#side note i love dutch's hat

[lonely-cowboy]

one and only ↠ arthur morgan masterlist. main masterlist.

pairing: arthur morgan x f!reader summary: although you left weeks ago, arthur still feels guilty for all he did (and didn't) do to you. he just can't seem to get you out of his damn head. word count: 3.7k warnings: none really? just sad arthur

author's note: AHAHAHA i'm finally back, and i present to you my first arthur morgan fic!! for more info on this request and a lil update on my comings and goings, look here <3

On a typical night, going to the saloon would’ve been a treat for Arthur. When he was able to spend a night out – some nights with the gang, other nights just with you– it meant he was safe. He didn’t have to worry about Pinkertons on his tail or whatever trivial chores Ms. Grimshaw had in store for him the next day. On a typical night, Arthur would’ve enjoyed the saloon.

But tonight was far from typical.

Arthur found himself huddled in a corner with a whiskey in hand, mindlessly fidgeting with the splintered wood of his lonesome table. Though his hat was tipped low to ward off any friendly patrons, Arthur’s eyes were focused on the bright moon outside. Its pale light filtered through the dusty window, casting shadows across Arthur’s rough features. 

Tonight, Arthur was not treating himself. He didn’t deserve such a thing after all the Godawful things he said to you. No, tonight, Arthur would punish himself. He would drink and drink and drink until he was so overwhelmed with misery that the only way to cope was with a good, hard fight. He’d find the biggest, sturdiest patron he could, sauntering over so audaciously that any right-minded man would already be angry with him. And without a word, Arthur would punch that man square in the face, waiting readily for a retaliating punch. After that, he’d let his hands drop to his sides, leaving him defenseless as he took punch after punch in punishment.

Tomorrow was sure to be one hell of a morning.

With a soft grunt, Arthur turned his gaze away from the moon. He didn’t deserve to look on something so pure, something with beauty only contested by yours.

Instead, he turned his attention to the crowd of rowdy drunkards and dancing fools, eyeing them for his victim. 

Lord, he deserved to be hit. Punched, kicked, bitch-slapped.

And still, none of it would be punishment enough for all he did to you.

Arthur cursed at the memory of that night only a few weeks ago, the night you finally left him. He didn’t blame you for leaving– oh, no, he could never blame you. You had every right to leave. Truth be told, he was surprised you stuck around as long as you did. 

But that night… he could never be angry at you for that. Not when you were oh-so-sweet, looking up at him with those big, helpless eyes and praising him with love he surely didn’t deserve. You were nothing but good to him as you confessed your fears of Dutch and where his needless obsessions would lead Arthur. You begged him to run away with you, leave the gang behind and quit risking his life every damn day. You were so desperate for him to leave, tears welling in your eyes as you clutched the front of his shirt… nuzzling your nose against his… peppering kisses along his lips and cheeks…

And what did he do?

Told you it was a nice dream, of course. Sure, he had his fair share of fantasies, mostly that involved a quiet life with you. But that was all it was to Arthur, a fantasy. He could never actually leave the gang. No, he could never. Surely you knew that, didn’t you? You knew Arthur well enough to know he’d never leave these good people behind. ‘course, you couldn’t understand, could you? You’d been with the gang barely even a year, you couldn’t understand the love he held for these people. These people who weren’t just his gang but his family. How could you ask him to leave his family?

And that’s when Arthur knew you were gone for good. The way you had stared at him then, pulling away from him as if he had just stabbed you in the heart– in a way, he had. The tears still trickled down your cheeks in steady streams, but your desperation was quick to turn to hurt, to anger. 

“Thought maybe I was your family,” you mumbled then. “I see I was mistaken.”

What a goddamn fool he was to watch you leave. Not a word of protest left his lips as you leaped onto your horse and galloped off into the night, so easily abandoning the life you had built there, your life with him. 

The first few days, Arthur was sure you’d return at any minute. He dodged Dutch’s requests to join in on whatever senseless plans he had, sending Charles or Javier in his stead and instead disturbing Ms. Grimshaw with questions of “Anything else I can do for ya?” Whatever it took to keep him busy and in camp, awaiting your return. 

Every minute of every day, his eyes were glued to the treeline, ears perked and waiting for the sound of horse hooves. One evening, Arthur had been fetching water from the lake when he heard the thundering of hooves, some surprised voices. Immediately, he abandoned the bucket, tossing it carelessly to the ground before sprinting back to camp. 

You were back! You had to be back, it had to be you.

Quickly was he proven wrong. It was only Charles, a large buck strapped to the back of his horse.The excitement hadn’t been in celebration of your return, no, only in glee that at least one of the men was finally doing his part around camp.

My, that’ll keep us fed for days!

Finally, someone’s puttin’ in the work…

Arthur turned away with a frustrated grumble. Where the hell were you? 

He made his way back to the shoreline to retrieve the forgotten bucket, though not without noticing the snickers and jeers from Bill and Micah. Arthur had made no effort to hide his desperation to find you; the two of them had seen him drop his bucket and rush to camp clear as day. 

Not that Arthur cared. So what if they laughed at him? He wasn’t ashamed for loving you the way he did. 

Eventually, Arthur could no longer keep himself busy with chores. Dutch oh-so-terribly “needed” him for this job, some train robbery that would take him far outside of camp. Reluctant as he was, the work kept him distracted for the week. 

Except at nights when he lay on his bedroll– listening to Sean’s snoring and John’s sleep talking– wishing you were there beside him. He’d lay with his arm slung around your shoulders, pulling you close as you rested your head against his chest. He would trace patterns along your soft skin as you rambled about an argument you had with a local seller over the price of peaches or the old letter you and Tilly had found from Uncle’s second wife. Arthur would watch you intently as you spoke, burying his nose into your hair while he pressed delicate kisses to the top of your head.

But then the job was done, and Arthur was back at camp thinking of you every second of the day, no longer just at night.

By then, Arthur began to doubt your return. He worried about never seeing you again, loathing himself for all the terrible things he said and wondering if those would be the last words he ever said to you. Arthur was never much of a religious man, but he prayed to God that wouldn’t be the case.

For a few days after that successful robbery, Arthur tried to keep a steady head. He tried to go about his business as usual, which only proved impossible when he was so distracted by you. So in a final attempt to put himself at ease, Arthur took a few days away from camp to just… spend some time on his lonesome. He occupied himself with hunting, fishing, riding, the usual. 

But mostly, he remained huddled in his tent with his journal in his lap. He focused on drawing but found that he could only draw you. He couldn’t help it. For Christ’s sake, he couldn’t even draw his damn horse who was standing right in front of him! When his attempts at drawing failed, he tried to write which proved equally as miserable. 

With nowhere to go and nothing to ease his worries, Arthur decided he needed to be punished for what he did. Maybe then you’d come back to him. And if you didn’t… maybe it would at least help him to not feel so guilty. He doubted it.

That brought him to the nearest saloon. And there he sat, scanning its patrons for someone strong enough to give him a good beating.

But his eyes were drawn instead to a young couple tucked away in a far-off corner, holding each other tightly as they swayed to the hum of music. Arthur watched as they clung to each other, away from the noise of the saloon and huddled away in their own little world. The moonlight fell beautifully upon the pair, revealing bright teeth that smiled lovingly and crinkled eyes as they shared a quiet laugh. Their love was radiating so purely off of them, making it as though they were the only two people in the world, the only ones they would ever need.

For a moment, Arthur thought he saw you. He could picture you sitting across from him now, the image so vivid with the way you would lean your elbows on the table just to be closer to him. You would watch him silently, though he could see hundreds of thoughts behind your eyes. And somehow, Arthur would know that one of those hundred thoughts was a desire to dance. So without another word, he would stand and offer his hand to you, the corners of his lips quirking into a smile as you beamed up at him and took his hand in yours. He’d pull you flush against his chest, one hand holding yours while the other found its place on your hip. You’d knock his hat back affectionately, complaining how you couldn’t see his pretty eyes. Arthur would laugh quietly, making some remark on how they weren’t that pretty, a claim you’d be quick to refute. 

But no, that couldn’t happen because now you were gone. His beautiful girl, the kindest soul had had ever known… The one so perfectly crafted to him he couldn’t even begin to imagine a life without you. Even now, when you were nothing but dust in the wind, Arthur couldn’t imagine his life without you. 

What an idiot, what a fucking idiot. 

Only he could be so foolish as to give up something as perfect as you. Goddamnit, he should’ve run away with you. He should’ve taken your hand and run. Run far, far away and never once look back. Sure, he loved the gang, but his affection for them could never outweigh what he felt for you. He knew then that he could never be as happy as he was when you were in his life.

“You fool…,” Arthur growled as he pushed away from the table and marched outside.

This late at night, the small town roads should have been empty but they were teeming with handfuls of people, workers scurrying to get home and families enjoying a cool evening walk. Arthur watched them from the saloon’s porch, leaning against one of its beams as he lit a cigarette. It was hopeless to think it would take the edge off. 

He released a billow of smoke from the side of his mouth as he glanced up at the moon. He could only hope that somewhere– wherever you were– you were looking up at it too, sharing this last peaceful moment with him.

“Thought that was you in there.”

Great. Now he was imagining your voice, the calming sound bouncing around his skull in a dull echo. Perhaps this was punishment enough, yearning for you in this way.

“I know you heard me.”

Arthur couldn’t help but be drawn to the sound of your voice, his eyes searching for its source despite knowing you wouldn’t be there.

Only… you were there. Standing in the road with your arms crossed protectively over your chest, there you were.

Jesus, he was hallucinating now? 

Arthur must have looked absolutely dumbfounded at the sight of you, your lips shaping into a small smirk. 

“I’m real, I promise.”

Arthur’s chest blossomed with warmth, heat creeping up his neck in a bashful blush. How was it possible you knew him so well that you could immediately tell– just from a look– he thought he was hallucinating?

Arthur watched intently as you moved to toe the dirt road, your nervous tension clear in the set of your shoulders and pursed lips. He put out his cigarette quickly out of respect for you, his eyes locked on you even as he tossed it to the ground. He wanted to move closer to run his calloused hands along the skin of your arms or even just to feel the warmth of your proximity. But he remained glued to the porch, his boots suddenly too heavy for him to lift his feet.

A long silence passed as Arthur stared longingly at you, your attention focused on a particularly fascinating pebble that you nudged idly. Arthur wished you would just look at him, but he knew he didn’t deserve to lose himself in the comfort of your eyes.

The silence finally ended when you kicked your pebble too far, just out of reach. With your only source of entertainment gone, you looked up at Arthur. He could see the way your shoulders sagged, though from exhaustion or disappointment he couldn’t tell.

The look on your face was expectant, waiting. He supposed you wanted him to say something. It was only fair. He was yet to say a single word, and with the way he just let you walk away all those nights ago… He owed it to you.

“What’re you doin’ out so late?” Arthur rasped. “It ain’t safe for ya.”

“You know I can handle my own just fine.”

“I know.”

And that was the truth. Arthur did know how well you could handle yourself, feisty as you were. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t do everything in his power to keep you safe. You didn’t need him, but he would always be there if ever you did.

Assuming, of course, you would have him around.

A garbled noise left Arthur’s lip as he struggled to find his words. It was so difficult when you looked at him like that, your brows pinched together with confusion. You didn’t look at him coldly as you should have, only with concern.

“You’re, uh… you’re still around,” he said.

You idiot, ‘course she’s still around, she’s standing right in front of ya!

“Sure am.”

You moved to the side as a pair of young men squeezed passed you to get into the saloon. It was then that Arthur noticed how exposed the two of you were. Being just off the main road and standing so far apart– your voices echoing into the night– he was sure everyone in town could hear your conversation. 

Pushing off the porch beam, Arthur took a step back and gestured to a set of wooden chairs shoved up against the saloon wall.

“Why don’t ya come take a seat, sweet–?”

Arthur cleared his throat, hoping it was enough to hide the way he so desperately longed to call you sweetheart. But you had heard. He saw it in your knowing smile as you trudged up the porch steps, taking Arthur up on his offer and sitting down gracefully. Cautiously, Arthur took the seat beside you.

From the way you were sitting– with your legs crossed tightly and your hands gripping your knee anxiously– Arthur could tell you wanted to say something. He dared not speak, fearing that if he did you might never speak to him again.

“It was harder to leave than I thought,” you admitted suddenly, your words coming out in one quick breath. Another pause. “Guess I understand why you couldn’t leave the gang…”

Arthur sucked in a breath as he scratched his chin nervously. “Darlin’, I shouldn’t ‘ave–”

“No, no, don’t worry about it. I get it.”

For a terrible second, Arthur considered ending it at that, choosing to be silent. Again. 

No, he couldn’t do that to you, not again. You deserved better than that.

“No, it ain’t right. I did wrong by you. I shoulda been better.”

There was a flicker of hope in your eyes, mixed with the lingering pain. 

Arthur released a steady exhale as he took a moment to consider his words. Why was it so difficult to talk to you? You had only ever given him a safe, comfortable space to talk, to be vulnerable. Why was he struggling so damn bad now?

“Tell me what’s on your mind, cowboy,” you murmured, the same way you always did when his long silences persisted. “Why’re you havin’ a hard time?”

Arthur couldn’t help but chuckle at that. He deserved to be yelled at, he deserved your anger. But here you were, patient as ever, speaking in the kindest of tones. Lord, he didn’t deserve you.

“I guess… I dunno. I don’t wanna mess this up. I’m scared, darlin’… So goddamn scared.”

“Of what?”

“Losing you.”

There it was, plain and simple: he didn’t want to lose you, ever. 

He could barely survive a few weeks without you, how on earth would he survive his whole lifetime? However long it was.

“I don’t wanna lose you,” Arthur repeated in a whisper, turning away from you timidly. “I can’t.”

He let his hat hang low over his eyes, hiding from your intense gaze. Only seconds later did he see you out of the corner of his eye, peeking forward to meet his eyes under the brim of his hat. Carefully– as if trying not to spook a startled horse– you reached up and tipped his hat back.

“Can’t see those pretty eyes.”

Arthur risked a glance at you. You offered him a loving smile. 

In that moment, he let himself hope, hope that his worst fear might not come true after all.

“No need for all that, they ain’t–”

“Oh, hush now. They’re real pretty.”

“Ain’t nothin’ special…”

“They’re special to me. Ya know why?”

Arthur hummed in encouragement, his brows furrowing. He couldn’t believe there was anything that special about his eyes.

“’cause whenever I look in them, all I see is love.”

And when Arthur looked at you then, he looked at you with just that.

“Well… it’s ‘cause I love you.”

It didn’t matter if you left him, it didn’t matter if this was the last time he ever saw you. It wouldn’t change how he felt, would never, ever change the way his heart swelled with so much love at the mere thought of you that he didn’t even know how to handle it. He’d love you if you left, he’d love you if you stayed. He’d love you with every breath, even his last. And even then, when he was long gone, he’d still love you.

Arthur waited for you to speak, the anticipation clawing at his throat. He swallowed hard to avoid choking on his own words, but the longer you said nothing, the more he feared it would be of no use.

“I can’t afford to lose a love like that,” you whispered sincerely. 

Maybe you didn’t say it, but Arthur could see it in your eyes. The same love in his eyes was reflected in your own.

“Talk about my eyes all ya like… they sure ain’t as pretty as yours.”

Your smile widened, a visible warmth spreading throughout your cheeks.

Arthur shoved his worry aside as he stood from his chair, offering his hand to you. You didn’t take it immediately, staring at his scarred skin silently. Arthur was hit by a wave of insecurity; he was almost tempted to pull his hand away with a quick apology. But before he could, your soft hand slid into his, and you let him pull you to your feet.

Christ, how had he ever gone this long without your warm touch? Already, his heart was pounding faster. And you were only holding his hand! He was sure he might implode the second he pulled your body against his.

Thankfully, he didn’t.

You took a step closer to Arthur, your chest nearly flush against his. Your hand remained entwined with his, your other coming to rest on his shoulder. With some hesitance, Arthur snaked his hand beneath your shirt and placed it on your hip, pulling you ever slightly closer. His finger brushed against your skin, reveling in your warmth.  

Inside the saloon, music continued to play. Faint as it was out on the porch, that didn’t stop the two of you from swaying to the gentle rhythm. You then began to hum softly, so softly that Arthur could barely hear that sweet voice of yours. He leaned closer to hear you, his cheek coming to rest atop your head in a way that felt all too natural. He worried then that you might pull away, but you did quite the opposite.

You rested your head against Arthur’s chest, snuggling closer to his warm skin and giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. Your humming slowly died down as you focused on the racing beat of his heart. This was a different kind of music to your ears. 

With your humming gone, Arthur took it upon himself to keep it up. He mumbled along the words to the muffled tune, pressing kisses to the top of your head between every breath. Together, you stayed wrapped in each other's arms. Every now and then, Arthur added a flourish that had you grinning like a little girl, his strong arms twirling you around and around. 

As he pulled you back to him, you stopped short to admire his rugged features. A smile tugged at your lips, one that Arthur wanted to kiss right off.

Instead, he met your unyielding gaze, mirroring your loving look.

“I ain’t losin’ you again,” he muttered.

He spoke it as a promise, a promise that he would never let you go again. Because if he did… he could never live with himself. No, you were the only thing that mattered, the only thing worth keeping around. He would never lose you again, his one and only.

[zarkishere]

RDR2 RELATIONSHIP CHART!

free to use, just credit me if you do :) (also tag me if you use it for rdr2 oc's i'd love that hehe)

Young Jack ver ⤴️

Old Jack ver ⤵️

notes cuz i love overthinking shit :

EVERYONE except Micah, Sadie and Kieran have both little hair thingies

for Micah it's cuz....yknow. he's not really part. he's the rat. doesn't even have one of the two.

For Sadie and Kieran they have 1 since they are part of the gang, they just happened to join later

I changed some people's design a little bit but it's minor changes that don't mean much just me fixing up stuff

Molly and Grimshaw's eye-makeup-thingies are the same (cuz yknow. Dutch.) Molly's hair doesn't naturally do the Little Hair Thing, she has to do it every morning, hence why it's...oddly curly (this time not because she's not part of the gang, but because she feels the need to have it. maybe Dutch will love her if she does. if she's like the rest.)

I decided to make older Jack have a few things from other characters who are theorized to be his dad (lol. i don't believe those theories just for the record, i think Jack is John's kid, i just like stirring the pot HJKASJKHASGASG)

Jenny is like that cuz we never see her apart from a drawing, so i thought i should make her all sketchy and silly

Mac is. a fucking square. we never see that mf.

Karen has 3 freckles instead of 3 cuz she's quirky and not like the other girls (no but fr)

i tried to keep it right side people who would agree most with Dutch after Dutch...? if that makes sense? so yknow Micah is first, then Bill, etc. from the left side is the people who agreed the most with Arthur/John...so Hosea, Charles, lenny, etc.

Arthur facing John, Hosea facing Dutch, Charles facing Micah is on purpose teehee (Kieran is also kinda facing Mary-Beth but you can call bullshit and i'll accept it)

Jack is the only boyo between the women cuz he stands with his momma

i thought Arthur and John's hat bonking was p funny

idk what else to say, i've probably forgoren a lot but idc so...

these designs are 100% not perfect but i am p satisfied with most overall, lemme know what you think!

also....

i don't have any fucking clue why person's eyes are the only ones like that please someone fix him whats wrong with him help get him eye contacts or something PLEASE--

[bebebelll]

does anyone know her dad? | dn3 x reader (part 3)

paring: daniel ricciardo x toto's daughter!reader, daniel ricciardo x wolff & shcumacher!reader warning: nothing (google translated german because i studied that language for 2 years and dont know a single word anymore) notes: part 1, part 2 and part 4 are recommended reading

ynquads god i love what the us grand prixs do to this man. there's something in the air and the cowboy hats are hot. i truly feel really blessed to have met you, to spend my life with you, to have been by your side and to have had you by mine. i just really love you ❤️❤️❤️

liked by danielricciardo, susie_wolff and 1 184 537 others

username haha jumping off a building now bye

danielricciardo you really love me ❤️

ynquads i really really love you danielricciardo really really really? ynquads really really really really danielricciardo wanna sneak out and go makeout? ynquads YEAH alex_albon no please dont we're on the same plane the restroom is small the walls are thin

maxverstappen1 gross

username sobbing screaming throwing up (fuck i am jealous)

danielricciardo i am so obsessed with you baby

ynquads i fucking adore you

f1wagsupdate as we all know that the figure skater and danny ric's girlfriend yn shcumacher is the child of toto wolff and michael shcumacher's sister, we decided to go on a deep dive. these are really the only photos we could find from facebook. we could only find this one photo of katarina shcumacher and not a single one her and toto together. but isn't toto just adorable with baby yn? and enjoy baby yn and max verstappen looking super cool!

liked by 46 956

username MAX VERSTAPPEN

username how is mick not using that last photo every year on their birthdays like i would print a pic like that of my siblings and put them up around school hallways and on the fridge

ynquads do not worry, auntie sophie and vic show that photo around every christmas

username ooh its too bad theres no photos of them together

username same bro i cant stop imagining some summer love ynquads they met a bar in berlin and got so fucking drunk that its a miracle they didn't get alcohol poisoning. i am so truly so really serious when i say that i'd be surprised if they even exchanged names before i was already cooking in my mom's stomach username what the fuck you saying ynquads i've seen an old homevideo about the morning after. i talk about it in therapy every week

username i love how yn is just lurking around every post about her and her parents

yt video: YN SHCUMACHER ATTENDS COTA - BRUNDLE GRIDWALK

comments:

username love the passive aggressive attitude to every camera she saw

username truly a lovely experience. yn kissed daniel before the race. she kissed max's cheek when he won and said something scandalous in german/dutch based on everyone's faces. i also saw a video of her laughing on the ground when lewis dsq was announced

username WHAT THE FUCK ARE THEY SAYING IS THAT GERMAN

username yn: they are filming you, dad. you are very popular. toto: dont give them too much attention. you had a long flight. you just go and take a nap before the race. brundle and toto talk yn: well see how intact our relationship is after the race username intact 😂😂 lord that really is torger's kid

danielricciardo this woman is the single reason ive survived some darker times. she's so beautiful, lovely and sweet. elegant on and off the ice ❤️❤️the day i do not gush and drool about her is the day i'm dead. so in love

liked by ynquads and 2 487 577 others

username why am i crying

username cant come to the phone right now busy driving through concrete walls and off a cliff

ynquads i am THE luckiest girl ❤️❤️❤️

danielricciardo if youre lucky then ive been blessed by god ynquads dont you dare i win this danielricciardo youre not the one who was just on their knees i win ynquads come here and ill wrestle you danielricciardo only if you kiss the booboos better after

username am i the only one getting real suspicious about these "i love you much" post that they've been putting out for the entire month??? like what you doing all this for

username EXACTLY username they've been together for like four or five years too sooooo you know what people do around that timestamp 🤭🤭🤭

username just what the hell is that comment about being on their knees daniel

ynquads instagram story

danielricciardo funny thing about vegas

liked by ynquads, lewishamilton, maxverstappen1 and 3 483 573 others

username BITCH WHAT

susie_wolff if you got married in a las vegas chappel, you are grounded till your 80th birthday yn - toto wolff

ynquads i didn't actually expect to love being engage this much

danielricciardo whats got you excited about this then? ynquads the fact that im gonna get to marry YOU maxverstappen1 stop being gross maxverstappen1 i already suffered through watching the proposal

username love this i want to snort this i want to inject this into my blood but did you get engaged and then eat junkfood while watching princess diaries 2

ynquads don't tell anyone 🤫 danielricciardo really dont tell anyone that amount of junkfood was not in the diet plan

@topguncultleader @eternalharry

[saintbarou]

tags: height difference, gn reader, nsfw implied

for @ravengards-rogue sorry for always tormenting you my bad fr

john is never been aware of his height until he got into a spat with arthur at age 18 and realizes he was eye level with his older brother - neither dutch or hosea can say they have seen the boy that smug before. his height is something he’s always used to his advantage, whether for intimidation or flirtation. when he first met you he thought it would be another tool for him to gauge you, to see how easily you scare or fluster at his presence.

looking back it makes him laugh, thinking that something so simply would make you cower from him as if the look on your face was nothing but disinterested upon your first meeting.

a pretty face with brows furrowed and your lips drawn back in a disgusted frown - john likes to think that’s when he fell in love with you even if the version of him freezing on the mountainside didn’t know it yet. you stay at camp with one of your own and become a part of the group day by day and chore by chore. he’s even ridden with you on bounties and leads that always seem to go without a hitch when it’s just him and you.

you are beautiful with the backdrop of the dark blue sky behind you, and the golden fire in front of you as you carefully a strand of hair away from your face while watching into the vastness of the wilderness. long hair suits you, he thinks. the way it suits charles - it makes you seem nobler than any other. john leaves old boy’s hitch and comes to your side, noting something he never quite pieced together.

you are decently tall, standing higher than the other women and some men at camp (he snickers at how you are just an inch taller than javier - the revolutionary is always stung by that fact) but still you are shorter than him. you turn to look at him your lips forming words he isn’t listening to because john is too busy being endeared by how you have to tilt your head to look up at him.

it’s a sweet look on you, it lets him see the shine in your eyes and lets him feast upon the soft skin of your neck.

“are you listening to me?” you ask and john grins, slow and leisurely - filled with some sort of sleazy charm that he knows you aren’t immune to.

“can’t say i am, my angel.” you make that face - the pretty little peeved scowl that makes his grin grow as he tips his head a little further back to rack his eyes down you. he’s being smug again, just like the little shit he was when his world was just arthur, dutch and hosea. john can’t help that you bring that side of him despite the year in between you two.

“well you better start marston.” you hiss, face flushed with annoyance and your hand coming to rest on your waist. he barks a laugh, one that sounds like a wolf’s and that makes your tongue click in your mouth.

“i’ll try to - it’s just hard to hear you from down there sweetheart.” his teasing is strengthen by his drawl and he laughs loud and rickety when you curse him.

“go to hell john marston!” you hiss, pushing him at him and huffing in annoyance at how it barely moves him at all and stalking to the fire. john keeps laughing, bringing his thumb and forefinger to pinch the brim of his hat to bring it down. to hide his growing flush and the ache in his cheeks over this little fact.

[makriiii]

Caught XIV (Arthur Morgan × f!reader)

Word count: 4.2k

Authors note: I AM SO SORRY GUYS, I KNOW I KEPT SAYING ID GET IT OUT BUT COLLEGE IS CRAZY

Special thanks to @iceman-kazansky! You're so sweet. I love the reposts, I hope you enjoy this one also! I know it was long awaited :)

Warnings: 18+, mentions of blood, swearing.

♡

Caught XIV

The camp was lit with voices and laughing around you whilst you sat unbothered on a log overlooking the lake you had so admired when you had first laid your eyes upon it.

The day had been one of your nicest yet. The Arthur had not been buzzing around for you only to have to swat away. No, rather it was peaceful.

You weren't being unattentive but the sound of soft footsteps still made you snap your head around to look at the person approaching.

The finest lady in camp. Dutch's favorite girl. The one you had no opinion on yet as most of the time neither of you looked each other's way. The way she appeared made it seem like she strayed away too far from her well to do family, but you couldn't tell if that was true or just what it looked to be.

Her skirt dressed the worn wood kindly as she sat with distance from you. Quite frankly you had not a clue on whether you should say something or leave her to her own but she decided for you.

"You're that other O'Driscoll, aren't you?" She questioned, her green eyes giving you only a second of grace before scanning the horizon of the lake.

It took you a moment, unsure of where she was going with this and distracted by the sudden sight of Arthur, who was making his way toward an idling Dutch on the shore of the lake, not too far from you. "Unfortunately."

Molly's eyes scan you up and down, a familiar look of disparage glinted in her gaze. "You seem close with Arthur." She stated outright rather bluntly.

Shaking off the stare she had given you and comprehending her bold words you replied in short, "I suppose it could look that way."

"I feel like you're trying something." Her irish accent shone through with her clearly disdained words.

It was an accusation not unaccustomed by yourself, and you weren't in the mood for more of it. "I have no power to propagandize that man. He's as stubborn as an ass."

It seemed if it wasn't Arthur, it was someone else. Would the O'Driscoll talk ever end? You felt as though you had proved yourself more than needed.

"Why haven't you and your sly little buddy left yet then?" Her interrogation had you slipping on your hat in preparation of departure.

"We're just looking out for our lives, miss. If it's not the law, then it's our former members." You made sure to emphasize the past tense. O'Driscoll's gang was certainly in the past for you, whether you wanted it or not.

With that, you got up and started walking away. Perhaps you'd take a trip to town, get away from camp for a while.

"I didn't say you could go?" She scolded with a bark of her voice.

Saying more could be bad, saying nothing could also be bad. So you chose silence, you didn't want trouble with Dutch's girl.

As you walked through camp with a stretch of your back, a hand stabbed at your ribs, a sensitive part that reminded you unfortunately, you were ticklish.

You hunched over with a gasp, your arms throwing themselves to your sides to defend from further attack. It was already evident who it was.

Dutch and Arthur strolled by you, Arthur with a slight smirk watching you. Dutch caught on and studied you for a second.

"Why don't you come along to fish, Mrs. O'driscoll? Arthur told me of your struggle last time." He chuckled after Arthur gave him a slight shake of his head, a warning to redact his offer.

Mrs. O'driscoll was a new one for sure. The nicknames seemed to come from a never ending stream of creativity you despised.

Was there any way that you could say no to Dutch? No was never to be said to Colm, and learning from that, you agreed. "Alright, as long as it delights Arthur."

"It does not particularly-" Arthur rumbles before he gets guided forward by an interrupting Dutch.

"Oh, he might jump out of his boots with excitement." He laughs with a pat to Arthur's back. Like father and son. It was cute, admittedly, to see notorious outlaws have such a bond.

Hosea was waiting for the pair, and now for you as he questioned your proximity to them. "She taggin' along as well?"

"She needs to see your flare with fishing, Hosea." Dutch proclaims with a grunt as he pulls himself up in his saddle.

"Alright, let me show you how its done then." With an aloof attitude and a nod, he leads the group out of camp.

The ride you had with the three of the men wasn't heavy with feelings of stress or worry on your part. Dutch spoke of the activities he wanted done down in this town, of the money the gang needed. It felt as though you were finally one of them.

Dutch was sure to tell you all that he wanted everyone to be on the down low. Just to snoop around for now. That was easy enough for you.

It wasn't long after you got close to the tracks that the quiet atmosphere of hooves and voices was filled with the thundering of a train.

"Looks like law up ahead." Dutch chimes, his words directing your eyes to the stopped caged carriage up ahead. "Play it cool."

You and Arthur exchange glances before he made his way from your left to your right. A barrier between you and the law for whatever reason.

"Hello gentlemen." Came a mellifluous voice from the metal bars, grabbing everyone's attention.

"Well!" Came a surprised chortle from Dutch. "Look what the cat drug in."

"Ive seemed to have gotten myself in a spot of bother." You hadn't caught it before but now the smooth accent of a brit plastered his words.

You had not a clue who this man was or how he knew the gang. It was only so long that you would find out however.

"Quiet back there." Grumbled the lawman from upfront, his fist hammering down on the metal to rattle the cage.

Dutch examined this for a moment, "lets see if we cant sort this out."

The small talk that commenced turned into the talk similar of a lawyer. Defending the "silly fancy fop." Clearly, he was important if this was worth the trouble.

The other imprisoned men in the back took Dutch's distraction and started picking at the lock, providing entertainment for you and Arthur who sat there watching.

Dutch didn't get finished before the man had the lock off and the creaky doors opening, the other three men following with no hesitation.

"Shit!" Exclaims the sheriff, his and his partners eyes wide as their captives latched onto the train now departing. "The Anderson boys! I cant have more scandal!"

"Allow us to help, my friend." Dutch offers, his gaze not waiting a moment longer to send you and Arthur off. "Arthur... y/n."

Arthur sighed, "chase wanted men?" He confirms, ushering you on with a glance.

"And-" he points to the lawman's partner, "take Archibald with ya."

You followed, your horse already springing into action, your adrenaline not short after that.

"Just what I signed up for..." Arthur clearly discontent with what he got to be volunteered for. "Come on, big guy."

He helped Archibald up on his horse and took off beside you and after the train. The sight of the men on the back of the train and your chasing brought you back to the very day that was the reason you were here now.

Archibald hollered from the back, encouraging you forward with jarring words. "Keep your guns holstered, we need them Anderson boys alive."

You clicked your tongue, pushing your mare forward, surprised at the speed in which the train was already traveling.

Archibald nagged again. "Come on hurry!"

His words were met with swift retort of displeasure from Arthur. "All right."

"Come on, we're losing them!"

"Will you relax? We're not losing 'em!"

"Faster, come on! What's your name, sir?" Archibald seemed to have a speed in mind that a horse would have trouble reaching with two riders on its back. "And how about you, lady?"

"Arthur. Arthur Callahan." Replied a grumpy Arthur. Although you didn't have much sympathy for him, it made you smile in the face of this situation.

"Y/n Callahan." Without a fake last name in mind, you copied Arthurs.

"Faster, Mr. and Mrs. Callahan, please. My neck is on the line here!"

"I get it. We're doing our best." Arthur grunts. His eyes were trained on you, curious that you copied him.

The last of the four was dangling off the back of the train, struggling to pull himself up. His buddy fortunately came back for him.

"You sure I can't just shoot him?" Arthur asks, disregarding what he had been told moments earlier.

"No. Did I not say that?" Archibald scolds, watching the men escape further up the train.

"You've said plenty." Arthur was on his last straw and you appreciated the help from Archibald.

"So long deputies!" Came a man monkeying around on the roof of the final cart, teasing and whooping.

The water tower in the back posed a quickly approaching threat to the completely oblivious man who was but too quick to celebrate his victory.

You cringed back as the harsh smack of the back of his head met with funnel to the water tower. Your horse barely missing his body now knocked clean out on the tracks.

"Idiot. Now get after the others, come on!" He shouted at you and Arthur, keeping your minds trained on the ones who were conscious.

The train started slowing as it passed the big red building that was the station, which Archibald pointed out.

Your horses now were more of a match for the speed and you both came up alongside the train.

"You think you both can jump on there?"

"She can." Arthur outs you with non-existent hesitation. "But why me?"

"Because you ride like my grandmother!" Insisted Archibald, which would have you chuckling right in Arthur's face had you not been distracted.

One of the men started throwing bottles, one would've hit you if the man wasn't so bad at judging distance, the glass shattering in the distance that you covered quickly.

"Now he's throwing bottles. The lowdown bastard!" Archibald squealed, dodging one heading right for him.

You took the liberty of joining the Anderson boys on the train first as you were ahead of Arthur and Archibald. Arthur not mere moments fore he was behind you.

You caught your breath for a second, catching another bottle hurled at you while Arthur faced him head on.

The man atop the cargo on the train managed a good kick on Arthur who fell to the side. His neck quickly subject to the squeezing of the Anderson boy's hand.

"You bastard!" Screamed the man as he held onto Arthur with vigor.

You felt a strange sense of anger wash over you as you made for Arthurs aid, grabbing a good fistful of cloth and heaving the man off with Arthurs help.

"Thats it!" Came Archibalds encouragement from the side lines. In his hands were your horses reins. Kind of him, you thought, to bring your horse.

You helped Arthur up and both of you started for the rest of them, although admittedly, without a gun, you'd have to let Arthur do most of the strong arming.

"Come on, both of you! I'm relying on you guys!" Archibald was certainly one for constant reminding.

The sprinting on the train felt counter productive, it was certainly more work than just regular running.

Arthur made sure to be in front of you, he was like a big shield and ran surprisingly fast for how large he is.

"You hold it right there!" Arthur shouts at the other two men who were barely in sight ahead of you.

You had to jump atop the roof and Arthur, the gentleman that he is, helped none.

This normally would not have been a problem, but with your weak arm, it left you struggling.

Arthur had pushed through it despite his shoulder and was ready to go off and leave you but he didn't. He stood above you and held out his hand.

"Let's go, Mrs. Callahan." His face gave away the fact that he enjoyed this activity with you. Also by the fact he was picking on you again.

"I'm coming, grandmother." You were sure to tease back. His hand gripped yours and with the strength of not a grandmother, pulled you up with ease. He gave you a scoff before continuing on after the Andersons with you.

"Come on, shitbags!" Mocked one of the men from ahead. Jumping from cart to cart and down again to keep ahead of you both.

The second time you both needed to climb Arthur just grabbed you and heaved you up, his shoulder clearly bothered him as a pained grunt was heard from behind you.

Atop this car one of the men was right there, but your mind was on helping Arthur instead. As you gripped under his arms and pulled, footsteps pounded behind you.

The guy came right back around and started coming for you, which was not good. To say the least.

"You're the law?" He scoffs, your not so threatening appearance seemed to spur him on more. "We're runnin from you?" He hadn't seemed to notice that Arthur was also hot on his tail.

He was large and he was not letting up. His heavy footsteps thundering toward you shook the metal roof under you.

Your hand instinctively brushed the gun at your hip but Archibalds multiple requests lingered in your mind.

He was quick to be on you, throwing out your arms to brace yourself and push him away from you as his hands met your shoulders, trying to wrestle you off the train car entirely.

His strength was clear as you both struggled, your body wobbling closer and closer to the edge.

"Not so scary now, huh?" This man derides before his eyes widen at the friend you had in tow.

Arthur pulls him off and throws him to the ground, his back meeting the hard metal with a thud.

You take the chance to continue after the other, perhaps just threatening the man with your gun would do. You felt like you weren't being of much help, which hit you right in the gut.

"Damn bastard!" Hollers the man now at Arthurs mercy from behind you. "Get away from me!"

That was his final spew of nonsense before his consciousness loses itself to Arthur's fist.

Ahead was the final member of this gang that was in need of a catching. You had to jump down and get inside of the car he had slipped into.

The running came to a halt, the final cart being cold and the smell of fresh meat filled your nose. A particular pleasure that wasn't all that pleasurable.

"Quit runnin'. You ain't got much of a chance anyway, Anderson."

"Yeah? And what are you gonna do little lady?" He jeers from his cornered position at the front of the train cart.

"Don't worry your head about me. It's him." You point back to the man behind you. It wouldn't be like that had you been able to use your gun. It certainly felt strange being so powerless but not unfamiliar. Arthur always reminded you.

"Do we need to bother?" Arthur groans, rolling his shoulder with a wince.

"Let me go!" The man demands, his aggressive stomps closing the distance between him and Arthur.

"I can't do that." Arthur replies, holding up his fists. The man had a knife, which worried you slightly as you watched this fight ensue.

The sudden halting of the train threw all three of you forward suddenly, the man caught off guard, was doubly caught off guard by Arthur taking his chance to take him on.

They wrestled around, the sounds of fists hitting bodies were apparent. Despite Arthurs effort, the man kept getting closer to where you stood, which then had you counting your options on what to do if he changes his target.

His knife went clean through Arthurs forearm, who in turn gasped in pain. You wanted to do something, but getting in Arthurs way would do more harm than good.

He stumbled back from Arthur, his proximity to you no less than an arm length, it presented an opportunity. With your good arm and the back of your gun, you brought it down hard on the back of the man's head. Not enough to knock him out but enough for Arthur to.

You and Arthur stared at each other for a moment before hunching over to catch your breath. The spontaneity of this situation finally hit you and the realization made you laugh breathily. Arthur gave you a look before he couldn't help but give a small chuckle as well.

Motioning for his bleeding arm, you tear off the remaining cloth from his shirt and shape it into a decent enough improvised gauze.

"Can't fix my shirt now, I guess." Arthur observes the obvious but he didn't seem to be genuinely mad by the prospect of it.

"All this blood of yours ruined it already." You shake your head, tying the torn cloth gently around his arm gently.

"Suppose you're right." He admits, a conceded smile drawn on his face.

"That's how it always is." You tease, not being sure what to do with your hands now that they have blood on them. "At Least you got him."

"That's also how it always is." He repeats in a voice that sounded like it was suppose to be a mockery of yours.

"I expect no less from you, grandma dearest." You praise, even if it wasn't exactly that.

"Leave out grandma, please." He shakes his head, his laugh turning into a tired smile.

"Just dearest?" Your eyebrow raises with a teasing smirk.

"Just dearest." He confirms, meeting your eyes with an equal look on his face.

Despite him saying things like this before, you haven't found yourself any more prepared for it than the time previous. "If you're going to flirt, at least try."

"Okay then." He stands upright and as he gears himself up for the "flirting" a loud, galling voice comes from the outside of the cart.

"Hello? Is everything alright in there?" For the past minute, Archibald had vanished from your mind, only to return at an unsatisfactory time.

Arthur was audibly and visibly displeased as he reported back to the lawman, "well... I don't think he's dead... but I think we won the fight."

Arthur picked up the downed man, and Archibald pulled the door open to finally see what happened. "Bring him out here."

"Deputy." Arthur nods with a greet as you follow out behind him.

"Sounded like quite a commotion. Is that him?" The lawman examines the blonde Anderson to check.

"I sincerely hope so." Grumps Arthur. His temporary humor gone from just moments ago.

"Old Anders Anderson." Scoffs Archibald with a look of scorn.

That there was the head man, a surprise that he didn't have more in him. Though in all fairness, he got ganged up when you joined Arthur for a second.

You all mounted, following Archibald to where you needed to go take this man not unlike you and Arthur, to the can.

The ride basically amounted to nothing more than a tour from Archibald. He spoke of the Gray's and the Braithwaite's. One, a respectable family. The other, not so much.

Arthur kept glancing at you while you both listened to him talk about these families, their fortune and their feud. You both knew it sounded like something Dutch and Hosea would love to hear about.

The road brought you lot into town quickly, greeted by a fairly large saloon, sure to be mentioned was that it was owned by the Gray's. As most things were said to be in this town. Rhodes, so it was.

Hosea sat outside of the sheriff's office, greeting you all as you rode up and it wasn't long till Dutch barged out of the door behind Sheriff Gray.

"I told you Arthur would deliver, man has a passion for justice." Dutch exclaims behind the sheriff as he meets the rest of everyone back outside.

Sheriff Gray thanked you and Arthur for the help, setting Trelawny free from his imprisonment in return for the task you had completed.

All of this for a man you'd never met. Though as much as you thought about it, there was no regret. Running alongside Arthur and the two of you on that train together had been a surprising amount of fun.

Dutch and the Sheriff exchanged conversation for a short while before warning Dutch to keep Trelawny out of trouble.

Now quickly did you find that Trelawny was quite the talker.

"And you are?" He coo's with a slight bow and a hand shake.

"Y/n l/n." You nod, returning his hand shake.

"How lovely to meet you, Miss l/n." He kindly nods before spinning back around to lead the group of you.

Trelawny reiterated the story of the Gray's and Braithwaite's. Long standing feud, gold that was fought over, cousins marrying cousins or not marrying cousins. It was strangely interesting.

"I want you guys to check that out later." Dutch was sure to mention, directing it towards you, Hosea and Arthur.

Trelawny warned of all the talk, 500 miles around, north and south, "super agents" or sorts of that matter.

Dutch laughed with disbelief. "Super agents? All talk."

"Oh, no doubt." Trelawny agreed before turning back around to face all of you. His words were that of departure, which surprised you, having just met this man no less than five minutes ago.

Dutch shrugged when Hosea looked at him, even surprised, nodding a goodbye to Trelawny.

As your group of four made way back to your horses, Dutch brought up the rich families.

"Hosea, I want you to check out the Braithwaite's. Arthur, you and y/n sniff around the Gray's place."

You nodded your agreement and Arthur his. "Our friend Archibald showed us the Gray's place earlier." Told Arthur, recounting your recent ride.

Dutch and Hosea now chattered together up ahead, leaving you and Arthur to walk together behind them.

The two of you were so close together your shoulders brushed but neither of you seemed to care enough to make any distance.

"So who was that?" You ask Arthur curiously.

"Oh, Trelawny? A slippery con man of sorts. We've known him for a good while."

You hum your acknowledgement, "he's not a part of the gang?"

"He is. Just, that's why he's slippery. Doesnt stay nowhere too long."

You give it some thought. The man looked like a high fligher and in towns like this, spelled trouble. You had found that out before you had become particularly opinionated against the law.

You rubbed your sore arm, the scab formed around the wound was sure to leave a scar. It hurt everytime you prodded at it too much but admittedly it became a bad habit.

"How's your arm after that?" You guessed he was referring to the man you had scuffled with no less than an hour ago.

"It's not bad." You dismiss with a wave of your hand. "Your shoulder is more worrisome, that cut too. Think you should rest it for a while."

Arthur looked over at you with a subtle look of sarcastic shock. "Worried for me now, are ya?"

You bumped into him with your shoulder, your discontent frown unable to stay for long as a smile crept up on you.

As close as that man could get to giggling was what he was doing.

"Quite the fishin’ trip, huh?" Arthur proclaims ahead to Hosea and Dutch.

"The fish weren't so easy to catch neither." You sigh, tired from all that runnin you had to do.

"No, that they weren't." Dutch laughs in agreement, talking like the one who gladly had to do none of the fishing. "There's still time. I'm up for it."

"How about you two?" Hosea questions, looking you and Arthur up and down. "Or have you had enough of the chase for one day?"

Arthur meets your eye, seemingly checking if you'd want anything to do with it first.

"Pearson will need something for the soup." You agreed, pushing down the unsavory idea of handing over your catch for the stew Pearson would cook up.

"Yeah alright then." Arthur adds, agreeing with the rest. Hosea, happy with this, mounted his horse behind Dutch and Arthur.

Amongst the riding, Hosea and Dutch told stories of the past, ones involving Trelawny. Everyone in the group had a good laugh at these stories, and for this moment, you had not a care in the world. Not even the feeling of being an outcast haunted you as you and your fateful friends - perhaps, if you could call them that, made your way to your planned fishing trip.

----

So far, just a fishing trip is never actually "just" a fishing trip. Just a dangerous date.

[darkcreamz95]

Joker Out The Hague Concert Report (5.12.2023)

Oh boy... where do I begin with my first ever JO show and first ever pop/rock concert in my life...

[ UPDATE 15.1.2024: I finally put the Amsterdam report up, you can read it here. ]

Got to the venue at 2.30pm to get a queue number for me and my friend, got number 89 and 90.

Everyone was so lovely, even if we've never met before until that day! Thank you everyone for the friendship bracelets, sweets and charm! Also thank you to everyone who took my stickers, I loved seeing the reactions and it makes the last minute rush to go print and cut them before flying over so worth it!

My friend and I decided to go for the first floor balcony, and for a first show, that was a good idea so I don't end up feeling overwhelmed from standing at the floor (plus I got a good view of Nace and Jan even if I'm on the left side of the venue.)

Anna Rose Clayton is amazing on stage as the opening act, really hyped everyone up before the boys take the stage! Note to self, gotta listen to more of her stuff!

Ok JO part START!

I was warned about how epic the opening is, and YOU BET IT WAS! The lights, the opening music, even my video recording of the opening doesn't do it justice, you just have to witness it yourself live!

First thought when the boys first show up: I WAITED HALF A YEAR FOR THIS I CAN'T BELIEVE IT'S ACTUALLY THEM HELP HELP HELP ALSO BOI ARE THEY TALLLLLLLLL

Jan looked up and I did a tiny wave, he waved back ai crai

At some point during the show, Bojan also looked up and waved back at me ahahah...

Really Bojan made sure everyone in the room is having fun, not just the floor, even the balcony and the furthest end of the venue.

We got the 'Dopamin' dance and 'Tokio' wiggles from Jance, as a Jance girlie, I'm satisfied!

When I describe Jan's guitar solo, I tell people that "when he plays, it felt as if the world stopped spinning so that he could play", his guitar solo of 'Burning Daylight' and the added orange spotlight really felt like that...

The boys really poured their heart and soul into each of their songs, the energetic ones really pump you up, the melancholic ones make you want to break down and cry on the spot.

Heck don't forget that they've just battled Munich to get their asses over to the Netherlands and are probably exhausted from the journey, really massive respect to them and the crew...

SINTERKRIS!!! Kris looked so happy speaking Dutch and to be at his mother's home country! That Sinterklaas and NGVOT singing was so cute!

Before 'Barve Oceana', Bojan got a Magikarp hat and then he made a speech about protecting the oceans for the sake of the Magikarps, I laughed.

I set out to witness the guitar riffs in 'Katrina' live, and I was not disappointed.

Yes they've worn their Stozice/post-Eurovision outfits a lot in recent shows, BUT THE LACE AND BUCKLE DETAILS ON THEM... I'm happy to be able to see them with my very own eyes.

Overall, I'm happy that I've decided to go to the Hague one first, so this show can prepare me for the Amsterdam one (and what's about to go down on that day).

@zadig-of-fate thank you again for accommodating me that day! I had a fun time learning about the details during the show! :D

Bonus:

[bimrsadler]

could you do an f!reader who is wealthy and actually decides to become patron to the gang, letting them stay at their manor on the outskirts of Saint Denis? she asks for a personal guard in turn, which she asks High Honor Arthur to fill the role of. She's tiny, petite even (like 4'9"-ish) and very femme but with a sharp, elegant tongue.

she likes to hang out with Arthur and show him the wealthy side of life while he shows her the lifestyle of being out in the country. All the tensions and staring of a rich, unmarried lady out with a rugged outlaw of man? Perfect bait. 👀

Fluffy or NSFW or just sexual tension is okay! Feel free to go all kinds of ways with this if you do take the rq, ty!! Love your work!!

Fortune Favors the Bold

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x female reader

Word count: 4,600

Warnings/tags: nsft, use of guns/light violence, high honor Arthur, fluff, mutual pining, unprotected piv, dirty talk, size difference, use of pet names

Notes: you gave me a lot to work with anon so I decided to just have fun and make this a longer one, sorry it took a bit but I hope it’s what you were looking for!

Walking around Saint Denis it was hard not to feel eyes on you wherever you went, you were an odd couple after all.

Couple. It wasn’t a word you ever thought you’d use to describe you and Arthur Morgan. Truthfully you weren’t an actual couple; not in the literal sense anyway, but you did enjoy a partnership of sorts and it felt comfortable enough to call him your friend.

As you explored the streets together your differences could not be any clearer, the sun glinted off the gold around your neck while the only gleam on Arthur was off the cold steel of his revolver.

An air of grace and elegance followed you wherever you went, wealth represented in your high end dresses.

The man at your side the complete opposite.

An air of intimidation and ruggedness followed Arthur, worn clothing indicative of his rough lifestyle.

And of everything about him you found yourself inexplicably drawn to, it was the fact that he towered over you that was most alluring.

Being of high status and short stature — you were an easy target. Meeting the Van der Linde gang for the first time was nerve wracking to say the least, knowing that if they wanted to harm you they could in no time.

But the man who introduced himself as Arthur Callahan with the badge on his vest was clearly not a real deputy, and knowing of the Grays and Braithwaites; you weren’t particularly upset at their scheming.

Before Arthur and Dutch could warn you not to tell anyone — you proposed working together instead.

While they were no doubt dangerous criminals, they were more understanding than you expected and most of the gang fun to be around. Leery of you at first, they knew it was advantageous to have someone of your status on their side, and found there was more to you than how you presented on the outside.

While your family was away, you offered the manor as a safe-house for the gang and they gave you Arthur in return. It would take a lot of bold stupidity to make an attempt on you when a man like him was by your side.

It wasn’t unusual to get curious men asking what a woman like you was doing with a man like Arthur, to which you would warn them to mind their own business. And if they were more brash than curious? Well it didn’t take long for them to learn their mistake when Arthur came over.

Not everyone looked at Arthur like he didn’t belong though. Outlaw or not, he was arrestingly attractive; pulling in wandering eyes from the upper and lower class alike.

People always seemed pleasantly surprised at how well mannered he was as well, greeting passerby’s with a hat tip and a “ma’am,” listening to strangers stories and stopping to pet street dogs. Really since you’d met — he was primarily only a threat to those who were a threat to you.

The two of you grew curious about each other, with your lifestyles and upbringings being so different. Everything about the gang was exciting to you and you cautiously wanted to explore it. Arthur had a harder time admitting he was interested in what your side of life had to offer and felt uncomfortable with how foreign it felt.

But you caught him eyeing the beautiful things in your home, letting his fingertips glide along the piano keys, smirking at the expensive weapons mounted and fine whiskies.

It was the art that he took a particular interest in however. He was shy about it at first, gazing at the framed paintings on the walls wanting to know more about them but too nervous to inquire.

So you would stand beside him and tell him the history of it, of the artist, as he stood scratching his beard intently listening.

“Hmm,” he’d mumble dryly — trying to downplay his curiosity but giving himself away by quickly pointing to the one beside it, “and how ’bout this one?”

Arthur never felt fully comfortable in fancier settings but you loved bringing him to dinners and plays with you. When he lost himself in the dishes and dramas meant for the higher class, he fully enjoyed himself.

You never felt at ease in those situations either though, always needing to show a performative smile and appear proper was exhausting. So after the parties you would surprise Arthur by asking him to take you to a saloon or maybe just a stroll in the woods, and he was more than happy to oblige.

Arthur was hesitant when you asked to take trips with him however; worried you didn’t understand what you were getting into.

“No offense Miss but I don’t think ya know what yer askin’.”

“I may be rich but I’m not dumb — Mister.” You said with a sarcastic hiss. “I’d like to learn.”

Arthur rolled his eyes and agreed reluctantly, clearly assuming you would just be deadweight.

But you were a quick learner, and you enjoyed it.

It was exhilarating learning to shoot and skin, and much to Arthur’s surprise you had no qualms about looting with him or being the lookout on a job.

Your favorite nights however were the ones under the stars and beside the crackling fire. You would take the sounds of the slow moving river and rustling pines over the ramblings of relatives whose only talking points were property prices and fine China, any day.

A truth you were anxiously coming to terms with was the fact that you also loved all of this because of Arthur. You could spend hours listening to the husky timbre of his voice excitedly tell you the stories that only a Hell-raising outlaw could.

And yet he was just as enrapturing while sketching quietly or baby-talking his horse as he brushed and fed it.

This evening in Saint Denis was the culmination of all of those nights of curiosity and company.

You had woken up early that morning, Arthur journaling on the couch as you approached him.

“I have an idea cowboy.”

He closed his journal and raised an eyebrow.

“You guys still need money right? Well you and I could make a killing in Saint Denis…”

Arthur sighed and closed his journal, “meanin’?”

“Without you on my arm I’m an easy target in the wrong part of town. You could hang back and I could just draw them out,” you raised your eyebrows excitedly.

Arthur stood up waving his arms in the air, “absolutely not. You crazy woman?!”

“First of all, we would make a good team. Second, do not call me ‘woman’.”

Arthur seemed to take your scolding to heart, shoulders slumping slightly. “Sorry…”

Walking over to you with a softer tone he continued, “just wouldn’t forgive myself if somethin’ happened to ya. I know yer capable but…these things can be unpredictable.”

“Maybe so, but I trust you. Now c’mon Arthur, live a little,” you teased with a wink.

That was all it took, though he continued complaining about going against his better judgment.

Dolling yourself up in your finest that evening, you stood in front of the mirror — scared and excited.

Arthur came in slowly after a delicate knock. In the reflection you caught him pausing at the sight of you, eyes roaming and expression softening.

“You uh…ya ready?”

“Almost, I just…can’t get this necklace to clasp,” you laughed nervously.

“Oh uh…well lemme help then…”

Arthur’s boots were heavy on the floor but his approach was slow and considerate. Handing him the necklace, he draped it around your front, cold metal brushing against you.

The combination of his warm and broad chest hovering against your back with his calloused fingertips ghosting along the skin of your neck, brought forth goosebumps you hoped he wouldn’t notice.

Watching in the reflection, a slight tremble kept him from joining the two sides of the necklace. “Damn fingers are too big,” he chuckled bashfully.

“It’s okay,” you spoke quietly with a reassuring smile.

Finally it clasped together, the emerald jewel coming to a rest at the swell of your cleavage. Before Arthur stepped back, his knuckles lingered on the nape of your neck as he dragged a fingertip along the golden filigree.

“So…would you steal this from me Arthur?”

“Well, you’d definitely catch my attention,” he said warmly before stepping back.

Trying not to read into Arthur’s response, you absentmindedly adjusted in front of the mirror. “Haven’t worn this dress yet, wasn’t sure if I liked it…”

“Why? Y’look beautiful,” Arthur stated.

You felt a flutter spread in your chest and stomach while watching him fumble with his gunbelt in the mirror.

“I uh,” he cleared his throat and motioned toward the door, “we should get goin’.”

All eyes were on you as your large bodyguard walked protectively by your side. You meandered through the city waiting for nightfall, listening to the street performers and perusing the shop windows.

As the sun dipped below the horizon you and Arthur made your way behind the saloon.

“Now you catch someone’s eye ‘n bring ‘em out here,” Arthur pointed to the dark of the alleyway, “I’ll be right down there.”

Clasping your shoulder with his bear paw of a hand he implored, “please be careful.”

“Always am Mr. Morgan,” you winked with a confident smile though your heart was racing.

You watched as he concealed the lower half of his face with a black bandana, leaving only his eyes to be seen under the wide brim of his hat.

Only in the faint light of the streetlamp did you realize that Arthur’s eyes were the same shade as the jewel around your neck. Your heart was pounding for more reasons than one.

The night wore on with the usual bothering from drunk and foolish men — mostly harmless, buying you drinks (that you only pretended to sip) and asking why you were alone.

You fiddled with your necklace and purse, making sure to draw any attention from types you wouldn’t want noticing.

And it did. A dirty and angry looking man in the corner caught your eye. He wasn’t drunk and he had been watching you closely for most of the night.

As the music and clamoring picked up in pace and volume you headed toward the swinging doors in the back; sure enough he followed in your peripheral.

Each second as you made your way into the alley became more and more urgent, heart pounding and sweat dripping while you kept your hand close to your purse — should you need to use the knife Arthur gifted you.

The man closed in quickly, not touching you yet but attempting to intimidate with his presence. “Better stop right there girl…”

Turning around slowly you looked at your mark. He was big — but not as big as Arthur.

“Ain’t anyone teach you not to be alone in places like this?” He sneered with an air of superiority.

You watched Arthur’s bulky frame come into view from behind the shadows, “who says I’m alone?”

The gun in Arthur’s hand pressed to the man’s temple, “ain’t anyone ever teach you to be a gentleman?”

Arthur chuckled darkly, “now…I’m gonna hand that gun in yer holster to the fine lady,” he pressed the revolver harder into the man’s head, making him flinch. “— an’ if ya try anything I’ll blow yer goddamn head off.”

Arthur’s voice was deep and dark and almost made you feel bad for the man, but mostly it stirred something within you.

After the gun was given to you, Arthur began rummaging through the pockets to find money and trinkets.

You knew what the two of you were doing wasn’t right either and Arthur was a bad man, but he was good to you and there was goodness inside of him.

And at that moment? Electricity surged through every inch of your body with exhilaration and you had trouble finding sympathy for a man who would corner a woman by herself.

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?” The reality of the situation hit hard as a police officer stopped at the end of the alleyway — clearly seeing that it was Arthur robbing the man.

“Oh thank God you’re here officer!” You threw a shaking hand up to play the victim, “please help us!”

You felt terrible for the brief panic in Arthur’s darting eyes as he seemed unsure if you were betraying him.

It didn’t last though. Using your other hand you quickly pointed the gun you kept hidden from view and fired above the officers head.

Arthur understanding that it was a way to buy time, hit the man with the butt of his gun in an attempt to knock him out.

Swiftly grabbing your wrist he pulled you through the saloon, the drunk and confused patrons slowing down the cop in pursuit.

“The hell was that?!” Arthur demanded under his breath.

“Me trying to save our skins — you’re welcome!”

“I’ll thank ya if we make it outta here alive,” Arthur taunted as he found the closest horse to steal. He pulled you with no effort at all, your feet leaving the ground in the blink of an eye.

You wrapped an arm around Arthur’s tight core and pointed the gun behind you with the other, the galloping horse keeping you from a steady aim.

“Arthur where are we going?!”

“Jus’ hold on I’ll figure it out!”

Approaching a bridge you noticed that the view was partly obscured by willow trees, making it a good time as any to throw off the lawman.

Aiming to the best of your ability you shot behind you again, hoping to stall and not harm him. At that moment Arthur took a hard right into the grass and through the trees.

A proper lady’s place was not on the back of a horse with a wanted man, nor was it in a seedy alleyway with bad intentions. But there was nowhere else you wanted to be.

Nestling the gun in the saddlebag, you clung tightly to Arthur’s midsection and buried your face between his shoulder blades.

He was warm and strong and the wind in your hair cooler now, every sense heightened from the rush surging through you.

Slowing to a trot Arthur pulled to a grassy clearing and stopped. “Think we made it…”

He dismounted and grabbed you by the waist to help you do the same, bodies flush as your feet hit the ground.

“Wasn’t exactly a perfect heist but…you handled yerself well sweetheart.”

Arthur’s arms still hovered around you loosely as he spoke beneath his bandanna. His eyes searched yours as you brought your fingertips to his face.

Slowly, you removed what kept his lips from you and ran your thumb along his stubbled cheek. You admired the chestnut locks that fell carelessly along his brow and the way his broad chest heaved at your touch. All you wanted to do was kiss him and never stop kissing him.

“I feel like I could do anything right now Arthur…”

A smirk formed at the corner of his lips with an expectant raise of his eyebrows. Standing on your tiptoes your brought his face to yours for a slow, delicate kiss.

Though he looked dumbstruck and returned the gesture, he pulled back for a moment. “I want this but…I’m no good for ya girl. I’m only good at fightin’ and robbin’…you know that.”

“Bullshit Arthur.” The look on his face was priceless, seemingly more shocked to hear you swear despite just seeing you shoot at the law.

“Bullshit. You have goodness in you too and I’m a grown woman who knows what she wants.” Arthur watched you in disbelief.

“You’re good at protecting me and the way you touch me is kind and it makes me feel safe. I want you to keep touching me like that Arthur…”

A flicker of pride flashed on his face. The only time you could tell Arthur felt good about himself was when he helped others and he especially took a shine to helping you. Being a protector let him realize he was capable of being good at more than just robbing and fighting.

“Fair enough,” he said bringing you back in his embrace. “But I need to hear ya say it.”

“I want this Arthur, you have no idea,” your words were breathy and impatient.

His grip on you was tender but somehow still powerful despite not using any of his real strength. You felt positively tiny in his arms.

His mouth opened more for you, allowing curious flicks of your tongue on his; light whimpers combining. Hands began moving more hungrily — yours down his chest and his up your thigh.

Months prior you might have felt shame at the ache between your legs and the desire urging your hips forward; but now all you cared about was Arthur dousing that fire.

“Sweetheart it shouldn’t be like this…”

Your heart dropped, unsure of where he was going with that statement. “Wh— what do you mean?”

“Well I—look…” Arthur stuttered, trying to find the right words with a reddening face. “You deserve better’n layin’ in some grass in the woods like this.”

He paused to think and fiddle with his suspenders before continuing, “least lemme take ya back to the manor. Wanna make it, y’know…proper.”

You considered telling Arthur that you wanted it here, still riding the high of the night; being outside after barely escaping would only add to the thrill.

But Arthur didn’t want that. He wanted to treat you special and give you comfort and patience. He didn’t need to be the rugged outlaw anymore that night, he just needed to be your suitor.

You already got to play cops and robbers, maybe it was his turn to play the gentleman.

Sighing with relief you took Arthur’s hand, “well just so you know, here would be just fine with me.” Planting a reassuring kiss on his cheek you headed toward the horse, “but you can take me home.”

Arthur took a longer, more secluded route through the woods in case someone was still looking for you.

It wasn’t easy being patient, the tension palpable and the anticipation exquisite.

As you lurched forward with the horses gait you replayed the kiss and wandering hands in your mind.

You couldn’t wait to unbutton his shirt, to feel the curve of his muscle, to make him whine with the touch of your fingertips, and God you couldn’t wait to feel his on you.

You wanted him to squeeze you and mark you in every intimate place that was usually kept hidden. To thrust and curl and fill all of you.

Positioning yourself higher on the saddle you let your hands roam along his waistline and kissed the curve where his neck met his shoulder.

Arthur leaned his head, allowing you to kiss and nip at more of his sensitive skin. He responded with his rough hand grasping your calf. Ever so slowly it pushed up your dress and glided along your thigh.

Your hips instinctively rolled forward to the small of his back, Arthur kneading the fat of your thigh as your wetness grew.

It really wasn’t easy being patient.

You keened, “how much longer baby?”

“Jesus,” Arthur sighed while rolling his own hips at the air. “Gonna be there soon.”

“Tell me what you’re gonna do to me Arthur…”

“’M’gonna take off that dress you look so goddamn gorgeous in and feel how soft y’are.”

“Gonna feel how soft I am everywhere?” You teased with a light bite to his ear.

Arthur grunted a yes, “gonna part them pretty legs and make ya feel good darlin’. You gonna be good’n wet for me?”

“Oh you could sink into me right this second Arthur.”

“My God girl,” Arthur said taken aback. “Never thought I’d hear ya talkin’ like that…”

“I’m full of surprises.” You snaked your hand down to his lap, lightly ghosting over his straining manhood. “And I see you’re ready for me.”

Arthur shuddered with a groan, “painfully so.”

Laughing together you continued teasing touches and lustful whispers until the manor came into view.

Arthur sent the horse off and though it was late, the two of you snuck in should any of the gang still be up.

As the doors of the bedroom closed behind you, Arthur lifted you up and wrapped your legs around his waist. Gently pressing you to a wall your kisses were passionate and rutting slow.

Carrying you over to the bed, Arthur sat you at the edge and positioned himself behind.

Though they trembled slightly with nerves, he moved with unhurried and adept hands; carefully untying and undoing each bit of your dress and corset.

Despite the prior buildup and desperation, Arthur worked with incredible consideration and care — making sure not to harm your dress and kissing and caressing all newly exposed skin.

As the last of the confines on your upper body fell down your shoulders, Arthur massaged a breast in each hand from behind, kissing your neck and whispering praises in your ears.

Moving to the floor he knelt in front of you, slowly rolling your stockings off each leg and kissing down your inner thighs as he did.

Bare before him you felt vulnerable and exposed in a way you never had been. But Arthur wasn’t like anyone else you’d been with.

Standing up he took you in with an awestruck smile, “how the hell did I get so lucky?”

Moving to unbutton his shirt you mused, “I could ask you the same question.”

Giving him the same affection and attention, your lips and hands explored with purpose — making sure he understood you loved his scars and the hair that dusted his chest and trailed down his abdomen.

You watched as he stepped out of his pants, eager to take his throbbing length in your hand. But before you could, Arthur gently layed you down, moving the pillow under your head as he did.

Running his hand through your hair he gazed sweetly, “feelin’ okay beautiful?”

You nodded eagerly, pulling him down. Settling beside you his hand dipped down to your heat, sliding along your wet folds before pushing a finger in.

A drawn out whine escaped from your lungs, finally getting the touch you needed.

Arthur let out an amused chuckle before bringing his mouth to your breast, twirling his tongue along the stiff peak and sucking it in his mouth. All while working your inner walls.

“Arthur,” you mewled, suddenly overwhelmed at all of the wonderful sensation.

“S’okay sweet girl,” sitting up slightly Arthur used his free hand to move one of yours to your mound. “Show me how ya touch yerself.”

You rubbed circles on your swollen nub, slick with the arousal from Arthur’s pleasuring. Even just the featherlight touch was enough to push you closer as you clenched around his large digits.

Arthur observed you with lust blown eyes, “that’s right sweetheart, let’s getcha there.” His breath was hot against your neck as he cooed in your ear, “be a good girl for me…”

That was all it took for your gut to tighten as Arthur made his way back down to your breast, eagerly sucking between praises while you came around his fingers.

He didn’t remove himself from you until the last of the quivers left your legs and your panting settled. “That’s my girl…”

Gathering your senses and coming back to reality, you gently urged Arthur onto his back and moved to get on top. Straddling his much wider lap was almost a strain.

But the feeling of the underside of his cock as your wet folds glided over the twitching hardness, quickly made any strain forgotten.

Arthur’s hands grasped your hips as you sunk onto him, taking him into your core with needy moans.

He let out a shaky exhale and a whisper of your name while stilling your hips from moving, “jus’…stay like this for a second.”

Reaching up to run his thumb over your lip he smiled warmly, “this has to be the closest to heaven I’ll ever get.”

“Quite the smooth talker there Mr. Morgan.”

He laughed sweetly in response, “nah I ain’t smooth. Jus’ sayin’ what’s true.”

“Well either way,” you writhed slightly, “I think I can get you a little closer to heaven tonight…”

Placing your hands on Arthur’s sturdy chest you began bouncing on his cock, watching as he became a beautiful, whimpering mess beneath you.

There was a pride and thrill in making a tough, some would say brutish man like Arthur melt for you.

“C’mere princess,” Arthur pulled you down flush to him, your breasts pressed tightly to his upper chest as he wrapped his arms around you.

Kissing you with fervor he bucked up into your heat, his much bigger frame completely enveloping you.

“How’s this darlin’?”

“So—fuck, so good.”

“Love hearin’ you swear fer me…”

“Maybe,” you choked out between thrusts, “you should fuck me harder then.”

A primal groan expelled hot breath against your ear as Arthur picked up pace, his hand palming the swell of your ass as it shook with impact.

His substantial hand moved to cover the back of your head, lightly pulling your hair. “You take me so well sweetheart — God, so warm ’n tight.”

Every pump of Arthur’s cock hit a spot that had scarcely been stimulated before, slick dripping down your thighs as he did.

Arthur placed his fingers around your soaked opening, feeling as he pistoned in and out. “We’re makin’ a mess outta these expensive sheets.”

He tenderly placed his hand on your jaw to move your face towards his, “but you like that…dont’cha?”

His gravelly drawl was sex and sin.

Taking his thumb into your mouth you simply moaned a response as your pussy clenched around him.

“Yeah you do…good girl…”

Talking himself into a frenzy, taut muscle twitched and stiffened as he grew closer, legs kicking slightly with shallow breaths.

“Christ m’close,” Arthur choked out as his grip on you trembled.

Swiftly sitting up you hopped off and pumped his pulsing cock as he swore and gasped and gathered the sheets in his tight fists.

“That’s it handsome,” you stroked his flexing thigh while hot spend dripped down your knuckles and shot onto his tight stomach.

Arthur made a good call coming back to the manor; the comfort of the soft linens and silks certainly felt heavenly to your spent bodies.

The sight of him nude and blissful in your bed was something you’d carry with you as well, and you hoped he enjoyed the rare indulgence of comfort.

Propping himself on his elbow, Arthur eyed you with admiration. “Hell of a night.”

“Oh? That’s not just a regular night for you?” You joked with a light giggle.

“Robbin’ an idiot in an alleyway? Sometimes,” he shrugged playfully. “But this?” He leaned down to press his lips tightly to yours. “This ain’t.”

“Ya know darlin’, you ain’t gonna be able to show yer face around them lawmen again,” he realized with a laugh.

“To be honest, I think I’m growing weary of Saint Denis. Was actually hoping I might explore a little more of the world,” you paused to look at Arthur with a coy smile, “ya know?”

“Hmm, I might be able to help ya with that.”

Whether you really could leave and whether Arthur would trust your judgment in making that choice remained to be seen.

But he was happy in that moment and so were you. The two of you together was a paradox, and despite this — or maybe because of, it worked.

All that mattered was Arthur’s strong presence above you as he played with your necklace; the only thing left on your body.

[allzelemonz]

Warm Welcome: Micah Bell X Gender Neutral Reader

Pronouns: None Mentioned Physical Sex: None Mentioned Rating: T/Reference to sex Warnings: Micah Bell is his own warning, reunited, post-Guarma, mentions of cannon character deaths, confessions of love Summary: Micah is the first to find the group after Guarma and he’s been thinking about you for weeks.

When news hit that the robbery went bad you weren’t completely surprised. You and Sadie got everyone out of camp as quickly as possible, finding Charles and a new home. Sadie left a note behind, coded so only one of you would understand it. Between Abigail and Charles’ accounts of the job everyone pieces things together. Whispers circulate as people try to figure out why things really went wrong. Dutch, Javier, Micah, Bill, and Arthur are central parts of the group and are sorely missed. Getting the bodies of your fallen friends would have been much easier with the others here, but you manage.

Just as things really start to look bleak and people are starting to lose hope, you spot something in the distance. You’ve taken the late watch for the past few days, finding peace it it despite the creepy nature surrounding you. Nothing is ever there, nothing of note. But tonight there is a rider on the path. A lone rider coming into camp and you’re the only one awake.

You raise your rifle. “Who’s there?”

The rider stops a few yards from you, dismounting. “Now is that any way to greet your ol’ pal Micah?”

He walks into the light of the lanterns. It is, in fact, Micah. His face is sunburnt, his hair is dried out, and his clothes are ragged, but it’s Micah.

“You’re alive?” You say, lowering your rifle. “What happened?”

He sighs. “I was gone for weeks and all you got is questions?”

“Welcome back, Micah.” You say, mockingly. “Where the hell were you?”

“Ya really know how ta charm a fella.” He says, stepping closer. “We was stuck on an island, nearly died.”

“We found Lenny and Hosea, is everyone else okay?”

“They’re fine.” He clears his throat. “Ya know, cowpoke, all that time got me thinkin’.”

“Don’t you want to go see everyone?” You ask. “Nevermind, I know you don’t care.”

He chuckles. “There’s only one thing I been thinkin’ about since I washed up on that island.”

You shoulder your rifle, giving him a curious look. He steps forward, further into the light, and you can see more of his rough state. His shirt is halfway buttoned and the skin underneath is settling into a tan as the sunburn peels away. He looks worse than you’ve ever seen him.

“Jeez, Micah.” You sigh. “You okay?”

“I will be in a minute, Darlin’.”

He closes the gap between you and presses his lips to yours, his hands cupping your face and holding you in place. His lips are chapped, badly, and his hands are tough with calluses. He leans into the kiss, putting all of that pent up thought from his time on the island into it. He only lets you go once he needs to breathe, holding your forehead against his as you both take much needed breaths.

“That was a much better welcome, cowpoke.” He presses a short kiss to your lips and hums as he lets his hands fall to his sides.

“That’s all you could think about?”

He chuckles, shaking his head as he takes a few steps back. “Oh, I thought about plenty more, but we got time for all that later.”

It takes you a moment to collect your thoughts and refocus. “I’ll, uh, I’ll show you where they put your stuff.”

You turn and walk towards the main house, tip-toeing around the others to grab Micah’s bag and a cup of water. He takes the water from you first, chugging it with a sigh. You hand him the bag and he takes it, opening it right away to get at his hat which he places on his head.

“The washing barrel is around the corner.” You say. “You wanna see the others or do you still not care?”

He chuckles, digging through the bag for his usual clothes. “I’d much rather stay out here with you, Darlin’.”

A shiver goes through you. “Just don’t distract me from watch.”

He steps closer and presses his lips to yours again. “I ain’t promisin’ anything, darlin’.”

You steady your breath as he steps away and disappears around the corner towards the washing barrel. The relief finally comes over you, knowing that your friends are alive and on their way home. Things might finally get back on track.

[agere-fandom]

regressor!tilly jackson!!

note; HIIIIIII- So I'm back again, but with a more underrated character! Tilly!!! She's sooooo underrated, I wished people talked about her more :( and I wish she had more content in the game, like she's so well-written oml- she's so young but so independent. And she loves her big family so much- I LOVE HERRRRR- anywayssss heres your foodddddd- (mwah mwah, she's so pretty)

headcanons;

Tilly is a big sister/middle regressor and her age range is 6 - 10

She's honestly one of the sweetest little's to be around, and everyone always says how adorable she is. And she's very helpful! Always toddling behind a caregiver and asking if they need help, or being with a younger regressor and helping do simple tasks for their caregiver, like make a bottle or play with their toys!

She adores Lenny and Charles the most, and Lenny is her (positive) influence if Arthur isn't. He's always so responsible around her, and their relationship is very big brother/younger sister vibes! He's always reading a book to her, she's always drawing with him

Even with all this positivity, she's still much very independent! Always totting about and always whining if she gets babied too much. Stomping her feet and being like "i'm a big girl! can do t'ings by mahself! don' need no stupid peoples 'round to look afta me! >:[" and just stomps off to the ladies to whine to them about all this. Although she loves all the attention, she doesn't like being babied, and she shows just how much of a big girl she is! (girlboss >:D)

Being around the gang from a very young age has gotten some influences out of her. Arthur and Mrs Grimshaw especially. Some of her more fisty, independent side comes from these two, mostly Mrs Grimshaw, if she had to pick one. But that doesn't mean she has her own thing going on too!

She looks up to Arthur a lot, mostly because he was there from the start of her joining the gang and such, and treats him like an older brother. John is a bit different, but still the same in some sense. She adores Arthur, honestly, and has always enjoyed his company, big or small. She even started to draw a bit like him too! But she's taken more to painting than actual drawing, but it doesn't mean she doesn't keep a sketchbook around!

She loves to do hair! Either it be the ladies or Charles, she's just wanting to style! She tries to keep true to what modern hair styles are in the 20th century and such, but also takes from her own independence too! Braids and buns and afros too! Or she just usually likes the silky feeling of hair/facial features LAMO

Being well-behaved doesn't mean she's cheeky. She loves to be a little troublemaker at times, but not enough to harm anyone. Taking Arthur's hat, stealing a few fresh baked cookies, scaring Dutch awake. Simple, but funny. You can blame Lenny for all of this, but he's worse on his own. Though not as bad as Sean or Micah

She loves to be on horses! Or just look after them in general. Going over to where the horses are kept at camp and stroking them, talking to them and feeding them sugar cubes she (probably stole from Arthur) got from somewhere. She has a sweet connection with horses, and always will have! And she loves going out on horseback rides with Uncle Arthur!

[its-deputy-caleb]

Suggestion prompt: the gang/specific member reacts to their crush/love interest gifting them a new hat lol

heyy i didn't know how many you wanted so i only did three but i've only just started head cannons for the VDL gang so i might do more characters after i get the hang of it more. Anyways enjoy this nonetheless and its gender neutral for everyone.

----------------------------

Dutch

Dutch had lost his hat in a train robbery and is absolutely devastated that his infamous black fedora is gone. He tries his best to hide it but you notice how he attempts to readjust it only to find its not there.

You never liked to see Dutch upset and you thought with all his added stress that a nice gift would help. That’s why you spent weeks searching store after store for a hat that would be a suitable replacement.

On a quiet evening in camp you enter his tent to find him leaning over a crate and mapping out the next move for the gang. You walk over a confidently place the hat over the pages, replacing his view with the gift you’ve finally bought him.

Its almost identical to his old one only it looks much newer and there isn’t a single bullet hole in it (yet). The only real point of difference is the red silk ribbon that wraps around the band of the hat.

Dutch stares at you from his seat and takes your hand in his. He brings it towards him to place a kiss to your knuckles and invites you to sit with him for the rest of the night.

Arthur

Arthur didn’t necessarily like going to the tailor and wasn’t the biggest fan of needing to buy fancy attire. Unfortunately for him, Dutch sent you both to find a new outfit for the upcoming job and you both needed to look the part.

He spent the next half an hour grumbling in the change room, complaining even as he came out to show you the new suit. The only time he didn’t have a constant look of distain on his face was when he eyed one of the hats on the shelf.

When it was your turn to pick your outfit, Arthur being the gentleman that he is let you have some privacy and walked outside for a smoke break while you decided.

As you went to pay you couldn’t help but pick up the hat Arthur had been eyeing and paid for the lot. You exited the tailor and made your way over to him, holding out the hat with a soft smile on your face. Arthur never liked to treat himself and it made you happy that you could do such a small thing for him.

When the next job arrives and Arthur is standing there in his suit, you can’t help but crack a smile at the hat sitting atop his head as well.

Charles

One thing that you and Charles loved to do together was go hunting. Naturally he’s one hundred times better than you but over the past few weeks between jobs, he’s been teaching you how to use the bow properly and how to track wildlife.

Of course you can’t go out together all the time and Charles was planning to head into the Grizzlies to find some wolves and maybe, if he was lucky get to see the white bison. Unfortunately you had to help out on a bank robbery so you wouldn’t get to accompany him.

Charles had been talking about this trip to the grizzlies for a while now and you had no doubt that it would be freezing. That’s why you headed to the trapper and had a warm fluffy hat made for him to take with him.

He was just about to leave when you gifted it to him and his face brightened up with happiness and pride when he saw the pelt was from the elk you two hunted together. Charles brought you in for a tight hug, one that you happily returned before saying your goodbyes.

[artsyco3xist]

TWST OC intro: Professor Yzmin

*Template by Piraticusdorm*

Yzmin is a new professor at NRC who specializes in potionology, alchemy, and biology. He was a former NRC student with Crewel as his upperclassman. He is incredibly vain, self obsessed, and refuses to compromise his sense of style, even in the classroom. His attentiveness to his looks also manifests in his teaching style, being rather strict and will not hesitate to correct his students’ mishaps. They also have a huge temper that's almost as explosive as Ace's lab accidents.

Miscellaneous facts:

He's not good with animals. He had to take supplementary classes for animal languages

In addition to supplementary classes, he once had a friend who tutored him in it as well as attend to him while he was housewarden of Pomefiore

Still sees Crewel as his senpai but likes to have some friendly competition over who's best dressed

Ace: you didn't hear this from me but he still likes playing double dutch! Isn't he like 30 or something???

Got traumatized at a birthday party when he got accidentally hit by a stick when the kid meant to hit the piñata. Don't ask how the first years figured this out

Hobby: paragliding and skin care

Keeps a hidden dagger somewhere on him. Jack swore he saw a knife holster on his leg

“Its like im talking to a monkey. A really really big stupid monkey named ACE!!”

Misc artist's notes

Guys, I spent so much time drawing this guy because I would just STARE at him and let him seduce me/j truly I hold too much power

And the funny part was that he was gonna be fairly modest, but my mom really pushed his design to be closer to Yzma's actual design (which I tried to skip around because I thought it wouldn't work having a lab teacher be in such revealing clothing) so the more I took her input, the more slutty he became... Like... What I'm saying is you can thank my mom for this hot science professor. She too is far more powerful than any mortal and so I had to reign in her ideas lest he be too sexy for children to see.

But I still love this design. I incorporated several design elements from Yzma's various outfits throughout the movie except for the puffy sleeves. That was carried over from a previous draft of Yzmin that leaned more into a generic victorian teacher aesthetic.

The bottom wrap was a combo of Yzma's lab coat and her iconic black dress with a slit down the side. The goggles and gloves were also from the lab coat. The top and the connecting black collar were adapted from her original black dress while the curly bang was taken from her one of her puffy hats she wore right after she successfully took over the empire.

I forget if there was a specific look I took for the earrings, but I'm sure they're from Yzma's "flapper" outfit when she and kronk were at the restaurant looking for Kuzco. And to top it off, cat eye makeup look for her transformation into a cat!

I hope this was interesting to y'all. I want to share more of my art here on Tumblr since it's been trending towards TWST. I do other stuff as well as original pieces, but for now, enjoy what I have to offer!

[itjazzbicch]

The Heat of The Summer

Pairing:  Pat McAfee x Fem Reader 

Summary: The reader has been talking to Pat McAfee in her private life and grows suspicious when Pat's recent rival, Corbin, starts coming around her more often. After rejecting him, Corbin insists on making a move and when Pat sees, he can't help but grow protective, engaging in a fight with Corbin, but the reader makes sure they both end their night on a good note and officially become a couple…

Warnings: SMUT! (18+ ONLY!) (Oral M & F receiving, bit of rough sex, swearing and dirty talk)

My first time writing for Pat so I hope that I did well!

Word Count: 2.6k 

Tag List: @demonqueen29 @peachy-satan00 @new-zealand-chic  @crowleysqueenofhell @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin @thatpanpal @damnnhausen @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @linziland13 @xxx-jazz-xxx @writtingrose @cuzimacomedian @april-jeanette-wagner @starwithaheart @seeingstarks 

I DO NOT OWN THIS GIF:   

“What’s a fine girl like you doing out here all by yourself?”

While waiting for Pat, of course, Corbin just happened to cross paths with me. It’s not the first time that he’s hit on me but lately, he’s been coming around a lot more.

Pat and I were just a thing, had something serious growing, but not official. I was worried about him after Corbin attacked him. Thank goodness he was alright and since I didn’t get to see him due to our busy work weeks, tonight we were going to go out for the night to have a good time.

No one knew about us and Corbin hitting on me like this made me suspicious.

“How many times have I turned you down?” I laughed at him, “Take a hike, man.”

“Why do you always have to be like this?” He didn’t lose any confidence, “You never even give me a chance like, don't you know who I am!”

“Because-“ I was ready to rip him a new one, but I took a step to the side instead, seeing Pat, massive attitude, yanking Corbin around by the shoulders to face him:

“Why are you still here? She told you to take a hike, so take a hike! Or I won’t wait till Summerslam.”

Pat loved to get straight to a fight, was damn good at it, and Corbin? He was the king of instigation:

“Who are you to stick your nose in her business, huh?”

The look in Pat’s eye said it all and Corbin noticed quickly, continuing to poke at him:

“Aww, Pat’s crushing on Y/N! Isn’t that cute!”

“Listen Corbin,” I stepped between them, wanting this to end, “We just had a long work night. You can save this for Summerslam.”

“He started it,” Corbin scoffed at me, slowly pushing me out of the way to say in Pat’s face, “Besides, he’s just mad because it wouldn’t be the first time that I stole a girl that he liked.”

I jumped at how hard Pat punched him dead in the face, knocking his hat off and just going to town, watching in shock, some guys in the locker room started breaking them up.

It was already bad enough that Corbin attacked him, now messing with me and talking trash like that? He could only take so much and I could see how pissed he was.

“Pat, hey! Hey!” I said quickly, pushing away the guys holding him back and holding his shoulders, “You know that I would never entertain him. Just ease up and we can go out and have the fun night we planned on having, okay?”

I couldn’t blame him for wanting to beat him up, but this had to end. Thankfully, my words worked. Keeping his arm around my shoulder, he made sure to have the last word at Corbin:

“Just wait till Summerslam. Your bumass is done.”

“Come on, baby,” I whispered to him softly, hoping some sweetness would help and it was nice to see him smiling, turning with me, and heading off.

“I’m sorry about that, Y/N,” Pat sighed, hopping into his car with me, “He just-“

“It’s okay,” I held his hand while sitting in, lifting his mood a little more, “I won’t lie, I loved watching you punch him in the face like that.”

“He must’ve forgot that I know how to fight,” He chuckled, starting up the car and then holding my hand again, kissing it softly as he drove out of the parking lot, “And I don’t play when it comes to my baby.”

Hearing him call me baby made my heart throb, squeezing his hand and holding it for the entire ride.

The small bar we went to had such a mellow vibe and it helped relax the both of us, getting a small dinner to share, some drinks to unwind, and quickly, he was the Pat that had me falling.

While wrapping up, he was paying the tab and I was on my phone for a moment, seeing a post that Corbin made, making it look like me laughing at him was me flirting along in the photo he posted on his story, trying to make it look like we were talking.

“This fucker,” I mumbled under my breath, having Pat look over to see for himself.

Just like me, it radiated our anger, but he was always on the fly, grabbing his phone and setting up against one of the empty glasses on the table.

“Pat?” I was smiling so much when I noticed him pull up his camera, setting a timer on it.

“He wants you? Too bad,” He smiled, pulling me over and kissing me as the timer ticked down, “Let’s show him who’s boss.”

“Hell yeah, baby,” I smiled, kissing back, smiling brightly against his lips.

“Officially my girl?” Pat pulled away softly, knowing that I wanted to same, but also wanted to be sure.

“Officially your girl,” I smiled, kissing one more time, relaxing against his chest, and rubbing his thigh while he took his phone, posting the photo everywhere he could.

I couldn’t stop smiling at it, thinking how we were just in the middle of a fight two hours ago and now here, happy as can be.

“Let’s get out of here,” he squeezed my hand once then slid out of our booth, dancing goofily while bringing me under his arm, “Our fun ain’t over.”

“Oh yeah?” I shimmied into him, giggling and being waved over with a rush at his kiss on my ear, listening to his sexy whisper:

“We’re having all kinds of fun tonight.”

That alone had me feeling hot and when we got into the car, it was so hard to contain my excitement. While driving, he was holding my hand again, but I let it wander, drifting down to his inner thigh, leaning in my seat a little, seeing how his phone was lighting up from his post.

"We're really causing a stir."

"Stirring it all up," He looked down briefly for a moment, referencing my hand more, biting his lip when I began to palm him, whispering to him:

"But never mind that. Wanna tell me about the kind of fun we're going to have?"

My whisper on top of my hand made his hard-on grow, rubbing up and down softly to feel his length, having him slouch back a little, groaning at the traffic in front of us:

"Just hang in there, baby. You're about to find out."

I noticed the traffic too and we were going to be stuck for a moment. The night sure was dark and even with all the car lights around us, it was dark in the car, so worked up that I wanted some of that fun, also wanting to make him feel good because of that fight earlier, hinting:

"Looks like we're going to be stuck in this traffic for a while, but I know a good way to kill some time."

His smile lit up the darkness around us and he was already unbuckling his seatbelt, "Yeah? How so?"

"As long as you can multi-task," I kissed his cheek softly, hand unbuttoning his jeans and slipping into his boxers, stroking his shaft softly and learning how hard he was, smiling more while we were at a stop and he pulled his pants down a little, "I know just how to kill the time and make you feel good."

"Show me," He smiled, sitting back and sighing softly at my head dropping, my lips kissing the tip of his cock, humming when I took it into my mouth, sucking hard and hollowing my cheeks shortly after.

Keeping myself low, I deep-throated all of his cock, bobbing my head quickly when I came back up, feeling his hand on the back of my head, pushing my head down a little further as I took his cock back down my throat.

"Ah, fuck," I heard him groan softly, leg shaking when he had to put his foot back on the gas pedal, easing up as I rubbed his thigh, look at him:

"I'll stop if you need me to."

Shaking his head, he focused on the road, but was still in a deep state of pleasure, "You keep those pretty lips around my dick, baby. I got this."

Smiling, I gladly listened, bobbing my head quicker than before, stroking the length of his shaft that I didn't take while sucking his tip hard, letting my tongue swirl all over it and his slit to catch a few breaths.

"You're gonna get a mouthful if you keep on doing that," He huffed, driving a little faster with a fist of my hair, feeling how he was tensing up.

"Think I have a problem with that?" Giggling, I did it more, alternating between that and deep throating again, having his cock throb softly, but we came to a stop.

"Keep it up, baby," He pushed my head softly as he parked, closing his eyes and sitting back, "I can handle more than one round."

Knowing there was going to be more after we got up to our room made me work harder, having that throbbing come back around quickly, sucking his tip again and stroking him as quickly as I could, gasping in my hum at his seed shooting into the back of my throat, looking up to see him laid back and moaning slightly at the small drops of my head while swallowing it all down.

"Wanna go start round two?" I wiped the bit of saliva off my chin as I sat up and he shot up quickly, fixing himself back into his pants, taking the keys, and hopping out with a chuckle:

"You're in for it."

Grabbing my purse, I jumped out too, rushing in and when we stepped into the elevator, he backed me into the corner, kissing and feeling all over me, proving his words to be true with how hard he grew again, making sure to grind against me to feel his hard-on.

"Get the key," I tapped his shoulder as the elevator came to a slow stop, his hand ripping it right from his back pocket and holding my hand to take me along with him to our room, opening the door and picking me up with one arm, letting the door slam shut and tossing my purse into the chair in the corner and I began to tease:

"I showed you what my mouth can do. Trying to show me what yours can?"

"Oh, I planned on it," He chuckled, following along with me as I began to throw my clothes off, but made me raise an eyebrow when he laid back on the bed, fixing his chain:

"Come lay it on me, baby."

"You want-" I started to follow, crawling on top of him and impressed by his strength, taking me by the thighs and setting me above his face.

"Time for my taste," He opened his mouth and pulled me down by the hips, kissing and licking through my folds, breathing in deep and enjoying all of the wetness against his face, growing hungrier when I began to moan, rolling my hips at the electrifying pleasure.

"Get all you want," I gasped, holding him by the hair and grinding more with his tongue shooting into me, flicking and finding that sweet bump, definitely like the grinding when his hands latched to my hips and made me rock quicker.

I could feel the wetness getting all over my thighs, hips locking from the nonstop stimulation, not even worried about needing air, only wanting me to cum right on his face and he really sent me, somehow sucking on my clit while his tongue worked up and down, pushing me up a little further when my moans got louder, signaling my orgasm.

"Sweet Jesus, Pat," I tried to keep myself as best as I could, his hands running up my stomach and holding my breasts, squeezing and keeping me upright, mouth wide open and groaning pleasurably at the drench dripping out of me.

Raising myself up to let him breathe, I was shaking, looking down to see him smiling at every part of me, noticing how my orgasm affected me:

"You're not out just yet, right?"

"You wanna give it to me?" I smiled down, squealing at the spank on my ass and how quickly he pushed me down to my back, sweeping his legs under me first so he could be on top, positioning himself and chuckling:

"Told you that you were in for it."

"I remember," I giggled, feeling his chest and moaning softly at his tip nudging and teasing my entrance, "Just turns me on so much when I hear you say it."

"I know how much you like it when I talk dirty to you," Pushing in deep put me into salacious moans, still shaking and no time to fully process my first orgasm, not a lot of time to adjust, but blown away by his quick thrusts, then the delicious burn of our hips grinding together, "Let alone when we're getting it on."

"You drive me crazy, Pat," That was truer now than ever, pulling his chain to kiss, "Fuck me up."

"Feeling naughty?" He bit my lip, smacking his hips into mine and keeping my lip in his teeth during my squealish moan, so good to relieve the slight ache in my neck when my head dropped:

"With you popping off all night, what did you expect?"

"You like seeing the bad boy side of me?" His smile on my neck turned into soft bites, marking me up and starting a series of rougher thrusts, "Bet it gets you so fucking wet."

"Hell yeah it does, baby!" Latching around him, I was jerking and shaking harder than before, the rubs on his back converting to scratches, head throwing out some wicked moans, his name the only word my brain could form.

The bed felt like it was caving in, even the immense softness of it being rattled and shifting at times, his hand gripping my ass and thigh like hell, lifting me up a little to pounder harder and thrust his cock in deeper, unable to let him go, still scratching up his back with my other hand pulled at his hair.

"Got damn, I got you tight," He snickered, lifting up my hips completely to roll his hips fast then slamming me back into the bed, planking himself a little and really going off, voice growing louder, "Cum for me, baby. I know it's there."

"Right there! It's right there, Pat!" I cried out, trying to breathe just for air to get stuck in my chest, trembles pushing out dry gasps while my walls had him fitting like an extra small glove, screaming out at the gush of heat around his cock, "Oh my god, Pat!"

"Fuck yeah, baby," He panted out, unable to hide a few moans, throbbing again from working the same pace meanwhile my orgasm drove him into an over-sensitive state too.

"You really fucked me up," My body felt so heavy with his body resting on mine, but didn't mind in the slightest, still in a dream world of pleasure, "That was so incredible, baby. Damn."

"Can't help but go wild after the night we had," He slicked his hair back and took a breath to kiss me, "And it was a damn good one." 

[darling-i-read-it]

Drunk

Arthur Morgan x fem!reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: vomit, alcohol, drunkenness

Author’s Note: I think …he is the cowboy of my dreams and I love him

Summary: You go get Arthur from the Saloon

Genre: fluff

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif)

Mary-Beth fixed her shawl and smiled up at you pleasantly.

“Thank you very much Mrs Morgan.”

“Anything for you Miss Gaskill.” You had just helped her with her dress, also returning some valuables that had been taken from her while she was up at town.

“You know, I could be a cowboy,” she said. “Like you and the men.” You smiled gracefully, shrugging.

“You could be! Just gotta get rid of those awful dresses.”

“Hey I like these here dresses. They fit my figure nicely. You look awful in those pants. And you’re wearing Arthur’s shirt.” She shook her head disapprovingly.

“Arthur’s shirts are comfortable.” “Only because you wash them regularly. Can’t say that for most of the fellas around here. He’s more than lucky to have you.”

“Oh I’m lucky to have the doof too.” You tipped your hat at her and turned around to the rest of the camp. You would likely be off when Arthur returned from…wherever he was. You were willing to bet he was in town helping some poor soul out. You walked over to your horse, wondering if perhaps you should get some rest before he returned when there was a voice coming from behind you.

“Y/N!” You whipped your head around, meeting the eye of Dutch. “Can I trouble you for a favor?” “Always Dutch.” You leaned against the hitching posts.

“I don’t feel like asking anyone else,” he said, sighing heavily. He cleared his throat. “Your husband is in town, has been for a couple days now. I hear he’s gone on a pretty heavy bender.”

“You don’t even have to ask,” you said, shaking your head. “I didn’t know he was in town otherwise I would’ve gotten him earlier.”

“I imagined you would say that. Would you like anyone's help dragging him back to camp?”

“No, I think I can handle one drunk bastard for the day,” you said, grabbing the reins to your horse. You rubbed the side of her before jumping up onto her back. “Thanks for letting me know Dutch.”

“Anytime.”

-

Your ride out to Valentine was leisurely. If Arthur had been causing chaos for a few days already then he could handle a few more minutes. You approached the saloon slowly, leaving your horse out front.

You could hear the voice of your husband already. You let out a long sigh, opening up the doors.

“I think you-” He cursed under his breath and looked back up at the man who was speaking. “-should quit talkin to me!” You giggled to yourself, looping your fingers along your belt. Arthur was leaning against the staircase, stumbling back and forth while he spoke to the equally drunken man in front of him. “Don’t fuckin look at me that way!”

You decided then to step in before a fight broke out. You stepped forward and put your hand on Arthur’s shoulder.

“Hey!” he slurred and turned around. “Woah…you look like ma wife!” You laughed gently and nodded.

“Arthur, it's me. Your wife.”

“My wife is at camp,” he told you pointedly.

“I’m right here.” “Am I at camp?”

“No. We’re in the Saloon. It’s time to go back home.” He had completely forgotten about the man beside him and it seemed the man had forgotten about him as well. You grabbed his arm so he could use you as a crutch.

“My wife is so pretty,” he whispered, words slurring together. “I love ‘er.”

“I love you too Arthur. Come on now.” You turned to the bartender and tossed him a dollar. “Thanks for not letting him die.” He gave you a sluate as you led him outside. You grabbed the reins of his horse and yours, helping him get up on your horse. You got up behind him, letting him slump back onto your shoulder.

“Darlin?” he asked as you started to ride. You moved Arthur’s horse as well so it galloped slowly beside you.

“Yes Arthur?”

“Just makin sure you’re still there,” he whispered groggily.

“Do you remember what you did tonight?”

“Nah,” he grumbled. “Got some fights.”

“Oh?”

“Won.” “Good for you.”

He was silent while you rode back and by the time you returned he was practically deadweight.

“Who’s there?!” Bill yelled as you approached the camp.

“The Morgans!” you called.

“Both of ya?”

“Yeah,” Arthur said to you sleepily. You would have waved had you not been holding Arthur up with your entire strength. The horses came to a slow stop. You slid off the horse carefully before helping Arthur down. He nearly fell over but you caught him by the stomach.

“He cause much trouble?” Dutch asked from his tent.

“Always,” you responded. You helped him lay down at your shared wagon where he quickly drifted off to sleep. You took off his hat and shrugged off his coat before leaving him alone. You walked and grabbed a cup of water alone with an empty bucket no one was using. You set it beside his bed and kissed his forehead.

-

Arthur woke up with a start. His stomach was churning and his head was pounding. He looked around. The sun was high in the sky. Everyone around him was awake. He was at camp. Had he rode back to camp? He could see his horse with the others. Before he could think of much else he felt his stomach lurch. He turned to his side where there was already a bucket waiting for him. He picked it up and stuck his hand in it.

“He’s awake,” your voice came. He was so pleased to hear it that it made him instantly feel better. Maybe that was also getting the vomit out of his system. You sat down at the edge of the makeshift bed and picked up the water cup. When his head came out of the bucket you handed it to him and brushed his hair back.

“What happened?” he asked after chugging. “How’d I get here?”

“How do you think?” He chuckled.

“You can’t always take care of me, woman.”

“I sure can try.”

“I would kiss ya but…” he gestured to his mouth and you nodded, laughing.

“I’ll wait for you to get cleaned up. I paid your tab back in Valentine but if you’re gonna get drunk at least let me come next time.” He nodded once.

“Sorry darlin. I’ll remember.”

“I sure hope so.”

[makriiii]

Caught XV (Arthur Morgan × f!reader)

Word count: 3.5k

Authors note: GUYS IM SO SORRY I LOVE YOU FORGIVE ME😭😭 THIS CHAPTER DOES NOT DISAPPOINT!! I rushed it just a bit, so there might be a few mistakes. I also have a few oneshot ideas that I both hope you'll like and that I'll get out soon. <3 ;)

Warnings: 18+, blood, cursing, alcohol, other stereotypical outlaw things.

♡

Caught XV

“I wish to god I’d passed her by…” the four of you harmonized, the sloshing of water from the sides of your boat making your voices compete with the noise level. “Taters got burnt n’ so did I! Mmm hmm mmm hmmm.”

The humming graduated into heavy chuckles between you, Arthur, Dutch and Hosea. Arthurs laugh was deep and hearty, a genuine sound you'd never heard from Arthur before and for once his eyes toward you seemed soft. You and him exchanging glances as you sang together, it was enjoyable to be with him for now.

From the way the day began, you hadn’t expected it to end like this, having this much fun singing along with these men, especially Arthur. However, given the earlier happenings, you and Arthur weren’t quite as haughty with each other - for now at least.

From the shoreline birds chirped and the sun set into heavy shades of purple, orange and yellow. Arthur's face aglow with the sun's painting, his face relaxed yet cautiously keeping his eyes from lingering on you for too long.

Once he realized you were still looking at him, he turned his hat down, erasing the light with the shadow of his hat. A small grin still peeked out from under his hat though.

Even a man as chronically grumpy as Arthur could be a bit more chipper at times. It was nice to be around him when he was like that, at least.

Before you knew it, Hosea and Dutch already had already agreed on the next song and one you well recognized from the times you spent with the O’Driscoll boys. “Well, we be three poor mariners, newly come from the seas!”

Arthur started singing along as you did, you weren't entirely sure, but he seemed to keep eyeing you.

The boat came to a sloshy, belated stop, granting you all a good position to pull out your rods and start your quest for dinner.

"I'll be redeeming my fishin' reputation today, boys." You announce proudly, casting your line out and praying for some sort of kind, large, preferably, hospitable fish to bite your hook.

Arthur scoffs and casts his out not too far from yours, giving you a competitive glare.

"See if you can outdo Arthur." Hosea remarks, attaching his lure to his line.

"You know, that actually reminds me of-"

(This is where Dutch tells everyone about Arthur's fishing story, supposedly catching a fish himself that was actually purchased. Which he doesn't like to hear as is but is even more irritated due to your presence. I was too lazy to write it and wanted to get this out sooner)

It'd been a good hour or so you lot had been out here, the sun nearly completely gone and you had caught only but a small perch.

It was looking glum for you, while Arthur was alit with delight.

"This is four. Maybe a good ten or so pounds, what do you think Dutch?"

"Good for dinner my boy, good for dinner."

You fought back a yawn as you scanned the water line, disappointed that your reputation was further tarnished. Small waves reflecting the nearly full moons light that had replaced the sun; thankfully, else it'd be pitch black.

"Y/n." Arthur coo's holding his wriggling fish out just for you to see. "I reckon it's time to get back, suppose your luck ran out today."

As you stared him down your whole body suddenly jerked forward, your hands unrelenting in their grip on your rod.

"What the hell.." You gasp out in disbelief as you start pulling your previoulsy preyed for, yet unkind and inhospitable fish in.

"Keep a hold on it, y/n!" Hosea encourages, now focused on you.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Arthur's face of grim dismay, which you couldn't help but start smirking as you did your best to win this fat fish.

You waited till it tired out, then started reeling again. As it turned out to Arthur, your fishing ability was in fact existent.

While everyone sat in silence, only broken by the sloshing water underneath, you stood fighting your second catch of the day.

It wasn't until, with another surprising yank from your prey, did you realize you were too close to the edge and your boot stuck on the side of the bench in the middle, nearly leaning off the side.

"Shit." You curse as you try to regain balance as well as keep this fish on the line.

Arthurs hands gently slid onto your waist, pulling you closer to the center of the boat. You could feel his front on you for a short bit, a shiver running up your spine as your face heated.

For a second, you thought he was going to shove you in to go swim with the fish instead. But, that - that was different.

"Thanks, princess." You grant, although with angst, as your pride was still hurt from his earlier trophies.

"Psh." He scoffs, his hands slowly slipping off your sides. "I should toss you in as bait for that."

"Quit botherin' me." You scold and with a final, persistent tug, you finally got the fish close enough to the boat. Arthur quickly obliged and assisted you with getting the big bastard out of the water.

"Well, I reckon it's about as long as you, y/n!" Dutch chortles as he marvels at your catch, his eyes switching between the two of you for comparison.

If you were anything of the fisherman you said you were, you recognized it to be a sturgeon. A massive one at that.

"Looks to be a sturgeon you got there." Hosea confirms your thought, examining it closer while avoiding the droplets of water that flew from the fish's tail.

You bubbled with excitement and pride, holding the massive thing down.

Arthur had a nearly proud look on his face as he knelt beside you, absolutely gobsmacked with your catch.

"It's fair to say I'm a decent fisher, no?" You laughed, unable to contain your excitement.

"It's fair." Arthur admits, chuckling out his surprise, not even a man as petty as him could deny it.

—

The sun had now hidden itself well beyond the horizon by the time you had gotten back camp and floated up to, what was best described as skeletal remains of a dock.

Fires were lit and dim candle lights came from the tables. A warm setting to come back to, but as much as Dutch and Hosea seemed to disregard your presence as an O’Driscoll, the rest of camp hadn’t yet come around.

As you got out of the boat behind Hosea, Arthur helped you pull out your sturgeon, but his arm, you could tell, was still a bother.

"I can carry it," you gripped onto your fish harder, leaning back with the weight as you stepped one foot over the boat.

Arthur's hand on your shoulder stabilized you as you wobbled and swayed with your fish that you were unwilling to let Arthur help with. Whether out of kindness or pride, you didn't want to admit.

"Just let me take it, I have no problem with it."

"Well, I do, so let me have my fish where I want my fish." You hugged it with all your might as you walked up into camp with your catch, careful to not let it slip out of your grasp.

He started snickering, for what reason, you couldn't tell.

“What?” You grumble, clutching your sturgeon closer.

“Don't worry about it.” He dismisses, yet still laughing.

“Don't tempt me to sin against you, Morgan.”

“There's many ways you've threatened sin,” he retorted with a sneer, “some don't sound half bad now.”

You knew what he was referring to. The remarks you had made with innuendo that could be taken in a certain way - the way Arthur always took it.

“For you, the prices have gone up indefinitely.”

He feigned a big disappointed sigh, “Should've taken my chance when you only wanted five.”

That quickly prompted a raised brow, which of course, had him laughing even more. He was supposed to be showing his disagreement.

With your fresh fish in hand and Arthur lumbering behind you with his dinky fish, Pearson perks up as he looks you both up and down with eyes wide as a dinner plate.

Arthur slightly bumps into you as he stood by you, which prompted a grandiose gesture that the size of your fish was in fact bigger and he should be acting proper.

"Did you catch that?" Almost giggling with excitement as he ushers you guys to deliver them to the cutting board.

"I suppose I did." Your grin wide as could be, this was sure to be something you could hold over Arthur for a while.

"That should feed most of camp. Well done, O’Driscoll." With his hands on his hips, he contemplates his plan with it. "You're not so bad after all."

"Well, thank you, Pearson. At least some of you think so." You elbow Arthur, a suggestion to take a note.

He huffs out a grumble and side eyes you under his hat with a shake of his head. You return that with a big shiny smile, prideful and cocky as all hell.

As you and Arthur start floating away into camp without a direction, Pearson hollers for you both to come back to him.

"Arthur! Y/n!" He calls, waving you both over. With near perfect synchrony, yours and Arthur's shoulders slumped as you realized your work was not done for today. "Do you mind helping me prepare the food for tonight? Abigail and them are busied with work Ms. Grimshaw wants done."

You showcased Arthur and offered him up, volunteering his services. "I'm sure Arthur would be up for it. Kind as he is, cover for me as well."

Swiftly, you were met with a shove forward into Pearson's kitchen get up. "I'd be so glum without you by my side, y/n. 'Fraid I can't let you go."

"Oh, aren't you just darling tonight, Arthur." You mock in a sweet tone, picking up the knife next to uncut veggies. "A gentlemanly side I never thought I'd see."

"You two are quite the entertainers, aren't you?" Pearson interrupts, seemingly unbothered by the childish banter. "You remind me of two of my old crew members..."

Arthur immediately groaned, another story he had probably heard before. Though you were so focused on belittling Arthur, kindly, of course, that Pearson's voice seemed to just fade out, all it was was you and Arthur.

As he bent over to grab the water pails, you shoved your hip into his backside, throwing him off balance but not enough to knock him over.

He hisses something out as he stands to face you, staring you down.

You wave him off with your hand and start your work with the veggies left out for you. He was sat there plotting, not doubt, staring you down before he went to the lake to fetch water.

As you cut the veggies, Arthurs remark from just moments ago lingered with you. What you had meant and what he took it for was different, so what way did he mean what he said just now?

"Just neither of them had come close to dying so many times, I guess." Pearson continues, cutting into the fish as he has many times before. "You both seem to have a knack for it."

"I'd say Arthur started my string of bad luck." You clarified just as Arthur returned back with the full pails.

"Yet without me, you'dve never made it alive." He was quick to raise a brow and lay out his point.

You shook your head. You knew it was true, in some ways. Maybe you would've bled out on those mountains, or maybe, not.

"I guess we need each other then." You hinted toward the fact that you had kept his ass from getting buzzed multiple times, but the reaction you got wasn't quite expected.

His facial expression softened, just for a second, the gaslights and dim fire light adding to his quiet gaze as he stared at you.

It was only an ever so slight change, but nonetheless enough to make your stomach flutter. You searched his face as his eyes lay still on you.

"Need me to save you," he flips the switch, not a moment longer lingering on that look he gave you. "You like me to get you out of the trouble you get into."

Your face contorted and your eyes squinted as you took the blow, a blow you full well expected, despite that small encounter you just had.

It didn't feel normal, but it hadn't not happened before between you and Arthur. There were things going on between you and this big rat of a man that shouldn't be going on.

"Hmm." You hum along, grabbing out your flask for a well deserved drink, even more so after all the quality Arthur time you had today. "That's not how I remember most of it."

He walks right up close, all the while with a haughty look on his face, the reason for it was quick to be figured.

Arthur snatches your flask right as you were about to take a swig of it, instead finishing off the last of what you had left in there.

You glared at him angry and then jabbed his side with your fingers, making him tilt over quick, trying to fend off your attacks.

"Well, hell, woman!" He chuckles, handing back your flask as he holds onto his side. "There wasn't even that much in there." He made it sound like you had promised him you'd save some for him.

—

You had done your best, you really had. Finally giving up on trying to eat the meal Pearson had made for camp.

"Oh.." Arthur groans, taking his hat off and holding it against his chest to pay his respects as he examined what Pearson had done to the fish in the stew.

You both sat there proper defeated, your prized fish in a supper that was - well, edible enough, but not by choice.

There was too much water, rendering the fish tasteless, and the broth just faintly tasting of the potato and carrot you had cut up. It was salty, as salt was also used as the substitute for all other spices.

Arthur tilted his head back, finishing his first bottle of booze that you both had rummaged for. It was enough, luckily to stave off the discontent attitude toward the dinner.

You yawned in your dreary, tipsy state as you reached for your bottle that now matched your flask. Empty.

"What're we supposed to do now?" You pout, not in your right mind, whether it was due to the stew or drinking, you were beyond being able to tell.

He scoffs, shaking his head. "Drink."

Your bottle was empty, so you weren't drinking, but he was.

You scooched closer as he hung his head back, chugging down his second drink and as soon as he set it down, you snatched it.

He made a half hearted attempt to grab it back, his hands around your wrist, yanking you lightly in his haze.

“C’mon now, y/n.” He grumbles, “let a man have his booze.”

You glanced over at him as he made next to no effort to take his bottle back, now it just seemed like his touch lingered, neglecting to pull his hands off you.

His brows rested even, relaxed, and most of all tired. His eyes reflecting the somber feeling of going hungry tonight.

As you greedily slurped up the rest of the alcohol in your hands, you suddenly felt a familiar touch.

Arthurs head fell softly on your shoulder, his weight leaning into you. He smelt of beer, fish, and grime. Probably exactly what you smelled of too but your nose so thoughtfully became blind to it.

You watched him drowsily, the occasional half drunk hiccup both of you had interrupting the otherwise complete stillness.

“Let me see your arm.” You didn't give him a chance to even oblige before grabbing it yourself.

“What-” He questions before hissing out and wincing as you prodded his wound. The fabric had done it's job with stopping the bleeding, but now the blood dried and effectively stuck to his arm. “Can't you be more kind with me now?”

“I don't reckon you've earned it, Mister Morgan.” His satchel was stuffed aside on the table, which you had no qualms with rummaging through as if it were your own.

You felt his eyes burning through you as you searched for his first aid items. Certainly questioning the gall you had to willy-nilly through his things.

The more you searched, the less you came closer to finding the gauze and ointment he kept, which had you confused. The bag he had wasn't that big.

Out of the corner of your eye, his cocky little look worked it's way back into full force.

“Maybe you'll finally let me help you?” Arthur asks, gently pulling his arm out of your lap to show you where he had it.

A tiny, badly sewn and hidden pocket near the bottom left had what you were looking for tucked away.

You considered him for a moment as he set out the things on the table in front of you, offering his arm back.

“Thanks ever so kindly.” You granted with a sarcastic drawl, tending to his arm now.

Most of camp was asleep now, the fires burning out. Soft snores and otherwise quiet conversation from some of the members still awake.

As the minutes ticked by, you finished Arthurs arm, leaving it where it was on your lap, not particularly thinking about moving it.

Sitting there with Arthur, again, on your shoulder, his quiet breathing, his completely relaxed state - it was all strange, yet so calming.

“Arthur?” You beckon in a whisper, trying to see if he was asleep, remaining still for him.

“Hm.” He musters, barely a conscious response.

The question you wanted to ask perhaps wasn't the best suited for this moment, but it was the only time you felt you'd get a truthful response.

“Why is it you let me stick around?”

That elicited more of a reaction from the drunk, sleepy Arthur at your shoulder. He turned his head to meet your eye for a second, not even bothering to remove himself from your space.

“You're a capable young lady. Useful.” His voice labored, but thoughtful. “Despite the trouble you give me for it.”

You stared at the candle on the middle of the table, waxy run off further plastering it to the table.

“You felt that outweighed the risk of me ratting you lot out?”

“Are you confessing?” He murmurs, uncaring entirely, despite the possibility your words held an admission.

“I have no bad conscience.”

He hums out a dismissal of your bothers. “Everyone will warm up to you eventually.”

That felt like it would take years. If you were so lucky.

“You think so?” You continue, hoping the future he proclaimed was to be true. “Well, I suppose you have.” You let a small chuckle out at what you were obviously pointing out, which had Arthur effectively turn to hide his face closer to your shoulder.

That had put an end to the conversation, you finally allowed him the peace to sleep. And on you, nonetheless. You recalled easily the other morning where you had given him much guff for it.

As you stared into the flickering candle light, you realized you no longer heard the rest of camp. At this point, you had no clue what time it could have possibly been.

It was this man who had gotten you here. The one you fought tooth and nail with day by day, and still the one who had your back many times over the course of just a few short months.

He ruined your life.

That was one way to put it. Ruined and completely turned the trajectory of your future. Though, as many cons as there were, the pros seemingly started to outweigh what had transpired.

He wasn’t a terribly unsightly man neither, you had to admit. And now you had him asleep on your shoulder, his arm around your torso and you were letting it happen.

But his thoughts about you were only as confusing as how you felt about him. You didn't know if he actually wanted to be around you or if he just felt responsible to watch over you, as your O’Driscoll status still flew high with the people in camp.

And that picture- the pretty lady he had kept away in his things.

The longer you sat, the less you wanted to move him. As much as you felt it was what you should do, you couldn't muster it.

Your eyelids grew heavy as the surrounding fell deeper into the darkness of night. You hesitated before your cheek rested gently atop Arthur's head.

~~~

<33

[queenxxxsupreme]

More Take Than Give (Arthur Morgan x reader)

A/N: hi! sorry for my absense! i got busy with a few things and forgot how to write :)

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: a bit angsty, some fluff

Summary: After Blackwater, things are only getting more strained between you and Arthur. 

***

The sound of floorboards creaking pulled you from your sleep. 

You brought your hand up to rub your eyes. You glanced over to the curtains, curious to know if it was morning yet. Calling them curtains was an overstatement. They were really just sheets you and Abigail had pinned up with some nails. 

Through a crack in the makeshift curtain, you could see a blue sky. The sun had yet to rise. 

You reached out for Arthur, hoping that by some chance you’d find his warm body next to you. But just as you expected, he was gone. It was a rarity to wake up to him still in bed with you. Usually, he was up before the sun, going on runs for Dutch or with someone on a job. 

You turned your head to look around the room. Your eyes caught  Arthur standing by the table between the two windows. He was half way dressed with just his jeans on, and in his hands he held a piece of paper. 

All you could see was his side profile, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t see the way he seemed to scowl at the paper. 

“Whatcha readin’?” You asked after watching him for a few moments. 

He turned his head to meet your gaze, offering you a soft smile as he took in your sleepy morning look. Your hair was a mess, the braid it had been in was long gone and the strap to your chemise was falling off of your shoulder. 

“Just a note.” He folded the paper up and put it back down on the table. “Dutch has plans for me and Micah.”

As Arthur moved towards the bed, you rolled over on to your back, eyes following him. He propped one knee up on the edge of the bed and placed his hands on either side of the bed by your head. He leaned down to kiss your forehead. His scruff created a pleasant scratchy burn on your skin as he kissed you. 

“Good mornin’, pumpkin.”

“Mmmhm.” You hummed softly, slipping your arms around his shoulders. You did your best to tug him down to you, but he resisted, using his knee to keep himself from collapsing on to you. 

“Easy there. We don’t need you startin’ something that’ll get both of us into trouble.”

“Can’t you just wait a few minutes?” You frowned. You let him go and watched as he took a few steps away from the bed. He placed his hands on his belt, eyes finding yours. “Just lay here with me. We aren’t usually in camp together most mornings, Arthur.”

“There’s good reason for that.” He chuckled softly, turning to go to one of the windows. He rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. “I’d never get outta bed if it were that way.”

You smiled. 

“What’s his plan for you and Micah?”

“Not sure. He wants me to meet up with Micah. Note said Micah will have the rest of the information.”

“I don’t want you goin’ out with Micah.” You sat up, pulling your chemise strap into place. 

“I don’t got much of a choice, pumpkin.”

You stood up from the bed and went over to where a broken mirror hung up on the wall. You raked your fingers through your hair and began to braid it back. 

“Y/N, I don’t got a choice–,”

“I know, Arthur.”

“Then why are you mad at me?”

You shook your head softly. 

“Because sometimes…. Sometimes I’d like to have a day to forget.”

Arthur let out a soft sigh. He moved to sit on the edge of the bed, running his hand over his face. 

“A day for us.”

“I know. I know.” He nodded. “I’ll see if I can figure somethin’ out. But with the Pinkertons and Dutch–,”

“I know.” You finished the braid and turned to face him. “I know.”

He looked up at you. 

“If you know, then why are you gettin’ so upset?”

“I’m allowed to be upset, Arthur.” You moved across the room to sit on the bed next to him. You tucked one leg underneath yourself and faced him. “I’m allowed to be upset that we don’t get the things we want. This is the first time in a long time that we’ve had privacy away from everyone and we haven’t even gotten time to ourselves.”

“I know.” He slipped his hand around the back of your head and pulled you closer to him so that he could kiss your head. “But we will in due time, pumpkin. Things are just…. up in the air right now.”

“I know.”

“Arthur!” Someone called from downstairs. 

“That’s Susan.” He muttered, standing to his feet. He made his way to the door so he could poke his head. “I’ll be down in just a second, Mrs. Grimshaw!”

“You better!”

Arthur closed the door and turned back to face you. You had gotten up from the bed to get a shirt for him. 

“Duty calls, Mr. Morgan.” You held the shirt open for him. 

“Hey.” He frowned, taking the shirt from you and placing it aside. “Don’t get that tone with me.”

“I don’t have a tone.”

“Yes, you do.” Arthur placed two fingers underneath your chin and tilted your head up. “You are my number one priority, you know that?”

You said nothing as you gazed up at him. When he said nothing else, you grabbed the shirt and held it open for him. 

“You best finish getting dressed. Don’t need Mrs. Grimshaw coming up here.”

He slipped one arm carefully through each sleeve, momentarily turning his back to you. But then he was facing you, blue eyes intensely staring down at you. 

You tried to look down so you could button up his shirt but he held your chin a little more firmly between his thumb and index. 

“You know that, don’t you?” His thumb ghosted over your skin. His brows drew together ever so slightly. 

“Sometimes it don’t feel like it.” You admitted softly. “They call for you. You go. They need something from you, anything from you, and you give it to them. They need you to run out for them, you’ll do it. Whether it’s across town or across the damn country, you’ll drop everything and do it. If they asked for the shirt off your back, you’d give it to them. You…. You’re too good of a man for those folks, Arthur Morgan.”

“Well, clearly I ain’t that good of a man if my lady doesn’t think she’s important to me.” He let his hand fall from you and took a step back.

“Arthur.” You reached out to take his hand. “I know I am important to you. But you don’t…. don’t think about yourself first. So that means you come to bed late and sometimes I never see you.”

“I’ve got to take care of these people, Y/N. Of the girls and John and his family–,”

“I know you do.” You murmured, nodding your head. “But who is going to take care of them if you run yourself into the ground?”

Arthur said nothing. 

You turned to go back to the bed. 

“It’s still early. I’m going to get some sleep.” Your words were quiet, but he heard you anyway. You knew you wouldn’t be able to sleep. You’d probably get up just after he left and go down to one of the fires for coffee. But right now, you didn’t want to keep fighting with him. 

You settled onto the bed with your back to Arthur. 

He let out a breath through his nose as he buttoned up his shirt. 

He moved to kneel down by the edge of the bed, placing his hand on your arm. 

“I love you, pumpkin.” 

You felt him kiss the back of your head. 

You placed your hand over his that rested on your arm. 

“I got a bad feelin’ about whatever Dutch is plannin’. I’m not…. I’m not sure what’s goin’ on in his head, but I’ve gotta make sure the girls, Hosea, and John and his family are okay.”

“Love you too, bear.” You squeezed his fingers. “Be safe.”

He smiled softly before standing up and moving towards the door. On his way out, he picked up his hat that rested on the table.

Taglist:  @winterwolf @lauramb7 @caraqas @bluscryn @krenee1drful @zodiacaldust @nonodino @cal-lifornication @thefirelordm @sargeantsea @sokkasdarling @thecollection @mayday1284 @kashasenpai @misskrql @brooke-supernatural16 @lassiee @hocdolliday @antoinette-2131  @micahs-bird

If your name is in italics, it wouldn’t let me tag you :(

[ttuesday]

my i trouble u for some soft headcannons for the VDL boys?? 🥺 🥺 ur writing is amazing and always cheers me up 💕 💕

awwwwwwww

Arthur

Arthur’s very comfortable around you so sometimes when he’s sat next to you and doodling in his journal, he’ll start to sing to himself.

If you compliment his voice, he starts blushing and stutters over his words but he’s grateful for your praise.

One of Arthur’s favourite things is when you and him are both cuddling in bed and he tells you about his day. Usually he just rambles about something while ye fall asleep but it always relaxes him and it makes him feel like a normal person and not an outlaw.

Dutch

Dutch loves dancing with you. One night when ye were both in Saint Denis after a job, Dutch heard the trumpet player preforming. He asked if you’d dance with him. The street was quiet and it was as if it was just the two of you and the music.

Dutch never understands how you could ever feel insecure or self-conscious. While you sit on his bed, Dutch kneels in front of you and listens intensely as you vent. Afterwards he holds your hand and tells you every little thing he loves about you.

When you both wake up in the morning, Dutch likes to lazily give you some kisses before getting up to face the day.

Charles

One of Charles’s favourite things to do is kiss up your body. He starts at your leg, goes up your thigh, your torso, your chest and then your neck before finally reaching your lips. As he kisses along you, he mutters compliments about how amazing you are.

If you ever fall asleep by the campfire, Charles will carefully pick you up and carry you to bed. 

Charles is so goddamn protective over you. Literally all you have to do is point at someone and Charles will throw them into Flat Iron Lake and go make sure you’re ok. 

Micah

Micah absolutely HATES when people go at his things… but you’re the exception to that rule. If you’re sitting down at the campfire or helping Pearson cook the stew, Micah normally comes over and puts his hat on your head.

It’s his way of ‘subtly flirting’ and he encourages you to wear his hat, telling you it suits you and that it makes you look like a real outlaw.

Micah can get emotional when he’s drunk but it’s the one time he truly tells you how much you mean to him. He knows he’s lucky to have met you and no matter what, he wants you by his side forever.

John

We all know John isn’t the best at art but he loves practising his drawing skills but sketching pictures of you. Sure, most of his drawings look like Jack’s done them but it’s the thought that counts... right?

John loves relaxing with you. In the evening, he sits down under a tree with you and watches life go by. It’s very simple but it’s comforting. 

John isn’t a fan of people going at his hair but he doesn’t mind it when you run your fingers through his hair. He’s even let you put a small plait into his hair once.

Bill

Bill purposely leaves his shirts lying around in the hopes that you’ll wear them. The sight of you in his shirt makes his heart soft and another part of his body very hard.

Bill never really had the time for baths but now that he’s dating you he makes sure to schedule in times to have a bath. Of course you’ll be in the bath too.

When he’s had a few drinks, Bill usually gets tired very fast so there has been a few times where he’s fallen asleep with his head resting on your lap.

Javier

Whenever you feel sad, Javier will try everything to cheer you up. He’ll sing to you, make some jokes, give you hugs and tell you funny stories about robberies he messed up in the past.

Javier was determined to help you learn the guitar when you first joined the gang. Yeah, he was using it as a way to spend more time with you and you didn’t learn much about the guitar but Javier still sees it as being a success.

If you ever get hurt, Javier prides himself on becoming Doctor Escuella and bandaging you up. Even if you just accidentally cut your finger while playing five finger fillet, Javier will take it seriously and take good care of you.

Sean

Sean loves to play fight with you. He brags about how amazing his fighting skills are and that he could show you a thing or two to help improve your skills. But of course he always lets you win.

You don’t need a blanket when you’re dating Sean. This man will literally sleep on top of you to keep you warm. I mean, he adores cuddling so he’ll fall asleep on you anyways but he says he does it to keep you warm.

He has tried to serenade you before. Sean paid Javier a few dollars to play the guitar while he loudly sang to you but Sean had to stop when Miss Grimshaw started yelling at him for being so noisy.

Hosea

Hosea absolutely adores soft kisses, especially when you’re both around camp and he sneakily gives you a quick kiss when no one’s looking.

Hosea has learned that patience is truly a virtue so whenever you’re stress or having a bad day, he knows it’s best to wait until you’re ready to vent instead of asking you a million questions about what’s wrong.

If you ever have any problems, all you need to do is tell Hosea. He gives you a small hug and reassures you that everything will be ok. And by the next morning, Hosea has somehow worked out your problem for you.

Lenny

When you can’t sleep, Lenny goes and gets you a blanket and your favourite book. He wraps the blanket around you both and reads to you until you finally drift off.

If he goes on a job away from camp and Lenny knows he’ll be away for a few days then he makes sure to leave little notes around camp for you to find. The majority of the notes are Lenny reminding you that he loves or a inside joke only you would understand.

Every morning Lenny goes and gets you tea/ coffee (whichever one you prefer, or maybe water if you’d prefer that).