#arthur morgan please give me one night i swear i can fix you.

[moeitsu]

I have some things to say…

I’m biting his shoulders, kissing on his neck, dragging my fingers down the muscle of his back, I’m squeezing his ass and trapping him in my legs—I’m moaning in his ear, panting against his mouth, drooling over his lips….

[porkchop-ao3]

A Thrill I’ve Never Known (Chapter 1)

Bait

I have been working on this for a little while now and I’m a few chapters in, I’ve finally plucked up the courage to start posting it. This is an Arthur Morgan x female reader (first person POV) fic that’s going to be pretty long! Its very slow burn, too, so keep that in mind. 

Reader has been a lone wolf for a long time, and intends for it to stay that way. However, she soon realises that having a little company and help from others isn’t so bad. This fic is going to include; violence, swearing, adult themes and no doubt some explicit sexual content down the line. I’m pretty sure there’s going to be some character death at some point too, but don’t worry! Our main boah lives. It’ll have a happy ending :P (This is kind of my own personal fix it fic muddled in with a romance, so yeah). It’s also chock full of spoilers!

I hope you give this a chance and enjoy! I’m going to be tagging every chapter with #ATINK for easy access (hopefully easy, but you know how tumblr is) but I will also be posting this on Ao3 where my username is PorkChop :)

-

There'd been a few times in my life that I thought I might die. That time I'd been real sick, when my whole family had been, I was surprised at my luck when I pulled through. That time Henry got more violent than he usually did and had to be dragged off of me by pa. That time I was chased by that buck, very nearly speared on his antlers before I got a clean shot at his head. I guess all those times though, I'd had a seed of hope in me. Somewhere inside I knew I'd get out of it, and that allowed me to keep my head on straight instead of falling into despair.

This time – feeling dizzy and disoriented, rope burn on my arms and legs from struggling, one pounder of a headache and the taste of blood soaked into the rag wedged in my mouth – I failed to find that hope.

I had no idea where I was, all I could do was scream behind the rag, as muffled as the sound was, it was my only hope. I screamed as loud as I could for as long as I could, pushing through the scratchy pain in my throat. It was night time and I was laying in the middle of a road, that's about all I could tell. I'd been rolling in and out of consciousness for who knows how long, strapped onto the back of a horse and getting hit any time I started hollering. I'd heard snippets of conversations, men talking, and one woman. Something about using me as bait.

I wasn't much of a fisherman but I couldn't see what use I'd be, of course if I hadn't been punched in the head repeatedly I might've understood that it had nothing to do with fishing at all.

It came as a nice surprise when finally my screams didn't get another punch to the face and I seemed to be alone. Who knows what they'd done to me, why they'd taken me from my camp. I was hardly worth robbing, but I guessed it was my weapons they were after. That and perhaps all my food.

I lost track of time with all my yelling and sobbing, I felt on the verge of throwing up with that wet, nasty rag in my mouth pushed so deep it nearly triggered my gag reflex. It felt like I was there for hours when I finally heard hoofs hitting the ground, slowing up before I had time to worry about being trampled. The rider dismounted, running over to me.

“Holy shit!” the person was male and had a raspy voice, I saw his boots but before he reached me I heard a gun being cocked behind me.

In a moment of clarity, I understood what was happening. The people who'd captured me were still around, hiding in the tall grass by the road, and they hadn't hit me when I screamed because that's exactly what they wanted me to do. Bait.

“If you've got any brains you'll give us everything you've got in that satchel. And on your horse,” the female of the group said. I heard the rider sigh.

“You've gotta be kidding me,” he groused. I heard the crunch of his boot on the ground as he started to back away. “I ain't doing this, if you've got any brains you let me walk away from this.”

“I ain't telling you twice,” the woman raised her voice and stepped forwards, she was standing right beside me. I had a terrible feeling that – even though I couldn't see her – she was pointing her gun at the back of my head. I whimpered and sobbed, squirming, ropes cutting into my arms.

“You heard the lady!” One of the other guys yelled, then there was an almighty bang… followed by many more.

I tensed up, burying my face in the dirt in some vain attempt at protecting my head from the roar of gunfire going on above me. It didn't last long, and I waited for the outlaws to loot the poor guy I'd played a part in attracting. Imagine my shock when it was him who stepped over me to loot their bodies instead. I lifted my head, finally managing to look at the guy; tall and lean, long dark hair below his hat, a duster coat that dragged on the floor when he crouched down to the corpses surrounding us.

I cried out to him to get his attention, being largely ignored until he was finished with the bodies. He finally turned to look at me and addressed me with a poisonous look in his dark eyes. It dawned on me that he thought I was one of them. My cries became desperate, I tried to enunciate the words help me with little luck. With a heavy sigh he approached me, rolled me onto my back and pulled the wad of material out of my mouth. Up close, when he saw the blood and the state of my face, his expression softened.

“Please! Please, untie me! Those fuckers, they- they- they-” my mouth was dry and my words came out worse than the town drunk's. My throat was in agony.

“Hey, shh, shut up, calm down,” he hissed, studying me closely. He ran his hands up and down the sides of my body and I flinched and struggled under his touch.

Shit. This guy has just annihilated a whole group of gunslingers. What if he's much, much worse than them?

“For the love of God don't hurt me, I'm not one of them, I didn't mean to bring you in on-”

“Shut up! I'm just checking you ain't armed.”

I held my tongue and stayed still, and breathed a sigh of relief when he seemed satisfied that I wasn't a threat. Though, that did mean that those fuckers had stolen all of my weapons. At least I still had my life…

“I'm gonna untie you, but first, tell me what the hell all that was about.”

“I don't know! I was just out in the woods and they grabbed me. Beat the crap out of me. Next thing I know I'm here. I didn't realise they wanted to use me to lure someone in to rob. I promise I ain't one of them, I don't even know who they are. I just wanna get out of here!”

“What's your name?” he questioned. I told him and he continued to stare at me for a few moments, eyes narrowed. “Alright,” he muttered, then rolled me back onto my stomach. He took a knife to the ropes and freed me.

“Oh, thank you!” I breathed, sitting up and rolling my shoulders, taking a moment to sit and gather myself. I felt dizzy.

A glance around me showed corpses everywhere; I noticed the woman of the group was wearing my clothes. That's when I realised the state of undress I was in – just my underthings – and huddled in on myself.

“You need water?”

“No, I couldn't-” he shoved a canteen at me regardless. I didn't protest and drank, only realising then how much I needed it. I could've kept going when I handed it back to him, but I didn't want to drink all of it.

“You need a ride somewhere?”

His question struck me with an unpleasant, sickly feeling. Where on earth would I go? All of my stuff had been taken by my captors, I had no idea what they'd done with it while I had been out cold. My guns were gone. All of the food I had. My tent, my blankets, my clothes. All of it.

“You got a house? A family?”

“Maybe it would've been better if you just shot me like the rest of them,” I muttered, burying my head in my hands. “I've got nothing. Been living out of a tent for the past year, that was my home and it's gone.”

There was an awkward pause as he just stood there looking at me, he obviously didn't know what to do and I couldn't blame him. Part of me wanted to tell him to go away, leave me alone so I could just sit and cry until I figured out what I was going to do.

“Listen… I'm staying pretty close to here. How 'bout I take you there and you can rest up, lick those wounds for a while.”

“You don't even know me.”

“No, but what kind of man would I be to leave a woman out here stranded, hurt, with no place to go?” he questioned, grabbing my upper arms and helping me up to my feet. My head pain flared with the movement and I groaned, screwing my face up. “Come on. I ain't taking no for an answer.”

“Thank you,” I sighed, letting him guide me over to his horse and lift me onto it.

“Name's John, by the way. John Marston.”

-

John rode me to where he was staying, I was surprised to see that it wasn't a house; it was a campsite of sorts with lots of other people there. As soon as I saw it I began to feel anxious. I wasn't sure if I wanted to be surrounded by a bunch of strangers, one was enough. We were greeted by a lady, stern looking with her hair fashioned into a bun atop her head. She watched me carefully as John helped me down from his horse.

“Miss Grimshaw,” he nodded to her in greeting. “Just had an eventful ride. Found this one not too far away, I think she's in need of a little help. Got herself caught by a bunch of idiots who tried to rob me. I took care of 'em, but she don't have anywhere to go.”

“Well we'd better have her then, come on. Look at you, you're in quite a state,” she seemed a little perturbed by the sight of me. I had no idea what my face looked like but I doubted it was pretty. “I'm Susan. Why don't you come with me and we'll wash you up, get that blood off'a you.”

“John?” I mewled like a little child, asking after its mother. He was a familiar face I wasn't quite ready to be left without.

“You'd better come too, you can tell us more about what happened,” Susan seemed to understand my worries.

“I don't know all that much myself, but sure,” John shrugged, coming along with us as she walked me over to a nearby wagon. As we walked a few people stared, I kept my head down, not enjoying being on display when I was in such a mess.

Susan sat me down on a blanket underneath an awning and wrapped another blanket around my shoulders to cover me. She sent a girl off to fetch a bucket of water, Mary-Beth her name was. While she was away I learned the names of two others, Karen and Tilly, when Susan scolded them for staring. I imagined they weren't particularly happy with me, it was late and they likely wanted to sleep.

Though perhaps not, the sound of a guitar could be heard somewhere else in the camp. Maybe I was just interrupting a pleasant evening. I felt guilty, wrapped up in my head as John relayed what he'd experienced. Mary-Beth came back with the bucket of water, and Susan kneeled down in front of me.

“Hold still,” she said, holding my chin gently with one hand as she carefully cleaned my face with a wet washcloth.

She wiped blood from around my nose, the corners of my mouth, my forehead, my hairline. It was dark but I imagined the water turning a rusty orange as she rinsed the cloth. She cleaned a few scratches on my arms; though I knew they weren't from my ordeal. They were merely hunting wounds, marred by tree branches.

“Not as bad as I feared. You looked much worse with all that blood; you got a couple of black eyes but your nose ain't crooked, your teeth are all there. I think you'll be fine.”

“Thank you.”

“I'll go and explain to Dutch,” John said, getting up from his spot on a wooden box next to me. I watched as he left, then dropped my eyes to the ground. I didn't know John much better than anyone else, but I still felt nervous without his presence. It'd been a long time since I'd had any company whatsoever. It was daunting.

“How you doing, uhh, what was your name again?” Mary-Beth took John's seat. I told her my name without looking up. “I heard John say you got kidnapped, or something?”

“I did. I'm honestly not sure what happened, my mind's still all foggy. I hope they didn't knock all the sense out of me,” I mumbled, and the girl laughed a little, then apologised. “They got me this morning… I think. I've been knocked out for most of it. I was out pulling down my camp in the woods and they came out of nowhere, just bashed me on the head, grabbed all my stuff and took me away. I don't remember all that much, like I said, I've been out.”

Mary-Beth, Susan, Karen and Tilly all stayed near me, listening. I figured I owed them an explanation since they'd been so kind to me.

“I ended up out layin’ on the road. I thought they'd left me for dead so I hollered as much as I could. John turned up and, well, you heard him. I don't intend on intruding for long, I just needed somewhere to stay and figure things out.”

“What about your family?” Tilly questioned.

“I don't have one. Ma and pa are long gone. My brother got himself killed last year. Since then I've been on my own, living off the land, sleeping in a tent.”

“You’re homeless?” Karen asked. I felt a little on the spot so I looked up at her, meeting her gaze.

“Ain't you? Only difference is you've got more wagons and friends here.”

“Can't argue with that,” she shrugged.

“I couldn't afford to keep up with the loan repayments once my brother Henry was gone. The bank took the house and that was that.”

“I'm sorry about your brother,” Mary-Beth said, putting a hand on my shoulder.

“Don't be. That guy put me in worse states than this on more than one occasion. He was violent. That's what got him killed in the end; started a bar brawl down in Blackwater with a bunch of fellers he couldn't handle. Whole place broke out, I damn near got swept up in it. I probably would've died with him if it weren't for a gentlemen who helped me out of there; I was three sheets to the wind, could barely stand,” I explained with a dry laugh.

“You got a habit of needing to be saved by men?” Karen snorted.

“Karen,” Susan warned.

I sighed and rubbed at my temples then looked up at Susan. “You mind if I sleep here?”

“Of course not. There's some more blankets up on that wagon if you need them.”

“Thank you for your kindness. I hope to be out of your hair shortly.”

“Nonsense. Us folk are no strangers to helping those who need it. Rest up now.”

[peculiar-monstar]

Not your last sunrise. Arthur Morgan x witch! reader

*SPOILERS***

So I’m into chapter 5 and i know how this story ends, but i can’t imagine my poor man like that, so here is my attempt to fix it. 

this is a long one, SORRY-- I based his looks off the pic above (found on google i think) and on the Easter egg in the game where there is a shack with a crow and cauldron you can drink form that makes you pass out.**

SUMMARY: (fluffy happy ending) Reader finds Arthur passed out in her shack, she has a feeling something bad may happen to him and keeps an eye on him. Arthur starts having dreams of reader, and eventually they meet and she helps him and they sorta fall for each other. This starts at the end where he is on the mountain and has a flash back to how they met and how he got to that point. i tried to remember as much as i could from the game but it is not exact and there will be some grammar errors. hope ya’ll enjoy. (i had to give this precious man a happy ending)

He was exhausted, all his adventures and fights had finally caught up to him he realized as he laid there on that cold mountain top drawing in one ragged breath at a time. Slowly pulling his aching body over to a curve in the rock, he managed to prop himself against it enough to face towards the East. The tiny first morning rays were just starting to break the horizon, he could feel the chilled air all around him as he coughed and fought to keep his eyes open to see the sun rise one last time. Just as his eyes began closing, a rustling to his right made him shift. Expecting some animal to be there to collect its next meal, he instead took comfort in the large black crow he'd become accustom to seeing nearly on a daily basis in the last couple months or so. “ I'm afraid this is goodbye friend.” he whispered to the bird. Arthur then closed his eyes, giving into the darkness he felt, but as he started to slip he heard that voice, the one that filled his dreams and his thoughts, followed by a bitter taste on his tongue. “Hold on just a little longer Arthur, please.” Those words echoed in his mind with an angelic tone as he took in a long deep breath.

__________________two months prior_________________________

Arthur had been making his way around either collecting debts, hunting, or helping the occasional person. Today he found himself in the Grizzlies, where he stumbled on the sight in front of him. Dismounting from his horse he made his way to the run down looking shack, stopping to make a quick sketch in his journal. Entering the small area he first noticed the large crow calmly perched watching his every move. His attention turned to the large black steaming cauldron, he shrugged before taking a cup full of the black contents and tilted his head back consuming the liquid. He dropped the cup as he started feeling dizzy and stumbled to the door before he passed out in the doorway.

You had just taken a quick ride to gather a few more herbs needed for the recipe you'd been preparing all morning. When you had returned, a chestnut horse was standing where you normally tied your horse Harvey. Jumping down from the large Clydesdale you grabbed the herbs and cautiously made your way to the door where you saw a man face down on the ground. “Sir?” you called out but got no response. Dropping next to him you saw the cup laying on the ground by his hand. Turning the man over to get a better look at who had decided to drink a cup of some odd liquid, you took in his features. His dirty blonde hair, the slight stubble on his face forming a beard that was a little darker shade of brown, and the scar on his chin. Based on his attire that consisted of a light blue shirt, black and white suspenders, warn jeans, black boots and obviously his favorite hat or the only hat he wore that was on the ground, you knew he was a man who meant business. The guns stored on his horse told you too, and that he had  been living a certain way for a while. “Well time to pack it up before he wakes up, would ya keep an eye on him Valor while I get some of this bottled to finish at home?” you asked the ebony bird still perched by the small table.

With in a few minutes you had Harvey packed and ready to leave, but the man still hadn't woke up. Walking back over to him you took his hands and pulled him a few feet away from the shack against a large tree stump, then reaching into your pocket you placed an apple next to him and set his hat back on his head before heading to his horse and offering the curious animal a peppermint. Jumping on Harvey, you looked at the man on last time as he started to stir, he looked up, and blinked a few times attempting to focus his vision on you before you nudged your horse on and galloped down the trail and disappearing into the trees. Valor watched as the man began to stir. “What the hell happened?” Arthur groan rubbing his face while looking in the direction you had vanished in. He made it to his horse, apple in hand mumbling something before looking back at the crow just as it took flight in the same direction you had left in. “Damn bird, I must be crazy, well lets go boy.” he said while mounting his horse and shaking his head.

_____________________4 days later________________________________

Arthur awoke with a jump, he wasn't sure if it was from the loud crash of thunder with the storm that was going on or his dream. Lighting the small lantern in his he'd set up, he reached for his journal and flipped through to an empty page. He quietly sketched in the dim light the same features he had seen the previous nights and the day he passed out at the shack. Finishing the final details he looked at the woman, her features he drew soft and her lips were in a slight smile. He flipped through his drawing passing the shack and other things he'd come across, but lately it seems this woman was in his dreams every night. Sounds from the storm had stopped and the sun would be making its way through the clouds so he decided to get up and make some coffee before being on his way. As the fire heated the water he broke down the camp and had almost finished when a loud caw made him whip around. Sure enough sitting on the ground was the large black crow. “Go on now, ain't got nothin' for ya.” Arthur waved his hands at the animal, who in return just hopped a few feet over, seeming unfazed by his attempts to scare him. “fine, ya pesky thing, still following me? Waiting on me to pass out again or somethin'?” He said as he took the coffee to his lips sipping it between eating some meat he had stored in his bag.

You had found yourself thinking about the man from the second you left and saw his eyes, something about them told you there was something about him, you felt worry and dread like something was going to happen but you couldn't place what, just that gut feeling. Once you had arrived back at your home, Valor made himself known as he landed on the porch. “Would ya mind keeping an eye on him for a bit? I have a feeling we'll be crossing paths again and it might not be on such nice circumstances.” The large bird tilted its head at you then took off fluttering through the trees and out of sight. “I'll pack up a few things and what we'll need for a camp just in case, hope you're feeling up to a few days travel Harv.” you tell the dapple gray horse as you started gathering supplies.

It had now been a full week since Arthur had seen the woman at the shack, he'd had dreams of her every night and multiple sketches of her in his journal. He swears he saw her in town, but by the time he made it across the saloon she was gone, and he'd blame it on the drink. “Arthur you ready?” Dutch called back to him from the road they'd been ridding on to meet with Colm o'Driscoll. “Sure.” He replied nudging his horse past them and up the hill to have the better view while Dutch and Hosea headed down to meet up. He stayed watching with his gun ready, but as he turned he saw the other men approaching and before he could move he took a hard hit to the head from a rifle.

He woke up with a groan, he had pains but managed to slip away from the camp, until he heard the men yelling then he felt the searing pain as a shot hit him in the left shoulder sending him to the ground. “Did I kill ya yet?” one of the men asked as they retied his arms and  started dragging him back. He saw the dark shape of the familiar bird fly off silently in the darkness before he passed out. “Oh I missed you Arthur, and now I'll have an angry Dutch coming to get you with the rest and i will turn you all in at once.” He heard Colm speaking as he tried to move but found it impossible as he hung upside down. “So it was all a set up?” Arthur growled out and tried to take a swing at Colm. “Ah you're not doing so good, that wounds septic.” Colm snickered out before landing a few blows to Arthur's ribs then leaving. Arthur woke up again and managed to free himself and break his restraints, taking out one of the o'Driscolls before he tended to his wound as best he could, then slipped out of their camp unseen.  

He was in bad shape and he knew it, he hurt all over, his shoulder was the worse of all. He knew if he passed out anywhere close they'd find him, he had to find a horse and make it back to the others. He stumbled a few more feet before he fell completely to the ground. Something soft and warm nibbled at his hand and he opened his eyes to see his horse standing in front of him. Another pair of hands wrapped themselves around him and helped him stand. His first response was to fight them off thinking it was another one of the captors, but as they helped him get on his horse he heard a voice that was from a woman. “Come on cowboy, you gotta help me a little, just get on the horse and we'll get you safe.” He strained in the darkness to see you and with even the minimal moon light he knew it was her. “I-- Yyou?” he grunted out as he fully settled on his horse as you climbed up behind him taking the reins. “Shh, just hold on, we have to get you outta here.” You whispered to him as you kicked his horse into a full speed gallop with Harvey running after. “Horseshoe Overlook” was all he managed to huff out as you continued pushing his horse on.

You had made it just outside of his camp, he had passed out again along the way. Jumping from his horse you grabbed a tiny bottle from Harvey's saddle bag and went back to Arthur. “Hey, I just need you to wake up for a second please.” you said while shaking his leg. He opened his eyes just enough to see you standing holding a bottle up to him. “Just drink it, your camp is right there.” you say and point to the clearing. He takes the bottle and downs it instantly then lets the bottle hit the ground as he slumps over his horse and you watch as the animal takes him into the camp, and you hear the many voices calling to get him help, and that's when you learn what his name is, Arthur. “Keep an eye on Arthur please, get me if he gets worse.” you say in a quiet whisper as Valor lands on your arm then takes off over the camp.

Nearly a week and a half it has taken Arthur to get better, the pain is still in his arm and even more he's still confused who and why this woman helped him and fills his dreams. The damn bird was back and everyone at camp still seems confused why it wouldn't stray far from his tent while he recovered and joked about it being his friend. “Seein' as you're not gonna leave me anytime soon, guess I'll add ya to this book too.” He commented as he sketched the crow before him. “Hey Arthur, mind going hunting for something for this stew?” Pearson called from the other side of camp. “Sure.” he replied as he made his way to his horse and rode out with the crow taking off ahead of him. “Damn bird.”

Arthur had made a pretty good kill with a large buck and two turkeys stowed away on his horse as he took his time making it back to camp. His eyes caught on the sight next the the river that ran down the fields. It was the large horse that he saw first then he saw you. Spurring his horse he headed straight for you. “Hey! Ma'am!” he called out as he stopped his horse just a few feet away. “Oh, I see you're doing better, it is Arthur isn't it?” you asked shyly as the man looked you over. “Yes ma'am, Arthur Morgan, but I didn't get your name miss.” he gave you a little smile. “It's (y/n) (y/l/n).” you say and flash a smile. “Well nice to finally meet ya miss (y/n), and thanks for savin' my life.” he told you as he watched you putting away a few bottles in your horses bag. “This is Harvey, and you've already met Valor.” you tell him while motioning to your horse then the crow sat atop a rock. “That birds with you? And here I thought he just liked me.” Arthur chucked. “We'll I'm sure I'll be seeing you around Mr. Morgan.” you add with another smile as you mount up and turn to leave. “Just Arthur miss, and I sure hope so.” he smiles and watches you leave before getting on his way back to camp.

The next few of weeks are like a blur to him, from all the jobs gone wrong, and so many of his close friends killed or injured, that damn island he was on, the pinkertons finding them and all this time when he did get sleep he'd see (y/n). Since they had made it back from Guarma he hadn't seen even so much as a feather from that bird. He had enough to worry about on his own but he couldn't help but wonder about her. He noticed he'd been coughing a lot more and finding it hard to catch his breath as well, but he put it as just not getting enough sleep after all that has happened. He sat staring at the water as he waited for a bite on his fishing pole, mind wondering back to his dreams.

He must have dozed off for a bit, because he found himself looking at a familiar pair of beady eyes watching him. Jumping up he spun around “Y/n?” he spotted you instantly. “Hey cowboy, good to see you're alive after all” you half joke. He goes to speak but gets cut off with a coughing fit followed by him trying to catch his breath. “God I missed ya, these last few weeks have been hell, then I ain't seen ya bird in a while didn't know if ya up and left or somethin' happened.” he noticed your frown. “Arthur are you okay? You don't look so good, and you sound worse.” the concern etched in your face and in every word. “Darlin' I never been nothin' to look at but, sure I'm okay, just a bit under the weather.” he offered a small smile, but something in his eyes said other wise. “Mind if I stayed here with ya? It's getting dark and you don't seem to have had much luck fishing.” you say already unpacking your camp from Harvey. “Well I've always been a poor fisherman, and sure darlin' if ya don't mind listening to me snore.” he told you as he started a fire.

You had both eaten your fill and gone to bed in your tents, but you couldn't sleep, something wasn't sitting well with you. He was coughing off and on and you could tell it was hard for him to breathe. Quietly you made your way to his tent and slipped inside. Arthur was asleep and you knelt beside him and placed a hand to his head feeling the heat. He moved and opened his eyes when you withdrew your hand, coughing a little before he spoke. “Everythin' okay?” his voice gruff from sleep. “Just checking on you, I heard you coughing a lot.” you said looking at him with worry. “'s Nothin' to worry 'bout, just a cough.” he said with a sleepy yawn. “If it'll make ya feel better you can stay in here and if I get too bad just wake me up.” You nodded and laid down next to him, with in a few minutes his breathing had fallen into a slow rhythm and you found yourself being lulled to sleep.

The weight across your side was the first thing you noticed when you woke up. Looking down you found it to be Arthur's arm draped over you and you felt his breath against the back of your neck. Not wanting to wake him yet you tried going back to sleep but found it impossible, luckily your eyes landed on a brown journal just in arms reach to you. Carefully you pulled it to you and opened it, making sure not to wake the now snoring man behind you. Turning each page you saw his sketches he'd done of everything he'd seen. Some words written next to the pictures, and you found one of the shack in the woods. Turning a few more pages you saw different ones of you, and you couldn't help the smile that spread on your face. He was quite talented with drawing, and the last page you saw a sketch of you siting at a fire, no doubt the one from last night. Feeling him move and take his arm off you, you closed the book and slid it away, turning over to face him. “Morning cowboy.” you smile at him. “See ya found my sketches.” he answers sleepily. “They're really good, I can tell I'm clearly a favorite.” you smirk. He couldn't hide the smile that he had as he gets up.

The two of you spend a little more time at the camp, he tells you about Dutch and the gang and everything that's happened to him the last few weeks. He doesn't want sympathy saying he did this and all this bad stuff that he's not a good man, and though you disagree he refuses to believe it. He sounds like he's tired and done with all the robbing and running and everything but says he's got people in the camp he cares about and wants to make sure they are okay. His coughing comes and goes and it pains you, this man thinks he's so terrible and he's already suffered so much and lost so much that it hurts you. You don't want to tell him what you assume he may have, but that gut feeling has a hold of you and you've seen the symptoms before. “Arthur, when you've done what you need to, what would you say to coming and finding me? I have a nice home far away from this bullshit, it would help with your coughing and there's no one there who'd know or bother you. The closest town is full of nice welcoming people, and I wouldn't mind having some company, since its just me, Harvey, and Valor there.”

He stayed silent while still looking at you, taking in what you had said. “Darlin' are you sayin' you want me to come stay with you?” he seemed confused by your offer. “I'm not quite sure what a woman like you sees in me, I ain't nothin' but some outlaw, and yet you've saved my life, worried over me, and offered for me to stay with you, I ain't a good man.” he rubbed the back of his neck as he kept his serious expression. “Well Arthur, I worry about you, and say it all you want, but I see a good man. What kinda man goes through all you have for people he cares about? Certainly not a bad man..” you comment returning his expression with one of equal seriousness. “And here I thought ya were offerin' cause ya liked me.” he chuckled. “There's that too... I mean I couldn't hate you and still want to keep an eye on you. Clearly you've taking a liking to me too, or do you always just draw women and let them in your tent at night?” you ask raising a brow. “Maybe..” he smirked. “Tell ya what y/n, let me take care of some things at camp and whats left of me will take you up on that offer, I just can't risk bringing you into all this now, this needs to be done before I can move on.” he stands and finishes breaking down the camp before walking over to you. “I'll keep an eye on you cowboy, but stay safe and do what you need to.” you tell him before pulling him into a tight hug. He brings his arms around you and returning the hug. “I'll see ya soon darlin'” he says before letting you go and getting on his horse, something in the way he said it sounded like it was a last goodbye. Standing there you watch him ride off, you turn to your horse and mount up. “Valor don't lose him, Harvey we've gotta get some things and quick.”

_____________________________________present_____________________

He felt warm, relaxed, and it didn't hurt to breathe for once. He slowly opened his eyes taking in his surrounding, he was in a home, there was a fire going and various herbs hung from the ceiling, the smell of lavender and cinnamon filled the room. Sitting up he realized he was in a large bed, the blankets the softest he'd felt and the curtains were slightly open to allow enough light but not to hurt his eyes. A noise drew him to the foot of the bed, where perched on the wood post sat that bird he'd come to know. “Arthur? How do you feel?” your voice was sweet as honey to him and he looked at you like you were an angel and he was in heaven. Your (y/h/c) hair was down and had a glow to it, your face showing every beautiful feature he'd become so used to seeing in his dreams and drawing. Your shirt was loosely unbuttoned and a little wrinkled around the sleeves, and your pants had a little dirt on the knees. He saw you look at him with concern, then he remembered he hadn't spoke a word yet. “Hey darlin', I – I feel better then I have in a long time, for a second I thought I'd died and gone to heaven.” he said with is blue green eyes still on you. “If I hadn't got to you in time you would have died.” he had tried to joke about it, but he saw you were serious. “What happened, I mean after, I remember the sun rise then your bird.” he asked sitting up completely.

“Taking a seat next to him on the bed, you handed him a cup of liquid that looked similar to what he had found in the shack that day. “Gonna knock me out again?” he asked taking the cup. “No, that's why your alive now and not dead from TB.” you watched as he finished the cup in a few gulps. “I could tell ya had it that night, you knew and were gonna just accept death on that mountain.” the sadness in your eyes tore his heart. “I'm sorry, I had found out before ya ran into me and I didn't need anyone else getting hurt or what not from me and my choices, I told ya I'm not a good man.” he stayed silent as you placed a hand on his forehead again, checking for a fever. “Well Mr. Arthur Morgan guess your luck has turned around. Seems as though you've fully recovered and no longer have it.” you say getting up from the bed and walking out of the room. You heard footsteps following behind you. “What? How? Ain't no cure for that.” he said as he rounded the corner behind you. “Come on now cowboy, you can't be that thick in the head, large black pot in the woods, weird animals that follow, and a magic cure for a disease that is a death sentence. People 'round here talk so I know you know.” you comment while washing out the cup then taking a seat at the table. “They say that's witch craft, but you don't seem like what they describe a witch as.” he adds while standing across from you. “What ever they call it, I tend to keep it a secret for my safety, but is this gonna be a problem for you? ” you ask, hoping he says no but afraid he will just leave now that he knows. “darlin', I only see one problem here.” he calmly said as he walked over to where  your sitting. Kneeling down to be face level with you before bringing his hands up to cup your face. “That being why it's taken me this long to kiss ya.” and with that he brought his lips to yours in a passionate hungry kiss. You instantly threw your arms around his neck and pulled him closer kissing him back with as much love.