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#dewberry creek
thegunslingerstragedy · 10 months
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𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒕
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purpledragongaming · 1 year
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Arthur Morgan Lemonye / Scarlett Meadows / Dewberry Creek ~ Red Dead Redemption 2 © 2018; developed by Rockstar Games Caps made by purpledragongaming​.  Please do not delete credits.
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hylorien · 11 months
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Let the boyfriends out for a little date <3
Idea credit to: @jessrosedraws
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whats-in-a-sentence · 15 days
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The Ne'er-Do-Well
Arthur M. Sampley
When Enoch should have been at work,
He might be fishing in the creek,
Or when the dewberries were ripe,
He'd leave his plowing for a week.
He'd take an hour to smoke a pipe,
Sitting with legs crossed like a Turk.
And yet the banker, looking grim
When Enoch with a note past due
Had left his corn patch to the cows,
Sought a persimmon grove he knew
And, finding Enoch in the boughs,
Stared long and wistfully at him.
"Reflections on a Gift of Watermelon Pickle... And Other Modern Verse" - compiled by Stephen Dunning, Edward Lueders, and Hugh Smith
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immajustvibehere · 7 months
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Touch Starved Arthur x fem!touchy Reader (Part 2)
Pairing: hh!Arthur Morgan x fem!Reader (fluffly)
Part1 here!
summary: Arthur takes you and Jack out camping for two nights. Both of you have to battle your feelings for each other until you finally....
warnings: one bed trope, fluff, domestic bliss
6000 words
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In the manner of Arthur’s approach, you knew he was up to something. His big hands rested on his gun belt, his expression was casual. His attempt to appear relaxed was almost perfect. You weren’t fooled so easily, though. By the smug grin that started to appear on your face as Arthur came closer, he understood that you had sensed his unease from a mile away. Your intuition was exceptional, and Arthur silently cursed himself for his own transparency. And suddenly, there were his subtle tells…the scratching of his neck, the scrunching of his nose, the restlessness of his fingers caressing the leather of the belt.
"Hey, what's up?", you asked and propped your head up with your elbow resting on the table.
"Uhm...I have a proposition to make", Arthur awkwardly sat down at the table. Thankfully, barely anyone else was around to witness this encounter. The sun hadn’t risen yet and people were only slowly crawling out of their beds. In fact, Arthur still saw the remnants of sleep in your features but the steaming mug of coffee in front of you suggested that you were diligently combating it.
"I'm all ears."
Arthur couldn’t help but detect the playful undertone in your voice. You had grown more comfortable around each other the last few days and weeks and some banter and teasing were commonplace by now, particularly in the presence of others. But when you found yourselves alone, which hadn’t really happened since last time, you’d feel like there was a more genuine connection and care for each other than either of you would normally let on.
"Ya can say no if ya don't want to but-...well, I already talked to Abigail. She said she was fine with it", Arthur started. You had no clue what he was on about, but he pressed on, "I suggested we take out Jack for a night or two. The boy needs to see something aside this patch of land and I thought...if you would wanna tag along? You know, I was fine fishing with him but I'm not sure if I'd be any good at the other stuff."
"Yes, of course", you immediately replied. Arthur wasn't sure why he had expected a rejection or a dismissal that he was stupid to suggest such a thing. You actually looked pleasantly surprised about the idea.
You smiled: "It's not just Jack, you know? I haven't left camp since we moved here, so I'll get to see some of the country too!"
"Okay, sure", Arthur said, still somewhat in surprise about what you had just agreed to. But his surprise soon gave way to a sense of anticipation, especially when he noticed enthusiasm. He couldn’t supress a warm chuckle, evidently relieved that everything had worked out.
You briefly discussed the logistics, and Arthur settled on a plan: a night between Dewberry Creek and Ringneck Creek for the first stop, followed by, if Jack was up for it, a night in a room at the Rhodes Saloon.
The following day, you were all packed up. Your horse carried a rolled-up tent, large enough to accommodate the three of you. Jack rode with Arthur, he was the experienced rider after all and would be much greater use in keeping the child from sliding off the horse. It was a fine day, the morning sun was veiled behind some clouds, offering a respite from the usual stifling heat. Rain wasn’t to be expected, the clouds looked like they would clear sooner or later.
For the ride, Jack was dead silent for ten minutes at a time but then asked any question he could come up with. Arthur appreciated your willingness to respond, particularly when faced with Jack’s more challenging inquiries that needed to be tailored for a child’s understanding. Arthur was outright impressed at your skill in addressing his questions, and kept silent, even if Jack wanted his view on something specifically.
It was a smooth ride. Once you had passed the first creek you kept looking for an ideal spot to build your camp. You watched happily how Arthur pretended to discuss the area with Jack, granting him the final say in where to put up the tent. Arthur was responsible for the tent while you went off with Jack to look for firewood. When you returned, the tent had been putt up and Arthur had already gotten out the fishing gear.
"Are we fishing again?", Jack asked with curiously.
"Well, we gotta eat something", Arthur answered.
"But fishing's boring!" Jack said back and Arthur chuckled warmly. The last time he took the boy fishing, it was anything but uneventful, though he understood that a four-year-old wasn't so keen on standing still and waiting.
You squatted in front of Jack: "Why don't you take your toys with you to the water? You can play and Arthur and I'll do the boring waiting."
"Mh, okay."
You walked over to Ringneck Creek. Arthur settled on the same spot he had been to while fishing with Javier a while back. It had a good overlook of the place, so Jack could play in the distance, while still being in eye- and earshot. You and Arthur sat down next to each other, not saying anything and prepping the fishing rod. Even when there were no words exchanges, both of you felt comfortable in each other’s presence. Arthur felt your eyes on him as he pierced a tiny bit of cheese through the hook and handed the rod to you.
“The fish get cheese for lunch? That’s mighty fine, don’t you think?”, you joked.
“This cheese? It has been mouldy for days now. It won’t do us any good. But for fish? The stinker, the better”, Arthur explained and added in a mumble, “Or so I’ve heard…”
You both threw out your line and before you quipped: “So you keep your mouldy cheese in your satchel with the rest of your food?”
Arthur watched the rings expanding around his line, then swallowed quickly before looking you in the eye. Not very convinced he answered: “No…?”
He had expected a lesson on proper food hygiene, but you only grinned cheekily: “Glad I took care of food for this trip. But you really shouldn’t do that, you know? Next time you leave camp for more than a day, I’ll pack you something.”
“Ya don’t have to do that, really”, Arthur replied out of politeness, but the idea of you walking up to him with a sandwich to take on his journeys sent tingles to his chest.
“Mh. I insist”, you said, “I’ll have to take care of you if your stomach goes mad, so I’d rather prevent that. Not that I wouldn’t like to take care of you. Don’t you never keep an injury or sickness a secret in front of me, got it?”
“Yes ma’am”, Arthur said, “You sound like Miss Grimshaw, it’s good yer away from camp for a while”, Arthur joked. Deep down, he knew that you didn’t want to control him, but that you sincerely cared for his well-being. Something Arthur couldn’t quite understand. Of course, he would do the same for you – but that’s different because he had already figured out that he liked your attention more than anyone else. No, that he liked you more than anyone else. Arthur got a little lost in his own thoughts. He wasn’t yet entirely sure about his feelings for you. Mainly because he wasn’t sure how you felt. You were so kind and caring for everyone in the gang, he sadly doubted that he was anything special.
“I missed spending some time with you. Sorry that it’s so hard to sneak away from camp”, you said after a while, bringing Arthur back to reality.
“Doesn’t matter”, Arthur mumbled. He was embarrassed that he felt his cheeks getting warm, “We got away now, didn’t we? I feel almost bad that I take up so much of yer time.”
“Please don’t”, you laughed, looking at the man next to you with a smile.
“I think I saw Sean shed a tear when he heard that you’d be away from camp for two days”, Arthur mentioned.
“Yeah. I think he’s sweet on me”, you said so casually, that Arthur was caught off guard, staring at you in disbelieve.
Arthur cleared his throat before he slowly said: “I thought he and Karen…?”
“Well, Karen is good for one thing”, you said with an ambiguous smile, not meaning serious offence with those words, “I’m good for another.”
From the distance, you heard Jack calling for ‘uncle Arthur’. Arthur sighed with a smile and handed you his finishing rod.
“Yer okay to watch that?”, he asked.
“Sure, go ahead”, you encouraged him.
Jack wanted Arthur’s help to balance on a dead tree. It was wholesome to see how Arthur helped him up on the trunk and then held his hand so he would have an easier time balancing. Then the boy would sit on Arthur’s shoulders and break a smooth looking branch from a tree, using it to play swords fighting with Arthur. You knew that Arthur was gentle with Jack and compared to some men in the gang, even to John if you were honest, he was doing a great job. Still, you hadn’t dreamt that he'd be ready to take on a whole swords fight, pretending to get stabbed when Jack’s twig poked his leg. You noticed Arthur’s stolen glances in your direction. It was as if he wanted to make sure you were watching, though you didn’t have the impression that he only played along to impress you. Arthur seemed to genuinely enjoy it.
“Caught anything yet?”, Arthur’s voice woke you up from your daydreams when he walked up to you after a while.
“No…”, you answered and admitted, “I was a little distracted.”
“Ain’t blamin’ ya. We gave you a hell of a show”, Arthur said and took his spot next to you again. Luckily, a few fish bit later on and by the time you walked back to your tent, a fire could be built and the fish were grilled. A lot of time had passed, and the sun was already low in the sky. Jack demanded to be read to from his favourite book. After you had read a few pages and Jack had settled in to listen to some more, you handed the book to Arthur. He had been busy with stoking the fire and cleaning the grit, so he was a little caught off guard by the action.
“What am I supposed to do with that?”, he asked.
“Read to the boy”, you answered with a grin.
“Why can’t you?”, Arthur asked, his eyebrows raised in wonder.
“My throat is starting to feel sore”, you lied so obviously, that even Jack could have seen through it, “besides; I want someone to read to me too.”
Arthur considered the situation for a moment before giving in. The last time he read a book to someone…well, he wasn’t sure. Was it to Jamie when he was still a little boy or to Isaac? Did he ever even read out to Isaac? Arthur was prompted into opening the book when you suddenly snuggled up to him. But that alone made him lose his voice for a moment, so he had to collect himself before starting to read.
You loved how raspy Arthur’s voice would get when he was nervous, but it soon smoothed out and he had barely read for ten minutes when you had to stop him, because Jack had fallen asleep.
“’s barely even dark…”, Arthur commented after he had carried the boy to his bedroll in the tent.
“He did have an eventful day”, you said, and Arthur had to agree. The bottle of whiskey Arthur had brought was soon opened up and half was gone by the time you could make out the first stars in the sky. A lot of your conversation was just recollecting the day or commenting on happenings on the last few days, but after some silence, Arthur started a new conversation.
"Maybe, if ya told me what the other men ask you to do, I'd feel less a fool for asking ya fer something", Arthur suggested. The undertone of his voice revealed curiosity, but he had tried to keep that intent hidden. You were surprised that he remembered what you had talked about the last time it was just the two of us.
"You're unbelievable!", you exclaimed and giggled so light-heartedly. Arthur's heart melted when he saw the crinkles around your eyes. "You just want the gang's gossip!", you accused him.
"No! I'm just sayin'", Arthur shrugged with a smile, "It would really help a lot."
You looked at him, his blue-greenish eyes staring right back at you. You were an avid eye-contact holder, it was required for your role in the gang. But no pair of eyes ever compared to Arthur's. It was his turn to catch your gaze wandering to his lips, he also noticed how your eyes fluttered, when they looked up again, and then briefly away, as if you considered something.
"Fine. I'll tell you some. But I won't tell you who asked me for what."
"Sure."
"Mhhh...it's not the craziest stuff, if you’re expecting that. Most men like when I play with their hair. Or head scratches. I told you I was good at them! Someone likes it when I feed them. Like...you know...we go pick some berries and I feed them. It can be really,...domestic, I suppose. But then it becomes a lot of fun because we try to throw the berries into each other mouths, trying to catch them. It’s great..."
You got slightly embarrassed. When you spend time with other men from the gang, you always tried to give them an experience that made them happy. Some of it was oddly intimate. It didn't bother you much, but now, speaking about it with Arthur, you somehow started to worry that you'd be worth less in his eyes. Just because you have done those things with his friends. It wasn't like you slept with them. No, none, with very few exceptional instances, have ever been inappropriate.
You were silent for a while, those thoughts taking over quickly. And yet, what should it matter? It’s just Arthur, it was okay if he knew that side of you.
You sighed deeply, still finding Arthur’s eyes glued to your lips.
"Some of them like to show off to me. It's real stupid stuff. Like 'look how quick I can draw' or 'check out this piece of wood I whittled'. I suppose these are just things they are mildly proud at...but embarrassed to show someone. I...like that, though. It's really cute and reveals something about the person. There is always something to praise or enjoy about it. And they really appreciate it."
Arthur stared into the fire, nodding his head slowly.
After a while, he started with: "I ehrm-..." Then he pulled out his journal.
"It's nothing special either...", he flipped through some pages, only to reveal a double-sided sketch of Clemen's Point. A beautiful sketch, well-observed with depth and detail. You knew Arthur kept a journal – you never knew he drew in it! And from all the sketches the other men had ever shown you, most of them could have been done better by Jack, this was honestly impressive.
"Arthur-"
"I know, 's silly", and he was about to close the journal when you snatched it out of his hand and placed it in your lap. Not daring to flip the page but studying the sketch in front of you.
"Are you kidding? It's fucking amazing."
When Arthur looked at you in disbelieve, you doubled down: "Fuck you, man. I can't even pick out things I like to praise because the whole damn thing's just-!"
"Yer teasing me..."
"Am not! When someone shows me a drawing, I often have to guess, like ‘Oh, that’s a nice bison you drew.’ And then they correct me and go like ‘It’s supposed to be a dog.’ and we have a good laugh about it…but this…Is that Dutch's horse?", you asked, pointing at the little white stallion. Arthur confirmed it. You started to point at things, accurately identifying what it was. John's tent, the chicken coop, even the figure in the distance, that only was a vague outline of a person, you identified as if you had been there when it was drawn.
"You have more drawings in there?", you asked.
"Sure. But- wait", he took the journal back, carefully skipping the pages where he had sketched you, which had happened suspiciously often recently, and only showing you the landscapes and animals. You never expected that Arthur had an eye for things like that. A doe was captured perfectly in its shy manner. A funny looking cabin, a crooked tree. For all those things, Arthur stopped and took his time to draw them. It was stunning. You felt like he had given you a better idea of what sort of a man he actually is. To say you liked that version of him, was an understatement and you started to realise this with every sketch of ducks or fish he presented to you.
"When you find someone, someone you really like. And start a family...you could draw and sell those pictures, you know?"
Arthur was shocked. Firstly, why you knew about his wish to start a family, and secondly, that you suggested his drawings are nearly good enough for anyone to pay money for.
"Y/n", Arthur lamented, almost with a painful voice. As if you were that naive girl that had no idea about how life works. That there could never be a family for him, never a different life than shooting and robbing to get to some money.
"Have you ever painted? Like with colour and a paintbrush?", you interrupted.
"Ain't worth it. I'd be no good with colour. And it's too expensive."
"When's your birthday?", you asked out of the blue. You were determined. If you had to work your ass off for it or drop to your knees in front of Miss Grimshaw, you'd get this man a paintbrush.
"No", Arthur said firmly.
"Come on!", you quipped.
"Stop it. It's just a stupid thing I do to pass some time it ain't-"
"But I love them!", you interrupted, "I really do. Every single one you showed me."
"Clearly, something ain’t right in your head then", Arthur joked and put his journal away.
"You are a charming man, Mr. Morgan," you teased back, bumping into his shoulder.
As if your words had confirmed Arthur's accusation, he comically tapped your forehead with his index finger: "Really messed up, aren't you?"
"Why?", you said, switching gears and skilfully capturing Arthur's finger that had went for another tap. It took both of your hands to open Arthur's hand, not that he resisted, but his hands were huge. And with your guidance, Arthur's hand cupped your cheek. "Is it because I like to spend time with you? Do you think one has to be mad to enjoy that? Because if you do think that...I have to give you ten reasons why you are wrong."
Arthur barely listened to your words. His senses were hyper focused on his hand which was touching your cheek. Warm and soft. Not smooth like a perfect hide, but skin isn't perfect. Hell, his hand must be mighty uncomfortable. It was calloused, beaten up, scarred. There was no rational reason why you would snuggle your face into it like it was a pillow you readied for a night's sleep.
With pleasure you watched how often he blinked, how flustered he became, how his hand twitched in excitement under your touch. As careful as you were some butterfly, Arthur’s thumb dared to caress your cheek. The movement was so small, it was like he didn’t even want you to notice that you he had dared to do that. Somehow, this rough and hardened outlaw was a real sensitive guy. A sensitive guy who made your stomach flutter.
"I'll head to bed and join Jack, you coming too?", you asked, guiding Arthur's hand into your lap and holding in lightly with your two hands.
"Imma...t-take care of the fire a little longer", Arthur answered with coarse voice, his throat entirely dried up.
"M'kay", you smiled and stood up without letting go of Arthur's hand. Halfway in the process of standing up you halted, pressing a light kiss on Arthur's cheek and whispered good night, before finally letting go and walking off to the tent.
Though you were exhausted, it was tricky to sleep. You listened to Arthur who was still attending the fire, walking up and down, whispering to the horses and occasionally took a swig from the bottle. Jack slept at the side of the tent, you had taken the spot in the middle. No matter how long it felt until sleep finally took over, Arthur crawled into the tent ten minutes later, only to find out that you had messed with the sleeping set-up. It wasn’t the way he had arranged it, namely, a very inequal distribution of blankets and ‘pillows’ (rolled-up jackets or other garments). Arthur had planned to spend the night without a blanket, so you and Jack had two. But you had given up one of yours, which neatly waited on Arthur’s bedroll for him.
“She ain’t gonna make this easy for me”, Arthur thought, before lying down.
-
“Uncle Arthur!”, Jack squatted next to the man who was still fast asleep. Well, until the boy started to shake him with all his might, though it barely rattled the man.
“Aunt y/n told me to wake you”, Jack smiled innocently. Arthur was trying to grasp the situation. For a fleeting moment, he thought there was danger nearby. Then he had been confused about why Jack was there. Only slowly, as Jack left the tent and the rays of sunshine hit his face, he remembered that he had went out camping with you and the boy. And clearly, he had overslept.
Arthur crawled out of the tent and stood up with a groan, stretching his tired limbs. The smell of coffee had reached his nose before he looked down to see Jack walking towards him, a half-filled cup in his hands.
“For you”, he exclaimed. Arthur took the mug and mumbled his thanks, looking up a little to finally lay eyes on you. The fire was on, the percolator boiling with water, and he saw that you were in the process of readying a little pan for some eggs you had apparently taken from camp.
“Good morning”, you said with a big smile.
“Sorry I overslept…”, Arthur grumbled, sitting down by the fire.
“Nothing to be sorry for. I’m glad you could catch up on some sleep.”
Breakfast was nice. You scrambled some eggs, garmented them with herbs you had collected earlier and re-filled Arthur’s mug. Jack was happy after eating a few bites and then playing with his toys in the distance. Arthur and you discussed the rest of the day and decided you would take your time, see if Jack was up for a ride and a stroll through Rhodes and spending another night at the Saloon.
Later, Jack helped you with washing the dishes at the creek. You managed to talk him into throwing a wet rag at Arthur, which he answered by throwing the rag back at you. This started a game of dogde or catch the rag. You laughed a lot. By mid-day you were on your horses, carefully navigating the shadows to escape the relentless sun. After one very slow hour of riding, with breaks whenever Jack discovered something interesting on the ground that needed further investigation, you arrived in Rhodes. After restocking on groceries, you made your way to the saloon, finding it relatively quiet and peaceful still.
“Can I help you, folks?”, the bartender asked, leaning on the counter.
“A room, please”, Arthur stated briefly. The bartender considered you for a moment, his eyes wandered from Arthur to you and finally your hand that rested protectively on Jack’s shoulder.
“We have a special deal for families. Spacious room, enough beds and a discount on a bath”, the bartender explained, opening the ledger where he kept track of which rooms were taken.
“Sounds great!”, you chimed in happily before Arthur could do as much as open his mouth.
“There you go. Walk up the stairs behind there, first door on the right”, the bartender handed you the keys, “Just let me know when you want the water heated up.”
“Will do, thanks!”, you answered. Your free arm was quickly intertwined with Arthur, who was taken by surprise. He stiffened a little but walked off with you and Jack rather convincingly.
“Whoa! This bed is huge!”, exclaimed Jack when you walked into the room.
“Ain’t for you though, little man”, Arthur chuckled. The room was equipped with a bed that was big enough to fit a couple and a toddler, but there was still a children-sized one in the corner. Arthur noticed how your arm slipped away from his as you entered the room, dropping some of your luggage onto the floor.
“Luxurious, isn’t it?”, you smiled. It was definitely better than the rooms you’d get in Valentine and probably even cleaner than the other ones the saloon had to offer. Jack was settling in, testing how bouncy his mattress was and unpacking his toys while Arthur walked up to you, clearing his throat.
“Yer fine with sharin’ a bed?”, he asked.
You raised an eyebrow: “We shared a tent last night, and that was a much tighter fit, wouldn’t you say so?”
“I guess…”, Arthur felt a little helpless. Sharing a bed felt more domestic and intimate than sharing the same tent. Also, Jack wouldn’t be all snuggled up to you, but in his own bed at some distance. Frankly, Arthur was excited. You watched his frown, not quite sure if its origin was because of discomfort or simple nervosity.
“Are you okay with that? I could bring my bedroll and-“, you wanted to suggest, but Arthur was quick to interrupt you: “I just didn’t know if you were fine with it. I don’t want ya to feel uncomfortable.”
“Don’t worry about me”, you smiled, “I’ll go down and ask for a bath. Abigail will be glad I we bring the boy back cleaner than he was before.”
Arthur was alone in the room for nearly an hour, before you and Jack appeared with damp hair, smelling of soap. It was decided that Arthur would also make use of the warmed-up water, and as he went off to the bathroom, you and Jack set your plan in motion.
By the time Arthur returned he was met with a sight that initially puzzled him. The two of you had transformed the little corner with Jack’s bed using the limited resources available to you, creating a makeshift fort out of pillows and blankets. Jack’s small bed had been turned into a cozy cave of sorts, sheltered from the outside world to the point where you needed a lantern to read a book within.
Arthur didn’t even see you at first, he only heard Jack’s bubbly giggle and you shushing him. For a moment, he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to play along and pretend that he didn’t know where you were…like some sort of hide-and-seek. But he decided against it, instead sighing happily, and sitting down on the big bed.
“I can hear ya, ya know?”, he said gently.
“No you can’t!”, Jack said back.
“Should have built it bigger, doesn’t look like I’ll fit underneath there”, Arthur commented. Now, you peeked out. Arthur saw how you opened a mouth, but something stopped you for a moment. His hair was wet and slicked back. He hadn’t even bothered putting on his shirt, but instead only wore his pants and union suit underneath. Hell, he hadn’t even bothered to button it all the way up. It hugged his muscles perfectly. You knew he was in good shape, but you hadn’t expected THIS.
“Shouldn’t have grown so big then”, you finally said, a fine blush on your cheeks.
As the evening advanced, you had read several chapters to Jack, lulling him into slumber. You then quietly slipped into the bed beside Arthur. After some casual conversation which both of you skilfully and awkwardly used to get closer to each other, Arthur asked something that had been on his mind for a while: "What do you get out of it? All the nurturing and caring for everyone in the gang? Has any one of them ever done right by you?"
"Well...I have a place to stay and sleep. I don't have to worry too much about earning money. And I like making others happy."
Arthur didn't like that. A place to sleep and food, he felt like, shouldn't be things you had to earn by listening to the complaints of others all the time.
"All you get is hearing the troubles of some dirty, foolish outlaws. Ain’t really a life, is it?"
"Some make me happy too", you admitted, quietly. You realised how Arthur tensed up slightly.
"I get to know y'all. Don't you think that's a privilege? For a woman my age? Others can't simply walk around in the street, offer some hand-holding a listenin' and expect this to pay for their meals."
"You want to do this for the rest if your life?", Arthur asked. You scanned his body, focusing on the dark hair that grew on his chest.
"No", you whispered, and gently, you put your hand on his chest. You felt his heart, no, you saw how it beat, the skin of his chest swiftly moving in an up and down movement.
Arthur...was different than the others. You didn't know if it was that there was an actual difference, or if it just felt differently. But the way he treated you, the way he held you...it was so gentle. Like it was touch meant for a lifetime. The others were slightly more prudish, because they knew they had a couple of hours with you and maybe they'd be shot and die the next day. Somehow...not Arthur. When he pulled you closer into a hug, it was always the same, as if it was a welcome back, a coming home. There was no holding onto it, because he sorts of knew you would always be there. And you wanted it to be like that too. Because you, as tricky it was to admit, had feelings for this man.
Now it was you who caught Arthur staring, staring at the unsure movements your lips made as you searched for something to say. Maybe to explain what this all meant to you.
"Do you think it's ridiculous, what I do?", you asked. You wanted to know Arthur's opinion, truly.
"What? No."
"Really?"
"Hell, we'd be a bunch of degenerates if ya didn't keep us together. Yer ignoring Micah. For good reasons, I gotta say, and look what a slimy no-good he is. We'd be all like that if it wasn't for you", Arthur said. There was humour in his voice, but he meant what he had said. You smiled slightly.
"I wish I had come to you earlier", Arthur said.
"We are making up for the lost time, aren't we?", you said and leaned into him. The gesture seemed so familiar that Arthur wrapped his arms around you with barely any thought. Arthur watched your fingers as they trailed through his hair on his chest, never resting somewhere for long but tracing lines from his collar bones to where his beard started on his neck.
“Do you mind?”, you whispered, your fingers resting on a button of his suit.
Arthur subtly shook his head and watched how you unbuttoned one button after another. You had him slip out of the sleeves so the suit could be pulled further down, now exposing his entire abdomen to you.
There was no way he could hide his hitched breath. Your touch tickled pleasantly as your fingers explored his skin. He was enjoying those careful attentions, you'd trace around bruises and old scars, Arthur was focused on how it felt differently, the abused flesh and the scar tissue that had lost sensitivity. He noticed, either for the first time ever, or he had forgotten in the meantime, how ticklish he was on his side, under the ribs. He had no urge to laugh, but his body reacted to your touch differently, squirming when your skin brushed over his. Arthur noticed that you took a liking to those reactions, because he felt the corner of your mouth, which was pressed into his arm as you leaned into him, curl into a smile.
It was quiet. Sometimes the yells of a bar fight could be heard or someone hammering on the piano, but that aside, it was only Jack's silent snores that disturbed the peace.
"Arthur?", you whispered and sat up.
"Mhm?", Arthur looked sleepy. It wasn't even that late yet, but something about the situation was making him sleepy in the best way. You said nothing more. You only put your hand on his cheek, briefly caressing his stubble.
"Would it be okay if I kissed you?", you asked.
For a few moments, Arthur's mind went completely blank. He only breathed a shaky "Yeah" and your lips brushed his already.
Instantly, Arthur's hands pulled you in closer. You were close, lips brushing, breathing each other's air. It was all you needed, before both of you finally pressed into each other.
You knew Arthur was gentle, but this sort of tenderness took even you by surprise. And Arthur- well, he was pretty sure he was dreaming. When was the last time he had kissed a woman? No, when was the last time he kissed a woman and felt like his heart was about to explode in his chest. He had craved this ever since the night you spent together. And by the way your hands wandered to his hair, fingers running through his strands, he knew you had wanted it just as much.
It was a soft kiss and both of you looked sort of surprised when it had ended. Arthur sat up slightly and pulled you on his lap, which earned him a happy grin. You started to pepper the man in front of you with kisses. Super light, as if a breeze was brushing his forehead, his cheek, his nose, under his ear, the corner of his lips. You had lost count, stirred on by a blushing Arthur underneath you.
"D-don't ya think that's enough?", Arthur said, kind of trying to dodge your kisses, but not really.
"Nope. You deserve this!", you said, but when you headed for his nose, Arthur managed to turn it into a proper kiss again.
Then you sank on his chest, lying on top of him with his arms wrapped around you.
For Arthur, this was a weird feeling at first. But he loved how your weight pressed him down into the mattress and how your hands always found a piece of his body to caress and tickle. He was embarrassed about how dry his mouth and throat became again, all of a sudden. He was convinced you realized how often he had to swallow and how hesitant he still was to move his hands any further down than the small of your back. Though if you noticed, you were very understanding. You clearly heard his heart hammering in his chest and waited patiently for it to calm down before speaking again.
"Can I tell you something silly?”, you said, lost in thoughts.
"Sure"
"I liked it when the bartender referred to us as family."
"Me too", and his hold on you became ever so tighter.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
@eyelovie @t3rritorial-piss1ngs @daenerysluvrr @cookiesandcreaminthetardis @tem60 @freshoutthewomb2 @itswormtrain @ineedyoubadly @lea-khena @anawkwardartistandgamer @pheesupremacy @tahitiansiguesss @c2ss1e @alyxhasonsocks @kagemaruzest69 @agaritas @lonesome-ranger @joelmillers-gf
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emmcfrxst · 2 months
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the only heaven i’ll be sent to (is when i’m alone with you); arthur morgan x reader
word count: 2K
warnings: smut!, afab!reader, religious themes (kinda. a bitch loves blasphemy<3), oral (f!receiving), body worship (arthur worships the ground you walk on), multiple orgasms (again, f!receiving), expressively asking for consent because that’s sexy! also yes the title is a hozier reference! feedback is appreciated as always <333
!!!!!MINORS DNI!!!!!
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The wind blows softly over the half-closed lapels of the tent you and Arthur had set up somewhere around Dewberry Creek, your old, rusted lantern creaking as it sways with the night breeze. The flickering light does not seem to bother your companion, however, as he flattens his tongue over the seam of your cunt, moaning greedily into you. Arthur’s eyes flutter closed in ecstasy as your fingers tangle in his hair, giving the honey brown strands a sharp tug when he delivers a particularly hard suck to your pulsing clit. Your legs close around his head instinctively, trapping him between your thighs, tense muscles flexing against the sides of his face. A soft, breathy apology leaves your swollen lips, the pressure disappearing soon after as your lover pins your body down with calloused hands, brushing off your apology with a chuckle against your skin. You do not have anything to apologize for; Arthur Morgan, a man who has escaped death more than once, would gladly let himself be smothered by your cunt if it came to it. What a way to go that would be, he thinks. The closest to heaven’s gates he will ever get. And although Arthur isn’t a man of religion, he is more than willing to spend every day and every night praying at the altar that is your body, worshipping every inch of you with his eyes, his lips, his hands. Every kiss, every mark you leave on his skin is a holy reminder of the love shared between the two of you; of the passionate nights where Arthur can forget all about his sins and fully allow himself to be bathed in the sacred light of your affections.
“There you go, beautiful. Come back to me.” he coos at you, pushing hair out of your teary eyes, a tender grin on his face. His thumb gently runs under your eyes, wiping away the moisture there as you come back to your senses, focusing on his form above you. The sight of him is like a punch to the gut; blue irises swallowed up by fully dilated pupils, lips swollen and shining with the evidence of your previous orgasms, his beard is soaked through and his breathing ragged. You let your eyes wander down to where his bulge is straining against his union suit, biting your lip. The effect is immediate— his cock twitches under your sultry gaze, a soft groan leaving your lover’s throat.
“Stop lookin’ at me like that.” Arthur warns lowly, calloused hands running over the bare skin of your thigh. You giggle, lifting yourself up to brush your lips against his, your hand running down his chest, feeling his muscles flex under your touch.
“Like what?” You ask innocently, the teasing curve of your smile betraying your oblivious act. Arthur glares at you playfully, hand coming down to squeeze your inner thigh.
“Like ye wanna do real bad things t’me.” He mutters, voice raspier than usual, dripping with arousal. Suppressing a grin, you sit up, letting your hands slide all the way down to cup him through his clothes, thumb gently pressing against the wet spot on his underwear. A sick sort of satisfaction fills you at Arthur’s reaction —pretty blue eyes fluttering closed, his lips part in a strangled moan, hips jutting forward, seeking more pressure. You allow him a few moments to bask in your touch, swirling your thumb around his tip through the fabric and cupping his balls, before taking your hands off of him, leaving him breathing heavily.
“Maybe I do wanna do real bad things to you, Mr Morgan.” you whisper against his neck, leaving open mouthed kisses over his pulse point. A satisfied little giggle leaves you when you hear him cursing under his breath, hips bucking upwards of their own volition. Your victory is short lived, however, as your lover pinches your clit in retaliation, making you cry out. Satisfied, a smug grin on his face, he finally bares himself to you, making your breath hitch. It isn’t the first time you see Arthur in all of his glory —far from it, really, but the sight of how strong, how capable he is always manages to steal the breath right from your lungs. Freckles adorn the robust planes of his shoulders, ascending all the way across the broadness of a back toned from years of hard work; a petite waist and powerful hips curve out into muscled thighs and chiseled calves— Arthur Morgan is truly a sight to behold. He flushes under your heated stare but says nothing —how wise of him, you think, for he knows by now that you would never allow him to look down on himself, not even under the pretense of a joke. You deserve better than the way you treat yourself, you’d told him a million times. And you’ll spend the rest of your life proving it— that he’s worth it, be it through words, comfort, actions or through the passionate entangling of your bodies and souls. Because sex is more than just that to the two of you; it is a way of communicating the love and the needs you have for one another— Arthur, so painstakingly touch starved before you came along, now revels in the physical familiarity you two share. From fleeting touches to lingering kisses, he simply cannot seem to get enough of you; he does not believe the longing in his heart could ever be quelled completely.
Trembling gasps leave the two of you as Arthur slides his cock between your folds, coating himself in your slick. Jolts of pleasure thrum through your body every time his tip bumps against your swollen clit, your soft cries of pleasure causing Arthur’s cock to twitch.
“Sweetheart, if you keep makin’ all them pretty noises it’s gonna be over b’fore it even starts.” His accent is thick and his voice is shaky, excited little tremors running through his body at your state of undoing —all because of him. He’s made a real mess out of the two of you; drenched, sweaty and needy — thick strips of your wetness clinging to Arthur’s lower abdomen, precum pearling over the tip of his cock and gliding down his length; yes, your lover is more than willing to drown himself in your shared desire, to indulge in the carnality of your bound. Wrapping a hand around himself, he groans behind clenched teeth, sensitive to the touch, fingers quickly getting wet from how thoroughly turned on he is. He, however, remains unashamed, having accepted long ago that he will never be in control when it comes to you —he has never felt so connected with another human being, be it physically, psychologically, mentally or emotionally and he no longer bothers trying to hide the way you make him feel.
Understood. Respected. Appreciated. Loved. Alive. He’d never felt so many emotions prior to meeting you. Had never felt so alive; had never wanted to keep going as much as he has since you walked into his life. You make it worth it.
Letting his lips brush along your brow line, Arthur curls the fingers of his free hand around one of your thighs, spreading you open for him.
“Ye still good? D’ye want me to stop?” He asks, blue eyes roaming over your bare form with tenderness, trying to assess the situation. Even with you soft, pliant and soaked underneath him, Arthur Morgan would never dare to make assumptions about your desires, would never be so single-minded as to claim you without expressed consent from your part. He needs to know you want this as much as he does, wants this to be good for you— he thrives on your pleasure and your pleasure alone; can only feel good if you are. It is one of the many reasons why you love him so deeply, but in your lusting daze, you find yourself too strung up to fully appreciate it.
“Arthur Morgan, if you stop now m’gonna kick your sorry ass—oh!” Your voice breaks off into a pitiful little whimper when his cock teases your entrance, a low, rumbling laugh leaving him.
“As you wish, m’lady.” He allows himself to be playful for a few moments longer, basking in the frustrated little furrow of your brows and your pouting lips before pushing inside in one smooth glide, aided by your shared arousal. Arthur curses under his breath as your cunt flutters around him, trying to adjust to his girth. The blunt ends of your nails leave crescent marks onto the broadness of his shoulders and Arthur clenches his jaw, doing his best to stay still and allow you a moment of reprieve from the sensations that overtake your body. Busying himself with leaving marks onto your skin, he soothes the spots where his teeth have dug into, lips moving feom your neck to your chest to take a nipple into his mouth. The loud, broken mewl you let out at the action makes him shiver, goosebumps spreading all over his skin at the sound, but he continues to stay still, waiting for you to give him the permission to go on. It’s only when your legs wrap around his waist that he does finally let himself move, pulling himself almost all the way out before sliding back in with a quick snap of his hips. Another cry leaves your lips at the action, although this time sounding strangled, your cunt clenching around your lover’s cock at the delicious friction he provides you with. Your foot presses into the meat of his ass, encouraging him to go faster, deeper— a silent demand he is quick to indulge in. A series of loud, wet noises begin resounding around the two of you, only motivating Arthur on to thrust harder; your back arching up into him when he starts battering that one spot inside of you, rough fingers coming down to rub circles onto your clit. The moans pour freely from your mouth and into his as he kisses you, tongues tangling together in a messy, sloppy fight for dominance. You’re vaguely aware of the spit trickling down your chin but are far too gone to care; the coil in your stomach getting tighter and tighter with every powerful snap of Arthur’s hips into yours. Already sensitive from your previous orgasms, you rake your nails down his back, trying to warn your lover of your impending climax. Alas, gargling moans are the only thing you can manage before you finally snap; vision going white, body going rigid under his, you repeat his name like a prayer as waves after waves of pleasure wash over you. Arthur isn’t far behind you, spurred on by your own release, a long, incredibly deep moan rumbling through his chest before he pulls out of you, sticky cum splattering across your stomach. Coming down from your high, you tuck a few strands of hair behind Arthur’s ears, fingers lingering on his face lovingly. He leans into your touch immediately, turning his head to press a gentle kiss into your palm, his body trembling with the aftermath of his own orgasm.
“Was…” He clears his throat, rolling off of you and pulling you along to rest on his chest. “Was that good f’r ya?” The gravelly tone of his voice cannot conceal the genuineness of his question, his fingers running down the length of your spine. It makes you smile— he makes you smile, your sweet cowboy. Shifting to look at him, you kiss him right over his heart, fondness warming your features.
“It was. It always is, with you. I love you.” And despite it not being the first time you utter those words— far from it, really— emotion still takes over Arthur’s heart and features, eyes shining with a sheen of tears.
Love. You love him.
No, Arthur Morgan may not be a religious man, and he remains unconvinced of God’s existence, but he does know one thing; you are his little piece of heaven on Earth.
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ursaspecter · 10 months
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Charthur headcanons bc idk I'm evil
Arthur made the first move. Charles always had to be careful being both gay and black in the 1800s. One wrong move could've been disaster.
Arthur and Charles both quietly crushed on each other for a while leading up to the Blackwater Massacre, but right before shit hit the wall, Arthur was going to confess his feelings.
Of course Arthur is so emotionally constipated he only sort of gets his point across before they have to pack up and leave.
But Charles sort of catches on, leading him to offer Taima for Arthur to ride in Ambarino as a way to sort of tell him he at least feels the same somewhat
It's nowhere near them actually saying "I have feelings for you" but it's a start. At least now after The Aftermath of Genesis they know the other one actually likes them if only platonically.
Their version of flirting is the little displays of affection they show. And by little I mean little. It's how Arthur tells Charles he needs to rest because of his hand. It's when Charles helps with the wagon in Eastward Bound.
I personally think at Sean's return party, Arthur gets hammered and finds Charles on guard duty. Only he doesn't exactly recognize it's him. Thinks he's just a very handsome stranger. I may have wrote a little fic about it. He technically confesses his feelings to Charles, he just doesn't realize it's him until Charles makes him realize.
And yet AND YET it's not enough to really make them start a romantic relationship because again! They're not the best at communicating their feelings. Arthur was drunk, and Charles doesn't want to push things until Arthur says the same things while sober.
They take things painfully slow at first. Yeah they have the hunting trip together and they'd both be lying if they said they didn't find it hot when the other killed their respective poacher.
When they went to stake out Dewberry Creek, Arthur had finally built up enough courage to tell Charles. For reals this time. That he loves him and wants to be with him. But of course we know how that ended.
Things are tense between them for a while. Arthur only comes along on Uncle's job when Charles gets involved because he wants to talk to him about how they left things. He never gets the chance though, unfortunately.
It's not until they're sent to find Trelawny when they finally get a chance to talk. Dutch sent them together on purpose because he (and everyone else) noticed how close they'd been. It's when Charles saves Arthur's life when the air is cleared between the two of them. They're still not officially an item yet, but at least they're in each other's good graces again.
Then Blessed Are The Peacemakers happens. When Arthur doesn't come back from the meetup, Charles starts to worry. The others tell him he'll be okay, but it doesn't really help to calm his nerves. He just throws himself into his work to try to get his mind off things.
Of course when Arthur finally returns all battered and broken, Charles can hardly stand the sight of him. Ms. Grimshaw and Strauss won't let anyone but Dutch or Hosea near him for a few days while they monitor him. The first chance he gets, Charles visits him with a bowl of stew. It's about as good a moment as any for a deeply emotional heart-felt conversation about their feelings right?
I like to think there was a bit more time between Arthur's recovery and "A Short Walk in a Pretty Town" so that he and Charles can have more cute moments together before. The horrors.
And then the rest of the timeline plays out mostly the same just with the added context that Charthur Real. So here's a bunch of little things about their relationship I think about a lot.
Arthur isn't a big fan of PDA, but Charles will sometimes give him a little peck on the cheek in front of the girls to make him a little flustered.
In private though, Arthur is so clingy. He and Charles may as well be tied together at the hip. He gives Charles the biggest warmest bear hugs, and he's almost always the big spoon when they cuddle. When Arthur is holding Charles, there is no escape.
Which is great for whenever Charles is understimulated and needs the weighted pressure. Sometimes he'll just ask Arthur to lay on him when it's really bad.
When Arthur grows out his hair he gets Charles to braid it sometimes. Y'know when he needs it out of his face.
Arthur loves giving gifts to Charles. Whenever he goes into town he always picks something up from the general store for him. Or if he goes out on a ride he brings back some burdock root or wild carrots for Taima or some yarrow or oleander for Charles himself.
Charles likes making things for Arthur instead of buying things. He'll make him some arrows or some health tonic. Sometimes he'll whittle something for Arthur too.
Arthur LOVES to draw Charles. He gets a whole separate journal just for Charles art.
When they get drunk together the entire camp is graced with their wonderful harmony (they are both so off key it hurts)
Sometimes they'll just go on rides together to nowhere in particular. Just riding for the sake of riding and enjoying each others company. They'll often just ride in silence, only speaking when giving directions or something.
Though sometimes they stay out too long "on accident" and have no choice but to camp out for the night. Oh no whatever shall they do.
My idea for their best ending is after American Venom, they get a ranch somewhere in Canada. Maybe a cattle ranch in Alberta or something. They both got the family bug from watching John and Jack. Arthur is understandably hesitant at first seeing as how his last venture into fatherhood ended, but after a lot of talk they decide that when they're ready, a family might be nice. I headcanon Charles as trans, so their kids would be biologically theirs if they decide to have them.
(Listen, listen, I know getting married with kids is not necessary for a happy ending. However I really love thinking about Arthur and Charles being dads and I think they'd be great at it! Plus Charles literally said he wants to start a family and I think he should be able to get what he wants!!!)
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graveyardgirl99 · 1 day
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So- replaying rdr2 and am at the end of chap 2. Right when Dutch finally made the move to get the gang to a different camp.. saying Micha suggested dewberry creek.
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The place is wide open and indefensible. Maybe people have said this before but, my theory is that this was Michas plan all along. Wanting in on the Van Der Linde Gang to get to Dutch because that bounty of his head is irresistible to not take. And Black water was his first try of getting Dutch either killed or arrested by the Law. But it failed, having underestimated Dutch and his Gang. So he uses this chance of failure to get closer to Dutch. I’m assuming Dutch has always had a feral and psychotic side to him. I’m guessing Dutch is aware of the killer inside of himself however actively chooses against it. I think that he was a genuinely good man trying to keep his inner monster quiet but with Micha by his side, that monsters urges are woken. And I believe that Micha has gotten aware of that too. Dutches only mistake was giving Micha the benefit of the doubt which allowed Micha to manipulate his way into Dutch’s mind.
So now after Strawberry and Robbing that stagecoach Micha had time to think of a new plan to fuck the gang over and collect the bounty on Dutch. Having drilled his words into Dutches head he suggests Dewberry Creek. Having probably been there before he noticed people camping at the spot already.. these need to go. With the money from the O’Driscoll stagecoach robbery he hires guns and tells them to do what ever just get rid of them so the spot is ready for the Gang. Having tipped them off that people will be coming to check the place out first. Why do I think so? Well because my German fellow told Arthur and Charles right away that it’s a Trap.
How can this be a trap when we assume that this is just coincidence? They’ve been tipped off by Micha.
After that things go as planned again for Micha, able to lead the Pinkerton to Clemens point and then the big Bank Robbery in Saint Denis. (He’s even wearing a different suit than the gang)
What wasn’t part of his plan is Guarma. However this again is another opportunity to finally get into Dutches mind and play him like a marionette. Dutch’s mind spiraling after hoseas death, the starvation on Guarma, the sun blasting down on them all this was too much and Dutch lost it. You can see how visibly shaken up he is after Guarma. He’s a shell.
I think that Micha got frustrated that all his plans to lead Dutch into a trap failed that he went to the Pinkertons himself and told them everything. Now able to control Dutch, Arthur’s sickness, the members beginning to leave it all plays into his cards.
As Dutch said; for somebody this all is going exactly to plan.
Thank you for coming to my TED-Talk..
Leave your opinions, please! I’d love to know what yall think about this!
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jessrosedraws · 1 year
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Taking Charles on a date instead of staking out Dewberry Creek | misc
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red-dead-tastic · 1 day
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Prospector camp near Dewberry creek
He's watching. His eyes were open. I saw him. He saw me. We know.
Very cozy looking tent. Dunno why he's sleeping outside of it, though.
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fiveswashere · 8 months
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I know it’s implied that Micah didn’t start ratting to the pinkertons until after guarma. But I truly believe he was ratting to other people/law/gangs the entire time. The ferry job? Very well could’ve been bad luck, considering maybe about a dozen men were trying to rob a huge boat in a decent sized city. The train robbery you do with John in Chapter 2? Yeah he might’ve ratted on that one but I’m a bit iffy on that
But Arthur’s capture in BATPM? 100% he set that up. And why?
Because he didn’t get to give Colm the entire gang like he planned.
We know Colm was wanted to get the gang (or at least Dutch) somewhere where he could call the law on them. But we’ll come back to that later.
Now where was the “parlay” scheduled to happen? Close to Dewberry Creek. Where was it that Dutch sent Arthur and Charles to scout a new camp in chapter 3? Whose idea was it the gang moved there?
Arthur wasn’t meant to originally be bait. Because Colm was expecting them to go there, settle in and get comfortable. Then he could strike. But when this went didn’t happen, another plan had to be made.
And what a perfect way than getting Arthur, a man Dutch considers to be a son, isolated where he’ll be too focused on protecting Dutch than watching his own back.
What Micah planned to get out this we’ll never know. But the connections are just too obvious for it to have been anything else.
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thisisrigged4 · 9 months
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hello! :D I see you would like some charles-related content <3 (or anyone for that matter hehe)
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heres a present for u <3 also what's some of your favorite things about charles? :D (I.e personality traits, appearance , etc) that you just really really appreciate about his character? ;3
<3 <3 <3
I love how he is smiling slightly in that photo <3
It got a bit long than I first thought
What isn't there to love about his personality?
I love how he has a goofy sweetheart deep down and is not the stoic serious all-around man people make him out to be. For example, getting a drunken piggyback ride from John, "You should have taken the money." "I know, I'm a fool.", playfully grabbing at the prostitute's hand as Arthur insults them. Those fleeting moments and how sweet they are. (Also randomly tossing a chair in a bar fight was peek)
How understanding and patient he is too. Take Dutch and Molly/Susan for example and How Dutch snaps at them saying "How much he has going on and they want to talk" and yet Charles has just as much going on but anytime his friends need/call for him, he always has time/is willing to help or listen.
His "no nonsense" attitude and how he never leaves the player guessing in the game. Or how he doesn't tolerate negative people or behaviors. Like when Arthur was going to send away the German woman and her kids in Dewberry Creek. Or when Micah racially profiled him and Charles straight up yeeted the dude. My favorite one tho was in "An Honest Mistake" when Uncle/Arthur split up with Bill/Charles in the trees and the dialogue that follows
Charles - "Anything dumb Williamson, you're on your own."
Bill - "Oh shut the hell up."
The last one I'll include is compassion and wanting to help others/be better. For the natives, for the German woman in Chapter 2, Saving Jack in Chapter 3, stopping to look over Lenny after he is shot (He is literally the only one besides Arthur to not just breeze by the body; IG Javier to but he literally just peaks for two seconds before dipping). I know he wasn't fond of Kieran until a little before his death but (I at least) liked how we didn't see him torturing him like the others. Live and let live.
As for appearance, everything. I'm a sucker for a man with long hair. And the face, why does it have to be that damn beautiful? Seriously tho, his smile is awkward and adorable, I wish we had gotten to see it more. I am really obsessed with his face. Eye shape, beautiful.
So this is where it might get a bit weird but his hands are attractive to me and I can not explain why. Like, they are just hands, why so attractive?
That's my crazy ramblings, thank you asking friend <3
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purpledragongaming · 1 year
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Lemonye / Scarlett Meadows / Dewberry Creek ~ Red Dead Redemption 2 © 2018; developed by Rockstar Games Caps made by purpledragongaming​.  Please do not delete credits.
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infinitecookiesgaming · 2 months
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Dewberry creek
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shinemade · 16 hours
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out on personal business near dewberry creek. -- static visuals ??/??
do not reblog.
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eaaaazygurl · 2 years
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Take A Gamble That Love Exists (Part 2 of 2)
Read last post for the first part of the story!
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Morning arose as fast as it had taken for the liquor to drift you into a sleep. Once again you found yourself locked up against Arthur's broad chest, feeling the subtle rise and fall as he slept. You attempted to face him as you did the last time, only to suddenly realise half of his chest had been exposed, the buttons upon his union suit not resting within the slits upon the fabric to hold itself together.
You found yourself staring. You hadn't ever came face to face with a man as strong and burly as Arthur, covered in a fine layer of dark chest hair that you seemingly appreciated. He was certainly broad and toned with years worth of living as an Outlaw. It really did show.
Shaking the strange thoughts from your head, you shuffled awkwardly out of Arthur's grip and scampered out of the tent. Arthur didn't stir. The whisky certainly had him out cold. You guessed you'd be able to make use of the downtime and take a small trip around the valley's purple glade to hunt, seeing as Coyotes had made a meal of your Pronghorn that you had forgotten all about in your drunken state.
The valley was particularly beautiful this morning. The presence of spring brought a fine layer of sparkling rainbow dew drops that rested peacefully against undisturbed petals, a coat of spider webs creating a wonderful crystalline pattern as those fine strands too held onto the orbs of liquid. The little stream traversed downward, a light gurgling sound trailing from it as it made it's slow downward decent. The sun, whilst still holding it's sharp winter hue, finally had some semblance of heat. Still, it wasn't enough to go whipping your jacket off over, however much you appreciated the delicate warmth against the skin of your face.
You gave the leather strap a gentle tug at the reins of your steed, signalling him to hault. Just ahead of you were three Whitetail doe. With grace you slipped from the saddle of Starstreak, grasping the fine wood of your improved bow and a few arrows you had crafted a few days prior. A rather large boulder thankfully sheltered you, invisible by sight, though you still had to tread carefully. Deer had excellent hearing, and you didn't want to miss the opportunity.
Pulling back your arm with arrow in hand against the surface of your bow, you stifled a breath, closing an eye to get a better aim. The doe you aimed at had an immaculate pelt, you could use this to sell for a quick cash strap on your way back to the Heartlands.
You let your heart relax and your mind go blank, letting out a slow breath of air before your fingers released the arrow. The whistling sound of the arrow cutting through the air came to a standstill, a curdling squeal alerting you. The doe had gone down, dead in an instant whilst her two partners began to make haste for the shelter of woodland.
"A clean shot through the eye as always, Starstreak."
Stowing the catch, you made your way back to camp. In the distance you could just make out Arthur's figure hunched over the weak flames, a cup in hand.
"I forget you can't function without your morning coffee," Laughing softly you hitch Starstreak up, slipping off of the saddle and giving the stalion a gentle brush, tugging the doe from his rump.
Arthur took a careful sip, eyeing up the catch with an impressed grin, "Right through the eye?"
"You betcha," responding with a wink you placed the deer onto the ground, unsheathing your hunting knife, "how much longer did you wanna stay?"
"Forever." Arthur replied with a huff of amusement, drawing in another mouthful of the bitter black liquid.
"Dutch would have your head," You drew the knife into the stomach of the doe.
Arthur pursed his lips and sighed, nodding heavily, "Yeah no doubt about that. He'd have Charles track me down, best person for it." Arthur set himself back into a more comfortable position, "Charles was the one found Clemens Point. Originally we was gon' settle for Dewberry Creek,"
"That dried up riverbed on the outskirts of Lemoyne?" The knife split a perfect line down the stomach and towards the rear legs.
Arthur hummed a yes, shrugging, "Yeah tha's the one. Don't know what Micah and Dutch were thinkin'. Pinkertons would be able to pick us off like rabbits."
"It floods, too. Lemoyne is usually dry, rain hardly falls here but when it does, it pours. I was stuck out there once, Emil had to lasso me before I was swept away." You began on skinning the legs.
Arthur swirled the warm liquid in his mug, focusing on the way it swirled, "Good thing we didn't set up there, then." He continued, taking another hearty sip, "Me and Charles were told to scout the place. Turns out we weren't the first." You could see the reminence in Arthur's eyes as he explained away, "Found a German mother and her two children hiding underneath a wagon. The little girl told us about her father bein' taken, so Charles tracked em, all the way to Clemens Point."
You picked off the cloven hooves one by one, "Jesus, it's quite a distance from the creek too. Charles must be an expert tracker,"
"He sure is. Brilliant hunter, too. Gets it from his family I'd assume." Arthur took one last mouthful of coffee, "But- yeah. Should probably make this our last day, Dutch will most definitely be wonderin' where I am by now." Having finally finished his brew, Arthur placed down the cup and stood to come to your side, admiring the quick work you made of the doe; "That's some fine work!"
"Should make some good money on a pelt like this," flapping out the skin you carefully examined the pelt before setting it down to dry. You then spun your knife in your hand, baring it down into a section of flesh to trim the edible meat from the doe's bones. Arthur stood back, messing around inside his satchel whilst you made use of the carcass. It wasn't long before Arthur came to your side again, a map in hand, "Seein' as this is our last day, we should do somethin' fun. Ever gone fishing before?"
Tugging at the last of the edible flesh you stood to glance at the map and then to Arthur, nodding with a smile, "Yeah a few times. Wouldn't say I'm an expert at it though."
"Neither am I," Arthur unfolded the paper to reveal a rather poorly drawn map of all of the states within the East. Within many of the bodies of water were large fish, numbered, "Some guy gave me a map for some 'legendary' fish. Said he'd offer money if I sent him the ones I manage to find. Turns out there's one just round here." His finger tapped against what looked like a brook trout.
"Ah yeah, looks good! Let me just store these bits and we can go take a look."
After you had salted and stored the chunks of game into a makeshift box, buried in a shallow dip, you and Arthur mounted your horses and set off towards the bow of the stream. It wasn't far, you could still see the campsite in the distance. Your hand explored the deep pocket of your saddlebag, eventually grasping onto a smooth, extendable pole. Arthur had already set himself up, whisking out his line with a whistle. You were quick to join soon after, enjoying the pleasant weather and shallow, cool breeze. Fishing demanded patience and quiet. You both remained that way for a while, focusing on the sounds of the wilderness around you. That's when you caught Arthur from the corner of your eye. He wasn't focused on the line, but at you. You didn't bother to say anything or alert Arthur that you had caught him staring, but curiosity ebbed at you like a leach. His ocean eyes were examining your stance, a corner smile forming on his lips.
Suddenly the stream erupted in a flurry of splashing, disturbed water. Arthur was briskfully taken unaware, yelping as his hands almost slipped from the pole. His heels dug into the silt of the stream bank, pulling aimlessly at the line, reeling inward as fast as he possibly could. Finally, the fish broke water and Arthur pulled it into his grip, a brow raised.
"That the right fish?" Your line still bobbed in the water, undisturbed. Arthur let out a groan and shook his head, "Nah, this looks like a common stream fish. A big one though! Might be worth keepin'." As Arthur debated on whether or not he should keep his catch, you felt a nibble at your line. The lure you could originally see vanished within an instant, and an eruption of water flailed into the air. Your hands tightened around your pole, hoisting the line upwards as your feet struggled to stay central to your body. Reel in, tug upward. Reel in, tug upward. You repeated that motion, your face focused and yet full of amusement and exhilaration. A bright smile grew on your lips as you took a step backwards to hoist the fish in further.
Arthur gazed at you, his eyes wide. He studied you, focusing on the way your expression beamed, your bright smile, the way you handled yourself. Your long plaited hair splayed out behind you as you rocked your body back and forth. For a second it seemed as if you'd manage it, but just at that thought, your foot began to slip. Arthur was at your back within an instant, his left hand flying out to grip your own around the pole whilst his other caught your waist.
"Shit!" You yelped as you felt the silt shift, slipping backwards. Arthur's feet gave in from underneath, splaying outwards as he collapsed onto his back. You had also fallen, Arthur now underneath you. A sprinkle of stream water cascaded above you, twinkling in the light before scattering onto your face. Your eyes snapped shut to avoid the liquid, but you were stunned as a much heavier and solid object smacked you directly in the nose.
You let out a shocked squeal which rapidly erupted into pained laughter, your hand coming to your nose.
"Jesus Y/n are you okay?!" Arthur had you in his arms, shuffling into a sitting position with you in his lap to take a proper look at your face.
"The hell was that?!" As you sat, you felt a sudden rush of warm liquid trickling down your philtrum. Arthur was quick to place a cloth from his satchel under your nose, gently dabbing as he sighed, "Well, as we fell we pulled that fish out." His eyes turned to face the flailing creature flopping around on the grass. You too, took a quick look, "Please tell me that's the fish..."
"Looks like the one." Arthur let out a snort of laughter as you groaned an amused, "A 'legendary' Brook trout for a bleedin' nose. Wonderful."
Removing the cloth, Arthur gave you a check over, gently pressing the bridge of your nose with squinted eyes. You winced, but it wasn't much too painful. He wiggled his fingers against it softly, and still it wasn't enough to bring tears to your eyes. Arthur relaxed, "It ain't broken, luckily."
After that rather eventful fishing trip you both went back to camp. The day was escaping you and evening was bordering the horizon. You had stored the fish to the best of your ability, hopeful that it would keep until Arthur made it to the closest station to mail the thing off. Now you both sat huddled at the campfire, enjoying the meat from the doe earlier that day.
Arthur bit down onto the chunk hungrily, glancing over at you and then to your lower face, "How's your nose?"
"A little sore, nothing I can't handle though. I've had worse," your finger flicked up to point at the scar that ran ridged and vertical down your right eye. You'd been lucky not to have been blinded that day when Colm O'driscoll 'branded' you and your twin brother.
Arthur rose his head upwards slightly in agreement, taking another bite as he gazed at you curiously, "What you plannin' on doing when we get back, then? O'driscolls aren't much of a problem anymore. Now it's just those Lemoyne Raiders."
Your days in the Heartlands had been met with O'driscoll hostility. They had it out for you as much as they had taken issue with the Van Der Linde gang, something you and Arthur had a common familiarity over. It had been the reason you both began to frequent with eachother, drawing out O'driscolls and foiling their plans left right and centre to protect the gang and your small posse. Once Arthur and the gang fled from the state of New Hanover after the Valentine Massacre, you knew you had no choice but to move further East also for aiding in their escape from the butchered town. You recalled the look on Arthur's face as you demanded he run and not look back, to get himself and his gang out of the Heartlands whilst you remained, creating a human shield, guns blazing alongside your fellow posse members. You had survived and totalled no fatalities, but now you had new contenders to deal with; Lemoyne Raiders.
Confederate veterans and disenfranchised young men with extremely outdated views and racist by nature, the Raiders were an awfully irritating and defiant splinter in your back. Your posse and the Van Der Linde gang were comprised of men and woman from all different walks of life, certainly not the lifestyles that the Raiders appreciated.
"They're certainly annoying little arseholes, that's for sure." As you thought back to the dry state of Lemoyne, you shuddered. It wasn't your most favourite place to be. It was hot and barren with only a select amount of game to hunt. The drought had pushed most of it's animal inhabitants East and West, making it all the more difficult to feed yourselves. The creek served as a lifeline for fish, but even that wasn't an infinite reserve. Lemoyne Raiders made life among the orange tracks near-unbearable, "Guess when I get back I'll be teaching the sons of a bitches a few lessons."
"I'll come help. They're causing some problems for Dutch, too." Arthur finished up his meal, gazing out into the open glade with a relaxed sigh, watching as the sun began to dip below the horizon once more.
"It would be pretty damn boring without you there with me, so sure. I'd love the company." You shot the man an innocent smile. Arthur had turned to you once more and froze. That smile... why did it have him frozen like a petrified animal?
You hadn't noticed however, finishing your meal, cleaning your blade and eventually standing to stretch. Arthur continued to watch, his eyes trasing the various features of your body. As you began to saunter over towards the tent, gazing back to beckon him with you, he gulped; "I'll be with ya in a second, just gonna tend to Pandora real quick."
You bowed your head and settled into the bedroll, "If I'm asleep don't worry about shoving me over for some room."
Arthur however hadn't tended to Pandora. He sat watching the moon rise and the stars shine brightly. His mind had been caught in a web. A web of, well... you. It was driving him silently mad. Something had changed over the course of your trip together, a change that set down the foundations of a sudden realisation. The way Arthur had been with you was vastly different to anyone else, even previous suiters like Mary Linton. He even recalled how open and vulnerable he could be with you, how he hardly flinched at the physical affection you gave him, the way you openly embraced him when you were excited or stunned... he began to crave that attention from you. He worried for you every time you had left to return to your camp, he had panicked whenever you were on the precipice of death, charged in to save you whenever you had needed it. He enjoyed your company, the way your sweet smile gave him a warmth within his stomach nobody else could give. He admired your confidence, but also your ability to let loose and be soft and innocent around him. You let your front down every time you two had been alone, a complete show of trust.
Arthur let out a confused sigh, stretching outward to relieve his muscles before making his way into the tent, gazing down at you with a forming smile.
Arthur had slept against you once again that night, only this time he had shifted you over and slept so that your face was buried against his chest, his chin resting against the top of your head. He had even woke before you, prepping two cups of hot coffee.
"G'morning," His rustic low voice bellowed the sleep from your eyes as the struggled out into the sunlight, rubbing the tiredness from your muscles as you set yourself down to sit next to Arthur. Your hand gingerly took the mug from his hand, "Thank you," and you began to sip tiny mouthfuls, "I am not looking forward to the trip back..."
Arthur gave you a sympathetic gaze and smile, resting his hang against your shoulder, "I know, me too. We'll head down to Strawberry, get that pelt sold and have a quick bath." Arthur drew his hand back and pulled himself upwards, "Then we'll take the route past Flatneck Station near Flat Iron Lake so we ain't near Valentine. I'd imagine they're still pretty pissed off..." As he spoke he made his way over to the horses, giving them a little check over to ensure they were ready for the journey ahead. You smiled, appreciating the kindness Arthur gave to his steed and your own, "Concidering we wiped out probably half the population of the town, yeah, they're most likely still pissed off," a small laugh escaped your throat as you began to kick dust and dirt over the dying fire, "If we start leaving now we'll probably be back I'm Lemoyne by late afternoon."
With the camp now fully disembodied and lacking any trace, you saddled up. The remaining meats were stored into your saddlebags alongside some supplies whilst Arthur stowed the in tact fish to Pandora's rump. Soon, you were both on the trail once more, leaving Big Valley behind. You gazed back as the slope began to drop, waving at the vast glade of purple flowers as they vanished over the horizon. It had taken about an hour to make it to Strawberry. It was an easy and calm trip with no disturbances from human or snow. The perfect pelt had earned you a nice sum of twenty five bucks, and you quickly made haste to the hotel. Arthur had insisted you bathe first, explaining how he was going to send the fish off and take a look around. You knew Arthur by now, though. He knew Strawberry, he didn't need to look around. He was up to something, and you couldn't stop him. So, you paid for your bath, slipping an extra twenty five cents so that Arthur's bath was paid for after your own. It had even reinvigorating to wash all of that stream silt from your body, and the hot water soothed the niggling pain your nose still complained about.
After a short while you came out of your bath, content and happy. Arthur had been sat in the hallway, greeting you with a tip of his hat and nudge before hurrying off into the bathroom. He hadn't even waited for the staff to fill his own bath up before he went in and locked the door behind him. How odd... what was he so nervous about? That's when your eyes met the surface of the table. A bedroll and tent kit lie upon the wood, a small note written and placed onto the fabric. It read;
'Sorry I couldn't find your old stuff. Whoever took it was long gone some days prior. The Strawberry stables had some pretty nice bedrolls and tents, so I got you a new set. Can't go gallivantin' around the states without shelter, can you? A x.'
A bashful smile crossed your face as you read the letter, a hand trailing across the expensive feeling fabric of the new equipment. Then, you focused heavily on the ending of that note; a small 'x' had been left, almost like a kiss. Your heart lurched at the thought, but you pushed it away, assuming that was just how Arthur Morgan adresses his name in letters.
Arthur eventually finished with his bath and came to meet you outside. You were busy fitting the equipment to Starstreak's saddle when you realised his presence: "Y'didn't have to do this, y'know?"
"I wanted to. Now come on, got a lot of ground to cover and only as much sunlight."
Arthur smiled in return and then lept onto Pandora, spurring her forward.
You had eventually made it back to Lemoyne, and at the right time too: late afternoon. You both paused at the bend in the road upon the hill of Scarlet Meadows.
"Enjoy yourself?" Your hand drew across the dusty pelt of Starstreak, pulling out your horse brush. Arthur smiled, bowing his head as he did the same, offering a carrot to Pandora, "It was lovely darlin', thank you."
Your jaws parted to respond but you were suddenly cut off by thundering hooves. Arthur's face shot up suddenly, a hand twitching over his holster.
"Art'ur Morgan! Where'd you get off ta?" It was Sean, followed by Tilly, Mary-Beth and Javier. When Sean got a proper look at you, he parted his jaws in an 'Ahh' of understanding.
You knew Sean well, in fact you'd known him far before Arthur. Back when you spent your days around West Elizabeth you often spent time with the Irishman, doing odd jobs here and there and getting drunk when spirits were high. You often found yourself in awe of his stories of the gang, and now you may as well have been fully involved. You gave Sean a little wave, "Gettin' into trouble there, Macguire?"
"Aye, I don't get inta trouble Y/n, I am ta trouble! Anyhow, what's with you and Morgan ere? Go anywhere nice?" The ginger man gave Arthur a devious smirk with a risen brow, a gaggle of laughter escaping his throat. Javier rolled his eyes and stood a little ways ahead, "Good to see you Arthur."
"Where you lot off to?" Arthur decided to ignore Sean and tip his hat to Javier.
"There's a stagecoach coming up through the border of New Hanover, apparently there's a really important woman on board who should have riches beyond belief - at least, that's how Trelawny puts it." Javier gave Arthur an awkward shrug, to which Arthur responded with a monotone, "Y'sure robbin' a stagecoach in New Hanover is a good idea considering what happened in Valentine?"
Sean was quick to pipe up as Javier attempted to reply, "It's on the border of Lemoyne! Far out from that shithole! An' besides, we got the girls as a distraction."
"Okay, what sort of distraction?" Arthur's voice was curiously concerned. Sean usually made the strangest of plans to say the least, you of all people knew that to be true.
"I'm gonna 'faint'," Mary-Beth rose her hands to emphasise quotation marks by bending her fingers as she spoke, "and Tilly is gonna call for help beside me. Then, Sean's gonna pick the lock whilst Javier guards us from cover."
The plan didn't sound half bad. Mary-Beth and Tilly were only around Valentine a handful of times, so their presence wouldn't be best known. Sean was pretty skilled at picking locks, too.
For a second Arthur seemingly contemplated, brushing a hand against his chin. You caught the girls expressions darken, with Tilly snapping back a, "Come on Arthur we are perfectly capable of it!"
"And we can defend ourselves!" Mary-Beth spoke next, pouting as she crossed her arms, a brow raised with irritation.
"I ain't saying you aren't, it's just the risk with it bein' in New Hanover. If you're confident though, go for it. If... you let me come along." Arthur's offer of tagging along seemed to bother Sean who groaned, rolling his eyes, "We don't need babyin', Art'ur... but fine. Come along, if you must. You're staying with Javier though."
Javier didn't seem bothered, he simply smiled and nodded in agreement before taking a quick look at you, "This is the Van Der Linde gang's business though, can't have you tagging along I'm afraid. Dutch's orders for anyone really."
You understood, giving Javier a kind hand gesture to pause him as he spoke, "No, no. I get it. I need to get back to my lot anyway. I won't say a word," You gave the man a wink, then settled your sights on Arthur who seemed less than pleased for your imitate departure, "I'll see you soon?"
"Sure, sounds good. Few days?" Arthur had intended on hiding that smile that laced his face, but to no avail. It was a bright smile, one that Javier and Mary-Beth had caught whilst Tilly and Sean spurred their horses onwards.
You signaled a wave of goodbye as you turned your own stalion towards the direction of your own camp, "Midday, Friday. Down at Mattock Pond." You then turned to head off, briefly catching Mary-Beth's seemingly soured expression after you gave Arthur a soft smile and a gentle 'goodbye.' Strange, you'd never met Mary-Beth before. She seemed and looked like a sweet girl, but the daggers she had been giving you as you strode away burnt into your back.
Arthur watched you go, a frown forming upon his face. It was as if all of the warmth and glow of the world went with you, leaving Arthur breathless and choking on sorrow. The look upon his withered expression said it all; it was painfully obvious, and Javier gave Arthur a delicate nudge whilst Mary-Beth's expression darkened, a crooked frown forming as she began to gallop forward.
"So, whose the girl amigo?" Javier came to Arthur's side as he began to advance, some distance behind Sean and the girls. Arthur shook his head, taking in a sudden breath as if he had been stunned awake. He then cleared his throat, attempting to regain his burly composure, "Jus' some woman. Saved her from the O'driscolls when she and Sean were captured last Summer. She's been helpin' with messin' Colm's scores."
Javier's eyes were stuck onto Arthur, watching as the brute of a man seemingly went through a multitude of different emotions before he straightened himself out and rode onward, fixing his hat and bandana around his neck.
Javier pushed his mount onwards to match Pandora's pace, "You know what I think?"
Arthur narrowed his eyes, squinting, "I think you won't understand."
"Creo que estás enamorado," Javier was quick to respond before spurring his mount onwards, leaving Arthur in the dust. The Outlaw picked up his voice in a shout, "What's that s'posed to mean?!" To which Javier yelled back, "You won't understand!"
There was a hue of amusement and excitement in Javier's voice as he thundered onward. Arthur kept his usual pace, sighing as he shook his head before turning his attention towards his back. Far into the distance he could see the tiny silhouette of yourself, dust trailing behind your stalion's hoofsteps. A small smile formed upon Arthur's lips, but quickly dropped into a frown as you disappeared below the horizon. Arthur felt an emptiness he'd never experienced before, a numb feeling as if life itself was draining from him with every step you took away from the Cowboy.
Realisation suddenly hit him far heavier and faster than that of a steam train. Arthur had finally realised it; he was falling in love with you, and it terrified him, and yet, it felt so right.
_ _ _
Thank you all for reading! I may make this a few part series with the development and eventual romantic relationship between Arthur and the reader. It really just depends on my enthusiasm for writing, it is just a hobby afterall and I write during spur of the moments, so it is few and far between. Thank you though for taking the time to read, I don't concider myself a great writer but it is super fun so that's all that matters!
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