#and miss grimshaws laugh at the end!!!

[foolish-gulasch]

caught the sweetest moment with miss grimshaw and charles 🩷

[grugruel]

Saint, or Sinner.

Parings: Arthur Morgan x f!reader

MDNI/NSFW

Masterlist

Summary: You've had feelings for Arthur for quite some time now, but little did you know. That he has them for you, too.

After a rowdy night in Valentine, the group flees lawmen and end up in Strawberrys hotel. Whatever will occur?

Word count: 8.9 k

Warnings: Micha being Micah, bar fight/violence, plot with smut, mutual pining, soft Arthur, pinv sex, passionate sex, oral sex (f recieving), praise, pet names (girl, sweetheart), choking, fingering, handjob, creampie, mentioned masturbation.

AN: The words ran away from me, holy shit. It's so much longer than I intended.

Muffled voices argued in the night, soon growing into angry shouts. Rousing me from my sleep, confused, I put my gown on in a hurry. Sleep ridden eyes in a dark tent were not doing me any favors. I pulled the flap to the side and stumbled out of the tent, the voices creating one hell of a commotion.

Just as I did, most of the camp had awoken and joined in on the argument, gladly contributing their own heated opinions on the matter. All except Duch and Arthur, much to my dismay.

My eyes adjusted to the scene before me, the assailants quickly becoming clear. Standing around the campfire, was Micah of course, the center of attention as usual. Stood half shouting at John, who's pot seemed to be boiling over.

Soon after, John unleashed a rant on Micahs stupitidy, throwing in every word he could manage in his steaming anger.

I rolled my eyes, what could that damned fool possibly have done now?

'You piss ridden, moldy rat bastard.' John shouts, seamingly leaving Micah lost for words.

Bill bursts out laughing, slapping his knee at the insult, 'You big fuckin nuthead Micah. . .' He sighs, catching his breath.

Even Hosea snickers, 'Hes right, and that's coming from Bill of all folk.'

I cover my mouth as a giggle leaves my lips, seeing Micah so dumbfounded really sobered my mood. The rest of the girls have a simular reaction.

Micahs eyes narrow on me, 'What are ya' laughing at sweetheart. I ought to teach ya' a lesson.' He snarls, greasy hair hanging over his face.

The camp falls silent, none too appreciative of his choice of words. My mood turn sour again and a chill runs up my spine. The first to call him out was Sadie, 'Someone hold me back.' She spits, Sean stepping in to fo judt that.

Second was Miss Grimshaw, 'The money and now you threathen the girl, have you gone and lost your mind Micah Bell?' disgust evident on her face.

The money? What money?

John took a threatening step toward him, very displeased with Micahs comment, hands forming into fists at his sides. Hosea too, gave him a a bemused look.

'Try anything Bell, and I'll cut your fucking balls off.' I spit, glaring at him, feeling incredible joy in the way his face falls.

Muffled chuckles surround me, 'Thats my Girl.' Sadie laughs, along with a low, approving whistle from Javier.

'Whats goin' on here?' A gruff voice cuts in, looking between me and Micah.

Arthur, flanked by Dutch.

Arthur, shirtless. Flanked by Dutch.

In all my anger, my eyes cant help but sneak a hasty glance at his broad chest. Then quickly averting it, afraid he'd notice. I clear my throat, trying to keep my thoughts in check, 'He threatened me.'

That was enough for Arthur, not doubting me for a second. Fixed himself straight up with murder in his eyes, then walked at the man, readying his fists for a beating.

Butterflies fluttered within me.

Unsurprisingly, Micah cowered. Taking quick cautionary steps backward before Dutch could jump in, throwing his arm in front of Arthur and stopping him in his tracks. John looks at the two men, directing an accusing finger on Micah, 'Not only that, this blasted idiot took our money.'

The moment of joy from Micahs humiliation disappear, turning into anger once again. The camp giving him a mutual glower.

Arthur runs a hand through his hair, 'I ought to kill you.' He speaks, gritting his teeth, and takes another firm step forward. Pushing the limits of Dutch's patience, who strengthens the hold on Arthur.

'Surely, there must be a reasonable explanation for this?' Dutchs says, forcing a smile and shooting Micah an expectant look. Giving him an undeserved chance at explaining himself. Although he didn't show it, he too, was bemused.

'Well- I wanted to invest it, make it grow. I just wanted to help the camp.' Micah preached, his voice sleazy and confident. Telling the sure as shit, bull of an excuse as if he was the one to feel sorry for. Despite the circumstances.

Sighing, 'He god damned gamled it all away.' John reveals, looking ready to kill the man himself. The camp erupts into a loud argument once again, everyone getting a piece in.

I sneak a glance at Arthur, his chest rising and falling in big breaths, trying his hardest to stay calm. 'Bastard.' He mutters under his breath, Dutch giving him a quick warning glance.

'Shut!–' a hoarse voice calls out, '–Up!' Dutch yells, and obediently, we all fall silent. 'Theres no use, standin' around screamin'. You fools are attracting unwanted attention.' Dutch says, hands on his hips, 'Who won the funds.'

'Some rich bastard up in Strawberry.' Micahs sly voice cut through the night.

Dutch rubs his forehead in thought, 'Then he can do without it, go back there and grab it.' An exasperated sigh leaving him, 'Arthur, John, Bill, Charles.' He rounds the men up, 'You go there with him.' He turns to go back to his tent, but pauses and shouts, 'And no!–' dragging the words out, '–Deaths!' He looks at Micah, knowing damn well he'd otherwise murder the mans entire family in cold blood, then points to Arthur, 'That means you too, Arthur.' He says, a tired tone to his words. Clearly insinuating that he wanted Micah alive.

Everyone scatters, going back to bed on edge. But I linger, tucked away behind the tentflap. I watch Arthur come back out of his tent, in full get up. Silently praying that'd they'd be alright, that he would be. I did not care what happened to Micah, I hoped the man would get shot right between the eyes. I would personally love to see to it, I hoped Arthurs hatred for the man would get the better of him. Dutch always went way to easy on Micah, I didn't understand it, but something wasn't quite right with it.

Abigail kisses John goodbye, it made me happy to see them back together and all made up. I watch Arthur leave his tent in full get up, then stride past my tent. He gets on his horse with the rest of them, and ride past the treeline of Horseshoe overlook. No doubt berating Micah all the way to Strawberry.

I laid down in my bed, trying my damndest to sleep. But worry was keeping me up, eating away at me. Something didn't feel right.

He'd heard his words to her, him threatening her. Horrifying images cloud his mind, filling him with rage all over again. No doubt things he'd done before. He glanced a glare at the man, ugly mut.

Had Dutch not been there to stop him, Micah would've found his face beaten bloody and Arthur grinning on top of him. Had he not been loyal to the camp, to his people, to Dutch. Micah wouldn't be returning from this trip. He would conveniently get a bullet to his head, or found on the bottom of a valley, beaten unrecognizable before the fall had caused the killing blow.

He didnt want any harm coming to her. He'd never felt this for a woman, not ever. He'd steal glances, admire her when she wasn't looking. Damn well kill for her. She was the light he had needed for so long, her charming smile could shine brighter than any star he'd ever seen.

'You taken a likin' to her, Morgan?'

John raised his head at that, paying closer attention to the conversation, to Arthur. Knowing the possibility of him flying off the handle.

'Shut up if you know what's good for you Micah.' Charles scolded.

He scoffed, 'The day I listen to–' Micha looks Charles up and down, lingering on the color of his skin, 'The likes of you,' he continues, 'Will be my last.' Muttering the last words.

Ignoring him, Charles didn't do as much as raise an eyebrow. Micah did not deserve a reaction.

Micah was black rot, down to his core. Destorying everything he touched. We all knew it, but all aren't so keen to admit it. Dutch was the first person to come to mind, I couldn't understand for the life of me why he was so defensive of the man.

'I can see why.' Micah spoke again, 'Pretty little thing, isn't she?' He looked at Arthur, 'Got a big mouth on her too.'

John looked between the two men, noting the way Arthur fisted his reins, no doubt knuckles turning white under his gloves. Along with the way he kept his head straight ahead, focused on not killing the man, 'Micah, keep her off your tongue.' John warned, 'I don't care for you, but I don't want the heat from Dutch when you're found dead.' His raspy voice referring to him and Arthur.

Charles looked at the men in silent agreement, he preferred staying out of camp conflicts. But she was a woman dear to the camp, touching her would bode ill for any man.

And ad usual, the big idiot doesn't listen, 'Wouldn't mind takin' her for a ride one of these nights.' He said, the self-righteous smile he bore evident even in his tone. There was no need to look at him to know it.

Bill had been staying out of it, but he could feel the anger radiating off of Arthur. Enough to switch sides, hanging back, then stearing his horse up next to Arthur instead of Micah. Just in case a bullet would come flying.

And wouldn't you know it, Arthur reached into his holster and pulled his finest revolver, aiming it at the sorry excuse of a man. All in one quick motion, he'd been labeled as a dangerous for a reason. John sighed, now he'd done it.

Micah, dropped his reins. Raising his hands in the air, keeping a smug expression on his face. But beneath, he was scared witless.

'Strawberry up ahead.' Charles called, not caring much for the action behind him. Killing Micah would only do the camp good, but a gunshot would give their location away.

'Not another word of her.' Arthur began, 'Touch 'er–' He warns, 'And I'll let her kill ya'.' His voice gravelly and threatening, but Micah scoffed at the notion.

The familiar click off a safety lever sounds out, and the color drains from Micahs face.

'House is just up ahead.' Charles cut in, 'I'd suggest you wait wait with this til we got the funds.'

With a final glare, he holsters his gun and rides up to Charles. Clearing a hill, the house comes into view. Arthur sighs, 'Damn it Micah, you didnt tell us this feller had security.'

'You scared of a little fightin' pretty boy?' Micah mocked.

With a scoff from Arthur, they hitch their horses and pull up their bandanas, setting about proving the rumors of the infamouse Van Der Linde gang.

I anxiously checked my father's old pocket watch. It had been a few hours now. I put it down, tried to think of other things, and then picked it up again. Another 5 minutes had passed. Christ. I couldn't bear losing Arthur, John or Charles, god forbid all three of them. Bill could be sweet, but only when he needed something. I couldn't even dare imagine John leaving Abigail and Jack behind. What would they do? Stay with the gang, of course, but. . . Goodness, what about Arthur? My thoughts were racing ahead of me.

A few more minutes pass, then I hear hoofbeats, relief flods through me. It's hard to count, but theres at least three horses. God, let it be the right three. I emerge from my tent, along with Miss Grimshaw, Abigail, the rest of the girls, and Dutch. I race up to Abigail, holding eachothers hands as we watch the treeline in silence. Relying on each other for support.

Eventually, they break through. All five horses returning with their men on top of them, secretly I curse. One of the could've gotten lost and the world would've been a better place for it. I stroke Abigails back while John sees to his horse, then walks up to us, taking her in his arms and spinning her in a circle. They laugh, and a tinge of jealousy spark inside me. Yet I'm more than happy for them.

I observe the rest of them, they seem to be unharmed. All except. . . Arthur, his white shirt covered in blood. The terror must've been evident on my face, because–

'Hes fine.' John spoke, 'Most of it aint even his.' He said in an effort to calm me.

I nodded, smiling faintly 'Thank you John.' And sqeezed his arm.

'Well–' Dutch called out, 'How'd it go?' He looked at them, expecting nothing but grandeur.

'We got more than we bargained for. . ' John said, grinning. But there was something else his tone.

Bill unloaded his horse and came carrying several saddlebags, throwing them at our feet, money spilling out 'We got what we came for—' He paused, then pulled out two more bags from vehind his back, 'And more!' He burst out in a self-satisfied laugh.

I had to say, they made the best out of a bad situation. And on top of it all, Micah had barely made a sound, he was strangely quiet.

Dutch patted Bill and John on the back, 'Good work, wake the rest. Let us celebrate!' He clapped his hands together, no doubt imagining Tahiti.

I searched for him in the crowd of people as the camp was waking up, and found him talking to Charles and Sadie at the edge of the camp, clutching his side. Worry gnawed at me. They joined us by the campfire while Arthur headed into his tent, not saying much of nothing to anyone else.

The festivities carried out throughout the night, Arthurs lamp remained turned on. Eventually, I just had to check up on him.

I snuck away from the folk, Abigail and John had already turned in, as had Dutch and Molly. Seemed like the singles were the only ones left drinking, and Micah had disappeared to sulk somewhere. Lucky us.

I left them to it and approached his tent, 'Arthur?' I called, but didn't get an answer. I just heard some huffing from the inside.

I risked his reaction and pulled the flap to the side, 'Arth-' I began, but got cut off by the sight. In front of me was Arthur Morgan, shirt pushed up over his stumache, cowboy hat on, stitching up his own wound. Sitting on a stool, his pants were unbuttoned and folded down by the hip, revealing that beautiful "V" shape along with a happy trail of hair leading down toward, well. . . A new cut stretched from his hip to his abdomen, blood covered his hands and side, groaning as he pulled a needle through his skin. Something set off inside me, a yearning that made my body ache. He scarcely even noticed me, not until I gasped.

He looked up, eyes widening, 'You need somethin' Girl?' He blurted out, taken off guard. His state of undress did not help.

'Arthur Morgan. . .' I sighed, slightly offended, 'You shouldve fetched me, you know im good at stitchin' wounds.'

'I know, I know. 'm sorry sweetheart.' smiling faintly, 'Didnt wanna bother you.' He drawled.

I also noticed a mostly empty bottle of whiskey next to him, hoping he used most of it to disinfect the wound. I put my hands on my hips, 'Will you let me help?'

He nodded and handed me the needle, fingers brushing against eachother as I grabbed it.

Our eyes met, briefly. Sharing a glance that was ment to be stolen.

He leaned back against his dresser, the muscle of his upper body changing and rippling with his movements.

I cleared my throat and stepped closer, 'May I?' I asked, pointing at his shirt.

'You may.' He smirked.

I leaned closer to him, unbuttoning from top to bottom. Then pushing the shirt over his shoulder so it'd stay clear from his wound. I kneeled in front of him, his legs spread so I could get closer to the cut, then resting my elbows on his strong thigh to steady my arms.

I tried to focus on the wound, but it proved hard as I was so close to his crotch and how closely he was observing me.

'Might I ask what happened?' I bit my lip in focus, threading the needle through his skin.

'More men than expected.' He answered with a grunt, looking at my lips. Blood rushing somewhere it ought not to, 'One jumped out on me.' He continued, his voice husky and strained.

'He live to tell the tale?' I asked, searching his gaze. Hoping he'd be sincere.

'He did. . .' He groaned, as I finished another stitch. Making the aching settle in my core, a pulse running through me. Every now and then, when I believed him not to be looking. My eyes roamed his chest, studying his strong pecks and biceps.

'You know anything about Micahs sudden tongue-tie?' I ask, locking eyes with him. He lowers his head with a chuckle, a smirk poking out from under his hat.

'I might've. . . Given him something to think about.' He shrugs, the corner of his lip tugging.

Sighing, a smile spreads over my lips 'Youre a good man, Arthur Morgan.' I told him earnestly, 'Better than most.' I finished the last stitch and looked at him, 'All d-' I began, but he cut me off.

His lips greeting mine in a passionate kiss, lasting a whole second. But it was the best second I'd had in years. He pulled back, a horrified look on his face. Immidietly regretting it.

Surprised, I did not quite know what to say. 'Arthur, Im- You- You're drunk. .' I blurted, thinking it was the alcohol taking action. Nothing else.

'I'm–' He looked at me, searching for words 'You're right, I- I probably am. Apologies miss.' He managed.

I cursed myself, why'd he have to be drunk? He'd never remember that this even happened tomorrow.

'No- no. That's fine, don't worry. I didnt-' I tried, I didn't mind it. In fact I loved it, is that so hard to say? 'I should, uhm- let you sleep, you need to rest.' Idiot.

'I s'pouse so.' Was all he said, shock and regret still lingering between us.

'Well, good night. . . Mr Morgan.' I said, and he winced. Quickly, I took my leave.

'Night ma'am.' He called after me.

It felt like fleeing the scene of a crime. Bashing myself for the the formal good night, we were way past such pleasantires. It felt like a blow to even utter the words, even though I usually call him Mr Morgan. But it's always in a teasing way. Never formal and distant like this was.

Goodness gracious, what had I done?

I tucked myself under the covers in my own tent, thoughts circling my mind. I could not tear myself away from the smell of him, his musk, his broad build. Or the way sweetheart sounded as it rolled of his tongue, the way his tongue felt against my own. A hand snaked between my thighs, relieving myself of the ache he'd caused. Then slowly, I drifted off to sleep. With nothing but him on my mind.

You god damned fool Arthur, why'd you have scare her away? Old bastard, he thought to himself. Seeing her by his tent had startled him, but her gentle touch and sweet voice was all the comfort he'd needed. It took the sting right out of the needle. He'd used the bottle to clean the wound, but letting her think he was drunk was easier than the truth.

He'd took a liking to her from the moment he laid eyes on her, but she would never feel the same way. She'd called him Mr Morgan, as if the last year of building a relation with her had disintigrated within a second. It stung, real bad. Worse than a knife ever would. Yet that kiss made it all worth it her soft lips against his, her sweet taste. Feeling her breath on his skin as she undid his buttons, and seein' you like that? Kneeling between his legs, so close to him. It was a memory he would cherish through thick and thin, a memory that would keep him up at night. A memory that made him hard in an instant, he let out a frustrated groan. Silenty taking care of it, pretty images of her occupying his mind as he did. Finally, he began drifting off to sleep. And he only had one thing on his mind. She'd called him a good man, that's all that mattered to him.

A week passed, and we'd had a few shallow interactions. Nothing serious, but resembling the akwardness we experienced in his tent, it made my heart sore. I always found a reason to talk to him, to be near him. So when to opportunity arrived once again, I jumped on it. We'd had a full day of chores, but needed to head into Valentine for a supply run, to stock up on things like ammo and vegetables. And just generally take a look around town, see what else we could find. But I don't have a horse of my own, and since Lenny and Sean were taking the wagon.

I found myself in need of a ride.

The sun had begun its final stretch before setting, meaning the light was golden and beautiful. The warm spring air was gradually turning chilly, but in the most soothing way. I joined the crew by the horses, 'Who's willin' to give a lady a ride.' I asked coyly.

Arthurs mouth fell open, as if he was about to speak, but quickly closed it again. 'I always got space for you, girl.' Sadie winked.

'Stop that. . You ol' charmer.' I smile shyly. Arthur couldn't help but smile, nothing but admiration I'm his eyes for you.

'Well-' Micah began, and I immediately rolled my eyes. Arthur glaring daggers at him.

'Shut it, and shave that overgrown squirell off your face.' Sadie interrupted him, Sean erupting into laughter at the comment.

'Why are we even bringin' him? We don't need that kind of trouble today.' I pointed out.

'Cause I say so, sweetheart.' He leers, smugness radiating off of him.

My stumache churns, my dinner almost catching its second wind, 'Dont call me that.' I turn serious.

Micah laughs, about to respond-

'You heard her.' Arthur stops him, making him reconsider opening his mouth again. Instead he opts to mutter under his breath, no doubt the most vile and cruel things too.

John joins us to help get the wagon in order, then sen dus off. Changing the subject back, 'Arthur got the most space.' John points out, 'I'm sure he wouldn't mind.' He winks at me subtly, and I blush. John Marston, you godsend.

'That okay with you Arthur?' I ask, looking up at him with big eyes.

'Course, c'mon sweetheart.' He jumps out of the saddle, grabs me by the waist, and helps me onto his tall, dark shire.

I yelp, unprepared for his strength. He gets back on, placing himself behind me, then grabs the reins on either side of me, capturing me in his big frame. I can honestly say, that I've never felt safer. A content smile covers my lips.

Sadie chuckles at the two of us, the chuckle turning into pure laughter when she sees Micahs expression. Gritted teeth and narrowed eyes, glaring at us, probably furious by my blatant approval of Arthurs use of sweetheart.

And with that, we begin our journey into town. Lenny and Sean were singing behind us, Sadie leading the way ahead of us. And Micah? I didn't bother finding out where he was.

Feeling Arthurs warmth behind me was all I cared about, his chest and thighs rubbing up against me with every step of his horse. It was doing something to me.

As the sun dove deeper, the cool in the air grew. Involuntary shivers took ahold of my body, 'You cold, girl?' He asked.

I shook my head, 'No, I'll be fine. Thank you though, Arthur.' My voice hackig as a particularly violent shiver shook my body, making my teeth clattered against eachother.

'Dont you lie to me, you're freezin'.' He says, worry lacing his tone, 'Take the reins.' That was an order.

I did and his hands slid between us, unbuttoning his jacket. Knuckles brushing against my back, all the way along my spine, ending at the arch of my back. Sending shivers in waves all over my body. 'Scooch down.' He orders again. Slightly hesitant, I slide backward. My ass tucked neatly again his crotch and my back flush again his chest. With his jacket still on, he wraps it around my sides, nearly covering my entire upper body. Sharing eachothers heat, trapping it between us.

'Arthur. .' I breathe, lust coursing through me. But it must've sounded as a protest because-

'-Dont start.' He said, 'My jacket is big enough for the both of us. Now hand me the reins, darlin.'

Oh you wonderful, oblivious man.

I gave them back to him and tugged his jacket closer around me, leaning impossibly closer to him. Gradually, my shivers disappeared, all thanks to the large, warm bear of a man behind me.

'See? Told ya'.' His body shook gently with a silent chuckle.

'You're somethin' else Mr Morgan.' I sighed and this time, the words felt right.

He smiled, she didnt see it, thankfully. Everything she did, made him smile. She was so close to him, and he had indirectly caressed her back. He could've leaned back and given her space, but he craved her. It was intimate and special. He'd not felt so peaceful since she stitched him up last week. Everything he did was at her service. Now she sat between his legs, grinding up against him. Not to her knowledge though, she just moved her hips to the step of the horse, riding like a woman should. But unbeknownst to her, she was feeding a hunger he fought hard to contain. Head in the lions mouth and all.

'Whats on that mind of yours Arthur?' She asked, 'I can feel you thinkin' from 'ere.' Shuddering against him, is she still cold?

If she only knew, what was goin' through his mind. How he thought of you every waking moment, a sentiment she would never return.

'Nothin' special, you still feelin' cold? I can feel you shiverin' Girl.'

She froze for a second before she spoke, chuckling under her breath, 'No I ain't cold, but thank you again.' He could hear the smile on her lips.

What was it then?

'Is the cut heelin' good?' She asked, concern and something else lingering in her voice. The memory resurfaced in his mind, his blood setting about rushing places. He shut his eyes, trying to clean his mind before he answered. Clearing his throat first, 'Good, 'is gonna be a nice 'n clean scar.' His voice lightly strained.

'Well, I'm glad. You got enough of em' for my liking.' She huffed, annoyed at the notion of him always hurting himself.

He risked it, and leaned his head forward, almost touching her shoulder but not quite. Breathing in that sweet scent of hers. Telling himself that it wasn't such a strange thing to do. 'I'll survive, I always do. With your fine stitchin' It's impossibly not to.'

She blushed, turning her face away from his, a bit shy at his compliment. He loved the way her cheeks turned rosy, 'Thank you.' She said proudly, another shudder against him.

Damn it, wad she still cold or not?

He opted out of asking again. She'd just tell him no. So he took matters into his own hands, quite literally. He moved the reins into one hand and circled the other around her waist, pulling her closer. Figuring he could blame it on rough terrain, that he didn't want her to hurt her pretty self.

But she didn't protest, on the contrary. She made a sound, almost like she exhaled a moan under her breath. Then grabbed his thigh, rough terrain too, perhaps? 'Arthur. . .' She breathed.

'I apologise miss, I shouldn't ha–' He began.

'No, no. You should've.' Firm in her words. 'You, remember much from last week?' She asked.

'I do.' He breathed, a nervous shake to his voice.

'You werent drunk?'

'No ma'am.' He answered truthfully, 'I lied.'

'Why?' There was hurt in her voice, and something broke inside of him.

He hesitated, choosing his words carefully, afraid he'd hurt her more, 'Thought maybe it'd be best, since I stepped over a line.'

She scoffed, 'You didn't step over anything, Mr Morgan.'

'Well I. . .' He paused, 'You didnt seem to like it, thats all. Didnt want you to think I was takin' advantages.' He rambled an explanation.

'I didn't want to take advantage of you Mr Morgan.' She sounded annoyed, annoyed by this whole missunderstanding, 'Didnt want you kissin' me drunk, if it was, just cause you were drunk.' She explained, 'I thought you were drunk. . .' sighing.

Puzzle pieces were finally falling into place for the both of them.

'We're here!' Sadie called from the front.

Dissapointed, I sighed. Yet, relieved, I smiled.

Arthur jumped off, grabbed my waist and helped me down. His touch lingering as our eyes met, searching eachothers gazes for answers. Wondering, where to go from here. We were finally on the same page, and knowing he kissed me from his own free will put a sping in my step.

The group broke up, I headed with Sadie as the men got about their business. We looked at the guns first and foremost, then headed for the general store. I looked for Arthur as we walked from building to building, and saw him heading into the stables. I wondered if he was gonna treat himself to a new saddle. He deserved it.

We went about our list of things to buy, then gathered by the wagon. Collectively, we decided on a bar run before we rode back to camp. Lenny and Sean were particularly excited about the idea.

We ordered whiskey, drank and laughed. Sadie and Lenny stood between me and Arthur, resulting in a whole lot of meaningful glances. Just wishing we could talk some more.

At some point a woman had approached Arthur, laying her hand on his bicep, clearly flirting. And my blood ran cold.

I stood talking with Sean, who noticed my change in demeanour and looked over at them. 'Dont worry yourself girl.' He laughed, and I furrowed my brows. Not sure what he ment.

'You gonna buy a lady a drink?' The woman asked, her voice sultry. Now, my blood boiled.

Arthur chuckeled, 'I didnt know I was talking to a lady.' And glanced at her hand, which she immediately retracted upon noticing.

She scoffed, 'Aint that a nice way to treat a woman. You taken cowboy?' She asked, her eyes narrowing on him.

'Well. . .' He huffed, 'You could say that.'

My heart swelled at his comment.

'Told ye so.' Sean smirked, and I playfully hit him on the shoulder.

The night went on, and as most nights go in a saloon, a fight was bound to happen. Arthur must've been watching me, because within the next half minute. A man had walked up next to me, and was about to touch what wasnt his to touch. But Arthur appeared out of nowhere, his outlaw instics mustve been on high alert. The man did in fact look sleezy enough to attempt such a thing, Arthur grabbed the mans wrist in a bone breaking grib. 'You keep your hands to yourself mister.' He said, his voice low and threatening.

'Or what?' The man spit, and Arthur let go of him. Lowering his head, chuckling. That shouldve been the mans warning, but he didn't know Arthur like we did.

Backing me up, Sean whispered 'Get ready.' to Sadie, Lenny and me. Nodding to a table of thugs in the corner, they were staring at our group intently, watching the scene unfold.

Arthur jerked his head to the side and smirked under his hat, then in flash he gave the man a lethal right hook. Sending him flying backward. The thugs sprung up, heading for us with firm steps.

Holy shit. A full on brawl broke out, everyone lunged themselves on everyone. I delivered a right hook of my own as two guys were ganging up on Lenny. Another man tried getting handsy with me, he snuck up behind me and grabbed me around the waist. So I elbowed him hard in the side and threw my head back. Headbutting him, I turned around and pushed him off me. Taking great joy in the way his nose was gushing blood, I grabbed him by the shoulders and kneed him in the crotch. With a whine, the man fell to the ground.

Even Micah joined in on the action, he'd been sitting still enjoying his whiskey beside us. Until he decided he wanted some fun too, apparently only he could be inappropriate with me. He smashed the glass over the head on the closest man, although im pretty sure he wasn't even apart of the brawl.

As the dust was settling and the lawmen had been called, we flew the coup. Arthur grabbed my hand and rushed us to our horses, not willing to risk leading the law back to camp, we rode hard and fast for Strawberry. Arthur was making a fuss about me on the ride there, asking if I was ok, and I assured him I was. 'Well. . . You got one hell of a hook girl.' He said, and I beamed with pride.

The gang had to act casual as we arrived to Strawberry, which proved futile with cuts and bruises as we asked for hotel rooms. But we ended up conning our way into possession of the last three hotel rooms. Bribing the clerk that is.

Arthur grabbed a key of his own, which nobody disputed. He gave me a meaningful look at and headed upstairs. Sadie grabbed a key and dragged me along with her. Leaving the last three men to argue about sharing a room, 'Shut up Micah, you're sleeping in the hall.' Sean shouted behind us. Turning around, I saw Micah slamming the doors open and storming out.

'I'll find a woman to warm me, dont ya' worry.' He shouted back, muttering under his breath.

We burst out laughing and ran to our room, but before we headed in, I grabbed her arm 'I'm just gonna go check on Arthur real quick.' I said, not thinking much of it.

'I'll not see you til the morning then.' She laughed, our stolen glances had apparently not been so stolen after all.

I rolled my eyes, 'We'll see.' And knocked on his door.

Lenny and Sean walked by, a low whistle accompanied by chuckles as they saw me standing there. But they quickly turned quiet when Arthur opened the door, standing in only his shirt and pants 'May I come in?' I asked, giving him my best puppy eyes.

'Course.' He smirked, and opened the door wider, stepping out of my way. My side brushing against him as I entered. His vest and jacket lay discarded on the bed, along with his hat.

'About before-' I began, my back turned to him. Suddenly feeling his hands slide onto my waist, pulling me into him. I gasped, not expecting it. He leaned into my shoulder, lips gracing my neck, all the way up to my ear. The warmth of his breath fanning over my skin, making me boil on the inside. It made it difficult to think.

'I want you darlin', all of ya'.' He whisperes, 'If you'll have me–' pausing to place a gentle kiss between my ear and jaw, '–'M tired off missunderstandin's.'

In a haze, I turn around and lay my hands on his chest, having to crane my neck upward to meet his eyes. I reach one hand to caress his cheek, brushing at his stubble 'So am I.'

He leans into my delicate touch, nuzzling my hand and placing a soft peck on my palm.

One of his hands sinks its fingertips into the flesh at my hip as the other grabs my arm softly, sliding his hand up to my wrist, gently holding it as he places another kiss there, right on my pulse point. His lips linger, feeling my rapid heartbeat. Gently, he experiments. Sucking and pecking the spot.

A deep ache settles in my bones, fortifying with every kiss he places, deepening with every beat of my heart. And for a second, he feels it too. Meeting my eyes with a smirk, he pulls my sleeve up to cover more ground. Immidietly I feel that my clothes are weighing me down, 'Arthur.' I whisper.

'Hmm?' He hums, focused on kissing what skin he has access to.

Clearing my throat, 'Will you–' I breathe, 'Help me unbutton?'

His eyes meet mine again, searching my gaze for certainty. 'I'll spend the rest of my days doin' your biddin' if it makes you happy girl.'

'It would–' I say, and his hands move to my ribcage, pulling me into his frame. His face an inch from mine as his hands snake around my back, making quick work of each button without batting an eye. 'Oh—' I gasp, surprised by his practiced fingers. 'Should I be jealous?' I ask under my breath.

'No ma'am, none could compete with you.' He assures me.

I feel a blush creep up my cheeks, and in the same moment, he finishes with the last button. Stroking his knuckles over the bare skin along my spine, and sighs. Content. As a shuddering breath leaves me.

Arthur wonders for but a second if shes cold again, until he realises.

'You werent cold, were ya'?'

Immedietly getting what hes reffering to, 'In the begginin' I was.' I tell him truthfully, 'Youre wonderfully clueless sometimes, especially for such a experienced man.'

He chuckles, 'You tellin' me you were all hot 'n bothered for me?'

'You were rubbin' against me, pullin' me close. How could I not be?'

'I wasnt–' He protests, '–You were on me if anythin'.'

'Oh so youre tellin' me you were all hot 'n bothered then?' I throw his words back at him, smirking happily while doing it.

Arthurs mouth opens and closes, unable to think of a comeback.

'Thats what I thought.'

He scoffs a smile, pushing my blouse off of me, leaving me in my undergarments.

His hands move to my arms, sliding upwards, leaving prickled skin in their abscence. He trails them over my collarbones and neck, his eyes following every inch of movement.

I lay my hands on his hips, holding onto him as my knees grow weeker by the second.

Forming his hands into loose fists, he caresses my cheeks with the backs if his fingers. Gently brushing the knuckles over my cheekbones, pushing strands of hair from my face in the same motion. He flattens his hands and cup my face, big hands draping around the sides of my head. Pulling me closer, he leans into my space. Meeting in the middle, his lips ghost over mine.

My breath hitches when he kisses me softly, his thumbs stroking my temples in soothing motions.

I grab onto his shirt, fisting and lightly pulling on the fabric. Arousal taking the reins completley, making it hard to think. I look at him with hazy eyes, admiration clouding every sense I have. '. . 'S your turn mister.' I breathe.

Smiling, he continues kissing me, 'At your pleasure ma'am.'

With a pleased hum, I trace my hands up his abdomen and over his chest, and Arthur groans in response. The aching pulse in my body stiffens at the sound, becoming more compressed. More focused in my core. Kissing him, I easily unbutton his shirt, making quick work of it, and slide it over his shoulders. Now hooked on his arm folds, it hangs around the small of his back. I sigh happily, what a sight it was.

'You expercied taking men's shirt's off?' He jokes, laughing. Then moves his hands to my waist, clawing softly at my skin.

I slide my arms around his neck, up into his hair. Scrathing his scalp tenderly, 'Well–' I begin, but he bites my lip suddenly, warning me. I yelp, accidently pulling on his hair, and a whine escapes him. My core dripping at the sound as I release a shuddering breath, '. .'M a woman Arthur, I have needs.'

'Yeah?' He questions, 'You needin' right now, woman?' The gruffness in his voice making my fingers curl.

'I am. .' Whining, my kisses turn needy, 'I need you Arthur, always.' I moan.

At that he wraps his arms around me, pulling me tightly into his embrace, his fingers digging into my flesh. He kissed me, hard. Hard like he might just die if let's me go.

'Skirt. . .' mumbling against me, 'Needs to go.' He manages. Without another word, I snake my hands behind my back, untying my skirt a let it fall to the floor. Arthur walks forward, forcing me back until my chins hit the bed and we fall onto it. He puts his weight on me, although supported by his forearms. 'Pants.' He orders, but I was already one step ahead. My hands already moving quickly to undo the buttons on his pants as hes kissing his way down my jaw and neck. Focusing on my sweet spot, hes sucks bruises, turning me into a moaning mess under every breath. Meanwhile, I shove my hand into his boxers. He grunts and shoves his forehead into the crook of my neck as I palm him, overwhelmed by my long lusted for touches. His member was already harder than a rock, and leaking juices. I bring my thump to his tip, stroking his seed in circles. He groans breathely into my neck, his warm breath causing further heat to pool in core. He leans onto one arm, sliding the other along the curves of my body. Cupping my breast through my brasier, 'I want to look at you sweetheart.' He groans and unfolds his arm so that hes above me to meet my eyes, 'Can I look at ya'?' He asks, voice pleading.

I nod, '. . 'Course.'.

Waisting no time, he snakes one hand under my back and lifts me up. I gasp, always surprised by his strength. 'Please, ma'am.' He begs, and I take the hint. My hand leaves his his member and move around my back, undoing the brasier. Throwing it on the floor, he sighs in relief, 'Wanted to see ya' for so long.' He breathes, lowering me back onto the bed and himself onto of me. Immidietly taking one breast into his mouth, and palms the other. Squeezing them, playing with my nipples, using teeth, tounge and fingers. Automatically, my back arches. Pushing my abdomen against his, and accidentally making my mound rub against his crotch. He hums under his breath, his hand leaving my breast and slowly slides down my body, then pulls his mouth off of my breast with a pop. 'Now.' He whispers, kissing his way up to my jaw, then leveling his head with mine, 'Wanna se all of ya'.' his free hand cups my cunt. I gasp from the sudden touch, there's no friction, no movement, yet the aching grows stronger from the warmth of his palm alone. I shut my eyes, trying to come up with an answer. But the presence of him takes up my entire mind, all I can manage is a nod.

Not satisfied, he pushes his palm firmly against my core. 'Look at me girl.' He orders, sliding his middle finger over my slit, undergarments creating a barrier. Making my wetness soak into them, and he chuckles when he feels it. Whimpering, I open my eyes to look at him, and he smirks, 'Good girl.' And plants a kiss on my jaw, 'Use your words this time.' He pecks my lips, then slides his finger over my clit. Lately circling it through the fabric, I swallow hard. Jolts of pleasure surge through my body as something finally gives. 'Want. . . You.' I manage.

'Yeah?' He breathes, and I nod. To which he raises his brows, and pushes two fingers against my core in warning.

Another jolt, '!Mmm, meanin'. . .' Humming a stutter, 'Yes–' I pause, '–Please Arthur. I- I want you.'

'Atta girl.' He praises, then begins trailing kisses down my chest, over my nipple and abdomen, ending at my mound, right above my clit.

My back arches, 'Please. .' I whisper, pleading with him. He pushes back, shakes his already half off shirt completley off, and his pants follow. My eyes go wide at the size of him, hello cowboy.

His hands slide up my thighs, giving reassuring squeezes until he gets ahold of my undergarments. Hooking his fingers under them, he gently slides them off, and the both of us gasp. 'Beautiful.' He murmurs, admiring me. Then bends down, kissing his way up my inner thigh. Winding his arms under my legs and grabbing my waist, then hovers over my cunt, giving me one last look before diving in.

He licks one long stripe up my folds, gathering my wetness on his tongue. Then attaches himself to my clit, generously sucking and circling his tongue around it. I'd been on edge since the night in the tent, hyper sensitive from always wanting him, and finally feeling him on me? It's purely magical, I have to bite my cheek to keep from screaming when he shoves two fingers inside me. Thrusting in and out, curling with every withdrawal. I was already close, 'Arthur, 'm so close.' I moan.

He nods, furthering the movement of his tongue, 'Tell me what ya' needin' girl.' He mumbles against my folds, the vibrations of his voice deepness have me gripping my sheets, clawing it them like a wild animal.

'Need you, need you in me.' I blurt out.

He laughs, 'Im already in you sweetheart.' Causing my back to arch again, oh sweet, sweet vibrations. I throw my head back into the pillow, and his hand slides from my hip to my lower abdomen, 'Be good and lay still now.' Then pushing down with his palm. That combined with his fingers, were– were enough. . .

Blinding pleasure surges through me as I come on his fingers, walls clenching, fluids flowing. I breathe heavily as he laps it up, 'In me Arthur, please.' I whine.

'Youre gonna have to be clearer girl.'

I loose my patience, 'Christ, Arthur! I need you cock in me.'

He smirks, 'Well why didnt you just say so?' His hands push my legs over his shoulders and he climbs on top of me, face to face, he kisses me passionately. Tasting of salt.

His tip graces my entrance, 'You sure, aint you?' He asks, kissing my jaw.

I bury my hand in his hair, 'Mmh, 'm sure.' And with that, pushes inside me. A breathy moan leaves our mouths simultaneously.

'Feelin' just as sweet as you taste sweetheart.' He whispers against my jaw, nuzzling his nose into my cheek and forehead against temple. The pulls out, to the tip, and shoves himself back in. Hard and passionate, he sets perfect pace. Rocking our bodies with every thrust, going deeper than I ever thought to be possible.

'Christ.' I groan, he's hitting that spot inside me with every motion. One hand moves though his back, scratching at it loosely, pulling on hip to get him even deeper. He grunts, in my ear. Might aswell be music, wouldnt be able to tell a difference. He snakes one hand up my torso, grabbing my throat gently and squeezing just enough. Brushing his thumb over my my jugular. Outlaw indeed.

I pull on his hair, to level his face with mine, I wanted his lips, his tongue. 'Kiss me cowboy.' I order, and he follows.

Kissing me deeply, in rhythm with his thrusts, In rhythm with the aching that was finally dulling in my body. Finally, I had I'm. Truly had him. Bliss flows through me as the knot in my stumache tightens, on the verge of my second orgasm. And telling by Arthurs thrusts, he wasn't far away either. In a few more thrusts we both topple over with a breathy moans, Arthur whispering, 'Good girl.' Over and over as his seed was filling me to the brim, seeping out around his member as he collapses on me. My legs falling to the bed. We gather our breaths in a comfortable silence, just enjoying the closeness of the other.

He lays and arm around me, pulling me close as we fall asleep. Both thinking of the other, just not having to imagine what holding the other would feel like anymore.

At some point during the night, Arthur had rolled me off of his arm and snuck out. I was to tired to think much of it, especially since he returned shortly after. By morning I had all but forgotten it, brushing it off as a dream.

As we got dressed and ready the next day, I handed Arthur his hat. He took it, but looked at me, 'Put it on, wanna see you in something of mine.' He says, smiling.

'Gladly.' I chirp, and put it on.

His smile slants, turning into a smirk, 'Now, girl. You know what that means don't you?'

'Why'd you think I was glad to put it on. If not just to tell Micah to shove it.' I chuckle.

'It suits ya' He ruffles my hair with the hat.

We walked out and fetch our horses, the grup giving us mixed looks as the spot us. Arthurs hat declaring to the public of his intentions, that I was his and that we would have a busy night. Sadie smirked knowingly, winking at me. While Sean and Lenny looked happy for us, Micah was the only one who glowered.

'I got a surprise.' He says as he saddles his shire.

'Yeah, whats that?' I tilt my head.

He nods to Sean who runs off, I quirk my eyebrow at Arthur, 'Whats all this?' I ask.

'You'll see, keep your eyes peeled sweetheart.'

Eventually, Sean comes back into view, leading a horse I don't recognize. A beautiful mustang, tan coat, and white forhead. I don't connect the dots at first, 'Sean got a new horse?' I ask, confused.

'Now why would I surprise you with a new horse for Sean?' He asks, chuckling. And the pieces snap into place.

'For me?' I ask, dumbfounded. A million questions circling my head.

'Got her yesterday, had Sean ride and get her earlier this morning. Since I was. . . Occupied.' He smirks.

'That's why you snuck out in the night, then?'

He hums, 'Mhm.'

'Well I'll be. . Arthur Morgan, thank you.' I smile, hugging him. He wraps his arm around me, holding me tightly, afraid I'd otherwise slip away.

'. .'S nothing.' He pecks my cheek, 'Go meet her.'

As we arrived back to camp, we got busy. Late into the night we spent in Arthurs tent, defining the meaning of cowgirl.

The next few hours we rode next to eachother on our way back to camp, flirting and laughing as Saint and I got used to eachother.

[cowboyfromh3ll]

I saw u say i do hcs so i thought i should ask for some hcs 'cause ur one shots r great so ur hcs will obviously be too. Anyways, can we get hcs about Javier having a crush on a girl who's nice and reserved, a bit shy too. Like, what he'd do to impress her? How will he talk to her? It's more fluff but u can add some nsfw because ur style in writing is just *chef's kiss*

HC for Javier crushing on a shy and reserved fem!reader (smut)

warnings: smut, some humiliation

Javier is absolutely smitten

Many people think he's some smooth talking romantic, but we saw the way he was acting around those two women at the bar in Valentine

The way he acts around women he wants is quite frivolous 

At first he think your shyness means you don’t want to talk to him or straight up don’t want anyone's company, and he’s very discouraged by it

Sometimes he’ll see you walking past and say “Why don’t you talk to me more often?” to which you laugh awkwardly to

Cries himself to sleep that night

Will very hesitantly try and talk you or ask for your opinion on things to strike conversation

When you ask what’s up he would have realized he didn’t think his bluff through so makes something up

Ends up asking what you think of his outfit

To which you say you think it's lovely and call him stylish

The compliment makes his year

He trips over his words and becomes excited, grasping at anything to get your attention and keep it

His excitement can be described as juvenile, as he finds any excuse to try and be around you

Will learn how to sew simply so he can sit there with you while you do your chores 

And so Miss Grimshaw doesn’t yell at him for distracting you while working, he’s working too he would argue

Notices you come round the campfire when he’s playing or singing, so he starts doing it almost every night

Sometimes he’ll sing love songs for you indirectly, even if people are around and nobody knows it’s meant for you, Javier will mean it in his head

Will ask you for song requests personally 

He’s pretty awkward at first when it comes to crushes but once he advances in them he’ll get more confident

For a while he sorta just stood around you and asked you mundane little questions, followed you around like a lost puppy

Your shyness would keep you from giving more fleshed out answers, but your brief responses would not discourage him

But once the two of you started talking more he makes sure he’s the one you talk to the most

Definitely the type of guy who keeps your attention by making you laugh. Anytime you two are together it's all giggles from you and it's SO obvious to anyone around you guys that y’all are flirting

Definitely the jealous type as well

If he sees you talking to another guy his anger will probably cause him to be more bold with you

Eventually starts dedicating songs to you

Once he starts getting real bold he’ll say more flirty stuff

“Can I stay in your tent with you tonight? It’s a bit cold.” 

Once you start dating he INSISTS you don’t lift a finger and will do your chores for you

His previously learned sewing skill comes in real handy

NSFW

Think your shyness is so so cute and sexy

Despite his own initial nerves, he tries to be audacious for the both of you during sex

Will lead many of your sessions together

Always starts nice and slow and takes things at your pace

Unwraps you like a present but very carefully as though your skin is made of paper and he might actually tear you

His nerves shine through as he undresses you with shaky hands

Will constantly ask you questions and cup your face so you can speak to him while looking him in the eyes

His confidence increases the longer you are together and become comfortable with one another

This man can fuck rough, starkly contrasts your own shy personality

Has so much stamina, but will slow it down if you ask

Loves making you blush by talking dirty, will whisper absolute filth in your ear if it means just getting you to blush

Will nip at your earlobe while whispering to you, sees just how wet he can get you from his words alone

Praises you so much during sex “My perfect girl, you’re doing so good.” “Yes, just like that preciosa, you’re so good at this.”

Loves the way the praise makes you blush just as much as his dirty talk

Is so lewd when you two are going at it, always encourages you to be just as bold

Enjoys your quiet personality in front of others just to see how loud he can make you scream in private

Puts you in embarrassing positions just to see how flustered you get 

Sometimes he'll secretly grope you in public to see the way you squeak

Absolutely tease, gets so much enjoyment from watching the way you squirm because of how shy you are 

[twola]

Yo yo yo! I have a request. Do Arthur x f!reader where he's teaching her to fish because Hosea/Dutch has found out shes weirdly squirmy about fish but she's being a reluctant brat about things and Arthur loses his temper 'GODDAMMIT wOmAn!' Style. Make its as unhinged smutty as you please (so a LOT 😏) Thank you! 😘😘😘

Ooh. Well now - I do not like fish that much, so this isn’t a stretch for me 😂 This was super fun!! I hope you enjoy.

Gone Fishin'

Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader Smut (18+), MDNI

➵ Fic Masterlist ➵ AO3 Link

As Arthur reaches the end of his convalescence after his run-in with Colm O’Driscoll, Hosea has a task for him - teach one of the girls how to fish. The task, he finds out, is a little harder than he imagined. Also, he’s a little harder than he imagined. 

Lemoyne was warm. Warm and humid, buggy, and miserable. Arthur’s work shirt stuck to his skin, even after shedding his full union suit underneath his clothes, he’s still too damn hot. 

He’s hot and bored.

The pain in his shoulder is just a niggle at this point, but Grimshaw refused to let him go work again, even though the wound has closed up, scabbed over, and is scarred with new pink skin. 

Three more days, Grimshaw pointed at him, and with that tone that he knew he would catch hell from her if he disobeyed.

But he’s past languishing under the shade of his tent. Idleness may suit a drunk like Uncle - but not a man like him. He is a man of action.

He needs to do something. Or he is going to go crazy.

-

“Oh, come on, dear. It’s relaxing.”

“Hosea, I don’t do fish. I don’t like eatin’ them, and I sure as hell wouldn’t like catching them.” You huff, standing at the end of the dock. 

Hosea sits next to you, a fishing pole in his hand as his feet dangle over the side of the dock. You fiddle with your skirts as you gaze out at the lake, the water glinting in the afternoon sun.

“It’s an art, dear girl.”

You scowl down at him, “Fish are disgusting.” 

He laughs, “Oh, you. We’re on a lake, you’re gonna have to get used to fish real soon, missy.”

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. It’s hot, and you wear just a simple white chemise top tucked into your cotton skirt, baring your arms and decolletage to the sun, a welcome opportunity after almost freezing to death in the Grizzlies. 

Hosea looks back toward the camp, where he sees Arthur mulling about. An idea strikes him, genius, as his ideas often are. He stands up, and waves over to the recovering gunslinger, “Arthur, c’mere! Got somethin’ for you to do!”

“No- Hosea,” you whisper harshly, clenching your fists in your skirts, “What are you doing?”

Arthur approaches the end of the dock, running his hand through his long beard, not having shaved in weeks at this point. “Hosea,” He grunts, then looks to you, “Miss.”

“Dear, you need to learn the fine art of fishing. And Arthur over here? He needs somethin’ to do other than sit around pissin’ off Grimshaw.” Hosea waves his free hand toward the camp,

Hosea claps Arthur’s back with his free hand, then turning and tugging you toward the gunslinger on the dock.

“Now you kids take the boat and get on out there, it’ll do both of you some good.”

“Wait wait, wasn’t it you and Dutch makin’ fun of me for the trout incident? I shouldn’t be teaching anyone how to fish.” Arthur shakes his head.

“Nonsense, boy. You caught plenty last time we went out. Besides, it’ll get you out of camp.”

“Fine.” Arthur groans, grabbing the fishing rod from the older man’s outstretched hand.

“Hosea-”  You whine, but your benefactor nods his head, cutting you off.

“Go on.” 

You roll your eyes, following Arthur as he steps into the rowboat moored at the dock, taking his outstretched hand, and helping you step into the small boat.

“You kids have fun now.” Hosea waves, a smile on his face.

Arthur grunts, picking up the oars and pushing off from the dock. You sit in the bow of the rowboat, scowling, as Arthur rows away from the camp, scanning the horizon. A hushed quiet falls as he guides the boat southbound, the camp becoming smaller and smaller as he rows deeper out into the lake.

“Why do you want to learn how to fish?”

“I don’t.” You huff, your arms crossed over your chest.

“Then why the hell are we out here?” Arthur stops rowing, a scowl also settling in on his face.

“Cause you can’t say no to Hosea.”

“Looks like neither can you.”

An awkward silence settles in between you.

“Well, we’re out here now. Might as well make the best of it.” Arthur says, pulling the oars into the hull of the boat and picking up the fishing rod. He holds it out to you.

You let out an exasperated sigh, refusing to uncross your arms.

Arthur grumbles, adjusting the hat on his head, before drawing the rod back and pulling a feathered lure from his pocket, placing it on the hook. He casts the line further out into the lake. 

“Didn’t really plan on fishin’ today, otherwise I’d have some live bait - worms or crickets or whatnot.” He turns back to you, tugging on the rod slightly, glancing back as the lure bobs in the water.

You glower, scrunching your nose at the mention of live bait.

“I hate fish.” You grit out.

“Oh, hush.” Arthur chides. The line pulls, and he feels something bite.

“Here ya go!” He pulls back the line, the fish hanging in the air. With a grin, he swings the pole in your direction, the bluegill flopping on the line, getting closer to your head.

You scream, standing up in the boat and batting the fish away from your face, causing Arthur to jerk to the side, dropping the fishing pole in surprise. The boat violently bobs side to side with your movement.

“Goddamnit, woman!” Arthur yells, nearly falling over the side of the boat as he tries to catch the pole that you batted away from him.

“I told you I don’t like fish!” You screech, sitting back down slowly as the boat bucks. 

“That’s it, Christ; you’re such a goddamn brat!” Arthur throws the pole within the hull of the boat and grabs the oars, thrusting them into the water forcefully. He heaves the oars, forcing the boat forward as he angrily pulls and pushes back toward the shore, breathing heavily as he propels the boat through the water.

“Arthur - wait-”

“Waste of my goddamn time,” He continues, fuming. It actually feels good to work his muscles like this.

“Arthur!”

By then, it’s too late. The boat hits a sandbar and beaches itself, and the speed at which Arthur was rowing causes the boat to lurch violently, sending you flying forward into his body, and you both tumble to the hull of the boat, a jumble of limbs and your skirts.

Arthur pushes you up, and you nearly fall backward with the force of his shove.

He swears as you get your footing, sitting up and looking for the oars as he pulls himself back up to his seat.

The oars are nowhere to be found. He probably dropped them when he beached the damn boat. Actually, as he squints, he sees one floating away from the sandbar, back toward the middle of the lake.

“Shit.” He curses.

“You idiot.”  You sneer at him, lifting your boot to find it wet with lakewater, a hole having sprung in the bottom of the hull, the wood splintered as water rushes in. You hike up your skirts as the level of water rises within the boat.

Arthur jumps out of the boat, grumbling, looking this way and that as you climb out as well. The sandbar the boat is beached upon is on one of the small islands off the shore of the lake, a good fifty feet to the mainland. He curses to himself as he looks back into the boat, the hull filling with water.

“Now what?” You ask critically as you let your skirts down, following him as he stalks along the island’s shore. 

He doesn’t answer, looking around at the sandy ground beneath his boots.

“Watch out for the snake.” He points at the ground next to you, and your eyes dart downward as a brown water moccasin slithers by.

You scream, jumping toward him in fear away from the snake as it glides away into the water, and in a jumble of limbs, you’re somehow climbing the man as he stumbles backward.

“Get me out of here!”

Arthur tries to have some sort of propriety as he tries to regain his balance, but it’s hard when the only hold on you he can get is to loop his hands under the backs of your thighs. You’re clutching at his shoulders, trying to get yourself off of the ground, and end up finding purchase on him by wrapping your legs around his hips, your skirts askew as you pant in terror.

“Fuckin’ stop-” Arthur grunts, stumbling backwards, finally losing his battle with gravity as you and he tumble into a sand dune. His hat flies off, rolling on its rim in a circle, finally settling a few feet away.

Of course, of course, it couldn’t suit him to land in any kind of proper or decent way. No, no, he had to land completely on top of you, slotted between your hips, your skirts creeping up while his traitorous, immature, villainous cock swells at the pressure of his weight against your clothed cunt.

The air has been knocked out of your lungs, but beneath him, you gasp as he tries to move. Your knees frame him, skirts fallen to your hips to show your skin. Your arms are still thrown around his shoulders as he tries to push himself up, his hands slipping in the sand, causing him to crumble down on you, his hips fully pressing down on yours.

Shit. Shit.

He’s trying to think of anything - rotten meat, Uncle’s laundry - anything to stave off the growing erection tenting within his pants. But alas, he is a slave to his own biology, as his cock stiffens and his blood rushes into his groin.

You stare up at him. His eyes dart away in embarrassment, a blush deepening on his cheeks.

Then, you do something that throws him even further into this pit of arousal he finds himself in.

You slowly roll your hips against him and he cannot help but to let out a low moan in response and press his swollen cock against you harder.

Christ, your hair has fallen from its bun, spread out on the sandy soil of this island like some sort of halo.

Two minutes ago he wanted to throttle you. Now, underneath him, he wants to make you gasp and cry and oh, to say his name in a high whine-

“Fuck-” he curses, but before he can go any further, your hands move from his shoulders to the back of his neck, and you pull downward gently - not enough to move him, but enough to give him permission.

He waits for a moment, searching your wide eyes, your open, wet lips, and in that moment, he throws caution to the wind and leans down to slot his lips against yours. You continue to roll your hips against him, crossing your ankles over his back in a surefire sign of what you wanted, whining into his mouth.

And fuck, if he wasn’t going to give it to you.

As he leans back on his knees, sliding his arms from around your waist, he paws his suspenders down and starts unbuttoning his pants, desperate to free his swollen cock. He grunts with a hint of satisfaction as he pulls his length from his pants, closing his eyes as he strokes himself several times. He faintly recognizes your squirming beneath him, and when he’s opened his eyes again, hand still on his cock, he’s struck by what he sees. You’ve shimmied down your bloomers, skirts flipped up and over your hips, pooling across your waist.

Your folds glisten with moisture, and his hips jut forward near uncontrollably, his cock seeking out your warmth, his body yearning to bury itself within your hips.

“Y- you sure-?” One last chance - one more opportunity to back away from the precipice - to realize that you are both being ridiculous - one second ready to kill each other, the next…

“Arthur please.”

Well, there goes his reservations.

One of his large hands spreads out over your hip, the other around the base of his cock, and he presses the swollen, dripping head of his cock against your folds, trailing downwards as he parts them to your opening, groaning in pleasure as he slips in half an inch.

His hand leaves his cock as he leans back over you, arm landing next to your shoulder, as he gently presses his hips forward, sliding in as you shut your eyes in overstimulation. By the time his hips press against your own and he’s sheathed in you to the hilt, your eyes flutter open as you let out a breath you were holding. Arthur’s other arm comes up to bracket you in, his mouth hanging open as a strand of his honeyed-brown hair falls forward between his eyes.

He lowers himself down to his elbows to press himself completely against you, seeking out your lips again as he bucks his hips forward, causing you to mewl into his mouth, your arms wrapping around his neck, one hand cupping the back of his head, fingers threading into his long hair, grasping it tightly as he settles into a rhythm of rolling his hips back and forth.

You pull on his hair and he groans, thrusting hard into you in response. Seems like you aren’t over your surly mood. He finds a hard and punishing rhythm, again feeling good to work his muscles after his convalescence.  It had been much longer than that since he’s worked these particular muscles.

“A-Arthur-” You moan loudly as he continually strokes that spot within you. He grunts in response, pulling his cock nearly out of your cunt before slamming his hips back into you.

You shriek in pleasure, and for a moment he’s thankful he’s marooned the two of you on this island yards away from the shore of the lake.

“Y’gonna come for me?” He harshly whispers into your ear, “Y’gonna come on my cock?”

That does it.

You cry out, back arching against him, head thrown back into the grassy dune, a high keening sound that makes him moan helplessly in response, gyrating his hips as your cunt clenches hard around his length, warm and wet and perfect.

“Fuck - fuck - woman…” He groans, rutting forward as you come down from your high, his cock pulsing and covered in your warm slick, and he is forced to pull himself from you, gliding out as he sits back on his knees and starts to pump himself.

You look up and god, is he a sight. His hips buck forward as he strokes his length, his mouth hanging open and muscles of his abdomen clenching under his shirt tails. A low moan escapes him as his other hand flies to cover the head of his cock, and he comes with his eyes screwed shut, looming over you.

He pants, for several moments, before opening his eyes. You sit up, needing, needing more, and you loop your hands around his neck again and pull his lips to yours, pressing your tongue into his mouth. He grunts in surprise, but leans into the kiss, tangling his tongue with yours.

You pull back, a smile creeping across your face, and as he opens his eyes, he cannot help the same.

“Is that how your lessons always end?” You laugh as he tucks himself away with his clean hand, leaning to the side to wipe his other hand in the grass as a half a smile creeps across his face.

“Only when the student is difficult.” He rumbles, tucking his shirt back into his pants as you start to pull your skirts down over your thighs.

“Mm.. I do remember you offering to teach me to shoot before Blackwater.”

Arthur arches an eyebrow as he rebuttons his pants and slides his suspenders back up. “Y’gonna be a brat about it?”

“Of course.”

He smirks, reaching for his hat on his knees. You push yourself up to stand, shaking your skirt free of sand and grass as you look for where you tossed your bloomers in your fit of passion.

“Arthur.”

“Mhm?” He replies, running his hand through his long hair before placing his hat back on his head.

“How are we going to get back to shore?”

-

Hosea smokes a cigarette sitting by the scout fire, the sun having gone down some time ago.

He’s starting to feel a niggle of concern that the two of you aren’t back. The both of you can certainly take care of yourselves.

You’re stalking back toward your tent, your clothes soaking wet, hair plastered down your neck. You refuse to give Hosea even a passing glance as you head back to the women’s tent.

Hosea arches an eyebrow as Arthur walks closer, also fuming. Also soaking wet. The gunslinger looks at Hosea briefly before carrying on.

“Lesson didn’t go as planned.”

[monsterbeetlebug]

Never steal from Micah Bell

Fem reader

Tw: mentions of guns, violence, fire, blood, sexual tension.

Tilly came running into camp. She was full of panic. Eyes vide and out of breath. She started screaming that you had been kidnapped by a gang. They had been after all of you for some time. They managed to get their hands on you wanting to get info on where the Van der Linde gang was residing. Everyone dropped their stuff and came running to Tilly. Asking of everything she knew. Miss Grimshaw took her away to clean her up as the fellers started talking. Dutch, Hosea and Arthur was scrambling about to gather their stuff. They quickly turned around when they heard the sound of hoves racing away. They all stood frozen looking confused between each other as Micah raced away. He had never shown any interest or care to save anyone but himself. Micah rodes as fast as he could. Rage was fueling him. The reflection of the sunset was like flames in his eyes. There was no mercy to be shown. Nobody who steals from Micah Bell had a life ahead of them. His laugh erupted. He felt like he would go insane if anything happened to you. "Ain't no one stealin from me who gets to stay alive."

You were locked in a small shed. Left in the dark small room. They had roughed you up a bit trying to get you to speak. Your head hanging down as you focused on sounds outside. You had shot up as you heard an all too familiar laugh and yelling. Micah! The cold bastard actually cared enough about you to come and save you. "I'm going to burn this place to the ground! Time to meet with your maker boys!" His maniacal laughter came through as you heard glass breaking and shots fired. You could see the slight glow of fire from outside. There was screaming and gunshots all around.

Then suddenly, it fell silent. No talking. No footsteps. Only the crackling of fire growing. You feared the worst. Then, the door of the shed swung open. Your eyes widened, and relief filled you. There before you stood Micah. The glow and sparks from the fire wild behind him. The dark silhouette was disturbingly impressive. His eyes felt cold and dark. Blood was splattered across him. Luckily, it wasn't his own. You jolted up and ran towards him. You hugged yourself around his neck. He hugged back and patted you back. "You came for me, you cold bastard, you actually came." Micah let out a soft chuckle as you pulled apart. He looked at you with eyes that told more than his words. "Couldn't let them get away with stealing the only thing I care more for than my guns." You felt a tingling sensation go through you at his words. You hugged him tighter with your head under his chin. Smiling to yourself hearing those words. That evil asshole actually has some feelings beneath is vile exterior. Something he would never show to anyone else, especially not back at camp. He couldn't let them know he actually had a heart. He would never hear the end of it if they found out he was a human after all.

Micah grinned to himself feeling how close you held onto him. He held you just as thight back. Feeling relaxed knowing you where safe with him again. He slowly slid his hand down your back to place it on your butt. Softly squeezing. You felt a cribling inside. A warm feeling that was building. He placed a kiss on your head before he moved to kiss at your neck. He let out a hum of appreciation. Your breath got heavy as you closed your eyes. You could feel him grow harder against your stomach. He pulled away and placed a kiss on your forehead. A soft smirk visibleas he spoke. "C'mon, let's get you out of here, we'll finish this later doll."

He gave you a pat on your butt as he helped you up on his horse. Then suddenly you heard a stampede of hoves arriving. It was all the fellers from camp. Arriving just as you were about to leave this place. They saw you sat on top of Baylock like a trophy. All safe and content. Your cheeks stilled flushed red from Micah's actions. They looked at the burning camp behind you. Half the place was burned already, and things had begun falling down. Arthur looked angry at Micah. "What tha hell, Micah?! Was it really necessary to burn the place?" Micah led his horse towards them with a prideful saunter. His sleazy grin taking it's usual form. He leaned a bit back and put his hands out to his sides, exaggerating his words. "You're late to the show boys. Everything's dealt with, and I've saved our dear damsel in distress. But I didn't take you for a slow guy in a rescue Cowpoke, or should I say slowpoke instead?" Micah mocked Arthur as he passed by everyone. You couldn't help but find it funny. You tried your best to hide it so Arthur wouldn't get more upset than he already was.

Micah eventually hopped up behind you. Making sure you were sat close to him. You could feel his still hard member pressed up against your back. Making sure you could feel how much he craved you. As Baylock started trotting away and back home, he put a secure hand on your thigh. Stroking at your inner thigh. It made your warm tingle feel like a flame stared inside. Melting you closer to him. He needed to feel you to know you where there. That you where safe within his hand. He had a grin on his lips. With a rough but loving voice he spoke. "Let's get you home and taken care of princess."

[oceanmusings]

shipuary 4 | emmaline nielson x arthur morgan

Masterlist : link

Summary : the worst thing about sharing a bed with a man who wakes up at the crack ass of dawn.

Warning : super fluffy, my apology for what I wrote for them last time, based around the time at Shady Bell! No spoilers

One thing that everyone knows about Arthur is that he always wakes up with the sun. When the sun rises, no doubt Arthur Morgan would rise too. This becomes unfortunate for Emmaline when he invites her to share his bedroom at Shady Belle. Emmaline was a light sleeper, and has been since she was a little girl. The littlest movement or sound could wake her up. It was worse when she was getting used to sleeping outdoors, but eventually she got used to it. This was not the case when she moved into Arthur’s bedroom.

His cot was already very small and it was cramped to fit the two of them, but they were able to do it with Emmaline basically draped over Arthur. But he didn’t mind the pressure and just would pull her closer to him instead. Emmaline was pretty sure even if they got a bigger cot to fit them both, they would still cuddle up together like this.

Like every morning, she feels Arthur try and move out from under her as stealthy as he could. But the minute he moves her head off his chest is when her consciousness awakens. She opened her eyes groggily, it takes a second for her to register everything around her. She lifts her eyes to where Arthur was sitting on the cot, stretching his arms above his head as he tries to suppress a large yawn. He reaches for his boots but pauses as he feels a hand lazily grasp his wrist.

“Stay.”

Arthur turned his gaze to the half-asleep woman on his bed, a slight pout on her lips that was too adorable. “Darling, I got to get up. Got some jobs from Dutch.”

“Damn Dutch, stay with me.” Emmaline whines, pulling on his hand to join her back in bed. “It’s too early to do anything.”

“Don’t let Miss Grimshaw hear you say that.” The cowboy laughs, letting the woman tug on his arm.

“Don’t care what that old crone says.” Emmaline mumbles sleepily, but both knew that wasn’t true. Miss Grimshaw wasn’t a woman to cross or argue with. “Now c’mon, it’s barely early enough to do anything. Come back to bed.”

Arthur stared down at the woman, a glint in his eyes that Emmaline’s mind couldn’t place. But her eyelids were heavy and it was hard to keep them open long enough to focus on it. He smiled at her gently and toed off his boots again.

“I’d be a fool to deny the woman.”

The sleepy grin on her face brightened the old cowboy’s whole day. Emmaline adjusted herself so Arthur could slide back into bed next to her, facing her this time instead of laying on his bed. Emmaline immediately wrapped her arm around his waist and pressed close to her cowboy, humming in delight at his warmth enveloping around her.

“Good choice.”

Arthur let out a soft laugh and pressed a kiss to her forehead, placing his hand on her hip to pull her closer to him that every inch of their bodies were pressed up against each other. The scratch of his beard against her skin was a nice sting, she realized it was getting a bit long now. Maybe she’ll offer to shave it sometime.

Her thoughts drifted off as she felt him begin to press kisses down her face. From her forehead, eyebrows, under her eyes, and the tip of her nose. Her eyelids fell closed as she felt his breath brush against her lips, waiting for him to kiss her where she wanted it most. Frowning as he pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth instead.

He laughed once more as he felt her frown. “You are too easy.”

“Kiss me, you idiot.”

He didn’t deny her and pressed his lips lazily against her own. The two share a kiss and many more in the privacy in his bedroom without any watching eyes that could interrupt the tranquil moment they have created together, other than the rising sun peeking in through the windows.

Every morning Arthur wakes Emmaline up, but if it always ended up like this, Emmaline doesn’t mind rising with the sun anymore.

[goodmorgan]

I'll Keep You Warm

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Female Reader

Summary: Arthur comes to your rescue after you get stranded in a thunderstorm in the Heartlands. As he looks after you, he risks exposing your secret relationship, leading him to a breakthrough.

Word Count: 6.9k

A/N: Did not expect it to be so long! So I divided it in 3 parts. Skip to part 3 for the fluff!

Warnings: 18+. NSFW. Mild hypothermia. Angst. Hurt/comfort. Fluff. Secret relationship. A very fluffy happy ending. Arthur Morgan is a human furnace.

AO3 Link

A/N: Set in Chapter 2 at Horseshoe Overlook.

Chapter 1: Into the Storm ____________________________

The sun is setting and you still aren't back. Even worse, the thunderstorm is not letting down, becoming stronger with each passing minute. Arthur grows sicker with worry at the sound of every thunder in the distance. You should've been back by now.

You went to Emerald Station to retrieve a package sent to you by your uncle in California, leaving after breakfast, hoping to be back for the afternoon so you could still return to your chore duties at camp. You had begged Miss Grimshaw to let you go and somehow she agreed. You'd been to the area before and were certain the journey would be easy, even with your new mare, Rosemary. It was a seemingly sunny day, perfect for a ride out east.

It started to rain just before you got there and you didn't worry much about it, but by the time you left it was pouring and you still had to cross most of the Heartlands back to camp.

Arthur had left very early in the morning for Valentine and by that time you were still fast asleep. He had passed by your tent before leaving, hoping to get a kiss goodbye. As he peeked inside you were still dreaming, a little smile decorating your face. He'd be a fool to wake you up so he headed north, leaving content with the image of you dreaming peacefully. What he didn't know is that you had been dreaming of him.

He got back to camp in the middle of the afternoon, drenched from head to toe as the storm had caught him a few miles back. Everyone was sheltered in their tents and he headed to his to change his clothes, thinking he could see you after. Maybe keep you company through the rainy night. But when he opened the flaps of your tent you weren't there. Curious, but not worried, he went to Miss Grimshaw's tent to ask about you and make sure you had safely returned.

Miss Grimshaw is one of two people who knows the two of you were involved, catching you late one night on the outskirts of camp, where Arthur would take you to have some alone time in private. Arthur had been pushing you into a tree, all hot and bothered, both your lips intertwined, when she walked in and saw you, your hands on his shoulders, his hands on your ass. No words were exchanged but you saw her look at you in astonishment and leave. You felt mortified and sick to your stomach. Arthur started laughing, looking down at you, pecking your face.

"Don't worry, darlin', it's alright" he said in between chuckles, noticing the worry on your face.

"You say that because you don't have to work with her!" you replied, worried she'd punish you with extra work, or worse, by telling everybody else in camp. You had promised each other you'd keep the relationship a secret until you were comfortable enough to take the next step. Luckily for you, it seems she hasn't told anyone. Yet.

The only other person who knows about you two is Hosea, the only person in camp Arthur had trusted to tell. Of course, he didn't have much of a choice when Hosea asked Arthur one day why his eyes followed your every move with such undeniable affection. This embarrassed Arthur because he thought he was being discreet. But Hosea just knew him too well. He could tell when Arthur was smitten.

With dry clothes on his back, Arthur finally reaches Miss Grimshaw's tent and inquires. "Miss Grimshaw, where's Miss Y/N?"

"She's not back yet, I'm afraid. She told me she'd be back by now." Arthur's heart sinks, his worry coloring his face. "I'm sure she's fine, Arthur, don't worry", she says, trying to ease the troubled lover in front of her.

Arthur heads to his tent, opening the flaps so he can see you and your mare arriving, hoping that you are not far off. But he grows more distraught as time goes by and, when he sees the sunset approaching he decides he can no longer wait. He warns Miss Grimshaw he is going out to look for you and gets on his horse. He starts galloping furiously, fearing for the worst, hoping for the best.

He knows exactly which road you'd take to get back because he'd shown it to you a few weeks ago, on your way to one of your secret rendezvous. He's sure you would not stray from the path, knowing your fear of getting lost in the wilderness. You'd only venture into it with him by your side, needing him there to protect you.

The further he gallops the worst the storm gets and it doesn't take long for Arthur to get drenched again. The night is creeping in and with it comes an unrelenting wind. He despairs at the thought of you out in this cold storm that shows no signs of easing. He stops every mile or so to shout your name into the wind, hoping you hear him and he finds you. His voice grows louder each time, the desperation fueling him.

It's been hours since you left Emerald Station and since then you've been under the storm, getting colder as it rages. You kept thinking you could get back to camp so you pushed your horse through it, hoping the storm would ease on the way. Before reaching Twin Stack Pass, the downpour turned into a thunderstorm, the lightning growling around you. After the loudest one, your mare, already spooked, dropped you down on the ground before you had time to react. You watched as Rosemary galloped out of view and you realized you were stranded, your back aching from the fall. You didn't want to stray from the road, hoping that someone would ride by and take you someplace sheltered. You rested your back against a large rock nearby where you could flag down any riders and waited. You watched the sky as it grew darker, feeling your clothes getting heavier. You soon began to shiver, feeling your entire body grow cold and numb.

You started thinking of the times Arthur had taken you someplace out west or east, where you'd set up camp in a remote place, far from anyone alive. You would help Arthur gather some wood and light a fire, big enough to last through the night, burning bright enough that you could see each other's freckles and scars, your eyes gleaming like fireflies. He'd take you in his arms and you would let him, your moans echoing in the night, rivaled only by the sound of wolves up in the mountains.

You're thinking of Arthur and his warm touch on those campfire nights when echoes of his voice reach your ears. At first, you think it's another memory but you begin to realize his voice is real, jolting you to get up. You try to place where the voice is coming from, stumbling to the road so he can see you.

"Arthur!", you scream louder than you expect in your weariness, your voice weak from the cold. He turns to see you standing up ahead by the road. He rides to where you were, knots in his stomach from looking at you. Even though it's already nighttime, he can see your clothes are completely drenched and your skin is sickly pale by the light of his lantern. He dismounts and you lock eyes, relieved to see each other. As he touches your face and arms, he feels your chilled skin.

"It's ok, darlin', I'm here. I've found ya" he says. He kisses you on your blue lips, the coldest thing he's ever felt. He leans into your ear. "I'll keep ya warm now, ya hear?"

You're relieved that he is holding you now otherwise you might have collapsed to the ground. You've become so numb you can barely feel the rain falling. But the moment that man lays his hands on you you feel a shiver down your spine, stronger than any thunder in the sky. You could swear his kiss could have brought you back to life if he had found you dead.

"Rosemary she- she got scared" you whimper back, trying to explain what happened. He can see tears falling down your cheeks despite the rain.

"It's alright, I came to get ya. You're safe now, I promise" he vows, kissing your cheeks where the tears fall.

Overwhelmed with worry, he begins to prepare you for the journey back to camp, making sure you are as dry as possible. He takes off your coat, it is so damp with rain it no longer does you any favors. He sees your blouse is just as bad. "I think it's best if we take this off, ok?"

You nod in approval and he undresses you until you're in your chemise. He quickly takes off his coat and puts it on you, placing the sleeves around your arms, one at a time, closing the buttons as fast as he can. His coat, despite being wet, has a drier lining and his body heat lingers inside, feeling as warm as his touch. He places you on the saddle sideways and he seats behind you, getting ready to ride again. His body heat irradiates around you. You finally feel some relief.

You wrap your arms around his torso and he motions his hips forward so he can be closer to you, holding you in a tender embrace. Your hands touch his back and your head is on the crook of his neck, his jaw shielding your face from the rain. He untucks his shirt from his pants and guides your hands under it so you can warm them against his skin. Your touch makes him shiver. He reaches for his bedroll in the back of his horse, unfurls it over your shoulders, and adjusts it as best as he can to cover you. "You hold tight now, darlin'. We'll be there soon."

The horse takes off at breakneck speed as Arthur directs him back to camp, trying to lead you as far away as possible from the storm still raging around you. Your head sways with every gallop against his chest and neck and you can feel his warm skin against your cheek, his beard chaffing your wet hair. After a while, Arthur's body heat starts to make you feel warmer, the cowboy keeping his promise.

Despite your weariness, you lift your head to look into his eyes, seeking comfort in them, finding just that. You mean to thank him for saving you but somehow you're not able to speak and he tells you "Just rest now darlin', don't worry." You lay your head against his chest again and he rubs a hand on your back, soothing you as best as he can. After some time, the pace of the gallops starts making you sleepy and you dose off to the sound of Arthur's loud and frantic breathing, leaving the storm behind.

Chapter 2: Storm Behind ____________________________

You're not sure how long you're out until Arthur speaks to you again. "Y/N, sweetheart, ya need to wake up. We're here." You open your eyes and see that the rain has stopped and the horse has slowed. Arthur kisses you on your forehead to wake you up.

Before you come to a halt, Arthur beckons for Miss Grimshaw. "Miss Grimshaw! We need your help over here!"

She must not have been far as she is quick to answer. "What's the matter? What happened?"

"Miss Y/N here got caught in the storm. She needs to be warmed up."

"Of course. I'll draw her a warm bath. I'll heat the water right away. Girls, help Y/N get changed!"

You lift your head and stare at Arthur for a moment while he still holds you. At that moment all you want to do is kiss him, his piercing eyes watching you as you slightly shiver. He lets go of you slowly and removes the bedroll from your back, helping you down from the horse, making sure you don't stumble. Before you have a chance to say anything, Karen, Tilly, and Mary-Beth are leading you to your tent. You glance over your shoulder to look at Arthur who is still looking at you, swallowing hard as you fade out of sight.

The girls close your tent and help you undress, removing Arthur's wet coat off of you, your body still quivering. They remove all your other clothes, dry you with a towel and give you a soft nightgown with long sleeves and then wrap you up in the biggest quilt they can find. They help you walk to the camp's fire, sitting you in a chair in front of it, hoping it keeps you warm while the bath water heats up. Some members of the gang are chatting around the fire when you arrive, but the conversation goes silent when you seat down. Seeing you shake from the cold, they think it's best not to disturb you.

"Nice weather today, eh, fellas?" you joke, as you hold out your hands and feet closer to the fire. Mary-Beth hands you a warm cup of coffee that you start to sip when you hear loud footsteps and a deep voice.

"Miss Y/N can have my tent for the night, Miss Grimshaw. She'll be more comfortable there." You look up to see Arthur in a dry set of clothes, wearing that blue shirt you like so much.

"Very well." Miss Grimshaw removes the pot of hot water from the fire and sets out to draw your bath. Arthur sits down next to you, worry in his eyes.

"You ok, Miss Y/N?" Your name is said almost in a whisper.

"I will be after a warm bath," you say, voice still a little shaky. You break away from his gaze, fearing that other people around the fire might see you're sweet on each other. But you feel Arthur's eyes linger on you.

It isn't long before the girls help you to the tent where the bathtub is and they help you into it. At first, the warm water feels too hot, but after a moment the feeling subsides and you're no longer uncomfortable. You rest your head against the edge of the tub and notice how tired you are, you could sleep for a whole day.

Miss Grimshaw tells the girls it's late and they should get to bed since they have chores early in the morning. They all wish you well and leave and the tent goes quiet.

"You're lucky Mr. Morgan found you in time, Miss Y/N, or you may not have lived to tell the tale."

"I know, Miss Grimshaw." You're noticing how the water is warming you up when you hear Arthur's voice outside the tent.

"May I come in, Miss Grimshaw?"

She hesitates for a second. "I guess you can, Mr. Morgan, yes." Arthur walks in and sees you in the tub, lying naked, and he's quick to turn away, aware that the two of you are not alone.

"You should stay in that tub as long as the water remains hot, Miss Y/N. And make sure you sleep all bundled up. Let me know if I can do anything else."

"Thank you, Miss Grimshaw," replies Arthur.

"Good night, Mr. Morgan. Miss Y/N." She heads out of the tent before you can thank her too.

Arthur looks at you and sighs loudly, reaching out to grab your hand, noticing it's not as cold as it was before.

"Will you keep me company?" you ask, wanting nothing more.

"Of course, darlin'." He grabs a nearby chair and sits by your side, still holding your hand, keeping it warm.

You look into his eyes and finally say "Thank you for saving me."

"Anytime, precious." He kisses you on your temple and you melt. He sees your lips, now slightly turning pink, no longer the blue color they were when he kissed you a few hours before. He doesn't resist them and he places his lips on yours, the hairs on your neck standing up like they have done so many times with him. You'd put good money on betting that Arthur Morgan is the best damn kisser west of Saint Denis.

He seats looking at you while you soak in your bath and you rub a sponge up and down your body so you can get the circulation flowing, your body waking up as you get warmer. His eyes follow your fingers, sometimes stopping to look at your face. You hand him the sponge after a while. "Can you get my back for me?" and he abides, soaking your skin as soft as he can, trying to make it enjoyable.

After doing your shoulders, he moves onto your chest but he drops the sponge, caressing you with his hands instead. He starts massaging your breasts slowly with his warm fingers before he's met with a hushed "Arthur Morgan!" from you. He doesn't stop and when he grazes a nipple you react loudly with a moan that surprises both him and you.

"Shh, try not to wake everyone, will ya?" He gives you a devious chuckle. He keeps caressing your body for a while longer, his fingers warming you up where they land. You plead with him not to touch the soles of your feet, knowing how ticklish you are, but he just goes ahead and does it anyway. It makes you recoil in laughter and you splash some water at him in response, your favorite blue shirt now wet. Delighted by the moment, Arthur heads back to your side and kisses you again.

"The water's cold now," you say and he helps you out of the tub. He hands you a towel to dry yourself but you give into the urge to wrap your whole body around him, getting him even wetter. "Sorry."

He laughs a little at the ploy. "That's alright. Might just need to change clothes for the third time today." You let go of his embrace and he finishes drying you up with the towel, reaching in places so you don't have to move too much. He finishes with a chaste kiss on the last spot he dries, your collarbone. "We should get ya to the tent to get some rest."

You notice your weariness has grown despite Arthur taking your mind off of it. He helps you dress the nightgown, wraps you in the quilt, and sticks his head out of the tent, making sure no one sees him leave with you. You reach his tent and he closes the flaps behind him.

"How ya feeling? Any better?" He heads towards you, concern in his eyes.

"Yeah, much better. Thank you. A little tired", you lied.

"Ok, let's get ya down." He helps you lie down on his cot, then reaches for another winter quilt in his wagon and places it around you. "You need anything else, darlin'?"

"Just you."

He starts removing his wet clothes and notices his union suit is soaked from your earlier embrace. It's not long before he stands naked beside you. The sight makes you burn with desire and you get up before he reaches for new clothes. You're quick to undress before he even asks what you're doing. You only have one request.

"Hold me, won't you?"

He takes you up at your words and embraces you tenderly. "I wouldn't have it any other way." He reaches down and looks at your face. "I said I'd keep ya warm, didn't I?"

You hold each other naked for a moment, having dreamed of this moment in days past. You haven't been intimate like this for a while, with Arthur unable to get you out of camp. After the terrible night you've had, it seems like a salve on your souls. He brushes his fingers down your back and you hold him by his shoulders, drowning in his manliness. It almost feels like you're dancing.

When your eyes meet, you kiss once again. "I swear you're the best damn kisser west of Saint Denis," you confess out loud and he laughs, surprised by your compliment. He caresses your cheeks after a smile forms on you, relieved you're feeling well enough to tease him. The heat of his body and the smile on his face warm both your body and soul.

"We should lay down," he says to your relief as you feel your legs tremble from fatigue. He leads you to the cot and lays you down before he arranges both quilts, joining you after. He tries to pull you on top of him as much as he can so his skin can still warm every inch of you, your head placed on his chest while you brush his beard with your fingers. He looks down at the top of your head and kisses your hair gently. You think it's stupid he's kissing your hair and not your lips, so you lunge upwards and correct him. His fingers reach the side of your thighs and they caress you as your hands settle on his arms. The tender touching continues for a while but it soon fades as you become sleepy and your eyelids start to close. Seeing this, he pulls up the quilts to your shoulders, wrapping his arms around you underneath them. He was so busy caressing you that he failed to notice how warm you are starting to feel.

"I love you," you manage to let out before the warmth of Arthur Morgan cradles you to the sweet relief of slumber.

"I love you too, darlin'." He sees you drift off and closes his eyes, content with the weight of the one he loves on top of him, safe from any thunderstorm. Tonight it's him that dreams of you.

Chapter 3: A Secret No More ____________________________

Arthur wakes up at first light like always and sees you have drifted, your head on the pillow instead of him, which makes him a little sad. He softly touches your forehead and notices your temperature is back to normal, your lips a scarlet shade again. He sighs of relief.

Since he is free to move without waking you it gives him the chance to get up and get some coffee before anybody in camp sees he has slept in his tent with you. He tries to sneak to the percolator and get back as quickly as possible, but he gives up when he sees Hosea has already spotted him on his way over. Both men exchange their good mornings and Arthur pours himself a cup.

"So, how is she?" inquires Hosea. Arthur guesses he knows you have spent the night together but no longer feels the need to keep secrets from him.

"She's doing much better." He takes a sip.

"Quite the scare you had there, I reckon."

"Yeah, sure did. But she's stronger than she looks."

"I'm sure she has an excellent caregiver," quips Hosea.

Arthur lets out a soft smile. He takes a few more sips before he decides to head back.

"Don't forget to take a cup for the missus," says Hosea as he reaches out to give Arthur his mug. He pours two cups of coffee, nods to Hosea in thanks, and goes back to his tent, anxious to set eyes on you again.

When he finally does, the sight of you makes the coffee in him stir. You look so beautiful and peaceful on his cot he's completely enthralled. He seats on the chair in front of you and gazes at you, forgetting his coffee, floored by seeing you sleep in his own tent.

He remembers how just the morning before he had woken up all alone, your body laying on another tent on the other side of camp. Since your relationship began, you have never spent the night over for fear that someone would catch you leaving his tent in the morning. When you did come over, you'd make sure you never fell asleep and always sneaked back in the middle of the night, your shoes in your hand and his saliva on your lips.

Arthur would complain about you leaving him every time but you were always quick to remind him. "We promised nobody else should find out." Arthur was never one to break promises, especially to you. But leaving his arms in the middle of the night was about the cruelest thing you ever did to him. As much as you wanted to give in to him, you never did, your mind plagued by the image of Miss Grimshaw's eyes watching you.

But things are different this morning. For the first time, Arthur watches you in his tent in a whole new morning light and it dawns on him how much he wants to see this at every sunrise.

He realizes that hiding your relationship from the rest of the camp is idiotic, he doesn't care if people know about you two anymore. He is ready to face the stares and ridicule, the jokes from Sean, the sneers from Micah. He thinks that will be a fair price to pay for the privilege of having you sleep by his side.

You had said your I love yous last night and he is confident that if he proposes this to you, you will accept. He begins to squirm in his seat in anticipation, hoping you wake up soon. As if by telepathy, or the noise of his chair, you do.

You open your eyes to see a dashing cowboy sitting in a chair, his face serious in thought. For a second you think something's happened and he's about to tell you bad news.

"Hey, sweetheart. How are ya?" He leans over to kiss you and his lips land on your nose and then your temple.

"Better, I think." You wiggle your toes and touch your belly. You feel normal.

He grabs your hands from under the quilts and kisses them, front and back. "You feel a whole lot better too."

He suddenly looks back at you with that same pensive stare. "What's wrong?" you say quickly as he starts to frighten you.

"Nothing. Everything's fine. Been thinking about you is all."

It's a little too early for subtlety so you blurt out "What about?"

"Well..." he pauses, unsure of how to put it. He sits on the chair again and looks at his hands. You sit upright so you can face him. "I don't want to keep you a secret no more."

Your heart leaps out of your chest. This is the sexiest thing you've ever heard. "You mean it?"

"Yeah, darlin'. I think we should give that up." He lingers on his hands, almost afraid of your reaction. When he looks up he's surprised by a ravenous kiss from you. Without parting from his lips, you wrap your arms around him and seat on one of his knees. As he realizes what your answer is, he kisses you back with even more vigor.

When you disconnect, you see his eyes sparkle as the first rays of sunshine sneak into the tent. "Is that what you want too?" He'd like verbal confirmation, if you please.

You nod, heart leaping. "Yes! You sweet man!" You both look at each other smiling as he holds you in his arms, realizing you've wanted nothing else but this. You linger for a while as the silent vow you take makes its way from your head into your heart.

"So how are we supposed to tell everyone?" you ponder all of the sudden. "If we're not a secret, how do we tell people we're together?"

"I dunno." He hasn't thought things this far.

"It's not like we can advertise it in the papers!" you joke. "Maybe we tell Karen and let her run her mouth? Or Sean? Both?"

Then Arthur gets a glint in his eye. "Get dressed, will ya?"

Without questioning him, you head to your tent and dress the first thing you can find. It's that skirt and blouse combo Arthur likes so much. You're dressed before he even reaches your tent.

"You trust me?" he asks and your heart races, unaware of his intent. You give him the biggest smile as a yes and he locks your fingers with his. He starts dragging you through camp so fast you can barely keep up. He comes to a sudden stop and you bump into him.

"Sit with me," he says. You both sit down on the same log by the campfire, you're the only ones there. You sit facing each other, gazing at each other's eyes and holding each other's hands. You stay like this for either 30 seconds or 30 minutes before you speak.

"So, is this your plan?" you say smiling stupidly.

"Yeah. I guess so." He smiles stupidly too.

Now you're two stupid fools in love sitting at a campfire holding hands.

You hold your positions while everybody else in camp gets up and prepares for the day. People come and go all around you, some sit down by the fire while they have breakfast. You and Arthur keep holding hands for the entire time, unfazed by the staring, hoping the plan works.

At some point you hear Karen behind you: "Well, what have we here, then?"

___

As much as he is enjoying the plan, and he is enjoying it, Arthur eventually gets up to get you a bowl of oatmeal for breakfast. "Eat up. You've got to keep your strength up."

You're thinking it's gonna be a delightful day of him pampering you so it pains you to hear him say he has to ride out to Valentine for the day with John and Charles. Something about some plan, surely one not nearly as brilliant as the one you just pulled.

You remain by the campfire as he gives you his goodbye. "Now you take care of yourself today, ya hear?" He kisses you full on the lips and lingers on them, unperturbed by the onlookers.

Now you're no longer his secret, you're his confession.

Miss Grimshaw relieves you of your chores for the day so you don't strain yourself, her reason being you're still recovering from last night. You're somewhat certain it's because Arthur would give her hell if she didn't let you rest.

Throughout the day, you mostly read and sit around the fire, keeping warm, trying to ignore everyone as they beckon for your attention so they can pry about you and Arthur. You try to play dumb as you reply with "I can't hear you. The storm left me deaf!"

The only person that you talk to is Hosea who approaches you with a book in hand. "Mind if I keep you company, Miss Y/N?"

"Of course not." You'd never deny the man anything, not even your last quarter. You discuss your reading material and exchange book recommendations, you're always excited by his suggestions. After that you read in silence as you've often done in the past.

When he interrupts the silence, he does so in a stern tone. "I'm sorry, my dear. But I've gotta ask this." You bookmark your book and close it. He looks at you in the most serious manner you've ever seen in him. "What are your intentions with Arthur?"

You feel a cold shiver run through you, colder than anything you felt last night. Of all the questions you expected today about your relationship with Arthur, this was not one of them, especially from him. As you try to summon an answer, you feel your mouth go dry.

"I- I- We- Well," You can't think of words. "We- we mean a lot to each other and-"

Hosea interrupts you with the biggest laugh you've ever heard. The camp goes quiet as people stop to hear the racket and your cheeks blush as you realize what this means. "I'm just teasing you, Miss Y/N!" He struggles to catch his breath. "Please forgive me, my dear. Just couldn't resist."

If this was anyone else you would've kicked them by now. But after a bit you start to think it's pretty funny, you probably would have done the same thing.

When he's calm, he reaches out to touch your shoulder. "I sincerely hope it all turns out well, my dear. I wish you the best." He gets up and motions to leave before he stops. "If you care for him as much as he cares for you, I don't think it can ever go wrong. Just be gentle now." He winks you a goodbye.

His words of encouragement leave you thinking about the commitment you made that morning and the man that dared make it with you.

___

It's the middle of the afternoon when you wake up very disoriented from a long nap. You struggle to open your eyes when you see the canvas of a tent that is not yours. It's the picture of Copper to your right that tells you where you are and when you see it you begin to panic.

In your confused state, you bolt upright to put on your boots as fast as possible before anyone can catch you in Arthur's tent. You're already planning an escape route when it finally hits you that you and Arthur are no longer a secret item, the memory of that morning coming back to you. You feel embarrassed with yourself and you slump back into the cot as you call yourself an idiot. As you lay on his pillow, you smell Arthur's scent and you grab it, holding it in your arms as you think of him.

After a moment you sit up again to put on the remaining boot and you spruce up the place a little, removing any signs of your nap. You think it'll be lovely to decorate the tent with some nice flowers so you head out to search for them. It's unfortunate someone catches you on your way out.

"Moving in already, I see." Dutch speaks from the inside of his tent.

"No, just returning something that isn't mine," you try to lie.

"For now."

As you make your way through camp, you hear a horse approaching and for a second you leap at the thought that it's Arthur's. You're completely astonished when you see it's none other than your mare, Rosemary. You almost run to greet her as she approaches her usual hitching post. She strolls in casually, as if she's pretending last night didn't happen.

"Rosemary!" you yell out as she ignores you, reaching for some hay on the ground. "Where have you been, girl?" You can't help but shower her with affection when you reach her. Her black mane and tail are disheveled due to last night's storm, but she seems fine. Her pearly white coat is shiny from the rain. Somehow the saddle is still in place and your bags are still attached. You reach for some carrots and feed them to her as she willingly takes them.

"This your horse, Miss Y/N?" Javier approaches you as he dismounts from his horse, Boaz.

"Yes. I don't know how, but she found her way back to camp! Isn't that some miracle?" You start to brush her as she reaches for more hay.

"She's a fine horse." He pats her gently on her back. "A new boyfriend and a miracle horse. Some people have all the luck!"

You can't help but smile a little at his remark. You're just too happy to have Rosemary back.

You're almost done grooming her when you remember to check your uncle's package that you went pick up at Emerald Station. Luckily for you, the package is small enough to fit in the saddle bag and you find it still wrapped, unharmed by the storm. You wonder what could be so small. "Thank you for getting this to me, girl." You feed another carrot to Rosemary for a job well done.

You unravel the brown wrapping paper to find a small wooden fancy box and a  note:

For my favorite niece as she embarks on a new beginning in New Hanover. May you hang your hat where your heart desires and may you be the happiest there. I wish you the best. All my love, Your Uncle Frederic

You hold the note to your chest for a brief moment as you remember your uncle with the utmost affection. You gently open the box to reveal the most beautiful hatpin you've ever seen.

You smile as the tiny white crystals on its pinhead glisten with the afternoon sun. A small breeze tickles the hairs on your neck. Rosemary neighs for another treat.

____

It's already nighttime when Arthur finally arrives with John and Charles. You head to greet him when you hear John argue with him.

"There's no sense in wasting our time, Arthur! Let's do it quick and get it over with!" You can see they're both flushed by the argument. You used to get that same color when you had a spat with your older sister back in the day.

"I seem to recall that the last time you tried to do something quick, some wolves carved their names on ya." Arthur quiets down the moment he sees you and lets a wide smile escape his lips. You do the same.

John tries to keep the quarrel going but he's met with silence. You hang back a bit before you approach them, letting them dismount and head to camp before you and Arthur can be alone.

"Good luck with this dingbat, Y/N. I don't know what you see in such an ass!" John utters his insults loudly as he walks by you to make sure Arthur hears them. But as far as you're concerned, Arthur's ass is no insult at all.

"Evening." Charles greets you solemnly, clearly exhausted from having to ride alongside the other two.

You look back at Arthur and see his smile hasn't waned from his face. Neither has yours.

He approaches you and before you know it he gives you the most passionate kiss, nearly pinning you down to the ground as he bends you backward. You try to get him to back off as you begin to gasp for air. He eventually subsides.

"What was it that you said? 'Best kisser west of Saint Denis', was it?" he reminds you as you try to catch your breath.

"You saw who came back?" you nod over to Rosemary by the stabled horses.

"Would you look at that! I told ya she's a keeper." He looks down at you again. "Who wouldn't want to come back to ya?"

He looks like he's gonna kiss you again but he suddenly motions his index finger over his lips. And then you hear it. Sean and Karen are approaching you, clearly having something to drink. What's worse is they're talking about you.

"They make a great couple!" Karen blurts it out like she means it.

"I'm just glad the Englishman is finally getting laid! Maybe now he can stop being such a bastard!" Sean is tipsier than her.  

Arthur does not wait to hear the rest of the conversation. "Let's get outta here." He leads you to his tent as he grabs your hand. This time he's not hiding you, but shielding you from the horrors of camp. You're especially thankful tonight.

____

When you finally sit down at his cot, he leans back and lets you cuddle around him. He smells the flowers you picked that afternoon before putting them back on the vase.

"So, how did the fellas take the news?" you ask him, inquiring about the execution of your morning plan.

"Well... It turns out... They already knew about us." He sighs.

"Yeah, well, so did the girls it seems."

"Guess we didn't do much of a job hiding it." He chuckles repeatedly.

"I guess not." You mimic him.

You look at each other and before you know it you are both laughing uncontrollably.  

"I guess we just love each other too much to hide it." You suggest.

"I guess so." He nods in agreement.

"I haven't shown you what my uncle sent me!" You fiddle with your skirt as you try to find the pocket that holds the box with the hatpin. You open it and show it to Arthur.

"That's beautiful, Y/N!"

You touch the hatpin with your fingertips but don't remove it from the box, scared you'll break it. "My uncle has great taste. Just like mamma." Arthur squeezes your shoulder at the mention of your mother, knowing how much you miss her.

You sit up and place some of your belongings on Arthur's side table. "You think I can leave my things here? I don't want to go back tonight."

"Sure." It takes a moment for him to understand your words. "You ain't going back to your tent then?"

"Not tonight, no." You look forward to waking up and seeing the unfamiliar canvas of his tent again.

"You won't sneak out in the middle of the night either?" he asks with puppy eyes.

"No, not anymore." You lean in for a small kiss. "It's my turn to keep you warm." He reaches for another and holds his position.

You remove Arthur's hat as it gets in the way and you place it on the side table, next to your hatpin and your Uncle's note.

May you hang your hat where your heart desires and may you be the happiest there.

_____________

A/N: So I looked into treatments of hypothermia and turns out you are NOT supposed to take a hot bath after!! It's a big no no! You are suppose to let the person warm up gradually by removing all the wet clothes and using warm towels. But! This is a work of fiction and so I left it in. Getting Arthur wet was too good to leave out.

Skin to skin contact is an acceptable form of treatment though! So getting naked together is very much encouraged!!  ;)

[allzelemonz]

Brotherly Advice: Sean MacGuire X Male Reader

Pronouns: None Mentioned, Reader is referred to as ‘boy’ and ‘man’. Physical Sex: AMAB Rating: E/Smut Warnings: Sean never shuts up, Sean is loud during sex, top Reader and bottom Sean, Arthur is a helpful big brother, walked in on, handjob, grinding, anal sex, cuddling Summary: Stealing a moment away from camp is much harder when Sean makes so much noise.

The laughter from the fire carries all over camp and the singing goes even further. The off-key high notes fueled by a few bottles of liquor isn’t nearly enough to distract you from the task at hand. Sean is stuck to you like glue, pinning you against a tree as he presses sloppy kisses to your neck. Your hands are diligently working at the fastenings of his pants, trying to ignore his occasional giggle.

“Oh, the things ya do ta me, big man.” Sean mumbles against your skin as you tug his pants down.

You tilt his head towards you and press a kiss to his lips that he melts into, his hands clinging to your shirt. He ruts up against you and you bend your knee for him. He moans against your mouth, breaking the kiss to be his loud self.

“Damn, Sean.” Arthur laughs from a few feet away.

“Shit!” Sean stumbles, nearly falling from his pants around his ankles.

“What the hell, Arthur?” You groan, leaning back against the tree.

Sean struggles to get his pants back up, hopping until he ultimately falls on his back and groans in pain. 

“I’m sorry.” He laughs. “You boys was just bein’ so loud out here, you was either gonna get me or Miss Grimshaw and I thought I’d be less embarrassing’.”

“Loud?” You ask. “Him, not me.”

“Well, it’d do ya both some good to quiet down er go a little further aways out.”

“You’re just jealous, English.” Sean laughs, finally managing to get his pants up after rolling in the dirt.

Arthur puts his hands up. “Just givin’ ya a little advice.”

“Our caring big brother!” Sean mocks. “Thank ya, Arthur.”

“Just quiet down before it’s Miss Grimshaw yellin’ at ya.”

“Thanks fer protectin’ us from ma!” Sean yells after Arthur as he walks away.

You laugh, shaking your head as Sean stands up from the ground. He stumbles, even without his pants to trip him.

“Come on, big man. I know a spot down the hill aways.” Sean says, grabbing your hand and dragging you with him.

He winds between the trees as best he can, clinging to you on the occasion that he trips. A few more yards away from camp, where you can no longer hear the terrible singing, Sean turns to you and brings you to a large rock, pulling you close so you pin him to it. You lean down to kiss him and his fists find their way back to clutching your shirt. You unfasten his pants again, followed by your own. Sean is quick to get his hands on you, giving you a few strokes with spit covered hands as he sucks a mark onto the sensitive skin of your neck. Your grip at his hair and he moans from the slight tug.

“Don’t make me beg now.” Sean says, pressing his forehead to yours.

You press a kiss to his nose with a smile and press him further back against the rock. He obliges, making it easy for you to line yourself up. He groans as you push in, your arms half holding him up so he sinks onto you. You give him a minute, his head buried in your neck as he adjusts. He presses a light kiss to your skin in encouragement and you start to move slowly. He whines with every movement out and seems wholehearted incapable of closing his mouth. You rock into him, increasing the pace as meaningless words fall from him. Some strings of pet names and begging as he clings to you with every thrust. As he nears his end, you wrap a hand around his dick and try to match strokes with your thrusts. The words turn into unplaceable sounds when he releases, his body going tense for a moment and then limp as you continue your thrusts and chase your own end. Sean clings to you as you release inside of him, pressing soft kisses along your jaw. He whines as you pull out, leaning back against the rock for support.

His head lulls back and he laughs. “Oh, I love ya, big man. Ya know that? I really do. I really, really do.”

“I know, Sean.” You say, pulling up your pants. “I love you too.”

You tug his pants up his legs and he pulls you in for a kiss as you fasten them. His hands cup your face, holding you still as his messy kiss conveys the heavy taste of whiskey.

He hums. “The night’s still young, love. What d’ya say we have some more fun, huh?”

His hand trails down to rub you through your pants but you grab his wrist before he does too much damage. He groans in opposition, letting his head rest against yours.

“We’ll have plenty of time tomorrow when half the camp’s out on that job.” You whisper, pressing a kiss to his nose.

You back up, pulling him with you back to camp. He stumbles along, clutching your hand a little too tightly. You avoid the campfire and go around the outside of camp to get to your tent with minimum interaction. Sean pulls you down to lay on the bedroll before you can protest.

“If you’re makin’ me go ta bed ya gotta sit here fer a cuddle.” He mumbles, pulling you as close as he can.

You smile, pressing a kiss to his head. His arms fix themselves firmly around your torso and he buries his head into your chest. You return the hold and get comfortable. Sean won’t let go of you any time soon.

[daisyblog]

Good Girl

The Royal Family Series Masterlist

Maia’s POV As we had planned last night, we were in our usual VIP club in London, but standing in the corner dressed in black were Tom and Hudson, my two guards. We had met here a couple of hours ago and it was safe to say the alcohol in our system was taking effect, especially after Jack and James insisted we all do a round of shots.

As usual, Ellie and Jake sat in the booth only having eyes for each other, despite them insisting they were “only friends”. Grace, James, Jack and I were all on the dancefloor, when Uptown Funk began blaring from the clubs' speakers. The four of us began jumping around and singing along.

‘cause uptown funk gon’ give it to you..woo ‘cause uptown funk gon’ give it to you ‘cause uptown funk gon’ give it to you Saturday night and we in the spot Don’t believe me..just watch

As Grace and I were hanging on to each other, laughing hysterically at our awful dance moves, James’ voice broke us from our bubble.

“Oh my fucking god”. His dramatic tone filled our ears as we stood huddled together.

“What? What is it?” Jack asked as he was trying to look in the same direction James was looking in.

“Pinch me now” James vaguely said as he stood and stared.

“I’ll fucking punch you if you don’t tell us what you’re looking at” Jack had zero patience.

“It’s Harry fucking Styles”. The name instantly causing me to search for the man himself.

Instantly my head spun around in the hope my eyes find him quickly. “What? Where? Tell me where?” I frantically said, and that’s when I saw him tucked in the corner with two other men chatting away with a drink in his hand.

“Ooo I’ve got an idea…let’s do a dare!” Jack interrupted my stare.

“I dare you to piss off”. James rolled his eye at Jack’s idea, making Grace and I laugh.

“Maia…I dare you to go over there and pretend you’re someone else”. Jack instructed as he took a sip of his drink.

Grace and James looked at him like he was crazy, well he was but that’s another story. “’cause he’s really gonna believe that isn’t he…he saw her last night you idiot”. James argued.

Sober me wouldn’t have accepted the dare but Maia with a system full of alcohol was not going to miss the opportunity of talking with a beautiful man. “Give me one of those” I spoke as I picked up a shot from the tray beside us and downed it. “Wish me luck!”. I said before walking towards Harry and the two men, recognising them, Nick Grimshaw and James Corden. As I approached the group, I stumbled over my own foot and ended up falling into Harry.

“You alright love?”. Harry’s deep and raspy voice interrupted my embarrassment.

“Bloody ‘ell am I that pissed or is that Princess Maia?” Nick sassily asked.

James chuckled at the scene “That was smooth Styles…only you could have a Princess falling into your arms”. The tree men chuckling at the reality.

“I-I’m so sorry” I stuttered as I moved from Harry’s grip.

“S’alright…shit we didn’t bow” Harry panicked.

“Please don’t fucking bow at me” I insisted as I flattened my dress out, feeling myself sober up slightly after embarrassing myself. “I’m going to sound crazy…but my friends over the just dared me to come over here and pretend I wasn’t actually me..but I ruined it”.

“Did you honestly think that was gonna work darling?” Nick asked as he giggled.

“A dares a dare” I shrugged my shoulders.

“Who were you gonna be?” James asked.

“No idea..anyone but me” I laughed.

“C’mon then..carry out your dare..we’ll play along with you” Harry spoke from the side of me.

“Uh…okay..hang on..let me prepare myself” I dramatically requested making the three of them laugh “Okay…I’m ready”.

“Hiya love..I’m Harry..who are you?” Harry spoke with a smirk on his face, clearly enjoying this.

“Hi..I’m..um..To-Townes” I hesitated.

“Townes?” Nick chucked again “I fucking love this girl”.

“First thing that popped into my head” I laughed with him.

“Is that even a name?” James asked, taking a sip of his drink.

“And where are you from Townes?” Harry continued the dare, still wearing a smirk.

Why did I agree to this? “Uh..uh…England but I’ve got family in Carolina” I thought quickly and feeling proud of myself.

“What have you been drinking?” Harry broke his smirk and chuckled instead.

“I don’t even fucking know…but that was all a lie..I blame the books I read” I revealed “Anyway..I’m really sorry for interrupting your night”

“Don’t be silly” “You’ve made my night” “You didn’t” the three spoke at the same time.

“Let me get you drinks to apologise” I thought and before they could answer I found the shot tray that was still on our table.

“Maia..what are you doing?” Grace asked.

“Don’t ask..I failed the dare”

I made my way back over to thr three in the corner, carrying the tray of shots. “C’mon you three let’s do a shot”

“Bloody hell…’aven’t you had ‘nough darling” Nick teased.

“Don’t worry about me ‘darling’” I mimicked “It would take a lot to sink me”. I handed each of them a shot “Ready..3..2..1..” and we all downed the shot, Harry and James grimaced at the taste, making me laugh.

“I hate shots” James revealed as he wiped his lips.

“So did you enjoy the show last night?” Harry changed the topic.

“Yes it was amazing..my friends are super jealous…my friend James over there-“

“The one that keeps looking over?” Harry interrupted whilst looking over in their direction.

“Yes..he’s a big fan”

“Bigger fan than you?” Harry teased.

“Hmm…that’s a tough one”

“You and James should come to another show” Harry suggested as he looked back in my direction.

“Is that an invite?” I raised my eyebrows.

“Maybe” he smirked “How would I send you an invite?” I knew he was a joker and a little flirt but was this him being friendly or am I that intoxicated?

I smiled at him, both of us staring at each other “We still live in the old days..so I’m afraid you’ll have to send it by pigeon” I tried to keep a serious face, but Harry burst into laugher.

“You’re funny…I guess you won’t receive an invitation then”

After thinking and going against the rule of ‘don’t give your number to anyone’ “You can text me, but you can’t tell anyone I’ve given you my number…can’t ruin my good girl reputation” I sarcastically said.

“How do I know you won’t leak my number?” Harry joked, tipping his head to the side as he wore his famous smirk.

After exchanging numbers, I spoke “You'll just have to trust me” I teased and walked back over to my friends but as I glanced over my shoulder, Harry was pouting his lips trying not to smirk.

---

Being woken up abruptly by a loud knocking on my door, I instantly jumped up in bed and regretted it as my head spun. I shouldn't have drunk so many shots last night! Slipping on a jumper and padding through the flat towards my front door, I opened it and there stood William with a frown on his face.

"What?" I snapped, annoyed that he was knocking on my door early in the morning.

"Are you asking for trouble?" He stood there, his eyebrows raised with a series expression covering his face.

"What are you talking about Wills?" I asked, walking back into the kitchen to get a glass of water.

"You've been pictured out last nig-". Not giving him chance to finish, I interpreted.

"Oh wow...what a crime" I sarcastically said and took a sip of my water.

"Less of the attitude" he warned with raised eyebrows. “You’ve been pictured with that boy from that band you like".

"Harry, his name is Harry..how can you not know that?" I rolled my eyes.

"I don't care..what were you doing with him?" William quizzed.

"I was out with my friends..he just happened to be at the club and we got talking..no big deal" I shrugged.

"It doesn't look good does it?". William continued to press. Still disappointment on his face.

"Wills..I haven't done anything wrong..am I not allowed to talk to anyone now either" I huffed and crossed my arms.

"Mimi you know what it's like..we can't..we can't talk or look at anyone without them making a story about it". He tried to sympathise.

"So what's the story they've made up this time then?" I asked.

William took his phone from his back pocket and after scrolling and a few taps, he passed his phone to me showing me the article.

Princess Maia and Harry Styles getting cosy in London Nightclub

Last night, Sunday evening, Princess Maia was spotted partying with some friends in a club in London. It's no surprise that the Princess was enjoying herself, dancing and following her brother Prince Harry's rebellious ways. The onlooker told us "She was just being like any other girl that age, out with some friends, laughing and downing shots".

What did surprise us was seeing the Princess and Boyband member Harry Styles getting cosy. The Princess and Prince Harry attended a One Direction concert on Saturday night, where she was seen dancing and singing along to their songs. The onlooker reported, "I was so shocked when I turned around and saw the Princess and Harry Styles laughing together, it looked like they had known each other for a long time". Harry Styles was accompanied by James Corden and Nick Grimshaw.

Are they friends, or are they more?

"I hate that I can't just be normal and talk to someone without it being made into something more" I angrily stated, giving William his phone.

"I know..it's hard" he sympathised.

"I'm assuming I'm not in the good books again".

"I told Papa and Granny that I would come over and find out if it was true" he calmly said.

"Great..I'm in for it at dinner this evening then...do I even have to come?".

"Yes you do" William sternly said "Plus you can have cuddles with Lottie and George".

"Fine..you've won me over" I sighed.

---

After William left, I made some breakfast, had a shower and dressed into some cosy clothes before checking my phone. Shit..I gave Harry my number last night. Noticing some messages from my friends, I ignored them whilst I contemplated texting him to apologise for the article that was written. After some thinking, I'd decide to bite the bullet and began tapping on the screen Maia Hey Harry, It's Maia. I'd like to apologise for my behaviour last night, alcohol and me obviously don't mix. I'm also sorry about the article that's been written about us, I hope it hasn't caused too much drama for you.

After clicking send, I sat and waited for a response. What if he doesn't reply? What if he's angry? What if he hates me? What if his management is angry? What if - interrupting my worries, my phoned pinged in front of me.

Harry Styles Morning Princess. That was a very formal message. I was hoping for something else after your cheekiness last night and of course how cosy we were x

Was he flirting? Am I dreaming? What does one do when Harry Styles is flirting?

Maia Me...cheeky, I don't think so Styles x

Harry Styles Oh I forgot, you're a good girl 😉 x

Maia I am, I'm an angel! xx

Harry Styles That's a lie x

Maia Just you wait and see Styles xx

---

As I walked through Buckingham Palace and towards the dining room, I could hear muffled voices. Tom and Hudson waited outside the room, whilst I continued to walk in.

"Oh Maia, there you are" My grandfather greeted. Since I was little, I've always had a unique and loving relationship with my grandfather, Some might say I was his favourite Granddaughter.

"Hi Grandpa" I hugged him and he placed a kiss on my cheek. "Evening Granny" I turned to my grandmother and curtsied, before going to sit next to my brother Harry who was sitting opposite William and Kate.

"You look lovely Maia" my Grandmother complimented and I thanked her, relieved that they weren't angry with me.

"Where's Papa?" I asked them. Noticing that my father and Camila were missing.

"They're not here yet" William stated.

"So..Maia I've got a new favourite song" Harry began, we all looked at him confused "It goes...'cause we never go out of style, we never go out of style..you got that long hair, slicked back, white t-shirt..."

"You're not funny" I rolled my eyes at his teasing.

"Wills..where's George and Charlotte?" I asked looking around for my nephew and niece. He looked towards Kate with a guilty expression "I hate you right now..you said they'd be here".

"Maia..do not talk like that young lady" my grandmother scolded, "I think you have caused more than a stir already don't you think".

I put my head down and kept my eyes on the white tablecloth in front of me as my father and Camila walked in greeting everyone. "Oh Maia, how was your night last night?" Papa asked, sarcasm dripping from his tone.

"Papa..the article over-exaggerated it...we were just talking" I explained as he looked directly at Granny with raised eyebrows.

"'cause you got that James Dean daydream look in your eye" Harry hums and I nudge him with my elbow, making him chuckle and Kate is trying desperately hard not to laugh.

"Anyway..why would it matter if the article was true...Wills and Kate have been seen getting cosy as you put it before" I argued.

"Kate is a respectful young lady, not a rockstar" Papa responded.

"I think he looks...what's the word the youths use these days...cool..I think he looks cool" Grandpa randomly interrupted, making us laugh. That's the thing with Grandpa, he never took anything too seriously and would crack jokes at inappropriate times.

"He's very cool Grandpa" Harry agreed nodding his head.

"You need to be sensible Maia" Granny continued the conversation.

"I will Granny" before I turned to Papa "I promise".

---

After dinner this evening, I was back in my flat and changed into some pyjamas with a film playing in the background and a cup of tea in my hand. I'd replied to messages from my friends asking me about the article and if I'd gotten into trouble, when his named apperaed on my phone.

Harry Styles Are you flirting Princess? x

Reading the text gave me butterflies and I felt like a teenager all over again. but avoiding the question I typed a reply.

Maia My Grandpa thinks you're cool x

Harry Styles You're Grandpa is cool. So did you get into trouble? x

Maia Nothing I couldn't handle xx

Harry Styles Does that mean we can't get 'cosy' again? x

Maia Very bold of you 😂 x

Harry Styles Me? Bold? No definitely not x

---

Since Monday evening, Harry and I had been messaging back and forth, a few cheeky texts here and there. Harry explained the band had a few days off before travelling to the Manchester shows. He had invited me and my friends to the shows but I politely had to decline, not wanting to add more fuel to the fire.

So instead I'd invited him over, for some dinner. I had just finished getting ready when my phone buzzed with a text from Harry saying he was outside. I felt really nervous to see him in person again. Walking outside my flat, I sent Tom to the main gate to let Harry in. I watched them both walk towards my flat, allowing me to take in his appearance.

"Hi" I waved as he approached me, sunglasses still covering his eyes.

"Hey" He smirked.

"Come in...thanks Tom, thanks Hudson" to which they both bowed their head in response.

Harry followed me and took his boots off by the door before we walked into the living area. "Waw..I didn't expect this from the outside" he commented whilst looking around the room.

"Let me guess you were expecting big chandeliers and awful posh decor" I teased, as I sat down on the cream sofa, Harry following sitting on the opposite side and taking his sunglasses off and placing them on the pink pouffe in front of us.

He chucked at the assumption "Uh..yeh suppose so...it's very you though".

"Is that a good thing?" I giggled.

"Yeh..it is" he smiled over at me. Those dimples!

"Do you want a drink?" I offered.

"Uh yeh, please...water will be fine thanks".

I walked into the kitchen, got us both glasses of water and took them back into the living room, to find Harry looking at my bookshelf filled with books and photos.

"S-sorry..I was just looking" he frantically apologised and ran his fingers through his hair.

"It's fine..you can look" I reassured him and went to sit back down on the sofa, placing the glasses on the pouffe. I watched as he picked up the photo of me, my two brothers and Mum, his lips twitching up into a small smile.

"You've got your Mum's eyes and smile" he complimented. Glancing between me and the photo.

"Do you think?" I shyly asked, picking up my glass of water to take a sip.

He still had the photo frame in his hand "Yeh...she was a beautiful lady..my Mum was in awe of her". He placed the photo down and took his previous spot on the sofa.

"I-I...I..um..I don't really have many memories with her that I remember...so I love listening to other people talk about her" I admitted.

"I'm sorry" he apologised.

I couldn't help but laugh "Why are you saying sorry?"

He shrugged his shoulders "Dunno...just..can't imagine how you must have felt".

"I was three...I didn't understand...I still don't if I'm honest".

"Well she would definitely be proud of you" he tried to lighten the mood.

"Maybe..not of everything I do" I raise my eyebrows.

"Hmm...maybe not" he teased.

"Someone's got to keep it real" I sassily flicked my hair over my shoulder, Harry didn't say anything just kept staring "Why are you staring at me?" I asked paranoid I had something on my face.

"You're just different".

"Different?".

"In a good way..like you're just really humble" he complimented.

"Thank you...so shall we have dinner?"

We decided to make a vegetable stir fry and sat by the table to eat and talk. Harry was in the middle of explaining how he was looking forward to spending time with his family when the band have a break, when my phone buzzed from the kitchen counter, I muttered a 'sorry' as I got up to get it.

"Shit!” I muttered as I saw who was calling.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked with concern.

"It's my brother" I swiped the FaceTime call to accept. Harry's face popping up on the screen.

"Hey Henry" I said nervously.

"Mimi..do you want to come over?" my brother asked.

I glanced at Harry quickly to the side of me before answering "Uh..I..I can't right now"

My brother narrowed his eyes at me through the screen "Why?"

"I..I just can't"

"I'll come to you then"

"No" I answered too quickly and he raised his eyebrows suspiciously "I mean...I'm busy"

"Busy doing what..or should I say who?" This made Harry choke on his water next to me "Who was that?"

"No one"

"Mimi" he warned "Is that James Dean?"

"Piss off with that song will you"

"Hi Harry" my brother said with a big grin on his face, making Harry's eyes widen next to me.

"Uh..Hi"

"Henry..don't you dare" I warned him.

"What..I'm just being friendly" he argued.

"No you're being annoying"

"I'll leave you to it, bye Mimi...behave yourself...bye Harry"

"Bye" Harry and I said together.

As I ended the call, I put my face into my hands "UGH"

"What's wrong?" Harry chuckled.

"My brother won't let me hear the end of this" I whined.

"What..why did he call me James Dean?" Harry asked as he ran his fingers through his hair.

"Taylor Swift's song...you know 'cause you got that James Dean daydream look in your eye" I sang part of the song.

"Aww...has he teased you about me before?"

"Yes..at our family dinner the other day"

"I'm guessing your family are not to fond of the thought of you being associated with me" Harry looked sad, almost hurt.

"No..no..it's not that" I began to explain "Look...it's complicated...it's not personal towards you..It's..I don't know how to explain it to you...but even though my grandmother is the Queen..we've got like an institute that we're answerable to..and..let's just say I've pushed their buttons a fair few times"

"For not following the rules?"

"Yes..exactly..doesn't mean I'm going to start listening but I don't want to drag you into my rumours and dramas Harry"

"What..what if that doesn't bother me?"

"W-what..I...what do you mean?"

"Well..I..I I'd like to get to know you...as in Maia..and not a Princess"

I was lost for words, nobody has ever wanted to know me for me. Everyone has always been interested in getting to know the Queen's granddaughter and the daughter of Diana and Charles. I didn't realise a tear had run down my cheek, until Harry swiped his thumb across my cheek.

"I'm sorry..I-I-I...I didn't mean to make you cry" he stuttered.

"Y-ou..didn't..It's..nobody has ever wanted to get to know me for me" I sniffled.

"That makes two of us...c'mere" he spoke and opened his arms to pull me into his chest and squeeze me tight "So..what do you say about me and you Angel?"

Tag List: (let me know if you would like to be added) @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @harrys-flower @platinumbarbie143 @frickin-bats @harrysbbyh0ney fanfictioncafe lilfreakjez jerseygirlinca iamahallucinationnn @chronicallybubbly @goldensunflowe-r  @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @kaverichauhan @peterholland04 @acesofspadess @humptyhoran

[caramel-whiskeys-writing]

Red Dead Redemption Preference: When You Make Them Blush

Red Dead Masterlist

Arthur

Arthur isn't one to fall into the whole love thing and he does find it hard to show any emotions to do with love. So when you gently come up to him and kiss his cheek he finds it very sweet of you, but the fact that you did it in front of some of the gang makes him lightly blush.

Obviously, the others noticed this as you were giggling and leaning on his shoulder smiling at him. He looked down and when Bill said he had a blush on, it only got brighter. Yes, the others laughed at him, but your light chuckles coming from his side made him feel less embarrassed. For the rest of that week, Arthur went out of his way to make you blush nearly every day in front of the gang, mainly when you were trying to act strong and serious.

Dutch

He's never afraid to show that he loves you and wants to be around you while at camp, so the gang was always used to him having you placed right next to him. Many times through the day you would gently kiss him and that never seemed to get him to blush or hide his face.

One day though you wanted to just hold hands with him as you sat by the campfire. As you slipped your hand into his, he looked away from you and the others at the fire. You didn't know why until you pulled his face back around to kiss him. His face was beet red and a slight smile was on his face. You knew that he was very passionate and that it was likely you'd never be able to make him blush, but I guess holding hands with him was his weak spot. Let's just say you did this a lot afterwards.

John

The day was coming to an end, John happened to land a job down in Saint Denis. He was going to be prepending as a rich man who was looking for some art and possibly some shares in a local oil or mine company, which at this point was pretty much everyone in Saint Denis. John had finally gotten into his suit that Trelawney had bought for him and he was about to head out.

Before he could get into the carriage you quickly ran out from Shady Belle and up to him. You chatted with him and Hosea for a bit before you noticed that he had a large wrinkle in his suit and that his tie wasn't straight. You gently flattened the wrinkle and adjusted his tie before you looked back up at him. You quickly noticed the huge blush on John's face and you teased him a bit about it before you gave him a kiss on the cheek and waved him goodbye.

Sean

It had been a rough few days for the whole gang as they had just moved to a new camp, but now it was finally time to have a nice late summer party. Everyone was having a great time laughing with bottles of beer or whiskey in hand. Javier playing music, Hosea telling one of his stories, plus a fight that seemed to have started between Sean and Charles. Soon enough most people were standing there watching the two drunk idiots try and land punches on each other but failing miserably. Soon enough though Sean landed a good hit to the gut and that gave a chance for Charles to hit Sean right in the face causing a cut to form on his cheek. After that Sean quickly gave up on the fight and Miss Grimshaw scolded both for being stupid.

You noticed Sean sitting where he normally sleeps trying to stop the bleeding Charles caused. You walked over to your stupid lover and sat down beside him. He tried acting tough around you, but you told him to shut up and grabbed a bandana that was laying around. You rolled it up and placed it over the over his wound. Sean blushed lightly as you normally talk a lot more with him and he also wasn't used to someone taking care of him like you do. Any time he's hurt you always help him and make sure he doesn't do anything stupid to hurt himself even more than he already was. This always gets a blush out of him and normally some gentle hugs as well.

Any Requests?

[mykneeshurt]

Mister Morgan - Chapter 4

Arthur Morgan x F!reader

All warnings are in the title page

Chapter five

Taliesin broke into a gallop as he sped away from Lone Mule Stead, the night air was calm, peaceful. You always loved the night air, the darkness soothed you, you felt like you could really breathe at night, and it had a different flavour, one you craved.

Slowing Taliesin to a walking pace you took a deep breath in, closing your eyes as you savoured the newfound freedom. “Now, I’m gonna ask you again. Are you alright? Cause that … that was somethin’ else back there.” Arthur’s voice pierced the silence. “Vengeance, Arthur. “ You said coldly.

“Vengeance is an idiot’s game. Someone always gets hurt.” You felt him shake his head.

“Colm took someone close to me Arthur, so I took the closest to him.” You said quietly. You felt him nod in a quiet understanding.

In an attempt to lighten the mood Arthur started asking you questions “Your horses name is … different. Where’s it from?”

You giggled, “I wondered when that was gonna come up. It’s welsh. I wasn’t born here; I was born in Wales, but my mother and father came over here when I was a child. Wanted a new life away from there. One long boat ride later and here I am.”

“And here you are.” You felt Arthur smiling behind you. “So, what about your parents what did they do?”

“Well, I told you about my father, Gerwyn, he was a stagecoach driver, before that he was a miner in Wales. My mother Rhiannon was a seamstress, she died when I was young. Pneumonia.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. How long were you livin’ in Valentine?” He asked.

“Mmmm, Valentine about ten years, before that we lived in Annesburg as my father got a job in the mines there before driving the stagecoach. Before that we lived up north. Annesburg was my favourite, reminded me so much of Wales. The greenery, the hills, the valleys.” You sighed.

You guided Taliesin though the weaving paths round the cliffs, he seemed content not having to be hitched to a post for days on end. Until he reared and let out a distressed whinny, Arthur grabbed your waist and held on to avoid falling off.

His strong grip sent shockwaves through your torso, you felt your heart beat faster and a red-hot heat through your body. “Steady Taliesin! Steady! Sorry Arthur” you giggled, “He saw a rabbit and he’s sooo scared of them. Aren’t yah boy?” Taliesin huffed in response and relaxed into your touch. “Chrissakes boy! Scared the shit outta me.” Arthur said, his voice shaking with fright.

You patted Arthur's thigh, another excuse to touch him, “You? Scared? A big ol tough cowboy like you.” You laughed as you turned your head and gave him a wink over your shoulder. “The toughest.” Arthur replied poking you in the ribs at the same time.

Hours passed as Arthur filled you in on his gang of outlaws and their mishaps. He told you about the recent disaster in Blackwater on the ferry where the gang lost a substantial amount of money, how they were being tailed by Pinkertons and the numerous bar fights he got into in the Valentine Saloon.

You learnt a few of their names, Dutch he was the leader, a father figure to Arthur, Hosea, another father figure who helped raise him, Charles, been with the gang 6 months, Miss Grimshaw a matron type and a few more. They had just left the Valentine area and moved to Clements Point in Lemoyne as the Pinkertons found them. You knew Horseshoe Point well; it was on top of a cliff overlooking the valley below. Truly beautiful.

As the early morning hours approached you saw Valentine in the distance you turned to Arthur with a smile “First things first cowboy, you need a bath, because quite frankly … you smell. It’s on me.” Arthur laughed in agreement “Sure, I guess I am a bit ripe.” You tapped your heels against Taliesin’s haunches, and he picked up the pace.

As you entered Valentine it was just as you remembered. Muddy. You hitched Taliesin to the post outside the hotel and walked in to greet the clerk. “One bath and one bedroom please.” Arthur looked at you confused. “Arthur. I’ve spent four years sleeping on shitty cot, I want to stay in a bed for one night. Besides, I need a drink and last time I checked you have no horse, so you’re stuck with me. We’ll go in the morning.”

Arthur tipped his head and smiled “Yes ma’am.” You both walked to the bedroom, it was opposite the bathroom at the end of the hotel corridor. It was small, but it had an open fire and a bed, all you needed for one night. You hadn’t slept in a bed for a long time, this felt like luxury.

“Arthur why don’t you get yourself cleaned up? I’ll be back in a second.” He nodded and went to bathe. You walked across to the general store and bought some food for your horse as well as some sugar cubes, his favourite. Whilst you were there you noticed some male clothes on the rail, Arthur had none and he was hardly inconspicuous in his bright red union suit. You smiled to yourself as you picked out some trousers, a shirt, and some boots. All black, your favourite. This would do until you got him back to camp. Using money, you stole from the O’Driscolls you paid for the goods and walked back to the hotel.

When you walked into the bedroom you initially didn’t notice Arthur sat in the corner … in just a towel. The sight of him sat there as the morning sun shone through the window, highlighting every detail, the scars on his chest danced in the sunlight as well as the shadows of his muscles on his body.

You let out an audible gasp “Oh god, sorry! I thought you were still in the bath! Here I bought you some clothes, it ain’t much but at least you won’t be in … in a towel.” Your eyes descended down his body as you drank him in unable to breathe. “Well thank you darlin’” he purred, “I don’t bathe for long, the waters still hot, left it in for you.” You took a minute to compose yourself before thanking him and going to have a bath of your own.

You undressed yourself and took down your hair, it rolled down to your waist. The bath was so warm and inviting, you led there letting the bubbles swarm over you. You thought about the past 24 hours and how so much had happened, you knew Colm would come looking for you. Not that you cared. Let him. It would be a while until he caught your scent anyway.

Consumed in thought you didn’t hear Arthur knock the door, he opened the door and you instantly scrunched yourself into a ball. “Oh! God! Sorry! You didn’t answer so I wanted to make sure you were ok! You forgot your towel.” You wanted the ground to swallow you whole. Blushing you thanked Arthur and sank into the water. He just saw … well you don’t know what he saw, probably everything. Washing your hair and body you ran your fingers lightly over the scar Colm had given you. You winced at the memory of that night, a night you tried so hard to bury in your deepest memory.

You got out of the bath and dried yourself, squeezing the excess water from your hair and putting it back into a low bun. A white ¾ sleeve length shirt and long black skirt was your outfit of choice, not that you had much. The belt which had Arthur's teeth marks in adorned your wait accentuating your hourglass figure. You caressed the marks in your belt and smiled to yourself.

Walking back into the room, you saw Arthur wearing the clothes you bought him. He stared out of the window and seemed oblivious to your entrance. He leant into the windowsill arms crossed, “nice to see you with some clothes on Mr Morgan” you quipped. He turned around and smiled at you “I could say the same about you” he snickered. You felt your cheeks burn. “I need a drink” you whispered in embarrassment.

The saloon was already filled with patrons trying to get the bartenders attention. Arthur led you to a seat in a quiet corner of the saloon, his black outfit contrasted perfectly with the blueness of his eyes. You didn’t have an appetite, so you ordered a beer while Arthur ordered a Whiskey. “So, you know all about me. What about your parents Arthur?” His thumb caressed the edge of the glass deep in thought, you watched his thumb unable to take your eyes away as you wished it was your lips. “My mother died when I was young, her name was Beatrice. I lived with my father, Lyle, he kind of got me into this life. He was an outlaw too, the law got him in the end when I was 11. That’s when Dutch and Hosea found me.”

“I’m so sorry Arthur that must have been hard.” You said stroking his hand. He shrugged. Changing the topic Arthur raised his glass “Anyway, welcome to the gang. Seein’ as you got no other place to go. Dutch’ll love you.” You raised your bottle back at him with a smirk and drank to that.

As you drank into the evening you focused on Arthur’s face in the early evening light. You noticed him looking at your lips when you were speaking, he sat back in his chair hips splayed towards you as he drank. “I’m going to the little ladies' room” you slurred, “another whiskey Mister Morgan?” He nodded and laughed as you stumbled off to the toilet.

You splashed water on your face in an attempt to calm yourself, you felt the electricity between you building, and it was unbearable. Desperately trying to gather your composure you left the bathroom, as you exited the door you bumped into a man and sent his drink flying. “You stupid bitch! Watch where you’re fuckin’ goin’” he shouted. You rolled your eyes at him, within an instant he had you pinned against the wall “you better watch yourself” he threatened.

Arthur approached from the corner of your eye due to the commotion. You glared directly at the man, smirking. “’Fuck you think is funny?” He demanded.

“THIS!” you yelled, and you drove your foot directly into his crotch. The man dropped to the floor, Arthur grabbed your hand and you both stumbled out of the back of the saloon in fits of giggles.

Arthur watched you as you caught your breath, you stood up and closed the gap in between your bodies. Your heart pounded in chest. You straightened out his shirt, he was so firm and warm, you left your hand on his chest, his heart beat furiously to your touch. You stared at each other intently, as the gap closed even more, the tension was agonising. You glanced at his lips, as you parted your own with a small grin. This was it.

“OVER THERE!” The man yelled.

Shit.

———

I love Arthur

[softrozene]

Miss Me

peppercet asked: Josiah Trelawny getting his face cleaned up by reader when he comes to the camp after that one mission where he gets kidnapped by bounty hunters? Subtle fluff?? They’re not in a relationship, but it’s just a really tender moment 🥺🥺🥺 I’m in love with Josiah rn I cant get enough of him!! Thank you :} 💕💕💕 

rdr2 masterlist

I am in a soft mood right now so I do hope I made it the right amount of fluff! I hope you like it Hon!

Originally published on September 17, 2020

Josiah Trelawny x Reader (Gender Neutral/Nonbinary)

Warnings: fluff, hints of past violence from that mission

Words: ~900

-

You felt a little bit worried. Only a little. Or that is what you kept telling yourself. It must have been obvious because Miss Grimshaw finally came over with that stern look on her face that she usually gives one of her girls.

“Standing around diddle-daddling is not going to make those fools come back faster. I know you are worried about them but do not neglect your chores,” She says.

You nod your head and Miss Grimshaw gives you a reassuring smile before walking off. You huff at the worrying thoughts that come back as you settle on helping Mr. Pearson out (and making sure Sadie does not murder him). Your mind stays focused on the man you are worrying about. Arthur and Charles should have been back with him now and every moment longer the more your nerves feel like they are on fire.

The said man is Josiah Trelawny- A rather mischievous yet elegant man (in your opinion). He has been nothing but kind to you so of course, you are worrying for him like crazy. Your relationship is a bit of an odd one as you are close but not that close to the man who always leaves. You enjoy each other’s company and you always loved to hear about his own adventures away from the gang.

He probably enjoyed the pure kindness radiating off of you as you soaked up his every word and not once gave him shit for leaving as the others do. Or that is what you at least like to imagine he thinks. You have not spoken about how he feels towards you but since he always makes sure to visit with a souvenir you assumed he at least has a good opinion about you.

As you chop up some vegetables and ignore Mr. Pearson and Sadie slowly getting louder, you take notice of Abigail standing up rather fast beside the fire camp and you realize why. Charles has brought back a badly beaten up Josiah. Your heart feels like it stops upon seeing blood and you nearly cut off your finger as you hastily put the knife down.

You feel for your gun as you rush over to them. Charles leans the battered man by a tree near the horses per his request. He smiles upon seeing your worried expression and lazily lifts his hand.

“It does not feel as bad as it looks. I promise,” Josiah says with a chuckle, but he ends up coughing and the pained emotion crosses his face.

What a terrible liar despite being one of the best. You and Charles quickly gather supplies to clean him up as he explains what has happened that led up to this. Your eyes widen and your blood feels like it boils at the thought of stupid bounty hunters roughing up the gentle man.

“Thank you, Charles. Next time you see Arthur tell him I am grateful that you both saved Josiah’s life,” You say sincerely prompting the man to nod his head and pat your back as you take the supplies from him.

You hurry back to Josiah who sounds like he is wheezing, and you huff at him. You quickly dunk the rag you got into the small bucket of water and begin to gently wipe away at the blood and dirt on his face. He says nothing as he examines your worried face and your eyes fall upon seeing the bruises that were hiding underneath the dirt.

“Nothing but only time can heal I’m afraid. I said before it is not too bad,” Josiah states trying to cheer you up.

It does not work as you reach for a new rag and douse it a bit with alcohol. He flinches when the stinging arises from you touching him with it before he actually laughs. It leaves you dumbfounded.

“Nothing is funny about this. I was genuinely worried about you!” You mumble as you keep a gentle touch while wiping at the open wounds.

You will not be able to wrap them so you deem them done, all he needs to do is make sure they stay clean. You stay sitting beside Josiah and he nods his head acknowledging your words.

“I meant no offense when I laughed. I just realized you really are the only person who would miss me if I left for good… I- Thank you (Name), for always welcoming me back with open arms and genuine kindness. You have no idea what it means for a foolish man like me,” He mumbles as he reaches for your hand.

Sleep is calling for him and you smile as you squeeze his hand. You whisper, “Of course, Josiah. I would miss you like crazy. Where else would I get my favorite magician stories?”

He laughs at that and lets his eyes close. “Yes. I best get some rest so I can bring you some more glorious tales fit for royalty to hear,” Josiah mumbles.

He feels safe with someone as kind and loving as you. Out of everyone here you are the one who would hold no doubts about him. Unlike Arthur and Charles who were out to find him in case he would sell out the gang but he would never even think of it- The lot of you he finds entertaining but you and your genuine nature hold a special place in his heart.

[darkherolovercroissant]

Retrouvaille

(n.) the joy of meeting or finding someone again after a long separation; rediscovery.

Arthur Morgan x Fem Reader

Warnings: me. I should be the only warning. Jk, a little bit of angst, but a fluffy ending.

Library

The snowy mountains were hell, somehow the gang had managed to find a way out though. Now they were in a new camp called horseshoe overlook, which Hosea of course knew about.

After the gang was dismissed, Arthur rode out to find food for the gang’s stew and was taking in a brief moment of silence. Away from the bickering from Dutch and the aggravation from Ms. Grimshaw and out of the way for when John makes Abigail mad so she resorts to violence.

———

He left for food an hour ago, but In reality, he’s just sitting by a rock letting the sun warm his face. His horse laying down beside him and has drifted off, his attention now on the carriage that stopped on the road. He watched as the door opens and a woman jumps out. Her dress, which was too fancy for this environment dragging in the wet mud as she begins to climb up the small hill.

It’s only when she starts to get closer, that her features become more clear to Arthur. He gets up to greet the woman as she advanced quickly.

“And here I thought I’d never see you again. My the lord has been kind to me this morning.” She smiled

“I’m sorry. I don’t believe I’ve seen you before.” Arthur softly smiled

“Do you really not remember m-, well the last time we seen each other, we were only kids so it makes sense you don’t recognize me.” She blushes

“I’m sorry?”

“Arthur it’s me. Y/n, did Dutch run your head into the ground that you don’t even remember me?”

That’s when it comes rushing back to Arthur. The young girl Arthur was once best of friends with, back when no one wanted to be due to his father. The young girl he had the biggest crush on when he was a boy, which earned him light teasing from his mother.

“Well I’ll be damned. You only got more beautiful with time, unlike me it seems.” He laughed

Lightly swatting his arm, you scoff and continued to smile at him.

“Please, I may not agree with your lifestyle, but hard work looks well on you, Morgan. Builds character.”

He blushed and tipped his head down, his hat covering his red cheeks. His heart had been beating quickly for a bit now. It’s kind of funny how life throws people into your life at random times, but to catch up with someone makes all the separation worth it.

“Miss! We need to go!”

The pair turn to see a poor boy waiting by the carriage.

Arthur takes your hand and walks you back to the carriage, while trying not to blush as you smile down to him once you step in the carriage.

“If you’re ever in Saint Denis, please come and find me. You can normally find me in the theatre or even in the town square. It’s near the outskirts, but it’s nice to be away from that husband of mine.” You smile

Arthur laughs and waves as the carriage rides off. He had never had the best luck with love it seems. With him loving you as a child and not knowing what to do about it, from loving Mary and unfortunately loosing her, to loving a younger woman named Eliza and having a son, but loosing both. This man was destined to be heartbroken it seems, but in a weird way he accepted it and just kept moving forward.

————

This city was horrible to say the least. The people half as bitter as the air due to the pollution. He just wanted to find a way to Bronte, but no luck was coming his way until a group of kids promised to take him for a small fee.

He was being distracted while the other snuck up behind and sliced his satchel from him. Only stopping in his tracks when a hand came across his cheek.

The kid looks up to see you standing with a very angry expression.

“Is this what you’ve been doing? Stealing from others? Shame on you. Now hand him his things back and move towards the docks. I heard they had work to do.”

“Yes, Ms. Y/n. We’re just going now” he apologizes as the two kids run off.

“You got some pull in the city if the kids are afraid of you.” Arthur chuckles

“Married to one of the higher figures comes in handy you see. People know not to cross you and if they do, it’s only a short time before they’re paid a visit.” You huff

“I don’t suppose you can help me, I’m looking for said higher figures. I hope you of all people will be generous to give me a decent tour.” He sighs

You smile before lightly pulling him along down the sidewalk.

“Who are we looking for, I’ll do my best to help you.”

“A man named Angelo Bronte. Where does he live?”

You huff in annoyance as you drag him further down the sidewalks before stopping across from a big manor.

“This is where he lives. Tell me, what has that fool gotten himself into this time.”

“He has a kid that belongs to our group. His name is J-”

“Jack Marston.” You cut him off

“You know him?”

“I’m unfortunately married to the man who took him. Tell whoever came with you, to meet me here. I wish to have a chat with my husband as well.” You were fuming

———

“Well I’ll admit, finding a needle in a haystack is a hell of a lot easier than I expected. Dutch Van Der Linde, at your service m’lady” the older one introduced.

“Pleasure to meet you sir. And John, I’m sorry that this has happened, but don’t worry, the young boy was never harmed. I make sure he’s been taken care of quite well. He often joins me on walks outside in the city.” You smile

John felt a bit better knowing such a kind person was looking after his child.

“Now, follow me. You’ll have better luck getting in with me there.” You take a deep breath before walking across the street.

“Mrs. Bronte, welcome back. Who are they?”

“Future business opportunities for my husband. Please they mean no harm.” You assured

You all head up the steps into the manor and walk into one of the living areas where a man is sitting on the couch.

———

“You do something for me and you’ll get the boy.” He smiled

“No, You will give him the boy now. Business is business, but children are off limits. Jack isn’t some bargaining chip, so he will be handed over immediately.”

“Who are you to tell me what to do with my business?” Angelo looks over at you in disgust.

“Someone who’s had enough of your crap. He’s just a boy, so give him back.” You deadpan

“Fine. If it’ll get you to shut up, but I won’t forget this little stunt of yours.”

As the men walk outside with the boy, you grab Arthur’s arm and pull him back lightly.

“Please. You have to do something about him. I know we were just kids, but I will do anything to get away from him. Arthur, I beg of you to save me from this life.” Your eyes were glossy.

Arthur takes your hands in his and gives them a light squeeze.

“I promise to do the right thing, just give me some time to make a plan. Then you’ll be free, I promise. I just need some time.” He smiled

You nod as you step back from him and watch him leave once again. Just hope it doesn’t take as long as it did the first time to see him again.

————

You cower in the one room as gunshots and yelling were all you heard. From what you heard from those who started shouting, Bronte was a dead man. And typical fashion of your husband, he hid and feared for his life, but neglected to even tell you about the men that seek his head.

So here you are, hiding in a closet downstairs while bullets penetrated the walls and air. Wishing they find that snake of a husband and kill him quick. As the yelling is muffled and and the footsteps disappear, you hesitate to emerge from the room. However you needed fresh air, so you make a break for it. Only to turn the corner to meet the end of Arthur’s pistol.

“Please, I don’t know anything. Please let me go.” You beg

Arthur froze and only came to his senses after you spoke. Putting his pistol away, he grabbed your arm and pulled you behind him as whistles and shouting could be heard.

“Your window to freedom is open, let’s go.” He shouts over the loudness outside.

“About time. The fancy life isn’t for me.” You laugh to kill your nerves

“Can you shoot?” He asks as you duck down

“Yes, but I have never been able to hit anything.” You frown

“Then stay down and let me handle it, darling.”

————

“So, is this the life you wanted?” Arthur teases as he sits beside you on the front step.

From where you both sat, you could see the horses grazing in the fields with the cows and the little kids running around in the grass by the garden.

“This is exactly the life I wanted. No corsets and no annoying rich men. No god awful parties full of weak alcohol and fake friends. Just peace and quiet and the family we created.” You smile

“I’m glad. Only a few years in the making, but the end result is always worth it.” Arthur smiled

“Hard work looks great on us, Arthur.”

“That it does, Darling.”

[5sosfanfictioncatalogue]

(TW) Eating Disorder Masterlist

Bleeding heart (ao3) - exhiled_spirit luke/ashton M, 35k

Summary: Luke's past relationship haunts his ever waking moment and everything comes crashing down during the highly anticipated Meet You There Tour.

boys only want love if it's torture (ao3) - orphan_account luke/ashton, calum/ashton, michael/luke G, 805

Summary: don't say i didn't, say i didn't warn you.

Ashton had always thought Luke was beautiful. Pale, delicate, fragile - everything Ashton had been warned against.

Club of Misfits (ao3) - felixandtae luke/ashton, michael/calum T, 274k

Summary: ❝Everyone has flaws. You me, Michael and Ashton - we’re all just a club of misfits.❞

A club for those who need a friend created by two best friends.

Copper and Alcohol (ao3) - Zoe13 michael/luke, calum/ashton T, 3k

Summary: Michael messes up a guitar solo and feedback from fans makes him believe that the boys are going to kick him out of the band.

Eating Me Alive (ao3) - SinisterMind michael/luke

Summary: Michael watches Luke destroy himself

Face So Sunny (ao3) - Badass_iero michael/ashton, luke/calum M, 33k

Summary: Luke gets sad and doesn't eat sometimes, But he's brave and is a cuddly punk rock boyfriend. Michael is abused and is scared of everything but he is strong and is definitely a badass. Ashton cuts, cries and gets away from his problems but he makes adult decisions and is the cutest anyone has ever seen, and Calum holds them all together, sure, he breaks sometimes too but he's very smug and he's got a wicked adoration for puppies and can teach young ones a thing or two. All the 1D guys are in here, a mention of Nick Grimshaw and Lou and Tom and Luxy.

Okay just to be clear here I do not like 5 second of summer and I do not listen to their music, I wrote all the 5sos fanfic on this page for my girlfriend (who is now my ex) loved them and so I wrote these fr her and we broke up but these fic's are awesome so I'm not taking them down cause I worked hard on them. And I don't like 1D either I was just fucking committed to my girlfriend as hell.

I'll Wrap My Arms Around You Now (ao3) - nic_96 luke/ashton, michael/calum T, 13k

Summary: The one where Michael is very insecure about his body and stops letting Calum cuddle him but Calum like to cuddle, cuddling is very important to their relationship and Calum is cuddle deprived and frustrated and Luke knows too much and Ashton is adorable.

It's a hell of a feeling though (ao3) - thenewbrokenscene michael/luke M, 58k

Summary: [AU, actor/model Luke and musician Michael]

After a recent scandal and the subsequent publicity nightmare, Luke Hemmings doesn't need any more trouble. He's just trying to enjoy his best friend's birthday party. But who the fuck invited Michael Clifford?

Love Notes (ao3) - Zoe13 michael/luke, calum/ashton T, 7k

Summary: After a failed attempt at suicide Michael wants to get better. He really does. Why does it have to be so hard?

Or: the aftermath of Suicide [Love] Notes in which Michael is trying to get better for Luke.

Maelstrom (ao3) - merlypops luke/ashton, michael/calum E, 225k

Summary: Ashton is struggling, Luke is hiding, and Michael and Calum just want to make things work. (And maybe Ashton and Luke fall in love too. Maybe.)

"Not our fault Lukes fat." (ao3) - belle_bird66 OT4 N/R, 25k

Summary: "Not our fault lukes fat!" Ashton yells with a giggle, Michael and Calum laugh at the drummers choice of a joke, all of them glancing back to the laptop. What everyone misses though is the way Luke frowns slightly, and presses a hand over his tummy, he rubs an arm up and down his side for the rest of the twitcam, 'lukes fat..lukes fat...lukes fat' He chants over and over in his head. 'I'll be perfect, i won't stop until i am perfect.'

Resilience (ao3) - Abbypd calum/ashton T, 58k

Summary: Calum ends up in a mental institution after trying to kill himself, Ashton is scared of commitment, Michael needs to be perfect for Luke and Luke's already too far gone for Michael anyways.

Silence (ao3) - I_ReadTooMany_Fanfics OT4 M, 30k

Summary: He was silent. He didn't like talking.

Being abused could do that to a person. And having a lisp and a stutter didn't help. He hadn't said a word in so long, but no one cared. Everything was better in a world where he didn't talk.

He probably could've lived like this until the day he finally decided to kill himself. Until he meets three people who decide to change that...

Tempest (ao3) - merlypops michael/calum, luke/ashton E, 314k

Summary: Calum's best friends are falling apart, Mali is gone, and Calum just wants to be perfect.

The Gradual Decline (ao3) - yxungandreckless luke/ashton N/R, 8k

Summary: Ashton's been losing weight, and it's not a secret.

there's this ringing in my head (who said it was gonna be easy?) (ao3) - orphan_account luke/ashton T, 2k

Summary: ashton should've known he wasn't worth it.

throw on a jersey, no one gets hurt (ao3) - orphan_account luke/ashton T, 15k

Summary: Ashton knew he wasn't normal okay, he fucking knew it, he didn't need his father reminding him of that every goddamn day. He knew it wasn't normal to like wearing girl's clothes and makeup and just feeling pretty, but it was like an itch under his skin - he needed it, just like he needed the sharp blade in his drawer.

Maybe that was why he was close to just ending it all.

Wabi-Sabi (ao3) - merlypops michael/ashton T, 2k

Summary: 'Ashton remembers how his smile softened then and he pressed a gentle kiss to his boyfriend’s forehead, and Ashton remembers how the tiny, sad sigh that escaped Michael hurt him more than the hate online ever could.'

Michael can't see how wonderful he is and Ashton does his best to change his boyfriend's mind.

[layce2015]

Red Dead Redemption 2 (Arthur Morgan x Female!Reader)

Visiting Hours

Previous Chapter/ RDR2 Masterlist/ Next Chapter

(A/n: I don't know if I made this clear or not but just to let everyone know, in this story, Arthur doesn't have tuberculosis. It was the original idea to follow the game but then I thought this would be better even though I did like how Arthur goes out. And heck, I changed and gave Joel Miller a better ending why not Arthur?)

"You're a nasty woman, Miss Grimshaw, a nasty woman." Karen's voice shout, which woke Arthur up. He sits up in his cot and sees that (y/n) wasn't sleeping next to him and she saw Jack and Annebeth trying to play but you could tell their heart wasn't really in it. Clearly what happened to Molly yesterday really affected them.

"You think I wanted to shoot her?" Grimshaw asked Karen as Arthur gets dressed. "You seemed to like it, I saw that beady look in your eye." Karen accused. "You're drunk again." Grimshaw deflected. "And you're a fucking murderer!" Karen shouts.

"She broke the rules." Grimshaw said, just as loudly as Karen. "She did no such thing, she was in love, you sour-faced old crone! Damn you, Murderer, Murderer!" Karen screams and she walks away while Grimshaw glares after her.

Arthur sighs and shakes his head at this as he starts to look for (y/n), maybe now he could ask her what Sadie meant before he had to go meet up with her to save John. He walks around until he sees her sitting up against a tree some feet away from the camp.

He walks over to her and saw her looking down as she had her legs pulled up to her and her arms resting on her knees. She looked like she was in deep thought and Arthur hated to have to interrupt her but he was worried about her.

"Hey (y/n)." He greets. She raises her head at him and gives him a small smile. "Hey, Arthur." She said, in a small tired voice. "You okay?" He asked as he sits down next to her. She sighs then scoffs a laugh as she shakes her head. "Just...hell of a couple days, huh?" She said. "Yeah..." Arthur sighs and he noticed that she had some sort've brooch in her hand that she was fiddling with.

"Where'd you get that?" He asked, nodding towards the brooch. She looks at it, sighs then tells Arthur what happened with Oliver and his dad and how he gave her the brooch to pass down to Annebeth. "So now he wants to make up for it..." Arthur grumbles and (y/n) nods.

"Part of me wants to sell it but...I can't help but feel that I should give it to Annebeth when she gets older. It's a family heirloom and, whether I like it or not, she shares the same blood as him and therefore it should be passed down to her." (Y/n) said. "Guess that makes sense." Arthur said and (y/n) looks over at him. 

"Thought I'd get more fight outta you.." she said, surprised. "If it's for Annebeth then...I don't have a problem with it." He replied and her smile returns. 

"Is there anything else you need to tell me?" Arthur asked her and (y/n)'s smile falters. "Sadie was telling me her plans to save John and she mentioned she did want you to come along but said But not in her condition. What did she mean by that?" Arthur asked her. "And Annebeth said you went to see a doctor. Is everything okay?" 

(Y/n) sighs and said. "Depends on how you respond to the news." Arthur raises an eyebrow at this as (y/n) continues. "The last few weeks, I don't know if you noticed, I've been feeling sick. So sick that I tend to vomit and some food tasted weird to me..." she said and Arthur nods a bit. "I remember you saying the champagne tasted odd back at that party." He said.

"Well...I went to the doctor to see what he said, even though I kinda figured out what it might be." She said and she looks into his ocean blue eyes. "What is it?" He asked as he stares back into her (e/c) eyes. She takes a deep breath then slowly let's it out. "Arthur...I'm pregnant." She said and Arthur's eyes widen at this.

"What?" He asked her, shocked. "Now the doctor said it's a strong possibility but I have to wait a few months. But...Arthur, looking back, the symptoms I'm experiencing are the same ones I had when I was pregnant with Annebeth." She explained and Arthur looks her over as if he was making sure she wasn't lying.

"You sure?" He asked and (y/n) looks him in the eyes, without blinking. "I would never, ever lie about this, Arthur. I care and love you too much to do that to you. I promise you that I'm pregnant, and you are the father." She said. Arthur stares at her for a moment then a small smirk appears on his face.

"Well I sure as shit better be." He said and she smiles. “I’m hurt that you would doubt me, Mr. Morgan.” (Y/n) said, feigning hurt with a playful smirk, placing her hand on her chest where her heart is. He laughs at her joke at first then remarks. “You’d be surprised, darlin'.”

The chuckles slowly died down, and Arthur’s smile faded to a deep frown as he looked down at his feet. (Y/n) sensed there is something going on in his head as he looked as though in deep thought.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” She asked.

“What if…what if I ain’t cut out to be a father? Am I worthy to be a good father to our child?” He asked, his voice laced with insecurity. "Arthur…” she said, worried, but Arthur goes on.

“I’m afraid that something could happen to you or Annabeth one day if I wasn’t there. A lot has happened in my life before. What kind of father am I if—?” he started to ramble and (y/n) holds her hand up to him. “Stop.” She said. “Stop beating yourself up like that. You are a good man, and a good father. Annebeth loves you already, and so will the baby once it’s born. You proved so much by the way you helped me and the others at camp. I know you care a lot for us, especially after when the children were taken, and you were hellbent on bringing them back home. Did so much for us yet you feel like you are unworthy. You are anything but that, Arthur Morgan. Deep down, you are a good man. You just need to see that.” she said and Arthur looks at her then moves his eyes away.

“I know a lot has happened, but just know that we’re here for you. You deserve to be happy. Everyone you held close to and lost would want you to have a happy ending you deserve, for them. For us.” She grabs his hand and place them on her stomach where their child is residing. To let him know that he is loved and that the baby would be happy to meet him soon in a few months. Arthur gazes, lovingly, at the small bump he could feel then at (Y/n), eyes brimming with happy tears. “Thank you.” He says and she smiles at him then leans up and kisses him

They share a loving kiss before they pull back and stare into each other's eyes. “Now…how should we tell Annebeth she’s going to be a big sister?” he asked her but before (y/n) could answer, Strauss comes and up and calls out to Arthur, who moves his hand off of (y/n)'s belly.

"Mr. Morgan!" Strauss calls out as he comes up to them. "Herr Strauss." Arthur said. "How are you?" Strauss asked him. "Doing good, all things considering." Arthur said. "Okay. Are you perhaps available for some work?" Strauss asked him and Arthur sighs.

"Debtors?" Arthur asked and (y/n) looks between him and Strauss. "Yes." Strauss said. "I guess." Arthur sighs, sounding like he would rather do anything else than this. "Your commitment to your duties is admirable." Strauss said, smiling.

"Who are they?" Arthur asked. "Well, there's a deserter from Fort Wallace. Head to him first. They're looking for him out on the road near Three Sisters. Man's name is J. John Weathers." Strauss explains. "J. John Weathers..." Arthur mutters. "Then, there's a miner over in Annesburg. He's called...well he's called Arthur...like you." Strauss chuckles and (y/n) could see Arthur rolling his eyes.

"Arthur Londonderry. Family man, desperate. You know the type." Strauss said and Arthur sighs again. "Couldn't one of the boys do this?" Arthur asked him. "I tried. They lacked your vigor." Strauss said. "Vigor, huh?" Arthur scoffs then he sighs again. "All right." He said and Strauss smiles, brightly. "Take care, Mr. Morgan." Strauss said and he leaves.

Arthur runs his hands over his eyes. "I don't want to do this." He grumbles then he looks over at (y/n). "Especially leaving you after telling me the news." He said and (y/n) gives him a sympathetic look. "I know, Arthur. I don't like it either. But you have a job to do. Plus you have to help Sadie save John. Once you finish all that, then we can have some time together." She assures him and Arthur looks at her and gives a soft smile.

"Just stay safe, okay?" She asked him and Arthur nods then he leans in and kisses her. "I'll see you later." He said as he gets up. "Be careful, honey." (Y/n) said. "I love you." Arthur said. "I love you too." She said and Arthur goes to his horse and takes off.

For the next couple of hours, (y/n) kept her mind busy as she helped around the camp. But it made her sad as it seemed everyone, who once acted as a family, were now cold towards one another. And it seemed everyone was trying to not walk on eggshells.

(Y/n) was washing some clothes when she heard a hoofprints pounding on the ground. She looks up and sees Arthur coming in. She started to smile but it quickly disappears when she noticed this look of stern determination on his face as he makes his way to Strauss.

"Ah, how did you get on Mr. Morgan?" Strauss asked after Arthur made his way to Strauss, who was sitting on a large boulder. "Just dandy." Arthur replied, flatly, then he stares at Strauss for a few moments then said. "Just...get up." He said and Strauss looks up at him, startled. "What?" He asked. "Get up." Arthur ordered as he grabs Strauss's arm and pulls him up to his feet.

This startled (y/n) and she and a few other members stop and stare as Arthur takes Strauss to his tent. "What is wrong?" Strauss asked, shocked. "Nothing's wrong. Nothing at all." Arthur said as he continues to drag Strauss.

"What are you doing?" Strauss asked as they get closer to his tent. "Something I should have done a long time ago. Get your bag. Is this it?" Arthur said as he grabs Strauss's bag. "I don't understand." Strauss said as Arthur grabs some of Strauss's personal items and put them in the bag. "I ain't going to kill you, though I probably should. You disgust me and you shame us, if we could be shamed any more than we already are." Arthur said and he finished packing up Strauss's stuff. "That should do. Go!" Arthur said as he shoves Strauss's bag in his hands.

"I don't understand you. What are you doing?" Strauss asked as Arthur grabs him again and drags him towards the entrance of the camp. "Go and get a job!" Arthur shouts, angrily, as he shoves Strauss forward. 

Strauss stumbles then turns back around towards Arthur, clearly shocked at what was going on. "But...I was your friend." he said to Arthur. "You and me, we ain't decent, but those folk, they was. Now, here take that." Arthur said as he pulls out some cash out of his satchel and throws it at Strauss. 

"Take that and get lost." Arthur said and Strauss looks between the money and Arthur. "I'm-" he stammers but Arthur speaks over him. "Leaving." Arthur said, in a firm quiet voice. Strauss stares at Arthur and tried to to talk but realized that he would just piss Arthur off.

He collects his stuff and the money and leaves while Arthur watches him. (Y/n) runs up to him and places a hand on his arm. "Arthur, what was that about?" She asked as Arthur turns to her. "I don't want to talk about it. I gotta go." He mutters as he goes over to his horse but (y/n) walks up next to him then grabs his arm. 

"Arthur, honey, talk to me." She pleads and Arthur stops and sighs. "I just got tired of his jobs and him preying on desperate folk. J. John Weathers...he has a pregnant wife. And Londonderry, he died and...he left behind a wife and a young kid. A kid about Jack's and Annebeth's age." Arthur said and (y/n) frowns. "Oh, Arthur..." she said, sympathetically, and Arthur shakes his head.

"I just...I couldn't take it anymore..." he said, defeated. (Y/n) gives him a sympathetic look then takes his hand in her, intertwines her fingers with his, and gives it a reassure squeeze. He turns his head to her and she gives him a small smile then she leans up and kissed his cheek. 

The two share a look, a comfortable silence between them, before Arthur let's out a sigh. "I better get going..." he said as he goes to his horse. "Be careful." (Y/n) said and Arthur looks over his shoulder at her, a small smile on his lips. "Always." He said and he mounts his horse and takes off.

Sometime later, Sadie and Arthur make it to Sisika and got into the grounds. They thought John was out on the ground with the chain gang, but after shooting a guard they realized that John was not out on the grounds like they thought.

They run up towards the guards they didn't shoot, the prisoners were long gone at this point, and Sadie started to threaten one, asking where John was, but another guard comes up to her and aims his gun at her, threatening her. But Arthur comes up behind him and places his gun behind the guard's head, scaring him to death.

Arthur takes him captive and he and Sadie make their way to the entrance of the prison, still holding the guard at gunpoint. "Jameson!" Arthur yells as they get to the front entrance and a few guards had run along the top level of the prison.

"Is Jameson in?" Arthur asked the guards. "He's in Saint Denis." One of the guards said. "They got Milliken." Another guard exclaims. "Got him and going to kill him. Unless you bring me John Marston right now. You got one minute. I'm counting. One, two, three..." Arthur said but then he leans forward to Millikan.

"Millikan, is it?" He asked. "Yes, sir." Millikan said, shaking. "Will you count for me? I got talking to do." Arthur said to him. "Yes, sir. Of course, sir." Millikan said and he was about to count but then turns his head to look at Arthur. "From one or four, sir?" He asked him. "Very funny. No, we must be at 11 by now." Arthur said and Millikan begins to count.

"11, 12, 13."

"Faster." Arthur orders and Millikan starts to panic and cries. "14, 15, 16, 17. 18." he counts while Arthur talks over him. "Now hurry up. Or this poor fool's going to get his brain shot out and over what? For nothing." Arthur said but noticed that Millikan stopped counting.

"Milliken. Don't stop counting. I can't hear you." He said as a few guards walked away. "Hurry up and bring that asshole out here you bastard. Come on." Millikan cried out to the guards. "Don't cry, buddy." Arthur said. "I don't want to die." Millikan cries and Arthur pats his shoulder. "I know. I know." Arthur said and at that moment the front gates open and out comes John. 

"Hey, Hey, John." Arthur said as Sadie goes over to him. "Hey, you two." John greets and Sadie shoots the chain that was linked between John's legs. "Now no funny business or Mr. Milliken here will stop crying once and for all." Arthur threatened as John and Sadie run off. Then Arthur turns to Millikan. "Okay, today's your lucky day. Let's go." Arthur said as he shoves Millikan forward and he starts to run while the guards start to fire at the trio.

"Been a while, John." Arthur said as they hid behind some boxes and started firing at the guards. Sade handed John an extra gun she had. "You're telling me! What took you so long?" John asked. "I'll explain later." Arthur said as they shoot and kill some guards.

"Was that you in the balloon?" John asked Arthur as they start to run again. "Believe me, that was my one and only time flying." Arthur jokes and they dodge and run from the guards and their bullets.

They eventually make it to the boat and get inside of it.  "Come on boys, let's move. I'll row. You shoot." Sadie said to Arthur. "Seriously?" Arthur asked her, annoyed. "Let me, you're a better shot." she said as she grabs the oars and Arthur pulls out a rifle. "All right, fine. You just relax and enjoy yourself, John. Leave the real work to them as can still handle it." Arthur said as he takes aim. "Thanks." John said as Sadie rows and Arthur kills the guards.

Finally they make it to Copperhead Landing and they get off of the boat. "I think I liked you better when you was all trussed up like a prized chicken." Arthur told John. "No doubt." John said and Sadie whistles for the horses.

"Hurry up. They're going to on our tails soon enough if you boys keep wasting time." She tells them as Arthur looks out at the water. "That's us told then." He said. "Hey Arthur...thank you." John said to him, appreciatively, and Arthur turns to him and smirks. "Don't mention it." He said.

"Let's go. We should get out of here quick before the law gets wind of this." Sadie tells them as she gets on her horse. Arthur helps John to mount her horse then he gets on his and they take off as fast as they could.

"So what the hell happened in Saint Denis? Is Abigail all right?" John asked them. "She's fine. Jack is too. She managed to escape when they got Hosea." Sadie explained and John looks down. "Hosea. That still don't seem real somehow." He said, shaking his head. "All them years, Arthur, he was like family." John said.

"We lost young Lenny too." Arthur said. "No...what a damn mess." John said, devastated. "What about the money?" He asked. "Lost somewhere at the bottom of the ocean." Arthur explained. "What? How the hell did that happen?" John asked, confused and shocked.

"We hid on a boat, it was our only way out of there. The boat went down in a storm and we ended up stranded on an island somewhere near Cuba." Arthur said. "Cuba? Wait, you're going to have to tell me all this again." John said, his mind running a mile a minute.

"It's a long story, but things ain't been good, John." Arthur said, honestly. "You're telling me!" John said, like it was obvious. "We're holed up now in the mountains to the north near Roanoke Ridge in some caves there. The Pinkertons caught up with us again and we had to move." said Arthur. "Seems Molly ratted us out, the bitch. So she's dead too." Sadie said.

"Jesus. Maybe you should have just left me to hang." John said, sarcastically. "And I should warn you. Dutch didn't want us breaking you out. Said it wasn't the right time, so might not be the hero's welcome you're imagining." Arthur said and John scoffs.

"So much for no man left behind." he grumbles then he sighs. "I can't stop thinking about this. In the bank, when they grabbed me, he saw it, felt almost like he had a moment to do something and didn't." John explains. "Dutch ain't himself right now, or maybe he just ain't who we thought he was." said Arthur.

"Guess we don't need to worry about who's his favorite no more." said John. "Guess not." Arthur said as they make it to camp and Abigail and (y/n) look over and see that they had arrive.

"You brought him back to me." Abigail said, her voice full of tears, as she runs over to Sadie and John. "We told you we would." Sadie said as her and the boys dismount their horses. Abigail and John hug each other and (y/n) goes up to John.

"Good to see you back, John." She said as her and John give a quick hug to each other then (y/n) goes over to Arthur and they embrace. "I'm so glad you're safe too." She whispers to Arthur. 

"John! What are you doing here?" Dutch's voice called out and they all turn to him and see Dutch and Micah walking up to them. "Good to see you too partner." John said to him, in a harsh sarcastic voice. "I meant I hadn't sent for you yet." Dutch corrects.

"I went." Arthur said, pulling out of his and (y/n)'s embrace, and walks over to Dutch.

"But I said that..."

"I know what you said. I felt different." Arthur said, interrupting Dutch. "Is that so?" Dutch asked, his voice turning to anger. "Yes." Arthur said, firmly, as he stands in front of Dutch, standing his ground.

"And when springing John brings the law down on all of us, what then, Arthur?" Dutch asked him. "Well I guess we'll have another fight on our hands." Arthur growls at Dutch. "Loyalty, Arthur, it ain't..." Dutch stops then starts to shake in anger.

"I had a damn PLAN!" Dutch yells, furiously, at Arthur then he turns to John. "John, John, you are my brother. You are my son. I was coming for you." He said, trying to assure him. "They were talking of hanging me, Dutch." John said, in a sort've desperate tone. "They was talking, they was talking and now they may come and hang us all." Dutch said and he walks away in rage while Micah glares at them and, slightly, shakes his head at them and walks off.

Sadie, Abigail, John, Arthur and (y/n) all exchange looks before Sadie shakes her head and walks off, John and Abigail head to their tents. Arthur kicks at the ground and (y/n) takes his left hand in her right hand.

"Hey, no matter what...you did the right thing, Arthur." She said, calmly, and she places her left hand on his cheek, her thumb brushing across his stubble. "I know." Arthur mutters as he raises his right hand and placed it over the hand on his cheek. He turns his head and kissed the palm of her hand and she smiles at him.

Then the two head to their shared tent.

@starjane312 @trinswhimsys @reiya-djarin

[pookiecowpoke]

Hi!

I don’t usually request anything, but I’m super curious! Could you write something for Bonnie Macfarlane and Arthur Morgan? They are one of my favorite pairings from Red Dead. I also have a couple of others that are pretty rare; Bonnie/Algernon Wasp and Micah/Mary-Beth.

I’d be excited to see any of those :)

Flowers by the Shoreline

Pairing: Micah Bell/Mary-Beth Gaskill

Fandom: Red Dead Redemption II

Rating: Mature

Word count: Just over 2000

Tags: Warnings: Sexism, racism, animal abuse (this is micah we are talking about, but that doesn’t make it okay), gift-giving, acts of affection, insecurities

Comments: After a very long break I’m back to writing requests! All other peeps are on the way I promise! 

So, I’ve been playing Red Dead Redemption lately and I have to say I can’t stand Bonnie. I’m sorry, I know she’s supposed to be this head strong independent woman, and I support that but I can’t stand her voice anytime I’m doing a mission for her. Why is she screaming at me, why is she insulting John so much, please Bonnie calm down QAQ. And I like the idea of Micah and Mary-Beth ever since watching Micah get rejected by Mary-Beth in Chapter 3 (was it chapter 3? idek it was so long ago). I may have went a little overboard focusing on Micah’s insecurities and emotions, and may have turned it into a character study, but it’s okay XD. I hope you enjoy this! 

Micah Bell the third only ever had 2 things on his mind: money and women. Money was easy. He had always had a knack for landing a score, whether that was through violence or his cunning mind. Money turned him on almost as much as women did, but women were a much more difficult thing for Micah to conquer. 

They were a mystery that usually just frustrated him more than it was worth to touch their soft flesh and feel their warm bodies. Even whores stayed clear of him. It was humiliating. The women at camp only glared and gave fake smiles at best when he was around. 

But oh, when Arthur fuckin’ Morgan was around all the women flocked to him. What did Arthur have that he didn’t? He drank just as much booze as he did, sure Morgan was maybe a better shot then Micah, but they still did about the same amount of chores at the camp. Well… when Charles or that O’Driscoll cunt didn’t already have them done…

Yet, all the women, even Abigail who was techincally John’s, would go to him for every one of their needs or wants. Morgan was gone most days and they still gathered around him when he returned and asked after him every waking second of the day. It disgusted Micah that they blantantly held favortism. 

He would never approach Tilly, even if she had the most beautiful dark skin and wore that yellow dress that made her look like a little sunflower. He wouldn’t stoop that low. 

Karen had nice tits and wasn’t afraid to drink, but she was loud. God awful loud, like a bird choking on a fish. Plus, Micah was sure Sean would throw a fit if he ever tried to make a move on Karen. Sean’s annoying Irish whine was almost worse than Karen’s drunken squawking.

Abigail, oh she was pretty. He cursed the day John went and got her pregnant, officially ending her whoring days five years ago. She even had a cute snorting laugh, but only Morgan and Hosea seemed to get her to let it out. Her kid, whatever his name was, was a pest that would run around without a care in the world. Not to mention if Micah was messing around with her, he’d have Marston, Morgan and the Old man gunning for him. Blegh, no thank you. 

Miss Grimshaw was too old for Micah’s standards. She acted like there was a stick up her ass, and maybe there was. She used to be Dutch’s bitch all those years ago, making it a bit of a taboo to even attempt to approach her. Same went for Molly, as pretty as she was. Those two were off limits, as far as Micah could tell. 

Mrs. Adler was just about as wild as she was attractive, and she would probably cut his pecker off if he approached her. She was sobbing most the time anyway.

That just left Mary-Beth, the hopeless romantic. Micah genuinely liked Mary-Beth and her low cut dress. Sure, he didn’t really understand some of her rambling wants about some fantasy guy who oftentimes sounded a lot like Morgan, but her freckles and the way she smiled when talking about her book always made his heart thump a little faster. 

He had tried being nice to her before Blackwater. Greetings here and there, tips of his hat, that sort of bullshit. The damn freeze of Colter happened and everyone was in a piss-poor mood before they traveled down to New Hanover. Then he got imprisoned in Strawberry and was away from camp for nie on two weeks. 

But now that they were at Clemens point and things were quiet, Micah planned to make his move. He had been in the Rhodes General store buying cigarettes when he saw a leather bound jounral on the shelf. He wasn’t one for journaling, it was a waste of time to write down his own thoughts, but Mary-Beth liked writing those silly little romances. 

He approached the counter with the pack of cigarettes and the journal, laying them down in a huff. His heart was jerking uncomfortably in his chest, and his back was sweating through his shirt. The clerk tried to make small talk with him, but he just shot him a glare from under the brim of hat and went on his way. 

Baylock greeted him with a snort and a stomp of his hoof. The tempermental nag even had the balls to sidestep when Micah went to mount him after putting the journal safely in his saddle bags. 

“I will cut those damn balls off, boy, test me again.” Micah hissed through his bristly moustache. 

The cobalt steed calmed and allowed Micah to swing himself into his saddle. On the way back to Clemens Point, Micah made it a point to stab his spurs into Baylock’s flanks as punishment for his transgressions. Baylock pinned his ears and wheezed as they galloped through the thick woodland that kept Clemens Point hidden from prying eyes. 

Williamson on guard duty could hardly ask who was there before Micah flew by and cantered to the designated horse area. The O’Driscoll looked up from the detailing of a saddle when Baylock nickered and came to a sliding halt. 

“Hey, O’Driscoll, unsaddle my horse.” Micah shouted while sliding off Baylock and searching through his saddle bag for the newly bought journal. 

“M-mister I ain-”

“I don’t think I asked, O’Driscoll. Are we gonna have a problem?” The O’Driscoll shook his head, bowing to hide under his ridiculous straw hat. “Good, now be a good boy and do what I asked.”

Micah didn’t turn around to see if he followed through with his orders, his mind more set on the beautiful Gaskill sitting at the center table. Her hair was done up with half of it up and the other cascading in curled locks down her back. Clad in a maroon skirt, white low cut shirt and dark pink waistcoat, she looked radiant with the way the bright sun caught on her necklace made her breasts pop. 

The only problem was that damn Morgan was talking to her at the table. He couldn’t just go up and give her the journal without an explanation, especially with Morgan right there. He’d be made a laughing stock. With a growl, Micah made a beeline for his tent. He would wait until that night, corner Mary-Beth to give her the journal and express himself to her. Yes, that was a good plan. 

Micah sighed softly as he sat on his bedroll and looked down at the leather, flipping through the pages. They were good quality, or he thought they were. Surely, Mary-Beth would appreciate the gift. An uneasy feeling settled in his gut, something he only felt when something went wrong. He wasn’t a nervous human, but the thought of courting Mary-Beth made his stomach twist up and heart skip a beat. Maybe this was a bad idea? No, any idea he came up with was never a bad one, just needed some improvising if it went wrong. 

In the heat of the Lemoyne sun, Micah laid out on his bed roll and tipped his hat down to hide his face, hands cupped under his head. His hair felt greasy and tangled, maybe he should go to the Flat Iron and wash up a bit before approaching Mary-Beth? His shirt also felt damp and rough against his skin. 

With a snarl of frustration, Micah sat up and trampled around his tent to grab a sliver of soap and a ragged wash cloth. A clean dark grey button up lay at the bottom of his chest, he hadn’t worn it since… he didn’t know when. Rolling his eyes, he grabbed the shirt and left his tent with a flourish. The things he did for women. 

No one spared him a glance as he walked to the lakeshore, following it until he found a partly hidden cove. He stripped down and waded into the water, scrubbing at his skin with the soap wrapped in the cloth until the blonde hairs on his chest were suddy and the faint smell of cedar filled his nostrals. He spent more time on washing his hair, dunking his head under the water and latehring it with soap. 

Scratching at his moustache made him think maybe he should shave too, but the stubborn part of his mind told him he was already doing too much to impress Mary-Beth. He shook his head like a dog and wrung out the long strands before exiting the cove and using his old shirt to pat himself dry. Before leaving the cove he saw a flower nestled in a patch of bulrush. Its petals were white that bled to a dark pink. It reminded Micah of that marooon getup Mary-Beth was wearing at the domino table earlier.

He picked the flower without a second thought and hid it in the folds of his red shirt.

He returned to camp dressed in the grey shirt and his dusty white pants, hat low on his head. He knew people were looking at him now, freshly bathed and in a new shirt. It made his skin prickle unpleasantly, but snapping at that scrawny mutt that wandered into camp made him gain some control back of the situation. 

After storing the soap and his dirty shirt back in his chest, Micah flopped on his bedroll, the flower stem pinched between his fingers. He wondered briefly what kind of flower it was, but he was sure Mary-Beth wouldn’t care. His mouth felt dry and his heart did that stupid pitter patter in his ribcage. A sip or two of whiskey calmed his nerves before he gathered the journal and flower in his hands. 

The sun was just starting to bathe the sky in a mellow orange color, and most people were off doing whatever after dinner. Marston, Uncle, and Javier were sitting around the main fire, and Morgan’s horse was gone. 

Slicking back his still damp hair, Micah slinked around the tents toward the girls’ tent. He got lucky enough that Karen and Tilly weren’t anywhere nearby, but Mary-Beth was curled up on the ground scribbling away in a journal. 

Micah stopped a few feet off to the side of her tent, working his jaw and trying to figure out the right words to say. Morgan would know what to say without a problem, prolly something flirty or a greeting-

“Uhm… good evening, Mr. Bell…?” Mary-Beth’s quiet voice broke him from his thoughts and pushed him to action. 

“Good evenin’, Ms. Gaskill-” Micah awkwardly shuffled closer to the bedrolls before playing with the leather of the journal in his hands, “I uh, I came to- Shit. Here.” With a severe lack of flattery, Micah held the book out to Mary-Beth. 

Mary-Beth tilted her head and confusion flashed on her face as she slowly set down her pencil and journal. “What’s this for?”

“I uh- saw ya like to write, and I saw this at the general store.” Micah said dumbly before remembering the flower he was worrying in his calloused hands. “And uh saw this at the shore line, thought ya might like it.” 

Micah could have imagined the light blush that colored Mary-Beth’s cheeks in the evening lighting, but she took the flower, their fingers brushing. “Oh, why… I’m sorry, Mr. Bell this is all very… odd.” She twisted the flower stem in her grasp, not meeting his eyes as she chewed on her lip. 

Micah turned away, teeth gritting together as anger surged up through his body. Of course she would reject him just like every other whore-

“Thank you, though. It’s a very lovely gift, and the journal too. Mine is on it’s last few pages…” Mary-Beth took one of the curled locks of her hair and tugged on it bashfully. 

Micah blinked, the anger draining from his body like a long needed piss. “Oh, uh, you’re welcome, Ms. Gaskill. I-I’ll leave ya to your writin’ now.” As Micah swiftly walked away he heard Mary-Beth’s muffled giggle. It wasn’t born of ill-humor, but it sounded like it was a flustered one. 

He could get used to hearing that more often.