#hosea and dutch’s sweet boy :3

[ellamorgan333]

this is how hosea and dutch felt when they got arthur

[ellamorgan333]

i’d feel so proud if i was dutch/hosea bc i fed my boy and grew up strong!!

Do y’all ever wonder if Dutch and Hosea knew they were going to raise an absolute UNIT like Arthur? Like he was once a skinny and rambunctious 14 year old street orphan and they took a chance on him and fed him as he grew into a fucking BEAST who is arguably bulkier than the two of them combined, and has become the main brawn of the gang.

This is basically just an Arthur Physique appreciation post but GOD DAMN.

[pinescent-and-gingerbread]

Hello, can I request Arthur x fem!Reader?

I was thinking of this: reader tries to teach how to play guitar to Arthur but it'll be kinda chaotic,something sweet and fun. I had this idea while listening to Javier singing cielito lindo.

Byee <3

࣪ ˖✧ Musical Interlude

✦ Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader ✦ Warnings/tags: None/pure fluff and silliness. ✦ Words: 1,9k ✦ a/n: Alright here it is, I hope you'll like it! NB: I made Arthur right-handed in this when canonically he seems to be ambidextrous; just thought it would be more convenient this way. As a guitar player myself, I loved writing this! (Arthur's pic is from my playthrough, guitar's pic from interest.)

Lately, life had been a little bit easier at camp. People were well-fed thanks to Mr. Pearson and the boys hunting copious amounts of animals, the swamps right next to Shady Belle providing unexpected resources like shrimps, alligator's eggs, or even 'gators themselves if one was bold enough to hunt them (which was definitely the case for some of the risk-takers in the gang.).

Jack had been saved and safely returned to his mother by John, Dutch, and Arthur a few days ago, and it definitely participated in keeping the mood bright and cheerful since his return party.

You were in a particularly happy mood yourself on this sunny afternoon, sitting on one of the boxes around the main campfire, tents and the usual mess of belongings specific to every camp containing a large amount of people surrounding you, making you feel at home. You liked this heterogeneous gathering of people's stuff; Hosea's book next to Dutch's almost extinguished cigar, little rocks Jack had gathered next to Charle's arrows, a half-eaten plate of stew abandoned there by John next to a letter that was probably Lenny's.

You liked this funny combination of objects; it made the camp feel full of life, homey, and convivial. It made you feel even more joyful.

"Hey Javier, you in the mood for a duo ?" You asked your charming Hispanic companion who had just finished eating on the big log around the campfire, putting his plate away.

"Always, mi princesa." The man happily answered, grabbing his guitar and yours that was carefully tidied just behind his and Uncle's banjo. He handed it to you, a big smile on his face.

You grabbed your instrument and placed it on your lap, left hand naturally placing itself around its neck, fingers pressing on the strings to warm them up a bit. Javier and you had always loved playing together; playing an instrument was already funny in normal times, but with another musician, it was even better. You could share the music, talk with each other in a language known only by artists, respond and play with each other in notes and phrases.

The dark-haired man had started playing an upbeat strumming, a fast, gypsy-like rhythm. You liked it, he was carrying you to allow you to solo on his rhythm. You gladly obliged, little grin on your face as your fingers danced on the neck, your other hand skillfully picking the right string every time, creating a harmonious melody on top of your friend's notes.

Some of the other members had gathered around you to listen, some whistling along as you played. Uncle was having the time of his life listening to you both, clapping his hands in rhythm. In the little group watching the show you were putting on, you noticed Arthur, subtle smile on his face, sipping on a cup of coffee, arms half-crossed. God, he was so beautiful even just like this, on a simple afternoon at camp, blue eyes bright with the light of the sun, light brown hair matching a sandy color flannel he had rolled up his elbows. You almost lost your rhythm when your eyes lingered on his bare forearms, and you quickly focused back on what you were doing, a sheepish little smile on your face.

After a prolonged moment of musical interlude, Javier thanked you and went back on with his day, explaining something about going fishing, which didn't surprise you. You were strumming mindlessly now, playing a little melody that was coming to you on the spot instead of an actual song. Most of the gang members walked off, some started around the campfire with you. Of course, Uncle was the first to sit on the white chair next to Javier's green tent, the old man had almost taken up residence on it; then came Hosea, opening a book as often after lunch, and finally Arthur, who came sitting right next to you on the blue box next to the brown one you were sat on, his cup of coffee left emptied on the floor.

You smiled at him, happy he wanted to rest for a while; it was rare for him to just come and sit by the fire, in fact, you were surprised he was even in camp on an afternoon at all, considering he was almost every day on a job or out hunting, coming back only for dinners and nights.

"Mr Morgan." You welcomed him with a sweet smile. Your mood was even brighter than before with him by your side.

"Miss Y/N..." He greeted you back, shifting a bit on the box, as if he was getting nervous. "You an' Javier play really well..." He began, deep voice drawling, always like he was taking his time to talk.

"Thanks, Arthur!" You claimed, genuinely happy he had liked it. With Arthur's usual poker face, it was sometimes hard to know what he was actually enjoying or not.

"I was wonderin'... Erm... Maybe..." He muttered under his breath, his eyes usually sharp and eager to make eye contact were now running away from yours. You could tell he was embarrassed, that piqued your curiosity and even softened your heart. He looked so cute like this.

"Yes...?" You inquired with an encouraging tone, offering him a reassuring smile, wanting him to understand he had nothing to feel embarrassed for.

"Maybe, you could show me some chords? I always wanted t' learn..." He probed you with a soft and interrogative tone. In a way, you had always liked how he acted more carefully and calmly around you.

"Oh! I would love to, Arthur." Your cheerful answer along with your enthusiasm made him crack up a big smile. Your heart felt lighter at this sight.

You gently offered him your instrument, placing it on his own lap.

"Alright, so. When you're right-handed, you put your left hand on the neck, and your right one on the strings." You explained to him, Arthur placing his hands where you told him, holding your guitar as carefully as if it was a newborn.

"Perfect. Now you need to pinch the strings to make a chord. For that, your fingers need to press this way-" You showed him by gesturing your fingers, curling them in the position they were supposed to have on the guitar. "What's good with you is that you already have calloused hands, so it won't hurt too much when pressing the strings."

Arthur tried to place them as you showed, but every time he tried he kept on letting them fall flat on the other strings; which made you laugh a bit.

"You need to curl them more, Arthur, or else we won't hear all the strings." You instructed him, and he chuckled a bit himself.

"Ah, this is more difficult than I thought..." He confessed in an amused tone, making fun of his own inexperience.

"Don't worry, you'll get used to it. Just... Put them..." You bent over to him and gently used both your hands to make him properly grab the neck, and place his fingers how you wanted. "...This way."

Arthur tried to hold this position but it just felt so unnatural for his hand to be tensed like that. On top of that, your proximity and the soft touch of your fingers against his skin were definitely not helping making him more focused, not even mentioning how he could smell your delicate perfume when being close like this.

"A-Alright... Then ?" He asked you, trying to learn some more and focus back on the instrument, not his owner.

"Then, you strum the strings with your right hand, from up to down at first." You explained head tilted towards said hand, waiting for him to make a move.

Arthur did as you told, his fingers strumming way too hard, resulting in a horrible dissonant chord considering most of his fingers had moved on his left hand. You couldn't hold back a laugh at the sound he had made, and he followed you, feeling so ridiculous right now.

"Ah, damnit..."

"Arthur, you don't have to beat up the damn guitar!" You joked in between giggles, unable to contain yourself at the sight of the great Arthur Morgan struggling to play an instrument.

"This... Damned thing is sneaky; thought it was easy when lookin' at ya..." He mumbled, obviously frustrated by not succeeding, but also still a little amused at himself, the corner of his lips curling in a slight grin.

"Told you, you'll get used to it. You just have to keep playin'..."

As if to prove he could do it, Arthur tried again, but his index finger had moved again and was pinching the wrong string. When he tried strumming again, less softly, the chord began nicely, and both of you smiled triumphantly... Until the last string, when a terrible bum note ruined all his efforts.

You looked into his eyes, mouth trembling as you forced yourself not to burst out in laughter; he looked so frustrated, but the moment his eyes crossed yours, you both succumbed and exploded in a cacophony of laughing.

Hosea and Uncle had turned their head to your improbable duo, the sight of Arthur trying his best but miserably failing at hitting the good notes making them laugh too. Hosea's gaze caught yours, with this small knowing grin so typical of him, and you blushed a bit. Was it that obvious that you were spending the best afternoon trying to teach your beloved outlaw to play your favorite instrument?

"Y/N, I think it's useless, I'm way too shitty at this..." He admitted, a small but deep chuckle escaping from his chest.

"No no no, I told you before, you just need some practice. Look..."

You got up from the box and placed yourself right in front of him, grabbing each of his hands with each of yours. With your right one, you positioned his index and middle fingers properly to play the simplest chord, the E minor.

With your right hand, you gently guided his from up to down, making the tips of his fingers gently brush every string.

The chord finally ended up sounding right from start to finish, and Arthur let out a triumphant and sharp "Ah!", looking genuinely so happy it sounded good. You smiled fondly at him. How could a so violent and rough man look so adorable and goofy right now?

"See? You can do it." You asserted him, looking up at him in the eyes.

"Thank you miss, you did all the work..." He acknowledged, still smiling, the subtlest red covering his cheeks.

In the background, Hosea and Uncle were looking at each other with this specific look that was saying "There's definitely something between these two but we're not going to say anything".

You and Arthur spend another long moment trying to make him learn the simplest chords, those that require only two or three fingers. You two would crack up smile and laugh every time he would play a wrong chord, and honestly, it was the best day for you both in a long time.

As the sun was setting down, Arthur sighed deeply, realizing he hadn't done anything considered productive yet, spending his afternoon playing with you. He slowly handed you back your guitar, a gentle expression on his face.

"Thank you for your patience, darlin'. I don't know how you're dealin' with this awful skills of mine..."

"Come on, you've made some progress! Keep on training, Arthur. I'm sure you'll soon be the most famous player in the West, on top of being its fastest gunslinger. " You encouraged him, face as pleasant and lovely as a sweet peach on a hot summer day.

Your words made Arthur snort a last amused chuckle.

"You're puttin' too much hope on me, Miss." He concluded with an amused smile before leaving you, heart lighter, ideas brighter than when he had begun his day.

Arthur knew he wouldn't be very talented at guitar, but he also was certain he was going to ask you to teach him again some other day, and he would make sure to play more wrong notes, just to have the sweet opportunity to feel your tender touch on him again.

[moeitsu]

♡The Tie Which Linked My Soul To Thee♡

(Arthur Morgan x OC) Masterlist

Hey cowboys!

Below is where you'll find all the chapters to my Red Dead Redemption fanfic, I will keep it updated as I continue to post more chapters. But in the meantime, I wanted to make things a little more organized and easier for you to navigate.

Whether you just started reading, or if you've been keeping up with the story since the beginning. I want to thank you! This started as a little side project to keep me busy during my down time at work, but it's turned into something I'm really passionate and proud of! So thank you for all the support <3

!!Please be aware this fic is explicit. As it contains blood/violence, as well as other adult themes!!

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->-> Ao3 

->-> Wattpad

Summary: Kate McCanon, a young widow from the north, meets outlaw Arthur Morgan. When the two cross paths she discovers a complex man wrestling with his own sense of right and wrong. As their unlikely bond deepens, Kate becomes determined to guide Arthur towards a brighter path, even as tensions rise within his gang led by the enigmatic Dutch van der Linde. With danger lurking at every turn, Kate must navigate treacherous territory to protect those she holds dear, all while finding love in the most unexpected of places.

Story Tags: Widowed, Original Character(s), High-Honor!Arthur Morgan, Arthur Morgan Does Not Have Tuberculosis, Arthur Morgan Deserves Happiness, Chubby!Arthur Morgan, Canon Divergence, Mutual Pining, Slow Build, Eventual Smut, Eventual Sex, Eventual Romance, Emotional Sex, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Touch-Starved, Sexual Tension, Friends to Lovers, Child Loss, Infant Death, Trauma, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Torture, Blood and Violence, Survivor Guilt, Aftermath of Torture, Caretaking, Injury Recovery, Period-Typical Racism, Anxiety, Self-Hatred, Night Terrors, Emotional Constipation, Self-Doubt, Men Crying, Bathing/Washing, Sweet/Hot, Romantic Angst, Romantic Fluff

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Ch 1 - The Years Creep Slowly By Kate becomes entangled in a heist with two strangers, Hosea and Arthur, forging an unexpected bond amidst their criminal endeavor. Ch 2 - The Snow Is On The Grass Again A fisher of men and A strange encounter. Ch 3 - The Suns Low Down The Sky Welcome to Horseshoe Overlook Ch 4 - The Frost Gleams Where The Flowers Have Been It's time to collect a debt. Ch 5 - My Heart Beats On As Warmly Now A well deserved hunt with Charles, met with an unexpected surprise back at camp... Ch 6 - As When The Summer Days Were Nigh The battle begins, and the past is revealed. Ch 7 - The Sun Can Never Dip So Low Kate is not immune to the dangers of the land. No matter how much she loved it, the land will never love her back. Ch 8 - Or Down Affections Cloudless Sky A blissful sunny day after a long hard night. Ch 9 - A Hundred Months Have Passed Kate and Arthur share a tender moment in the quiet of the night. Ch 10 - Since Last I Held That Hand In Mine The Course of True Love and other Revelations Ch 11 - And Felt The Pulse Beat Fast Arthur and Hosea share meaningful conversation after a night of advertising some moonshine. Meanwhile Kate finds herself involved in a dubious mission with John and the boys. She patches up Arthur as the day ends with an air of unspoken desire. Ch 12 - Though Mine Beat Faster Far Than Thine - Part 1 Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called sons of God in a world that is ugly with violence and hate. Ch 13 - Though Mine Beat Faster Far Than Thine - Part 2 Arthur’s life is ebbing out like the tide. Kate must work quickly and diligently to reverse the cruel hands of fate. She is aided by the help of an unexpected ally. Ch 14 - A Hundred Months ‘Twas Flowery May As Kate navigates Arthur’s recovery, she discovers that true strength lies within her trusted companions, finding relief in their unwavering support during the trials of his healing journey. Ch 15 - When Up The Hilly Slope We Climbed Arthur struggles to adjust to his new disabilities. Meanwhile Kate finds a job outside of camp for them, providing a few days respite and some much needed alone time. Arthur finally reveals his feelings. Ch 16 - The Past Is The Eternal Past Kate and Arthur welcome a new life into the world. The scene brings back tender memories of Arthur's past, he finally finds the courage to open up to her about his family. Ch 17 - To Watch The Dying of The Day Say, isn't it strange? I am still me, and you are still you. In this place. Isn't it strange how people can change? From strangers to friends, friends into lovers. To strangers again. Ch 18 - To Hear the Distant Church Bells Chime The gang finds a new hideout at Shady Belle, just outside the heart of the new modern America. With Jack still missing, Kate and Arthur must work together to find him. Amidst the tension, Arthur confides in Kate about his deepest regrets. Ch 19 - We Loved Each Other Then The Gilded Cage. Kate and Arthur attend an exclusive garden party hosted by the Mayor of Saint Denis. As the night progresses, their mutual desire intensifies.

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━ If you're interested in reading about my OC, I linked the Kate McCanon Lore here :) As well as her Face and Voice Claim here <3 About me!

[5tr4wbaby]

✨ art under ramble ✨

It’s my dream that when (NOT IF, WHEN) Red Dead Redemption 3 releases it’ll be a prequel to the second game. I’d love if you’d play as a new character who is part of Dutch’s gang in the early days and you are part of the VDL gang vs O’ Driscoll feud, witnessing the death of Colm’s brother and Annabelle and all other crazy moments mentioned in passing in RDR2. But mainly what I want to see is Dutch, Hosea, Arthur and John in the early days. I want to see the curious couple and their unruly sons in their purest form! I want to see Dutch and Hosea hold hands again, sweet Bessie doing sweet things and John’s horrendous reading lessons, Miss Grimshaw whacking everyone into shape AND ARTHUR WITH COPPER AND BOADICEA!!!

ANYWAYS

I had these really stupid ideas about how camp would work with so many characters, camp interactions and chores and tents. Maybe one day you are awoken by Miss Grimshaw shoving hungover Arthur’s head in a troth of cold water after a long night out and Hosea and Bessie chuckling by the fire. And by night you'll find new recruit Bill Williamson arguing with anyone he can find and Dutch teaching John slights of hands at the poker table. And what about all the new characters!!!!!?????

I get the impression that all the camp chores and tasks were dumped on baby John. You’ll find him dragging hay bales across camp, washing shirts, chasing chickens and half-ass-ly doing whatever jobs Arthur has convinced him to do by giving him an old penny after telling him it’s an ancient Roman coin that is worth a thousand dollars (lots of stuff like this happened you cannot convince he otherwise). While John peels potatoes in camp he dreams of getting his own gun, riding into town and robbing a bank just like a real outlaw! Then everyone would finally appreciate him as the awesomest and bestest gunslinger in all of history! Everyone knows that if John got his greasy hands on a pistol all hell would break loose. So he is cursed to camp indefinitely, at the expense of everyone around him. This absolutely led to him being a crazy teenager. Dutch's parenting is shit, we all know it.

Branching off the chore idea; if you called your horse in game, a little rat boy John would lead your horse to you. Come on just IMAGINE calling for your horse in camp and hearing faint steps approach you and when you look down you see a flea infested child holding your horse by a lead and spitting bizarre threats at you in an attempt to escape camp and rob some people.

sorry for the john posting :3c

[ellamorgan333]

hosea and dutch mean so much to me😭😭😭😭😭 they love their kids

"Dutch isn't Arthur's father!!"

Also Dutch: "You are quite the gentleman mister Morgan, I raised you well."

I love a good father/son bonding moment before one leaves the other to die❤️

[allzelemonz]

His Boy, Part 3: Hosea

Dutch Van der Linde X Male Reader X Colm O’Driscoll

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9

Pronouns: None Mentioned, Reader referred to as ‘son’ Physical Sex: None Mentioned Rating: M/references to previous smut Warnings: Kidnapping, past relationship, forced cheating, Reader is an asshole O’Driscoll, mentions of past sex, mentions of prior chapter dubcon, mention of past Dutch/Hosea Summary: The only level head in a world of outlaws comes to check on you after your rough night with Dutch.

To your surprise, it’s Hosea you see the next morning. He opens the door with a bowl in hand and you’re thankful Dutch had the decency to put your pants back on. Your hands are still tied, though you’re now attached to a post to prevent your movement. Hosea closes the door behind him and looks over you with an expression you can’t quite place.

“Dutch told me what he did.” He finally says, walking towards you. “Said you wanted it.” He sets the bowl down and pulls a bottle of tonic from his pocket. “Did you?”

You watch as he opens the bottle. “Never said I did.”

Hosea’s hands falter for a moment before he holds the bottle to your lips. “It’s a painkiller. I’m betting you need it.”

With a bit of a glare, you swallow the contents. He’s right, you do need it. Your ass aches to the point of keeping you from sitting properly and your hips are bruised with finger marks.

“Did you ever ask him to stop?”

Hosea’s voice is steady but you know the man’s morals, he’s checking not because he cares about you but because he knows what Dutch did isn’t quite right. Even if you ended up enjoying yourself, even if you did want it, he didn’t know that.

“I did.” You sigh. “Didn’t mean it.”

“But he didn’t know that, did he?”

You sigh, a mocking tone overtaking you. “You’re too good for this world, Mister Matthews.”

“I’ll have a word with him.”

“Throw one of those Miller books at him, might make him all righteous again.”

Hosea huffs, reaching to untie your hand. “I assume you know I never liked you?”

“Very aware of that, my friend.”

You circle your wrist around to get the ache out. Hosea pushes the bowl a little closer for you to reach. It’s stew, always stew in camp.

“You’re not good for Dutch.” Hosea says with a glare.

You pick up the spoon and try to keep your hand from shaking as you bring it to your mouth. “I left, didn’t I?”

“Ta sleep with the man he hates.” Hosea coughs. “Didn’t help things, son.”

“Not why I left, just ended up that way.”

“You hurt him.”

You swallow another spoonful. “Never meant to. Not then, at least.”

He’s quiet for a moment, letting you eat a bit more. “Then why did you leave us?”

“Had my reasons.”

He sighs. “Dutch… in all his many, many faults, cared for you very much.”

You set your spoon down and fix your eyes on Hosea’s. “He always says sweet things like that, doesn’t he, Hosea?” You lean a little closer, as much as the ropes permit. “But do you ever find yourself wondering if he means it?”

For a moment you both look at each other. Both men that have shared a bed with Dutch Van der Linde, both men that have heard his sweet words and rose-colored image of the future, both men that left those feelings behind despite still feeling their remains in one form or another. You can’t hate Dutch the way Colm does, probably never will. Men like him have a way of getting to people’s hearts and minds and never quite letting go.

“Let me enlighten you, Hosea.” You sigh, leaning back to your post. “He thinks he means it, but he will always prove the pretty words wrong and pretend it’s not his fault.”

“And Colm O’Driscoll is better?”

“He’s honest. He doesn’t pretend like Dutch does. I know exactly where I stand with Colm, exactly where he stands with me.” You kick the bowl way, spilling the remaining stew. “You know all that with Dutch or are you still dancing around each other?”

Hosea doesn’t say a word as he ties your hand back and picks up the dinnerware. He stands and walks to the door, stopping with his hand on the knob.

“He said you’d changed.” He says with that annoying tone of knowing everything.

Then he leaves, locking the door behind him and leaving you with the rope and the dark.

[orphicrose]

My sweet sweet boy Sean did nothing wrong, ever, we neeeeed more of him in the fanfic world, yo could you please write Sean x reader who's rich. We know this man hates the rich, but what if the gang meets someone who's really fucking rich who also helps people. They get wind of some rich person in a town not too far away, and obviously they think it's some old mean man, who exploits other, but that's far far far from the thruth. Like people in the town are actually praising the reader for the work they have done, the way the town improved, less criminals etc. And when the gang goes to meet the reader they find out that they never wanted to have this much money and the try to get rid of it in a way that helps others because it would be a waste if some criminals just stole it, but somehow whenever they find a good cause they can spend their money on and just put out as much money as possible, it ends up making them more profit, and the reader just wants a simple live and go on some adventure etc. , yk?

I know this is a strange idea I was just thinking. And Sean kinda falling for the reader because of their kind heart, i just love loverboy Sean wo much

Kiss the girl (Sean X FemReader)

A/N : I love love love this idea so much! I did my best to give this idea justice as it gave me so much inspiration so thank you. Sorry if the ending seems rushed. I am accepting constructive crisicism <3

Summary : Y/n was lucky enough to have been born into a wealthy family, but that money was tainted by her ancestors sins. To make up for it, she tries her best to give to the community. This attracted the attention of a opportunity hungry gang, pleasantly surprised when she turns out to be a pure soul willing to help.

Words : 3.8K

Warnings : Minor gore

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Saint Denis was riddled with rich trash, and not so subtle exploitation of the working class. It was no surprise when Dutch's Posse received word of a possible job there. Many, in fact. But none caught their eyes so much as Y/n's did. Her last name was deceiving when her first name was unknown. The family name. Dutch assumes it was some rich family on the edge of the city. "Done some unholy things to achieve that amount of money, i assume" He chuckled to himself, twiddling his mustache as Hosea and Sean sit in, listening to his debriefing.

Y/n was wealthy, alright. But it was never the life she wanted. That money was tainted, blood money. Dutch was right. Her family had a red stained passed surrounding their riches, and y/n hated it. When her family were away on business trips she did her utmost best to spend it. Whether it was giving to a homeless man, a charity. Or donating to help build the new church. Anything positive to benefit the community around her just to rid herself of those coins. But to her dismay, it only grew her family name. She was respected. Loved. Y/n despised the positive charm she had given her name, given her family history. She felt trapped.

John had gotten the tip from a homeless man in Saint Denis, in return for a few pennies. He had drunkenly babbled to him about a higher power perched on the coast of the city. She had a beautiful aura surrounding her, helping those who needed it. "You're makin no sense old man" Johns patience was running thin, arms crossed as he looked at the helplessness sprawled at his feet.

"That woman has gods money. Y'all ever need help, you go see her. She has the grace of our lord and the beauty of his mistresses" The old man chuckled to himself, clutching at the almost empty bottle of whiskey.

John would have scoffed, calling him crazy. But this city was the city of opportunity, and wealth. So who was he to dismiss this claim. He had seen a lot crazier over his time. He had informed his mentor of this tip, who seemed as hesitant as the rest of the group. "We already have Bronte to deal with, we don't know anything about this family" Hosea offered a word of wisdom to the pondering mustache.

"Bronte is good for nothing player for our dear friends, the government. L/n might be a better angle for money" He stroked the hair on his chin. "We need a break from that bad mouthed Italian, anyway."

"You sure about this, Dutch?" Arthur was leaning on the opening of his tent, listening in to the small crowd discuss.

There was no questioning or persuading Dutch once his mind was made. They would start with a simple conversation with the woman, scouting out the place and seeing who she is as a person. Him, John, Sean and Hosea would go. To try charm her.

Her home was large, beautifully carved pillars at the entrance of the building inviting them in like a colosseum. "Stealing the house should be an option" Sean chortled to himself, hoisting the strap of his handle over his head and taking off his hat as they began to knock on the door.

"Do we even have a way about this?" He spoke again to the man in front of him. He was given a knowing look in return, one that said 'be quiet and trust me'.

The doors swung open, revealing the typical Butler on the other side, accompanied by a herd of guards to see what the unexpected intrusion was about. Dutch's hands flew up in surrender, followed by an unruly smirk plastered under the hair on his lip.

"What do we owe this... Pleasure" The butler looked down on the delinquents in front of him, expecting trouble not to far away.

"No need for the guns boys" Dutch chuckled "We are here for miss l/n. We hear of her good nature and are in need of her help with a certain matter"

"We don't just let anyone through these doors mister..."

"Cornwall" he tipped his hat "At your service"

The mans eyes widened, both with embarrassment and fear. "Leviticus Cornwall?"

"That's the one! Apologies for the state of me, we've been on the road for quite some time. I see how my looks can be deceiving"

Not long passed before they were in a lush dining room, each at a chair of their own with a hot beverage in their grasp. Guns still surrounding the room for safety, but not pointed at them at least. A well dressed woman soon appeared, catching all their attentions. Especially Sean's. He was no stranger to attractive woman, being the promiscuous rascal that he is. But she was a whole other word. What caught his attention was her short hair, and the fact she wore trousers. That wasn't very common for women of these times. Her refusal to be conventional was enchanting him to look more into her features. That homeless man was onto something. She was really carved from the heavens above, and he had pleased the gods enough to be in her presence in this moment.

John had noticed him staring, hitting him on the back of the head. "Focus, horny bastard." He mumbled to him. Hosea was first out of his seat to kiss the lady's hand, formally introducing the group as if they weren't a herd of criminals. Y/n waved her men away, and they hesitantly left with the door shutting behind them.

"I know who you are, Van der Linde. It's hard not to when your face is plastered on every corner of every street" Her tone sounded like it should have been serious, but the smile on her face showed an ounce of... happiness? Dutch couldn't even begin to backtrack before she spoke again. "No need to worry. I'm not going to turn you in. But why don't we start with what you want from me? Hm? Money i'd assume?"

Dutch took his hat into his hands and smiled as dearly as he could muster. "I suppose money is an easy way to put it" He began "If we are being honest with each other, miss l/n, we have been working hard these past few months to escape this retched country. We don't want your money, as such, but we do want your status to help us get away from the law for a while"

Hosea threw Dutch a confused scowl, John followed his lead. They were here for money, not protection. How dare he even suggest they were hopeless.

Y/n took a seat at the end of the wooden table, her face perfectly framed the the light shining through the large window on the side of the room. She sighed, bringing her hands to her temple.

"Listen... I honestly don't care what you want. You can have it all" Her voice was hushed. "I just want a break from all of this. If you can help me with that, you can have all the riches and men you need" Her eyes pleading, as she locked with Sean's.

"You want out of this life?" He had to stop a laugh as he admired her. "I'd kill for a home like this"

"I guess we all want what we can't have" she forced a smile

"If we were to help you get out, they would think we kidnapped you." Hosea spoke up, clearly pondering. "Who's to say we won't kidnap you? How do you know we aren't just a group of killers?"

"I know who you are. I know you used to be the real life robin hoods of our century. And i also know how unfair the law is on you" she stood up. "This is what i want to happen...."

Hours had passed since their next mission was discussed. Dutch just saw it as an easy ploy to get some money. Just like a heist. They were to wait on the marshy swamps of lemoyn, just a few yards from the back entrance of her home. When the moon was in the center of the sky, she would escape from the window of her home and mount their horse.

She had given them a large sum of money before they left, and will give them another when they have her. She had told her men that Dutch had visited her to warn her. To warn her that the Lemoyne raiders were planning to abduct her. This was to set them up, make them believe Dutch was the good guy in this story.

The plan was executed perfectly, she staged a kidnapping and fled to the van der Linde's'. She mounted Sean's horse and clung to him for dear life as they rode back to Shady Bell. Sean felt like a knight saving a princess in that fleeting moment. She felt like a rebel on the run, because she was.

"What now?" John asked, hitching his horse. They all turned to y/n.

"I spend as much time as i can away from that retched place."

Weeks had passed. Her face was plastered on trees, fences, lamp posts. Her parents sending out distressing news articles about the search for their lost daughter. She would sit and chuckle to herself. Idiots. Of course the stress of being caught was weighing on her, but the new freedom she had found for her self was exhilarating.

"You alright?" The familiar Irish accent rung our from behind her.

"All good over here, how about you?"

He nodded at her, taking a seat on the floor by the embers floating from the dim fire. "Ya not bored yet? Just sitting around all day?"

She shrugged " I Suppose so"

"C'mon. You're not a prisoner here." He climbed to his feet again, eager to have an excuse to spend some time with her. A hand was offered and she hesitantly grabbed it.

"Where we goin'?" she followed him to his horse, which he assisted in helping her onto it.

"First, to get you an appropriate change of clothes. Secondly, to hunt some game. Pearsons up my arse about our lack of supplies" He followed her onto the horse, moving her hands around him. "No one else seems to be getting a speech about lack of supplies" He finished, mumbling to himself as he reached for her hands to place on his waist.

"Whats wrong with my clothes?" She sounded almost offended from behind him. Her tone squeaky.

"Nothin!" He lifted the reins and began to trot out of the comfort of the walls. "Just could do with being more... what's the word. Cowboy...ish?"

"Cowboyish? Is that even a word?"

"It sure is now lass, hold on tighter will ya?" He smacked the reins down faster, causing his stallion to leap into a run.

They made their way towards Rhodes, but stopped just before entering the town. "What's your size, y/n?"

She smacked the back of him "What?"

"Hey hey! Just so i can get you some clothes. It's not safe for you to go into a town right now"

She rubbed the spot she had just hit with remorse. "Oh, my bad. I'm not sure, I never have to worry about those things"

He hopped off the horse and hitched it to a fence behind a building. "It's alright, I can guess. Don't move from this spot"

She waited on the horse for what felt like hours, but was in reality about 15 minutes. "You're such a pretty little thing, aren't you?" She cooed to the horse below her, running her fingers through his mane while her body was sprawled across its frame. Glances shared from passers by, wondering which hospital she had escaped from.

"Why, thank you." Sean chortled, throwing the change of clothes at her and pulling himself back onto the horse. She rolled her eyes, looking at the set of clothes he had chosen for her.

"And where do i get changed"

"Don't worry, lass. There's an abandoned cabin a few yards thata way" He pointed behind them, grabbing the reins of the horse and setting on their way. "We can hunt round here too"

He had picked out a simple white shirt for her, a pair of blue jeans and a classic brown cowboy hat. "Not much of a taste for fashion, i see" She walked out of the room, trying to adjust her hair under the hat.

"You look good lass! A true ruffian now. here" He moved the hat further back onto her head, and pulled out a few strands of her hair that was caught. She smiled as she mapped out his face, eyed focused on his task.

"What do i do with my old clothes?" "Leave them here. It'll make your trail warmer if anyone finds them, especially since this is usually a Lemoyne raider hideout"

He had hitched his horse on a tree nearby, returning to grab a worn down bow, then leaving the animal to peace again as he led her through the small area of trees.

"Mind ya step, y/n. These parts turn into swamp real quick. Don't wanna feed a gator you're foot." He fiddled with the string on the bow as his eyes darted over to a small pond hidden in a mist of trees. "Over there!"

Y/ns eyes followed his finger, pointing towards a small white rabbit. "Oh!" she knelt down "How adorable is that!".

She had only just finished cooing when an arrow was fired next to her head, hitting the creature in the heart and connecting it into the now stirred up mud. Her hands flew to her mouth in horror as this small life had been taken by the deranged ginger man.

"What a shot" He laughed to himself, already pulling the arrow and picking it up by the foot like he was manhandling an O'Driscoll.

"Whats a'matter with you? Never hunted before?"

"No!" She yelled with a question in her tone. "I don't think I ever could"

Sean brought over the rabbit and shoved it into her hands "Well, in me defense, I warned ya! What happened to the gerl that wanted an adventure, eh?"

She looked at her hands in disgust.

"C'mon, once you go home you'll never get to do this again. Give it a try."

She held the animal an arms length away from her and sighed. "Okay, but I'm not skinning anything" the rabbit in her hand was traded for a bow, turning away from the man when she heard the stretch of fur being torn away from the meat.

"Right" he threw the fur to the floor and mindlessly put the carcass in his satchel, feet popping out the top. "You see them trails over there?"

She nodded

"That's a deer, so you wanna be as quiet as you can and follow them. I recon she's close"

They did just that, creeping through the trees till the deers head was visible behind a large fallen tree, blanketed by overgrown grass. The sun peeking through the canopy, and highlighting the animal that would soon see its fate.

Y/n held the bow up, arrow in between her two fingers and shakily drew it back. Sean so close she could feel his breath on her ear lobe. "Now, before you let it go, breath with me" He took a deep inhale, and let it out. Repeating it until she had stopped shaking. "Slow yer heart down, makes the shot more accurate" He put a hand on her elbow "And you wanna hold it like this". Readjusting her position for her, he hummed in satisfaction. "Atta girl, now, let it go"

She inhaled one last time, letting the arrow go along with her breath.

"Well, I'll be damned!" He chuckled, running over to the carcass. "You were born a cowgirl, lass!"

Y/n didn't know whether she should be proud or ashamed, but in her head she rationalized it by telling herself it would feed people.

"Thank you, sean" She appeared behind him, trying not to watch as he cut through the skin of the deer.

"For what?"

"For teaching me something valuable. A life skill" She fiddled with the excess material of her large shirt.

"Well, of course. Thanks for the company" He stood up straight, watching her lips stretch into a smile. Admiring the lines on her face that showed she was happy. He felt their bodies somehow gravitating closer, unsure who was moving towards who.

"I appreciate being out of that house. And even more so having met you" her eyes struggled to stay at his, shifting down to her hands and back up accationally.

"me too" Was all he had the courage to mutter. Her breath felt on his cheek, and her lips so close he could almost taste them. Their time was limited, he should just grab her face and show her how much he wanted her. But she was far more valuable than just one night together.

"We should.. get this back. Pearson will moan if the meat is spoiled" It hurt him, but he couldn't. Pulling the body of the animal over his shoulder really killed the mood for her, she backed away and let out a disappointed sound.

Midday had made its decent into afternoon as the sun bowed its head in the sky. Heat still blazing in the swampy air. Most of the people at camp had begun to wind down for the day, coming to an end with their chores. Sean had helped y/n off the horse and went straight to the food wagon to make his deposit.

"You hear the price for the girl? Her family must be generous or worried sick" Pearson chuckled, taking a swig from a small flask before tucking it neatly into his apron and continuing to cut up a small selection of veg.

"Maybe we should give her back, that money could send us to Tahiti" He mimicked Dutchs tone, forcing his voice to crack. Lenny scoffed in return and Sean remained silent, leaning against the Wagon.

"Surely we can't do that" Lenny spoke, poking his finger into the bowl of stew to sneak a taste, resulting in Pearson swatting at him.

"Heard Dutch talking about the possibility of it earlier"

"What?" Sean sprung up. "Why? She already gave us money"

"Where there is an opportunity for more greens, you know Micha is already whispering sweet nothings into Dutchs ear"

"No!" A cry was heard from the walls of shady bell, alerting everyone. Arthur was the first to respond to the alarm, then sean, Lenny following close behind.

"Come on, princess, don't you miss having a shower?" Micha teased, chasing her around the master bedroom on the second floor. Both standing on either side of the double bed, Micha ducking his head as pieces of wood torn from the floor are thrown his way.

"Touch me again and i'll splinter your face" y/n shouted, holding the wood up. His laugh was dark, almost a growl.

"A feisty one! see, you're not fit for this lifestyle. Lets get you home!"

Before the men had a chance to jump into action, a chorus of horses sounded their way into their secluded home. Was it a raid? There was so many feet hitting the ground. The group made their way to the balcony, Sean stepping between Micha and Y/n. A hand instinctively snaking round her waist.

"Where is she? You have her?" a man frustratedly swung off his horse, storming towards the dark haired man with a marvelous mustache.

"Of course we do! Why would we claim something that isn't true, good sir?" Dutch gestured his hands like he did.

"What is this?" Arthur snarled at Micha, who began to back away. Making his way down to the scene with Arthur following, throwing insults at the rat. Hosea could be seen whispering to Dutch down below, a stern look on his face. An eye caught with y/n, and a look of sympathy was shared before he began to pass this argument onto Micha.

"Don't worry lass, I won't let them take you" Sean held her tighter, pulling her away from visibility.

"Sean" she mumbled

"We don't need your money, we don't. Just don't go, please" He sounded like a teenager begging his girlfriend not to go home on a school night. But he meant it, if she didn't believe his words she could see his pleading eyes.

"Sean, I need to go. This didn't last long but my fathers men... they will kill you. All of you"

"But we-"

"No, you're outnumbered this time" She interrupted him looking up and reaching for the bridge of her nose to stop a river of tears. "I appreciate this little adventure, more so with you Mister Macguire" She forced a smile, letting herself lean towards the sad man.

"Me too, miss l/n" Was all he could mumble, letting their bodies come closer.

"Y/n! Where is she!" the mans frustration was turning into rage, clutching at the hefty shotgun in his hands. A handful of his men following in suit.

Their moment was ruined again, and she fled from his embrace. Not a second to look behind at Sean running after her, still pleading for her to stay.

"There's our girl!" Dutch chuckles, an arm around her shoulder as he guides her towards the army on their doorstep. Arthur had grabbed Sean like a doll as he ran passed, keeping him from getting himself killed.

"We are outnumbered Sean" He said out the corner of his mouth "You gotta let this one go"

He watched at the money was exchanged and the possible love of his life was shoved on the horse with such force. Hostile glances shared from the suited up men, knowing she was in for hell when she would return. She refused to look at him, ashamed that she didn't choose to run with him. She should have. She should have kissed him, at least.

His body writhed under the bears grip. "get offa me Morgan!" He hollered, trying to wriggle free.

"We will get her back Sean, we aren't animals." Hosea offered some comfort, watching the horses disappear around the corner.

The Irishman felt a hold form in his heart as she faded from his vision. "I didn't even kiss her"

[princessimotep]

Tienes Mi Corazón - Chapter 3

One week had passed since Miriam had joined the Van Der Linde camp. The women of the gang had been particularly kind to the young woman, making sure she settled in. However, that was thing. She hadn’t settled in. The entire time she had remained quiet, not uttering a single word to anyone. Javier hadn’t been round to check in on her due to mission arrangements which required him to be out of camp for a long while. Although the young woman was quiet, she still completed whatever chores needed doing by Miss Grimshaw. She did them promptly and efficiently which immediately put her into the older woman’s good books. Half of the reason being, Miriam wished to pay the gang back for their kindness for taking her in and the other half being she wished to finish her day early so she could wander off somewhere just outside of camp to read. That was something she and Mary-Beth had in common. Mary-Beth kindly let Miriam borrow her books and she had finished reading almost all of them. Both Mary-Beth and Sadie were the most understanding of all.

It was late afternoon and the sun scorched brightly down through the trees which Miriam escaped to. She pressed her back against one notably large tree and slid down it, sitting silently in the shade. The way the rays beamed down through the foliage, it cast a mystical light onto the book she pulled out. Finding the page she was last reading, she sighed quietly. Not out of content but out of longing. Longing to find true peace in her situation… and to see her rescuer again.

Meanwhile, back in camp, a familiar grey overo steed trotted into camp with his loyal rider aboard. Dutch looked past Miss Grimshaw and Hosea who were conversing with him about the new girl. “Speaking of the man… Javier!” Dutch exclaimed, holding his hand up to greet him. Javier jumped down and hitched Boaz to the post. The younger male nodded to his leader.

“Yes, boss?” Dutch signalled the man over. “What’s the problem?”

“Before we get into that, how did it go?” Javier shrugged, pulling out a cigarette. He swiped a match against his boot to light it up. Flicking the match’s fire away, he breathed in the fumes before letting out a long, relaxed exhale.

“As good as it could, boss.” He then hummed in realisation, holding up his index finger. He twisted round his body to reach into his back pocket. The result being a wad of cash. Javier walked over to the cash box, placing the gang’s share inside and then pocketing his cut inside his inner jacket pocket. Dutch chuckled proudly.

“Well done my boy.” Miss Grimshaw sighed.

“Yes, yes. Well done, Mister Escuella. Now onto newer matters.” She exerted. Grimshaw held out her hands to get the younger male’s focus. “It’s Miss Miriam.” She now had Javier’s undivided attention.

“What about her?” He quickly responded, a slight hint of concern in his voice.

“She hasn’t spoken a single word since she’s been here!”

“Maybe… she’s just quiet?” Grimshaw tutted at Javier.

“It’s not just that. She hardly touches her food, despite Mr Pearson’s best efforts. She leaves the safety of the camp and goes, God knows where!” Seeing Grimshaw go a little red in the face, Hosea takes over.

“What we mean to say, Javier is…” Hosea places his hand on Javier’s shoulder, getting him to take a couple steps away from Dutch’s tent. “We’re concerned about the girl. We don’t know who she is, or where she’s from. It’s making it harder for us to help resolve her situation. And certainly, her not eating… well, we don’t want the poor girl to starve.”

“And where do I come into this?” Hosea gave Javier a knowing smile.

“She’s sweet on you.” Javier froze, caught off guard for a split second.

“Miss Miriam has only talked to you since being with us.” Grimshaw followed and Hosea once more continued on.

“She looks around camp for you, like a lost puppy. So, we think it’s only right that… you give her some company.”

“Company?” Javier quizzed.

“Just spend some time with her and… well maybe she’ll start to feel more comfortable in camp. Shed some light on who she is and how we can help her.” Javier thought about it and it did not take him long to nod. His thoughts still captivated by what Hosea stated earlier about Miriam being sweet on him.

“Sure.”

“Then it’s settled.” Dutch ended the discussion, calling Hosea back over to discuss future plans and waving away Miss Grimshaw. Javier strutted back to his tent, removing his denim jacket, and placing it on his bedding. He rolled his shoulders back until he heard a satisfying crack before finding his hat. Cigarette still in his mouth, he pushed the head piece firmly upon his head and looked around for where Miriam might be. Remembering the information Grimshaw gave him, he suspected she would be on the outskirts of camp, or at least not too far from it. He made his way through the trees.

Whisps of paper turning over soothed Miriam’s ears. The crisp freshness of a page gave an odd delight to the young woman. It helped her to feel immersed into the story she was reading. Currently her mind was in a realm of dragons who fought against brave knights to save their fair maidens whom were kidnapped beyond the charred lands. She smiled deeply at the paragraph before her, detailing how one of the knights looked down at a handkerchief his lover had given him before she was taken; for it reminded him of her and how he would stop at nothing until she was back in his arms.

“Así que aquí es donde te has estado escondiendo.” (“So this is where you’ve been hiding.”) Javier’s words rolled off his tongue so quickly, by the time he finished, Miriam had only just looked up. However, upon meeting his eyes, she smiled, happiness clear in her expression.

“Javier…” The way he leant against the tree; with his arms folded, one foot crossed in front of the other and his hat casting a shadow across his face, Miriam felt butterflies attack her stomach. She tucked her hair behind her ear. “How have you been?”

“I’ve been fine. Got sent away on a mission. It was a long one.” She nodded just slightly, glad to have some closure on where he had been. The young woman had thought up so many scenarios on what he was doing and almost all of them made her worry for his safety. “What about you?”

“I… I’ve been better.” Javier appreciated the honesty.

“Miss Grimshaw says you haven’t been eating.” Miriam stayed silent. The raven-head got down to her level, sitting beside her now. “You have to eat, cariño.” Changing the subject, she tilted her head at him.

“Ca… riño? What does that mean?” Her gentle voice made him smirk. She was so innocent. He found it… cute.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He teased.

“Well, I’d like to know what you’re saying.”

“And where’s the fun in that… cariño?” When he said the term of endearment this time around, Miriam’s cheeks flushed, a spasm of warmth coursing rapidly down to her lower abdomen. This mysterious persona yet charming and kind nature he possessed was so attractive to her. Part of her enjoyed the lack of understanding she had when he spoke to her in his native tongue. It encouraged to her bite back a little. She gave a short laugh to conceal her blush.

“You’re being very rude.” Javier blinked yet a smile still there to proclaim his own innocence.

“How so?” Laughing once more, Miriam closed her book and got up. Wrapping both arms around the literature and began to walk deeper into the trees. Javier couldn’t help himself but jest some more as he tried to follow after her. “¿Adónde vas?” (“Where are you going?”) Miriam stopped in her tracks; looking over her shoulder, smiling at him in a way which looked like she was half finding the situation amusing and the other half being astounded at his persistence.

“I think you’re taking advantage of my poor understanding of Spanish, Mister Escuella.” He stopped also. He put his hands on his hips, a grin now plastered across his face.

“Is that so?”

“I know so.” It was her turn to put a hand on her hip. “You obviously relish in watching me look at you, clueless and just when I find the courage to ask what you mean, you deny me.”

“Courage…” He chuckled, lowering his cap slightly so she was unable to see his eyes as clearly. “I didn’t realise I was so scary to talk to.” Her expression changed, not expecting him to respond like that.

“I… what I mean to say is…” She took a step closer to gain his attention. “I’m quite intrigued by your language. It sounds so… fascinating and beautiful. I only wish to learn more.” Mirroring her last movement, he too stepped closer. Now Miriam was arching her neck back to look up at him. His eyes a deep dark amber, shrouded with enigma.

“Entonces escucha atentamente, cariño…” (“Then listen carefully, darling…”) A twig snapped beneath his boot as he took one last step closer. She didn’t back down from his advances, keeping her eyes locked with his. He leant down, his lips inches away from her ear. “Te enseñaré un par de cosas.” (“I’ll teach you a few things.”) Her breath became jagged. He was so close to her. She couldn’t help but slightly turn her head to try and look him in the eye. Oh, how she regretted it. Javier’s eyes looked so intense. Smouldering effortlessly. A slither of fear ran down her spine, praying that her knees would keep her standing for her belly was now dancing in tight circles. Javier broke the gaze by stepping back to chuckle. He pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head as he did so. Ever so quietly, Miriam huffed.

“What’s so funny?”

“Your expression, cariño. It’s so…” He held his hand out, rotating his fingers round in loops to try and find the word he was looking for. “… dulce.”

“Dulce?” His expression softened.

“Dulce.” He repeated, more enunciated this time to help with her pronunciation.

“Dulce.”

“There you go.” Javier spoke, encouragement in his voice. She smiled at her small victory but then frowned.

“But… what does it mean?” The dark-haired male looked at her, soaking in her beautifully confused expression not long before turning on his heel to head back towards camp. Just before she could retaliate, Javier responded.

“I’ll tell you… if you eat with me back at camp.” Once more he looked at her. This time his expression was no longer playful. It was stern yet somewhat pleading. Miriam looked down, being reminded of why she didn’t feel comfortable to eat. She could not explain why to him, in fear of what he would think of her. Yet all her worries seemed to disappear when she noticed his hand outstretched to her. “Toma mi mano.” (“Take my hand.”) For the first time, she unknowingly understood what he meant by his words. Miriam placed her hand in his where his tanned fingers wrapped around her slender ones. He gave it the faintest of squeezes before pulling her along behind him.

The two of them made it back to camp where Mr Pearson had just placed his big stew pot down – ready for the gang members to help themselves to. There was no disorderly rush, just a couple members at a time, at random intervals going for their share of food. Javier guided Miriam over to the empty table and there he left her so he could grab her a bowl of stew. She tucked her hair behind her ears, feeling somewhat nervous for reasons she still didn’t wish to share. By the time she sat down, Javier had returned with a bowl for himself and one for her.

“Here.” He placed it front of her. “It’s not the best, but Pearson does his best.” Miriam delicately scooped up a spoonful and stared at it. Javier watched from the corner of his eye, starting on his own bowl. Trying her best to overcome her mental battle, she placed her lips around the spoon and swallowed the liquid. A narrow smile tugged at Javier’s lips. “Dulce… it means ‘sweet’.” The educational moment warmed Miriam’s heart, taking another mouthful whilst she smiled to herself. Javier in turn found her reaction so charming.

“Sweet, hm? Like… honey sort of sweet?” She responded.

“Uh… yes. Yes. Helps describe a lot of pleasant things.”

‘Oh God…’ Miriam thought to herself, feeling that warm rush return to her lower abdomen. Why did he have to say things like that? In a way that could make any person swoon. She cleared her throat, trying to focus back on her food. “How would you describe this, then?” She asked, referring to Pearson’s food which was clearly not pleasant. Javier leant back in his chair and shrugged looking down at the bowl.

“Comestible.” The young woman smirked at him, awaiting his elaboration. He looked at her completely serious, an almost blank expression. “Edible.” Then something unexpected happened. She found herself truly laughing, out loud. It caught a few of the gang member’s attention. In particular, Mr Pearson, who put a hand on his hip, scowling.

“Something funny?” Javier raised his hand, shaking it in defence as he called over to him.

“No, no, Mister Pearson! The food is good!” Another bubble of laughter erupted from within the newcomer. The camp’s chef grumbled something under his breath as he continued working at his station. Miriam’s laugh made Javier smile from ear to ear. It was quite a dirty laugh; unlike anything he had ever heard before. He liked it. “Was it something I said?” The young woman brought her index fingers to her eyes, wiping away the tears which prickled her waterline.

“It’s just how you said it.”

“How did I say it?”

“You said it so serious! Like you were so…” More laughter escaped her which resulted in her now holding her belly, a painful stitch beginning to form. “Stop it!” The laughter began to hurt, yet she still couldn’t cease the action. “Please!” The more she thought about how Javier looked when he said it, the funnier it got.

From a distance, Hosea looked up from his newspaper; seeing the pair enjoying each other’s company. His own grin gracing his features. He shook his head, flipping over to the next page. Hosea was usually right about these things and it seemed he had resolved the situation quickly.

Finally, Miriam calmed down, fanning herself to cool off. Javier rose an eyebrow, looking smug at the chaos he caused at the table. “You okay?”

“Yes. I’m so sorry-”

“Don’t apologise. It was nice to hear.” Not wanting herself to be embarrassed any further, she placed down the spoon back into the bowl and excused herself from the table. She failed to eat all of it, but it was progress. Miriam took her bowl away to go wash up and Javier followed behind with his own. She offered to take it for him but he insisted on helping her. The raven-head rolled his white sleeves up, exposing his muscular forearms. Miriam couldn’t help but notice how well dressed he was. His black waistcoat hugged onto his body, exposing how broad and wide his chest was from underneath. In addition, the way his ebony locks fell down his face, just exposing the slit across his eyebrow and chiselled cheeks. The man was beautiful. She pondered on the thought of how lucky she felt to have been saved by him. He could have easily tried to have his own way with her after killing that O’Driscoll, but instead he showed her kindness which she thought did not exist.

Finishing the washing up, Javier shook his hands above the tub to get rid of any excess water. “Right, that should be it.” Snapping back into reality, Miriam swiftly dried her hands with a towel and headed over to her tent. Once she retrieved what she needed from her tent, the young woman returned to Javier.

“Before you go… I wanted to return this.” With both her hands, she offered back Javier’s neatly folded poncho. “There was a small rip in the back so I fixed it for you.” Javier gently took the material from her and unfolded the poncho to look at her patchwork. She had done a good job. It looked as though there was no obvious repair at all. His heart clenched at the thought of her sitting on some tree somewhere with a needle and thread in her hand, trying to fix something that was dear to him. He looked at her with warmth and gratitude.

“Thank you, Miriam.” There was a comfortable silence between the two. Before it got too long, Miriam pointed over to the ladies.

“I better go see if they need help.” Javier nodded. Shyly she smiled. “I’ll see you later.”

“Hasta luego.” (“See you later.”) The male took a second to process that afternoon’s events and he turned on his heel to walk away. Javier noticed Miriam had left her book on the table. He picked it up and contemplated returning it to her now or later. He held it tighter, deciding later would be best as it would give him another excuse to see her. Javier continued walking. He didn’t know where he was going to walk off to, but he knew he needed time to think. Upon passing, Hosea popped down his newspaper, still sat with one leg crossed on his seat.

“How’d it go?” The older man asked nonchalantly. Being lost in his own thoughts, Javier unknowingly ignored Hosea’s question and kept walking. He didn’t even realise Hosea was trying to speak to him. The elder shook his head, smiling. He licked his thumb to help turn another page of the paper. “Ah… young love.”

[sky-is-the-limit]

Who out of the van der linde gang do you think you would get along with the most and who do you think you’d get along with the least?

Aaaaahhhh I need to think about this logically and not let my second lips decide:

Okay so from the guys:

1) Javier (100% compatible, I'd feel so comfortable and good near this man, I'm learning how to play guitar and I already speak Spanish so we'd have a lot to talk about, he seems like the passionate type but the calmer version and I'd just add the right amount of chaos, plus smooth and romantic? I'd fold like a chair, i feel like i could talk to him about everything and just listen to him sing or talk about his past life, his dreams, everything. )

2) Arthur (he's quiet when he needs to be and jokes when the time's right, I'm just like that so I feel like we'd click? I also value loyalty above all but my morals come first so I feel like we'd see eye to eye on many things)

3) Lenny (my sweet boy, I feel like he'd be like a little brother to me, always eager to help and do things, we'd spend a lot of time just doing activities and talking about both nonsense and serious stuff)

4) Hosea (I love hearing stories, I'd spend hours just listening to him talk and give me advice and he's the man I'd go to for everything tbh)

5) Kieran (my love:( idk I have a feeling that we'd get along well and I'd go fishing with him and keep him safe and take him with me to do stuff cause he seems like the type to be quiet at first but excited and talkative when comfortable)

6) John (the reason why I put my fav in the middle is because we're too similar personality wise, we'd either be at each other's throats or soulmates, no in-between. One minute fighting the next fucking)

7) Dutch (I think I'd be very fascinated by him in the beginning, his demeanour, his knowledge, his vision, his taste for the finer things but I'd get irritated real quick, especially with his "hero/saviour complex" I'd just avoid him around camp and only talk to him when necessary. But fuck confident smart men who love music and books and know stuff have a magnetic pull on me)

8) Charles (the reason why I put him here is because I can't deal with people who are too quiet, silence and small talk make me uncomfortable??? However I'd always go to him for advice or just go hunting to get away from the others, tbh the more we'd bond the higher I'd put him)

9) Sean (listen, I love him, adore him even but all that energy ain't for me, 5 minutes in and I'd drown him in a lake)

10) Pearson (tbh we'd be chill I guess)

11) Uncle (no.)

12) Bill (we'd be fighting 24/7, I'd be on his ass nonstop, I hate that mf)

13) Micah (do I even need to-)

My girlies<3

1) Sadie (she'd motivate me to do stuff and I value that in a person cause sometimes I can get a bit lazy and she'd be the perfect person to keep be stimulated, also personality wise we'd click, the Aries to my Gemini)

2) Tilly (I love her so much, we'd just have endless conversations and get along really well. She's so smart and brave, nothing more compelling in a person)

3) Karen (I don't think that we'd hang out much but the moment when we would, we'd just have fun???? She'd help me get out of my unsocial shell and live a little)

4) Mary-Beth (She's the opposite of Sadie, she'd just calm me down yk, laying on the grass and reading books together or gossiping about the guys like girlies, I love that)

5) Abigail (my wife<3 the reason why I put her here is because I don't think that we'd have a lot in common or hang out per se but I think that we'd have a meaningful deep relationship and I could talk to her about everything and she'd be the person I'd be comfortable staying in silence with)

6) Susan (I'd appreciate her as a presence but the second she'd try to boss me around we'd have problems, I'd avoid her at all costs)

[witchkingachilles]

Since im still early in RDR2 im gonna rate the characters and once i finish the game im gonna rate them again

Arthur Morgan 9/10 absolutely love him

Micha bell -100/10 he is the worst i regret breaking him out of jail he literally sucks

John marston 8/10 i like him i really do but im not too sure about him

Charles smith 20/10 amazing hunter, sweetheart, and def a mammas boy love him to death, i think im in love, that’s. A big boy right there

Sean maguire 10/10 makes me happy and is really funny (he’s also my fellow chaotic redhead)

Dutch van der linde 3/10 i dont know he just seems kinda shady

Hosea Mathew’s: 12/10 def the father of the gang!

Edit: Love Hosea he’s my dad now absolutely adore him def my new comfort charecter

Kieran duffy 8/10 don’t mind him, seems sweet, still not completely sure if he’s an O’drical or not

Javier escuella 19/10 literally a vibe, super cool, absolutely love him

Lenny summers 8/10 haven’t really interacted all that much, he seems sweet

[ellamorgan333]

[21witnokidz]

IN THE GHETTO

Chapter 10

Warning: Smut

8 years later

Moldy peaches? No. Bit off apple? No. Stale bread? Doable.

The gang had made their way close to a town called Armadillo, fairly close to Blackwater. All you were trying to do was find some food since y’all were running out.

“Dutch you’re not gonna believe what I found. It’s gonna blow your mind”. Of course you were being sarcastic when you presented him the stale bread you found in the empty cabin.

“Hm.. well I bet that’s better than whatever the hell they’re giving to Arthur in that prison” Dutch said helping setting up camp.

That’s right. We had a little run in with the O’Driscolls before coming here resulting in Arthur getting arrested. I don’t know what he expected when he decided to try and stay behind to loot the dead bodies he shot.

“I’m gonna go and bust him out. You comin Hosea?”

“I might as well. I already have a plan in tact”

You and Hosea rode your horses to the Armadillo jail and saw the sheriff sitting at the front desk smoking a cigar.

“Here’s the plan. You’re gonna go in there and report a robbery while I slip in there and get our boy out”

Hosea always had some scheme cooking up in that brain of his. We honestly could’ve gotten Arthur out yesterday but we all thought we should keep him in there for the night for him to think over his stupidity.

You walked inside the jail and put on my best face to look like you had been shaken up.

“Mister sheriff please! There was this terrible man outside who robbed me! If we hurry we could catch him and throw him in this place like the rest of the trash here!”

You looked directly at Arthur while saying the last bit who had his hand covered over his mouth trying not to laugh.

“I’m sorry ma’am but we have to wait for someone else. I can’t just leave the jail without anyone keeping watch-“ the sheriff tried to explain

“Please sir he’ll get away. He stole my engagement ring my late husband had given to me and... and- that was the only thing I had left of him” finally you broke down into tears.

“O-ok. I’ll look for just 5 minutes but after that you’re outta luck I’m sorry”

“Thank you” you got up and wiped your crocodile tears

After you and the sheriff left, Hosea came in and stole the keys. He unlocked the bars to Arthur’s cell.

“Took ya long enough”

“Yea well Annabelle insisted you stay another day for being stupid”

Annabelle, Colm O’Driscoll’s sister, a girl who Dutch had found to be sweet on. Now she ran with y’all in the gang taking on the same role Bessie had.

After the sheriff had looked for the nonexistent man for 5 minutes he gave it up like he promised, sending you on your way with 3 dollars for sympathy. You kinda felt bad for lying to him. You found your way back to Arthur and Hosea seeing Arthur with that stupid smirk.

“Hey darlin’”

“Don’t hey darlin’ me”

Still you let Arthur pull you into a kiss. Things had been different since that accident at the mansion. You and Arthur agreed to just not talk about it again and move on. Now Arthur was 22 and you 21 and you guys were much more mature. Or so you liked to think.

“Is there anything back at camp I’m starving”

Those men at the jail most likely hadn’t given him anything to eat ever since he got thrown in there.

-

Back at camp everything was set up including your and Arthur’s shared tent.

“Ok please tell me we caught a wild boar or something” Arthur expressed his hunger once more.

“Well geez Arthur. Not even a ‘hello’? As soon as you come back you immediately start asking for food” Bessie, who was just recently gossiping with Annabelle was still a nagger. Still you guys did make up after the whole scene you caused after the mansion job.

“We have salted beef with stale bread. Take it or leave it”

“Oh I’ll definitely take it”

Ever since we figured out what gang the man with the pig birthmark belonged to we had been tracking them down. Eventually Dutch did become rivals with their leader, Colm O’Driscoll. After all he stole his sister from him, Annabelle.

Arthur leaned towards you after finishing his food.

“Wanna go into the woods?”

Immediately you got up and made your way to the woods with Arthur right behind you.

“Be careful you two” Hosea meant that both ways of course.

Arthur pushed you up against a tree and attacked your lips. “That food must’ve done something to your nerves huh baby?” You laughed into his mouth. “Nah it was that cold night in jail. I hate being by my lonesome without you”

“What’ya want me to do to you sugar?”

Whenever he used that name you knew exactly what was on his mind.

“Anything you want”

“Ooh I like the sound of that”

He threw your shirt over your head and started nipping at your neck. You started wearing pants and a shirt more often since it was easier to ride a horse and get around. The only downside is that it was harder for Arthur to get his access to you.

He pulled your pants and undergarments down and grabbed your hips. You unbuckled his belt and pulled his already hard member out. You put your arms around his neck and kissed him hard. “I’ve missed ya so much sugar I fear I might be fast” Arthur admitted. He inserted himself into you slowly and you both sighed at the same time. He pulled out and pushed himself back in fully bottoming out.

“Stop being gentle and just fuck me”

“Patience sugar”

He started at an agonizingly slow pace which was actually starting to make you frustrated. Like damn he just was just talking about how much he missed you and now he’s trying to tease you??? Despicable. You squeezed his shoulders hard and he understood and decided to stop teasing. He quickened his pace causing moans and whines to slip out of your mouth.

“You like that sugar? You want me to go faster? Harder? This is your rodeo doll just tell me how ya want it”

“Harder. Please you feel so good don’t stop”

He slowed his pace down a little to put more force into his thrusts. He could feel the tension in his stomach start to build up. “It’s gonna happen. Are ya close?” You shook your head and Arthur felt a little disappointed. He knew he wasn’t gonna last long but he at least thought he could make you close before he came. He pushed you harder to the tree for support and brung his left hand down to start rubbing on your clit.

“Oh Arthur. That’s it just hold out for a bit baby”

“How can you just say that when you’re squeezing me like a vice down there”

Finally he brought you to an orgasm that left you shuddering in his arms.

After a few more thrusts he finally pulled out and came on the floor. You both were breathing hard but were glad you both got able to finish. Believe it or not that was kind of a luxury. Between Arthur always being called to go on jobs or him just simply not being able to hold himself long enough, one or both of you always gets left unsatisfied. And whenever Arthur cums too fast, which is often, he always feels really bad and makes sure to use his fingers on you after.

Still his ring for you sits heavy in his pockets.

[moonlitsnail]

rdr2 updates! ive spent all morning playing

i had put big boy (my big horse) away bc he was getting rlly fussy for no reason?? and so its been me and snowball (my other horse lol) against the world for a while! last time i played i had forgotten id done the valentine shootout so i couldnt swap her back out like i wanted to, but i did it today! so big boys back! i luv him sm

last time i did the valentine shootout and the strawberry breakout and we moved camp, so todays been mostly exploring. i got roped into papa fishing trip at the end of my last session (the curious couple and their unruly son 😭) which was so sweet, love arthur and dutch and hosea smmm

also at the start of this session sean wanted to go rob a house so we did! but he doesnt know im a pack rat and he kept getting pissy at me for taking so long, but like!! they had loot! and usually when i end missions the lawmen show up and i wanna get all the goodies! it was silly tho

but yeah! exploring! i got a vulture feather ages ago and have been wanting to get the seagull feather to make the lil hat accessory so todays missions were 1. go to a barber bc arthurs hair got long 0_0 2. go to the tailor in saint denis bc i LOVE that black shirt all the low honor edits use and i HAVE to have it and 3. kill a seagull lol

i got barbered, spent like 200 bucks at the tailor and have like 15 new fits lmao (unironically played arthur dress up for like an hr), and swapped snowball for big boy before coming back towards home to find a seagull. we nearly got attacked by a gator i almost ran over on the way out of town 0_0 and it was rlly scary for us both (me n big boy)

i got my feather!

AND THEN KIERAN WANTED TO GO FISHING!!!!!! and i love kieran, so we went fishing :3 hes rlly sweet and its so funny watching him interact w/ arthur when he gets all tease-y like he does. i think kieran was probs the person i talked to most back in horseshoe overlook just cuz he was like, always there and hes just so nice

also just to double back on my last sesh when we did papa fishing trip, i also ADORE trelawney, hes so goofy and i love that he just appears and everyones like bro what the fuck have u even been doing

but yeah! rdr2 going well! my goals for next sesh are to get that feather accessory made and to fat scam both myself and my horse if possible. i fat scammed myself out of being underweight but it only lets u eat n sleep so many times before it tells u to knock it off and play the game so, idk! hoping ill remember to do it more often!

[trippin-over-my-fandoms]

The Space Between Us

part 3 of Tomorrow is a Promise (That I Cannot Keep)

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Category: M/M

Fandom: Red Dead Redemption 2

Relationships: Hosea Matthews/Dutch van der Linde , Hosea Matthews & Arthur Morgan , Dutch van der Linde & Arthur Morgan

Characters: Dutch van der Linde , Hosea Matthews , Arthur Morgan

Additional Tags: AU, Young Arthur Morgan, Young Dutch van der Linde, Young Hosea Matthews, Young Parents, Gay dads, idiots in love but its angsty, arthur is three, Family Fluff, Co-Sleeping, lack of boundaries, de-aged arthur morgan

Language: English

Words: 1579

He had been asleep just long enough he had begun to dream. It had to have been deep and hard enough, too, because for a few fleeting moments it feels real. The dream that he’s living the life of a different version of himself, somewhere far off, in a house that they won't be leaving in a few days, one they call theirs, one who’s door frame they mark the ever changing height of their child.

It was Dutch’s fault really. The man’s idea of pillow talk was sharing domestic dreams. Hosea found it funny since when he had met the man he was reckless with an adventurous spirit that burned like a magnesium fire. Of course he was still the same man, still talked about his wild ideas of living in the untameable west only now they were accompanied with ones of domesticity. Their dreams could be reality if Dutch would just accept the way the world actually was. Instead he chased the ideals of great american outlaws who knew no laws and there Hosea was to make sure he didn’t get himself into too much trouble with a sweet little child in tow, all because he loved him too damn much.

That never ending argument ebbs itself into his dreaming. Suddenly, instead of living some perfect domestic life of a couple of homesteaders, they’re fighting, voices booming loud over the thunder from the storm outside that mirrored the storm in their marriage. Marriage. They were married in his dream. But it wasn’t a happy one. Not anymore. Despite settling down like Hosea had convinced him to, even if it was best for their boy, Dutch’s heart was still wild and he fought him, declaring how tied down he had felt. How this life was what Hosea wanted and Hosea tells him taking in Arthur was his idea.

Arthur. Arthur who thought the way they traveled around was some big adventure. Arthur, their little boy who seemed to always be smiling or knew just what to do to make them smile, even at such a young age. Arthur who Hosea loved with his whole heart and who he knew Dutch loved too.

keep reading

[outlier-rookie]

Of Blood And Greatness - Chapter 3

Chapter 3/?? - Settling In With Some Concerns

AO3 Link

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26305741/chapters/71331201

***

The next few chapters might be a bit slow pace wise because I want to build up a few more interactions between Reader and the Gang members. Don’t worry, we’ll get to the action soon enough.

TRIGGER WARNING: Anxiety/Panic Attack

***

“Wow (Y/N)! You’re as strong as Uncle Arthur!” (Y/N) paused long enough to shoot Jack a cheeky grin as they continued their path towards the horses, slowly carrying the last hay bale. The tall skittish fella, Kieran, had tried to offer to take the bales instead but (Y/N) was insistent that it wasn’t that heavy and they were no stranger to hard work and heavy lifting. Miss Karen had also had a good laugh with the other girls about the teen putting the likes of Bill and Sean to shame with how much heavy lifting they did around camp. Mrs. Grimshaw, as scary as she was at times, was also quick to praise (Y/N)’s hard work and help with the camp chores.

It had been a few days since everything that happened up near Cattail Pond and as the teen feared, Dutch was less than pleased with the total sum brought back to camp. But like Arthur had promised he was also understanding and despite (Y/N) feeling like they hadn’t delivered on their promise, Dutch welcomed them into the ragtag family of outlaws with a speech and fanciful words of things only getting better from here.

Still, the teen spent their days mulling over their failure with a hollow feeling sitting in the pit of their stomach. Mr. Hosea had sat next to them by the campfire one night with stew in hand and talked about nothing in particular. He started telling short stories from the gang's past and it didn’t click until the teen was falling asleep that night but the stories all had similar feelings to their blunder with the money. (Y/N) fell asleep smiling at the stars that night, putting the memory of Dutch’s ill-concealed disappointment behind them.

***

“Arthur! Welcome back son.” Dutch was sat by his tent smoking a cigar as Arthur led (Y/N) over to him. “So!” he started, standing with his arms extended; whether it was meant in a divine or welcoming manner, (Y/N) wasn’t entirely sure. “How’d your little excursion go?”

“’Fraid we ain’t getting to Tahiti or Australia with what we recovered.” The grizzled outlaw started. “Seems that someone else got to the stash before young (Y/N) here and took most of what we had.” Something in the teen's stomach dropped as the light in Dutch’s eyes seemed to dim slightly. The dark-haired man hummed and folded one arm across his chest, the other bringing his cigar back to his lips. He paused for a moment breathing slowly, the smoke flowing past his lips before being taken by the breeze.

“How much did you get then?” He finally asked

“Would have had ‘bout one third.”

“’Would have’?” (Y/N) shifted nervously and refused to meet Dutch’s eyes, ashamed that they had disappointed this man.

“O’Drisscols.” Arthur replied. “Weren’t the kids' fault. They ambushed us as we were crossing Cumberland Falls. Some of the money went over the falls. Didn’t want to risk staying around in case the law came snooping around. Was a pretty big scene.”

“I see.”

(Y/N) timidly raised their head to find Dutch’s piercing eyes once again focused on them. An old but familiar feeling of helplessness gnawed at their insides, causing their stomach to twist. As their instincts yelled at them to hide, Arthur stepped forward slightly and half placed himself between them and Dutch.

“It wasn’t their fault Dutch.”

“And you can be absolutely sure about that Arthur?”

“As a matter of fact, I can. If they was working with the O’Driscolls to set a trap, then they would have shot me and not three of Colm’s boys.”

Dutch actually seemed surprised by this.

“Sounds like they weren’t embellishing their skills with a gun.” Hosea’s smoother voice was like a cool balm on (Y/N)’s nearly fried nerves.

“Damn right. Them idiots didn’t know what hit em. Kid put them all down with one bullet each.” Arthur replied, stepping back some. An unexpected swift and heavy pat on the back sent the teen stumbling slightly and (Y/N) swore they saw a slight grin on Arthur’s face.

***

“You ok there?” (Y/N nearly dropped the horse brush they were using, as Charles’ deep voice startled them out of their thoughts.

“Y-Yeah! Sorry, was just thinking. Did you uh, need something Mr. Charles?” Charles smiled and the minor change in his breathing suggested silent laughter.

“You can just call me Charles you know.” (Y/N) scrunched their face-up made a noise that was a mix between disagreement and something a bit lighter than disgust which drew another silent laugh from Charles before he continued. “Pearson was complaining that the camps getting low on meat so I offered to go hunting for him. You’ve got a good eye and steady hands so I figured I’d ask if you’d like to come.”

“Really?” Excitement bubbled up inside at the thought of being able to do more than just chores around the camp. (Y/N) could only lug so much water and carry so many sacks before it got repetitive and boring. They weren’t strong enough to properly chop firewood and Mrs. Grimshaw and practically chased them away from laundry and sewing after the first hour. “When you leaving?”

“As soon as possible. I’ll ready the horses while you grab your gun.”

“R-Right! Just give me five. I need to check my satchel.”

With a soft ‘Alright’ from Charles, (Y/N) dropped the horse brush by the hitching post and jogged across the camp towards the medicine wagon. A ratty lean-to was set up next to it and under it an old bedroll. It wasn’t a whole lot but it was more than they had before joining the gang. The well-used bedroll wasn’t nearly as soft as their bed back at Estelle’s home. A small framed photograph of the woman peeked out from under the corner of the bedroll. The faint reminder of the woman who could be sweet as honey one moment and mean enough to give an angry Mrs. Grimshaw a run for her money brought a familiar pang of guilt to the teen. Bitterly they pushed the feelings and memories away and turned the picture over, hiding away from the loving eyes of a woman hundreds or thousands of miles away.

(Y/N) blindly stuffed a few items in their satchel and reached for their gun. Their fingers had barely grazed the sun-warmed metal before they jerked their hand back as if it had burnt. Glassy blue eyes stared blankly at the gun laying on the ground, seemingly mocking them from its pathetic position.

Stupid child.

What were you expecting?

These people were outlaws.

They were no stranger to killing other people.

If you want to survive in their world, it's either shoot first or get dead.

It was hard to breathe as (Y/N) felt their chest tighten like a red hot metal vice had been wrapped around their chest. An old familiar panic started settling into their whole being, starting in their stomach before it wrapped its tendrils around their bones before boring its way into their throat and brain. The air itself caught in their throat and their vision was starting to blur slightly when a hot and heavy pressure made its presence known when it landed solidly on the teen's shoulder.

“Woah there! ‘Sokay! ‘Sokay kid, you’re alright ya hear?” The voice was deep and familiar and most importantly grounding. Still, it took a second for the pressure on their chest to dissipate enough and allow a cool, fresh breath to fill their burning lungs. Blinking, (Y/N) realised that some tears had gathered in their eyes and quickly moved to brush them away, sniffling as they did. Finally, they were able to look up as see Arthur crouching next to them, his brows furrowed gently as he watched them.

“Everything alright Arthur?” (Y/N)’s eyes flicked up to the approaching figure of Hosea.

“We’re fine Hosea. I just startled them is all.” Arthur replied easily. Hosea stood by for a moment before slowly approaching the teen, not too dissimilar to how one would approach a scared animal.

“You alright?” His soft, aged voice reminded the teen of Estelle once more.

“Y-Yeah.” They mumbled. “’M sorry. Dunno what came over me.” They looked away from the two men, eyes once again landing on their repeater as once again a wave of hot white anger flowed through their veins. A weight in their dominant hand drew their attention and (Y/N) suddenly understood why Arthur and Hosea were acting so cautious towards them.

In their hand was their trusty knife, the bronze metal gleaming dangerously in the sunlight. It quickly dawned on the teen that they had pulled it on reflex when Arthur had startled them. A hot flush of shame and embarrassment flooded through them as they frantically shoved the knife back into its sheath.

“Those are some damn fine reflexes you got kid.” Arthur said. The words may have formed a compliment but the tone was wrong and questioning. (Y/N) didn’t want to answer. They just groaned out a vague noise of agreement and pointedly avoided looking at the two men and finished packing their satchel. Slinging the strap over their shoulder the teen all but bolted past Arthur and Hosea making their way back to the horses where Charles stood waiting, making some final adjustments to Taima’s saddle. His movements held some extra tension and (Y/N) just knew that he had seen their little incident and the heat returned to their chest.

“Ain’t we going to go? Mr. Pearson needs meat, doesn’t he?” They snapped.

“You don’t have to come if you-”

“I’m fine!” They cut him off. “Come on.” They huffed, barely resisting the urge to stamp their foot. They were fifteen and basically a grown-up and grown-ups didn’t stomp their feet like toddlers when they were angry. A heavy hand was placed on their shoulder once more.

“Alright then kid.” Arthur said. His gruff voice was uncharacteristically soft. “Mount up. And let’s get goin’.” Gently, Arthur nudged them towards Fortuna who nickered and shoved her nose into (Y/N)’s chest. The mare huffed as the teen half-heartedly scratched her cheeks before silently climbing on. Fortuna shook her mane out and turned as much as she could, keeping an eye on her rider. She let loose another whine as she tried to nose (Y/N) again.

“I’m alright girl.” The whispered, pulling a carrot from one of the many pockets in their satchel and offering it to the worrisome mare. Fortuna took the carrot without protest and calmed as (Y/N) stroked her neck. Tugging on the reins, (Y/N) directed the mare’s head towards the path out of camp. Charles and Arthur were on the backs of Taima and Admiral. Not obviously watching them but also doing exactly that with incredible obviousness for two seasoned outlaws. Huffing, the teen kicked and urged Fortuna forward

***

I started hitting a wall with this chapter towards the end so the ending may feel somewhat abrupt. I didn’t have the energy to beta read this or whatever so all mistakes are mine.

I have a better plan for what will happen in the next chapter or two