going to make stops

Probably does a few stretches and some jumping jacks when he gets out of the car

He will let the gang stop at McDonalds but only if he thinks they deserve it

The only thing he orders for himself is an ice cream cone 

The safest driver out of everyone

So safe, in fact, that he’s always made to drive at night

He doesn’t mind much because everyone is pretty quiet when it’s late and that means less complaining

Makes a long playlist full of music like Sufjan Stevens and Mumford & Sons (and The Black Eyed Peas) 

Everyone tries to clown him for it but he’s the King of brushing it off 

“When it’s your turn, you can play what you want” or “I didn’t complain when you were playing 100gecs” 

First of all: drag them… 

Second of all: okay, Dad. 

Talented because he can read in the car without getting carsick

Apologizes for everyone’s behavior when they go anywhere

Makes everyone use hand sanitizer after doing literally anything

They have to pass it around the car like little kids

It’s probably Bath and Body Works

Would he pee in a bottle? - Yes, but pretends that he wouldn’t 

Micah

If he’s driving, he gets control of the radio. Doesn’t matter if it’s his turn or not, he gets Full Control. 

If anyone even suggests changing what he’s playing, he snaps at them

Dummy probably smokes in the car

Dummy also probably eats while he drives

Holds his food while steering 

Everything gets greasy

His rest stops are incredibly short

So short that they practically don’t exist

Threatens to drive off without people 

The only time Dutch intervenes with his behavior is when he tries to pick up a hitchhiker

He’s like, “Look Arthur, it’s your long lost brother!” 

He also probably tries to stop at a gentlemen’s club in the middle of nowhere at some point, too 

“I could crash this car right now if I wanted to” 

He only says this once though because it causes a riot

Backseat driver but only to Arthur 

Sean swerving and Hosea speeding: I sleep 

Arthur accidentally cutting someone off: REAL SHIT?

The only other one who gets to use the charging cord (because he’s mean and demands to)

Would he pee in a bottle? - He’s almost happy to

Hosea 

Is never allowed to drive because he doesn’t like to make stops. He 100% will drive past every single rest stop and every single McDonalds they see

Everyone could be screaming at him to pull over and he’d just ignore them

Drives way too fast. Catch him going 90 MPH saying “I’m just going with the traffic!” 

Everyone else: terrified

When it’s his turn for the radio, he chooses to play an audiobook

If you complain about being bored to him, he’ll try to get everyone to sing campfire songs 

Everyone gets to about ninety-five bottles of beer on the wall before giving up and start fighting

He’s also the one to suggest playing “I Spy”

The gang will play but it’s all like 

“I Spy something gross” 

“Is it Micah’s butt crack?” 

“Yes” 

Has one of those mini electric fans that sprays water at you when you press a button 

Doesn’t share it

Always has his phone plugged into the charger to the point where no one else can use it 

Keeps a box of bubbly water under his seat 

It’s lukewarm

He’s the only one who drinks it but he offers it to everyone 24/7 

Would he pee in a bottle? - Yes, but only because he makes the other boys do it and he feels guilty

Dutch 

Acts like everyone should be grateful he’s driving even though they’re all taking turns 

Pulls the “You’re lucky I drove, I’m not a chauffeur!” card when someone is mean to him about anything

Music of choice is just Elvis Presley with a few random smooth jazz songs mixed in 

“What do you boys know about this?”

Everyone: … 

Complains about everything

If he’s not complaining about someone being irritating, he’s complaining about how hot it is, and if not that, there’s something else

Always thirsty and needs to have a drink with him at all time

Will only share it with Hosea or Arthur and lowkey neither of them want what he’s drinking 

When he’s driving, makes everyone stop at a drive-through cafe where he orders the most expensive iced drink on the menu 

Like Arthur, gets mad at people for “not enjoying the view” 

“You boys are so lucky you get to experience the…” Blah, blah, blah 

Ends up falling asleep but only because he wears a sleep mask and ear plugs

Probably listens to music on a walkman lmao

*Dutch in sunglasses and headphones* “Sorry I didn’t see you right there, I was too busy, mmm, blocking out the haters” 

Would he pee in a bottle? - Yes, because he thinks it’s efficient 

Kieran 

Slowest driver of the bunch 

And out of all of them, takes the most stops 

Probably packs his own bag of snacks and it’s all fucking jellybeans and gummy bears 

Says that they’re the easiest to eat while driving 

Technically, that isn’t even a lie (Micah, please take notes)

He will stop anywhere anyone asks… Why is he so nice?

His favorite stop is Dunkin’ Donuts, though

The music he plays is either great or awful and no one can agree on which is which

Every other song is 2000s dance techno

That or Taylor Swift (and that’s when people start yelling at him to change it)  

Spends the whole trip in slides and no one wants to sit next to him because of his exposed feet

He can (and will) drive in them, though 

When he’s not driving, he’s probably watching a movie or playing games on a big ass tablet

Gets made fun of for using huge headphones

People are just jealous he’s able to find a wifi signal

Would he pee in a bottle? - He’s done grosser things for less, so yes 

Javier 

Brings himself a sandwich to eat and ends up sitting on it 

Backseat driver energy but he’s better at restraining his comments than Arthur 

That being said, if your driving is shitty, he will send you Vibes 

Doesn’t bother much with searching for music and just ends up playing a few hour long YouTube mixes when it’s his turn for the radio 

It’s either that, or Mexican radio for 2 hours (and he will sing along)

The only people who don’t complain about this are Charles and Arthur

Probably the only one out of all of them to make the gang go to an actual restaurant during his rest stop

It’s the first real meal any of them have had in like, three days, and suddenly they all feel better

They refuse to admit it, though

Clips his nails out the window at some point

Ties a bandana around his eyes and uses it as a sleep mask 

*insert that picture of the guy with his face mask over his eyes on an airplane* 

Also probably uses the bandana to block out the smell of farts when it gets especially stinky 

Would he pee in a bottle? - He doesn’t want to, but his logic is that if everyone is doing it, why shouldn’t he? 

Sean 

His driving speed is normal but his driving skills are… Bad

He just isn’t paying attention honestly

Too busy talking

Probably tries to text and drive

Arthur takes away his phone after that

Also, did someone say road rage? 

When it’s his turn for music, only plays nasty pop and rap  

It’s fine at first, but the fourth time he plays “I Cry” by Flo Rida or “New Body” by Kanye and Nicki Minaj, everyone gets mad 

Only takes rest stops at gas stations

And takes literally the longest stops out of all them 

Probably spends the whole time telling the gas station cashier about how annoying everyone is 

Everyone is like “kasjdfkhd” because they think he’s the annoying one and they’ve been waiting to leave for like ten minutes

Don’t sit next to him because he will sweat on you 

If you share your drink with him, 50% chance he’ll backwash in it 

When he’s not driving, he’s watching Tik Toks without headphones (if Arthur has given his phone back, that is) 

Would he pee in a bottle? - Without hesitation

Bonus: 

While the boys are all off fighting, Ms. Grimshaw packed the girls a picnic that they get to enjoy at a nice, camping rest stop 

Molly speeds like the devil 

She’s like Hosea, if not worse 

Tilly made everyone a different playlist and they all take turns listening to them 

Karen isn’t allowed to drive because she spiked her water bottle before leaving

Also isn’t allowed the aux cord because she will play inappropriate music or meme songs 

Sadie pumps the gas and chooses all of the snacks for everyone 

It’s a mixture of healthy treats and candy 

Jack is the Squidward wearing sunglasses while sunbathing meme when John asks if he wants to ride “with the boys”

[cowboisadness]

Hang ‘Em High {Arthur Morgan x OC} Chapter 16

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x FemOC

Summery: Belle Hawthorne is high society looking to escape her mean husband. A robbery by the Van Der Linde gang could be her chance. Can she escape his cluches and possibly discover what love should feel like?

Warnings: Swearing

.....

Chapter 16

My whole body was electrified from his touch, heating me up from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. Grasping each other like our lives depended on it.

It had been a long time since I felt like this, only, this flame burnt brighter and the butterflies beat harder.

One hand in my hair and the other at my waist, pulling my body flush with his own. Mine still settled on his cheek and the other gripping his shoulder, keeping him down here, grounded with me. 

His tongue brushed over my lip, prompting me to invite him further. Tasting a hint of moonshine as his tongue danced with mine.

I hummed an involuntary moan, not realising until I heard it. His grip softened then and before I knew it he was pulling away, his hands retreating and taking a few steps back.

“I - I’m sorry, I - shouldn’t - I” He stammered, looking everywhere but at me. 

I took a step closer, slowly, like I was calming a spooked horse that wanted desperately to flee.

"Arthur, don't - " 

He mimics my movement, stepping back "No. It's not right. It's not what you want." Then he turns to walk away, I’m still rooted to the spot.

"Don't just assume to know what I want," I call out to his back prompting him to stop and finally look back at me.

"I aint a good man."

“Then you don’t know enough about me,”

My shoulders slumped in what would appear as defeat, but I was shocked that everything he has done to help me in these few months, he doesn’t see as good, noble actions. A kindness not many would be met with.

"I know bad men, you aren’t one of them" 

I recoiled at that. I am certain the man I have slowly gotten to know, to call a friend, someone that I care about isn’t the one he is saying he is. Either that or he is a great liar and better than he makes out. But why?

“It’s getting dark.” With that, he turns on his feet and begins walking towards camp again. I followed a few paced back, my eyes on the ground the whole way trying to understand what just happened.

Once at camp we parted without a word or even a glance, my hands clammy and my mind reeling from confusion and to be honest - hurt.

…..

Instead of dwelling or loathing in self-pity, I made my way to Dutch, who was sat reading by his tent, with a proposal he may be interested in.

The Braithwaites owned prized horses and Hosea mentioned John and a few others planning to relieve them of a few of those said horses.

I explained to Dutch how I knew about other Braithwaite horses, some even more special, being held in stables near a local creek. Secretly hidden away and only to be viewed by notable buyers. Mentioning I had been there once before. He thanked me and planned to have a few men go over and scope out the area.

Many had congregated around the fire as the evening set in but I had no intentions of joining them tonight. Fixing my gaze over at Arthurs tent, the canvas drawn closed and the dull gleam from the lantern seeping out from under it. Should I go and speak with him? Try and clear everything up?

No - No point. My emotions were still reeling as made evident by my still pounding heart and clammy palms. Instead, I made my way to my tent to turn in for the night.

It was then, being in the confines of my own private space that the events from tonight finally dawned on me. I shot and probably killed multiple people tonight. It weighed heavy on me in a way dissimilar to killing that O’Driscoll a week ago. It was all in self-defence but the conversation and that damned kiss in the woods, not moments after killing, and aiming to kill. Like it wasn’t a big deal.

Franks a killer, Arthurs a killer. I’m a killer.

To have no second thought on what I was willing to do with a gun in my hand and then fling myself into the arms of a friend like I was living in some lunatic action-romance novel. What a complete fucking mess of a woman. Of a person.

This couldn’t be who I really was.

I slumped onto my bedroll, my reflection finally taking hold as the tears began to pour and my chest tightened. This is the life I have chosen to live.

I tried to keep the sounds of my sobs to a minimum and waited for the restless night to eventually pass into daybreak.

The next morning I woke before anyone else, no point in trying to get any more sleep. My eyes scanned the camp and made my way to make a fresh batch of coffee. The weight still heavy and the back of my eyes burning.

But I didn't waste any time to let my mind wander again, deciding to get one with whatever chores I could to keep myself busy.

A couple of hours later John approached me as I was trying to stomach the tasteless oatmeal that was breakfast. He and Javier checked out the stables I mentioned during the night, said it was legitimate, a few guards and workers but nothing they couldn’t handle. They planned on robbing that place after the manor, which was happening today. I hope they get something worthwhile out of those horses. The Breaithwates are known to be nasty folk and deserve to be fucked over.

I wasn’t expecting this given that I had no part in helping to steal them. He noticed my hesitation, pushing the notes into my soaked hand. “You told us, you get some.” 

I was sat with Karen and Abigail as they worked on mending the never-ending pile of damaged clothing. I was elbow deep in a wash bucket, suds overflowing as I relentlessly tried to beat the dirt out of the fabric. It could get so hot here it wouldn’t be long until the clothing I was currently wearing would need to join the others in the bucket.

John, Javier and Arthur had just returned from stealing the horses, the three of them stood at Dutchs tent before John made his way over to us.

Expecting him to start a conversation (or argument) with Abigail I was surprised when he stopped in front of me. A clip of notes in his hand.

“Here's your cut. Those were some fine horses.” He said as he handed the money to me.

It wasn’t until I heard the unfamiliar laugh that my attention was drawn back to him. Stood with Lenny beside the fire, fully engrossed in whatever the other was saying. I never heard him laugh like that, completely carefree at that moment. A deep feeling making me wish I could be sharing that happiness with him, and even being the cause. My shoulders slumped as a shuddering sigh escaped me. I didn’t realise I had stopped what I was doing, arms motionless within the water and eyes fixed on him until Karen’s hand was waving in front of my face, pulling my attention to her and Abigail. Both of them watching me intently. 

Shoving the fold into the breast of my blouse like the lady I am I looked up to John with a grateful smile “Thank you, John.”

He shrugged with a smile and wandered off.

Soon after Arthur passed by, murmuring a “Good afternoon, Ladies” without even looking my way. The other two returning the pleasantry but I kept quiet, my focus now back on the task in front of me. Pushing back the slight pang of hurt with a deep breath.

“You alright there, Bella? Got a bit distracted?” Karen inquired, the pair with a knowing look on their faces.

“No, I’m fine. Just...I’m sick of sweating, you know?” I turned back to the shirt in my hands, ringing it out and hoping they would continue what they were doing. Real smooth Bella.

“Yeah, and we were born yesterday. Come on, you know you can gossip with us. Us girls keep our lips sealed.”

I looked at her as she knelt closer to me, her features blurry. 

I shook my head, the loud thoughts now running through my mind. The shirt in my hands being twisted to an inch of its life.

Abigail’s hand rested on mine, halting the torture I was inflicting on the fabric.

“Sweetheart, what’s happened?” her voice was soft and quiet, easing me in a way only a mother knows how. 

“I done something stupid,” I whispered, just enough for them both to hear, Karen glancing in the direction of the fire. Abigail curled her other arm around to gently stroke my arm. 

“Talk to him. You’d be dumb not to see that you two have gotten close since you being here.”

“The men here are surely the most dim-witted I’ve ever met, and I’ve robbed fools from right under their nose many times,” Karen exclaimed with a smile on her face making me huff out a quiet laugh.

So it was that obvious huh? They didn't even need to ask who I was talking about.

@kashasenpai​

If you want to be included in the taglist just shoot me a message :)

[12timetraveler]

All my requests involve a chubby female reader because insecurityTM Buuuut if you do want a new fic idea for Hosea fucks Friday~ Hosea takes readers virginity? I was thinking like the reader would be talking with the girls and the topic of sex would come up,and reader would admit to being a virgin and themselves thinking it's because of their size. Cue our charming silver fox coming to the rescue lol. (ignore if you are fed up with the chubby!F!Reader requests) Again love your work V MUCH

I have had this request in my inbox for forever but I loved the idea so much. Finally, FINALLY was able to sit down and finish it.

So, Chapter 54 of Campfire Stories is here. 

For the Dancing and the Dreaming

Hosea overhears reader make a few confessions to the other girls in camp one day and decides to act on his long-time feelings for her.

Below is a preview. Check out the whole story at the link above. 

“How’d y’all lose your virginity?” Karen asked suddenly, breaking you out of your thoughts. 

“Karen,” Abigail laughed, trying and failing to give Karen a disapproving look. 

“I was 16,” Karen started, ignoring Abigail. “His name was... damn what was his name? Bobby or Jimmy or... somethin’ like that. Anyway. He and I were sweet on each other. One afternoon he took me into his barn.” 

“You lost your virginity in a barn?” Jenny asked, scrunching her face up. 

“Didn’t that... you know... hurt?” Mary Beth asked. “All that straw in your...” Mary Beth shuddered. 

“No,” Karen said indignantly. “He lay down a blanket and everything. Like a proper gentleman.” 

“Some gentleman,” Abigail laughed. 

“Well what about you!? You got better stories, then?!” Karen huffed.

“Al, I think his name was.” Mary Beth said after a moment. “I met him in a bar. We chatted all evening, then he took me up to the room he was renting in the saloon.” Mary Beth sighed. “He was very nice... though... He wasn’t very naturally gifted.” She giggled. 

“Uh oh,” Abigail said. 

“It wasn’t that bad. He tried his best. And I suppose it didn’t hurt that much because of it.” Mary Beth shrugged. "Ain’t very romantic but still.” 

“I was 15 I think.” Abigail said. “He wouldn’t have been my first choice but... he wasn’t so bad I suppose. We’d been flirting on and off. I was starving, figured I had to become a working woman if I didn’t want to die in the gutter. Sold him my first time for a mighty fine price.” Abigail shrugged. “Could have been worse, I suppose. He was... kind. Made sure it didn’t hurt too bad.” The others nodded in understanding. 

“How ‘bout you, Tilly?” Karen asked. Tilly glanced up at you all. She paused, thinking for a minute. 

"It was when we were still out west. Can't remember where exactly. Nevada or Wyoming or something. We'd been camped outside this town for a few months and there was this feller. He was... Sweet. Very sweet. Any time he saw me he'd run off and pick me the nearest flower." Tilly grinned, staring at her lap at the memory. "Weren't meant to last. He was too gentle for this life and I'm too wild for his. But it was good while it lasted. When his parents were out he snuck me up to his room and we did it there." 

"His name was James.” Jenny sighed wistfully. “Lived just down the road. He and I went on a wagon ride. Once we were off the road and out of town, he lay down a blanket in the back of the wagon." Jenny giggled. “Thing was rocking something fierce. I’m sure anyone who saw it knew what was happening, but no one bothered us. Horses were pretty irritated with us though.”

“How about you?” Mary Beth asked. Everyone turned to you. You could feel heat rushing to your cheeks. 

“Me? Oh... I uh....” You paused, trying to make something up quickly. 

“You... have done it before, right?” Mary Beth asked slowly. You sighed and shook your head. 

“You’re a virgin?!” Karen exclaimed, far too loudly. You shushed her, looking around to make sure no one was listening in. 

“Yes, alright?! I’m a virgin! I’ve never been with anybody before.” You hissed between clenched teeth. 

“That’s okay,” Abigail assured you. “In society, that’s what you should strive for. It’s okay if you want to wait.”

“It’s not that I want to wait. Men don't wanna be with a girl like me." You said simply, stating a fact of life.

"Why wouldn't they?" Mary Beth asked slowly, not following.

“Why would they?” you scoffed, focusing on the sewing in your hands. "I mean, what do I have to offer them?" 

“Hey, don’t talk like that,” Abigail said. “None of us are exactly catches. Doesn’t mean much in the end.”

“I’m sure you just...”

“Don’t,” You cut them off. “I don’t need to hear any of that. I know damn well why no one will have me.” It was silent for a moment. 

“Why?” Mary Beth asked, sounding genuinely confused. The other girls looked equally lost. 

“Look at me.” You said, gesturing to your body and the way your curves had turned to rolls as you were sitting on the crate. 

“You think no one has slept with you because of your figure?” Abigail said gently. 

“No. I know that’s why nobody’ll sleep with me. Been told as much all my life.” You said simply. You sighed, setting down your sewing. “I mean... I suppose if I tried maybe I could get the really desperate men. But I just... I want my first time to mean something. But no one gives me the time of day, so I’ve never made that connection.” You said. “Sometimes I think I oughta just get it over with. Let Mac or one of them just take it and be done with it. But... I guess I’m still holding out hope.” 

The others were silent for a moment, no one knowing what to say. 

“Horseshit,” Karen said. “Men don’t actually care about that.”

“You don’t get to say that,” You snapped, glaring at her. “Think about the last time we all went to a saloon in town. Did anyone push you out of the way to get a better look at me? No? They pushed me aside for you,” You huffed. “My whole life I’ve just been a figure in the background. Until you experience that, don’t tell me it’s horse shit.” You deflated a bit, feeling the weight of it on your shoulders. Jenny reached out and rubbed your arm gently. You patted the younger girl’s hand reassuringly. 

“Sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped. You didn’t do anything.” You said. You looked over the girls. You were older than any of them by at least a year or two. Hearing that they’d all lost their innocence before they were twenty had you feeling like an old maid. “Let's find a happier topic to discuss.” You suggested. Everyone was quiet for a moment. 

"I think I know who you want to take your first time" Karen finally said, wiggling her eyebrows, trying to lighten the mood. Tilly grinned. 

"She's right. A certain silver-tongued fox we all know you're sweet on." Jenny said, wiggling her eyebrows

"Awww Hosea would be great for your first time." Mary Beth sighed. 

"Do y'all have to talk so loud?" You huffed, glancing around. You weren't sure where Hosea was, but camp was small. You'd be utterly humiliated if he heard them talking. 

"They're right, you know." Abigail said. "They only get better with experience. And Hosea's smart. He'd take care of you." Abigail made a face as she realized she was talking about someone she very obviously saw as a father. 

"Can we please drop the subject?" You hissed. You could feel your cheeks heating up. 

"I remember being kept up a few nights because of him and Bessie." Mrs. Grimshaw's comment made you jump out of your skin. You hadn't heard her walk up behind you, standing with her hands on her hips. "She always liked it." She seemed lost in thought for a moment before turning back to you all. "I'm not certain why you all are discussing what Mr. Matthews would be like between the sheets, but I'm sure you have better things to do with your time. Back to work." She snapped.

~~~~~~~~~

[the-awkward-outlaw]

Hello ! Can u write an imagine where Arthur s/o kills Micah and she is banned from the gang. Would Arthur follow her ? Thank u :)

Man, I have been in the biggest writing funk for the first time in like nine months but I finally got this one done! Here you go, Anon! Sorry about the wait. 

(Author’s note: Arthur doesn’t have TB) (BTW, Arthur is husband material and no one can change my mind)

It’s already been a long, exhausting day and it’s not even midday yet. You hate it here, always will without a doubt. Beaver Hollow is just a complete shit show and the gang has seriously deteriorated. 

You miss how things used to be. You can remember how everyone was: Mary-Beth and Tilly giggling over romance novels, Sean bragging about how tough and smart he was, Uncle’s jokes, Hosea’s stories about his past and how he always added a note of wisdom. Oh Hosea. He was just another casualty of Dutch’s plight against modern America. 

Everything’s changed since Hosea died and the boys returned from their tropical trip. Javier doesn’t sing or play the guitar anymore, no one laughs, people fight constantly. It’s a burden and a pain to be in the camp nowadays, and you hate it. The person who’s changed the most though is Dutch. He’s not the caring, almost paternal figure who was just struggling slightly to help everyone get back on their feet like he was right after the Blackwater mess. Now he seems to be on a suicide mission and intent on taking everyone in the gang with him. 

The worst thing about the whole situation is Micah. He’s always known how to butter Dutch up but when Hosea was around, he kept himself in check. Now that Hosea’s gone, he’s been in Dutch’s ear the whole time and you haven’t liked it. You’re not the only one; Arthur and John have been suspicious about the whole thing. 

Arthur’s faith in Dutch has been severely shaken. He questions Dutch much more than he ever used to. Dutch doesn’t like it, and he keeps on lying, saying he’s going to get everyone out. All he’s done is killed Cornwall, blown up a bridge, brought Pinkertons closer to camp than ever and used the war between the army and the Wapiti into his favor, even getting the chief’s son locked up during a feud. 

Arthur walks over to your tent after donating a deer to Pearson, who’s drunk again. He’s been coming to you to talk a lot more lately, though you’re not sure why. You’ve had a crush on Arthur for ages but never acted on it. You two have been friends for what seems like forever and you refuse to destroy that over some silly feelings you have. You’ve wondered if Arthur has a crush on you too. It’s just the way he acts sometimes, things he says. The way he wanted you to come with him to tell Mary he didn’t want to be her errand boy anymore. The way you catch him staring at you sometimes. How he always wants you to go off hunting with him but won’t invite anyone else. 

Just as he’s about to say something to you, Dutch calls him over. Arthur gives you a yearning look and then turns around to go see him. A few moments later, someone catches your attention, pulling you away from your work, with their voice. It isn’t Arthur, though or even John or Mary-Beth. It’s Micah. 

“Ah glad to see you’re putting an effort into keeping this place running. We can use all the help we can get,” he simpers. 

“The fuck do you want, Micah?” you snarl. 

Micah’s always been a pebble in everyone’s shoes but now with Hosea out of the way and Dutch going crazy, he’s been acting like he’s in charge of things. He keeps badgering people to do their chores (which most of them have been) and that everyone needs to pull their weight. This doesn’t bother you, what does bother you is the hypocrisy of it all. He never does a damn thing. The last job he helped with was murdering Cornwall but you felt he did it out of a personal interest and less of a needs-to-be done basis. 

“Always gotta be so bitter,” he says, smiling. “You know, if you were a little nicer, people might actually like you. Too bad nothing can be done to make you pretty though. Unfortunately you’ll just have to stick to nice but ugly.” 

You throw down the sewing you’d just been doing and stand up, marching over to him. He wisely takes several steps backwards as you whip out your pistol. 

“Give me one more goddamn reason, you cockroach,” you hiss. “I won’t hesitate to kill you.” 

He whips out his own gun and points it at you. “You don’t have the guts, little girl.” 

“Wanna bet? You ain’t the first person I killed, though I’m not sure I can really define you as a person.” 

By this time, your argument has attracted the attention of many of the others. They form a circle and watch, but no one dares interrupt. You get the feeling that most of them want you to kill him. The majority of them have had problems with him too. 

“Woe!” Dutch says, walking over with his hands in the air. “There is no need to have guns drawn in camp. Both of you fools, put them away.” 

He stands next to Micah and glares from him to you. Arthur stands a few feet behind him and shakes his head at you, clearly trying to stop you from doing something reckless.

“She started it, Dutch,” Micah says, his gun still drawn. 

“Bullshit! You’re the one going around insulting everyone. Trust me, if I don’t shoot you now, someone else will. Like Lenny said back in Colter, when you fall there’ll be a party.” 

“Watch your mouth,” he growls. “Keep flapping your gums and you’ll end up just like Lenny and Hosea. Better yet, maybe you’ll get your head shot off like good ol’ Sea-”

Before he can finish, he’s silenced by your bullet slamming into his neck. He sputters and drops his gun, grabbing at his gushing neck. People start yelling and Javier and Bill grab you, making you drop your gun. 

“Let go of me!” you scream as Micah falls to his knees. Dutch glares at you, clearly shocked. As Micah slumps down onto his stomach, he stomps towards you. Javier and Bill hold your arms tight and you can’t fight them off. 

“You know the rules, Y/N,” Dutch says quietly. “There’s absolutely no reason to shoot anyone in camp unless they’re traitors.”

“How do you know Micah wasn’t a traitor, Dutch?” you snarl. “Ever since Guarma, those damn Pinkertons have been nipping at your heels more than ever.” 

Dutch lowers his brow. “I’m going to give you five minutes to get away from here. Never come back, Y/N. I never want to see you around here again.” 

Javier and Bill let you go, but you look around, silently pleading with the others to help you. No one does and your eyes finally fall onto Arthur. His mouth is partially open but his eyes say he wishes you hadn’t done it. He says nothing though, and you feel your stomach drop. Of course he’d choose Dutch over you. He’s known him for twenty years and Dutch saved his life. You’ve only known him a few years and maybe helped him get out of a few scrapes. You’ve got nothing on Dutch when it comes to Arthur. You don’t blame him either. No matter what kind of mess Dutch has gotten everyone into, Arthur’s been doing his best to keep things together. All you’ve done is create a bigger mess for him to clean up. 

You know it’s time for you to leave. There’s no doubt in your mind that Dutch is just crazy enough to kill you, and the clock is ticking. You push your way between Tilly and Karen and go to your tent, packing everything up quickly. You feel everyone’s eyes on your back until Grimshaw barks at everyone to get to work and for Charles and John to get Micah’s body taken out of camp. You throw everything onto your horse and then run off down the path, feeling your heart break. You’ll never see any of them again, not even Arthur. Your best friend and the man you love will never be part of your life again. 

********************************

It’s been three weeks since you were forced to leave camp. You’ve gone back west, back to where you’ve always belonged. You’ve found a small cabin not too far from Aurora Basin in Tall Trees. When you first arrived, the cabin had clearly been abandoned for a long time. You cleaned it up and made it habitable. You’ve decided to hang up the hat on being an outlaw. The Pinkertons won’t be coming out this way looking for the Blackwater robbers, not when they know exactly where Dutch is, so you’re safe out here. Besides, you weren’t even involved in that mess, so no one will associate you with that. 

It’s been lonely but peaceful out here. No more having to rob people, no more feeling like you’re chasing your own tail in Dutch’s crazy schemes. No more having to worry about anyone else besides yourself. You’ve missed them though, all of them. You miss joking with Tilly and Karen, discussing books with Mary-Beth, listening to Javier’s stories about Mexico. Even Pearson’s cooking since you’re not much of one yourself. 

More than all of that though, you miss Arthur. You miss the sound of his voice, the conversations you had during long hunting trips. He was the only person you could tell anything to. There were many nights you spent under the stars with him and even a few curled against him to keep out the cold. You miss the way he smelled, the way he’d hesitatingly touch you. You two were a perfect hunting team, you were able to track and kill prey without hardly saying a word. You try to settle with the idea that you’ll just have to reminisce in the memories of him but to forget a future with him in it. Not that you had much hope for that before. Arthur may have told Mary to take care of herself from now on, but you always knew he;d never go for you. 

You’ve been fishing in the lake for some time and gotten hardly any luck. You sigh and decide to call it a day, collapse your pole and pick up your almost empty bucket. You head up the road, feeling lonely and missing the company of your family. When you round the bend leading to your cabin, you look up and see a familiar face. 

“Arthur?” you say quietly, not sure if he’s really there or not. 

He rubs his jaw and looks at you, clearly searching for the right words. You stop and look for him, your stomach clenching. Has Dutch sent him? Dutch said you only had five minutes to get out of camp, but not that he wouldn’t hunt you down. The only reason you can think that Arthur’s here is because Dutch told him to find and kill you. You hover your hand over your gun, hoping you won’t have to use it. 

“Arthur, please let me explain,” you say. “You know Micah was just making things worse. Let’s just put this all behind us, okay? Just tell Dutch you killed me, at least do me that favor.” 

“Dutch didn’t send me, Y/N,” he says softly, his hands on his gunbelt. He takes a step towards you but stops when you back up, clearly worried. He raises his hands. “I ain’t here to hurt ya, darlin’.” 

Darlin’? He’s never called you that before. He’s always addressed you by your name. If you didn’t know Arthur, you’d think he might be lying and pretending to be harmless, but you know him too well. He doesn’t lie. 

You blink heavily, feeling your eyes water. “Why else would you be here, Arthur?” 

He sighs and takes another step towards you, his hands still up. “Y/N, I ain’t followin’ Dutch no more. You said it weeks ago, he’s gone crazy. He didn’t get better when you left either. Micah might not have been around to stir him up, but he’s just gone worse. He was real angry when Charles and I went and broke Eagle Flies out of jail, tryin’ to clean up his mess.” 

Arthur goes on to say how the army tried to kill Chief Rains Fall for the oil on his land and how the gang went to help try and save Eagle Flies as he went to get revenge for his people. By the end, Arthur got trapped beneath a soldier and nearly killed. Dutch had been the only one there and could have easily saved him, but chose not to. When Arthur confronted him about it, a huge fight broke out between them and Arthur decided he’d had enough. He snuck John, Abigail and Jack out that night and then decided to find you. 

“I knew you’d come out west, Y/N. You’re too much like me, this is where you’ve always wanted to belong.” 

“But why would you want to come after me, Arthur? I understand why you left, but why come after me?” 

He lowers his hand and walks up to you until he’s only a couple feet away. “Because I care about ya, Y/N.” His gruff voice is soft, sending shivers down your arms. “Because you’ve always tried to help me. If you’d been there, I know you woulda saved my life, not leave me to die like Dutch did. I did everything I could for him, even almost died for him multiple times. I gave him everything I had and got nothin’ to show for it. I’m done, darlin’. I want to be with you.” 

Your entire body is shaking as he talks. He closes the distance between you and wraps his arms around you. What little strength you had holding you together crumbles and you sink into his chest, tears leaking out of your eyes. 

“I’m sorry I weren’t there for ya when you killed Micah,” he says, rubbing your back. “To be honest, I was happy when you killed Micah. He’s been a giant thorn in my side since he showed up and I’ve wanted to shoot him myself since Sean died. I was just shocked that you’d done it so quickly. I shoulda gone with you when Dutch forced you out.” 

You shake your head into his shirt. “No, it’s good you didn’t. If you’d left with me, Dutch would have hunted both of us down. He knows how essential you are to everything, he wouldn’t like it if you left with me.” 

He sighs and leans his cheek against your head. “Well, I’m here now, darlin’. If you’ll have me, I’d like to stay with ya as long as I possibly can. You’re my best friend and…” He pauses so long you look up at him to find his cheeks red. “I gotta be honest, Y/N, I’ve been sweet on ya for years.” 

It’s your turn to blush and you smile. “Really? Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“We had things so good, Y/N. We been friends so long, worked so well together, I didn’t wanna ruin that. Besides, I know you wouldn’t have feelings for me. I’m just an old, dirty outlaw. I ain’t worth no one’s time.” 

You grimace at him. “Arthur, I hate how poorly you view yourself. You wanna know what I think about you?” 

“I suppose, though I doubt it’ll be anythin’ good.” 

You sigh and stretch up, placing your lips against his. They’re soft, though slightly chapped. He tenses up when you touch him but after a second he responds. His lips move with yours and you trace his with your tongue. After a moment, you pull away. He’s cheeks are darker but he’s smiling. 

“That’s what I think of you, Arthur. I’d love it even more if you decided to stay with me. I’ve been sweet on you for the longest time, it’s been so hard for me to keep it out of our relationship. I just didn’t wanna ruin our friendship.” 

He smiles in and leans in to kiss you again. You feel the first surge of excitement and happiness since you got kicked out of the gang. You can’t wait to see what the future has in store for you now.

[xihaveaplanxx]

The Storm (Pt 2 of 2)

“Dutch, do you want to go to Mcdonalds with us?” Hosea asked his friend. He and Arthur were going to stop by and get a few burgers and fries and a McFlurry since it’s what Reverend Swanson wanted. He was going to come in later as he was busy at the church. Overly so. It was almost time for the annual Christmas play and he and Sebastian Vael were losing their minds trying to get the kids prepared and what not. Rehearsals were almost getting violent apparently. “Dutch?” Hosea poked at him and Dutch just looked at him before shaking his head no and taking his papers into his room, slamming the door. “It’s been a few months. It’s getting scary now. What? Is he just not going to talk anymore ever again?”

“He talks at work, I’m sure.”

“No he doesn’t. He writes everything down and hands it out to everyone. She really messed him up. Jenny’s friend really messed him up, badly.”

“I haven’t even seen Dreama in some time.”

“I think Jenny mentioned she was taken before the mage council.”

“She was taken before the council?”

“Yes. Apparently she did something to that Burger King manager and she is in trouble. It was only a matter of time. I always told Erandur since she was young, to instill values in her. Not give in to all she wanted. To actually tell her no and look at how she is. I mean I adore the girl, I do but she’s not all there. Clearly. I don’t wanna be the one to say it but Anders made it worse. She’s only acting out because she can’t have him, because she can’t have something she wants. A tantrum that could end in deaths if she’s not stopped.”

“You really think it’s so bad, Hosea?”

“Look at Dutch, Arthur. It really is that bad.”

At Erandur’s house/Teldryn’s pov

“Dreama, you can’t stay locked away forever.”

“Sure I can. I have no interest in leaving this room, not ever. You and Dad told Solas about what I did to Cullen as if he fucking matters. Now I have to report to fucking Solas at least once a week and he is measuring my magical reserves to make sure I’m not over using it.  I am so fucking angry. If you just let me fucking be with Anders this wouldn’t happen but no, you guys hate him and in favor of fucking Dutch. I heard you both saying you kind of like him. He’s a nobody! He’s worthless. I hate everything!”

“You know for 30, you are mighty dramatic. Quite the child.” I sighed. “I always told Erandur to be careful with how he raised you and I see his willingness to not accept sometimes you can get off the rails is affecting you even now.  You know Dutch really likes you or likes you. He doesn’t even talk anymore because you hurt him so bad but I know you don’t care. You are too immature to care and far too deep inside of your mind over Anders to care for who you hurt.”

“Fuck off.”

“Child.” I shook my head. “Being this way won’t get Anders out of jail. He’s being watched by strong mages now. They won’t let him out. It must hurt you to know he is going to be locked away forever but if you want to waste your life hanging up on him, you go right ahead and keep hurting people who wanna be there for you. Won’t be long before you push away John or Dorian or even Jenny. You at least should apologize to Dutch for hurting him.”

“He can fuck off.”

“Fine.” I gave up. Trying to reason with her. She was still a child. I didn’t want to blame Erandur but....this was all him. Even when he got Anders rearrested, he still was thinking how to coddle Dreama and tell her it was okay and it wasn’t her fault. Though she was the one who got him broken out of jail, she was the one who bribed Geralt to let him out. She was the one who lied with this man in the first place but no, Erandur coddled her even now. I feel we need to get him in check before coping with her but it just seems everything was too late.  I left from her room door and headed downstairs. Valdimar had finished cleaning up and was watching Maury...again. I never understood why he loved it so much but he was very interested in baby momma drama and trying to figure out why people would much rather broadcast the fact they don't know the father of their baby rather than addressing it privately.  “Valdimar, I see you finished the housework. Thank you. You know even if you are the house steward, we can help you with the cleaning. You are more like a friend living here if anything.”

“It is my job to keep the house protected and clean. I know I don’t have to do much , but I like to. I like to keep things in order so I can feel like I’m doing something other than getting fat and watching MAury.”

“You aren’t remotely fat. Watching Maury though.....”

“This lady tested 20 men and none were the father. How do you let it get that bad?”

“That..wow...”

“Oh looks like number 21 isn’t the father either” He said as we watched a guy break into a dance as this girl ran to the back practically screaming. “Maker. How do you allow that to happen? 21 men...that’s.....”

“You’d think you’d stop coming to the show after five men but allowing yourself to keep coming back...I’d figure it’s just attention.”

“I don’t know if this is the type of attention I’d want.”

“Not many would.” I patted his arm. “Dreama is being a brat.”

“Don’t let Erandur hear that.” Valdimar lowered the volume on the tv “But she is. She’s been nothing but mean even to me. I made her her favorite meal and she tossed the plate at me.”

“She’s an adult. There is no reason for us to stand by this behavior. I have an idea. Erandur won’t like it but it’s for her own good.”

“What is your idea?”

“Well she doesn’t pay for anything ever. She barely works. If she wants to do what she wants, she can do it not here.”

“You can’t toss her out. She is you guy's daughter....”

“I’m doing it because I care. Erandur doesn’t have the fucking balls to stand up to the monster he created so I will. He might hate me for it and he’ll talk shit about me for it but I’m doing it for her own good. He won’t see it at first, hell he might not ever see it but it’s just how it has to be.”

Two hours later

“Are you seriously throwing me out? I’m telling Dad.”

“You don’t do anything but be immature and it’s time you are on your own. You have your job. You’ll be fine. You have fanboys right, ask them to let you live with them.”

“I....you know, you were always my least favorite dad.”

“I wish that hurt me but after being married to Erandur, nothing you say can hurt me. I’m sure you’ll be fine. You want to do what you want, if you aren’t here you can do what you want. Hell go be with Anders if you want to. I don’t care. You won’t be doing it here so go do what you want.”

“Dad will be upset about this.”

“And I’ll deal with him when he comes in but you need to go. There are tons of apartments and I know you can afford one. Even better, I’ve been saving up money from the military, I’ll get you a place. I’ll pay the first month's rent. How’s that?”

“Really?”

“Yes. Maybe it’s harsh to just toss you out on your ass though you deserve it.”

“You know what, no. Keep your money. I’ll be fine on my own. I’ll pack up my shit and get the rest when I find a place. For what it’s worth, if you and dad fight again, I hope he leaves you for good. He deserved better.”

“You’d say that, you are mad.” I shook my head. “You can never hurt me, little girl.” I looked over at her. “Besides, I know you wet the bed til you were about 12. With that kind of information among other  things....nothing a child like you can say will truly ever hurt me.”

Outside Hosea’s house/Dutch’s pov

I didn’t expect to see her. It had been some time since we spoke, since I spoke in general and yet here she was. She had a suitcase and she looked angry. I was a betting man yes and I can bet she got tossed out by Teldryn. Erandur wouldn’t do such a thing but Teldryn he would and frankly I didn’t blame him. I could also bet that she wanted to stay here. Probably hoping the others weren’t here  in hopes I’d just say yes to her.  That’s unfortunate to assume.  She came up the stairs and knocked on the door. I guess I’d break that vow of silence but I knew nothing I said would be what she wanted to hear. I opened the door and she glared at me, already annoyed. I guess I took too long to answer the door. Oh poor thing. Poorly demanding possibly evil things. Hosea got on me for hanging around Micah , should have warned me of her as well. She’s worse than him in ways I can’t even word.

“Hi.”

“Dutch! I’m so glad to see you”

“Oh, are you?”

“Yes! Teldryn tossed me out and I need somewhere to stay and I want to stay here with you and Arthur and Hosea and Reverend Swanson.”

“Well John did move out to live with his boyfriend but....I’m sorry, you can’t stay here.”

“Why?”

“Why?  Did you really ask me why after what you did to me?”

“Oh come on, you can not think I’d actually like you. Please Dutch, I have morals.”

“Oh yes, morals that made you go after Anders. The same morals that say you flirt with Micah because you wanted his knife. He’s a weak, terrible man, course he gave you it but I saw you that day. I did. I never told anyone because I mean who would want to admit they were like that with him but you were. You are just....too old to be like this . I never wanted to say that to someone but you are. You are legit a child in an adult body. Throw fits when you can’t get what you want, manipulate people and for what?”

“You are an asshole, Dutch.”

“Oh you’d know all about being an asshole.” 

“You are legit mad that I don’t like you. For no reason.”

“No, I'm mad that you used me and got what you wanted and discarded me. You knew I loved you but you didn’t care. You never care. You just want to climb on people and dump them off. It’s the fate of anyone but Anders but he’s locked up forever now isn’t he? How unfortunate for you.”

“I hate you, Dutch.”

“I think I might hate you more.” He looked at her. “How about you just don’t bother me anymore. I won’t bother you, you don’t need to bother me. How’s that? We’ll just go on like we've never met.”

“But where will I go? I need somewhere to stay”

“Why is that my issue? You don’t give a fuck about me....I am not required to care about you....not anymore.”

[wistfulwisteriawitch]

Arthur Morgan x Lilith Vallent OC: Vas Ura (My One)/ Vas Soluna (My Bonded) Part 01 Chapter 02: Colter

The night falls, but everyone is warm, everyone has a bed, everyone is safe. I smile to myself and find Dutch who is puffing a pipe and some of Bel’s favorite tobacco, he and Belial are chatting with Hosea and Arthur when Dutch thanks him, “you really saved us there.”

“Not I.” Belial shakes his head and I smirk. Arthur is scribbling in a journal, it is something else entirely to see him do so in person, and I stay in the shadows to watch as he listens halfheartedly.

“Oh? Surely you’re the one who—“ Dutch begins laughing.

“You mistake the hierarchy Mister Van der Linde.” Bel smiles and shakes his head.

“The red head?”

“My One. But niet. No.”

Hosea chuckles, “the small one? I believe you said your little sister.”

“Hm.” He nods at the men who look floor struck except Hosea.

“You’re telling me that tiny woman.” Dutch begins.

“Though she be little, she is fierce.”

“Shakespeare.” Hosea mutters.

Arthur’s attention seems to have paused on his writing and his eyes snap up to where I am. For a moment we both regard one another before I step forward into the light.

“Bel?”

“Ah here she is, Sool Iña.” Good evening. Bel is on cloud nine, he has been able to speak with his favorite characters, Hosea especially. “I was just explaining the hierarchy.”

“You mean about how I clobbered you for rank?”

He snorts and shoves at me with his foot making my chair scoot a bit when I sat down.

“You’re really in charge?” Dutch asks.

I sigh, and drop the gentle approach, harden myself and straighten fully in my seat, leaning back and tilting my chin up, allowing my gaze to ease into a hard edge. “Yes Mister Van der Linde. Do you have issue with it?” I allowed a rumble to echo through my chest for a moment.

“Not at all, just surprising.” Dutch smiles glancing me up and down. “Not every day you meet a tiny woman capable of such things.”

“And that’s just the beginning.” Bel muttered and I kicked a foot out smacking his ankle, “ouch!”

“Siblings.” Arthur grunted as he continued to write.

“So tell me Mister Van der Linde, what brings three men worth a bond in collection of several thousand dollars this far?” I ask sipping some whiskey from a flask.

Dutch tenses as does Arthur and Hosea merely laughs.

“Relax. You are in good company.” Bel snaps.

“Oh?”

“Belial is wanted for at least five thousand.” I explained.

“And you?”

Bel chuckles, “where are you at now?”

“Not much but that’s because I don’t get caught.” I huffed taking another swig. “Last I checked for My name it was three thousand, but last I checked for The Red Wolf it was at ten thousand.”

“The Red Wolf?” Hosea tilts his head.

“A nom de guerre.” Bel explained. “We all have one.”

“We?” Dutch asks glancing at them both.

“Yes. My family is Vallent. I am of a people called Volkier, think of us as a ah….specialized family…we…handle things. Bad people.”

Dutch grips the glass of whiskey in his hand, “and what are we?”

“Good people who survive doing bad things.” I shrug, “like anyone else in the world Mister Van der Linde. You choose who to rob, you don’t destroy everything in your path.”

I knew using the words he had used with Cornwall would resonate and he nods, relaxing substantially.

“We would like to join you.” I said and all three men pause.

“Why?” Hosea asks tilting his head.

“Do I need a reason? You need more people who are skilled, I have skilled family. And I’ve taken a shine to you. We Wolves do not consider such trivial things. We do as we please.”

“Wolves.” Arthur smirks, “is that what you’re called.”

“It is Mister Morgan.” I softly reply. “Volkier have been around for ages, thousands of years we have passed down our knowledge to our kin, we have survived this far, in the wilds of the world— but the world is changing. And so we must change with it or perish. However, we survive best in numbers.”

Dutch laughed and nodded, leaning over and patting my knee, “indeed. I do believe I like you Miss Vallent.”

“Thank you.”

Belladonna entered the cabin and draped herself over Belial’s shoulder. “I am tired love.”

“Hm.” Bel grinned and excused himself, finding it hard to walk with Bella entwined around his arm.

“Puppies.” I snorted into my drink. “How vulgar,” but no venom was in my voice as Bel gave me the finger behind his back. “Hurry up and make me an Auntie!”

All three men almost coughed into their drinks.

“I CANNA BARELY TAKE CARE A THIS FOOL OF A MAN!” Bella’s laughter could be heard as they shut the door to their quarters.

“Sorry, we’re a bit…ah…open with how we speak of such things.” I grinned a bit sheepish. “Please allow us to show our use to you gentlemen.”

“Hmph.” Arthur was still glaring over his sketchbook but it was different— was he drawing me? I felt a curious urge to lean over and look but he guarded the edge with a hand.

Awe, bummer.

“I hope your quarters are suited to you. Mister Morgan I’ll show you to your designated spot.”

He sighed and got up to follow where I led him to a smaller cabin to the left of the bunker cabin. He walked in and glanced around. “You’ll be sharing space with myself. I hope that’s alright.” He seemed to pause, but without a fight nodded. “It is still colder than hell, it’s better to bunk up where we can.”

“Hah, surely you ain’t wanting to bunk up with me.”

“Do you see any other ornery cowboys here?” I asked crossing my arms. No way in hell are you staying in a drafty cold place cinnamon roll. Get your ass into bed. “Don’t get shy on me we can only burn wood for so long and I don’t feel like freezing to death, I won’t bite you. And I dont trust anyone else near me, and I am in no way sharing space with my brother and his bonded.”

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

Arthur could understand that well enough, but as she went into another room and came out with her hair in a thick braid piling wood into the fire to bank it so it wouldn’t go out and at least keep it relatively warm, she turned to him. “You alright?”

She trusted him. Why, she hardly knew him, but she acted as if she’d known him for a long time— and damn it if it wasn’t rubbing off on him too. Through the evening she had quietly chatted with him about horses, guns, poker, anything that actually might peak his interest, California being one of the things he was want to talk about.

He even spoke of Bodicea, watching her eyes cloud with pain. “I’m so sorry. I know that doesn’t fix the pain…”

“No but…s’preciated.” He muttered.

Now here she was bundled in a bed piled high with furs and pelts and all manner of blankets like a bug in a rug.

“Look I can.”

Her warm gaze snapped open. “Don’t make me fling you into this bed Mister Morgan, I am tired.”

“Hmph.” As if she could. But he shrugs, “fine don’t say I didn’t warn ya that you’d be uncomfortable with a mean old bastard like me.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah grouchier than a bear in winter, get in here already.” She yawned big and rolled herself over.

He got himself down to his union suit and crawled in, almost groaning at how warm it was already and settled into the goose mattress— how long had it been since he’d slept in a god damn bed weeks…months?

His eyes slid shut for a moment, and drunk on exhaustion he glanced at her, half her face hidden by blankets her wide eyes blinking at him like a curious animal.

Why did she look so damn happy.

“Ya warm?” He mumbled.

She nodded. “You?”

“Considering yer like a god damn furnace shore.”

“Hehehe. I know. My family always sidle up to me during winter, my brothers and I tend to run hot like Mama.”

“So that a family trait.” He jolted when her hand found his and he realized she wasn’t joking, she was warm and he found himself dragging her closer.

She was pouting, “If you wanted to huggle-up just say so.”

“Hm?” He wasn’t sure what that meant.

“You know, huggle-up, like a puppy pile….you ever see wolves pile up on each other during winter?”

“I don’t make it a habit to wander into wolves dens.”

“Psh, sure you don’t.” He realized she was referring to the three of them.

“You all take this wolf thing seriously.”

“Yep.”

“Hm…”Arthur felt himself drifting off, unaware of how tight he was holding her warm hand. “Thank you.” He muttered.

“Of course Arthur…”

Sometime in the night he could hear the ever so soft whisper….

Amongst the leaves and twining branch.

The moonlight sways in winter’s dance.

Within the Company of Wolves, I keep.

That I may lie down in peaceful sleep.

He wasn’t sure what time it was as light filtered through the window frames. But it was burning up despite there still being a damn blizzard outside rattling the cabin.

“Hmph?” Arthur grunted a bit and tried to move but was weighed down as something….no…someone…was tangled with his legs.

He damn near panicked but opening one eye and looking down he flushed bright red.

She was half under him, tucked into his shoulder with a sleepy smile, hair undone as somehow in the middle of the fucking night he had buried a hand into her locks.

Fuck…move damn it… he said to himself.

“Arthur?” She opened one eye. “What’s wrong?”

“Um I’m sorry…” he blushed again.

“For what?” She muttered.

“uh..”

She glanced down at themselves and laughed, “oh please.” An arm wound about his waist and she bundled closer lightning her legs around his limbs. “Sleep it’s too early.”

He sputtered, disentangling himself and falling off the mattress to the floor with a low oof.

“Awe! You okay?” She popped up scratching her scalp, humming to herself, “ugh guess I’ll get up too if you’re so hell bent. Geez, getting up with the sun is a bitch.”

He grunted and stood up rubbing his bruised lower back.

“Arthur?” She called him, and he jolted a bit, “coffee?” She held a mug as he buttoned his shirt over his union suit.

“Thanks.” He took a long drink feeling the heat go straight to his gut.

“Welcome.” She drank her own cup, “I’m sure Belladonna has breakfast going.” She got herself bundled up after she went into the other room in a warm dress and boots, along with her wolf cloak that was dark black fur fluffed out all over making her look bigger than she was. “I’ll go check on it.”

He frowned to himself glancing at the unmade bed. Had he really spent the night bundled up to a total stranger….

A rather cute stranger.

No…no…a stranger nonetheless.

Yes he had. And he wasn’t too sure how he felt about it.

But upon entering the cabin with the bunk beds he could hear the men chattering rather amiably, warmed up with the small stove that kept the room comfortable, “ah it’s Morgan, where the hell did you sleep?” Micah asked. “Saw you heading off with that tiny woman, get lucky?”

“Shut it Micah.”

Javier chuckled, “she speaks Spanish you know. Her mother is from Mexico.”

“Really? I thought they were Russian.” Lenny said.

“Father is Russian.” Bill corrected sipping his coffee.

“Well whatever they are, sure am grateful.” Lenny smiled.

Arthur always liked Lenny, he was a good boy, did good work and was smart to boot. “We should be, be in a hell of worse set of circumstances without em.”

“I dont trust em.” Micah snapped. And everyone frowned at him.

“Just sad about Davey.” Bill muttered.

“When I go I don’t want no one to be sad just fucking move on.”

“Why when you go Micah there will be a party.” Lenny chuckled and Bill laughed.

But before Micah could land a blow Lilith stood before him.

“Gentlemen.” She chided. “Such behavior.” Arthur tensed, watching her body language as she sighed deeply as if disappointed. “What seems to be the issue.”

“Ain’t gonna be laughed at by the likes of these idiots.” Micah snapped.

Lilith chuckled, “Mister Bell, surely such a trivial thing could do you no harm, yet you’re willing to draw blood for such a thing from family?”

Everyone tried to move when Micah’s palm lashed out, “you Bitch!”

But a small hand gripped his wrist making the big man stop, he jerked but the grip was iron.

“Mister Bell. I don’t take kindly to violence intending to draw blood amongst friends and family.”

Lilith’s gaze was sharp, her lip curled in a sneer and she clenched her hand tighter around Micah’s wrist making the man grunt. “Right now I am grinding your radius and your lunate bones in your hand together…hurts doesn’t it?”

Arthur watched with a deep frown, Javier was laughing, and Lenny just stepped back a bit Bill kept drinking his coffee seemingly glad she saved him from getting his jaw punched.

She stepped forward, pushing Micah back by bending his wrist at an unnatural angel towards him. Her voice was gentle, scolding. “If I wanted to… I could easily snap it back and dislocate your wrist. I would of course set it…but it would hurt…quite badly. Bear that in mind when you decide to bare those dull fangs of yours at me for such an idiotic reason. You shall not get any leeway from me again. Do I make myself clear?” She didn’t even wait for him to respond, jerking his wrist and forcing his legs to buckle from the pain. ”Be a good boy and DOWN.”

No one moved.

Everyone was too shocked to move.

Belial was leaning in the doorway with a lopsided grin, “Lioshka?”

“It is fine.” She flung Micah’s arm back with a rumble in her chest and kept her head high, staring down her nose at the blond man, before slowly glancing over everyone. “Gentlemen,” she brushed snow off herself and adjusted her hair which was piled up in a half Gibson girl style, “breakfast is ready, come eat.”

With that the siblings left.

“God damn.” Micah hissed rubbing his wrist glaring at the door, “something is wrong with that fucking bitch.”

Charles was trying not to laugh as was Lenny, “seems fine to me.” Lenny said.

“Don’t worry Micah, you’ll get her next time.” Javier chuckled as he walked out.

Arthur merely glared at the man. “Don’t let me ever catch you acting to hit her again.” He growled.

“What protective of your little she-bitch?” Micah spat.

“Watch it.” Arthur snapped. “She’s helped us be grateful.”

Breakfast was a strange affair, everyone was piled into the cabin, and that meant everyone, the Volkier family stated it was good to eat together. A potato hash, baked greens and melted cheese on toast and a type of strange meat chop dish that was riddled with wild onions and herbs.

Pearson was in heaven. He didn’t even complain and he had apparently been helping.

Lilith had informed everyone over the meal that afternoon meal would be a simple dish like breakfast, when was the last time they even had three meals a day…everyone was brighter, their morale boosted, and Dutch and Hosea were chattering away together.

“So Dutch, tell me. There are O’Driscals nearby?” Lilith asked.

“You know of O’Driscalls?”

“We hate them.” Belial snapped from across the room.

“Oh good.” Dutch said laughing, “we’ll all get along fine then.”

“We can help.” Belladonna smiled wide, “may I?”

“You and I will go, Belial, stay with the group. Ensure no one comes if they do, slit their throats open.”

“Yes little sister.”

Hosea glanced at Arthur they seemed to be thinking the same, how could one so young speak of killing so easily.

“May we join you?” Lilith asked Dutch, “I promise we will make it easier.”

“Why not.”

With that, it was decided, and Lilith went to prepare, stating a dress was not clothing to fight in.

Arthur huffed and leaned in to Dutch, “we sure bout this letting women on a job?”

“Arthur have faith.”

Have faith…that was always the answer….Arthur seemed to be running out of faith as he followed Dutch, “Dutch we ain’t got the luxury of revenge… you’re always sayin that.”

“Best that we hit him before they hit us.”

[ladyboltontoyou]

Retribution, Arthur Morgan x Reader

Ask: hello! i just recently came upon your blog and am obsessed with your writing & rdr2. i’m not sure if you’re still active, but i had this idea (angst) where the reader has been betrayed by her best friend who killed her sibling, and said friend then joins colm o’driscoll. so her and the gang go after them and after taking out their hideout, the reader finds the traitor and stabs him repeatedly out of anger & emotion and arthur has to stop her and hold her because she’s hysterical. Thanks!

Warnings: Cursing, blood, violence, death.

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Reader

A/N: Here it is, my first Red Dead fanfic after my long break. It felt so good to write for him again. I hope you enjoy reading as much as I did writing!

***

Time felt frozen when you heard the news, you couldn’t move. In ten seconds you had gone from optimistic about the day to completely stunned. After you heard what happened, the rest of Hosea’s words fell on deaf ears. 

The corn you’d been shucking fell from your limp hand, rolling away from your feet. 

You were an awful sight to see. Eyes glossed over, lips parted, face completely flushed. Hosea hated the way you looked, it broke his heart more than anything else he’d ever witnessed in his life. And he’d been through unimaginable.

Just as fast as you’d gone from happy to shocked, you got angry. Livid. You stood from the barrel you’d sat on and grabbed your double-barrel shotgun, whistling for your horse.

“(Y/N),” Hosea grabbed your wrist as a small crowd formed. “You can’t run into something like this in your state. It’s too dangerous, you need to calm down and think.”

“What’s going on?” Arthur’s voice was the only thing to cause you to pause. “Where the hell you off to?”

“You said he’d joined Colm?” You looked at Hosea, almost wanting to listen to his warning when you saw the look in his blue eyes. 

“Who?” Arthur questioned further, walking closer to the two of you. Around you, Javier, Bill, and Micah had been listening and were all aching to get in on whatever you had planned. They were always up for a shootout, and you were grateful. 

“Not now, son.” Hosea hissed, knowing you were on thin ice and it wouldn’t take much before you rushed into something you weren’t ready for. 

“Hutch killed Oakley.” You gritted out through a clenched jaw, your grip tightening on the grip of your gun. “And he’d with Colm.”

As if things couldn’t get worse, Dutch decided to leave his tent and see what the fuss was about. Hosea explained it to him, hoping he would see the danger in your plan. For a minute he agreed with Hosea, saying it would be unwise to go in guns blazing.

Hosea sighed in relief and let go of your wrist.

You looked at Dutch and shook your head, tears burning your eyes. “I can’t sit here and do nothing.”

He observed you, eyes casting down as he realized you had a point. He scratched his chin, the silence and tension in the air making everyone uneasy. Then he finally nodded. “We’ll need a plan.” 

You were talked into waiting a week. A few of the gang members went out to find where they were hiding, taking up most of the time spent waiting. Dutch gave you a long talk about remaining calm when the time came, which went in one ear and out the other. 

“I’m sorry about Oakley.” Arthur sat down next to you beside the river, taking out a bag of candies from his satchel. He offered you some and you dug out a hard caramel, nodding in thanks. “I know how it is, losing someone you love.”

You were thankful for the company. You’d been sitting by the river for hours, watching the water race by, the occasional fish or two jumping and making a scene.

“I trusted them with him.” Your voice broke, but you didn’t let yourself cry. Not yet. You’d cry when Hutch was dead.

A gust of wind blew by, carrying the scent of pine. It ruffled through Arthur’s hair, picking up his own scent and taking off with it. He sighed and picked out a mint candy, cracking it between his teeth.

“It’s not your fault, you need to know that.” Arthur scooted in the dirt closer to you, so your shoulders were touching. A week ago, you would have gotten butterflies being so close to him. You and Arthur had been dancing around each other ever since you joined the gang, the idea of being with him always on your mind. But the death of your sibling was too raw for you to feel those sweet butterflies.

“How is it not? If I didn’t leave home, if I didn’t leave him with them-”

“Stop. There’s too many if’s. There’s nothing you can do now but honor Oakley’s memory. Revenge, it’s… it’s not something I think too much of.” His breath smelt like peppermint candy, the soft breeze carrying the smell under your nose. “But I’ll help you get it, (Y/N), if it’ll put this to rest.”

You couldn’t speak, you knew if you tried to talk you’d break down. So you nodded and leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder. “Thank you, Arthur.”

The time finally came. 

The ride to the location Sean gave you felt like the longest you’d ever been on a horse. Arthur was by your side, saying nothing but offering his support nonetheless. 

Dutch, Bill, Micah, Javier, Hosea, and Sean were with you as well. Micah, as awful as he was, would never turn down a good gunfight. He was surprisingly understanding as well, promising if he saw Hutch he’d bring him to you. It was one of the rare times you could tolerate him.

It happened fast, it was a small hideout, containing maybe twenty men. 

Your eyes raced around the open field they had set up camp in, trying to find the blonde man. Most of their camp was on fire, and their horses had broken their ropes and were running this way and that. It was hectic and confusing, but you’d never felt more alive.

There he was.

You dug your spurs into the sides of your horse and took off after him, he was making a bee-line to the woods. You wouldn’t let him get that far.

“You thought I wouldn’t come for you?” You shouted, taunting him as you lassoed him from your horse, watching with glee as your rope swept his legs out from under him. You slipped from your horse and rushed over to him, planting your steel-heeled boots on his neck before he could scramble away. “Why? Why the fuck did you do it?”

The whooping from Javier and Micah felt like music, coupling nicely with the crackle of fire. Arthur was searching for you in the crowd, spinning his horse to avoid crashing into a burning tent. His eyes finally landed on you, your form barely illuminated in orange. 

“It was my way in.” Hutch choked out as he grasped at your boot, struggling just to breathe. “The O’Driscolls, it was my way in.”

“You wanted in their pathetic gang so bad you killed my only kin?” You sputtered, feeling a mix of anger, frustration, confusion, and adrenaline. “My last living kin! I trusted you!” The tears in your eyes finally spilled from your cheeks and before you knew it, your boot on his neck was replaced by your skinning knife. 

His blood streamed from the wound and saturated the ground under your knees but you kept stabbing, his neck, his chest, his face, anywhere your eyes landed your blade quickly followed.

He was long dead by the time Arthur pulled you off of him.

“Don’t touch me!” You screamed, writhing in his arms. 

Arthur knocked the knife from your hands and pulled you back, folding your arms against your chest with his arm. “Stop it, (Y/N).” He was mostly scared of you stabbing yourself, if you weren’t so hysterical he would have let you keep going. “It’s done, (Y/N).”

At his words your breathing finally slowed, your struggles weakening. You allowed yourself to cry for the first time, turning in his arms to bury your face in his coat. The smell of Arthur was enough to calm you down, wiping away the smell of blood and replacing it with gun-oil, cologne, and sweat.

Arthur pet the back of your head, holding your shaking form close to him. It broke his fucking heart to see you like this, but he knew you got what you needed. He kissed the top of your head before resting his forehead against yours. “It’s done.” 

You could finally be at peace.

[sweets-fanfics]

Homecoming 8

Title: Aftermath

Word count:2561

Warning: Angst af

A/N: Next episode will be fluffy as shit to make up for the darkness. But It’s important to know that everyone reacts to traumatic events differently. I also wanted to make it known I wasn’t in anyway attempting to romanticize sexual assult. As a survior of it I know first hand it’s not to be romanticized and it’s a serious ass topic.

 The faces of horror you saw when you rode into camp on Arthur’s horse is something you won’t forget for a long time.

 The one that broke you the most was Hosea’s. He had just wanted to do something nice for you. Let you be on your own.

 And it backfired horribly.

 Of course, people had questions all they saw was an angry Arthur and you looking beat up to all heck. However, Arthur didn’t seem to have the intention of letting anyone talk to you. He hopped off his horse and lifted you off.

 “My God, what happened?” Hosea asked calling attention to the few who hadn’t seen you an Arthur ride in.

 “We ain’t gonna talk about it right now.” Arthur simply put. He carried you to his tent since it was a bit more spacious than your own. He laid you on the cot and turned around to shut the flaps to give you privacy.

 He turned around and helped you out of your boots. He looked around his tent until he spotted what he was looking for. He held up his blue shirt only then bringing it to your attention he was wearing a white button-up you hadn’t seen before. “Here,” He handed it to you. “Put this on. I’ll go grab you some water and somethin’ t’ clean you up with.”

 He started to leave but then hesitated. “People are goin’ to ask… Is there anyone I should tell only?” He looked at you with such sad eyes. It made you feel weaker than you felt.

 “Maybe just, Hosea, Henry and Dutch…” You mumbled softly. “Also… can you get Abigail for me?”

 Arthur smiled sadly, “Of course sweetheart, I’ll be back.”

 After he left you didn’t change right away. You felt wrong. Like you weren’t in your body, and you didn’t know how to work this one. You let out a long sigh and slip off Arthur’s coat and slip on his blue shirt. Since Arthur is so much bigger than you you don’t even have to unbutton. You sit on the cot and hug your legs tightly to you even though it’s still sore.

 “Y/N?” You hear Abigail outside.

 “Come in,” You mumble.

 When Abigail enters the tent you see the other girls outside waiting. And behind them you see John, Charles, and Javier looking worried as well. Abigail sits on the other end of the bed and quietly waits for you to speak when you want to. She seems so sad but she doesn’t push you. You can feel tears rolling down your cheek, you quickly try to wipe them on your skirt but she notices.

 “Oh, my sweet girl, what happened to you out there.” She asks softly looking on the brink of tears herself.

 “I was attacked…” You mumble.

 She sighs and scoots a bit closer to you. “Is that all they did to you, honey?” You shook your head quickly starting to cry again. “Oh, no honey.” She pulls you close and softly rocks you back and forth.

 “I’m in so much pain…” You admit. “I need help cleaning down there…” You say embarrassed.

 “Let me help you. I’ll just ask someone to make sure we aren’t disturbed.” She peaks out of the tent and mumbles to someone. When she pulls herself back in shes holding a bowl with a rag hanging out. “Alright, John is out there makin’ sure no one comes in until I say.”

 She puts the bowl down and begins to help you stand. “Alright… I’m going to lift your skirt okay?” She asks making sure.

 “I’ll be okay.” You say not believing yourself.

 She starts to lift your skirt and you jerk away from her breathing heavier. She stops right away and lifts her hands up showing she means no harm. “We can take as much time as ya need, Y/N.”

 “I’m sorry..”

 “Don’t be sorry. You have no reason to be.” You lift the skirt to show her and you see her heart drop the moment she sees the damage. “Oh, dear girl… I may just kill that man myself.”

----------

 Arthur walked up to Dutch and Hosea, “Where’s Henry? Y/N asked me to speak t’ yall.”

 “Are you going to tell us what’s goin’ on?” Dutch asked. He tried to step towards Arthur’s tent but Arthur held out a hand stopping him. “You best move you hand Mr. Morgan.” Dutch threatened him.

 “Abigail is helpin’ her clean up right now. Best we go to your tent and talk. How about you go wake up Henry.” Arthur could see Dutch was a bit thrown off at Arthur telling him what to do but he simply shook his head frustrated and walked to Henry’s tent.

 “It’s worrying me even more that you won’t tell us right away, Arthur,” Hosea said sitting in the chair in Dutch’s tent.

 “Just know, it ain’t your fault,” Arthur mumbled pacing back and forth.

 “How can it not be, I sent her out there.”

 “She don’t blame you in the slightest. Dutch still doesn’t know you sent her out.” Arthur tried to reassure him. Hosea didn’t look convinced.

 “What happened to my sister?” Henry demanded stomping up and grabbing a fist full of Arthur’s shirt.

 “Calm down, boy, and I’ll tell ya.” Arthur rips Henry’s hands off of him and sitting him on Dutch’s cot. Dutch leans on the post holding up the tent. Arthur looks at the three men in front of him. He finally sighs trying to psych himself up so he won’t get angry again telling them.

 “Y/N had snuck out t-”

 “I sent her out,” Hosea admits without looking up. “I felt bad so I sent her to deliver a letter to Trelawny.”

 “Well… while she was on her way to Saint Denise she got stopped in the swamps and some bastard…” Arthur didn’t want to say the next word. It made him sick to his stomach just thinking about it.  

 “Say it, Arthur,” Dutch demanded.

 “Some asshole assaulted her.” Arthur started getting angry again and turned around to calm himself down. “Hosea was gettin’ worried so he sent me to get look for her and I found her passed out in the mud.”

 Henry stood up and started going for Arthur’s tent with Dutch close behind. “Boy, get back over here,” Arthur yelled.

 “No offense Mr. Morgan but fuck that.” John attempted to tell them to stop but Henry pushes him away as he and Dutch stormed into the tent scaring both you and Abigail.

 “No,” Abigail yelled. “No men right now.”

 “Stand back Miss Roberts,” Dutch says.

 “No not this time. She doesn’t want to see anyone right now. You boys gotta respect that.”

 Henry pushed Abigail and grabbed your shoulders. “Y/N, who was it.” He says loudly. You just shake your head silently close your eyes hiding your face in your knees. “Y/N tell me right now so I can kill the son of a bitch who-” Arthur picked Henry up forcing him out of the tent.

 “If ya had let me finish I woulda told ya that she doesn’t know.” Arthur turned back grabbing Dutch’s shoulder and pulling him out of the tent with John’s help. “Now you two need to go clear your heads.” He sees Hosea looking angry too, “You too old man. Lord knows I need to as well. But let miss Roberts take care of her for the night.”

 None of the men liked that idea. Hell, Arthur didn’t either but he knew he would at least attempt to make an example. Eventually, after a staredown, Dutch stomped off to his tent closing the flaps. Arthur swears he could hear him throw something. Henry hops on to Lightning and takes off. And finally, Hosea pulls up a chair near Arthur’s tent and sits outside of it guarding the tent so no one tries to go in.

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

  “Will you be okay if I go make sure the boys have calmed down?” Abigail asks as she tucks you into the cot. You nod tiredly. “Get some rest, I’ll check on you in a bit.” She kisses your forehead and walks out of the tent.

 It’s too quiet as you lay in the cot. Abigail had wrapped a blanket around you so you felt cocooned and safe. But you couldn’t shake the feeling you weren’t.

 Eventually, you had fallen asleep you didn’t have any dreams or nightmares it was just quiet sleep. When you opened your eyes in the morning you could see the shining through the cracks in the tent. There was a slight movement making you shoot up. Arthur quickly raised his hands to calm you.

 “Whoa.. sorry Y/N I just came in to grab somethin’.”

 “Where are you goin’?” You asked. He didn’t make eye contact. “Arthur…”

 “I know you didn’t know his name. But… what did he look like?”

 You shook your head. “I’ll handle him.” You said threw your teeth. You rubbed your eye only to wince at the pain. “Be honest Mister Morgan, am I scary lookin’?” You pull his sleeve so that he can look at you.

 He gives you a kind smile but you can see the sadness. “You could’ve had your face half-eaten by wolves and you’d still be the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.”

 “Watch it…” You hear John mumble outside.

 “John, go to bed…” you sigh. “Thank you though Arthur.” You start to get up but he places a hand on your knee.

 “Y/N you should just rest today, and go on the murder spree I feel you are ‘bout to go on tomorrow.” Arthur chuckles softly.

 “I… I gotta do somethin’, I feel like you won’t stop lookin’ at me with sad eyes until I do.” Arthur sighs and kisses your forehead.

 “How about, you rest, I’ll track him down and then bring you to him once I do.” You stare into his eyes for a bit quietly. He does better to hide the sadness in his blue eyes since you pointed it out.

 Finally, you give a soft sigh, “Okay… But promise me you won’t do anythin’. Just observe. Killing is my job.”

 He smiles and kisses your nose, “I wouldn’t have it any other way.” You knew he was lying, Arthur wanted nothing more than to kill and torture the man who did this. It was all over his face and the way he tensed up for a moment when you made him promise.

  But he also knew you wanted to be the one to end him.

 You crossed your arms and sat on the cot. “Be safe.”

--------

 You tried to fall back asleep but it wasn’t working. You sat up and slipped your boots on. You tried to peak out of the tent but saw too many people close by.

 “I wasn’t expecting you to be up.” You hear Hosea say. You look to your left and see him sitting in a chair with a book in hand.

 “I can’t sleep.” You mumble. “Uncle Hosea…” You noticed he wouldn’t look at you. “You aren’t to blame…”

 “You say that… But I sent you out there.”

 “And I would have snuck out eventually anyway.” You cut him off, “It’s what I’m best at.”

 He sighs and lets out a small laugh. “That is very true.”

 “Uncle, may I use your hat?” Without another word he takes it off and hands it to you.

 You duck back in the tent and put on your head. Adjusting it and your hair until your black eye is sorta covered. Then you take a deep breath and step out next to him.

 “I look normal?” You ask.

 He looks up at you softly, “Look like you forgot to comb your hair.” You hum in a sarcastic agreement. “Also… Henry hid Suzie.”

 “Son of a…”

 “You need to rest, my dear.” You sigh and leave him to walk to your tent.

 You can feel the stares. You can’t tell if they are of judgment or worry, but you feel them. You try to keep your head up. You don’t want to be weak. You had this ever-growing rage inside to prove to them that you were strong.

 “Miss Van Der Linde, you should not be outta bed,” Abigail warns as she cleans Jack’s coat.

 “I’m just headin’ back to my tent.”

 “Mhm, better be.”

 You duck into your tent and pick up your violin case right away. You open the case and pick up the instrument. You tighten the bow hair and add a bit of rosin before heading back out into camp. You walk past it and down the shore a bit for at least a bit of privacy.

 Once you find a place you are comfortable with you began to play anything that comes to mind. It seemed today was a sad song. But you weren’t shocked. You figured it would be. Your fingers keyed the notes perfectly as always since you perfected this particular song.

 Slowly without realizing it, the song begins to turn angrier and angrier until you suddenly hear the note go flat and the steel-string smacks your cheek making you jump. You open your eyes praying the string only came loose. Your heart breaks a bit when you see the string snapped in two.

 “Shit.” You have a sudden urge to throw the violin into the lake just from the string breaking. This anger coming out of you from one action of another. Your grip begins to tighten on the neck of the violin. You wished you had the strength to just snap it in two.

 “That was a pretty song,” Arthur says behind you. “Got a little scary at the end.” You turn to look at him. He’s sitting on a log in the sand smiling at you. “I bet the store in Rhodes knows where to get a new string for it.”

 “I have an extra in my tent.” You feel yourself relax just being near him. You sit by him and place your violin in your lap. “How was your day out?”

 Arthur shrugs, “Went hunting for the camp for a bit.” Hands you a candy bar. When you look up confused he chuckles a bit, “Give it to Jack.”

 “Thank you, I had forgotten completely.”

 “How are you?” He asks throwing you off a bit. “Like… really?”

 You look at the ground, “I feel so scared of everythin’, but I also feel so angry. I’ve never felt this kinda anger before. Like… like rage. Hell if you didn’t speak up I may have destroyed my instrument.”

 “I found the guy I think.” He mumbles in his wonderful gruff voice. “But I’m not going to tell you where just yet. I want you to rest for today and tomorrow I’m gonna take you somewhere to get your mind off of it all.”

 You look out at the lake. “Then you tell me?”

 “Then I’ll tell ya.”

 “I love you.” You mumbled and then snap your mouth close realizing what you said.

 He chuckles and kisses the side of your head.

  “I’m really glad you said it.” You look up at him, “I’ve almost said at least three times this past week.” You laugh as he carefully wraps his arms around you.

 “I love you too.”

Tags: @rollyjogerjones

[queenxxxsupreme]

Arthur Morgan request where just the reader being there when Arthur comes back after being tortured and caring for him?

A/N: I know I already did one like this (Goodbye Kisses) but I really love this whole mission/scene in the game so I did another one :) I hope you like it babe!

Warnings: nothing out of game canon, mentions of Arthur’s wound, potential spoilers for chapter 3, spoilers for Blessed Are the Peacemakers

***

“How long are you gonna stand out here?”

You turned your head to see Hosea approaching you. You stood where the hitching posts for the horses were, your eyes scanning the trail commonly used to enter camp. Your arms were crossed and your shoulders were tense. Your jaw had been locked until Hosea spoke to you.

You let out a small breath through your mouth. 

“Until he comes back.”

“You know him, Y/N. Always out and traveling.” Hosea came to stand beside you. 

“But he didn’t tell me he would be going anywhere after meeting with Colm, Hosea. He would’ve told me if he had plans to go somewhere else.” 

“Oh I’m sure Morgan don’t tell you everything, sweetheart.”

You looked over your shoulder at Micah. 

“He’s a grown man. He doesn’t need a woman breathing down his neck the way you do.”

“This is none of your concern, Micah.” Hosea told him, glaring at the man. 

“I’m just trying to calm Miss Y/N’s nerves, Hosea.” Micah put his hands up as he came to stand next to you. “We don’t want her worryin’ her pretty little self to death now, do we?”

You cringed at his words, your stomach churning.

“Come get something to eat, Y/N.” Hosea turned his attention back to you. “It’s been a long day. In the morning if he’s not back, I’ll send Charles and John out for him.”

“I will in a minute.” You nodded, giving him a little smile.

“I’ll get you a bowl. Better not let it get cold.”

He walked away, leaving you alone with Micah Bell.

“You know, I don’t think he’s coming back.” Micah took a swig out of the liquor bottle in his hand.

“Excuse me?” 

“It’s a dangerous world out there, sweetheart. Wouldn’t expect a little filly like you to understand.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Moving on is probably what’s best for you.”

You gritted your teeth together, your eyes falling on the trailhead. Your nails dug into your bicep as your mind raced with endless scenarios. 

“Arthur would want that for you. He’d want you to be happy.” Micah reached out to brush his fingers over your hair. 

You swatted his hand away, turning to face him in the same instant. 

“Don’t put your goddamn hands on me, Micah Bell.”

“You’re a feisty one.” He smirked. “I like that.”

“What’s that in the woods?” Mary-Beth’s voice caught your attention. 

Your head snapped in the direction of the woods, eyes almost frantically finding the trailhead. 

Arthur’s horse moved along the trail at a walking pace. Something- or someone -was on its back hunched over. The horse stopped and Arthur’s body slipped off, hitting the ground with a thud. 

Time slowed down. Your heartbeat echoed in your ears. You could barely hear Mary-Beth and Karen shout Arthur’s name. You weren’t sure when Dutch had come to stand next to you, but even his voice sounded distant when he yelled. 

Soon, there was a small crowd of people gathered around Arthur. 

You couldn’t move, too afraid to find the man dead on the ground. Your heart was in your throat and you felt light headed. But then Arthur spoke and you could suddenly breathe again. 

“I told you it was a setup, Dutch.”

You found yourself sprinting to him, roughly shoving Bill to the side. 

“Move! Move!” Your voice was weak at first but then it became more demanding and almost hostile. “Back up! Give him some space!”

“Do what the woman said!” Dutch’s voice resonated better than yours and the crowd listened better to his words rather than your aggressive pushes and shoves. 

You finally got to the center of the circle, finding Mrs. Grimshaw looking down at him.Your eyes met Arthur’s and tears blurred your vision. You forced them back. You didn’t even get a chance to say anything to Arthur before Dutch was shouting orders at Grimshaw, Pearson, and Swanson. 

You were still trying to process what you had just seen, to process the state that you had seen Arthur in. 

Pearson and Dutch took Arthur to his tent while Swanson and Grimshaw followed. 

Once again, you were stuck in place, left alone, and unable to move. 

The lump in your chest was expanding, pushing its way into your throat. Your hands hurt so bad from how tight you were curling your fingers into fists. 

A hand on your shoulder made you jolt. It was Charles. 

“Are you okay?”

You couldn’t find your voice immediately. 

“I-I’m…. He’s- Arthur-He’s-,”

“He’s here now.” Charles cut you off, his quiet baritone soothing. “Go see him. I’m sure he’d rather see your face than Swanson’s.”

You nodded, forcing your legs into motion. 

Swanson was just stepping out of Arthur’s tent when you arrived. He whispered something incoherent to Dutch and Hosea. Then their eyes fell on you. 

“Y/N.” Hosea said your name as if to announce your presence to everyone else. 

“Can I go in?” You gestured to the tent. 

“Of course, of course. You need anything at all, give us a holler.”

As they left the tent to go to a nearby fire, you slipped into the tent. 

Mrs. Grimshaw looked at you, offering you a little smile. 

“How-How is he?” You made sure to keep your eyes on her. You couldn’t look at Arthur, not yet. You weren’t ready to look at how hurt he was in the oil lamp light. 

“It’s hard to tell right now, darlin.��” She whispered, though Arthur could hear her. “He’s got a bad wound to his shoulder. Needs cleaned. There might be more but he’s stubborn. Didn’t want to talk about what hurt. Just kept askin’ for you.”

You nodded. 

“I can clean him up. Just-Just get me what I need.”

“I’ll get it to you right away.”

You watched Grimshaw leave, taking your bottom lip between your teeth. Your stomach was twisting up into knots. Your palms were clammy as you made fists by your sides. The only thing you could hear was the sound of your heart thumping in your chest and ears. 

“Pumpkin.” Arthur’s voice was raspy. 

Instinctually, you turned your head to look at him. The second your eyes fell on him, the tears you had been so desperately fighting escaped. 

“Oh, pumpkin.” He tried to sit up but winced, his face contorted with pain. 

“Don’t you dare try to get up, Arthur Morgan.” Though you meant to sound stern, your voice quivered. 

“Don’t cry, pumpkin.” Arthur patted the bed next to him. 

You moved to his side, carefully sitting down on the mattress next to him. You placed your hand on his chest, needing to feel him, to know for sure that he was okay. 

His skin was so pale and his shoulder wound looked awful. He didn’t look like he should’ve been alive. 

Arthur took your hand from his chest and kissed your knuckles. 

“I-Arthur, I thought-,”

“I know.” He stopped you, giving your hand a little squeeze. “M’sorry for worryin’ ya.”

You shook your head, bringing your free hand up to wipe your cheeks. 

“Arthur, I was scared I was never going to see you again.”

“That’s silly talk. Ain’t nothin’ gonna keep me from you. You know that.”

“Y/N?” Grimshaw said your name, wanting to announce her arrival before entering. 

“Come in, Susan.” You turned your attention to her. 

She walked in with a bowl of water, a few towels over her shoulder, and a couple other bottles tucked under her arm. 

“Are you gonna let Miss Y/N help you get cleaned up so you can get better for us, Mr. Morgan?”

“M’gonna try, Mrs. Grimshaw.” He let out a little sigh. 

“Well you better try real hard. We need you to get better. This camp can’t operate properly without you.”

“That’s mighty kind of you to say.”

“Only speakin’ the truth.” She placed the items down on the end table and placed her hand on your shoulder. “You let me know if you need a hand with him.”

“Thank you.” You watched her leave.

“Hey, pumpkin?”

“Yes, Arthur?” You looked back at him. His eyes were slowly closing but he seemed to be fighting the urge to fall asleep. “Arthur Morgan, you can’t sleep just yet.”

“I know, I know.” He brought his right hand up to rub his eyes, wincing when he accidentally bumped the cut below his eye. “M’not trying to.”

“Let’s get you cleaned up then so you can get to bed.” You pulled the knife off of your hip and moved to the side of the bed. Arthur watched you, trusting you enough to know you wouldn’t hurt him. 

“Just gonna get your union suit off of you.”

“Guess I’m lucky you know how to use a knife.”

“Don’t move and we’ll be fine.” You teased a little.

You unbuttoned the chest of his union suit, then used the knife to cut the arms.

In the dim light provided by the oil lamps, you could see dark blue and purple bruises on his sides and along his ribcage. You’d have to check on those later. For now, you needed to tend to his shoulder wound. 

“Already took the bullet out. You don’t gotta dig around in there.”

“Good. You’re still not gonna like this.” You picked up a bottle of liquor that rested on the ground next to the bed. 

“Shit.” Arthur mumbled. 

“I’m sorry.” You murmured.

“It’s fine, pumpkin. You gotta do it.”

You picked up a towel Grimshaw had brought and began to pour a decent amount of the liquor on to the wound. Arthur tensed up, his fingers curling around the bedding beneath him. 

“Ah, fuck!”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, darlin’.” You repeated softly, gently wiping away the excess liquor that spilled down his arm. It broke your heart to know it was hurting him, but this would clean the wound and hopefully keep it from getting infected. 

You moved towards the chest at the foot of the bed. Arthur’s eyes followed you.

“You’re awfully quiet.”

You said nothing. 

“Usually you’re always askin’ me questions about where I been and who I met on my travels. What animals I ran into.”

“I know what animals you ran into.” You pulled a roll of clean bandages from the chest then returned to his side. “I-I don’t know that I can handle it tonight, Arthur.”

“Pumpkin, everything’s fine-,”

“Everything is not fine, Arthur!” You cut him off, raising your voice as you looked down at him. “You are not fine! You don’t sound fine! You sound half fucking dead and you look worse than that! All because Micah thought there was some sort of rekindling this fucking fued between Dutch and Colm!”

Arthur stayed silent. 

You unraveled the bandages, calming down just a little so you no longer yelled at him. 

“I swear, Arthur. I’ve never seen Dutch make more stupid decisions than he has since we’ve taken in Micah Bell.”

“Micah’s got that effect on people.”

“It’s funny you think this is some joke, Arthur.” You shook your head, sitting down on the edge of the bed next to him. “You think this is some joke when you almost didn’t make it home-,”

“Hey.” He firmly stopped you, brows drawing together. “Nothin’ was gonna stop me from makin’ it home to you. I already said that. I know you were scared and I know no matter how much I tell you you had no reason to be scared it won’t make a difference. But I’m here now aren’t I?”

“Barely.” You murmured.

“Well I ain’t leavin’ this camp until I’m a hundred and ten percent better. That could be weeks.” He paused for a moment to let the words sink in. “Weeks of me not leavin’ your side for jobs or for travelin’ days away.”

A little smile began to form on your lips. 

“Weeks of me followin’ you around like a lost dog.”

“That sounds pleasant.”

Arthur chuckled.

You began to wrap his shoulder, the smile still lingering on your lips. 

“I like that idea.”

“Maybe I’ll have to get hurt more often.”

“Arthur.” You narrowed your eyes at him.

“Just jokin’ with you, pumpkin.”

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If your name is in italics, it wouldn’t let me tag you :(

[porkchop-ao3]

A Thrill I’ve Never Known (Chapter 37)

Horsemen, Apocalypses Part.2

A continuation from the last chapter, Arthur tries to deal with what has happened to reader. Contains: angst, some gory details, fluff. 

(All chapters tagged with #ATINK and also posted on Ao3, username PorkChop)

-

Eventually, Hosea – one of the few men who had joined us in the house – rose to his feet and called out to Dutch from the top of the stairs. 

"They're gone! You can come down now, though be prepared, there's rather a lot of…" Dutch called back, trailing off. "Pearson, Miss Grimshaw?" 

"Come on folks, whoever can stomach it, get to work," Susan exclaimed, standing up as if nothing had just gone on, like everyone in the room wasn't at least a little bit scarred and practically needed a clean change of underwear. She was one hell of a woman, Miss Grimshaw.

I got up – well, dragged myself up on the balustrade – hugging the bucket to my chest. My nausea hadn't shifted, but I forced myself to move and headed for the stairs. 

"Not you, we only just stopped the bleeding, you move too much it'll start up again," Susan warned, holding me back as people started filing down the stairs to help out. Some hung back, notably Molly and Mary-Beth, and Abigail with little Jack. I couldn't blame them, I certainly wasn't rushing downstairs to haul bodies about, I was rushing to see Arthur, see that he was safe, and to show him that I was.

Even so, I let everyone who was going to help pass first, only descending when Miss Grimshaw was gone and the stairway was clear. My legs shook every step down, so I held tightly to the banister. I met Arthur with one foot on the first step, heading up, he sighed out my name in relief and ran up to meet me halfway. 

"You gonna help with these bodies, Arthur?" Dutch asked, not looking our way. Arthur's whole aura shifted at that; his face dropped into an irritated snarl, his shoulders hunched up and he looked about a second away from lashing out. 

"We've got enough help, he's excused. Come on, Dutch, that girl was a hair's breadth from being killed today," Miss Grimshaw, the absolute angel, fought our corner.  

"Very well," Dutch responded, his tone unhappy, yet accepting.

"Come on, princess," Arthur whispered, turning me around and sending me back upstairs. 

I picked up the bucket of water still on the landing on the way to Arthur's room, and checked that there wasn't any stray blood on my backside before sitting down on his bed with it.

"I'm so goddamn relieved. Angel, I thought– I don't know. All I saw was you covered in blood an-and–” Arthur shook his head and dropped to his knees in front of me, gripping my hands, "those bastards," he breathed, closing his eyes and burying his face in my lap. 

His hair was damp with sweat, and I could smell its muskiness mixed with the metallic scent of blood.

"I'm okay," I murmured vacantly, somewhat stunned to have him nuzzling into my lap, his breaths laboured and unsteady. 

"I'm sorry I didn't stay with you, I would've.”

"I know, you had to be there for the others."

"Princess, I'm so sorry. So goddamn sorry, I can't even begin to tell you," he lifted his head and my heart skipped at the sight of his wet eyes, "you don't deserve any of this, you'd never– if it weren't for me, this gang, having you here where you don't belong–"

"I don't belong?" I squeaked and Arthur shook his head harshly, squeezing his eyes shut. 

"Not that– this ain't no life for you. You're too good for this. You ain't never hurt anyone and this is exactly what I was scared of; you having to use that goddamn gun when I know it ain't like you."

"It's not your fault," I shook my head, my voice was hollow sounding, my heart too full of emotions for any single one to let another show, so I just seemed empty.

"You're a good person. I'm more certain of that than anything and in this gang you're gonna be changed, you're gonna get hurt and you'll end up seeing yourself become someone else and you won't be able to do nothing about it, trust me, I've seen it," Arthur spoke through clenched teeth, his eyes fixed on my chest, his hands squeezing mine so tight, "and it'll be my fault 'cause I never gave you the chance to go."

"Arthur, don't, I don't know what you're saying, you're making me nervous," my vision turned blurry, obscured by light shining on the moisture forming in my eyes.

"I'm sorry, angel," he shook his head, "I think it's worth considerin' getting out of here. You, I mean, just go; someplace safe."

"What?!" I gasped, shaking my head. He let go of my hands, lifting his, holding a finger up to me and shushing me softly. It was useless, everything overwhelmed me and I started to cry.

"Listen, listen, just for a while. You find somewhere quiet and at some point I'll join you, just– money. I need some money, this trolley job, I don't know, I just need enough and then I'll… I can go to you, and we… we can," he ran out of steam as he spoke, losing faith in his own idea, it seemed, "this is all such a mess."

I sniffed and dragged a hand across my cheek to dry my tears, then pushed my hand through my hair. My fingers tangled in clumpy stickiness and I realised my hair was far from clean. I picked something hard out of the rat's nest on my head, and almost vomited when I realised it was a piece of skull. I sobbed, fumbling for the bucket of water on the floor. Arthur helped me lift it and held it steady on my lap for me, his eyes distant as he thought deeply. I cupped handfuls of water and scrubbed at my hair, it tangled and knotted and was a complete mess but I did my best with what I had. I was so desperate for a bath, but I had to look somewhat presentable before heading out to Saint Denis to get one.

"I'm not going anywhere," I told him, breath shaky from crying, squeezing the orange water out of my hair, "I don't want to leave you, not knowing anything about where you are or what you're doing, not knowing if you've been caught by lawmen or killed. God no."

"No," he shook his head in understanding, "and maybe I can't send you away, maybe I'm too scared and selfish to do so. Christ, I don't know what to do. Why am I so fucking stupid?"

"Arthur, stop. You're not stupid and you ain't gotta know what to do. There's nothing we can do. I'm not leaving, not unless it's with you. And I can't ask you for that," I shook my head, moving the bucket of water aside once my hair felt a little better.

Arthur took my hands in his again, squeezing them, shuffling closer so his chest was pressed firm against my knees and our faces were closer. 

"One day," he said, his head bobbing, "one day you will. I'll save some money, baby, and when the time is right…"

"The gang."

"Baby," his face crumpled with hurt and he tilted his head, "life keeps on making me choose, I can't keep making the same choice, getting nothin' but pain for it. I just need time, closure, I need to make sure these people they– they have a future," he spoke so quietly, like he was scared of who would hear.

I stared at him through the blurring of my eyes, my lip trembling. I didn't want to hear these words from him. I was terrified that they'd hurt me; whether he'd go back on them one day, or he'd live by them and I'd forever bear the guilt of him leaving his family for me. 

"All I want is you," he breathed, wrapping a hand around the back of my neck and carefully pulling me down so our foreheads touched, "if I lost you… today put things into perspective for me, showed me just how much I– these things are hard for me to say, I'm scared if I say it, it's willing something bad to happen."

"I think I know," I told him through a sob.

"Yeah, you know. You're smart," he nodded, a shadow of a smile on his lips. 

"I know 'cause I feel the same," I breathed and his eyes closed against tears that he refused to let go of. "Of course I do, you're all that matters to me. You and Rayna– Rayna!" I suddenly jumped and Arthur squeezed my hand, shushing me soothingly.

"All the horses are fine, she's fine," he reassured me, and I sighed in relief, "nobody got hurt besides you… are you in pain?"

I shook my head weakly. "Only a little bit," I told him, despite actually being in a fair bit of pain. A constant burning.

"I'm so sorry you had to go through that," he murmured, then pressed a soft kiss to my lips, "that was too damn close."

"I'll be okay."

"What happened, exactly? Why were you over there?"

"I was tending to the horses and I heard a struggle. I think they were gonna kill Kieran. One of 'em was going for his gun and so I– if I hadn't shot him– I didn't want to kill anyone but I–" I sighed and squeezed my eyes shut. 

Arthur got up and sat beside me on the bed, encircling me with his arms and pulling me tight into his chest, pressing his mouth to the top of my head. 

"Don't you feel bad at all, you did what you had to. I'm proud of you, my darlin', I know it wouldn't've been easy for you."

"I need to thank Charles, if it wasn't for him, if he'd been half a second later," I shook my head, shuddering at the thought. Having my throat slit sounded like one of the worst ways to go.

"He's a good man, Charles," I felt him nod, "people like him, it's the reason I can't just leave all this without looking back."

"I know. It's okay."

"Sweetheart, I don't know what I can say, just… when the timing's right, you and me," he whispered, "right now, there ain't enough money and there's too much going on. Just know that I fully intend to give you a better life."

"Just focus on your family, Arthur, whatever happens, as long as you're safe and I'm with you, I don't care about anything else," I told him. 

"My family… you're family, now. Angel, if things get worse," he started with a heavy sigh, "if things get real bad, and it's safer for you to be someplace else, away from me…"

"Arthur," I shook my head and turned, pressing my face into his chest. 

"Just think about it, please. You ain't done anything the law knows about, they ain't lookin' at you. If you can get away and be safe if things go crazy, it'd make me feel much better," he pleaded with me, swaying just a little, moving us both gently. 

"As long as you promise me you'd come back to me."

"Of course I would."

"My apologies for the intrusion," Dutch spoke, his voice coming out of nowhere, I hadn't heard anyone approach. Both Arthur and I jumped at his words and looked up to the open door.

Dutch was glancing between the two of us, his expression bare of any emotion, impossible to interpret. He focused on me after a moment. 

"I came to see how you're doing, Miss Grimshaw explained that you'd been shaken up pretty good," he asked in a surprisingly gentle tone of voice. Or it was flat and emotionless, I couldn't quite tell.

"Oh, thank you," I said, then looked up at Arthur who's face betrayed his discomfort. He looked like someone caught red handed; I wondered how long Dutch had been standing there, whether he'd heard anything we'd said. "I'm alright," I added.

"You saved that boy; Kieran. I'm sure he'll wanna thank you properly," he told me and I shifted uncomfortably. In all honesty, I'd been saving myself when I pulled the gun. I felt a little fraudulent.

"Well, I'm just glad we all got out of that mess alive."

"Me too, Miss," he nodded, "Arthur, I realise I was perhaps a little short with you today. I hope you understand, I was simply looking out for everyone here, and we were all on edge."

"I understand," Arthur responded without hesitation, the words coming out quick and curt. 

"So, you two are serious about each other?"

"Yes," Arthur told him.

"Alright, Arthur. I suppose this has been going on for a while, now, and I get the distinct impression I was the last to know."

"It weren't on purpose–" Arthur started, but Dutch held up his hand.

"I won't ask why you hid it. But I don't like secrets," he interrupted, and we remained quiet until he continued, "anyway, you use this evening to relax, get your head clear; tomorrow, meet me in Saint Denis for the trolley station job. We need money, and we need it fast so we can get out of here."

"Okay, Dutch," Arthur nodded. 

"I'll leave you two in peace," were his parting words. He looked to me once more, nodding his head politely before leaving. He never smiled, though, and it unnerved me.

Arthur took my hand in his, running his fingers in light swirls across the back of it. He must've felt the way it was shaking. 

"You should eat something," he told me, "let's go see if there's anything left in Pearson's pot, hm?" 

"I won't be able to stomach eating till I've had a proper bath," I sighed.

"Well then, let's ride to the city and get you one," he gave me a small but warm smile.

I nodded my head and he led me by the hand out of his room and downstairs. The gang had been working hard to clean the mess up, evidently, since it looked as though nothing had happened. All of the bodies were gone, and everyone had gone back to their business; granted, there was an atmosphere of tension, but still. Things were almost normal, I had no idea how it could've happened so quickly, but it did. Perhaps these people were used to being shot at and ambushed. That was an unpleasant thought.

The ride to Saint Denis went quickly, and I got my bath at the saloon while Arthur waited at the bar for me, sipping on a beer. I scrubbed every inch of my body using way too much soap, and despite all of Susan and I's efforts earlier, the water was still a grimy orange colour by the time I was done. But I was clean. 

I had the horrifying experience of having to dig a piece of bone out of my upper chest, right above my collar bone. It had buried itself pretty deep and I was left with a chunk of my own skin missing, but I refused to stop digging until I was sure it was all gone. Having someone's head shot off with a shotgun right in front of me was an experience I only needed once, and it'd certainly stay with me. I contemplated joining Arthur in the bar and having a lot of drinks to take my mind off of it, but I knew it wouldn't do me any favours, so instead we just headed back to camp. 

Besides, my appetite was beginning to come back after getting cleaned up, and my stomach reminded me that I hadn't eaten all day.

We made it back before the sun began to set and Arthur sat with me after I'd grabbed a bowl of stew. Hosea came and asked how I was doing in that paternal way of his, squeezing my shoulder and telling me he was proud of me for stepping in the way I did. Stepping in? I'd walked into it like an idiot and almost got myself killed, but okay, I thought. 

"I think this belongs to you," a low, cool voice spoke as my revolver was placed down on the table next to me. 

"Charles," I breathed when I looked up at him, opening my mouth to thank him, but he held his hand up to me. 

"Don't thank me, I should've stopped you in the first place," he told me, and I shook my head. 

"No, that was my stupid fault. I knew something was wrong but it didn't occur to me to just wait until you got to me."

"You just did what you thought was right, I should've known you were walking into danger and done something about it. I was on guard, it was my responsibility."

"Charles, you saved my life. I was silly and got myself into that situation, you got me out of it. Thank you," I took his hand – he looked down at it, his eyes widening slightly at the unexpected touch – and squeezed it.

"Thank you, Charles," Arthur said, and I felt his hand touch the small of my back, "if anything worse had happened… I'm just glad you got there when you did."

Charles looked like he didn't know what to do with the thanks and he shook his head dismissively. 

"Well, I am too. How's your neck?" He asked.

I let go of his hand and touched the bandage around my throat, reminded of the tenderness of the fresh wound.

"It'll heal up soon enough. It only broke the skin," I explained, as Javier took a seat opposite me on the table with a bowl of stew of his own. 

"Maybe one day you an' me will have matching scars, huh muñequita?" Javier said, tugging at his neckerchief, loosening it enough to reveal the ghost of a wound similar to mine, raised pink flesh, the kind of scar that caused goosebumps to look at. 

I didn't know what to say to him. 

"Hey, I know it's scary, right? The feeling of the blade… but trust me, you'll learn to love that scar," he said, then a smirk danced on the corner of his lips, "it's told a lot of guys I ain't one to be messed with. And ladies tend to like it, too."

I chuckled, though even I could tell it was lackluster. Javier gave me a small smile of understanding, and I appreciated the people around me for their kindness, even when the more time went on, I felt like a fool for what had happened. 

I finished my stew and Arthur and I were about to head back inside and up to his room when Kieran approached, all nervous and quiet but with a sense of urgency, almost. I'd spotted him earlier on, out in the gazebo with Mary-Beth, they'd shared a kiss. It was hard to tell from the angle and distance whether it was on the lips or on the cheek, if it was one of good friendship or something more, either way I never drew attention to it. Especially not to Kieran himself.

"I just wanna say, thank you, Miss. You didn't have to do what y' did, you could've just hightailed it in the opposite direction to save your own skin, but you stayed and you helped me," he said to me on the porch by the front door. 

I shifted on my feet, feeling my face pinch unintentionally. 

"I acted on a snap decision. I pulled my gun because he was doin' the same, I don't think I deserve much thanks," I mumbled and Arthur – who was right beside me – squeezed my hand. 

"Well, I felt hopeless, thought I was a goner for real. Thought no one was coming," he explained, looking up at Arthur hesitantly before stepping a bit closer and continuing under his breath, "truth be told, I ain't ever felt much like one of you folk. I thought what with my ties to the O'Driscolls, all of y'all weren't ever gonna trust me. But what you did; that made me feel somethin', Miss. I appreciate it."

"I trust you," I countered, saddened to hear him speak like that. 

"Thank you," he smiled softly, his posture shifting to one of pleasant surprise, "after what happened today, people have been real nice to me. I guess I feel a little more like I… like I belong here, you know?"

I nodded and smiled at him. "I'm glad, Kieran. I hope those bastards leave you alone, now, just don't go too far out of sight from now on, where we can't come and help if anything goes wrong. It was just lucky I was standing where I was."

"We both had pretty lucky escapes, huh?"

"Very lucky."

"Thank you, again. I know you don't think you did much, but I really do appreciate it. I'll let you get on, now," he dipped his head then strode away with an awkward little smile. 

I turned to Arthur, who seemed amused. 

"That kid…" he mused, "he really don't feel like one of us?"

"Well, yeah. People ain't all that kind to him. Including you, so I hear," I poked him in the chest then entered the house. I heard Arthur chuckle as he followed me inside and up the stairs. 

"It's all in good fun, you know. He's a good enough feller, could use some bigger balls, though," he commented. I glanced over my shoulder at him and narrowed my eyes.

"Maybe he'd grow 'em if he settled in more."

"Maybe. Does this mean I gotta stop flicking my cigarette ash in his bedroll?"

"Oh, Arthur Morgan. You'd better be joking." 

He snickered. "Ahh, course I am. He ain't even got a bedroll."

I rolled my eyes and shook my head.

When we got to his room, Arthur found my satchel sitting on my bedroll. Wordlessly, he peered inside it and retrieved my sketchbook and pencil, handing them over to me before plopping himself down on his bed, patting the space before him. I gave him a quizzical look as he retrieved his own journal and smiled at me.

"Take a seat, we're gonna do some drawing together. We said we would. Might not be as nice as sitting in a pretty meadow like last time, but it's still you an' me, being together," he said. I humoured him, sitting down cross-legged at the end of his bed, turning so we were facing each other.

"You wanna do this?" I asked, concerned that he was just doing this out of obligation, because he felt like he needed to babysit me after such an intense day. 

"Of course. Drawing helps clear my mind, maybe this'll be good for both of us. You still like drawing, don't you?"

"Yeah, even more so since you gave me this," I told him, flipping through my sketchbook. 

I'd filled quite a few pages since Arthur had given it to me; I often drew in the evening when people were winding down for the day. I had sketches of a few members of the gang, some done without them noticing, some done because they'd asked me to after seeing what I was doing; as in Sean's case. I lingered on the page with his portrait, remembering the evening I had done it. He took posing for me seriously, I'd never seen him sit so still. Oh, Sean. For a moment I was sad that I never spent more time with him while I still could.

I took a breath and carried on flipping through until I reached a blank page, then looked up at Arthur. "Can I draw you again?"

"Sure. Maybe I could draw you?" He asked hopefully. 

"Oh, okay then. I've never been drawn by someone else before," I giggled, shifting on the bed and bringing a hand over my hair to ensure it looked neat. 

"Sure you have," Arthur told me with a cheeky little smile on his face, his eyes cast down to his journal as he opened it up to a blank page. I flushed, recalling my conversation with Tilly, when she'd mentioned seeing him drawing me. I hadn't been sure whether to believe her at the time. 

"Knowingly, anyway," I added coquettishly, "maybe one day you'll show me?"

"Maybe," he said in a light, playful voice, "come on, while we still have a little daylight. Ain't the same by lantern light."

"Oh, you sound like a proper artist."

Arthur snorted. "I don't know about that."

And so we spend the evening alone, sat cross-legged, face to face on the bed, simply drawing each other.