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zxxccx · 20 days

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My Roommate's Manipulative Friend

This is a work of fiction. All characters are 18+. Contains male fart fetish content. This is my first story so I hope you enjoy it 🙂

My name is Jeff. One day during junior year of college, I was chilling in my off-campus apartment with my roommate Evan and his friend Matt. I've known Evan since freshman year and we're pretty close. Evan and Matt are childhood friends who grew up and went to high school together. They were both typical surfer/skater bros. I had only met Matt a few times before - his college was kind of far from ours, so he and Evan don't get to hang out as much as they used to. Even though we barely knew each other, I got the sense that he didn't really like me and if we're being honest, the feeling was mutual. On this particular day, there wasn't much going on and we were all pretty bored. Like typical millennials, we were all sitting there separately scrolling on our phones. All of the sudden Matt started chuckling so Evan and I looked up.

E: "What's so funny?”

M: "I was reading through this site that lists random world records and it turns out this guy Bernard Clemens has the record for world's longest fart at 2 minutes and 42 second."

E: "Pfft, I could beat that."

They cracked up. I rolled my eyes and apparently Matt didn't appreciate that.

M: "What's your problem?"

E: "Ignore him, he doesn't think farts are funny."

M: "Are you serious? Farts are fucking hilarious!"

E: "I tried to tell him that, but he's a total prude. I've never even farted in front of him before because I don't want to hear him complain. I just hold in my gas and let it out when he's not around."

M: "That sucks, no man should have to hold in his gas. Everyone should rip loud and proud! One time I even farted in Evan's face."

J: "Gross! Did you puke?"

They both laughed.

E: "Puke? It was only a fart. I swung around and blasted him right back. Don't dish it out if you can't take it."

M: "Ya know Jeff, I'd be happy give you some exposure therapy to help you appreciate farts more."

J: "No thanks. Can we please talk about something else?"

I could tell Matt was enjoying having fun at my expense, but fortunately he relented and changed the subject. He announced that he was starving and that we should all grab food. Evan immediately agreed, but I really wasn't hungry. I was also feeling kind of tired, so I decided to stay back and take a nap.

...

I woke up and felt like something was off. I tried to move and freaked out when I realized I couldn't. I opened my eyes and saw Evan and Matt staring down at me with huge grins. I tried to say something but I couldn't because there was tape over my mouth.

M: "Heyyyyyy. Enjoy your nap?"

E: "I can't, this is too good."

I took a moment to take in my current position. I was laid out with my head on a couch cushion and my lower body being supported by the coffee table. My legs were taped together and my arms were taped to my side. Again, I tried to protest but was only able to produce muffled sounds.

M: "We got a real treat in store for you. Ya see, I've been thinking more about what Evan said earlier about being able to beat the world record farter and thought it would be fun put his gas to the test. The Taco Bell we had for lunch should be more than enough to fuel this challenge, but I figure we need a judge to make sure it's fair and think your virgin nostrils make you the perfect candidate for the job."

Matt had the biggest grin I've ever seen. I felt annoyed that Evan would go along with this idea, but wasn't entirely surprised. While I know Evan didn't actually care about some dumb world record (I think the three of us all knew that it likely wasn't even possible), he's a really competitive guy who's not one to shy away from a challenge. I'm sure Evan only said he could beat the record earlier as a joke, but that was exactly the fodder Matt needed to take advantage of his competitive nature and turn it against me. Evan and I also never pass up on an opportunity to have a little fun at each other's expense, so I'm sure that only made him easier to manipulate in this case.

M: "Now Evan, to confirm, you've never even so much as farted in the same room as Jeff before, right?"

E: "That is correct."

M: "Wow, so that means his first experience with your gas is gonna point-blank. That's rough. As someone who's been blasted by you before, I can say even at a distance it absolutely reeked. I can't imagine how much worse it'll be at ground zero. Let's just say I'm really glad I'm not in his position."

E: "Yeah this is probably gonna be pretty bad. Honestly, I was a bit hesitant to go through with this. I mean farts are funny, but this is taking things to a whole new level. Does anyone really deserve to be subjected to something this disgusting? I wasn't so sure, but then Matt pointed out that this is only a prank and it's all in good fun. Who knows, it might even help you lighten up a bit. And if you think about it, this really is the opportunity of a lifetime for you. I've farted at people several times before, but I've never fully sat on someone's face and let rip. You're gonna get to fully experience my gas in a way that no one has before and possibly never will again. And of all the people who could possibly receive that honor, I'm kind of glad it's you."

Evan looked down at me with an amused smirk. I knew he was mostly just messing with me, but I couldn't believe how far he and Matt were taking this. Knowing that I was gonna be the first person to "fully experience" his gas and that he was glad about it only increased my frustration.

M: "Alright, enough chit chat. Let's get to it. Evan, your throne awaits!"

Matt motioned towards my face. I knew this was my last chance to put a stop to this. If only I could speak, I was confident I'd be able to talk Evan out of this. Unfortunately, I didn't have that luxury. I put up as much of a fight as I could and let out as many muffled please as possible, but they fell on deaf ears. Evan spun around and hovered his ass above my face. Then slowly and tauntingly, he began to sit down. To add insult to injury, he made sure to maintain eye contact with me until he was fully seated and his board short clad ass completely covered my face, enveloping it in warmth.

E: "Wow, he's actually kind of comfy."

He wiggled a little which caused my nose to sink further into his ass and settle right below his asshole. I can't believe my best friend was actually sitting on my face.

M: "This is so awesome! I can't believe we're actually doing this!"

They both laughed. I could feel Evan's body shake when he laughed. I had been holding my breath up until this point but my lungs felt like the were going to give out so I reluctantly gave in and took a breath. Fortunately, Evan's a pretty hygienic guy so it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be, but it still smelled like ass and wasn't exactly pleasant.

E: "Whoa, that felt weird?"

M: "What?"

E: "He just sniffed my ass."

M: "Nice, bet he's loving it! Got any gas in the tank?"

E: "Yeah, feels like the Taco Bell is fully kicking in so I think I'm ready to let rip."

M: "Do it. Blast him!"

I felt Evan start to bear down and push. I braced myself and wondered what I did to deserve this.

PPPPRPTRPTPRPTRPP

The fart vibrated across my face. I felt Evan let out a sigh and relax. I was afraid to breathe.

M: "Is he sniffing?"

E: "Nah, feels like he's holding his breath."

M: "That's no fun, we'll have to fix that."

Before I had time to process what Matt meant by that, he abruptly pushed down hard on my chest forcing the air out of my lungs through my nose. I was furious at him, but it was short lived. My body involuntary took in air to refill my lungs and, as soon as I took in my first breath of Evan's gas, my mind went blank. I had never smelled something so bad in my life and my body was having trouble processing it. Raw sewage would be jealous of the smell. I gave up on holding my breath and started struggling in my bonds in an attempt to try to get away from Evan's ass, but my struggles were in vain. Of course, Evan and Matt found this hilarious.

M: "I don't think he appreciates the stench of your special brew."

E: "Yeah he really seems to be struggling with it."

M: "I guess that means there's only one thing to do..."

E: "Way ahead of you!"

PPPPRTPRTPRPTRPTRPPPPPP

This one was louder and longer. It felt like my skull was rattling. How could they think this was funny? How could Evan do this to me? It felt like the stench of his gas was fully consuming me. I couldn't imagine how this could get any worse, but apparently Matt had other ideas.

M: "Is it just me, or does it feel like he's not fully appreciating your farts?"

E: "What do you mean? You can't possibly expect him to enjoy this."

M: "Maybe not. I just think that since you worked up all this gas for him, he should really be savoring it. None of this holding his breath business or taking shallow breaths to avoid it."

E: "How could we possibly get him to savor my farts?"

M: "Well...what if I tickle him? Then you can blast him and he'll have no choice but to literally huff your gas."

I was surprised not to hear Evan immediately reject this idea. Instead, it seemed like he was actually considering it. I started to aggressively protest, hoping that I could get through to Evan and make him see that this was crazy. However, evidently he couldn't pass up on an opportunity to mess with me more and decided to intentionally misinterpret my pleas.

E: "I appreciate you weighing in Jeff. I was going to say that you had enough and that we should let you go. But it sounds like you're begging us to go ahead with Matt's idea. Don't you agree Matt?"

M: "Oh yeah, it sounds like he's saying that he really wants to get aquatinted with your gas."

E: "Kind of weird Jeff, but if that's what you want we can definitely do that for you. Just know, that if we do this I'm not gonna hold back at all."

I struggled and screamed as much as I could in order to try to let them know I wasn't okay with this. It was no use though. They were clearly enjoying this too much.

E: "Okay, but remember you asked for this..."

Thus began one of the worst experiences of my life. True to his word, Evan did not hold back. He let out a constant barrage of farts and it felt like each one smelled worse than the last. Thanks to Matt's relentless tickling attack on my feet, I was forced to sniff pretty much all of Evan's gas. And, of course, throughout the entire ordeal my face stayed firmly planted in Evan's ass with my nose right at the source. I felt like my brain was melting. Evan's gas was all I could think of - I couldn't fully comprehend just how much of it I had inhaled. I started to forget that fresh air was even a thing. Finally, after what seemed like hours (but realistically was probably only 10 minutes), there was a light at the end of the tunnel.

E: "Alright, that was pretty funny but I think he's had enough."

M: "Aww, come on man this is too good. We could keep this up forever and he wouldn't be able to do anything to stop us.”

E: "Nah, enough is enough. After all, we don't want to permanently destroy his nose."

Evan laughed at his joke, but after what I had been through I wasn't sure if my nose would ever be the same again. If nothing else, I was definitely a lot more familiar with my best friend’s gas than I ever wanted to be. Evan went to get up, but Matt stopped him.

M: "Okay fine, we can call it quits, but one more thing first. Do you still have any gas left in the tank?"

E: "Yeah...but I really think we should let him up now. He's been down there for a while and this was just supposed to be a prank, not actual torture."

Note to self: Evan and I have very different definitions of what constitutes torture.

M: "Totally fair. We can definitely let him up in a minute, I just think we need a grand finale to help seal the deal and ensure this experience is something he'll never forget."

If I could talk, I would say that we're already wayyyyy past that point, but unfortunately fate prevented me from being the voice of reason. Also, couldn't they have this conversation with Evan standing up? Why was he still sitting on my face? Yeah he wasn't currently farting, but I was still being forced to sniff the remnants of his previous farts that had absorbed into his clothes. And he just said he's still feeling gassy, so I was anxious to get him off of me before anymore of his gas found it's way into my nose. Especially since it sounded like Matt was scheming again...

M: "As a final salvo, I think he should have to sniff a couple unfiltered farts from you."

E: "What do you mean?"

M: "I mean full on bareass. No board shorts and no boxers."

My heart skipped a beat. I can't believe Matt would come up with something so disturbing. There must be something genuinely wrong with him. I was about to freak out again, but then it dawned on me. There's no way Evan would go through with this. Sure he's not shy about things like burps and farts, but he's super reserved when it comes to his body. He won't even walk around the apartment in a towel - he always changes in the bathroom when he showers to avoid any accidental exposure. Same when we go to the campus pool, he puts on his bathing suit before we leave to avoid changing in the locker room. There's no way he'd feel comfortable showing off his bare ass. I was about to get in my first win against Matt. The excitement from that realization almost made up for what I just went through. Ok, it actually wasn't even close, but I was still happy about this small victory I was about to be handed.

E: "Ew, no way man! You know I don't like exposing myself and besides shoving his face in my bare ass seems super unsanitary."

M: "Aww come on! It would only be for a few a seconds. One and done!"

E: "I said no! Stop trying to push me man!"

M: "Wow okay. Guess Jeff's not the only one here who's a prude."

E: "You can't be serious. I just ripped ass all over his face. I'm still sitting on his face as we speak. How can you even say I'm a prude?"

M: "Because you're too afraid to reveal your bare ass for a second just for a prank. Haven't you ever heard of mooning? People do it all the time!"

E: "Why are you pushing so hard on this?"

This argument was music to my ears. I could tell Evan was getting pretty frustrated. Now if only he would stand up...

M: "Look man. You need to remember the main reason we're doing this. Yeah it's really funny, but the whole point is to help Jeff lighten up and break barriers. Before today, he wouldn't dream of putting his face anywhere near someone's ass, but now you've been sitting on it for almost a full half hour. Before today, you couldn't even fart near him and now he's literally huffed your gas directly from the source. If he takes some bareass farts from you, think of how high that would set his tolerance. You'd really be doing him a favor."

E: "I don't know. That all sounds pretty stupid."

I'm not sure where Matt was getting this twisted logic from, but Evan didn't sound as frustrated as he did a moment ago. Was this actually working? There's no way...

M: "It at least makes a little bit of sense. If you get it over with real quick, then it will be done and I'll stop nagging you about it. Come on man! Do it, you won't!"

My heart sank. I can't believe Matt went there. As I said, Evan's not one to back down from a challenge. The phrase "Do it, you won't" is like his kryptonite. I've used it on him plenty of times. He almost always follows through just to prove that he's not a wimp and can do the thing in question. But surely this was a bridge too far, right? After a bit of hesitation, I got my answer...

E: ".......Fine. Okay, I'll do it. But you have to look away and Jeff has to close his eyes. He may have to smell my ass, but that doesn't mean either of you have to see me naked."

M: "Really dude? You're not gonna be naked. It's just gonna be your ass."

E: "You want me to do this, we're gonna do it on my terms."

M: "Alright, fair enough. Let's do it."

I started to struggle and complain again, but Matt wasn't having it.

M: "Enough! I'm tired of your whining. We're doing this and there's nothing you can do about it. So just shut up and take it."

Evan finally stood up, but I knew this ordeal wasn't over yet. He put his hands on the waist of his board shorts.

E: "Okay, Jeff close your eyes and Matt turn around."

Evan looked at us to ensure we complied. I saw Matt turn around. I figured if I kept my eyes open, maybe he wouldn't go through with it.

E: "Come on, close your eyes so we can get this over with."

M: "Jeff if you're gonna be a dick about this and make Evan uncomfortable, then we'll just have him keep his clothes on, sit on your face, and blast you for the rest of the day. Is that what you want?"

Wow, as if I'm somehow the one in the wrong here. But that's definitely not what I wanted. I also didn't want me face shoved in his bare ass though. Still, I wanted this to be over as fast as possible and avoid prolonging it, so I reluctantly complied. I started to brace myself for what was about to happen, but Matt had other plans. All of the sudden, I felt fingers on each of my eyelids and my eyes were pried open. He gave me a look that told me I'd regret it if I said anything so I remained quiet. Unlike the first time Evan sat on my face, he didn't look back at me this time. I guess he was a little embarrassed by what he was about to do and didn't want to see my face. This meant that he was completely unaware of Matt's latest scheme. Interestingly enough, even though he was holding my eyes open, Matt continued facing away from Evan. I guess even though he was determined to make sure I got to see Evan's ass in all its glory, he had no desire to see it himself. Without any fanfare, Evan slowly lowered the back of his board shorts and boxers, and there it was: his bare ass. He definitely had quite the bubble butt. Aside from a thin layer of fuzz, his ass was mostly hairless.

M: "Don't forget to spread your cheeks so you can get him in their nice and deep."

Evan complied. His crack was slightly hairier than his cheeks and his asshole was now staring back at me. Then, he started to sit down. This seemed impossible on today of all days, but I really felt that I had sunk to a new low. When Matt heard Evan start to sit, he removed his fingers from my eyelids. I closed my eyes but the damage was done. I couldn't believe I'd been forced to see my best friend's ass and asshole against both our wills. The image would be forever burned into my brain and no one could take this moment back for me. I was temporarily distracted though when I felt Evan settle onto my face. He let go of his cheeks and they closed around mine. My nose was touching his asshole.

E: "I don't like this. I can feel his nose touching my hole."

M: "Bet it's not great on his end either. Jeff, do me a favor and take a nice big sniff of Evan's asshole."

I told him that wasn't gonna happen as best I could through the gag. He seemed to get the message.

M: "Do it or I'll press down on Evan's shoulders and send you even deeper into his ass."

I definitely didn't want that to happen. My nose was already touching his asshole, I didn't need to be any deeper. So, I gave in and took a big sniff. The minute I did, I regretted it. Unsurprisingly, it smelled like shit. I started gagging and struggling. Matt laughed.

M: "Yeah, I bet it smells pretty bad down there. Sucks to be you!"

E: "Could we get this over with already?"

M: "Ok yeah, sure. Now Jeff, here's how this is gonna work. You're gonna breathe out fully and then I'm gonna count backwards from five. When I get to one, Evan's gonna let rip and you're gonna start inhaling as hard as you can. And you better keep inhaling for the full duration of the fart. And before you start freaking out again, you should know that I took some pics of Evan sitting on your face before when he still had his clothes on. If you refuse to do this, I will post those pics online and tell everyone you begged to sniff Evan's farts. Evan will back me up, so no one will believe you if you try to say I'm lying. Right Evan?”

I tried to plead with Evan as best I could.

E: “Sorry Jeff. I feel like this is super weird for both of us, but you're just gonna have to do it. You’ve made me do some gross things in the past - remember when you dared me to eat that box of freeze dried crickets? Think of this as payback for that. I know it's not fully equivalent, but we all have to do things we don't wanna do from time to time. Besides, I have a real whopper brewing right now and I kind of want you to take it.”

M: “Then it's settled. Deep breath out Jeff.”

Feeling like I had no other choice, I did what I was told.

M: “Ok, ready? Breathe in on one. 5…4…3…2…1…”

PRBTPPPTBTPPRTBTPBTRPPBTssssssssss

Evan was right. This one was a whopper. I felt his asshole vibrating against my nose. I lost count of how long it lasted…but I do know it ended with a silent his. And I inhaled the whole thing. As soon as I finished inhaling, my body started shaking. This was by far the worst thing I had ever experienced. I felt defiled. Matt was besides himself with laughter and even Evan was cracking up a bit.

M: “Dude that was sick! I can't believe he just huffed a fart out of your bare asshole.”

E: “Yeah that was definitely disgusting. Are we done now?”

M: “One more and then we let him up. Sound good?”

E: “Fineeeee.”

I was numb at this point and just ready for this whole thing to be over. What's one more fart? It's not like it can be any worse than anything I'd already endured. Unfortunately, I spoke to soon. I should have known better than to tempt fate. This time, when Evan farted, we both got more than we bargained for and I felt a little something squirt out onto my nose. That's right, this last fart was wet. That was the straw that broke the camel's back. I was done. I immediately started convulsing and going back and forth between screaming and gagging. Evan immediately realized what happened too. He jumped up, pulled up his shorts and boxers to cover his ass, and ran to the bathroom. Matt turned around and looked confused. He called out to Evan in the bathroom.

M: “What happened?”

E: “I accidentally sharted…”

M: “You sharted on his nose? That's the best thing I ever heard!”

Evan returned from the bathroom.

E: “Seriously dude? I can't believe that happened.”

M: “Are you sure it was a shart?”

E: “Dude, I'm telling you that fart was wet.”

M: “I know, but look at his face. There's nothing on his nose. It's not brown.”

E: “Really? That's odd, when I went to clean up in the bathroom, the toilet paper was clean too…”

M: “Damn, that means it wasn't a shart then, just a wet fart. Probably just sweat or generic ass juice.”

E: “Well that's a relief!”

M: “Yeah I guess…”

E: “Why do you sound disappointed? You actually would have preferred if I did shart on him?”

M: “Yeah man. That would have been fucking hilarious! Icing on the cake.”

E: “You're sick man! Whatever let's just get this tape off him. This has gone far enough!”

Right as Evan was about to start untaping me, his phone vibrated.

E: “Damn it! I totally forgot that I committed to meeting my lab partner today to finish our physics lab.”

M: “Can't it wait?”

E: “I wish, but today's the only day we both have free to work on it before it's due. Sorry to do this to you guys, but I really need to get this done. Can you take care of freeing him?”

M: “Yeah sure!”

E: “Ok cool. Thanks for being such a good sport Jeff. Once you're out you can get cleaned up and then we can hang later and put this whole thing behind us. I'll be back in a few hours.”

And with that Evan left and I was alone with Matt.

M: “Well I think we both know I have no intention of letting you go now that Evan's gone. Not when your face looks so comfy. Plus, I ate Taco Bell too and haven't had a chance to release my gas.”

I tried to tell him off but it wasn't very effective.

M: “Thanks for reminding me. We need to do something about your gag. Your pathetic complaining is getting annoying.”

Matt walked away and came back later with something in his hand.

M: “Earlier when we decided to gag you, I wanted to stuff something in your mouth. Evan thought that was too far so we just used tape and left your mouth empty. But…Evan's not here now and I think I found the perfect thing. This sock was buried in Evan's hamper and smells pretty gnarly. Here take a whiff.”

He turned it inside out and pressed it against my nose. I hesitantly took a whiff and it smelled awful - like old cheese. Matt was very amused by my reaction.

M: “Yeah it's pretty bad isn't it. Bet it tastes worse…”

With that he ripped the tape off my mouth and I breathed through my mouth for the first time in ages. I knew I had to reason with him.”

J: “Please Matt, can't you just let me go? Haven't I suffered enough?”

M: “No chance! I'm not gonna waste this prime opportunity.”

J: “But…why? Why are you doing this to me?”

M: “Because I can. And because it's fucking funny. Now enough talking, open wide and get ready to taste Evan's gross sock!”

I clamped my mouth shut but Matt was unphased. He simply pinched my nostrils shut. Soon my need for air overcame me and I had to open my mouth to breathe. As soon as that happened, Matt shoved the inside-out sock in my mouth and taped it shut again. Evan's sock tasted awful. This was the worst! In one day I not only got more acquainted with his ass than I ever could have imagined but I also learned what his foot tastes like. I'm not sure I'll ever be able to look at him the same way again.

M: “Yeah suck on that sock. I bet it tastes awful! Now that that's taken care of, it's time to get down to business. I'm not as nice as Evan, so I hope you're ready for a rough ride.”

Without any further ado, Matt pulled down the back of his board shorts and boxers and slammed his bare ass onto my face. He spread his cheeks and wiggled around to get me as deep as possible. My nose actually slipped inside his asshole. The smell was unbearable. His ass was hairier than Evan's and smelled stronger too.

M: “Perfect. Got you right where I want you. The Taco Bell is hitting hard, so you're in for a good time!”

He started farting nonstop. I was in hell. This torture went on for so long that I lost track of time. Apparently Matt did too, because when Evan got back a few hours later, Matt was still sitting on my face. Evan was pissed and they got into a heated argument. Evan let me go and I slinked away and took the longest shower of my life.

After I got out, Evan apologized profusely to me. He said he knows they took things too far and that if I was willing to forgive him, he'd never do anything like this again and go back to holding in his farts around me. Today aside, Evan was genuinely a good friend and I knew this whole thing was mostly Matt's fault. So, I decided to forgive him. I also told him that he didn't have to hold in his gas around me anymore. After what I went through today, I could tolerate the occasional fart here and there as long as my face was nowhere near his ass when it happened.

I asked where Matt was and apparently he decided to go back to his dorm after their argument. Him and Evan did eventually make up, but he never apologized for what he put me through. I was happy to have things relatively go back to normal with Evan though. Sure I noticed his ass a lot more than I used to. And anytime he did fart, the smell brought back flashbacks of this awful day. But the worst was behind me now…or so I thought. Turns out that Matt wasn't done with me. He had gotten a taste of using Evan to torture me and was hungry for more. I didn't know it now, but Matt was going to make sure that I was more familiar with my best friend's body than any one person should be. If I thought Evan's farts were bad, I had another thing coming…

#fart story #male farts #farts #male domination

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twola · 3 months

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Passerine : Chapter 4

PAIRING: High Honor Arthur Morgan x Fem!reader

Green-scarved attackers leave you and Arthur in a precarious place - forced to address the impasse between you.

Warnings: This fic has graphic descriptions of non-consensual sex, violence against women, the trauma thereafter, and somewhat unhealthy coping mechanisms. If any of that content makes you feel uncomfortable or triggers you, this may not be the fic for you.

Told you it wouldn't be a year between updates :)

But seriously - I love hearing from you guys - that really helped push me to get this out more timely.

➵ AO3 Link ➵ Fic Masterlist ➵ Previous | ➵ Next

You wipe your brow against the heat. If you thought Clemens was hot, Shady Belle was goddamn sweltering. The nape of your neck was never dry, and the ends of your hair curled around your face from the humidity.

“Hey there.”

You look up from the tub of dishes you were scrubbing behind Pearson’s wagon. Susan has finally given you some leeway, and the tub was dragged to a shady spot to give you at least a little bit of a reprieve from the heat.

But not much.

“Hey.”

Arthur stands in front of you, heaving a heavy sack of corn off his shoulder to the dirt below. He grunts slightly, circling his shoulder, before righting his hat and moving closer into your personal space.

“How’re you feelin’ this morning?” He asks, dipping his hands into the water quickly and shaking the wetness from his fingers. He stuffs his hand into his satchel and grabs his worn leather riding gloves, pulling them on.

“Same as yesterday. Hot and fat.” You respond, sighing as you roll your shoulders with a near-imperceptible wince. Your gaze settles on the tub of dirty dishes in front of you.

That gets a small smile out of him. A silence settles between the two of you as he wriggles his fingers on one hand, the leather sticking and whining with each stretch of his digits.

“How’s your shoulder?” You nod up to him, still not making eye contact.

“Feelin’ fine, you ain’t gotta worry about me.” He nods, intently staring at the soapy water in front of you.

You frown before looking back in the tub as well.

It’s a strange space you’re in right now. Your stomach is swollen up and your back starting to sway. You still had a couple of months before the child’s arrival. You’ve had to shed your layers even further from Clemens, where an old cotton shift is nearly all you can fit in at this point. Tilly and Mary Beth were working on a few dresses for you, but they weren’t done yet.

“You was up early.” He says, searching for words to continue the conversation - unfortunately, it wasn’t going well.

“Ain’t sleeping much these days.”

Arthur simply murmurs in response.

Up in the room of that old plantation house, Arthur’s bedroll remains on the floor, to which you complained, but he would hear none of you sleeping on the ground in your condition.

Sharing a bed was never brought up. It was a canyon between the two of you - the more your belly grew, the more you withdrew from him. You didn’t talk about it. About the baby. About the future. Arthur was unfortunately relegated to watch you grow and not address any of it. He didn’t know what to do - were you going to stay this way until the day you gave birth?

“I’m sure Abigail is grateful to John and you and Dutch for bringing Jack back.” You whisper quietly, looking at the boy running around the old abandoned fountain, an unfortunate breeding pit for mosquitos.

“Maybe John will step up after this.” Arthur eyes the shadow behind Jack.

John sits in the decrepit gazebo, carving what looks like a child’s toy in his hand. It was comical in some ways, fearsome looking, scarred John, working on a toy for his son. Finally, after so long, it seems that he is starting to acknowledge the poor boy - having gone through some kind of terror when he was taken.

He and Abigail hadn’t yelled at each other in a day - there’s a secret wager among the girls about how long it is that is going to last.

Karen bet the high end, having kept the knowledge that Abigail was in John’s room this morning to herself.

You breathe out heavily through your knows and let a low groan out, one hand on your lower back swayed under the weight of the child growing within.

He wants to reach out and touch you. He almost does, for a moment, spread his hand out over your belly, to try and feel for movement. He wants to pull your chemise up and press against your bare skin. He wants to worship your changing body.

But every time he tries to bring up the baby, you shut down. That darkness under your eyes returns. This chasm widens.

He steps one step closer, his hand moving to his gun belt, as was apt to happen in times of discomfort.

“Y’ want to go into town? I’ll take you.”

Your eyes move back to the dishes, and you fish the next dirty one from the tub.

“Not really. I’m fine.”

Arthur frowns but acquiesces. He bids you a good day before heading out to the hitching post, off to head back into town to meet Trelawney to discuss the next job.

Your spry gelding has been woefully neglected, you being unable to ride the way you want. He stands bored amongst the other horses, listless while you can’t give him a good run.

“Kieran.”

The poor boy almost drops his coffee, fear alight in his eyes for a moment. “Y-yes ma’am? Does Mr. Morgan need anythin’?”

“What, Arthur? No. I’m asking for a favor.”

“O-oh! Of course! What d’ya need?”

“It’s been a while since my boy’s had a hard ride… obviously I can’t-” you motion to your abdomen.

“Oh, oh! A-absolutely. I can take ‘im out for a ride.”

“Well I was wondering if I could come along… maybe just to get out of camp and watch you run him in the field. I’m so bored here.” You sigh.

“You sure that Arthur ain’t gonna come after us?” Kieran asks concernedly.

“I’m sure it ain’t any of Arthur’s business. Besides, it won’t be like we’re going far. Maybe on the other side of that old battlefield near the Braithewaite’s land. Plenty of room out there.” You scowl, offended that Kieran insinuated you needed Arthur’s permission to function. God, you were pregnant, not an invalid.

Kieran looks hurriedly to the ground before quickly shuffling over toward your horse, who finally picks up his head and whinnies excitedly as his reins are untied from the hitching post.

You follow, smiling and brushing down your horse’s mane, whispering sweet affections to him as Kieran adjusts the saddle. After a few moments, he steps back to allow you to get yourself up on the horse.

Okay, maybe you were a bit invalid right now.

“Uh, can you… help me a bit?”

Kieran blazes red for a moment before nodding, awkwardly placing his hands on your waist and helping heave you up on the horse’s rump. He climbs into the saddle and meekly leads the two of you toward the old battlefield and the road toward Braithwaite Manor.

After a slow, hot walk to the open meadow, the two of you finally reach it. He quietly helps you slide off the horse’s rump and into the long grass of the meadow, where you take a few steps to stand under the shade of a tree.

Kieran then digs his spurs into your gelding’s side and the horse bolts, rearing before galloping off through the meadow. You lean against the tree, idly rubbing your hand over your growing stomach as you watch Kieran ride your horse hard, getting a good run out of him. It’s a good half hour of circling the meadow at various speeds before they slowly plod back to you.

“Ah, there’s my boy!” You pat his mane affectionately as your gelding pants, satisfied. Kieran leans on the pommel with one arm, smiling for once.

“He’s a good boy. I can make sure I take ‘im out every couple days for a run-” The man frowns slightly again, “with your permission, of course, ma’am.”

You nearly roll your eyes at him.

“First, you’re doin’ me a favor, stop calling me ma’am. Second-”

A gunshot cracks far too close to you and your gelding rears, screeching as Kieran tries to calm him. You’ve stumbled back a few steps, clutching at your belly with one hand.

“Kieran Duffy, you’re a goddamn dead man!”

Cold steel is pressed between your shoulder blades and your stomach drops to your feet.

One, two, three, four armed men encircle you and Kieran, who hushes your gelding. For a moment, his hand hovers over the gun on his hip, but you groan in pain as the barrel of a repeater digs into your back. A large hand clamps down on your arm roughly.

Two men muscle their way over to your horse and proceed to drag Kieran down from him, his face slamming against the red Lemoyne dirt. The men start to kick at the adopted Van der Linde, and the unfortunate man tries to curl up in a fetal position but it is of no help. His gasps and moans of pain start to fill the air, overpowering the cicadas in the humid afternoon.

You just stare at the green scarves around their necks and bite your lip hard enough to make yourself bleed.

“C’mon, Colm’s waiting.”

The ropes chafe around your wrists as the O’Driscoll pushes you forward. You try your damndest not to stumble, and it is some small mercy that your wrists are bound in front of you as compared to behind you. Your dress, the old short-sleeved shift, is now dirty beyond any salvation and covered in horse hair and mud. Your captors were kind enough to place you on a horse sitting up, as compared to slinging you over the horse’s rump as they did to Kieran.

“This boy you’re associating with here… he’s done some real wrongs against us. Gotta assume that you have too if you’re with him.” The man grabs your chin roughly, forcing you to look at him.

A few hours of riding later, you’re out of the swamps before the men stop, guiding their horses off the northward road and into a small wooded glade as the hills start to rise. You vaguely recognize the area - it's not too far from Clemens, near the state line with New Hanover. The four men that found you had a campsite set up just off the road.

Kieran tries to muscle in between you and the O’Driscoll, his hands bound behind him, bruises blooming bright across his face.

“She ain’t got nothin to -”

Kieran’s plea is cut short with the sickening wet sound of blood bursting from his nose as the butt of a revolver whips across his face. He crumbles to the ground as you gasp. You stoop down to try to reach him, and as he rolls into a seated position, the blood from his face drips all over your dress as he coughs. You try to stymie the blood with the hem of your skirt but with your wrists bound, you just end up getting it all over yourself and him.

“Pretty sure I didn’t ask you, y’dumb sack of shit.”

Kieran gets yanked away from you, whimpering, and dragged further from the campfire back toward the woodline by two of the other men, rough and tumble and dirty. You’re pulled up roughly by your arm as your captor sizes you up. He pauses as you recapture your balance.

“You-you're that girl from up in Cumberland that ol’ Donal dragged back in-” The O’Driscoll sneers with recognition, “Said your cunny was one of the tightest one’s he’d plowed-”

You recoil in revulsion, a physical reaction to the man’s reference to your assault. His coy and callous words about the rape that haunts you each and every day. The man’s eyes dart down to your abdomen, and your hands shoot up to cover it as if to hide your pregnancy from him.

“You got a damn O’Driscoll in your belly!” He howls in laughter, pointing at the child that grows within you.

Something deep and ancient and animalistic within you snaps like a leather whip. Suddenly this child in your belly wasn’t a burden. Suddenly the circumstances of its beginning didn’t matter. Suddenly, this raggedy outlaw in front of you was threatening your child. You scowl, your hands protectively over your stomach, the child agitated within, kicking at you as your blood rises. Righteous anger, for the first time since your ordeal, courses through your veins.

“My baby ain't no O’Driscoll,” You hiss, your bound hands clenching in rage, “This baby is Arthur Morgan’s - ‘nd he’s gonna come and skin you alive.”

The hot anger sizzling through your blood, you know, would match Arthur’s. You can see, in your mind’s eye, your lover coming in, guns blazing, ready to tear anyone who threatens you and your child limb from limb.

A flash of something crosses the O’Driscoll’s face. Maybe fear, maybe recognition. His haughty smirk falls. Annoyed, he yanks you forward and forces you to your knees as you yell obscenities at him. Your hands are then bound behind you and the ropes threaded through the spokes of the wagon wheel you are forced to sit against.

The soft crackles of the fire ten feet away and the chirp of the crickets are foreboding in your gut - and for good reason.

Kieran’s screams echo through the night and are a sound you will never forget.

“What do you mean you haven’t seen her? How th’ hell do you lose a pregnant woman?” Arthur stomps through the front door of the plantation house with Sadie trailing behind.

“I ain't babysittin’ her Arthur - I’m just sayin’ I haven't seen her since this mornin’.”

“Arthur-” Dutch calls from the stairs, “Come up here, son - we have to talk. Missus Adler, will you excuse us?”

Arthur lets out a long breath through his nose. “Comin’-” he yells up to Dutch, and turns to Sadie, “Will you go find her? She’s been a goddamn hellcat with how angry gets nowadays.”

Sadie rolls her eyes, “Gosh Arthur, I wonder why.”

Arthur waves his hand at Sadie dismissively as he bounds up the stairs, taking them two at a time. He moves through the room where Dutch has stored his gramophone and the camp funds to find the older man out on the balcony.

Dutch smokes a cigar, looking out on the decrepit fountain in the front of the manor below. He holds another one in his fingers, offering it to Arthur as he comes closer. Arthur grunts and takes the cigar, pulling a box of matches out of his satchel with the other hand.

Dutch motions toward the skyline of Saint Denis in the distance, barely visible over the cypress trees in the swamp. “Now… the trolley bus station…” The cigar’s end glows red between his fingers, “I went down there… I took a look at it… I think we can hit it.”

Arthur raises an eyebrow as he lights his cigar, puffing it to get it lit before holding it between his fingers, “I ain’t never robbed in a city before,” he replies with uncertainty.

Dutch smirks with that boisterous smile that Arthur has known for years. “Yeah, well you leave the planning to me, You’ll ride with me?”

“Always.”

Dutch grabs Arthur’s shoulder to reassure him. “Gonna get enough to get on a boat. Raise that kid o’yours on a mango farm, with no worries in the world.”

Arthur frowns, at both the mention of the baby and this harebrained idea of going to Tahiti of all places. Dutch senses his trepidation.

Dutch sighs, looking out over the balcony as a plume of smoke drifting upwards. He squints up the road leading toward Scarlett Meadows, placing his hands on the worn railing, “What the–”

Mary Beth’s scream cuts through the quiet.

Sadie Adler is quite unperturbed by the blood spattered all over her blouse. Frankly, she seems quite comfortable partly drenched in the lifeblood of O’Dricolls - doling out her divine justice for the wrongs hoisted upon her.

Arthur, however, is mad as a grizzly bear.

“The last time I saw her she was with ‘im.” Sadie nods at poor Kieran’s headless body, where Javier and Bill hoist him up for burial outside of camp. Orville Swanson seems suddenly quite sober as he holds the decapitated head, slowly trailing the other two.

Arthur grinds his teeth so hard that most of the state could probably hear him. Scowling, he surveys the carnage outside the old house before stalking toward the horses, some of them having broken their hitches and darted further into the woods.

“Charles!” Arthur barks, “Missus Adler.”

Sadie nods, shouldering her rifle. Charles joins in, trotting from where he had just thrown a corpse into the bayou to follow the other two over to the horses from the old plantation house.

John Marston leads Old Boy out of the woods and swings up on him, leading the half-bred to where the other three horses have gathered.

“Marston.”

“You helped me get my son back. I ain’t… Ain’t gonna stand by watchin�� you try to get yours back.`` John adjusts the strap of his repeater across his chest.

Arthur simply grunts, too aggravated to show any thanks. He digs his spurs into his horse’s side, and with a high whinny, Arthur urges the mare into a gallop as they leave the plantation. Taima, Bob, and Old Boy fall in line.

He grips his revolver hard, standing in his saddle as the mare runs blisteringly fast up the road, through the old battlefields, and north into Scarlett Meadows.

The shouts and yells and gunshots have you huddling against the wagon wheel, your arms scream in pain as you try to tug at your bindings, your knees drawn up close to try and shield your belly from whoever is rolling in on your captors. Was it more O’Driscolls? Was it Lemoyne Raiders?

A pair of boots sidle up in front of you. You look up in fear, your heart racing, and a gasp escapes your mouth as you stare up at the owner of said boots.

Arthur stands in front of the wagon, his whole body heaving with labored breaths. Blood is spattered up the side of his face, his hands tightly around a shotgun, still cocked and smoking from its obvious use.

“Darlin’-”

Overwhelmed, you moan and start to collapse forward. He moves with a speed that betrays how wound up he still is from the fight, throwing his shotgun to the ground and catching you, whipping out his knife from its sheath and cutting the ropes that bind your arms.

Immediately, he heaves you up in his arms as if you were nothing as he stands up from his knee. With his arms looped behind your back and under your knees, he crushes you to himself for a moment.

“Are you hurt? What’s all this blood?” Arthur frets, looking over your bloodstained shift, eyes darting over your belly, searching for a possible injury where it was coming from.

Instead of answering you throw your arms around his neck, burying your head into his collarbone.

“Sweetheart, y’gotta tell me-”

“The blood is Kieran’s,” You croak, “Ain’t mine… I’m alrigh’... we’re alrigh’.” You trail off and then begin to weep into Arthur’s shirt.

You can almost hear his jaw clench. A darkness shrouds his face as he carries you back into the campsite, shot up and full of bodies. You turn to see the carnage.

Sadie continues to loot the bodies of the fallen O’Driscolls, kicking each one as she finishes for good measure. Charles walks Arthur’s mare and Taima from the woodline where they had ditched the horses.

Arthur’s shotgun is picked up from the ground. Clutching once more at Arthur’s shirt, you make eye contact with John Marston, who stares back at you with an unreadable expression.

The door latches behind you - at least as much as it can physically latch, and silence finally falls in this old room, the oil lamp throwing yellow-orange light and casting shadows around the room. The floorboards creak under the heavy footfall of Arthur’s boots as he moves toward the center of the room, one by one taking the weapons off of his person.

A repeater was laid against the table. A rifle balanced on his clothing chest. He shrugs off his bloodstained brown leather jacket and tosses it to the floor before looking back up at you. The simmering vein of anger in his blood seems to have been assuaged on the ride back, where he clutched you in his arm tight enough that the devil himself would have to pry you from his grasp.

“Y’sure you're okay? Y’sure all that blood ain't yours?”

You nod, trying to stave off the tears that threaten to fall from your eyes, failing miserably as your chin quivers and your lips purse. Arthur yanks his hat off and lets it drop on the table as he closes the distance between you.

“Sweetheart-”

His hands reach toward you, but you immediately grab him by the wrists before he has a chance to pull you into his embrace. Pulling his hands downward, you place them broadly across your belly, his eyes widening as he spreads his fingers out over the swell. You place your own hands over his, pressing against them so he can feel the movement beneath your skin.

His cornflower-blue eyes track up to yours, and with a shuddering sob, the wall you’d been building between yourself and him finally crumbles.

“I-it’s yours-,” your voice cracks as tears freely flow down your face, “It’s yours, Arthur. This baby is yours and mine a-and-”

He removes one hand from your belly and pulls you into his warm embrace, kissing the top of your head gently as he traces soft circles on your skin with the remaining hand.

“Always was, darlin’.” The timbres of his low voice are comforting as you weep into his work shirt. “Like I told ya - that child is mine. I'm gonna be its pa.”

You sob harder into his warmth, your fingers tightening in the fabric as you clutch at him. One of his hands finds your lower back and gently rubs circles in soothing motions.

“No.. no I mean…He… didn’t, he didn’t-” you stutter, hiccuping.

“Y’ain’t gotta say anything bout him-” Arthur cups the back of your head, trying to prevent you from going down that road.

“I- I don’t know why it was stuck in my head. Like I couldn’t think it was possible that it wasn’t his… but - but he ain’t, it’s not…”

“Sweetheart-”

“He didn’t finish in me. It - it was only once and he didn’t finish in me.” You spit out, as if the words were venom in your mouth. You squeeze your eyes shut against your body's physical reaction: a shudder of revulsion as past scenes invade your mind again. But speaking it aloud, getting it out in the open, there was something freeing about it.

Arthur clutches you to him, tucking his chin against the crown of your head.

“N-None of them O’Driscolls touched me.” You whimper into his chest.

You feel his arms tighten around you, as he breathes in to seemingly center himself again, the rage from before threatening to lash out once again.

“I’m still gonna hunt down every one of them and -” He snarls lowly before you bury your face into his chest,

“Don’t. Don’t - don’t leave me. I need you here.”

He breathes out slowly, calming himself down before he cups the back of your head. “Ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

After a moment to collect yourself, you look up at him, one of your hands tracing up his broad chest, his neck, your fingers weaving through his short beard.

“Arthur,” you sniffle, rubbing at your wet cheek with the back of your other hand.

“You don’t gotta do anythin’.” He interjects, his thumb catching your jaw before wiping the opposite cheek.

Your brow crinkles and you step up on your toes and press your lips to his forcefully, which he meets your fervor almost immediately.

You open your mouth to him and he groans lowly, drawing you even closer in his embrace, awkward with the swell of your child between you.

He draws away from your lips slowly, and his hands trace up your body to cup your cheeks gently - far too gently for a gunslinging outlaw.

“What d’ya want, sweetheart?” His low voice rumbles before he presses his lips to your forehead. You let out a breath and lean into him, reaching up on your toes to press your lips against his again, arms wound around his torso. Your belly presses against his, preventing you from melting fully into his arms.

The words tumble from your lips before you can stop them.

“Will you touch me?”

So long ago, you had timidly asked him that in front of a campfire in West Elizabeth. You had begged him, pleaded, to have him take away the pain and memory of your ordeal. To have the last person who touched you do it out of love, not power and control.

Arthur smiles, like the morning sunrise, and draws you up for another kiss.

“Ain’t nothin’ I'd like more to do.”

There are several more moments of kissing, the wet sounds of mouths meeting the only sound in the room before Arthur bends to pick you up, hooking his arm beneath your knee and carrying you to the rickety old bed, laying you down gently with a kiss to your forehead.

“I ain’t… I’ve never done this with someone in your… condition.” Arthur stutters sheepishly as he slides one of his suspenders down his arms.

You smile and reach up to grab the other suspender and peel it downward. “I’ll be okay. Just be gentle.”

The cotton straps swing by his side as he leans over to take his boots off, they clunk to the floor heavily as he tosses them away. He leans over you and works your boots off, tossing them to the floor in a pile near his own.

Hands move slowly - gently, with purpose. His shirt falls to the floor. Your bloodstained skirt follows. The ruined blouse. They all pile on the floorboards until your lace-trimmed chemise is all that covers your body. You give a lopsided grin as he reaches toward your neckline.

“What?” He grins, tracing up to one shoulder and pushing the strap down your bicep.

“Reckon I look a little different since the last time we did this.”

The cotton is peeled downward, exposing your swollen breast and darkened nipple.

“Reckon you’re even more beautiful now.” He drawls before fully leaning over you and pressing his lips against the top of your breast, and you mewl in response, your sensitivity so heightened as he works his way down, letting his tongue lave over your nipple. You arch your back, chasing the feeling, whimpering as his lips close around your nipple and gently suck upon it for a moment.

Your fingers weave into his hair, and you yelp as he sucks harder, yanking on his hair in overstimulation. His mouth pops off your nipple as he rears up immediately, concern alight in his eyes.

“S’okay - just a little sensitive.” You ruffle his hair affectionately as he whispers an apology, sheepish as he leans up to kiss you quickly, his grip on you not nearly as strong.

“C’mon now,” you pull your chemise over your head, tossing it over the bed and moving one of his hands to your hip to push down your drawers. Arthur’s breath stutters as his hand traces back up your thigh as you kick the bloomers off, some of his earlier fear and reticence leaving him.

“Christ,” he breathes against your skin as he buries his face in the curve of your neck, “Yer so beautiful like this.”

His large hand dips between your legs and you whimper as you spread them to grant access. His fingers immediately part your folds and it’s only half a moment before he finds that little nub of your pleasure, circling it with his finger as you begin to mewl softly, your eyes fluttering closed as he leans over you.

You stutter in gasping notes, needy whines filling the room as he touches you. He rumbles his assent, pleased, “It’s been killin’ me not to touch you.”

“Really?” You breathe, and he takes the opportunity to slide his thick trigger finger into your cunt, and your back arches in response.

“Course- you, you’re,” he stops and groans in your ear as he pulls his finger out, near dripping with your essence, “You’re the prettiest damn thing I’ve ever seen, carrying’ my child.”

“Yours.” You croon in response.

He agrees with a smirk, knowing he’s finally helped pull you from the abyss of denial, “Mine. Just like you, yer my girl.”

Arthur slides his finger back in. You gasp, high and flighty, blushing and needy. Your hands clutch at the old sheet laid out on the bed.

His other hand brushes a few strands of your hair from your forehead, tucking them behind your ear. He smiles, dangerously fond, and leans over to press his lips to yours and smothers the noises of your pleasure.

For a moment, the only sound in the room is the wet squelching of his hand, gently, slowly thrusting in and out between your spread legs. When he moves to hold himself above you again, he runs his gaze up and down your body - your bite-swollen lips, your heaving bosom - darkened nipples spit-slicked in the evening light.

The roundness of your belly where his child grows.

By the time his gaze returns to your face, he finds you waiting. Your eyes open wide and searching for his.

“Arthur.”

“Mm?” He nods, drawing his finger out from your body. You grab at his wrist to ground yourself.

“I want you.”

Arthur smiles in response, pressing a kiss to your forehead as you lay on his bed. He stands up to his full height from where he leaned over you and unbuttons his pants, pushing down both them and the short drawers he had taken to wearing in the Lemoyne heat. After the fabric reaches his saddle-hewn thighs, it falls to the ground, pooling at his feet, leaving all six feet of him bare for you to see.

His hefty cock stands at attention, darkened with blood and wet at the tip. A testament to his reciprocated want.

“Here, turn over,” Arthur helps you to roll onto your side, facing the wall, and he slides into the bed next to you, its old wood creaking with the weight and movement. Arthur holds a hand tightly to your hip as you lay on your side away from him, squeezing affectionately as he settles in.

Flushed against your back, even with you large with child, Arthur dominates you, his arm curling up and over your torso. He’s warm and strong and hard against you.

“You tell me if anythin’ doesn’t feed good, alrigh’?” He rumbles into your ear as his hand, having moved down to your thigh, pulls your leg backward and over his own hip.

You nod vigorously, unable to articulate any words as you feel him guide his cock between your legs, tucking it between your folds and giving a few languid, gentle thrusts to coat himself in your slick. You grab at the hand spread out over your thigh and interlace your fingers; he squeezes your hand in response.

Arthur grits his teeth as pulls his hips back, the head of his cock catching on your opening. He presses inward, his hardened flesh pushing through the rim of your cunt. You gasp in return, feeling the first inches of him enter your body.

He leans up on one elbow and presses his lips to your temple as you whimper.

“Okay?” He whispers, remaining still, only half buried in your warmth.

You whine a little and wiggle your hips, he groans as another inch of him slips in. He presses forward, fully sheathing himself in you, and you whimper again, cunt stuffed full of him.

He allows you time to accommodate him - the dual pressure of him and the child pressing on your hips is nearly painful in a way that you can’t get enough. You tip your head back, breathing out as your whole body presses back against his - even swollen with child, you feel small against him. All muscle and corded arms and his broad chest-

Arthur gives an experimental, shallow thrust of his hips. His cock halfway leaves you before pushing into you again. The whimpering escaping your mouth escalates into a moan, and he curls his body over yours, his stubble against your cheek, and you can feel him smile against you.

“There’s my girl.”

He does it again. And again, and again, until he is throwing his hips against yours, panting wildly in your ear as he fills your cunt over and over.

Arthur’s hand moves from under yours on your thigh to cradle your belly and the life growing within. You feel fit to burst - the fondness overflowing from your heart at his gesture, the rhythmic slapping of his skin against yours, the filling and emptying of your core with all of him - it is only moments before you stutter out a breathy jumble of words.

“M’ gonna-ngh- Arth… Arthur, I’m gonn-”

He holds himself still, a feat in itself, and rubs at your clit with two fingers, leaving you a gasping, shuddering mess as he works an orgasm out of you.

“There we go, there’s my girl.” He whispers again in your ear as you shudder and shake and gasp, his cock still buried to the hilt within you. As you come down from your high, he gently pulls out, laying on his back and grunting as he takes himself in hand, pumping his cock until he breathes out heavily, coming all over his belly as he finds his pleasure.

You lay still for a few moments more, recovering and catching your breath. You feel Arthur unwind himself from you and get up from the rickety bed. With some measure of difficulty, you turn yourself around, facing the room instead of the wall. One of your hands subconsciously begins drawing small circles on your stomach as you watch Arthur wipe his own clean of his spend with an old bandana.

Arthur tosses the soiled bandana to the ground. He goes to reach for a fresh union suit before you make a sound of disapproval.

“Come sleep with me.” You plead, and the smile he gives you in return assuages all fears as he drops the union suit and takes the last few steps between the bed and where he stood.

With a bit of finagling, he slides into bed and pulls the old blanket over the two of you.

He returns to you as you wind your arms around his neck, your naked bodies pressed against each other, the swell of your child between you. One of his hands rests on your belly, and for the first time in months, you fall asleep at peace.

#red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan smut #red dead fanfic #arthur morgan x female reader #rdr2 fanfic #arthur morgan x reader #twolafic #passerine

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cowboyfromh3ll · 11 months

Note

how about for arthur, john, and charles: your hcs on how each would react to a shyer (not naive) reader who has a crush on him and keeps needing his “help” for various things so she can get his attention, and eventually working up the nerve to be more forward and hopefully pique his interest. who would catch on the fastest? would any of them realize before or after she becomes more forward and how would they react from there? smut absolutely welcome 🙏🏻

HC for Shy!Reader ft. Arthur Morgan, John Marston, Charles Smith

HCs are so easy and fun to write

Warnings: smut

Arthur Morgan

Arthur did not allow you much time to go and ask for help given his repeated and lengthy absences from camp

But when he was around to help, he put his all into it

No matter how mundane or small it may be, he always made sure to help you until satisfaction. Similar to the way he helps random people around the map, he helps you in the same way.

But the level at which you asked for help was quite baffling to Arthur, but he never made a comment on it. He would never want to make you feel as though you were somehow less competent at doing things than the average person

He liked the way you would try to strike up conversation with him whenever he was helping you, recounting his travels to you in detail upon request

Part of him wondered why the two of you didn’t just talk more often outside of his time helping you. What he didn’t know is that you were unable to come up with a decent, not-too-forthcoming, excuse as to why the two of you should spend more time together alone

He probably wouldn’t catch onto that fact too quickly, instead thinking you were just a person who wasn’t afraid of asking for help

He’d definitely think something was up when he realizes he’s the only one you ask

Maybe he’s just a dependable guy? He thinks to himself

But when you ask him to help you go fishing, come to find out you didn’t even have a rod, it was too late to back out as the two of you were already alone down the lake at Clemens point

He felt quite touched when you told him you really just wanted to spend time together, and that you weren’t sure how else to ask

Insisted you be more forward with him to establish a level of comfort between you two, but he still found it quite cute when you would shyly ask him for help

Eventually led to you two becoming very close, noticeably sweet on each other. Even the gang was able to catch on.

NSFW

Even though the two of you had been in an established relationship, your bashfulness did not end.

Asking for help for sexual matters was something you subtly hinted at or wordlessly requested, rather than outright saying it

Arthur himself was a man who needed clear permission, and your hints would be met with crudely sexual questions asking for confirmation

“You wanna have sex? Is that what you’re saying? Or am I understanding this all wrong.”

His forwardness would have you burying your burning face in your shared cot as you nodded

Arthur was a very perceptive man, so when asking if he was rubbing your clit just right or if he needed to slow his thrusts down, you’d squeak out an embarrassed response

When you wanted him to touch you in a certain place, you’d nudge him in the direction, yank on his hand or hair, or simply just bashfully point wordlessly

Makes sure to constantly ask questions because he knows you’re not very vocal when it comes to self advocacy

Extremely tender and very patient with you, just wants to make you feel comfortable in the end to be able to vocalize your needs

John Marston (my pookie)

This man is as dense and stupid as a bag of rocks

The man himself doesn’t even know what he wants, so figuring out what you want is mental gymnastics on its own

He’s around pretty often helping around camp, and he doesn’t mind taking on the brunt of your chores as well

Doesn’t realize what you’re trying to do so sometimes he turns you down, saying he’s too busy

“Are you really that helpless?”

He’d stand there confused as you stormed off angrily, only to have him follow you around camp begging for forgiveness

“I ain’t mean that, I’m happy to help you. I’m a fool, honest.”

You’d forgive him eventually

If it’s a more tedious task you need help with, he would get into the zone. Honing in all his attention while trying to fulfill his efforts in helping you as competently as he can

Focuses so much, that sometimes if you try to strike up a conversation about his day, he’ll either shut you down, or be so concentrated he won't even register your question

“Hold on, can you stop talking for a sec? I’m tryna concentrate.”

Would be equally as confused when you huff angrily and turn away while crossing your arms

You realize yourself that John isn’t picking up any hints, so you offer your own help as a form of “repayment” for everything he’s done for you

Is also dense about that

“I appreciate the help, little lady. Though I don’t see why you’d willingly offer to help to fix a wagon wheel.”

Kinda laughable how oblivious he is

Eventually you have to muster up all the courage possible to ask him on a date to town

Emphasize the word date. Or else he’ll think you just want help with errands or something

Will accept, but won’t shut up the whole time about how sudden this is and how he would’ve never seen it coming

NSFW

Would get very excited if you even hint at something sexual

Much like Arthur, he’d ask for confirmation, but much more enthusiastically

“So you wanna fuck right? Right?!”

Kinda desperate but who can blame him, you’re equally as horny

Get so caught up in excitement he gets straight to it, has to be reminded to ask questions and check up on you

The one time where you actually feel compelled to tell him things straight up instead of just hinting at it

“For the love of god, slow down Marston!”

He would for a few minutes, then get back to it

Would still be shy with asking, but you get so frustrated with how dense he is you’re kinda forced to

His excitement rubs off on you, so he doesn’t mind at all when you just shove his face between your thighs, that does all the speaking for you

Says shit like “You like that, don’t you?” without actually waiting for a response

Gets very embarrassed when you say no and ask him to do it another way

Charles Smith

This man's love language is literally acts of service

He’d probably end up falling for you in the process of helping you out so often

Will be more than happy to take you up on every request for help

Not only does it make you happy, but it makes him feel good for being able to help someone

Literally thrives off of it

He would be the one to pick up on it the fastest, but he wouldn’t make a comment. He doesn’t want to scare you off by being too forward and therefore curtailing your requests for help

Would be very intimate while helping you

“Hey, come closer to take a look at how I do it.”

You would lean in incredibly close, so much so that you’d be able to hear his breathing

Would sometimes take your hands and make you do it as well

Hands would linger far longer than necessary while helping you

And you aren’t naive! You knew what he was doing! He was flirting with you!

From an outside perspective, it appeared as though the two of you were just sitting around together and flirting rather than doing something to help you

“Like this?” You’d ask, which was followed by a giggle

It was pure self indulgence

He would often approach you himself and ask if you needed help on anything

Other times, he’d ask if you wanted to learn something new, showing you how to make weapons or how to identify certain plants from one another

Some tasks would be found mundane by others, but it was the most entertaining thing in the world as long as Charles was teaching you

You would feel most comfortable with him with asking him out, your question sounding more like a mutual profession of love from one another

NSFW

So so gentle

Much like in your relationship, you’d feel far more comfortable expressing your wants and desires to him

But you still struggle to maintain eye contact while saying it

If you turn your face away during sex he’ll gently cup your cheek and move your head to face him

Can pick up on your body language if you don’t feel too vocal

Will slow down or pick up the pace based on how your body reacts

Your moans are also a good indicator for him to know

Will also ask you questions before and after sex, like your some sort of food critic and you’re giving him feedback on his dish

You guys will probably sit down and have whole talks about your sex life, as embarrassed as it makes you, but he finds it necessary

Guy is a huge giver, in no time, he’ll know your body and what you do and don’t like like the back of his hand

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devnmon · 7 months

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dating sadie adler, kisser of women hcs ♡

obviously i had to do this for my bbg sadie. she deserves MORE appreciation and if nobody will write for her I WILL!!!! i gladly will. i love her, so enjoy these! luv u all!

[also just pretend this is historically accurate bye!]

Sadie is a very intelligent woman... she knows how to hunt, how to use a gun, who knows what else is in that brain of hers. She must have so many hidden talents and skills, and you intend to find out what.

Though her addition to the group was somewhat abrupt, you and Abigail do your best to make her feel welcome. You aren't sure if Sadie feels the comfort that you hope your words provide to her at first. Once the group moves to Clemens Point, you find she's coming out of her shell little by little. You see it in her pristine new outfit when she returns from a run with Arthur, and the way she holds herself is much different than before.

This new version of Sadie Adler was fiery, confident and stickin' it to the man– you quickly found out not to get on her bad side. Though you think you'd let her do anything to you if it were the right situation.

The minute Sadie realizes what she's feeling for you is more than platonic... it takes her back a step. She never thought she'd find someone other than Jake to want in that way– but here you are. You're always at her side, perfect to her, and she will protect you like her life depends on it. When she silently swallows her feelings and pretends she doesn't care, you notice.

You all but have to drag her out of camp in the middle of the night to get a minute alone with her; otherwise there's prying eyes and others whose attention you really didn't wish to grab.

Once the two of you are alone you'll go off on how she's been avoiding you at every turn, rambling on and on like you'd done something wrong. "What happened to you?" you'd ask. She sighs and goes "You happened to me."

"I've been a fool. Do you hate me? What have I done?" statements flow from her when she notices you're silent, staring while she stutters over confessing her feelings. It's at that point you shut her up by kissing her and you can almost hear the sparks flying from the two of you. There's a big ass smile on her face afterwards and she kisses you in between her smiles. Sadie Adler is a smitten fool for you.

She's observant, patient and good with her hands. That is: she teaches you how to shoot a rifle, since you're more comfortable to ask her. She gladly shows you, and when you think you've got it, her arms surround you from behind to adjust your aim– and you're blushing. After she takes her hands away, you're flustered by the loss and silently begging for her to put them back.

Will match outfits with you nonchalantly as a statement to your relationship with her. Like say you're wearing an outfit with blue or white, she'll wear a blue scarf and her white shirt to match you. She'll even give you a piece of her jewelry to wear in that instance, or get you a piece of your own to match hers. Sadie's sentimental & cute like that!!!

Sadie will also leave you notes secretly, to which you fawn over every time. She also definitely gushes over the ones you leave her, when you compare her to the sweet flowers you pick for her. [Arthur noticed how hard she was blushing one time and got curious, she's had to read your notes in private ever since!]

Definitely gets veryyy touchy and affectionate when she's had a few drinks. She's slurring out "Heyyy pretty girlll I know where you can find a nice place to stay for the night..." in your ear and you have to excuse yourselves in *attempt* to get her to sleep.

Sadie is definitely the type to say "i owe you a hundred kisses" if you had a bet with her about something. Usually it was silly, harmless contests that either of you could compete against each other in playfully.

Sadie also introduced you to pranks, which she loves to pull on the other guys. One time the two of you messed with Arthur, sending him silly letters from someone named "Hugh Janus". The two of you tried to hold in your laughs when he got frustrated and yelled out "WHO THE HELL IS HUGH JANUS??" in camp unprompted.

Sadie is a huge cuddler at night, intertwining her whole body with yours to keep warm, especially when it gets chilly at night. There's not a smidge of space to have for yourself, it's shared with her always. Other examples of this are her linking her pinkie finger with yours when you're standing around the group. She loves physical touch so much that she'll do anything to have her skin on yours no matter what; if it's riding on the back of the same horse, or pouring her a drink, she's making some sort of contact. It's her way to say "I'm here & I love you". She's such a sweetheart to you.

NSFW

Yeah Sadie is a top this Sadie is a top that... may I suggest... she's a switch. On rare occasions, Sadie Loves being on her knees for you. She's a real freak like that. She'll beg and beg and beg until you cave and give her what she wants: you.

“Please, stop teasin’ me, just give me what I want. You know I’ll return the favor, sweet girl.” Her raspy voice, her gentle commands, her pretty thighs spread for you..

But when she's in control? Oh it's absoluuutely over for you. She'll praise you constantly cause she knows it's what you want to hear. “Doin’ so good for me, pretty girl. C’mon, let me hear you, use your words. I know you can.. Such a good girl.”

Her soft little whimpers & pleas as she climbs higher & higher. she’s so desperate for release & your touch, she’s basically sobbing for it. her eyes never leave you once she hears the same needy whine come from your side of the room, wanting to watch you come undone from the sight of her spread out for you.

You can't tell me she doesn't get off on you pulling her hair when it's in a messy braid. You love to run your fingers through it and grip, but it's too hot out for that. Plus she thinks it's easier for her braid to be pulled, and fucking loves it.

Her skilled hands could make you a whimpering mess, easily. She knows her way around, and boy if she isn't good at what she does.

"There you go, you got it, takin me so well..." in that accent of hers.. You'll fold every time. “Oh, look at you, pretty girl. Fallin’ apart for me so easily. D'ya know how whipped you got me?" Yeah, she's a lady who knows how to drive you crazy.

Then again... she's a goddamn tease. Especially if you've been bratty? Oh it's over for you. She feels your body up and down, making you work for any other sensual touches by begging. It's music to her ears. She lovesss to make you work for it.

She'll take her time for however long edging you with her fingers, then her tongue, and once you've had about two orgasms from just that, she sticks her strap inside you and gets another.

For aftercare, she'll ask you if you're feeling alright and lay with you after she cleans you up. Usually the both of you fall asleep afterwards, or take a bath or a shower before you do. Her brown eyes shine in the light while she tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and kisses your cheeks while you lie together.

#signed rye #sadie adler #sadie adler x afab reader #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 #devnmonwrites #ryesff #red dead redemption 2 #dividers by cafekitsune #dividers by plutism

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entropyfox · 2 months

Text

Kieran Duffy, Clemens Point, 1899

Soooo I heard you guys like Kieran?

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption photography #rdr2 kieran #kieran duffy #clemens point

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four-leafed-queer-gal · 3 months

Text

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧Hi there! You can call me Clover!𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧toki! mi kala Kowe, anu soweli Kowe, anu waso Kowe!𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧

‧₊˚🌿✩ ₊˚🪵⊹♡‧₊˚🌿✩ ₊˚🪵⊹♡

I AM NOT ON POST LIMIT

I hate to do this, because there are some genuine and important donation pages and the like out there, but a few bad apples mess it up for everyone I suppose.

ATTENTION EVERYONE:

UNLESS WE ARE MUTUALS, DO NOT SEND ME ASKS WITH DONATION LINKS. IF YOU DO, I WILL ASSUME YOU ARE A BOT AND YOU WILL BE BLOCKED.

More below the cut :3

♡ 17 years old, & a Saggitarius! Turning 18 in approx. 2 months!

♡ ✨Taken✨ by the amazing @theacemagpie, the Black Bat to my Spoiler 8/7/2024 (Or 7/8/2024, if you use DD/MM/YYYY)

♡ my pronouns are she/they! 🏳️‍⚧️

♡ I have ASD, BPD, and ADHD ☘️

♡ I love languages! I can only speak English fluently, but I'm learning Old Norse, Old English, Italian, Spanish, Portuguese, toki pona, Russian, and Albanian! I also speak a little bit of French, thanks to school & friends! 🗣️

♡ I like Marvel, PJO, Avatar (Both blue people and not blue people), Batman, Hunger Games, Suits (The show), Skyrim, Ben 10 (Not the reboot), and more! ✨

♡ Therian! Theriotypes: Spotted Hyena, Sea Wolf, Viperfish, Vampire Bat, Arctic Fox, Eleonora's Falcon, Moth, Barracuda, Thresher Shark, Raven, & Cheetah (Plus others I haven't figured out yet)

♡ my favourite animals are dinosaurs 🦖

♡ I love to read 📚

♡ I enjoy writing! ✏️

♡ Pagan! I worship the Norse, Egyptian, Celtic, Roman, Greek, pretty much everybody! I'm very eclectic. My patron is Loki, They're mín Móðir. The others I work with the most are The Morrígan, The Twin Archers (Apollo & Artemis), and Thoth!

"People are going to talk shit about you no matter what. May as well give them an interesting topic!" - Mín Móðir

𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊

Please DNI if: you’re queerphobic, anti-self dx, someone who supports beastiality, zoophilia, pedophilia, rape, etc, or if you’re racist, ableist, sexist, or fascist. Be nice! I won't hesitate to block assholes, or bigots ✨☘️

"Be humble, be kind, but don't be afraid to drag the fucker who crosses the line" - Me

✩°𓏲⋆🌿. ⋆⸜ 🍵✮˚

Side blogs! Pls interact with them?

- @cass-daughter-o-ari RP blog for my PJO OC, Cass Clemens!

- @the-axolotl-queen Blog for the Axolotl Kingdom! I'm the Queen, obvs-

- @montoya-son-o-nemesis RP blog for my PJO OC, Jason Montoya!

- @lucas-bane-son-of-punishment RP blog for my PJO OC, Lucas Bane!

- @lughs-lightheaded-son RP blog for my Celtic PJO OC, Aidan O'Neil!

- @daughter-of-the-cailleach RP blog for my Celtic PJO OC, Taran Keir!

- @ronan-child-of-ogham RP blog for my Celtic PJO OC, Ronan Callahan!

- @behold-a-man-everyday Behold! A man! Everyday!

- @diogenes-totally-real Diogenes the Cynic gimmick blog!

- @aeolus-the4winds RP blog for Aeolus, Notos, Zephyros, Boreas, Euros, Aeolus, Auster, Favonius, Aquilon, and Vulturnus!

- @the-fmby-north-carolina-totally Gimmick blog, a Femboy North Carolina!

- @antiquitian-empire-real Gimmick blog, Antiquitian Empire! A micronation!

- @literally-the-first-state Gimmick blog, Delaware! The first state in the United States!

- @four-leafed-queer-writing Writing blog! I'll reblog writing tips, and sometimes post original stories of mine!

- @four-leafed-pagan-gal Pagan blog! Reblogs for things relating to the Old Gods and other pagany and/or witchy things!

✩°𓏲⋆🌿. ⋆⸜ 🍵✮˚

Here are some of my cool humans (moots)! 💚

♡ @theacemagpie My amazing girlfriend! A fellow fan of numerous fandoms, and a speaker of multiple languages! <3

♡ @star-dust-shark Mack! He's a super cool dude, and who made most of this intro post! Go check out his blog!

♡ @lucas-iamgod Lucas! He's also a really cool guy, you should check out his blog!

♡ @hugs4neth-official Neth + others! They're all really cool, and in my experience are nice.

♡ @green-thighs-save-lives I honestly don't know much about him, but he's a nice, chill guy from our interactions.

♡ @violet-hady Hady! Great person, good friend, though always tells me to be healthy and stuff-

♡ @ankoku-teion Irish, fellow trans something??? She's currently debating between three names, I'll update with whatever she chooses when results are released :]

♡ @poemsofanentomologist An anentomologist! They're really cool, they write poetry and have inspired me once or twice to write some of my own!

♡ @gaygoose09 Fellow therian and fellow hyena, very awesome! Check out their blog!

♡ @i-am-thoroughly-confused A fellow therian & fellow bat! They are a good being :3

♡ @poppitron360 A fellow PJO enjoyer! They've got great takes on Riordanverse stuff, y'all should check out their blog!

♡ @justagremlinoncaffeine Gremlin! Cool person, really nice, I've enjoyed every interaction I have with them.

♡ @unstableunicornsofasgard Forrest! Also a great person, ¡y el habla español!

♡ @theacemagpie Magpie! An amazing person! Honestly can't believe it took me this long to add her to my pinned, lol-

♡ @peace-love-and-french-toast Amazing human! I sometimes do PJO rps with them, and with a bunch of others! They run @cabinseventheaterchick, and do a darn good job!

♡ @lizzzzzzzzzzzzzz---lol We haven't interacted much, but Liz is a great person, and what little interaction we have had has been good!

♡ + All my other moots! I have a lot, so I can't list all of y'all, but you're all amazing!

₊˚ʚ 🌱 ₊˚✧ﾟ.

"Either walk like you're the Queen, or like you don't care who the Queen is." - Lady Artemis

Have a nice time! <3

(Note: Intro post was made by @star-dust-shark!! If you want one like it, go check out Mack's blog!!)

#intro post #hi everybody!

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wildfloweroutlaw · 1 year

Text

Long Kept Secrets

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

pairing: Arthur Morgan X Female Reader

drabble: fluff, mutual pining, something sweet and simple.

summary: Arthur invites you along on one of his adventures, and it becomes harder and harder for him to keep his feelings to himself.

a/n: this is just a little something to dip my toes back into writing. I have nitpicked tf out of this and i still don’t really like it, but here it is!

word count: 3k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You found yourself standing on the edge of Clemens Point, staring out over the peaceful water, and sipping your morning coffee slowly. The heat and humidity were actually tolerable this early, making this your favorite time of the day. Behind you, the rest of camp was beginning to come alive, some strolling from their tents groggily, some gathered around the coffee pot. However, you noticed one individual was missing.

Arthur was always up before you were, and on days that he was in camp, he was the first person you said good morning to. You and Arthur had been friends for years and if you were truthful with yourself, you wouldn’t mind being more than that. You had always found him incredibly handsome, and once you had broke through the tough guy act, you discovered the man was incredibly kind hearted and sensitive. Arthur also possessed a dry sense of humor that was very funny, given you could tell when he was joking. He was even charming in a strange way. Despite this, you never let yourself dream too long about a relationship with Arthur, he he always seemed to be romantically unavailable at best.

Your eyes combed the camp once more, searching for Arthur’s familiar form. You spied his horse at the hitching post, so you knew he couldn’t be far. Your eyes finally fell on his tent, the flaps closed. How odd. You gulped down the rest of your coffee, and began to make your way across camp, offering polite good mornings to those who had just awoken. As you approached Arthur’s tent you began to second guess yourself. If he’s tired maybe I should let him sleep… or maybe he just wants alone time.

Still, you wanted to make sure he was feeling okay and you raised your hand to knock on the wooden post, standing just in front of the tent flaps. Before your knuckles could ever make contact with the wood, Arthur emerged from the tent, careening into you.

Startled, he muttered curses and grabbed your waist to steady you. Instinctively your hands found his chest. For an instant the two of you were pressed close. “I’m so sorry Arthur!”

Suddenly realizing it was you, and where his hands were, he released his grip on your waist quickly and backed away a bit. “Christ woman… you stalkin’ me?”

“I was just coming to check on you, you’re normally the first one up.” How quickly he had put distance between the two of you was not lost on you and was almost enough to make you roll your eyes.

“You were comin’ to disturb my peace and quiet, you mean?” His hands found his gun belt out of habit.

“More or less.” You shot him a big grin, which earned you a soft chuckle from Arthur.

That damn smile. It was enough to drive him crazy. He drove his thoughts away as quickly as they appeared. “Well I was comin’ to find ya anyways. Want to go somewhere with me today?” He shifted from one foot to the other and found himself praying you’d say yes.

You would go with him anywhere he asked, but of course you didn’t want to seem too eager. “Where to?” You placed your hands firmly on your hips.

“Up to Roanoke Ridge. Got something to do up there.” Arthur toed at the dirt to calm his anxiousness.

You crossed your arms, a smirk playing on your lips. “Hmm… well I’ll have to check my schedule.” You couldn’t help but let out a giggle at the eye roll Arthur gave you. “I guess I could make time for you Arthur”. Your words oozed with sarcastic sweetness, or was it really sarcastic?

“Well don’t I just feel special! Go get dressed woman, I’ll get the horses ready.” Arthur felt an almost childlike excitement in his chest. He always enjoyed your company and looked forward to when the two of you got to spend time together.

You nodded and began to scurry back to your tent, calling over your shoulder, “don’t forget to eat breakfast!”

Arthur was pretty sure you were the only person who cared about his well being, always chasing him down making sure he had gotten enough to eat and lecturing him on taking better care of himself. He ran a hand down his face and shook his head before stalking off to ready your horses.

You went and put on your favorite outfit, the one that fit you just right, and went to meet Arthur at the hitching post. You found him brushing down your horse, talking to her in a low and gentle voice. Your horse didn’t like many people, men especially, but she was quite smitten with Arthur. She’s not the only one, you thought to yourself.

When Arthur heard your approach he slid the brush back into your saddle bag and turned to greet you. He nearly choked when he saw you were wearing that outfit he loved so much. Steering his eyes down to the ground as quickly as he could, he cleared his throat, “You ready?”

You flicked the brim of his hat as you walked by him, “yep, if you are.” You started to get on your horse and as usual, Arthur assisted you. He was painfully modest with his hand placement and kept his eyes hidden below his hat.

Arthur mounted up and pushed his horse into a trot out of camp with you following closely behind. “I’ll lead the way… I don’t think I trust your navigational skills.”

You feigned offense and fell in beside Arthur once the two of you were clear of camp. Arthur began to tell you what exactly the two of you would be doing in Roanoke Ridge, saying there was some sort of rock carving. You didn’t much care what business he had, you were just happy to be along for the ride.

At first, the two of you fell into easy conversation accompanied by your usual banter. But the further you got away from camp, the quieter Arthur got. Some might think that was normal, but you knew him better than that. Yes, Arthur was generally a quiet man, but once it was just the two of you together he was normally chomping at the bit to catch up with you. He might just want some silence. So you settled in for the ride, taking in the views and making the occasional comment, usually met with a short response. It seemed Arthur was a million miles away.

When the two of you rode through Butcher’s Creek, you garnered some less than friendly stares from the locals. “Feelin’ at home yet?” Arthur asked you, taking in the little ragtag village.

You let out a giggle, happy to finally have some of Arthur’s normal personality back. “They must have just forgot to roll out the welcome wagon.”

Arthur let out a soft chuckle, turning to look at you for the first time in a while. He hoped you hadn’t noticed how deep in his own mind he was, but you know him too well. He hoped you were at least still having a decent time, despite his poor company. He allowed himself to study your face, spending a moment to take in all your beautiful features before breaking the silence, “We’re headed up towards Elysian Pool. Ya know it?”

You nodded, “yeah, sorta.” You could feel his eyes burning holes in you, and you attempted to shoo away the bumps that pricked your skin in response.

“Good. I heard the Murfree Brood has gotten real bad around here lately, so stay near me and don’t go wandering off or nothin’.” Arthur pointed his finger at you as a warning, knowing your habits.

“Yes sir.” You let out an exaggerated sigh at the man’s gruff protectiveness. Not that you had planned on straying far from Arthur, you wanted to soak up every minute of alone time with him, even as strange as he was acting.

“See, now that’s more like it.” Arthur flashed you a smug smirk, which only made you roll your eyes, put your heels to your horse and ride past him.

Once you arrived at Elysian Pool, you both dismounted and Arthur began to survey the cliff side. You stared out over the water, studying the lovely waterfall. When you looked back over your shoulder, Arthur was quickly writing something in his journal. You crept up behind him trying to get a peek at the contents of the pages. You would consider you and Arthur to be close friends, but you had only ever gotten to see inside his journal a handful of times. You wanted nothing more than to just flip through the pages to get a glimpse into Arthur’s mind.

Without ever turning around, Arthur finished his writing quickly and snapped the journal closed, shoving it back into his satchel. “C’mere and look darlin’.” He reached behind him and placed his hand on the small of your back, guiding you to his side.

That nickname, It was enough to set the butterflies in your ribs to fluttering. Arthur didn’t use it often but oh how you loved it when he did. You quickly shooed your thoughts away and commanded the butterflies to be still. You followed Arthur’s gaze up to the side of the cliff where an incredible carving resided. “Arthur, how’d you know this was here?”

He gave a shrug, “Asked around. Apparently they’re all over the country. This weird ginger headed fella wants me to send him the coordinates to them. I’ve found a couple already, I uh…. thought you might like to see too.” He made no move to pull away, letting his hand linger on your back as he watched your face light up. He knew he would do anything it took to see that look on your face.

You marveled at the carving, briefly wondering how long it had been there and who had done it. “Arthur, I’ve never seen anything like it!” You turned to face him, placing a gentle hand on his arm. “Thanks for bringing me along, it’s been a while since just the two of us to do anything together.” You suddenly noticed how close you both were, just a few more inches and you would be pressed flush together. The thought alone made your heart pick up a bit. Beside you, the sun was beginning to sink low on the ridge line, reflecting off the water to cast beautiful red-orange rays across Arthur’s face.

Arthur cleared his throat, and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Course…It’s getting’ late. You want to ride up to Annesburg and get a couple of hotel rooms?”

A couple? “Or… we could just camp out here.” Truthfully you were just looking for an excuse to share a tent with the man, but you also genuinely enjoyed your camping trips together. You both always had so much fun, and it was nice to be away from everyone else.

“I-I don’t know about that y/n. You did hear what I said about the Murfree Brood right?” He studied the landscape, kicking at the dirt anxiously, hands still deep in his pockets.

He’s nervous, you suddenly realized. “It ain’t like you to be scared Arthur.” You placed your hands on your hips and studied his face intently. You couldn’t quite figure out what he was so antsy about, but you were going to.

“I wouldn’t be if I was alone…” He finally looked back to you, “I don’t want nothin’ happenin’ to ya is all.”

“And nothing is going to happen to me. Not when I have my very own big tough gunslinger to protect me!” You playfully poked at his side, earning your hands a gentle swat which only served to make you laugh. “Please, Arthur?” You gave him your best puppy dog eyes.

He scratched at his beard and sighed softly. If you asked him to sell his soul to the devil with that look on your face, he knew he’d agree happily. “Fine. But when the Murfrees come callin’ I don’t want to hear no cryin’.” He warned you with mock sternness.

After some mild arguing on where to set up, the two of you finally settled on a secluded spot just on the other side of the Kamass river. Arthur pitched the tent and got the fire going while you retrieved both your bedrolls from your horses. Arthur’s tent was really only made for one person, but the two of you could squeeze, and you’ve done it before. Once you got them situated you went and plopped down at the fire beside Arthur, who was cooking some meat on the end of his knife.

“Here.” He took his knife and held it to your mouth, watching as you gingerly took the meat between your teeth, sliding it off his blade. He felt his face heat up and cursed himself for the thoughts that entered his mind. He sheathed his knife and began to rise, turning to hide the blush creepin up on his face. “I’m gonna go lay down, alright? Get me if ya need me. Unless it’s the Murfrees, you’re on your own with them.”

You simply nodded, watched him enter the tent, and waited a little while. After mulling over the idea for a moment, you decided it was best if you just asked Arthur straight up what was going on with him. You were friends weren’t you? That’s what friends did. You dusted yourself off and made for the tent. You ducked to crawl inside the small structure, finding Arthur sitting up, reading his journal on one side. He snapped it closed and set it aside. He was just about to ask if you were turning in already when you sat yourself practically on top of him. “Is everything okay? With you I mean… you’ve just been acting like something’s been on your mind all day.” You placed your hand on his knee softly.

Arthur looked down at your hand, then back to you, then decided his lap was suddenly very interesting. “Yeah… yeah ’m fine darlin’.”

You reached up and grasped his jaw, directing his eyes to yours. “Arthur, you know you can tell me anything… right? I know something is bothering you so if you want to talk about, I’ll listen.” Even in the dim lighting of the tent, he looked so very handsome, his sea green eyes staring back at you.

Arthur quietly studied you for a moment before he took your hand from his jaw and held it in his own. He stared down at both of your hands before he intertwined his fingers with yours. “Actually… there is somethin’ I’ve been hopin’- well… meanin’ to talk to you about…”

You tried your very best to focus on his words and not his big gloved hand cradling yours while you waited patiently for him to go on.

Arthur scratched at his beard with his spare hand, eyes glued to his lap where both of your hands lay. “I was thinkin’ that uh- Well I thought that maybe… I uh- I don’t really know how to say it. Darlin’ I-“

You leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to his lips for a few heartbeats before pulling away again. “Is that what you were trying to say?” Arthur stared back at you, speechless. For one horrible moment you thought you had really misread the situation.

A bright red blush had crept up Arthur’s neck and painted his cheeks. Speak you damn idiot, he cursed himself and cleared his throat awkwardly before speaking, “yeah… more or less.” He let out a soft chuckle. “Y’know I practiced what to say the entire ride up here and still couldn’t get it right somehow… sweetheart I am a fool. But I care about ya more than you know… here.” He opened his journal to a filled page. It was a beautiful sketch of you, he had been working on it for a few days now, his favorite yet. Beside it was something he had written just this morning in his tent.

I know I’m sure I want to ask her to be mine… I just ain’t real sure how. How could I ever put into words what she means to me? How could I ever explain that she’s what keeps me going most days? If I do tell her how I feel- which I fear I must, it grows harder to hide each day- I do not know what she would think. She is beautiful and lovely and everything I’m not. Most of all, she has been my constant friend for years. I know if I confess my feelings to her, it will jeopardize our friendship. I pray to whatever God there might be that I don’t scare her off, whatever happens. Not sure I could bear that. I don’t dare dream that she will return my feelings, or else I am a bigger fool than I thought.

For a moment, it was your turn to be speechless and you hoped the dim lighting was hiding your blush better than it was Arthur’s. “Arthur… This is… I’ve wanted that-you… for years if I’m being honest.”

Arthur wanted to kick himself. He could have done this years ago? “Why didn’t you ever say nothin’?”

“Why didn’t you?” You deflected the question right back to him.

“Like I said… I am a fool sweetheart.” He placed his calloused hand on the back of your neck, searching your eyes for any sign of discomfort. When he found none, he leaned in and placed a deeper, more passionate kiss than the one you had given him earlier, and you returned it tenfold.

You were the first to break the kiss, “looks like we are just a pair of fools then.” You pressed your forehead against his, eyes fluttering closed. “I’d like that… to be yours Arthur.”

Arthur smiled, really smiled, for the first time in a while. You always made him feel like a real person, not a weapon nor a tool, that’s why he took to you so quickly to begin with. But now he felt it more than ever, it was like he was smiling deep within as well. He guided your back down to your bedroll, laying down by your side. “I’d love to be yours too sweetheart, if you’ll have me of course.”

You cradled his jaw before placing a kiss to his nose. You snuggled deeper into Arthur’s large frame, exhaling softly.

Arthur held you close, held you like he had always dreamed of. He wrapped his strong arms around your frame, loving the feeling of keeping you safe. “Goodnight darlin’.” He kissed your temple softly.

“Arthur… you really think the Murfrees will bother us here?” You murmured sleepily against your cowboy.

He chuckled softly, “they better pray they don’t. You just worry about sleepin’ sweetheart, I gotcha.”

You smiled, feeling safer than you have in years. You let yourself drift off to a sound slumber.

#rdr2 #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #red dead redemption 2 #rd2 #red dead redemption arthur #arthur morgan x female reader #red dead redemption x reader #arthur x reader

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cowboydisaster · 1 year

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The Fire In Your Eyes

part XIII: Clemens Point ii

pairing: Arthur Morgan x fem!reader word count: 10.1k summary: Arthur patches you up and makes good on his promise *wink wink*. Dutch insists you work with the Gray family, which leads you to a job gone wrong. a/n: long time no see. I'm excited to be back and to get this chapter out. love you guys so much and I'm still astounded by how many follow this series. ignore any typos, margo is sleeping hehe. lastly, i write most of this in may, but as for the rest, its been awhile since i wrote arthur so forgiive me if im a little rickety around the edges. warnings: nsfw, 18+, smut, minors dni, graphic violence, sexual themes. series masterpost │ masterlist

The sunlight filters through the cracks of your tent, casting the room in orange shadows. It's a surprisingly peaceful morning, and you awaken on your own instead of by a yelling Miss Grimshaw or some other camp ruckus. Your eyes flutter open slowly, landing on Arthur. You stay still so as not to alert him as you watch his form.

He's still dressed in his unbuttoned union suit, sitting in a chair with his ankle crossed over his knee. He faces you, but his face is scrunched up in concentration as he fixates on the journal in his lap. His hand works diligently, wrapped around a piece of charcoal as he details something on the worn pages. You smile, catching his eyes when he glances up to your cuddled up body.

"Didn't mean to wake ya." Arthur mumbles, folding his journal over his charcoal. It's a rarity that you get to sleep in, and Arthur had wanted to let you rest as long as possible.

"You didn't." You hum, smiling up at him as you prop your head up on your elbow, "Can I see?" You ask.

Arthur hesitates for only a fraction of a second before standing and sitting down on the bed beside you. It dips under his weight, and you lean into his shoulder as he passes the leather bound journal over to you.

Your fingers sift through the pages until you find the charcoal, and carefully, you open the little book. A smile tugs at your lips as you run your fingers over the drawing. It takes up two pages, a perfect sketch of you sleeping. Your hair is messy, with little wisps framing your face in an effortlessly beautiful crown. Your lips are plump from sleep as you cling to the thick blankets, you had hoped they were Arthur in your unconscious state. Your eyelashes are thick as your eyes lay closed, your body frozen in time in the little journal.

"Beautiful." You hum, eyes never leaving the pages. There's a few words written at the bottom of the page, and your eyes flicker to them.

'I reckon I'll be counting my lucky stars until the end of my days.'

"And I'll be countin' mine." You hum, looking up at him. The journal meets your lap as your hand cups his cheek. Arthur's hand covers your own, his warmth encasing you.

"You're too good for me." Arthur says, his. green eyes searching the depths of your own. Even after the time you've spent together, he struggles to comprehend why you've chosen him.

"I'm not." You counter as Arthur pulls your hand away from his face. He takes your smaller hand in his, looking down at your bruised and bloodied knuckles from when you'd beat the outlaw Anders Anderson.

"I was supposed to patch these up last night." Arthur raises an eyebrow at you as if it's your fault that you both forgot. You can't help it that you fell asleep, he was just too comfortable.

"They're fine, just a few scratches." You say as Arthur inspects the damage. Bruises blossom along your knuckles in purple and red splotches, and you wince as Arthur gently runs his thumb across them.

"This'll only take me a minute." He hums, reaching to his satchel to pull out a few items. He brings some cotton balls and a bottle of alcohol out. You watch on as Arthur kneels on the ground before you, pouring some of the alcohol onto the little swab. He puts the alcohol down before taking your hand in his own to examine your knuckles.

"This is gonna sting like hell." He warns, and you nod, letting him know to continue.

You groan through clamped teeth when the alcohol soaked cotton reaches the scrapes on your knuckles. It seeps through the cuts, burning you with a stinging blaze as it cleans your wounds. Arthur pulls the cotton away, eyes flickering up to you to make sure it doesn't hurt too bad.

"I'm okay." You reassure him. Arthur's eyes flicker down to your stomach before he continues cleaning up your hands. He remembers seeing Anders punch you in the gut, and he makes a note to check there too. You get used to the burning sensation when Arthur wipes away the blood from your other hand. He takes his time, working diligently with his eyebrows pulled together in focus.

When he deems your hands clean, he stands, extending his hand out to you. You take it, standing chest to chest as Arthur's hands silently find the hem of your chemise. You raise your arms as he pulls it over your head and tosses it to the ground. The silence is loud as Arthur runs his fingers between the valley of your breasts until they land on the bruised skin of your stomach. You shudder under his touch, hands sheepishly covering your breasts as he traces the pattern of forming bruises. His touch is so soft that you barely feel it, just a feather light trail along your exposed skin.

"He got you pretty good." Arthur mumbles.

"You got him a lot worse."

Arthur's fingers cause goosebumps to ripple across your skin, and he's not lost on the way your breathing quickens. His hands find purchase on your waist once he's checked you over, and you lean up to whisper in his ear.

"You broke your promise." You murmur into his ear. Your hands press against his chest, snaking under his union suit. Arthur's lips find your neck as his hands pull you closer to his body. He'd promised to spend the night with you last night, but you were both too tired. It seems like a perfect moment to call the favor in.

"Did I?" He teases, mumbling against your neck as he lightly nips the skin there. He knows exactly what he owes you. His hand slides up your ribs, thumb teasing your nipple in small circles. The feelings he gives you– god, wiping away your cuts and bruises one moment and sucking on your neck in the next. He fills you with butterflies, he fills you with need.

"Mhm." You moan as he kisses your pulsepoint. He can feel how your heart quickens under his touch, and he smirks at the realization.

"My apologies, miss." Arthur grumbles as your hands grip onto his union suit, sliding the cloth down over his shoulders. It hits the floor, wrapped around his ankles before he steps out of the material.

His hand runs down your hip to your entrance, and he runs his fingers over your folds through your underwear. It's only seconds before his lips meet yours, and his fingers hook under your waistband, pulling the rest of the clothing down. It meets the floor silently as Arthur's lips move against yours, and butterflies rise in your stomach at his touch. You moan into his mouth as he runs his tongue over your bottom lip, gently pulling away with a nip.

He nudges you back so softly, until the backs of your knees hit the bed with a gentle thud. You glance up to him as he cups your cheek, thumb running over the soft flesh on your cheekbone.

You love him. Looking up at him, you know it. You choke on emotion as he looks down at you with those sparkling green eyes. There's so much warmth in them, so much softness. You've never been cared for like he cares for you.

You lay back on the bed, extending your hand out for Arthur to take. His warm hand wraps around yours as he meets you on the bed, body lining overtop of you.

"Do we have a lot of time?" You whisper, hands gripping Arthur's hair as he kisses the trail between your breasts. You arch your back, looking for more of his lips.

"All the time in the world." He hums against your skin, teasing your nipple with his tongue. It's a new sensation, and you gasp as it sends a ripple of pleasure straight through your core. His hand kneads your other breast before his kisses trail back up to your neck.

"So perfect," He growls against your skin, gripping your waist tightly between his big hands, "My Star."

Your heart soars underneath him, and you catch his lips in one last sweet kiss before he pulls back to touch you. A few strands of Arthur's hair fall into his face, his lips are plump from your kisses and his eyes are shining. His muscles tighten beautifully as he adjusts, spreading your knees so gently that your heart skips a beat. You're still new at this, and Arthur plans on talking you through it to make sure you're comfortable. Even without him saying it, you know he will. He always does.

Arthur's fingers run along your folds, and you buck your hips to speed up his process. You should try to be quick, anyone could come along at any point and find you two, but Arthur can't bring himself to rush. It's been too long since he's had you, and he plans on taking his time.

You're soaking with need for him as Arthur slips his fingers into you. You moan, and your head tosses back as Arthur curls them slowly, tickling that sweet spot deep in you. Your hand searches for something to grip onto, settling on his less busy hand. You grip it tightly, and he interlocks your fingers together.

"How's this feel?" Arthur asks, glancing up to your face. There's a look of ecstasy there, pure bliss as your features relax and you bite your lip.

"Good." You hum, keeping your voice quiet to not alert anyone. Arthur chuckles as your hand tightens around his own, and his fingers keep a steady pace as his thumb meets the bud of nerves at your core.

He leans down to catch your lips, steadying himself on your interlocked hand. You moan into his mouth as he kisses you blind. You’ll never get used to letting yourself have this. His warmth wraps around your body, making you feel safe and loved. His fingers keep their slow pace, bringing you closer and closer to the brink of satisfaction as he holds you tightly underneath him. Your skin blazes with warmth at his touch, muscles tightening as he gives you everything you could have dreamed of.

“Still okay?” Arthur asks, pulling away from your lips for a second to speak in a low tone. You nod your head, pulling him down to you with your free hand. Your other hand lays interlocked with his beside your head, gripping him tightly in fear that if you let go he’ll disappear. It’s foolish, a bad habit.

“Yes–!” You gasp, stomach coiling before his hands finally send you over the edge. You squeeze his hand as you moan, coming undone. Arthur quickly kisses you, muffling your moans with his mouth so as not to alert anyone of the display you're making. His lips are gentle against your own, lovingly making yours bruised with kisses. Waves crash over you, stronger than the ocean's as you mewl and moan against Arthur's lips. Your legs tremble, toes curling as you pull away to gasp for breath. Arthur's fingers slip out of you, and his hand finds purchase on the mattress beside your head. With a smile on his lips, Arthur places a kiss to your forehead.

"I could do this all day." He hums deeply against your hair. There's nothing quite like watching you unfold, and it's a sight Arthur won't ever get enough of.

"Yes, but we can't." You counter, letting go of his hand to wrap both of yours around the back of his neck, pulling him down to you, "So hurry up. Y’know, it's rude to leave a lady waitin."

Arthur chuckles, and he leans down to press a quick kiss to your lips.

"Yes ma'am." He chuckles again, always astounded by your tongue. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him down to you. Never in your life have you let yourself be so vulnerable with someone, it's a shocking realization. You're not afraid of it anymore, you don't fight it. You'll happily trust fall into this relationship if he's the one catching you– which he always will be.

Arthur's already hard pressed from just watching and hearing you as he lines up with your entrance. You grip his shoulders in anticipation before he slowly slides in the whole way. You gasp, shuddering at the feeling of being so damn full.

"Y'okay?" Arthur asks as you wince from the stretch of it all.

"Yes. Please, move." You beg, digging your heels into him. He starts to move, sliding out just to come back in, slow and hard. Your eyes fall closed and you bite your lip to stop the moans from falling out. Anyone could walk past and hear. Hell, even the bed creaking might alert someone.

Your eyelashes flutter open, eyes locking onto his for a moment as your heart skips a beat. He's so perfect. His arms flex and strain beautifully as he holds himself above you. His green eyes flicker over your body, making sure you're comfortable and enjoying yourself, drinking your body in all the while.

His tanned skin is covered with a thin sheen of sweat. You can't help the way you pull him down to you, pressing your lips to his neck. Arthur groans as you kiss the sensitive spot, and again as your lips part, nibbling on his earlobe.

"You feel so damn good." You whimper as the bed rocks. Arthur grips the small headboard to silence it, and you watch as his muscles flex above your head. He uses the headboard for leverage, thrusting into you harder. You place your wrist over your mouth to silence your moans as he loves you with reckless abandon.

A slow fluttering starts in your core, spreading out as Arthur's thrusts get harder. He's losing his composure, and you watch as his eyes occasionally squint shut, or his mouth falls open and closes again before he can make any noise. It's a shame, having to be so quiet.

"You're–" Arthur purses his lips to stop from groaning, "Such a good girl."

Good girl? It does something to you, ignites a fire under your skin as you grip onto him.

"Say that again." You mewl, head tossing back. Arthur recounts what he's just said, putting two and two together as your nails scratch at his back and your hips buck to meet his.

"That's my good girl." Arthur smirks, happily uncovering this information. You snap, unfolding beneath him completely once his thumb starts to brush against your clit. You try not to think about Arthur's past partners, but you subconsciously thank them for teaching him what he knows because damn– he knows.

"Oh, Arthur–" You begin.

Arthur's hand lets go of the head board and clamps over your mouth, muffling your noises. His hand is big, covering your entire mouth and forcing you to breathe through your nose. If anything, it only spurs you on further.

"Darlin', you know I love hearin' you say my name, but you gotta be quiet." Arthur shushes, but it's a moot point. Your eyes roll back, legs clamping around Arthur as stars fill your vision and pleasure rolls over you like the lapping shores of Flat Iron Lake. Arthur's hand muffles all the noises that he wishes he could hear while he thinks about how he'll need to get you both a hotel room soon.

Contrary to what he's saying about keeping you quiet, he begins pounding into you hard. He's close. Watching you finish proves to be his undoing as he fights back groans, letting go of your mouth to replace his hand with his lips. Your tongues collide as your lips slot together, and both of your moans mix as you muffle each other's noises. You come down just as Arthur slips out, shooting his spend on your spread thighs.

“Christ.” Arthur pants, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You squeeze his hand lightly before he stands from the bed to get you a towel.

“What a way to start the morning.” You hum, propping your head on your hand. Your eyes run over his naked form, and you smirk as the planes of his back flex.

"You practically jumped me. Weren't my fault." Arthur chuckles, bringing the towel over to clean you up.

"I did not!" You defend, smacking him lightly. Arthur chuckles, tossing the towel in his little hamper.

"Whatever you say." Arthur jokes as your jaw falls playfully. You huff, not minding him as you stand up to get ready.

After getting dressed and cleaned up, you and Arthur head out of his tent together. It’s still early, but mostly everyone else is awake, save for Uncle and Reverend.

“I’ll get you some coffee.” Arthur mumbles, hand on the small of your back before he leaves you to get the percolator from Pearson’s tent.

“Thank you.” You smile, eyes scanning over camp to see where everyone is. Charles and John sit at the fire, and you make your way over as you place your black hat atop your head. John and Charles laugh over something as you walk towards them, taking a seat on the other side of the fire.

“Boys.” You greet, digging your boot into the dirt. John has a cigarette between his lips and a cup of coffee in his hand, and Charles is sharpening his hunting knife by the fire.

“Where you been all morning? We had to listen to Grimshaw’s nagging for the last half hour.” John asks and you blush, looking down at your hands.

“Just slept in is all.” You lie, perking up as Arthur walks across camp with two steaming cups of joe.

“There he is.” Charles hums as Arthur sits down beside you on the log. He hands you the metal cup of coffee, and you wrap your hands around the warm mug, cherishing the way its heat sinks into your bones.

“What you boys been up to since we got down here?” Arthur asks before his lips meet the rim of his mug and he drinks down some of his coffee. You’re distracted from the conversation when a little hand tugs at the back of your shirt. The conversation continues on as you turn around with a smile on your face.

“Hey Jack.” You greet as the young boy walks around the log to the front. Without warning, he crawls up into your lap, curling up. You place your coffee on the ground, brushing your fingers through the boy’s hair.

“How you likin’ the new camp?” You ask, looking down at him. You feel bad for Jack. All he's done his whole life is move from place to place, no home besides a bedroll on the ground. His family, the gaggle of outlaws, is falling apart before him, and he has nothing but the clothes on his back to cling to.

“It’s okay! I like the water. Momma lets me play in the lake, and she’s even teaching me how to swim!” Jack smiles, beaming with pride as he looks at the lake behind you.

“Is she?” You smile warmly as Jack nods.

“Yep! It’s so fun, but I think my Papa is afraid of the water… he never comes in.” Jack’s eyebrows furrow as he thinks about John and his fear of water, and you giggle. John’s attention falls on you both then, and his face scrunches up in something similar to offense mixed with humor.

“Hey, I ain’t afraid of the water.” John huffs, shaking his head. Arthur laughs out loud, joining the conversation as well.

“Sure Y’ain’t! Remember that time back in New Austin you fell into that–” He looks to Charles, “What was it?”

“Lake Don Julio.” Charles replies with a smirk.

“Yeah, that's it. You fell into Lake Don Julio n’ everyone had to gather round to scoop your sorry ass out.” Arthur laughs, and Jack giggles in your lap.

“I–” John tries to come up with some defense, “My horse bucked me, weren’t my fault, and that water was deep.”

You all laugh as John’s cheeks burn red as the flames of the campfire, and he shakes his head.

“It’s alright, John. We can have the boy teach you to swim.” Arthur chuckles, gesturing to Jack. Arthur’s eyes linger on you for a moment, taking in the sight of Jack in your arms. It comes so naturally to you, being around children. They love you. It makes his heart warm and ache just the same.

“I hate to break up all the fun, but there’s work to be done.” A booming voice calls from across camp. Your eyes flicker up to Dutch, stomping forward through camp with some plan sparkling in his eyes. You sigh, placing Jack’s feet on the ground as he jogs off towards his tent.

“We was just talkin.” John says, standing from his seat and dusting off his knees. Everyone looks to Dutch as he scans around the fire, taking in the four of you. His hands are on his belt as he eyes you and Arthur.

“You two." Dutch points at you and then Arthur, "I want you poking around the Gray's today. Go down to the jail and pay our dear friend, the Sheriff, a visit. See what you can find." Dutch orders. You nod, grabbing your cup of coffee from the ground to swig down the last of it.

"Hosea is already at the Braithwaite’s. He mentioned something about moonshine. I'll have you both workin' with him in no time. We're gonna play these folk like fiddles, hit them from both sides and they'll be none the wiser." Dutch says with his chest puffed. He's proud of his plan no doubt, foolish as it is.

The names Gray and Braithwaite cause so much ruckus around here, and no one messes with those families for a reason. Leave it to Dutch to poke the bear. You're not so sure about playing both families, but Dutch is the leader, after all. You know when to keep your mouth shut, and now is certainly one of those times. You place your coffee cup into your satchel before standing from the log, stretching your knees as you do.

"Alright, guess it wouldn't hurt to just talk to the feller. Maybe he'll even have some more work. Star, you up for more outlaw chasin'?" Arthur chuckles.

"Still recoverin' from the last one, but sure!" You smirk, grabbing your satchel and swinging it over your shoulder.

"Don't make any noise in town, just get on the Sheriff's good side." Dutch says as he backs away, turning to head back to his tent.

"Sure." You remark quietly, turning to look at John and Charles, "I'll catch you boys later."

They nod as you wait for Arthur to grab his things, and then head off towards the hitching posts. Athena and Balius are there waiting for you, but surprisingly they aren't saddled like you'd expected them to be. Your eyebrows pull together as you look around for Kieran.

A smile blossoms on your lips, and you grab Arthur's shirt to pull his attention to where you're looking.

He turns, watching the scene play out with furrowed brows.

Kieran and Marybeth sit side by side on the blanket under her canopy, smiling and chatting with each other. There's a book in Marybeth's hands, but it's folded closed over her thumb. Her attention is too focused on Kieran to worry about the silly story. Kieran is nervously rambling, shaking his head, and smiling like a schoolboy.

"You think they're sweet on one another?" You ask, looking up at Arthur. He huffs.

"Marybeth and that damn O'Driscoll. Who woulda thought?" Arthur exclaims, shaking his head. You’re not sure that he approves of the apparent relationship between the two, but he did save Kieran, so that has to count for something.

“He ain’t an O’Driscoll– at least not anymore. He’s not so bad, actually.” You hum, watching on for a moment longer before walking towards Athena. She’s near the posts, unhitched, munching on a bale of hay with Balius. The scarred shire horse nudges your mare’s nose affectionately as they share the foliage. It brings a sweet smile to your lips.

“Look, even these two are courtin’ each other. What the hell’s in the water?” Arthur chuckles, placing his hand under Balius’s jaw to lead the horse to the post. He follows with little instruction, and you whistle for Athena to come to you. You grab her bridle from the post, sliding the bit in her mouth before fastening her chin strap. The mare looks good. You run your hand down her body, checking over her for anything out of sorts. She whinnies lightly, shaking her head as you scratch her croup.

“Is there a stable in Rhodes?” You ask, leaning down to pick up Athena’s hoof. Her shoes have grown out a little further than you’d like, she's definitely due for a new pair.

Arthur runs a brush along Balius’s body, getting rid of any dirt as he coos to the stallion. He turns at your question, seeing the overgrown hooves that you’re looking at.

“No, the nearest one is up by the stateline. We’ll get up there soon enough, Balius is fixin’ for a new set of shoes too.” Arthur explains, and you nod.

You grab your saddle pad and saddle together, and carefully swing them over Athena’s back. You tie her saddle with a perfect texas t before checking all the straps. Arthur is still tacking Balius up, and you seize the moment to feed Athena an oatcake from your satchel.

“Here girl.” You mumble to the mare, petting her nose as she munches on the treat.

“You comin’?” Arthur asks, swinging himself into the saddle. You climb onto Athena, sticking your boot into your stirrup.

“I guess.” You chuckle, thinking about going back to Rhodes. You’re not sure how Dutch thinks you’re going to become Sheriff Leigh Gray’s new best friend, but you’ll try nonetheless.

“Ladies first.” Arthur hums, and you roll your eyes as you pass him on the trail out of camp. Sean is on guard duty, and he makes sure to give you some hell as you pass by. Other than him, the ride goes smooth. No Lemoyne Raiders get in your way, which you’re thankful for. Athena is a bit more sensitive than usual on account of her shoes, but other than that the ride to Rhodes is good.

You pull your mare up to the hitching post outside of the jail and hop down with a slight wince. You’ve barely recovered from your last wild goose chase, and here you are, back at the jail to pick up more work. Rhodes isn’t too busy on account of the time, which you’re thankful for. Arthur gives Balius a pat for his work before stepping towards you with a smile.

“Ready?” He asks, hand settling on the small of your back as he leads you up the steps.

“Sure am.” You chuckle. Arthur grabs the old brass door handle and pulls it open, holding it open for you. You walk through the threshold, squinting as your eyes adjust to the change in light. Leigh Gray, the sheriff, sits in his chair with his boots up on his desk. His hands are occupied with the day’s paper as he glances up to you two.

“You’re back! Y’know I never did catch your names yesterday.” The sheriff points out, slapping his paper down on the desk. He swings his feet down to the ground, standing up to shake Arthur’s hand.

Arthur quickly scans the room, finding a collection of posters on the wall. They’re all advertisements, and Arthur hones in on one for ‘Callahan’s Confectionery’.

“Arthur Callahan,” Arthur introduces his newfound alias all the while shaking the hand of the sheriff, “and the missus.” Arthur introduces you as his wife, and a blush forms across your cheeks. Sheriff Gray tips his hat to you as you hide your hands behind your back to avoid any questions about the lack of a ring.

“Well, Mr. Callahan, how can I help you on this fine morning?” The Sheriff asks. He seems nervous. Sweat clings to his brow and dark circles line under his eyes. You assume the Anderson boy has been giving him trouble, and there’s also the apparent problem with the Gray’s son and that Braithwaite girl.

“That's actually what we came to ask you. We’re lookin’ to help out.” Arthur explains, taking a few steps forward. Arthur doesn’t mean to intimidate the man, but the sheriff takes a few steps back anyway. You wonder how he’s managed to remain in office for so long without getting killed or worse. He seems pretty yellow-bellied for the job.

“You need work? Well I’m glad you came to me. It’s always better to work for a Gray than a stinkin’, degenerate Braithwaite.”

Arthur’s tongue lines his cheek as he fights the urge to roll his eyes at the goddamn feud tearing these people apart.

“Of course.” Arthur replies.

“Y’know… there’s this bastard I’ve been meaning to grab. He’s gone out of state, but I want him. He killed my second cousin Gertrude, you see.” The Sheriff begins. His eyes almost glaze over as he gets lost in his story, “She was lookin’ for medicine, but this man– he is a no good fellow. He sells poison as medicine. Y’know, my great grandfather was a doctor? When we was kids he used to–” Sheriff Gray rambles on before Arthur rolls his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose with one hand and interrupting the annoying man.

“Listen, mister, no disrespect, but just tell me who he is and where to find him.” Arthur grumbles, irritated with the fool. The Sheriff doesn’t look too hurt by Arthur’s interruption, and you assume his ramblings are frequently cut short.

“His name is Benedict Allbright. He’s a peculiar looking fella, came from the city after pitching his miracle cure. He's been seen near Valentine, you know of it?” The Sheriff asks, to which you nod your head dejectedly.

“Yeah, we know it.” You sigh, glancing up at Arthur.

“He’s near the Dakota River, camping out on the cliffs. I need him alive.” Sheriff Gray gives you the details before slumping back into his chair and picking the newspaper back up. You nod, turning to head out the door, but Sheriff Gray turns your attention back to him.

"Oh! Almost forgot– there's a festival bein' held. Rhodes' 75th anniversary. Here. You're welcome to join, it's supposed to be a good time." The Sheriff says, grabbing a pamphlet from his desk drawer. Your eyebrows pull together as you accept the paper, running your eyes over the festivities. Games, food, candy, and shows, it seems like a good time, so long as the feud settles down enough for the town to get along.

"Well, thank you. You can count on us bein' there." Arthur hums before tipping his hat. "And Allbright? Well, I reckon we'll have him back to you in no time."

The Sheriff holds up a hand in a half attempt at a wave as you and Arthur exit the jail. As soon as you're out of earshot, you grip Arthur's arm, forcing him to turn around.

"'You can count on us bein' there'? Are you sure goin' to this festival is a good idea?" You ask, holding the pamphlet out to Arthur. He takes the paper, running his tongue over his thumb before flipping the page.

"It'll get us more information, and hell, it might be fun." Arthur replies, eyes running over the list of vendors. Your eyebrows pull together, and a hand on his bicep pulls his attention back to you.

"We got an alias to keep up now. The Callahans? We gotta be careful with that, Arthur. And with Hosea playin' the other side like he is? I don't know if havin' a good time in the middle of town is the attention we need right now." You point out, tone hushed to avoid eavesdroppers. Arthur nods his head, eyes flickering up to yours. He sees the worry clouding your eyes, and his hand comes up to cup your cheek, thumb running over your cheekbone.

"C'mon, where's that fire?" Arthur asks and your face falls, "We got this, it's just a festival. We get a little information, and we have a good time. An evenin' away from camp, havin' fun like decent folk do. It'll be good for us."

You lean into his touch, letting out a breath at his reassurance.

"I'm just so afraid they're gonna find us again…" You admit, and Arthur's smile falters at the sight of your worries. You're talking about the Pinkertons of course. After Valentine, any noise is bad noise.

"They won't. I won't let 'em hurt you, Star." Arthur mumbles, eyes searching the pain on your face and wishing that they could reassure you. He means every word of his promise. He will not let the Pinkertons lay a damned finger on you.

But it does sound like a good time. A day away, enjoying yourselves like a normal couple might, sharing fine treats and walking down the main street hand in hand. It's a simple pleasure, something an average couple might do, but you and Arthur are certainly not an average couple.

"Fine, when is it?" You ask, peeking towards the pamphlet in his hands. He unfolds the paper flaps, locating the date in red, bold letters.

"Next week." He states, tapping his finger against the paper.

"It's a date. But c'mon, let's go get this bastard first." You say, nudging Arthur towards the horses. They’re waiting patiently, tails swatting away unwanted flies as they take turns drinking from the trough. You walk side by side with Arthur, chuckling at a pair of foxhounds playing in the rust colored dirt.

“You ever bounty hunted before?” Arthur asks, taking his reins from the hitching post and swinging them over Balius’s neck.

“No.” You huff. You’ve been on the wrong side of the law for a while now. It never occurred to you to hunt down other outlaws. It’s also a two or more man job, you’d neve tackle a bounty alone.

“We can make it there in a day. We misewell stop at the stables on the way too, get everyone new shoes.” Arthur hums. He slips his boot into his stirrup in time with you as you both swing up into the saddle. Athena paws at the ground impatiently until you squeeze her sides to walk down the main road.

“Do we have everything we need?” You ask. Surely you’ll need something to tie Allbright up with, a lasso or bolas. You’re not sure what else bounty hunting entails, but you feel underprepared.

“Yeah, I got everythin’ on me. We’ll spend the night up there, ride back in the mornin.” Arthur calls to you, his drawl thick. Being back in the south has made his accent a little stronger, and you smile for it.

“How exactly does this help us with the Grays?” You ask. Going on a wild goose chase seems odd, especially considering that you’re supposed to be gathering intel on the Grays. Instead, you’re heading back to Valentine, the town that almost got you all killed a handful of weeks ago.

“Well, Dutch wants us on their good side, so we’ll do what the sheriff says n’ hope he gives us somethin.”

You bite your tongue. It seems above Arthur’s station to go out running around for Dutch. You’d think that after being his right hand man for twenty years, Dutch could send someone else out on these jobs.

“You his errand boy now?” You bite. The words slip out, and your eyes fall shut as you cringe, awaiting his snap.

“Excuse me?” Arthur’s eyes squint as he turns around in his saddle to look at you sternly.

“Listen, I didn’t mean nothin’ by it, but couldn’t he have sent one of the other boys? I mean, shouldn’t you be in camp plannin’ with Dutch?”

The words cut Arthur deep. He’s not upset with you, he’s upset because you’re right. Micah is probably back from Downes’ Ranch by now, whispering lies into Dutch’s ear. It should be Arthur by Dutch’s side. Arthur locks his jaw, pushing the thoughts away.

“It ain’t like that, Star. We all gotta do our part.” He counters, still in denial about the whole thing.

“Hey.” You call softly, trotting Athena up to Balius’s side. You reach over and grab Arthur’s hand, squeezing it encouragingly, “You’re right, we all gotta do our part… I’m sorry.”

Arthur stops his horse and squeezes your hand back.

“I’m just glad to be with ya, darlin’. Now c’mon, stable ain’t far.” Arthur whispers, nodding Northwest.

— — — —

Balius and Athena each get new shoes, a proper grooming, and plenty of provisions for the road. They look incredible, and you tip the stable hand nicely for his work. After their pampering, you hit the road towards Valentine, though you'd rather be headed anywhere else. Arthur takes care to avoid the town, riding on the outskirts to evade any lingering law.

He leads you in the direction of the cliffs, and the paths get more and more narrow the higher you descend.

"I don't like this, Arthur. We should leave the horses here." You point out, heart pounding as you look at the water below the cliff's edge. Athena prances nervously, tossing her head and pawing at the ground.

"Alright, we'll walk the rest. Shouldn't be far." Arthur agrees, dismounting before walking further up the slope.

A little fire comes into view, you can see the smoke rising above the cliff that you’re climbing up. You try not to look down and see the Dakota River below. It splashes and rages forward, waves crashing against rocks and splashing up in crystal-like pebbles of water. You swallow thickly, stomach churning as you follow Arthur.

“Try not to look down.” Arthur grunts, and you nod.

“Easier said than done.” You huff, keeping your footsteps calculated. Arthur uses two fingers to signal that Allbright is ahead, and you hunch down.

You and Arthur see the bounty before he sees you. He's hunched over a small campfire on the rocks, poking at the flames with a stick. His movements cause embers and smoke to waft up to the dark sky in flecks. You focus on the embers to distract yourself from the turmoil below.

He is an oddly dressed man, clearly from the city. Allbright is adorned in a blue suit with a matching top hat. A small pair of spectacles sit on the bridge of his large nose, giving sight to beady, dark eyes. You step closer to him, looking up at Arthur for instruction.

"Follow my lead." He whispers back to you and you nod.

Arthur stands up tall then, pushing his shoulders back and you see as a new persona falls over him. You can understand why Hosea is always pushing Arthur to act more, he's a natural. Arthur strides forward until he's just near the edge of Allbright's camp.

"You Benedict Allbright?" Arthur asks loudly, stepping forward. You follow, staying a step behind and to the side of Arthur.

Allbright's head snaps up in shock and he immediately stands from the fire, backing away from the two of you. He drops his poking stick to the ground, and it catches on fire, burning up against the rock trail.

"N-no!" Allbright shakes his head. You can see the panic in his eyes, you can hear the tremble in his voice.

"You look a lot like him." You say plainly, eyeing up and down his suit. The bright colors nearly give you a headache, and you wonder why anyone would spend such an amount of money on such odd clothes, "And we were told he'd be up here." You add.

Benedict Allbright takes a step back, almost plastering himself against the rock wall. He shakes his head nervously. When you look up at Arthur for a game plan, your eyebrows draw together. He looks… sad, crestfallen even.

"You see, we were hopin' to buy some medicine from him." Arthur sighs, dejected. His head falls lightly and he grips your hand.

"My mother in law, she's real sick." Arthur says.

Damn he's good.

You copy his downtrodden look, teary eyes flickering up to Allbright in one final plea.

"We'll pay in gold if you help us, mister." You beg, a faux tear slipping down your cheek.

Allbright lights up like a damn Christmas tree. A smile forms across his lips as he points his index fingers to the sky.

"If it's for a sick woman, I'd be happy to help!" He chimes. You watch on as he shuffles towards his bedroll, rummaging through a bag there. He pulls out a shimmering, dark green bottle, looking like any other tonic.

"This is the finest medicine in the state, ma'am. I'm a healer, you know, a medical man!" He smiles, sick and twisted as he hands you the poison.

You take the glass from him with a smile, but it promptly falls as you drop the bottle and let it shatter all over the ground. A scowl etches onto your face as you nod for Arthur to grab the bastard.

"It's over, mister." Arthur grumbles, leaning forward and grabbing Albright's revolver from its holster. He tosses the weapon over the cliff ledge, and it falls down into the violent waters. Arthur unholsters his own gun, pointing it at Allbright. The fear of God enters Albright's eyes as he realizes he's been duped.

"What?!" Allbright hisses, backing away from Arthur. His back is almost on the rock wall, and he glances around for a way to escape.

"Apparently that stuff you're sellin' is killin' folk. I don't know, ain't my business." Arthur grumbles. He leans forward to grab Allbright's wrist, but the older man jumps away. He skips around the fire until his back is at the cliff's edge. You take a step closer to him.

"I'm a healer! I've got an aura, I speak to spirits!" Allbright yells, looking around for any escape route or a weapon, "I'm a–"

"a lunatic." You huff, rolling your eyes, "Give it up."

He backs away, heel dangerously close to the edge. One wrong move and he'll be down in the dangerous waters. Your heart rate picks up as you take another step forward.

"Careful, Star." Arthur warns, deeply.

"I'm a scientist, this is a mistake!" Allbright yells just as you reach out to grab onto his coat. It backfires, and he grips tightly onto your hair. You yelp as he pulls you against him. Your back is pulled tightly against Allbright's chest and something cold and sharp presses against your neck. You gasp as it knicks you, realizing he pulled a knife.

"I'll– I'll go over the edge and take her with me!" Allbright stutters and yells.

"Allbright!!" Arthur roars, stepping forward. the bounty steps back, and you whimper as rocks and gravel fall off the cliff's edge from his boots. Arthur steps back, hands up as his heart races. His eyes are locked onto yours.

"Let me go!" You hiss, but he presses the knife tighter against your throat. You have to strain your neck back against his chest to avoid the sharp blade.

"Goddammit, let her go, or I swear to god–" Arthur begins, panic thick in his voice. Allbright chuckles, realizing that he's in the position of power now.

"We can deal with this like men, leave the lady out of it." Arthur pleads, turning the barrel of his gun up towards the sky. Your nails dig into Albright's arm as you attempt to pull it away from your throat. You gasp, terrified. The thought of going down over the cliff sends your body into a panicked state, and your eyes beg Arthur to find a way out of this.

"I'm not going with you, bounty hunter!" Allbright hollers. His neck cranes around, looking down at the violent crash of waves below him. Arthur's eyes are wide as he extends a hand out to you. You try to grab it, but Allbright steps back, dragging you with him.

"I'll take my chances jumping." Allbright states.

"Arthur!" You yelp, right before Allbright drags you back once more.

Suddenly the ground is gone from below your feet. You feel yourself falling, and you scream for Arthur once more. You're not sure if you're going to die, you don't have much time to think about it, but you hope it won't be too painful if you do. The rocks below you are almost as threatening as the dark water. Your hands extend toward the sky, gripping and searching for anything to hang onto. Of course, there is nothing.

"Star!!" You hear Arthur roar from above, and your eyes slip shut in pain. You should've told him, should've said that you love him.

You hear Allbright splash into the water, and you know that it'll only be seconds until you crash. You squeeze your eyes shut, bracing for the impact.

An unimaginable pain courses through your body when you make contact with the water. It's like ice, causing your muscles to seize and contract painfully. The water's intensity causes you to flip and spin. You fight to swim to the top, but the river is carrying you downstream quickly and you're not sure which way is up. Your lungs burn in search of air, and you choke on water as you fight to breach the top.

It's a fight, but just as your vision begins to fill with white stars from lack of oxygen, you breach the surface. Your arms work to keep you afloat as you gasp and choke on air. There's too much water in your lungs and you can't breathe. Your movements are sluggish and exhausted, but you fight nonetheless.

The shore passes by quickly as the river carries you downstream. You try to scream for Arthur, but it comes out weak. The ice cold water makes your body rigid, and you struggle to keep yourself afloat.

"Stay up, keep fightin'!"

At the sound of Arthur's voice, you perk up. Your eyes scan the shore and lock onto Balius galloping down the rocky trail.

"I'm comin!" He yells. You try to take his instruction, really you do, but the water is so cold and you feel it pulling you down. You can barely hang on, arms burning from keeping yourself afloat.

"Grab on!" Arthur yells over the crashing water. Your wet eyelashes flutter open, and you see Arthur's lasso in the water ahead of you.

"Star, c'mon! You gotta grab on, please!" Arthur pleads. You stick your hand through the loop, and it tightens around your wrist. Water burns in your lungs as stars fill your vision and everything slowly fades to black.

— — — —

A rhythmic thumping pounds in your chest, wracking your entire body. Your eyes flutter open as you wake up, and you turn onto your side, retching up cold, salty water. You gasp for breath, coughing as Arthur's hands pull away from your chest to rub up and down your back.

"Shit, Star. I thought I lost you." Arthur's voice radiates from beside you, and your wet eyelashes flutter as you look up at him. You're splayed uncomfortably in the grass, and you pull your knees up to your chin as you shiver, gasping for air.

"Goddammit, I'm so sorry I brought ya up here." Arthur whispers, heart racing.

"I'm s-so c-cold." You whisper, teeth chattering loudly. Arthur's thumb runs over your cheek as he worriedly looks over your too pale face. Your lips are nearly blue, and wet strands of hair stick to your freezing skin.

"I know. I'll get you into town, but you gotta get out of these wet clothes lest you freeze on the way."

Arthur takes your hands, helping you to your feet. Your bones ache from being so cold and overworked, and when you look down you notice the rope burn searing on your left wrist from Arthur pulling you in. It all comes back to you then, and you glance at the crashing waters while Arthur rummages in Balius's saddle bags.

"Where's Allbright?" You whisper, and Arthur shakes his head.

"I don't know, n' I don't give a damn. I gotta get you fixed up." Arthur says, bringing you over a pile of clothes. They’re his, but they're all he has to work with.

"I'll take you into town n' get you a bath. If we stay out here, you'll freeze." Arthur grumbles, placing the clothes on the ground before coming up in front of you. His hands quickly work on the buttons of your shirt, and you lean into his touch, feeling the warmth of his hands against your frozen skin. You whimper, leaning against him to chase after his warmth.

"Christ, Star. You're freezin'."

He sounds worried. He is worried. You shake like a leaf as he pulls your shirt over your arms. The wet clothing hits the ground in a sop as he kneels on one knee to unbutton your jeans. He's not worried about modesty right now, Arthur is too panicked about your health.

You wiggle your toes in your boots and shudder, realizing that you can barely feel the movements. Teeth clack together loudly as Arthur strips you of your jeans, eyebrows pulled together in concern.

"I c-can't feel my t-toes." You whimper, worrying that you'll lose them or worse.

"You just hang on, just– I'll get you there. I will." It's a promise more to himself than to you. He pulls his oversized clothes over your trembling body, adding his thick blue coat to your shoulders before scooping you up wedding style. You yelp at the action as he helps you onto Balius's saddle.

"Be good for me, boy. We gotta ride quick now." Arthur coos to his stallion before mounting up behind you. Your head lulls back against Arthur's chest as his arms wrap around you to grab the reins. At the mention of Balius, your eyes pop open wider and you search around for your mare.

"Athena…" You whisper, just barely a breath. Arthur whistles sharply, and a whinny rings out alongside the sound of hooves. You relax at her call, knowing she'll follow Balius.

You can barely keep your eyes open as Arthur pushes Balius into a gallop. Arthur doesn't like it one bit, knowing that your best chance is to keep your eyes open.

"Don't go fallin' asleep on me now. We'll be there soon." Arthur attempts a smile for your sake, but the worry in his voice is thick.

You fight against every instinct to keep your eyes open. It would be so much easier to give in and let them fall shut. For Arthur's sake, you keep trying.

"Look for Allbright…" You exhale quietly, "He c-could be on the shore."

Arthur isn't surprised by your suggestion. Of course you haven't given up on the bounty. For you, he scans the shore, but it's your eyes that eventually lock on to the blue suited man. He's washed up on the shore, coughing and sputtering.

"Goddamn you, bounty hunters!" Allbright yells at the sight of Arthur and you riding forward. Arthur's attention peaks to Allbright then, and a growl rumbles in his chest.

"Get the bastard." You whisper, too weak to let out the hiss you want to. Arthur makes sure you're good and steady in the saddle before he dismounts. His hands rest on your thigh as he looks up to you.

"Y'okay to sit without me? We can leave him here and get you to a–" Arthur begins before you interject.

"I'm okay, just get him n' put him on Athena."

At your words, Arthur obliges, though he thinks it to be a damn stupid idea. He flips his gun out of his holster and swings it down over Allbright's head. The bastard is knocked out cold. His many layers and heavier stature seemed to have protected him mostly from the freezing water. Arthur doesn't give a damn about the man, only you. He whistles for Athena to step a little closer and hoists the bounty over her back behind the saddle.

"Is Allbright gonna be okay?" You whisper, gripping onto Arthur tightly as he quickly climbs into Balius's saddle.

"I ain't worried 'bout him." Arthur replies as he smacks the reins down over Balius's neck. He rides fast, galloping over the hills as fast as Balius can carry you both in the night. Your hands grow colder, stiffening around Arthur's jacket and making it harder to grip onto to. He notices this, of course, and his heart beats quicker. Your eyelids are heavy, the overwhelming, hardening cold creeping up your spine and down your bones. Everything stiffens and hurts, making the ride to Valentine a painful one. You yelp, wincing, and Arthur's arm tightens around you

"Oh, baby, just hang on. We're almost there." Arthur whispers, despair thick in his voice.

Arthur gets you there as quickly as he can manage, apologizing to you and Balius the whole way. You're both glad it's after dark once you arrive in town, as you still have a mighty price on your heads after the fiasco with Cornwall. Arthur ducks his head, keeping his eyes under his hat as he trots towards the hotel. Athena is right behind you both, still carrying Allbright.

"How you feelin', darlin'?" Arthur whispers, pulling Balius up to the hitching post in front of the All Saints Hotel. You groan in response. The cold has seeped into your bones, tightening your muscles uncomfortably. Your muscles twitch and cramp under your frozen skin, and your toes and fingers are numb.

"Tired." You admit, just over a whisper. Your eyes have fallen shut and you're leaning fully against Arthur's back at this point. You can hear his heart beating a few paces too fast with worry. He turns in the saddle and places a hand on your thigh to steady you before sliding down from his stallion. He hitches both horses, and turns to you.

"C'mere." He calls up to you, hands up stretched to grab your waist. Arthur pulls you into his arms wedding style. You wince at every jolt as he carries you up the few stairs towards the hotel. You get a glance over Arthur's shoulder and see Allbright, still heaved over Athena's rump. Your eyebrows furrow as you look up at Arthur.

"What about…" You take a deep breath, struggling to keep yourself awake, "Allbright?"

Arthur readjusts you in his arms, turning around to push the door open with his back.

"He ain't wakin' up anytime soon. I'll deal with him once I get you taken care of." Arthur replies, stepping backwards through the threshold before turning to the usual clerk. The man's eyes go wide as he takes in your state.

"You got a bath drawn up?" Arthur asks, walking towards the hallway where the bathhouse is. He doesn't stop, carrying you down the hall as the clerk worriedly hollers 'Yes!' from behind you.

Arthur pushes the door open with his back again, carrying you into the bathhouse. The bath is filled with steaming water, and you practically whimper at the sight of warmth. Arthur carefully places you on your feet, steadying you for a second with his hands on your shoulders. He eyes you up and down, making sure you're steady.

"Y'okay to stand?" He asks as you sway slightly. You nod, and he steps away for a moment to grab a washcloth and a bar of soap from the little wooden table by the door. He places both on the small wooden slat overtop the bath as you attempt to pull Arthur's oversized clothes off of your body. Your numb fingers pull at the buttons, but they're too frozen to properly grasp the little articles.

Arthur turns back to you, and in two long strides, he's in front of you again, brushing your hands away.

"Let me." He murmurs, eyes downcast as he focuses on each button. He rids you of the shirt quickly, noticing the way your skin feels like ice. It only encourages his worry, and he works faster to unclothe you.

Once you're bare before him, Arthur's hands find purchase on the small of your back and your arm, helping to steady you as you step into the tub. You grimace when your toe hits the water. The cold state of your skin makes the hot water feel boiling, it's downright painful.

"I know, darlin', but it's the fastest way to warm you up." Arthur says, noticing your hesitation. You nod, stepping one leg into the hot water. It's painful, but bearable. Arthur lets you grip onto him as you lower yourself into the bath, groaning at the fiery sensation that ripples across your skin.

"There you go." He whispers as you finally sit down fully. Your teeth chatter, and you pull your knees up to your chest in the sudsy water. Now it's just a waiting game.

Arthur sits on the ground by your side, hand resting over yours on the lip of the tub. He watches you closely, taking note of your breathing and shivering. His thumb runs over your knuckles and you smile for it, but it's brief. You're still shivering, and goosebumps prick your skin all over. It's nothing short of miserable, and while the warm water has helped, you're too far gone for it to fully bring your temperature back to normal.

Your eyes flutter open at the sound of clothes hitting the floor, and when you glance over,Arthur is pulling his jeans down over his legs.

"Arthur…?" You ask, brow furrowing lightly.

"I can't just sit and do nothin' no more. It's killin' me seein' you like this." Arthur explains, "Scooch forward for me, sweetheart."

You grip the sides of the metal tub, pulling yourself forward, just enough for Arthur to slide into the bath behind you. The mass of his body entering the tub causes water to spill out over the edges, but he doesn’t mind. He’ll slip the working ladies a few extra bucks for the mess. A large forearm wraps around your middle, and Arthur pulls your back flush against his chest in the water. His legs line yours, bodies fitting together like perfect pieces of a puzzle.

“Better?” Arthur whispers, eyes worried as he splashes water over your shoulders with your hands. Guilt is eating him alive– Should he have let you come along? Did he get you here fast enough?

You nod, easing his worries some. After a few moments, his body heat begins to work, melting the ice that clings to your frozen skin. Your shivers reduce to slight chills, and your lips turn from a sickening shade of blue back to that familiar pink.

“Y’know, if you wanted to see me naked again, you coulda just asked,” You shiver, “Didn’t need to have Allbright throw me in the river.” You smirk, wit never leaving you, not even in dire situations.

“I’ll keep that in mind, darlin.” Arthur whispers, resting his chin atop your head, “You just warm up now, you hear?” His hands run up and down your arms as you nod, leaning fully back against him. His chest radiates a warmth that the water never could, and you groan as your body temperature begins to raise.

“You think Allbright’s okay out there?” You whisper, remembering that he’s currently strapped to Balius’s croup. Arthur chuckles from behind you.

“Hope not– the bastard can rot for all I care.” Arthur huffs.

“Arthur.” You chastise lightly, hand intertwining with his under the murky water. The chuckle in his throat dies down, allowing the air to become thick with unsaid words.

“Almost lost ya…” Arthur whispers. His eyes are far away, there's a lump in his throat.

You almost died.

“I’m okay, Arthur.” You reassure, squeezing his hand for good measure. He brings your intertwined hands up to his lips, kissing your knuckles. He holds the kiss for a moment longer than he needs to.

“Stay that way.”

It’s a small plea, a few words, but a big admission. You’ve snuck your way into his heart, and he’ll be damned if the universe tries to pull you away now. He’ll do anything to keep you safe– a facet of information that’s beginning to haunt him.

What will it take–?

What does that entail?

It's something he’s been meaning to bring up for awhile. You’ve both had more near death experiences than any two people ever should.

Arthur presses a kiss to your wet hair, humming lightly as he thinks over what the future may hold. He’ll bring it up. But first, you just need to rest.

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