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moeitsu · 6 months

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The Tie Which Linked My Soul To Thee

Summary: Welcome to Horseshoe Overlook

Ao3 Wattpad Masterlist - All Chapters Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.4 Ch.5 Ch.6 Ch.7 Ch.8 Ch.9 Ch.10

Tags: Arthur Morgan/Original Female Character, Widowed, Original Character, Mutual Pining, Slow Build, Eventual Smut, Eventual Romance, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, High Honor Arthur Morgan, Friends to Lovers, Child Loss, Trauma, Canon-Typical Violence, Arthur Morgan Does Not Have Tuberculosis, Arthur Morgan Deserves Happiness, Chubby Arthur Morgan, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence

Ch 3 - The Suns Low Down The Sky

Arthur escorted Kate to Dutch’s tent first, where the other gang members looked on curiously. Jack leapt into his mother's arms, as she eyed the mystery woman who rode in with her son. Arthur explained the situation to Dutch, introducing Kate as a traveler heading west, planning to stay for only a few days.

“Nonsense!” Dutch laughed heartily. “Drifter, outcast, or outlaw, whatever you may be, Miss McCanon, you’re welcome to stay as long as you’d like. We only ask that you pitch in with meals and chores.” He smiled, taking a puff from his cigar.

Kate nodded gratefully. “That's very kind of you, Mr. Van der Linde,” she replied.

“Please, call me Dutch,” he insisted. Kate reciprocated the informalities.

Dutch continued, “Arthur, show our new friend here where she can settle her things. Then come find me afterward; I’d like to discuss these Pinkertons you’re so worked up about.” He spoke casually, as if discussing the weather.

Arthur led Kate to a small clearing next to the ladies' tents, where they whispered among themselves. Though Kate felt like an outcast among the group, she hoped to get to know them better, especially the other women. It had been a long time since she’s had the company of fellow girls. Even though she was still unsure about just how long she would remain here.

“You get yourself settled,” Arthur said warmly, “I’m gonna go speak with Dutch. I’ll come find you for dinner.” He bid her farewell, Kate nodded and set to work unpacking her few belongings—a tent cloth, bedroll, and a small bag of clothes. She chose to travel light, since she had no wagon to pull.

From the adjacent tent, two heads peeked out with nervous giggles. One woman had a head full of curls and a face full of freckles, while the other was dark-skinned and wore a vibrant yellow dress. They whispered amongst each other before addressing Kate.

“Hello,” Kate said, feeling a hint of sudden nervousness, it really had been awhile since she was around so much company.

“Hi Miss,” said the curly-haired girl, “are you Arthur’s new mistress?” She asked with a giggle.

Kate’s eyes widened in surprise and her cheeks tinted red, she hadn't thought about what the situation looked like to the other members. A strange woman riding in with one of the men, of course they would think she was a prostitute. Yet she was a little flattered, she did not feel nearly as pretty enough to be considered as such.

Kate used to be all “ladylike” back in the days when she was tending to her husband and daughter. But she's always been more on the rugged side, she stood about 5 foot 10 inches, and had wide shoulders and thick thighs like sturdy tree trunks. All the years on the open plains she's gained muscle in places she didn't even know she had. But the beginning of her journey west is what really hardened her, she shuddered at the memory.

“No, no, I assure you it’s nothing like that,” she clarified. .

“Oh, quit it, Mary-Beth,” the girl in yellow scolded, stepping out from the tent. “My name's Tilly. Nosey Nelly over here is Mary-Beth.”

Kate chuckled softly, relieved by Tilly's playful interruption. "Nice to meet you both," she said, offering a warm smile. "I'm Kate. And no, I'm not Arthur's mistress. Just passing through, like he said.” She restated, taking a good look at the two girls, she noticed they were incredibly young. Tilly couldn't be much older than 18, and Mary-Beth only looked a handful of years older. The faces were full of youth, and eyes still bright with hopes and dreams. She wondered how two beautiful young women ended up with a gang of outlaws. She prayed it was nothing nefarious.

Mary-Beth blushed, realizing her bluntness. "Sorry about that," she mumbled sheepishly.

Tilly waved off the apology with a grin. "Don't mind her. She's a hopeless romantic always jumping to conclusions," she explained, shooting a teasing glance at her friend.

"It's alright," Kate assured them, continuing to unpack her belongings. "I'm just grateful for a place to rest for a few days."

"Well, you're welcome here," Tilly said warmly. "We might be a ragtag bunch, but we look out for each other." The girls smiled in unison. It was clear they were eager to make a new friend.

Kate nodded, feeling a sense of security and camaraderie with the girls already. "Thank you Tilly. I really appreciate it."

“Can we introduce you to the others?” Mary-Beth inquired. Kate put down the bed roll she was spreading out and wiped her hands. She took a look around the camp and saw people milling about doing all sorts of activities. Some were cooking, some cleaning, others sat by a fire while two played dominos at a nearby table. She couldn't see him, but she knew Arthur would be inside the large canvas tent with Dutch and Hosea discussing the encounter by the river.

“That would be nice,” she answered with a nod. Mary-Beth lept at the opportunity and linked her arm with Kates, the gesture took her by surprise.

“Oh, it's so nice to have another woman around here. C’mon, I’ll introduce you to the girls first,” Mary-Beth exclaimed, her excitement infectious.

Kate couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm; this was slowly becoming exciting for her too. Together, the three of them strolled a short distance to a larger tent near a crackling fire. Jack sat on the ground, drawing shapes in the dirt with a stick, his eyes lighting up when they approached. Kate recognized the woman beside him as his mother from their earlier encounter. She wore a worn blue dress covered by a long plaid-brown trench coat, busy sewing Jack's sleepwear.

“Hello, Miss,” Kate greeted politely, acknowledging Abigail's tired smile. “I’ve had the pleasure of meeting your boy already. He's a wonderful kid.”

Abigail nodded gratefully, the weariness evident in her eyes. “Jack told me all about his adventures,” she paused her sewing to shake Kate's hand. “I’m Abigail.”

Kate returned the handshake warmly. “It's a pleasure, Abigail.”

As they moved on, Mary-Beth leaned close to Kate's ear, her voice hushed. “Abigail’s been under a lot of pressure lately,” she confided. “Her husband, well, I guess they're not technically married. Anyways, John hasn’t been the best father to Jack. She worries about her boy a lot.”

Kate's sympathy for Abigail deepened. Motherhood was challenging, even under the best circumstances, and she couldn't imagine the strain of raising a child in their risky situation. She wondered if this had anything to do with why Arthur took Jack fishing. Maybe he was trying to give his mother a break. She hoped to offer her support to Abigail when the opportunity arose.

Approaching the tree line, they encountered a blonde woman holding a rifle, evidently on guard duty. Kate noted the caution in her stance, understanding their wariness toward strangers.

“Well, who do we have here?” the woman greeted, her tone wary.

Mary-Beth took the lead in introducing Kate. “This is Kate, she’s our newest member!” she announced.

Karen eyed Kate suspiciously, her grip on the rifle tightening slightly. “Newest member, huh?” she said bluntly.

Kate raised her hands in a friendly gesture. “I’m just passin’ through, only staying for a night or two,” she explained. “I’m uh - a friend of Arthur’s.” She wasn't sure why the words came out so strange.

“I’m Karen,” she replied tersely. “Sorry if we don't take kindly to strangers. It's been real hard these past couple weeks.” Mary-Beth nodded in agreement. “I best get back to my lookout, holler when dinners ready.” She added, turning around and heading back into the thicket of trees.

As they returned to camp, the aroma of meat stew filled the air, and the fire crackled brighter with the encroaching darkness. People began claiming their seats by the fire's warm glow. Kate scanned the camp but saw no sign of Arthur, she figured he must still be with Dutch. She hoped he was alright after his encounter with the Agents, though she understood his agitation. If he truly was an outlaw, then any government official would probably trigger his flight or fight. She wanted to ask him about it, and ask him what happened.

She longed to hear his side of the story, but she knew it wasn't her place to pry. If he chose to confide in her, she would listen eagerly. After all, sharing stories was what kept her journey alive, each encounter offering a new perspective and enriching her travels. In return, she kept their memory alive, as they lived on through her.

As Mary-Beth led her to a spot by the fire, a formidable older woman with a head full of gray hair strode over, her voice carrying the weight of authority.

“Mary-Beth, I swear to the Lord above if those clothes aren’t washed by tomorrow morning I will—” she halted mid-sentence, her gaze landing on Kate. “Oh, hello dear. Who might you be?” Straightening her dress and tucking a stray hair behind her ear, she composed herself before the stranger.

“Miss Grimshaw, this is Kate McCanon. She’s going to be staying for a few days,” Mary-Beth introduced, a hint of hesitation in her voice.

Kate realized that Miss Grimshaw must be the matriarch of the camp, responsible for keeping things in order. She offered a warm smile. “It's a pleasure, Miss Grimshaw,” she said, extending her hand for a shake. “I’m very grateful to be welcomed here. Whatever you need me to do will be done, be it cleaning, cooking, hunting—you name it. Anything I can do to repay the kindness.”

Miss Grimshaw seemed pleased by Kate’s graciousness. “Well, my oh my, if only the other girls had as much responsibility as you, young lady, then maybe we wouldn’t be living in this dump,” she chuckled. “Well, enjoy your evening, dear. The work can wait until tomorrow.”

Kate nodded her thanks, noting Mary-Beth's subtle eye-roll as Miss Grimshaw walked away. As the dinner bell rang, a heavyset man by the chuck wagon announced that dinner was ready. Mary-Beth informed Kate that he was Mr. Pearson, the camp cook.

The two of them lined up and filled their bowls, then settled by the fire. Kate found herself between Mary-Beth and Tilly, enjoying the warmth and the chatter of the camp. As the commotion continued, she spotted three men emerging from Dutch’s large tent. Among them was Arthur, making his way over to join them at the fire.

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Arthur left Dutch’s tent feeling irritated. He laid out the entire situation to him and Hosea—the Pinkertons, Milton’s offer, everything. He stressed that they were being watched, that danger lurked closer than they might realize.

Dutch had questioned his decision to refuse the offer, which Arthur found absurd. Why would he betray his own for a deal with the devil? He was raised not to trust the government and this camp was the closest thing he had to a family, and he’d sooner face down the law than betray them.

The conversation echoed in his mind, “ What's our move, Dutch? ” Arthur had asked, desperation creeping into his voice. Dutch's response was predictably vague, “ We do nothing, son, ” he asserted, “ They want us scrambling, like headless chickens, but we will stand our ground. We just need a bit more cash, then we’ll set sail east. ” Hosea sighed in resignation—“ Have faith ,” Dutch added, as if it were a magic word.

Arthur had never once doubted Dutch or Hosea, they were the people who clothed him, fed him, and protected him from a very young age, but he was beginning to wonder when the robbing and running would end. They had already lost Mac, Davey, and young Jenny. This life was not a safe one, and everyday he wonders if it will be his last.

He bid them farewell and exited the tent, he made his way towards the fire and spotted Kate eating dinner and integrating herself with the gang. He noticed her smile as he tipped his hat in greeting, and sat on a log opposite from her.

“Looks like you've made yourself at home, Miss McCanon,” Arthur remarked with a friendly grin, not revealing any of the stress that weighed heavy on his shoulders.

“Kate,” she corrected him, casual and warm, “and yes, everyone's been lovely. I’m grateful for the company,” she replied, spooning up some stew.

“So, where is it you come from?” Lenny chimed in, initiating the conversation.

“I was born up north, near Boston. I lived there for about 20 years before traveling southwest,” she answered truthfully. Arthur noted this must be why her accent was different from most people around these parts.

“Long way from home!” Javier exclaimed, joining the conversation, “I’ve always wanted to see the north, I hear it's beautiful,” he looked up, picturing the image in his head.

Kate nodded and hummed an answer as she remembered her home, “it's very green and mountainous.”

Lenny’s voice chimed in again, “what brought you out this way? If ya dont mind me asking.” He said politely.

Kate inhaled a breath and shook her head slightly, “it's quite a long story. Suffice to say, there’s nothing left for me up there. Ain't got no family, no land or property.” She said as her expression darkened briefly.

“How come a pretty thing like you ain't married eh?” The Irish man, Sean, quipped from his seat across from her, his voice lubricated with ale. He was more than a little tipsy, already on his fourth beer of the night. Arthur tensed at his comment, Sean had a knack for stirring trouble with his loose tongue. To his surprise Kate laughed and met his banter with her own.

“Well, you see Sean, I’m just waiting for a man who can match my charm. But they seem as rare as a sober Irishman in a pub.” She shot back with a playful wink. Arthur couldn't help but chuckle.

Sean let out a whooping laugh and slapped his leg, “oh she’s a feisty Lass!” he hollered, “what’s a woman like you doing with a grumpy old bastard like Arthur? Maybe you’d like to take your chances with a handsome young gentleman such as myself.” Sean shimmied his body insinuating something nefarious. Kate only laughed and shook her head.

Arthur couldn't help but join in, “I shoulda let you hang,” he said with a snicker, masking his annoyance, “and we met on a job a few weeks back. Ran into her again down by the river when I was fishin’ with the kid.” He explained, taking a swig of his drink, he didn't want Kate to think he had any ulterior motive based on Sean’s comment.

They continued to chat together, but the conversation shifted from being about Kate to whatever absurd tale Uncle was telling. Arthur’s peace was interrupted for the third time that day by the sound of hooves approaching.

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Kate leaned back against the log and placed her empty bowl beside her. Content after a warm hearty meal. She listened with content as the other members of the camp shared stories amongst each other.

Her gaze lingered over to Arthur, who seemed lost in thought whilst looking deep in the fire. He wrung his hands together and Kate noticed he did not grab dinner for himself. Before she could offer to fill him a bowl they all turned to the sound of hooves.

Three men were returning to camp, with a woman following behind them. She noticed, unlike the other ladies of the camp, the woman was wearing trousers, and carrying iron on her hip, she made a note to introduce herself later. Next to her, Tilly pointed out the new arrivals. The one with shaggy black hair was John, Jack’s father and Abigail’s not-so husband. He dismounted and immediately went to his tent, where Abigail was eating with Jack. The other two men were heavier, and rougher looking. Tilly said their names were Bill and Micah. The one called Bill helped himself to the stew, while the one she called Micah caught Dutch’s attention and they entered his tent together. That just left the woman, Tilly explained that she was a widow they rescued in the Grizzlies. O’Driscoll’s had killed her husband, and Micah accidently set her cabin aflame. She dismounted and pulled a white envelope from her satchel.

Approaching Arthur she held out the paper, “for you.” She said handing him the letter, “from a woman, uh, Mary Linton, I think.” He nodded and took the envelope, opening its contents. Kate was suddenly curious about this Mary woman.

The woman, Sadie, tipped her hat at Kate and Tilly before grabbing a bowl of stew and retreating back to her tent. A woman of few words, Kate recalled.

She tried to watch the fire and go back to listening to the stories, but her gaze lingered on Arthur, whatever this woman said in her letter gave him a sorrowful expression. Abruptly he stood up, shoving the paper in his back pocket, and walked away. Kate was a little disappointed he didn't say goodnight, or give any acknowledgement. She had the idea to bring him some food later to cheer him up.

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Over an hour had passed and Kate was confident she knew all the camp members now, after everyone shared tales and fun memories of one another. The only people missing were Charles, who Tilly informed her he often went out hunting, and Kieren, who hasn't really integrated himself with the others yet. It was getting late, and she needed to feed and tend to her horse before resting herself. She bid her farewell to everyone and made her way over to her beloved mare Lorena. Briefly stopping by her tent to grab an apple for her, and a peach for Arthur. She would have to pass his tent on her way, so she figured she would offer the food then, if he wasn't already asleep.

To her surprise he wasn't on his cot, perhaps he went for a ride she thought. She continued on to find her mare with the other gang's horses near the entrance to their camp. Lorena greeted her excitedly, it had only been a few hours since she last saw her, but her baby had always been clingy.

“How ya doin’ girl,” she cooed, scratching her snout. She reached around and undid the saddle strapped to her back, “let's get this heavy thing off ya so you can rest properly.” She said pulling the saddle down. Lorena let out a happy huff in response.

Kate reached into her satchel pulling out a small blade, she tenderly cut small pieces from the apple and fed them to her horse. While she fed her she sang a soft tune, almost like a lullaby, to ease her mares nerves and settle her in for the night.

This house, she’s holding secrets.

I got my change behind the bed,

In a coffee can I can throw my nickels in.

Just in case I have to leave.

She sliced another piece of the apple and Lorena lapped it from her hand, nudging her snout into Kate’s hair, making her laugh. She continued on with her song as the quiet of the night sang its own gentle tune.

I will go if you ask me to,

I will stay if you dare.

And I go, I’m goin’ shameless.

Let my hunger take me there.

Lorena let out a soft, breathy whinny, her body growing visibly relaxed. Kate watched the other horses as she sang, most of them paid her no mind, lazily grazing on the little tufts of grass that the overlook had to offer them. She noticed Arthur’s mare, Belle, standing near a tree about a yard away. She watched them wearily, probably interested in the apple Kate was feeding. She was a beautiful white Arabian, and a stark contrast to her own black beauty, as Arthur had called her.

She paused her tune and clicked her tongue, inviting his horse to join her. Lorena stomped a hoof in protest but Kate ignored. She wanted to feed his beautiful horse, and get to know her.

“Nice to see you again, pretty girl,” she said when Belle came around the tree she was hiding near. She cut another slice of the apple and Belle sniffed her palm before gently taking the piece from her.

While feeding the two horses and gently running her fingers through their manes, she finished her song.

I will go if you ask me to.

I will stay if you dare.

And if I go, I’m goin’ crazy.

Let my darlin’ take me there.

Kate doesn't remember how she discovered it, but since the day she’s had Lorena her voice always had an effect on her horse. Maybe it was because she was the first to show her mare kindness, being rescued as a young filly taken from her mother too soon. Kate had always been a bit of a singer, her father taught her to play guitar, and her mother would often sing lullabies to her siblings when they were little. She picked it up somewhere along the way in life, it was a comfort for her. One of the last things she has of her family was their love for music, and she always carried that with her.

“That was real pretty,” a rugged voice said from the ground, a few feet away from where Kate stood. She yelped and jumped back, in the moonlight she could just barely make out Arthur’s figure resting against the tree that Belle had been standing by.

“Arthur, you scared the shit out of me! I’m surprised Lorena didn’t take off again!” She scolded. Grabbing her mare’s reins as if she were about to bolt.

He chuckled and stood up, brushing his jeans, “well Lorena already knew I was here,” he said in a hushed voice, almost teasing.

Kate blushed and realized he was right, the horses knew he was there, she was the one who didn't look down. “Sorry,” she admitted, “but you really did scare the daylight out of me,” she laughed, feeling less embarrassed now. “I um, noticed you didn't have dinner with us tonight,” she said changing the subject.

Arthur sighed and scratched the back of his neck, “uh yeah, just wasn't hungry is all.” He said bluntly.

“Are you alright?” Kate asked flat-out, Arthur blinked in surprise at her question, “the letter you received earlier, I noticed it made you upset.” She explained.

Arthur let out a breath, “oh that, it’s…complicated,” he admitted.

“I see. I won’t pry if you don’t want to talk about it,” she said, reaching into her satchel and pulling out the fresh peach she had brought him. “I brought you a snack, in case you were hungry. I was gonna bring it to your tent but you weren’t there,” she smiled handing him the treat.

Arthur’s heart leapt at the gesture. It had been a long time since someone paid attention to him like this. Sure everyone at the camp always asks how he is or how his day went, what he’s up to and what not. Aside from his short talks with Tilly and Mary-Beth. The rest of the gang never seemed to notice when he doesn't eat, or when he’s not at camp. When he was in a sour mood they avoided him like the plague, and when he was upset Dutch would just say, “chin up, boy.” He was the right hand man of the gang leader, but he always felt invisible. Like he was nothing more than a big dumb strong arm.

“That really for me?” He said, unable to hide the smile in his voice, “peaches ain’t even in season, where'd you get this?”

“A man from Georgia came through Emerald ranch the other day, he was selling a bunch of fruit so I bought some peaches,” she explained. She went back to cutting slices of her apple and feeding them to Lorena.

Arthur held the peach in his hands as if he were admiring the plushy soft flesh, “thank you,” he said sincerely.

“Don't mention it,” she replied warmly. Arthur held the peach and watched Kate feed her horse while he stroked his mare with his free hand.

“I meant what I said earlier, ‘fore I scared you,” he said quietly, “the song, well, your voice, is real pretty,” he complimented again.

Kate laughed quietly, “thank you Arthur, It's something I've always found comfort in.”

“I heard you singin’ for her when we was back at Emerald ranch,” he continued, “you must have a special bond with that horse.” He looked at Lorena who was breathing quietly and closing her eyes as Kate scratched under her jaw.

“Lorena and I have a complicated history,” she began, “she was just a filly when I got her, scared and alone, and I was, well I was pretty much the same,” she added quietly, not wanting to reveal too much emotion in her tone, “I guess her and I needed each other more than we realized.”

Arthur sensed her discomfort and began telling her about his own mare, “well that's more than I can say about Belle,” he started with a half laugh to ease the tension, “She found me in the Grizzlies about a month ago, I was stuck between a rock and a hard place when,” he paused a moment and looked somber as he reflected on the memory, “when my old horse Bodasia didn't make it through the snow storm, I thought I was going to die too.” He patted Belle affectionately. “That's when she found me, I could barely make out between her white coat and the snow. But she wasn't scared of me, came right up to me as if she was sayin’ follow me, I’ll get you out of here .”

Kate watched as Arthur nuzzled his horse lovingly, it always warmed her heart to see people have such deep bonds with their horses. They were incredible animals, and very in tune with their owners' own emotions. For Belle to trust Arthur from the beginning, and stand by his side since, he must be a very special man.

“That's beautiful, she chose you Arthur. That bond is stronger than anything you could have bought from a stable or caught in the wild.” She said somberly.

Arthur nodded in agreement, the two tended to their horses in a comfortable silence. The sound of the night’s chorus around them.

After a moment, Arthur spoke up again, “the letter was from my old flame, Mary,” he began, his voice tinted with quiet sadness. Kate realized he was comfortable enough to open up to her about it, she dared not interrupt. “She's….she's askin’ for my help.”

“What kind of help?” Kate asked softly.

Arthur sighed and shook his head, “She's in a tough spot,” he explained, his gaze distant as he recounted Mary's plea for assistance. "Her family's facing trouble, and she's desperate for someone to turn to."

"Sounds like she trusts you," Kate remarked, offering him a sympathetic look.

Arthur nodded, his expression conflicted. "We had our moments," he admitted, a hint of nostalgia in his voice. "But things didn't end well between us."

“I’m sorry to hear that,” she spoke.

He sighed heavily, his gaze drifting to the ground. "Yeah, well, sometimes things just don't work out the way we hope," he replied, his voice tinged with regret.

Kate could sense the weight of his words, the burden of past regrets bearing down on him. She reached out a hand, placing it gently on his arm in a gesture of comfort. "You can't blame yourself for everything, Arthur," she said softly. "People change, circumstances change. It's just a part of life."

For a moment, they sat in silence, lost in their own thoughts as the night enveloped them in its embrace. After a while, Arthur spoke up again, his tone more subdued. "I don't know what to do, Kate," he admitted, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "Part of me wants to help Mary, but another part...well, another part just wants to leave the past behind and move on."

Kate nodded sympathetically, understanding the internal struggle he was facing. "It's not an easy decision to make," she acknowledged. "But whatever you choose, just make sure it's what's best for you."

Arthur let out a weary sigh, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "Yeah, easier said than done," he muttered, his brow furrowed in contemplation.

"You'll figure it out, Arthur," she reassured him, her voice filled with conviction. "If life didn't give us second chances, then we would all be alone. We rely on each other, lean on each other, to make it through the tough times. Helping others isn't a weakness, it's a testament to our humanity. Even if they've hurt us in the past.”

Arthur offered her a grateful smile, "Thanks, Kate," he said softly, his voice tinged with gratitude. "I appreciate that more than you know."

With a nod of understanding, Kate squeezed his arm reassuringly before returning her attention to Lorena. Together, they sat in companionable silence, the sound of the forest as their backdrop. After a moment, Arthur retrieved the peach from his satchel, its juicy aroma filling the air as he bit into its sweet flesh. Lost in thought, his mind wandered to the woman who had unexpectedly entered his life and stirred emotions he thought long buried.

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bucky-h0e · 7 months

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A/N: The start of Bucky and Alpine's adventure in the 40s! I hope you all enjoy, please interact with the post if you do! I am always open to feedback

warnings: canon level descriptions of violence and injury, minor character death, illegal activities (Alpine is lying to everyone), Bucky and Alpine having a rough relationship tbh, Alpine bullies Peggy in the beginning, grieving Alpine is sad

Pimp My... Buzz Wagon? | Masterlist

Alpine Joins The Howling Commandos

Peggy knew as soon as she met the other Howling Cammandos that they would be a rag-tag group of troublemakers for the SSR

as soon as she saw them in that bar

drunk off their asses and singing like the drunkards they are, not a care in the world

she just knew

so when Steve put together this team and she had gone for her own little investigation and seen there was no medic on said team

she realises that although Steve is courageous, brave, loyal and trust worthy

a good man

he was also a bloody idiot

so, she another little investigation and found a medic for the team

Steve can heal as fast as he likes but he still has teammates with regular healing abilities that may require medical assistance

now Peggy des have a little crush on America's Golden Boy (fucking understatement of the decade) so she's a little particular about the medic she chooses

she wants them to be well read, keeping up to date with all medical advancements that had been happening throughout the war

she wanted them to be quick on their feet and not scared to improvise - lord knows they'd have to do a lot of that with the new weaponry being built by HYDRA

so when she hears of Doctor Andrew Doe, a Korean-American doctor making a name for himself in the front lines by experimenting and sharing his findings with the allied forces

she knows that this is the guy

imagine her surprise when she gets to the bases records show he's supposed to be in to find him gone

she'd managed to get a hold of someone, a young man looking as if he were in a rush but not wanting to be rude to the pretty lady who had ordered him to stand at attention

"Where is Dr Doe, I need to speak with him."

"I'm sorry ma'am, he died a few days ago."

well shit

there goes that plan

"His daughter has taken over his research and then some. Names Miss Alpine Doe. She's young looking, but the document's are legitimate."

oh great

so now her option is a young looking girl who needed her documents checking

just fantastic

how could it get worse?

"How young?"

"Certificate says 18 years ma'am."

a fucking child

brilliant

"Well then. Do you know where she is?"

"Yes ma'am, she was called out to one of the nearby bunkers, they got wound-"

a buzzing interrupts them, the unmistakable sounds of a siren and a vehicle honking as men surrounding them rush to the open area

the truck skids to a halt and the back doors burst open, a young girl climbing out and beginning to pull a stretcher out

"Get me plasma, bandages and morphine. I need as much as we can spare, poor bastard got shot to bits, lucky to be alive right now. Let's get him stable and home to his ma."

surprise was not the word Peggy would use to describe her current emotions, watching this definitely not 18 year old girl work and order the much older men surrounding her

and they listened

"Miss Doe has worked on all of us, ma'am"

it's the young man she'd caught before hand, she turns to look at him and he's got an awestruck look on his face

"Most of us came here wounded, Miss Doe saved most of our lives or at least stabilised us so we could get home to a hospital. She's a fine medic, if that's what you're looking for."

Peggy watches as Alpine and a few of the other men begin to walk back into one of the many tents which held beds for the injured

she can't get far though, before another two trucks come blaring through

perhaps this would be the perfect test

Peggy watches as Alpine assesses her situation, getting a nearby medic to hold the wound she had been previously, running to the first of the trucks

"GSW, left shoulder, straight through."

she turns to the second

"It's bad miss, explosive went off nearby, leg's basically gone."

tutting, she turns back to the tent just as two teams of three come racing out

"Philips, take the first one. Multiple GSW's, three exits. Find the shrapnel, get it out, get him stitched. Taylor, take the second. You,"

She turns to Peggy, a hard look in her eyes

"Get lost or start helping."

the fucking audacity of this kid, does she know who she's talking to

no absolutely not

does she care

fuck no

is Peggy equip to be a medic?

no, but does that mean she'll sit and let men die?

definitely not, so, she shucks off her coat, rolls up her sleeve and let's alpine guide her into help

and boy is that girl fucking bossy

and mean

"Press harder Carter, jesus do you want this man to bleed out?"

"The man's just lost his leg, give him the bloody painkiller!"

"They should make basic first aid a mandatory skill to learn when you become an agent. Oh wait, they do."

"Carter you're not wrapping a Christmas present for gods sake, faster!"

by the end of it, Peggy is pretty sure she's picked the right person for the job

if anyone was going to be giving medical aid to a group of sarcastic, stupidly cheery and sometimes grumpy men then it should be at least someone who could hold their own

so when all is said and done, they'd managed to get the poor man stabilised and Alpine was organising his immediate transfer out of the unit and to an actual hospital, Peggy approaches

"Miss Doe, I have a proposition for you."

"Unless it's to do with shipments of morphine, plasma, bandages, gauzes, tunicates and all the other supplies I've been badgering everyone about, I'm not intrested."

"I'd like to offer you a position in the Howling Commandos. You'll be working with Captain America, Steve Rogers and his team."

Alpine blinks at her

staring

not moving

before she gestures to the space around her

"I've got men dying as we speak and you want me to drop them just to work with a lab rat and his crew?"

"They need a medic, you are the only one qualified enough. I didn't know about your father, I'm sorry for your loss, but please do not let this be a wasted journey."

Alpine's eye twitches

"You helped save a man and it's a wasted journey?"

Peggy sighs and shakes her head, clearly she's approaching this girl wrong

"I'm simply saying- this isn't the opportunity to skip out on, especially for someone like you."

Alpine knows she's speaking of not only her age but also gender

this was the 1940s after all, not exactly the golden era for women in the military

or medical services

"You're incredibly talented. Captain Rogers and his team need someone like that to keep up with their absolute stupidity."

Alpine laughs, signing the papers she'd been working on and handing them to one of her colleagues before looking at Peggy and offering a smile

"I'm sorry Agent Carter. I made a promise to my eldest brother. No working with Captain America. After what happened with the 107th and the other forces, he's been a bit protective - as much as he can from the front lines. I'm afraid I can't go against my promise to him."

Peggy nods but takes a slip of paper and writes the details she'd need to contact her and hands it to her

"Please, if you change your mind before the war is done, don't hesitate to contact this number."

Alpine nods and the two separate, Alpine returning to her work in the bloodied clothing she'd arrived in and Peggy feeling like she needed a bath after helping remove a man's leg and stitch it up again

it's weeks later when Alpine contacts the number, she'd refused to give any details to the receptionist who picked up but instead managed to organise a way to their base in London

to say Peggy was shocked was an understatement

The Howling Commandos had all come into the meeting room for their first debriefing after destroying the first HYDRA base on Steve's list

and the need for a medic had never been more obvious

Dum Dum had a large gash on his arm and had refused to seek medical assistance, instead stating that it was 'just a graze, it'll heal over night'

absolute bullshit

even Bucky had told him to get help but the man refused, Steve had suggested getting it checked out before the briefing, just to get Peggy off their back (to ease her concerns) and again Dum Dum had refused

imagine the absolute rage on Peggy's face

honestly, these men were the reason's she'd found a grey hair that morning she was sure of it

not that she'd ever mention anything to anyone

ever

She was about to order the man to seek help when the door to the briefing room opened to reveal a worn out Alpine

covered in less blood than when Peggy had left her, eyes darkened with loss and large bags settling in her undereye

her hands were dirty, holding tightly onto two letters, and she looked frailer

younger

weaker

"Sorry for the interruption Agent Carter, but she said she had an appointment and insisted-"

"It's quite alright. Miss Doe is a friend."

as she moves closer to the girl, the rest of the men surrounding them take the opportunity to study her

and bucky is in shock

what the hell is a child doing in their briefing room?

seriously, she was what 16? (15 - but he didn't need to know that)

she's there, blood splattered on her sleeves, dirt in her nails and her hair thrown up in a ratty bun

she looked like she came straight from the front lines

but she should have been at home

with her parents

why the hell, was she here?

"I'd like to take you up on your offer, Agent Carter."

Jesus even her fucking voice was a tell-tale sound that she was underaged

and Peggy had made her an offer?

for what?

"I take it your brother changed his mind?"

ah so she had a guardian at least

"My brother died, ma'am."

fuck

"Miss Doe.... I'm sorry."

there's a shared moment of silence for the loss before Alpine is looking up and trying to smile at her

"So, if your offer still stands, I'd like to take it."

Alpine spies Dum Dum's arm and thanks god that she carries a satchel of supplies with her everywhere

she'd sold rations for them and was sure she got some odd looks off of people for it but she didn't care

better safe than sorry

Peggy gives her arm a gentle touch before turning to address the men who had been staring at her, a pissed off Bucky included

"Gentlemen, this is Alpine Doe. A little younger then you're all used to-" bucky scoffs, Steve elbows him "-but a great medic nonetheless! She'll be joining you, no arguments."

her words are final and the rest of the team seem fine with it

they jump up, everyone greeting and shaking her hand

normally she'd love meeting people who weren't screaming in her face, but she can't bring herself to truly enjoy the moment, despite the pleasant smiles and pats on her shoulders

Steve offers his hand and she takes it, smiling at him

"Good to have you. We'll take good care you you, like you will us I'm sure."

Bucky is glaring at all of them

they're all idiots

he knew that but jesus

are they truly THIS stupid?

"Are we ignoring the fact that she's an actual child?"

he didn't realise he spoke

truly

he thought he'd spoken to himself

but it came out

and it came out harsher than what he would have liked it

no stopping now, someone had to stand up for the kid

her brother obviously didn't want her here

"I'm 18, Sergeant Barnes."

"And I'm the King of England."

they stare at each other, glaring really

Bucky can see the tears building in Alpine's eyes

he didn't think he was pushing too much

but then again

SHE'S A CHILD

he doesn't push too hard after seeing the tears, actually takes a minute step to comfort her before she's turning her attention to where Dum Dum had sat, now tending to the gash on his arm

distracting herself from the overwhelming frustration building in her stomach

Bucky turns to Phillips

"You're signing off on a kid working with us? Going into HYDRA bases? With their weapons, what's the use of a medic?"

Phillips sighs and shakes his head, frustrated with the entire situation to be honest

"You're still using regular explosives, regular bullets. They ricochet, debris exists, you get a cold, she's there to keep you healthy and on your feet."

"Now, because she's a medic, she'll be a non-combatant member of the Howling Commandos, the only one."

what

the

fuck

honestly

the world has gone to shit at this point

"So let me get this straight. She's an underaged girl-"

Alpine goes to correct him, but he points an accusatory finger at her that shuts her up because it reminds her of her brother

"-that you've let become a medic in the army and now, you're putting her, unarmed, up against weaponry that quite literally vaporises whoever it hits?"

"She's done it before Sergeant, now one more outburst from you and I'll be forced to take disciplinary action!"

Steve elbows him again and he shuts up

he wants to fight for this girl but can't let Steve go out there alone

he hates the fact that this girl is clearly in over her head

and everyone is just letting her

it reminds him of the Steve he knew before the serum

the one who would stop at nothing to get into the war

the one who faced prison for lying on his enlistment papers

was he truly the only person who saw this all for what it was?

the leading of a lamb to slaughter for their own goddamn advantage

that much was shown when they moved out to their next base after the debrief

Alpine had avoided them all after patching up Dum Dum, whose arm had healed beautifully

she went straight home after the meeting and only saw them all again when they were meeting for the plane back abroad

even then, she kept to herself and refused to speak

Bucky would glance over occasionally from where they sat on the plane, watching her read and re-read the same two letters in her hands which she carried in her pockets when her hands were busy working

Steve had sat next to her, trying to coax her into a gentle conversation but she'd answered with little words and left not room for the conversation to continue

when she wasn't reading the letters or working on someone, she was writing in a little blue journal, with a black journal open and glancing between them both

she'd scribble in the black one occasionally but for the most part, the blue journal was the only one she wrote in

what she was doing Bucky didn't know

but it was clear it was important to her

occasionally the others would tease her, trying to get her to open up

but again, they were being blind to the truth about this girl

she was a child and she was grieving

he could see it in the way she's hold her breath when she read the letters

wiping away unshed tears and pulling at her hair

Bucky sighs, nodding to Steve and making him swap seats with him in the tight aircraft, causing everyone to glance up at them

he settles next to Alpine, nudging her when he sat and played it off like he hadn't noticed

if no one else was going to support her

then he'd have to do it himself

16 notes · View notes

coltermorning · 2 years

Text

The Hat (RDR2 Fanfic, Arthur Morgan x F!Reader, 18+)

Summary: You’ve taken a liking to a certain hat as well as to the rugged gunslinger who wears it. When you impulsively risk your neck to get it back for him, his anger at your foolish act turns into something surprising.

Author’s Notes: This was the first fic I ever wrote, and wow is it amazing to see how far I’ve come! This one will always have a special place in my heart though. Set during Chapter 3 in game.

Tags: Arthur Morgan x reader, smut, low honor Arthur Morgan, rough sex, rough oral sex, spanking

AO3 Link

The Hat

Word count: 6319

“Please let me go with them, Dutch. I can handle myself just fine,” you begged the gang leader as he assigned his men a lead he had been scoping out.

“Oh, I don’t doubt that, miss. I don’t doubt that at all-”

“Then let me go. I’ll keep my head down and be a good extra hand. Hell, they may need me,” you said, gesturing to the men Dutch had just handpicked for the job.

You had been with the Van der Linde Gang for over a month now, fitting right in with your rough, dangerous lifestyle. Because of this, you had quickly found friendship in some of the men as well as Sadie Adler who was one of the first women you knew to dress like you and shoot like you and keep up with the rest of the men with ease like you. Well, almost all of the men. A certain handsome cowboy named Arthur had proven to be the most talented gun you had ever met, and he caught your attention early on because of it. Unsurprisingly, he was one of the men Dutch asked to go robbing. Part of you wanted to join the outing simply to watch the broad-shouldered man in action, although you would never admit to that. You couldn’t fall for someone you hardly knew when your lifestyle didn’t allow for such things.

Dutch pondered your request and finally relented. “Fine. Arthur, watch her, would you? Make sure she doesn’t get herself killed.”

“Now, Dutch, I ain’t babysitting on a job,” the rugged gun responded.

Dutch had already turned to walk back to his tent and waved Arthur’s words away, making his request final. Your blood boiled a little under the surface, mad at continually being called a kid. You stomped toward the camp’s hitching post where your horse was tied, stopping to make your anger known with Arthur. “I ain’t a baby. You look out for yourself and I’ll be just fine.” You turned to walk to your horse, not even waiting for a response.

He let out a big sigh of annoyance in return. “If you say so.” He followed you in walking to his horse, barking orders along the way. “John, Javier, let’s go. We don’t have much time if we wanna do this right.” The other two guns jogged over to their horses as well, and by the time all of you were saddled, Arthur led the group out of the Clemens Point camp and toward the latest score for the gang.

Not long into the ride, Arthur laid out a plan for the three of you to follow, telling you to stay toward the back of the wagon you were going to rob to keep an eye out. He was going to do the actual robbing and needed good protection in case anyone bold decided to show up and attempt to pick him off. Javier was to help you keep watch, and John was to hold up the driver. You were nervous about your first outing with the gang but excited too and ready to prove yourself. You were a good shot, especially with a rifle, so as long as you relied on your talent everything would turn out fine.

After a ride that lasted longer than you thought it would, Arthur spoke up. “Let’s wait under these trees here. Should be hidden well enough to wait for the wagon to pass.” The four of you turned your horses off the trail and into the woods to wait. After about ten minutes, the wagon came idling along the path. “Masks on. Here she comes,” Arthur said. You pulled up your dust-colored bandana (the damned thing used to be white, the Rhodes dirt having ruined it) to hide your face as you readied your gun. “You sure you ready for this, hotshot?” Arthur asked you. You looked over at him and nodded, not allowing him any room in your mind where your focus needed to be. “All right then. On my mark.”

The wagon crept along just past the trees where you were hidden, and Arthur waited a few seconds before barking the order, “Ride!” The four of your barreled out of the woods and toward the wagon, startling the driver enough to make him immediately stop and put his hands up.

John played his part well, riding up directly beside the driver. “That’s right, not one move or I’ll shoot you dead!”

Arthur quickly jumped into the back of the wagon to look for the money Dutch said would be hidden in it. “Javier, Y/N, keep an eye out. No guards don’t sit right with me,” he said as he searched through a trunk.

Javier looked toward the road ahead of the wagon and to the left while you took the rear and the right. You spotted movement in the wood line just in time to line up your sights. Through the crosshairs, you saw four or five mounted men hiding there, waiting to pick you off—one of them had a long-scoped rifle. “Guards!” you yelled, taking a shot at the man with the most deadly gun. You were a second too late though, as he fired just before you and came within inches of Arthur’s head, making Arthur’s hat fly off.

“Goddammit,” Arthur muttered as he ducked down into the wagon. “John stay with the driver and make sure he don’t run!”

Your first shot hit the guard right in the jaw, killing him and knocking him clean off his agitated horse. Shots rang out all around you as the remaining guards pursued and Javier and Arthur fired back. You were well-seasoned in this and took a breath, spurring your horse to move. A moving target was much harder to hit than a still one. You fired again and again, hitting one more guard. Either Arthur or Javier finished off the rest, and a silence rang out in the large space that gunshots had just filled. The two drafts pulling the wagon reared and stomped, only held from bolting by the terrified driver. “Get down from there,” John ordered him. “Get down from there now and get out of here and maybe I won’t kill you!” he yelled. The driver did as he was told, and John quickly replaced him. “I’m getting this thing out of here, Arthur. That won’t be the last of them.”

“Find a secluded spot and keep your head down then,” Arthur said as he jumped off the side of the wagon. “Don’t draw any attention. Go!” He slapped the side of the wagon and John flicked the reins hard, lurching the wagon away. “You two, be ready. He’s right, there’ll be more guards headed our-”

Before Arthur could finish his sentence, more gunshots rang out. Mounted men spilled out of the trees toward the three of you. Arthur was stuck too far away from his horse, so he jumped on John’s instead, grabbing his gun to shoot back at the men and whistling for his own mount to follow. You joined Javier in making a run for it while shooting your pursuers, but something near a big bush on the ground caught your eye—it was Arthur’s hat. “Arthur, your hat!” you yelled to him, knowing how important it was to him.

“For christ sake, leave it!” he shouted as he unloaded his sidearms.

Against all logic and rationalization, you turned your mount into a wide circle, doubling back to retrieve the hat. You loved that hat something awful, especially on the cowboy who donned it. You also weren’t scared of the mediocre guns pursuing you in the slightest. The guards in pursuit split, half following Javier and Arthur, half following you. You aimed your rifle at one of them and breathed out, firing a shot that took him down easily. As far as you could tell, that only left two more. You spurred your horse again, keeping your head low and riding in an erratic pattern as gunshots flew around you. You turned to line up your shot again and fired, taking out the second guard.

As your one pursuer continued after you, you neared the black hat on the ground. You decided (impulsively and somewhat stupidly) to grab the hat off the ground while riding. You used to practice tricks like this off of your horse all the time when you were younger, but this one would have to count or it could cost you your head. You kept your feet firmly in the stirrups, glad that you had cinched your horse up so tight, and began to lean as you neared the hat at full speed. You leaned down more and more, stretching your arm out as far as it would go, and just before you reached the hat, another gunshot split the air and skimmed across your left arm that was away from the ground. You instinctively moved away from the splitting pain and even closer to the ground, finding the hat with your fingers and picking it up. You slammed it on your head, turned angrily around to the guard who had shot you, and cut his pursuit short with a bullet between the eyes. You didn’t let up one second in case any more pursuers came and bolted back toward camp with a small grin at your triumph.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Arthur yelled as you reentered camp at a trot.

As you passed him, you tipped his own hat to him, deciding not to give it back just yet. You had earned it, goddammit, not him. “Survived, didn’t I?” You stopped your horse just shy of the hitching post and dismounted, tying him and giving him loving pats down his broad neck for doing so well under pressure.

“That ain’t the point.” The angry outlaw was hot on your tail, towering over you when you turned around. “You could have gotten yourself killed. I told you to leave the damn hat.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t. And I killed the rest of the guards for you. You’re welcome.” You put your hand over the hat and ducked around him, deciding to rub some salt in the wound and keep it for yourself, at least for the day.

You saw Dutch walking your way and felt a tiny bolt of panic. The job really could have gone better, and now you knew Arthur wouldn’t vouch for your talent. “What’s going on?” the gang leader asked.

“She nearly went and got herself shot up all for that stupid hat,” Arthur answered, following behind with plenty of impatience in his voice.

Dutch let out a sharp laugh. “Well, we have a brave one on our hands, don’t we? For future reference, miss, Arthur couldn’t lose that hat if his life depended on it. It always finds its way back on his head.” Dutch had a small grin on his face, and it was a little off-putting. Why wasn’t he yelling at you?

“Yeah she’s brave. Brave or stupid,” Arthur replied.

“Watch your mouth, would you?” you said, rounding on the cowboy. “I killed five of those guards with ease, no problems. Isn’t that all that matters? That we got the money and came out with our lives?”

“It ain’t about winning, it’s about being smart enough to live another day and not risk our necks unnecessarily.”

You rolled your eyes, knowing he was right but refusing to admit it. “Yeah, well, don’t get your hat shot off your head next time and maybe I won’t have to risk my neck.” Dutch let out another bark of a laugh at Arthur as you stormed off toward your tent.

You heard Dutch mutter “She’s got a point. It all turned out all right, Arthur, now don’t go worrying yourself into the grave,” before you reached your bedroll.

You heard Arthur reply, but his voice was too low for you to pick up words. His anger made you angry, made you want to punch something. You swiftly took the hat off your head and slammed it down on the ground beside you as you sat. The sharp movement made you wince as you remembered the graze from the bullet on your arm. You looked at your wound and saw that blood had seeped into your shirt, so you unbuttoned a few of the top buttons and brought the fabric down over your shoulder to reveal the wound. It wasn’t bad and could have been a lot worse, you decided, knowing that it would end up healing just fine. You reached over into your trunk where you kept all your belongings and pulled out a canteen and another shirt, soaking the shirt with water and pressing it to your wound to clean it out. It hurt, but it wasn’t unbearable. You’d need to get your hands on a health cure to make sure it didn’t get infected. As you poured more water onto your shirt, Tilly passed by and saw the blood on your arm. “Didn’t go exactly as planned, did it?” she asked.

“Not exactly,” you said through a chuckle. You loved Tilly’s bluntness in everything she did. It kept all the boys in check. “Could have been worse, though.”

“Story of our lives.”

You let out another laugh. “You’re not wrong.”

“Well anyway,” she said, moving to get back to her work, “Keep on those men. They need it.” She smiled over her shoulder and you returned it.

After you finished tending to your wound and buttoned your shirt back up, you noticed Arthur eyeing you from across camp with a gaze full of anger. You had neglected to mention the graze on your arm on purpose, and knowing that he had seen it made you a little embarrassed. He would definitely bring it up later. He always had to have the last word, that much you knew about him.

You elected to ignore him and picked up his hat instead, knowing he was watching. You put it back on your head and wiped your wet hands off on your pants as you stood. You needed to go ask Strauss for a health cure. You would much rather ride into Rhodes and buy one from the general store there, but the gang members were finicky about who got to leave camp whenever they pleased. You hadn’t earned the right to do that yet. So, you made way to Strauss’ wagon, keeping a wide berth between you and Arthur. You didn’t feel like arguing anymore lest you end up boiling over with anger and saying something you didn’t mean, as you tended to do. Luckily, you saw his tall frame move from the spot where he had been leaning and retreat toward his holdings, away from you.

“Mister Strauss,” you said, making him pull his newspaper down from under his nose. “I’m afraid I find myself in need of some medicine.”

“Are you all right?”

“Fine, just need a health cure. Got grazed by a bullet.” You stopped in front of him and tilted the too-big hat up out of your eyes.

“Oh, I know the agonies of a graze,” he said, scrambling to pick something out for you. He pulled a tiny bottle from his wagon and handed it to you. “That should work well. It certainly helped me.”

“Thanks,” you said, nodding his way and retreating. “I appreciate it.”

“No trouble at all,” he said, seemingly happy to be of use. You made your way back to your tent, drinking the bitter liquid down and trying not to wince at the taste. Once again, you caught the angry outlaw’s eyes. You stopped and thought about confronting him but decided against it. No point in raising hell. Instead, the two of you stared with harsh, set gazes, locking imaginary horns without a word.

Night fell over camp, and after staying up and talking with Sadie for a while, you decided to retire to your bedroll. You always had trouble falling right to sleep, but the medicine had relaxed your tense muscles, and unconsciousness fell over you with ease.

That is, until you were startled awake by someone nudging you with their boot. You quickly flipped over and reached down for the sidearm you kept near while you slept until you realized nothing was wrong and it was just Arthur. “Jesus, what the hell?” you said with a grogginess from being ripped from sleep. You slumped back down on your back.

“Get up.” You opened one eye and looked up at the handsome figure that towered over you, but you didn’t move a muscle. “Don’t make me sling you over my shoulder.”

“For god’s sake, Arthur,” you said as you rose with reluctance. “What’s so important that I gotta get up in the middle of the damn night?”

“You’re coming with me. Grab my hat and your boots, we gotta ride ahead of us.”

You groaned in annoyance at the request, stretching the sleep out of your frame. “A ride? What kind of twisted punishment-” You stopped talking when you noticed Arthur had already stalked off toward the horses. “Hmph.”

You grabbed his hat and put it on your own head, disoriented and wondering why he hadn’t just taken it back already. You grabbed your two guns, holstering the sidearm and resting the rifle over your shoulder by the strap, and followed the broody bastard. When you slung your leg over your sleepy mount, Arthur made a request that only confused you further. “No questions on the ride, you got me?”

“What?”

“Yeah, that. None of those until we get there. You don’t like to listen do you?”

He turned his horse to leave camp, and you followed suit. “Where is ‘there’ exactly?” He shook his head, his sandy hair swaying in the moonlight, but neglected to answer you. You rolled your tired eyes, unhappy about the situation you found yourself in. You showed his back your middle finger, making you smile in triumph.

After a few hours had passed and you were sure the sun would be rising soon, you found yourself crossing the Dakota River with a very tired horse and a very grumpy outlaw. You had relented to his request and hadn’t spoken another word, not because he asked but because you were too drained of energy for any conversation. The pair of stallions stepped high through the rushing water, giving every bit of energy to your and Arthur’s spurring. Finally, you spoke up for your mount’s sake. “We best be stopping soon or we’ll have to walk on foot.”

Without turning to look at you, Arthur replied. “The horses will be fine. Not much longer.”

Sure enough, he held true to his word. After less than a half hour, he stopped in front of a small cabin and stepped off of his horse to hitch it. Your exhaustion had begun to wear off and give way to suspicion. What was he planning? Did he know someone here? He looked over to you still on your horse with a questioning gaze. “You want me to come with you, or...”

“Come on,” he nodded, stepping onto the cabin’s small porch. You got off of your horse and stretched your aching legs before hitching and following Arthur.

He opened the door and let you walk through only for you to discover that it was empty. Now you were really suspicious, almost to the point of fear. “Okay, just what the hell is going on? Look, I know I screwed up but this is really starting to get-”

You turned to meet his gaze as he shut the door behind him and immediately lost your words. He was looking at you like an animal would, pupils blown wide, predatory. It turned you on slightly, but you were still a little scared of him. “You told me you wouldn’t cause any fuss on that score we took.”

He slowly stepped toward you, eyes devouring you. You were, quite frankly, scared out of your wits and just as turned on by his display. “I- I know I did, but-”

“Just had to get my hat, didn’t you? Why is that?” he said, still approaching you in such an intimidating manner that you gave a little ground and started to back up.

“I like your hat,” you said, reaching up to grab it.

“Nah, that ain’t it.” He held your eyes locked as he moved close enough for you to back into a nightstand behind you. “See,” he said, stopping to lean over you, placing his forearm on the wall above your head—trapping you. “I know you ain’t an idiot. You wouldn’t risk your life all over a hat you liked, one that ain’t even yours.”

You began to tilt your head down to escape his gaze, but he used his calloused finger to tilt your chin back up to him. Your heart pounded as you began to understand why he was such a good enforcer. You also wanted him to have you right then and there, but that was another thing entirely—a wild fantasy of yours that was uncalled for at the moment. “Maybe...” you said, gaining a little confidence again. “Maybe I knew I wasn’t risking my life to get it. Knew I would come out unscathed.”

“Unscathed?” he asked in a deep growl that made the hair on the back of your neck stand on end. “You call this unscathed?” He reached for your arm where the bullet had grazed you and gripped hard, making you wince in pain.

“Quit! Please, Arthur, I-”

“Nah, you better tell me the truth right now.” He ceased his firm grip but kept his large hand on your arm as a reminder of what pain he could cause. You began to panic. He was obviously interested in punishing you being so far away from civilization and from any other human being, and the feeling of being trapped with a very overpowered and very predatory man was making your breathing quicken. Should you tell him that you went back for it because you favored its owner so much or would that make him even angrier, gaining you worse punishment for being so impulsive? He suddenly slammed his hand on the wall behind your head, making you jump out of your skin. “Tell me!”

“Fine! I- it’s, it’s you! I grabbed it because it’s yours! Because I, well...”

“Go on,” he said with a grimace, lip curled over his teeth like a wolf. He had gotten so close to you it nearly made you turn your head away.

“Because I know how much it means to you. Being your father’s hat and all. I’ve seen the picture on your wagon.” You hoped this was a good enough excuse for him, as it wasn’t the whole truth.

He almost seemed to sense the guilt coming off of you. “You lie.” The growling words made your blood run cold. They would mean worse punishment. “You better tell me the goddamn truth right now,” he said in a voice barely louder than a whisper.

You felt a heat begin to build between your legs at his closeness and his voice and his harsh way. Fuck it, you thought, what was the worst that could happen? “I grabbed the hat because I want to gain the favor of the man who wears it,” you said calmly, holding his gaze. His expression didn’t change in the slightest, and you decided, again impulsively, to throw all your chips in. “Because I want him to fuck me.”

That was all it took. He snapped, pushing you up to sit on the nightstand and pressing his lips to yours with such force it hurt. Your head hit the wood behind you as he pushed against you, and his hat got pushed up off your head as a result. You grabbed it to keep it from falling off, suddenly very glad to have it on. His tongue immediately pushed past your teeth and into your mouth, all hot and dominant, and his hips pushed right between your legs. His hands ravished your body and began to work the buttons of your shirt as you brought your own hands around to his broad, muscled back. He distractedly and sloppily kissed you as he yanked your shirt apart, pulling the bottom two buttons clean off the shirt. You wanted to scold him for it but were too lost in the heat of his mouth to care.

You moved forward to get the shirt out from behind you and took it off completely. He stopped and looked down, realizing you had nothing on underneath the shirt. He had a dark hunger in his eyes as they raked over your body, and he reached his hand up to feel your breast and flick his thumb across your nipple. The sensation made you suck in a breath, and the sound drew his attention back to you, making him continue the pursuit of devouring your mouth.

You began to undress him then, taking off his familiar brown jacket he always wore and tugging his suspenders off his shoulders. Every touch he gave you was like fire licking your skin, and you suddenly couldn’t have enough of him. You pulled him in impossibly closer by his shirt collar, letting him continue claiming every inch of your mouth and using what little room you had to unbutton his shirt and take it off.

Just as suddenly as you had pulled him into you, you shoved him away, making him stumble a few steps backward. You had the overwhelming need to see him, that body he was hiding beneath all those layers. And you were met with quite a sight—his wide chest and chiseled torso were unfairly attractive. He flexed his muscles involuntarily as he heaved in breaths, watching your mouth part in desire at the sight of him.

He stepped back toward you and picked you up with ease, cupping your backside and crashing his hips to yours as he moved to lay you down on the small bed the cabin had to offer. You both kicked off your boots, stripped each other’s socks, and fought to undo the other’s gun belt and pants buttons. You remembered just as he shoved your pants down your legs that you had neglected to put anything on under your pants either. He pulled them completely off of your legs with what could be mistaken for anger but you knew to be desire, stepping back to admire your nearly completely naked form (apart from his own hat) for only a moment before he slammed his mouth against yours again. You sat up as best you could between his arms and slid his pants off as well, taking his undergarments off along with them. His cock sprang out of them and to attention, and the sight of it alone made you let out a low sound of arousal. He had more girth than any man you had ever seen, and you knew it would stretch you wide in a way you had never felt before. He stood just by the bedside and right in front of you, and when he saw how close your mouth was to his length, he put his hand on your hatted head and shoved you toward him.

Just before you took him into your mouth, you began to try to pull the hat off, as it was starting to get in the way. He swiftly caught your wrist, and you looked up at him in surprise. “Leave it on,” he growled with a dark gaze. You were again reminded of a predatory animal. “Gonna watch you take every inch of me with that hat sat right on your head. Teach you a damn lesson about obeying.” His words made you breathe heavier, made the heat between your legs form a rising pressure.

“Yes sir,” you said as you took him into your mouth, making him emit a long breath of pleasure as he rolled his hips a little to get used to the tightness. You used your tongue like you knew how, twisting and licking around his thick cock, running it over his head, licking down the underside. You looked up to see him tilt his head back with an expression of pure pleasure, then you began to move. You held one hand at his base and the other under his balls, taking him slowly at first to get used to him, then deeper as your throat relaxed. Arthur brought his head back down and placed his hand on the back of your head under the brim of his hat, suddenly snapping his hips forward, making his cock push at the back of your throat. The sensation made you gag, but you continued your work anyway as he started to fuck your mouth harshly, using you like a toy. Tears formed in your eyes at being used like this, but it turned you on something awful. You continued to work on him as best you could before he suddenly withdrew from your mouth, pulling you up and turning you around so that you were on your hands and knees on the bed, presented to him all glistening wet.

“All ready for me ain’t you? Want me to fuck you, girl?” He gently placed one hand on your hip just above your backside.

You weren’t embarrassed in the slightest about wanting to beg him. You had never wanted anyone more in your life. “Yes, please, Arthur. Please fuck me, I- oh!”

He spanked you hard, the sound resonating in the small room. You hadn’t expected the harsh slap and were sure that his strong hand had left a mark. “Remember what I said about obeying?”

“Yes, I remember. I’ll do it from now on, I’ll be good-” He spanked your ass again right in the same spot, leaving a stinging burn on your skin.

“That’s not why we’re here, is it? Why are we here?” You pondered his question, and because you hesitated, it gained you another sharp slap. “Answer me,” he said in his low growl.

“Because I need to be punished!” you yelled, hoping the quick answer would be enough to make him stop.

Sure enough, he rubbed circles on the skin that had grown irritated instead of spanking you again. “Good. You’re right, a little minx like you needs to be punished for not following direct orders.”

“I do. I need to be taught a lesson,” you begged, hoping you would feel his thick cock pushing into you instead of his calloused hands punishing you.

“A lesson, huh? Tell you what, for every minute I was waiting, worried sick that you had gone off and gotten yourself killed, earns one slap.” You hated to hear it. The spanking turned you on, but you didn’t think Arthur realized how strong he was and how much it hurt. He spanked you again, and you let out a soft moan of pain. “That’s one. The first minute I realized you were gone.” He spanked you again, even harder, making tears prick at your eyes. “Two. When I pondered going back to find you.” He spanked you again. “Three. When I realized going back would probably mean finding you dead.” He spanked impossibly harder, making you yelp in pain. “Four. When I knew that it could be a trap for me to go back and I would just have to wait.” He gave three slaps in quick succession, not as harsh as the others. “The three minutes waiting in camp for you.”

Then, he gave you one last slap across the ass, so hard that you cried out in pain. “Arthur, please!”

“That one was for your sorry ass riding into camp like you owned the place with that hat on your head, mouthing off to me like you knew better.” You waited in silence, hoping he was finished. “And then,” he said, rubbing circles into your raised, abused skin again. “You had the bright idea to parade my hat around camp like a trophy for the rest of the day, showing everyone just who was in charge.” His words worried you, knowing you would probably get another spanking for that, but Arthur didn’t move his hand from your backside. Instead, he leaned over you enough that you could feel his cock rest against your skin, and he used his hand to grip your jaw and force you to look at him. “I’ll tell you who’s in charge girl,” he growled. You watched as he took his hat from your head and placed it on his own before digging his fingers into your hips and ramming his whole length into you, making you cry out in pleasure.

“Arthur!” You didn’t have a second to adjust to his girth as he started to move, slowly but completely and filling you up so much it hurt. The anticipation of him fucking you was enough to put you close to your climax before he even entered you, but his movement slowed your build back down, making you want to be completely ravished by him first.

He didn’t give you long to experience this though, as he held his grip tight on your hip with one hand but reached down with the other to brush against your clit. His touch lit your nerves on fire, and your back caved in response, giving him a better angle to hit your sweet spot. He began to run circles around that bundle of nerves, still fucking you slow and steady but fully. It drove you mad. You thought about how he had taken his hat off your head and put it back on his own, the hottest fucking image that would ever be burned into your memory, and he suddenly flicked his finger harshly across your clit, making you emit a sound so obscene that it would make anyone blush. “That’s right. Easy, girl.” His drawn out words made you pant. You were in such a deep pleasure that you were almost scared to feel how harshly your orgasm would rip through you.

Arthur didn’t give you any time to recover, speeding up slightly as he hit a perfect spot within you over and over again, circling his thick finger on your clit faster and faster until you knew you were doomed. “I’m close,” you panted.

“Look at me,” he said in a breathless voice. “Wanna see your face when I make you fall apart. Make you submit to me.” His words pushed you further, and with one last circle of his finger, he slammed into you hard, and you yelled out loud, being pushed over the edge by the most intense orgasm you’d ever had. It crashed into you in waves, and every nerve in your body rang out in pleasure. Your muscles tensed around Arthur’s length, making him groan too. His noise only stretched your pleasure out further, and your whole body went taut with it. It was a wasteland, the after effects thrumming through you.

Your audible panting finally slowed, and Arthur cooed at you. “That’s my girl.” He didn’t give you long though before he started chasing his own high. He placed both hands back on your hips and dug his fingers in so harshly you knew there would be bruises left behind. He quickened his pace that grew more and more brutal, and you grew overly sensitive as he started to snap his hips and bury his cock deep inside of you. His breathing began to be audible now, as it was his turn to use you up and lose himself. He went impossibly faster. He leaned over you then and changed his angle, and the sensation along with the overstimulation made you come for the second time and moan the same loud obscenity as before, a sound that began to push him over the edge. You could feel his movement start to stutter and lose rhythm as your muscles tightened around his cock again. He sat up suddenly and slammed into you, stopping dead as he came deep inside of you and yelled out his pleasure. You turned to see the most bliss-filled, erotic face beneath the brim of that hat. It made you want him even more, all over again. He breathed heavily as he came down from his high, leaning over you. “You’re mine,” he panted. He slipped out of you, and as his come dripped out of your entrance and slowly ran down your inner thigh, you knew he was right. “You gonna obey me now?” he asked as he moved you with him to lay on the bed.

“If that’s my punishment, maybe not,” you said with a smile. “Then again, I think you look better in that hat than I do, so I’ll think twice next time about sticking my neck out for it for my own sake.”

“Good. Don’t ever do that again,” he said, looking deep into your eyes to make his seriousness known.

“I won’t,” you replied, knowing that somehow, the words rang true—you were willing to obey him now.

He turned over and rolled on top of you, catching your gaze with a playful one of his own. “You’re wrong about the hat. You look better in it.” He reached for it again, placing it back on your head. “Saw you ride in with it on and knew I had to fuck it right off of that pretty little head.”

“Arthur Morgan!” you chided. “So crude.” You flashed him a teasing gaze.

“Mmm. Can’t resist.” You didn’t know what he was referring to resisting, but as he moved forward and gave you another long, deep kiss, pushing the hat backward on your head once more, you ceased to care.

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan smut #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #low honor arthur morgan #rdr2 arthur morgan #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 #fanfic #writing #nsft #lemon fanfic

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colter-morning · 2 years

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The Hat (RDR2 Fanfic, Arthur Morgan x F!Reader, 18+)

Author’s Notes: This was the first fic I ever wrote, and wow is it amazing to see how far I’ve come! But this one will always have a special place in my heart <3 Set during Chapter 3 in game.