#arthur moragn x reader

[cowboisadness]

Found You {Arthur Morgan x F!reader}

Summery: She was there for Arthur through everything, being more than good friends but less than partners. They support eachother through the good and bad times, it’s not love tho, no, it’s not love at all.

Rating: M. Basically porn with plot. More plot than i planned i really got carried away with this. I’m mean to Mary i’m sorry. Includes angst, heartbreak and all that painful shit.

—–

Chapter 2 - Lost

He's piss drunk, I can smell it in the air and he's nursing an almost empty bottle of aged pirate rum. The strong stuff. He doesn't say a word as I sit beside him, not too close to invade his space, just far enough for him to know I'm here if he needs me.

I've never seen him this broken, his eyes puffy and unable to concentrate on anything around him. He tries, tries to concentrate on the flames ahead of him, they illuminate his face in a bright orange hue, dancing across his saddened features. I want nothing more than to embrace him at that moment, hold him tight and tell him he's going to be okay, that it's going to be better, that the pain will diminish with time, that I will be here for him through it all.

He lets out a shaken sigh as he takes in a breath, not looking to me before he speaks.

“She doesn't want me no more.” It’s barely above a whisper and I can't tell if he's saying it to me or himself. My body is screaming, my heart aching, remembering the promise I made to myself almost two years ago when we first started getting closer, that I would do everything in my power to protect him from any suffering. I instinctively moved towards him with haste, pulling him close and enveloping him in my arms. At first, I thought he would refuse and push me away but he didn’t, he leaned into my embrace, accepting the blanket of support I could give him, that I always gave him.

He hadn't eaten or drank properly for days, and after much persistence from him, I finally got him to eat something, saying I wasn't going to stop until he did. Urging him to drink my water instead of booze, knowing he would thank me tomorrow. When exhaustion finally took over, we retired into his tent, holding each other close but not going further than that. Fucking was how we used to manage our emotions, but this situation demanded something more delicate, I just hoped being here would help him. As he quickly fell into what I hoped would be a peaceful sleep, I tightened my grip around his waist and whispered: “You don't know what you mean to me.”

He wouldn't come back with me the next morning, saying he needed a few more days and promised to return soon. He did of course, then resuming to get back to business with jobs and helping the camp, seemingly pushing his feelings to the bottom of his heart and into the depths of his brain.

He seemed to get better over the months, us both flinging ourselves into jobs and robberies. It was almost like the good old days, his spark was back, he wasn't hurting or worrying anymore.

That was until he received a letter from a woman I never heard of, telling him of his son he now has. He explained it all to me, how he had met a beautiful young waitress on the night I had left him. He said he wasn't thinking straight, that his emotions made him confused, the alcohol making him desperate to feel something other than the pain.

He tried his best to be there for them when he could, sending money and visiting every couple of months. He would tell me how Isaac was doing, that he taught him how to fish and planned on teaching him to ride when he was a bit older. He was proud of his son but it pained him that he couldn't do more for them, the gang always had to come first. I was there for all the stories and even helped him choose gifts for Isaacs birthdays, giving whatever advice I could give on raising a child, not that I knew much. After a few years disaster struck, Eliza and Isaac were murdered for the little money that they owned. Arthur didn't know till he saw the two crosses by the cabin, their names etched into the dark wood. I thought he was broken when Mary left him, but this, losing something so pure and innocent, it ruined him. He changed dramatically, keeping to himself, closing himself off to everyone else. No matter how much I tried to get him to open up he would dismiss me with harsh words, no longer willing to accept mine or anyone else's support. I refused to break the promise I made to myself years ago and whether he knew it or not, I'd still support and look out for him whenever I could, even though it would be at a distance. Dutch and Hosea tried to help, they knew the pain of losing a loved one. Hosea suffered the most after Bessie passed, he turned to the bottle for a full year, losing himself and almost his mind. The ever-loving father figure didn't want the same to happen to someone he saw as his son. The five of us, including John and Tilly, would talk about his decline, how he seemed to close off his heart and become cold. We tried to distract him, help him to forget or cope in ways that would stop him becoming the shell of the man he once was.

The gang had grown a great deal within a couple of years. You would believe having a supportive family around you would assist in not feeling alone and prevent you from hitting rock-bottom. But when someone relentlessly denies any and all support from those around them, they can't be helped. Not until they realise they need it. I lost the Arthur I fell for years ago - No - I don't have those sort of feelings for him, never have.

Over the next few years the gang ran into the worst trouble we have ever gotten ourselves into, we had to flee into the harsh mountains and leave the west behind us before heading back down south when it was safer. We lost people, good people, lost a lot of money and supplies, basically starting from scratch once we made camp in Horseshoe Overlook, hiding from the law, large bounties over a few of our heads.

It was here Arthur received a letter from Mary asking for help. It brought back many hard memories for Arthur, unearthing his old emotions from the depths. He bent to her will of course, but after he visited her to help with whatever she wanted he found nothing would become of them again, a small part of him hoped there was a chance.

He was suffering again, confused again.

Mary was using him, using his still evident feelings for her to her advantage. Did she know how this was affecting him? Did she care? Seeing him being drawn back to her despite knowing it wouldn't work out, well, it enraged me, more than it probably should have. He had pushed me away not long after the loss of Eliza and Isaac, no longer was I able to be the one he could confide in but by God, I wasn't going to stand on the sidelines and watch him get hurt by her again.

I loved him too much to see that happen. I made a promise.

[the-mill-kat]

Unshaken Chapter II

Arthur Morgan x Reader

Posted March 13, 2020

“Unshaken” Masterlist  “Unshaken” AO3

A/N: It’s finally here! I’m so excited to be moving this story along, please enjoy and let me know what you think. I can’t wait to write more! 🤠🦌

You save a mysterious man who is dying on a mountain. Finding out he has Tuberculosis, you use your knowledge and skills with herbs and natural remedies to save him from death and help nurse him back to health. As he slowly starts to recover, you can’t help but wonder: Who is this man? Why had you found him the way that you did, beaten and ill? Only time, patience … and perhaps love … will tell.

A large buck.

Arthur narrowed his eyes as he saw the creature in the distance, its head bent to the ground as it nipped at the blades of grass. He could’ve sworn he’d seen it before, but where the hell was he this time?

He looked around, taking in the hazy surroundings. The forest was thick with tall trees and wild foliage, the flora consisting of many different and beautiful colors. He could hear birds tittering high up in the branches as the sun’s rays shined through the trees’ thick canopies.

Was he dreaming again?

Arthur tried moving, taking a single step forward —

The buck jerked its head up from where it was grazing, looking over in his direction, directly into his eyes.

Arthur froze, his entire body going still as he looked into those eyes …

They were his own.

A single heartbeat sounded, and suddenly he felt a strong pull as he was sucked right into the stare.

Arthur jerked awake, his eyes opening as he let out a hard gasp. The sudden inhale caused a sharp pain to stab through his chest and he grimaced, letting out a deep groan.

He blinked, a mysterious bright light nearly blinding him. With a grunt he grimaced as he made an effort to lift his head. Sunlight was shining directly on his face, and he couldn’t see a damn thing. His vision was so blurry and he blinked a few more times in an effort to clear it up. Looking around, he tried to take in his surroundings.

Where the hell was he? The last thing he remembered was the feeling of the unforgiving rocky ground. Now he felt nothing but soft cushions beneath his body.

Arthur looked down and noticed that a thick wool blanket was covering him up from his shoulders down. He seemed to be lying on a large couch ... in someone’s house?

He tried to move, but his body didn’t obey. It felt almost as though his limbs were completely paralyzed, as if he’d been drugged. His entire body might as well have been a limp wooden board.

Gathering up all the energy he could, he gradually brought his hand up from his side and lightly gripped the hem of the blanket. Lifting it up slowly, he looked down and saw that he was naked from the waist up, and his entire upper body had been patched up in several areas with thick bandages. Some more bloody than others.

What the hell had happened?

Voices started drifting into his head and he looked around, trying to figure out where they were coming from. He took in the cobblestone fireplace on the other side of the room, a full bookshelf, a couple sitting chairs — whose place was this? There was an open doorway across the room, and the voices seemed to be coming from there. The voices sounded like a man and woman — arguing?

“We can’t afford to be takin’ care of this stranger, Y/N! We’re barely gettin’ by as it is.” The man’s voice sounded angry, having a slight southern touch to his accent.

Stranger? Were they talking about him?

“For the last time, Austin, his name is Arthur! And you need to quit your complainin’!” A woman’s voice that time. Her voice had a somewhat southern lilt to it as well, similar to the man’s but a bit stronger. Who were these people?

Arthur squinted, trying to recall what had happened. He had no clue where he was — how did he get here? No matter how hard he tried he couldn’t seem to remember a damn thing.

Arthur frowned, suddenly realizing that the woman had said his name. How did she know it?

“I don’t give a damn what his name is! You’re wastin’ all our resources on a stranger who’s on the brink of death as it is,” the man snapped.

“This man needed help, Austin. What was I supposed to do? Just leave him there?”

The man named Austin seemed relentless. “You could’ve been killed, Y/N! It could’ve been a trap, what if it’d been an ambush? What would I have told Pa if you’d gotten hurt?”

Y/N … he could’ve sworn he heard that name before. A blurry image of a woman’s face flashed through his mind, and he groaned as the vision caused a sharp stabbing pain in his head.

“I’m sick and tired of arguin’ with you on this, Austin. Nothing bad happened, and I don’t know what else to tell you. You need to get over this already!”

The voices stopped then, and the woman Arthur had been hearing suddenly appeared in the doorway across the room. She stilled right in her tracks, seeming to notice that he had woken up.

•••••

You were getting weary of Austin’s squabbles.

No matter how many times you tried to make your brother see reason he absolutely refused to hear it. Austin had completely lost all rational thought when it came to Arthur’s presence in the cabin, and he took every opportunity he could to remind you how stupid he thought you were for what you did.

You were tired of his behavior, though. Of course, you knew Austin loved you — though he sure had a funny way of showing it sometimes — but his over-protective nature could get a little grating, more often than not. However, he was family, and you couldn’t blame him for wanting to keep you safe.

Still, though, his bellyaching was getting rather annoying. For the past three days Austin had been constantly on your back about you taking the injured man into your cabin and caring for him, and his anger was really starting to irk you.

Really, what else could you have possibly done?

This man … Arthur … he would’ve died on that mountain had you not found him. He’d looked so defenseless, so cold and weak, lying on that unforgiving ground. You knew deep down that you would not have been able to live with yourself had you just left him there.

You turned away from Austin, ready to storm right out of the cabin. There would never be any persuading your brother, and you could no longer stand to be in the same room with him anymore.

Planning to step outside to walk off your frustrations and get some fresh air, you abruptly halted in the doorway to the sitting room at the sight before you.

Arthur was awake, his eyes staring directly at you from across the room. You smiled and walked over to him, kneeling down by his side so that you were face-to-face. “Mornin’, Arthur,” you said in a gentle tone, “How’re you feelin’?”

He didn’t answer right away, seeming to examine you further with his blue-green eyes.

After several seconds passed, he opened his mouth but Austin suddenly came rushing into the room, addressing Arthur with an aggressive tone, “If you dare try anythin’ stupid, cowpoke, I’ll make sure you — ”

You’d had enough, you snapped your head around and glared at your brother, “Get out of here, Austin! Go check on the horses, clean the stables. I don’t care, just get the hell out!”

Austin gave you a pained look, “Y/N, I don’t want you near this man, especially when he’s awake,” he said, adding the last part through gritted teeth. Then he lowered his voice, his tone sounding worried, “What if he tries to harm you?”

You almost felt the strong need to roll your eyes. “Does he look like the sort of man that would try to harm me?”

Austin shot his gaze at Arthur and then back at you, “Yes.”

A short laugh escaped you at the disgusted expression he was making. You couldn’t help it, your brother’s lack of hesitation and how quick he’d been with his answer was almost comical. “Austin, the man is unwell and drugged. He’s not going to try anything on me, not even if he wanted to.”

Austin looked a bit skeptical, but finally gave a reluctant nod. “Fine, I’ll be outside choppin’ wood and takin’ care of the horses,” he shot another glare at Arthur as if in warning, adding darkly, “Shout if you need anythin’.”

You let out a sigh, and gave your brother a reassuring smile. “I’ll be fine. Just let me take care of him, please.”

Austin let out a hard grunt, then turned away and left the cabin through the front door, finally leaving you and the conscious Arthur alone.

You looked back down at Arthur to see that he was staring up at you with a confused expression on his face, those thick brows drawn down tight over his blue-green eyes.

“I’ve got — ” he took a deep breath and let out a long groan “ — so many damn questions.” Another big breath, his chest rising and falling as he flinched. He sounded exasperated, his tone dark and rough, “What the hell’s … goin’ on?”

His voice was much stronger than it had been before, having a heavily accented western drawl to it. It was deep, heavy … how in the world could any man possess such a voice?

You shook yourself away from that thought, focusing on what he’d just said. “Can you remember anything about what happened?” You asked, reaching out and lifting up the thick blanket to examine the old bandages.

Arthur just shook his head in response, “No … can’t say I can.”

After he’d given you his name the other day, he’d passed out soon afterwards from the drug you’d given him. You’d gone to work immediately on examining, cleaning and dressing the wounds on the rest of his body. Since then you’d changed the dressing a couple more times, and now it looked like it was time to do it again.

“Where am I?” He asked you as you stood up to walk into the kitchen and wash your hands in the sink.

The drugs that were being given to him were messing with his memory, but that was to be expected. The anesthetic on top of the herbs you had been treating him with for the past few days were having side effects on him, temporarily clouding up his mind. The medicinal properties tended to have strange and similar side effects on animals you’d treated in the past, making them behave rather strangely.

Treating a human … it was almost foreign.

“You’re in our cabin,” you answered him, “just north of Roanoke Ridge, we live right above Cerberus Falls, near Brandywine.” Once you finished drying your hands with a fresh cloth, you went over to your office, gathering fresh medicinal supplies from your desk.

“How’d I get here?” He asked, taking another deep breath. He let out a hard cough, and you looked over your shoulder to see that he was trying to sit up.

Rushing back over to him, you quickly set the supplies on the side table and placed a hand on his chest, gently pushing to urge him to lay back down.

“You need to lie still.” Keeping you tone soft in an effort to soothe him, you wondered about his last question. Had he forgotten everything from the other night? “We heard gunshots and my brother Austin and I found you on a mountain near O’Creagh’s Run.” You urged him down with your hand until he was lying flat on his back again. “We brought you back here, and I’ve been taking care of you for the past few days — but you have a long while until you’re well enough to get back on your feet.”

He narrowed his eyes at you, as if he were trying to remember the events of that night. “You found me on the mountain?” He asked, his voice graveled.

“Yes.” You took the blanket off of him and set it on the floor, getting to work on taking off the old bandages. “You were extremely weak, you were bleeding and having trouble breathing.”

Those last words made his eyes widen, as if he was suddenly frightened by something.

Instantly Arthur tried to sit up again, his upper body shooting up and startling you, but you quickly overcame your surprise and tried to get him to settle down. Placing a firm hand on his chest, you pushed him back down, trying to get him to relax. “Please, Arthur, I need you to stay still.”

“Get away from me, woman,” he snapped, struggling against your hold. You weren’t all that strong to hold such a large man down, but the state he was in helped in your favor.

You glared at him then, “My name is Y/N, not ‘woman.’ Everything is alright, Arthur, please calm down.” You were trying to keep your voice low in an effort to calm his nerves, but it wasn’t helping. “Please, you really need to rest.”

“No,” he said firmly, almost sounding fearful as he let out another cough. “I got TB, I don’t want … you gettin’ sick cuz of me.”

His unexpected words touched you, almost taking you aback. Here he was, hurt and bare, and he was trying to put you before his own health … even though he barely knew you.

“Arthur, it’s alright,” you said softly, “You won’t get me sick. I got treatments to prevent that from happening.”

Arthur suddenly stopped his struggles, his head turning back to you with a mixed look of surprise and confusion plastered on his face. “Treatments?” He asked, his voice matching the expression he made.

You nodded, “Yes, I’m a doctor that specializes in experimenting on natural remedies for diseases. Tuberculosis is one of them.” You began washing his wounds and redressing them with fresh bandages. Some of them were still more raw than others, but they were already looking much better than they’d had before.

As you worked on securing the bandages, you felt Arthur’s gaze on you. You tried to ignore the stare at first as you finished patching him up, but it went on for so long you couldn’t help but start to feel a little uncomfortable.

“What?” You asked, finally allowing yourself to look up at him as you finished the last patch.

“You … you treat TB?”

You hesitated for a moment, then nodded, “Yes, kind of … though this is my first time doing it on a human.”

His squinted at that, so you were quick to jump in and explain. “It’s the same process. Most species’ lungs are similar to each other,” You started rambling, talking faster and faster as you pretended to be busy with checking his bandages, even though they were already secure. All the while you could feel his scrutinizing gaze on you. “You were about to die, so I didn’t see the harm in trying to treat you — I gave you different doses based on your size —and I … and I needed to flush your lungs out with a special medicine — I just had to use slightly different doses — I mean, herbs because different species tolerate different herbs and I thought that maybe with a human I could — ”

You heard a deep chuckle and looked back up at his face.

He was smiling at you.

That grin had you stop in your tracks and lose all your train of thought right then and there. It was like nothing you’d ever seen on any man, causing a shiver to go through your body.

Arthur took another deep breath, and spoke his next words softly, “So you been treatin’ my TB, huh?”

After a few heartbeats passed, you nodded.

Arthur’s grin widened, but then quickly faded as a thought seemed to occur to him. “How the hell — ” his chest rose and fell, “ — d’you know all this?”

You lifted a brow at his question, “What do you mean?”

“The herbs … natural remedies, as you put them — ” His body convulsed as another coughing fit took over, and he turned his head away until it passed. He didn’t need to since you took some medicine yourself to fight off any possible bacteria, but you appreciated his kind thought. He turned to face you again, “How d’you know … how to treat somethin’ like this?”

You grabbed the hem of the wool blanket and pulled it over his body, tucking it just over his shoulders. “My father, well he was a busy man, but he had a lot of love for animals. My mother was a doctor like me, though I swear to you you’d think she was an herbalist around the clock. Her passion in life had always been about plants and researching their different properties. What they could do, what benefits they gave … ” You laughed then, thinking back, “She would always come to me excited whenever she found something new that a plant or flower could do.”

You thought back to your childhood, unable to hold back a smile as you recalled the memories.

Having grown up on a plantation with a large farm that your grandmother had owned, you knew a lot about all kinds of animals thanks to your parents. Your father had taught you all about the animals and how to take care of them, while your mother would always teach you about all the plants she’d found and what she’d discovered about them.

Your parents had taken in so many sick animals, both wild and owned, caring for and nursing them all back to health. They’d found great joy in aiding the creatures, and you enjoyed learning what you could from them.

Life had been so simple back then.

But … all of that had come to a crashing end when a gang of outlaws had raided your home in the dark of night.

You instantly lost your smile then, the terrible memory flooding your mind against your will.

Both you and your mother had been in the kitchen discussing chores. Your father had been out of town on business with a client, and your brother had been riding out in the country with his horse.

Several of the plantation’s guards had been killed before anyone was able to send out a warning, and the outlaws had managed to break into the house, tying up you and your mother as others ransacked every room as if they’d been searching for something. They’d interrogated and beaten her, only to kill her with a shotgun right in front of you.

If it hadn’t been for the lawmen charging in when they had, you had no doubt the outlaws would’ve done away with you as well. They’d gotten away, though, riding away on their horses and disappearing into the thick forest across the fields.

You felt a tear roll down your cheek. Your brother and father had been absolutely broken at the news when they’d come back. To hear that the woman you all loved more than anything in the world was now gone, and the outlaws responsible for her death had never been found.

No one had ever found out what they’d been after, and since that night, you and your family had never been the same.

And of course, having lost your mother due to a gang, you’d grown up despising outlaws with every ounce of your being to this day. They were monsters. Killers. Thieves. All they ever did was hurt and destroy innocent people and their families.

Your mother had found a passion in saving lives.

You wanted to do the same, and so you’d dedicated your life into carrying on her work.

Gathering yourself so as not to get carried away with your emotions, you took a deep breath and forced a smile, looking back down at the man lying on your couch. “They taught me everything I know, but my mother was the one who encouraged me the most.”

Arthur looked at you for what felt like ages, the silence stretching between the two of you as those blue eyes of his seemed to study you for the longest time. Finally, he took a deep breath, “Your mother sounds … like she were an amazin’ woman,” he said softly.

You didn’t know why, but this man’s deep western drawl and what he said comforted you somewhat.

Nodding, you replied softly. “She was.”

He gave you a gentle smile as if to try and comfort you, “I’m real sorry, Y/N.” His soft tone seemed to melt your nerves, helping you to relax a small bit.

You returned his smile with another one of your own. “Well, she’s in a much better place now.”

“I’ve no doubt,” Arthur replied.

There was another long moment of silence, and it seemed to go on forever, the clock on the wall making the only sound in the quiet room.

Shaking yourself mentally, you stood up quickly and cleared your throat, quickly changing the subject to switch up the mood, “It’s time for another dose.”

Arthur raised those dark brows of his, “What’re you talkin’ ’about?” He asked, your sudden change seeming to have surprised him.

Walking over to your desk again, you grabbed the same vial and an empty syringe, a bottle of alcohol along with cotton and gauze, and finally a spoon and a pot of honey. While you gathered everything you explained it all to him. “You need another shot to help treat your Tuberculosis, Arthur. All of this is supposed to help kill off the bacteria that’s still left in your body. Once that’s done, your lungs and any other effected areas you have can finally start healing.”

“How d’you know all these things?” He asked.

“I had a few farm animals and a couple horses while I was growing up that were struck with the disease,” you answered, “both my mother and father showed me how to do the treatments on some of them.” You came back over with everything, kneeling back down by his side.

“Of course, horse lungs are much bigger and more resistant to Tuberculosis, but that made it easier for us to examine them so we could treat it. Unlike the smaller animals. They were a bit more difficult,” you stated. “My mother made a journal at that time to take notes whenever she would perform these treatments. All the research that she and Pa ever did she wrote down in that journal. It’s now in my desk, and over the last few years I’ve come across other animals struck with all kinds of diseases, including Tuberculosis. Her journal has guided me through all of my treatments.” You met his eyes then, “I haven’t failed in curing one yet.” You added lightly, trying to give off a bit of humor to lighten the mood.

But the effort was in vain, as Arthur just looked at you, almost as if he were questioning the situation. “And I’m the first … human you’ve ever treated?” He asked skeptically, almost sounding concerned.

“Well,” you said with a bit of annoyance from the doubt in his voice, “You were about to die so I guess there was no harm in me tryin’, was there?”

That succeeded in making him let out a sudden burst of laughter, which Arthur regretted instantly. You flinched in sympathy as the pain ran through his entire body. “Son of a bitch,” he swore through gritted teeth, cursing more underneath his breath.

You gave him a sympathetic smile as you prepped the syringe, drawing the liquid from the vial into the barrel.

“What the hell’s that?” He asked you as he stared at the vial of medicine as if it were alien to him.

You almost wanted to laugh at the expression he was making as he stared at the syringe with a strange look. “This is a special remedy that I made myself to treat TB. I need to insert it into you arm now, if that’s alright with you?”

Arthur didn’t answer as he just stared at the needle for the longest time.

“Arthur?”

He seemed to be thinking about whether or not he should trust you.

After several more seconds passed, he finally gave you a small nod, “Sure.”

The way he said that single word sent a shiver down your spine.

Letting out a small sigh, you smiled at him. The fact that he was trusting you like this, especially with putting something he didn’t know of in his own body, it meant a lot more to you than you thought it would.

You gripped his wrist gently and turned his arm until it was facing palm-up. “Alright, Arthur, this is going to sting a bit,” you said as you began prepping his inner arm, rubbing the alcohol into his skin to disinfect the area.

Arthur didn’t say a word, only giving you a small nod.

Once you found the large vein, you brought the point of the sharp needle to his skin and pushed it in. His whole body jerked, and he let out a deep grunt of pain, his eyes squeezing shut as his lips pulled back over his teeth in a hiss.

“Almost done,” you said as you pushed down slowly on the plunger, letting the medicine make its way into his body. After it was empty, you took the needle out and patched him up immediately. “Now don’t go messin’ with that, Arthur,” you said in a firm voice, gesturing at the bandage, “It needs to sit there for a few hours so don’t you go makin’ a mess.”

Arthur chuckled at your authoritative voice. “Yes, ma’am,” he replied teasingly, making you blush.

You couldn’t help but let out a small giggle from his playfulness as you put the syringe away. “Alright, now for the fun part,” you teased back as you picked up the honey pot. Lifting the lid and dipping the spoon in, you scooped out a heaping dose of honey and held it out to him, close to his lips.

“And what’s this for?” He asked, not opening his mouth to take the honey even though he knew you expected him to.

You nearly wanted to roll your eyes as you smiled again. “It’s honey.”

Arthur shot you an annoyed look, “I know it’s honey, dammit.” He snapped, “But why ... are you givin’ it to me?”

“It’s a natural remedy to help kill off Tuberculosis bacteria,” you replied impatiently, pressing the spoon to his lips in an effort to get him to open them. “Now open up, here comes the choo-choo train — choo-chooooo!” You made train noises as you moved the spoon around in the air like a train coming down the tracks. Destination: Arthur’s mouth.

At that very moment the look in those blue-green eyes of his would’ve set a forest on fire. “I ain’t a little kid, missy,” he growled at you, that deep western drawl of his sounding dark and threatening.

“Oh, I know,” you replied, completely unphased by the threat, “But where’s the fun in treatin’ you like an adult if you’re not gonna act like one?”

He growled at that, and with great reluctance parted his lips and accepted the honey as you placed it in his mouth. You waited for him to swallow. Once he did, you took out another spoonful and held it out to him. He took five more more after that, each bite either more or less stubborn than the last. When he was done, you placed the lid back on the honey pot and placed it on the side table.

“All finished!” You said to him cheerfully.

Arthur just snorted at you and looked up at the ceiling. “And how long you been ... torturin’ me like this, Y/N?” He asked in an accusing but playful tone.

“A few days now, though it hasn’t been easy. Had to feed that honey to you through a tube to make sure it made its way to your stomach.”

He grimaced at that, looking disgusted. “Really wish you hadn’t ... told me that part, ma’am.”

You gave him another sympathetic smile, “Well, Arthur, I don’t think we need to do that anymore now that you’re back with us again.”

He chuckled softly at that, the low laughter rumbling deep in his chest, “Let’s hope not, … honey.”

— To Be Continued

[the-mill-kat]

This is my spot in RDR2 whenever I work on Unshaken. For some reason it really helps. Ambience ... 🦌❤️🐺