#sorry it took so long. it started snowing and i got distracted 😭

[realredbanana]

@schelluminium (it wouldn’t let me add it in a reblog)

[makriiii]

Caught XII (Arthur Morgan × f!reader)

Word count: 3.1k

Authors notes: Sorry this one took so long 😭

Warnings: 18+, angst, guns.

♡

Caught XII

You hadn't gotten Arthur to do much this morning, as he was getting off easy after being asked by Abigail to take Jack to do something, something that would distract the poor boy from all the goings-on in this camp.

By no means were you mad at Abigail or Jack, but the snide look Arthur gave you as he walked by to his horse after telling the boy to get his fishing rod did.

"You think you're gonna get to leisure?" Snickering harshly as you decided then and there you were tagging along.

"Got business to do, I guess." He was more than happy to dismiss his duties, but you weren't letting up that easy.

"Fine then, but I'm coming with." You made sure you had all your guns, and though you didn't neglect them, you wished you had just so they'd be difficult for Arthur to clean. "Teach Jack to fish, but then you're cleaning my guns."

He bites back an argumentative retort, glaring at your face that now traded eachothers looks. A dirty smirk on yours and a vexed frown on his.

Pulling his eyes away from yours, he lifted Jack up on the back of his horse and pushed past you down the path leading to the river below the overlook.

Bouncing around on your horse after yesterday... you could feel most every part of your muscles burning and aching, especially your back, shoulders, and arms.

You wanted to get back at him, and now it was his turn to see how fun working was with a wound like yours.

Arthur and Jack spoke a bit of back and forth until you had enough courage to get your mare into a canter, much as your body protested.

"You feelin' better? I know you was a little sick." Arthur questions jack with a small check-up.

"Oh, I'm fine." He assures plainly. At that age, you recalled the simplicity of life.

"You're a brave kid." Compliments Arthur, the sort of warm speech you'd use with a kid. It didn't seem much Arthurs style, that's for sure, from what you were used to at least.

Jack looked up to Arthur, both literally and figuratively in that moment, confessing his conclusion. "So just like you."

Arthur gave him a chuckle, glancing over to you as you focused on not sliding out of your saddle with your sore legs shaking.

"I dont know about brave... I ain't much of a kid no more either." You were a bit surprised with this display, as typically he was all up in your face haughty. "Though your momma might disagree. Her and a few other women, I guess."

Now, his glance turned into more solid eye contact when you felt you were referenced in that sentence.

"I like it when you're agreeable." You nod with a certain light heartedness. The kind that was hard to muster around Arthur on a normal day.

His brow knitted together, but his playful look didn't completely vanish, no.

"What do you mean?" Jack chimes with confusion. He was still too young to understand humor of that sorts.

"Oh, I'm just talking silly. It's been a tough few weeks up in that snow."

"I liked the snow." Jack corrects as his eyes light up with the memory. For you, you'd been up there for only barely two days and didn't like it much. Their whole story of being up there you'd only caught snippets of.

The rest of the ride was short as you scoped out a good spot to fish at, Arthur and Jack, continuing a small conversation about the old camp and something he'd left behind in Blackwater.

It was tough for Jack, and tough to explain a situation like the gangs to a kid in a way he could not only understand but not start being worried or stressed.

You felt bad for him, but this whole trip was exactly for helping him not worry or stress.

Dismounting, you helped Jack down as Arthur got out the fishing supplies.

"You ready for fishin', Jack?" Distracting yourself with a question for him as your arms screamed at you with his weight being held.

He was still a bit skeptical of you. He knew about O'Driscolls and didn't like them much either as the rest of the gang. Did his part in pickin' on Keiran too, as young as he was.

His eyes scanned you with a harsh and genuine judgment only a young kid could give you, social skills not yet fully developed. "Yeah, I think so."

You walked him close to the water as you waited for Arthur, who wasn't far behind, holding the rods and bait.

"So, what was it you said you lost at Blackwater?" If it wasn't something completely unique, then perhaps you could get it for him.

"My storybook." He reiterates, clearly enough for your ears this time. That was easy enough for you to find. Probably. You hadn't seen a library in a long time.

"I'll see what I can do for you, hm?" You offer, not wanting to promise anything, just in case.

"Okay." He states plain as day. Conversing with kids was hard. So straight to the point most of them.

You stood back, heading for a small, dry rock to plant yourself on as you watched 'Uncle' Arthur verse Jack in the ways of fishing.

He seemed to catch on quick as they cast their rods out.

The whole setting by the river and birds achatter while Jack and Arthur were fishing, admittedly was the most calm you'd had for some time.

"I think you got a bite, look!"

The tranquil prattle ahead turned into excited calls from the both of them, your eyes drawing to the water to see what they spotted.

Arthur exclaims the same as Jack. "Fish on the line!" Safe to say, you hadn't seen Arthur like this at all before.

He reeled the line in as best he could as he fought with the thing, said thing, giving quite the scrimmage for its freedom against Arthur.

That was another learning chance for Jack, Arthur teaching him more tips along the reeling he was doing.

Once he had it close enough, he yanked it out. A dinky little thing, no bigger than your hand.

You let out a small snicker at his prize, one that perhaps wasn't worth the fight.

Arthur shoots you a look over his shoulder before holding it up to show Jack. "Look Jack, it's a bluegill! Almost as small as you."

Another small laugh came out of you at Arthurs laid-back teasing with Jack, who didn't seem much for the joke.

He threw the fish back in and cast his line back out, a short silence before Jack became disheartened with not catching anything. Wasn't long after that, he wanted to take a break, which was your time to strike.

As Jack strode a few feet away to a small patch of grass and flowers, you came up behind Arthur.

Your hand gripped above Arthurs shoulder, who jolted with your sudden arrival and touch just above his wound. "You see those guns on my saddle?"

He glowered at you next to him, glancing back and then to you again.

"I'll fish for you, get something bigger." You smile with raised eyebrows, feigning innocence over your cocky attitude.

Handing over the rod reluctantly, he went back unwilling to your mount to collect your guns. "Dont reckon you'll catch much better than me."

"Reckon I will. Dont doubt me yet."

"Too late for that."

You shake your head, switching your position to that of one you'd assume a professional would take. Likely it wasn't anyway.

"You got gun oil, or do I gotta use my own?" He gripes while he sat down in the distance between you and Jack, your shotgun and rifle in hand.

"Count it along my drinks you owe me." Gun oil was dirt cheap, and you didn't feel too bad if he had to use his own.

He grumbles something with a shake of his head and a quick venture into his satchel to grab some out. "I'm almost out since someone used most of it on my guns yesterday."

"They're clean, aren't they?" There was a chance you'd used a bit extra, but some of his guns were extra dirty, you shrugged. "We have to go to town soon anyways."

"Yes, we do." He was quick with his response, but both you knew your bounties would need to be paid off first. You just didn't want to arise any curiosity from Jack.

"I think you got a bite, y/n!" Jack points to the slight splashing in the water, just then finally paying mind to the tugging and whipping your head back around.

Bantering with Arthur distracted you from an activity you hadn't done for quite some time, something that you could agree with Jack on, was boring.

You reeled and pulled carefully, tugging the fish closer each time it stopped fighting. It took forever, and your full focus.

Just when you thought it finally conceded your attempt at yanking it to the surface, it pulled with vigor that near startled you.

"Dont loose it now, y/n." Arthur chortles behind you with his typical grating voice, the type that nearly lost you the fish.

As the fish finally slipped out of the water, you prepared yourself for the teasing you already knew you'd get from Arthur.

You could hear him chuckling evil. Both because of the fish but your confidence in your fishing ability. "Good thing we aint relying on you to eat."

"You weren't doin' much better than I was." Begrudgingly setting the small fish go before setting out the line again. You already felt like giving up. "I prefer fishin' in lakes anyway."

"I dont think you prefer fishin most of the time 'anyway'." His voice was much closer now, his steps near silent in the sand as he crept up on you.

"I fare better with guns, I suppose." You clicked your tongue disappointed that the fish proved Arthur right and your confident position started to slump. "Did you leave my guns in the sand?" You ask as you turn to give Arthur a look and your guns a glance.

Arthur was much closer than you anticipated, which somewhat shocked you. Not quite realizing how close he had actually gotten.

"Your guns are fine, but here." His chest suddenly met your back, and his hands finding themselves over yours. "You need to hold the rod like this."

You raise a cynical brow. Firstly, not realizing there was a wrong way to hold a rod, but secondly wondering why he was helping you physically, not just with his words.

The words you thought of saying prevented by another bite on the line. Jack calling it out again.

The sudden jerking caused Arthur to back up and let you at it, returning back to the guns he had left on the rock and thankfully not in the sand.

If you were not mistaken, the fight from this fish gave you hope that it was larger, but with that hope, a dread that your line was about to snap.

Arthur and Jack stayed just as silent as you, everyones sole focus on the splashing in the water as it wrangled closer to shore.

The splashes through the water made it hard to see how big it was on the surface, but you prayed and prayed it was big.

Finally, the splashing quit, and the fish revealed itself. The scales shone and glimmered in the sun as it wriggled in protest.

You looked over to them with dismay, both of them with a smile on their faces. "You think Pearson would be proud of me for this one?"

"No." Jack was quick to reply simply and truthfully, though a bit of a giggle mixed in as he fiddled with small red flowers in his lap.

"Pearson would be proud of himself if he caught the first one you had." Arthur chuckles along with Jack, finishing with your guns.

You couldn't help but laugh with them through the disappointment of another small catch.

As you threw the fish back into the water, Jack drew both yours and Arthurs' attention. "Hey, look at this."

"At what?" Arthur asks, walking back up to him.

You traipsed closer to get a better look, Jack holding up a necklace of flowers for display. "This necklace I made." Proud as could be.

"Necklace?" Arthur squints as he bends down to examine closer.

"For momma." Jack answers with a soft grip on it, cautious to not break any of the delicately knotted stems.

"That's sweet, Jack." You smile, impressed with his intricate craft. "Not even I can do that."

"Really?" He asked like it was something everyone knew how to do.

You handed back the rod to Arthur, who started deconstructing it for you. "I never learned properly -"

"What a fine young man." Interrupted a slithery voice behind you, which had you and Arthur both startling upright. "And in such complex circumstances."

In front of you had arrived two well-dressed men, dismounting and calmly floating to where the three of you stood.

"Arthur, isn't it? Arthur Morgan?" His tone and initial dialog was easy to be judged and labeled with ill-intent. The badges on their fancy and clean coats weren't helping either. "I think I've seen your face on a wanted poster or two, as well, miss." Now he directed, unexpectedly at you.

"Who are you?" Arthur made sure Jack was behind you and him, a sheild of sorts.

You already knew this wasn't business either of you wanted Jack hearing.

Arthur already had the same idea, both your eyes meeting, and with a small nod of agreement, you scooped up Jack as the man with a badge of the law spoke to Arthur.

Jack seemed confused as you walked away with him, your mind running with whatever would come out to distract him until you got out of earshot.

"Listen, I know I'm an O'Driscoll, but how 'bout we set our differences aside for a moment?" You ask softly, listening the best you could to the man as the distance silenced him. "Could you teach me how to make one of those necklaces?"

Jack contemplated you as he slowly slid out of your arms, your muscles ready to cramp. "Okay. But who are those men?"

You weren't even sure yourself, quite honestly. Whistling your horse over from where she stood grazing. "No one to worry about." You assured in the most comforting tone you could manage.

Now tagging along just for clean guns wasn't a bad idea, after all. You liked the boy, and avoiding any unnecessary trauma inflicted on him was the least you could do.

-

Arthur spread a gob of leather conditioner over your saddle that sat over his lap as you both sat at the table together.

You eyed him every so often. Occasionally, he did too, both making eye contact for a few moments. His eyes burned, and so did his pride.

The soup you ate while sitting in pensive silence with Arthur tasted even better while you watched him run the rag across your saddle.

If he hadn't made you chop so much wood yesterday, then youd've been sure to make him do some too, but as of right now, only splinters and small chunks of wood sat left.

Every time his eyes met yours, you gave him a content grin, which seemed to only peeve him off more.

"There'll be a time where I wipe that smile off your face." He growls at you from across the table. His movements with the rag getting more rough in his frustration with you. "Why are you sitting here, anways? I've seen enough of you for a day."

You stared at him for a moment before deciding to finish your soup, not bothering to retort first. "You remember when we were fishing just earlier?" You pointed your spoon at him all accusatory, sly, and teasing.

"Yes? I dont forget that fast." Then his anger fell, his head slowly turning to meet your look. His eyes squinted, and his lips pressed together when he realized where you were going with this. "Dont even start."

A slow chuckle started out of you as he tried to cease the progression of something worse with just a glare. "Was I actually holding that rod wrong?" You weren't direct. You wanted to see if he had an explanation.

"It's hard to hold something so simple wrong, yet you still did it."

Now you were confused, coming to a stand and traipsing over to his side, replaying your stance with an imaginary rod for a second. "You're right about the first part. But I wasn't holding it not normal?"

He looked up at you from under his hat, the darkness setting over the land making it harder to see his eyes.

"I think you just wanted an excuse." The crack at your lips grew with each time you teased without any specifics. He knew exactly what you were on about.

"Oh, for what?" His hand relaxed on the rag, now his full attention solely on you.

"Not even being an O'Driscoll seems to matter anymore." You acted all vaunt, but in truth, you weren't completely dead positive yet.

He raised his head up more to see you better underneath his worn hat. Your teasing didn't seem to completely anger him now, a sarcastic tug at his lips revealed itself. "Felt bad for the only lady who doesn't know how to fish proper."

You hissed out a small laugh, one that acknowledged him, but not one of letting him have the last laugh. "Maybe you felt bad for shooting me, so you gave me your best interpretation of a warm embrace."

That earned you a sharp chuckle, scoffing at your counter. "Save your nonsense for when we get our drinks."

"Then you best save your speakin' in general for that, Morgan." Shaking your head, you step up close to see the progress on your saddle.

"Sure, princess." He turned his head down and away to hide his face under the cover of his hats brim, the rag in his hand returning to its work.

You studied him sitting in front of you, thinking of anything that might annoy him more.

Your hand met his cheek, guiding his face to look back up at you. Not a peep or resistance from him, just sturdy and stern eye contact.

"You missed a spot." Pointing with your other hand to a small area in the dim candle light from the table.

Now his face felt warm, wether in reaction to your first gesture or anger at your words, you didn't know.

Your hand left his face, pushing down his hat over his face as you turned to leave. "When you're done, I'll have found something more for you to do."

---

The scene with Jack is not alluding to a pregnancy trope, I promise 🤞