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[titaniyaahdrabble]

Handsome cowboy

[titaniyaahdrabble]

To be Treasured

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x reader

Summary: You had purchased a treasure map from a stranger in town and Arthur agrees to help find it.

Word count:  1941

Notes: This is just fluff and will be part 1. I have a second part coming. I hope you enjoy.

The morning had proved itself to be rather quiet around the camp. Unsurprisingly, Reverend Swanson and Uncle were both still asleep and their snoring had effortlessly merged in with the distant sounds of birds chirping within the surrounding trees. You had gotten quite used to their sounds whilst you settled into the gang life.

You sat at one of the small camp tables that overlooked the small area where the horses grazed quietly. You found you quite liked that spot. It was away from the main hub of the camp and allowed you some space to think as space alone was scarce with how physically close everyone always was. But today, instead of allowing your mind to wander to distant fantasies fuelled by the many novels you read, you were preoccupied by an old map that was decorated with chaotic markings. Your eyebrows knitted, your face tensing into a soft frown as you tried to make sense of it. You were sure it was a treasure map - the strange man told you it was a treasure map after all - but you were unfamiliar with the surrounding lands. Hell, you were unfamiliar with the act of reading maps itself. You found yourself letting out a loud dejected sigh. You took a large spoonful of your porridge and propped it into your mouth, your eyes not leaving the tattered map and the scribbles; you were determined to make sense of it. As your eyes trailed along, following the questionably drawn arrows, you froze, your lips wrapped around the metal spoon. You had seen that waterfall before. You were sure of it.

“Good morning, Miss (Y/L/N),” the familiar voice pulled your attention from the map and to Arthur standing just before you. He held his cup against his lips to take a small mouthful of coffee as his curious gaze never left your face. You swallowed sharply, spluttering out an incoherent greeting as the porridge stuck to your throat and wrestled with your words. You ripped the spoon from your mouth, clenching it angrily as you fought the urge to cough. Your face flared red with your internal struggle, your eyes watering as you struggled to maintain a calm facade. His curious gaze had turned into that of concern. 

“Mornin’, Mr Morgan,” you managed to say before he could question you and forced a smile to ensure him that everything was indeed fine and that you definitely weren’t just choking on porridge. You placed a hand at your chest, clearing your throat, “This porridge really has a kick.” you lied as you returned your gaze to the map. You silently wished he would leave you to it, but you found he did the opposite; instead, he took a stride towards you.

“What you got there?” he placed a hand on the table and leaned forward, intrigued. 

“Just a silly old map,” you sighed and turned the map for him to get a better look. As you did, he shuffled and stood himself beside you. You looked up at him and was taken back by how close he was to you. If he simply leaned to his side, his abdomen would press against your shoulder. Your gaze lingered on his broad torso, where his blue button up shirt was unbuttoned enough to reveal his upper chest. You saw the small hairs that decorated his chest and it led you to wonder what he would look like shirtless. That fantasy-filled mind of yours would surely be the death of you as you realised it had set you on a dangerous path. One of which you secretly hoped would lead you into the strong arms of Arthur Morgan. As though he had heard your silent prayer, he cleared his throat. You looked at his face then, your own becoming hot. His sea-green eyes narrowed as he silently analysed the map, seemingly unphased by the close proximity to you.

“I recognise some of this,” he hummed as he trailed the arrows with a finger. Feeling greedy, you took the moment to admire his face and the gentle wrinkles that formed to frame his beautiful eyes as he frowned in contemplation. He glanced at you then and you immediately stiffened. You looked away from him and back to the map. Yes, the map was what you were so interested in.

“I was tryin’ to make sense of it but I don’t know the area well.” you said after a beat of silence.

“I’ve seen this waterfall,” he started quietly, “if it’s the one I’m thinkin’ of, that is. We passed it on the way here.”

“Really?” you replied too quickly, trying to conceal the excitement in your voice. He looked to you again, a playful smile playing at his lips as he straightened.

“You just wanna go explorin’ don’t you?” he laughed gently as he turned to throw the rest of his coffee to the ground before stuffing the metal cup into his satchel. You blushed gently at his comment. You soon smiled once again, however, your eyes meeting his. His own held a warmth within them that wasn’t so common. In fact, his expression was so warm that you couldn’t quite place what it was. 

“It’s better than being moaned at by Miss Grimshaw,” you admitted quietly. “There could be treasure waitin’ out there!” You beamed up at him. “Don’t say you don’t wanna go take a look, Mr. Morgan,” you then added. He stood before you, his right hand resting on his gunbelt as he pondered for a moment, weighing his options. You had an inkling that his curiosity would get the better of him.

“C’mon then,” he finally said, taking a step back towards his horse as he raised his arms gently as if to feign defeat. “Guess it wouldn’t hurt to take a look.” You immediately rose from your chair, grinning as excitement consumed you. 

“Really?” You couldn’t believe it. A strong part of you thought it was just a silly map that led to a silly treasure you wouldn’t get the chance to chase after. The smaller part of you also couldn’t believe that Arthur Morgan, of all the people in the gang, would be the one to chase after it with you. 

“Yes, really.” he chuckled as he attached saddlebags to his saddle, “We could be gone a couple days, so make sure you get everything.” his tone was a little more serious and you nodded. “I’ll wait by the horses for you.” Within a heartbeat you had hurried off to your tent, practically running across the camp. 

After watching you for a moment, he glanced downwards and pulled his hat down slightly to hide the smile that he could not shake from his face. In truth, he didn’t care about the map or the treasure. Seeing how you reacted from simply agreeing to escort you had made him feel a certain way that he had not felt in a long time which was reward enough. And, although the feeling was exhilarating, it also scared him. He had felt himself drawn to you and, to his frustration, that feeling had become more persistent with each passing day.

***

You held onto your hat as you threw your head backwards, letting out a loud bout of laughter that you could not contain. As the pair of you rode on through the forest, spurring your agitated horses on and away from what you had assumed was an adolescent blackbear, your laughter echoed into the cold air and startled the birds in the surrounding trees. Arthur was less enthused with the encounter and he tried to focus on guiding his horse through the thickening forest. Your laughter eventually shattered his solemn demeanour however and he cracked a smile, biting back a chuckle. He had found that your laughter was indeed infectious. You had held onto the horn of your saddle and simply giggled, trusting your horse to follow Arthur’s which it did instinctively. 

Once in a clearing and far enough away from the bear, Arthur reined in his horse and the pair of you came to a halt. Your horses panted gently, lowering their necks in a stretch, grateful that you had stopped to allow them to catch their  own breaths. Arthur, donning a stern look, turned atop his stallion to look at you. His lips parted as he prepared himself to scold you on how dangerous it can be to encounter a bear. How dangerous it is to gallop so recklessly through woodland. His words had fled him upon taking in the sight of you. 

You were grinning ear to ear, your chest rising and falling with each pant as you looked around as though you sought out he bear once again - or something equally as dangerous. Your hair was disheveled, the wind had combed through it with ease and left it a mess. You didn’t care and continued to grin, a soft giggle escaping from you as you suddenly looked back at him, the joy in your eyes sparking a response from deep within him. His heart fluttered in his chest at the sight of you. How beautiful you were. How happy you were. That distant feeling that he had felt earlier had started to ebb at him once again.

“Gettin’ chased by bears sure does make you giggle, don’t it?” he smiled and shook his head gently. His comment had earned a small chuckle from you. He rested a forearm on the horn of his saddle and loosely held onto his reins, his attention on you. 

“Now I understand why you spend so much time away from camp, Mr Morgan,” your grin had simmered down to a small smile but the sparkle in your eyes lingered.

“You think I spend it being chased by bears?” he laughed. 

“It’s nice to just be away from it all,” you corrected him, glancing away for a moment to contemplate, and almost regret, your words. You didn’t want him to mistake your meaning. You appreciated being welcomed into the gang. And you appreciated everything they had done for you. It’s nice to just be alone with you. His small hum of acknowledgement pulled your attention away from your thoughts and to him once again. 

“So,” he started, his tone still playful and the glint in his eyes almost matching your own. “I’ve learned today that you’re terrible with reading maps and bears don’t scare you.” a teasing smile was plastered to his lips as he regarded you, causing your cheeks to warm. “I just wonder what does scare you.” 

“Not a thing when I’m with you, Mr Morgan,” you replied almost too quickly but there were no playful undertones to your words;  you had meant what you said. You felt safe when you were beside him whether it be in camp or anywhere else. Arthur’s presence had always been a form of comfort to you since you had joined the gang. He was intimidating and would certainly throw his weight around when he wanted to, but when he shed himself of his angry facade, he was also kind and playful. Perhaps that was part of why you had developed a silly crush on him. He immediately glanced away from you, your words having a greater effect than you had initially realised. He dipped his head to allow his hat to shield himself from your gaze. His cheeks flared a shade of red as he comprehended your words. 

You smiled to yourself before collecting your reins and nudging your horse forward to stand beside his. “So, cowboy, where to next?” 

[titaniyaahdrabble]

Thanks R* for giving us the sexy cowboy we needed

[titaniyaahdrabble]

[titaniyaahdrabble]

Canon: This is how the story goes

Fanfiction writers:

[titaniyaahdrabble]

Arthur insulting John. Says he was “attacked by chipmunks.”

Post 3 out 5 per night

[titaniyaahdrabble]

Hello I spent way too much time on this one off joke I made but it was worth it. 

[titaniyaahdrabble]

“Would you just hold still?”

Arthur Morgan x reader

Summary: Arthur returns to camp with some fresh injuries and you have the job of cleaning him up. (this is just fluff I guess?)

Word count: 1645

Notes: I wrote this a long time ago and have always been too afraid to share - so this is my first time posting a fic! This was inspired by both the prompt and Beauty and the Beast. I hope you enjoy.

The day had been pleasantly quiet for you as you mulled about camp, slowly completing chores as you were ever so conscious of Miss Grimshaw who, as you were quick to discover, had a terrible habit of appearing out of the shadows like some form of were-creature. You let out a brief sigh as you stood by the smaller of the wagons that harboured the medical supplies. With a finger, you counted each of everything the gang had, making a short list of what needed to be restocked.

The sound of hoof beats in the distance called your attention. Turning your head, you saw the small group of men riding their horses back to the camp. You were too far away to hear what exactly they were discussing, but from the way it went back and forth between them, you gathered that they were bickering over something. Narrowing your eyes faintly, you made out Arthur’s figure and quickly noticed that he had a hand placed at his jaw; a sign that he had either been punched there or that he had a toothache. The latter of which had never occurred before.

Since falling in with the gang, you had been given the role as the camp’s ‘fixer-upper’ as Dutch often phrased it. You had soon discovered that you weren’t as squeamish as the other girls and you were given opportunities to put to the test your medical knowledge; though limited, you acquired it through ‘idle reading’ as many men in your past, including your father, had often phrased it. As tedious and irritating as it often was, you were grateful that it gave you many excuses to get out of the endless cycle of washing and stitching up clothes as well as reasons to take trips to towns to restock the medical supplies.

You rolled your eyes gently and made your way over towards the hitching posts where Dutch, Arthur, John and Bill were untacking their horses. Their various incoherent grunts to one another simply confirmed your presumption that they were bickering. As you neared them, you made yourself seem busy by glancing back to your notes, sure that you were about to be summoned to clean a wound or prod one of them with a needle and thread.

“Ah, Miss (Y/L/N).” Dutch hummed from behind his own horse, The Count. A smug smile graced his lips as his eyes flickered over your body and to your face. “Would you mind having a look at poor Arthur’s miserable face? He had a run in with one of the locals.” humour lingered within his words, but you could also hear how tired he was.

“Causing trouble again, Mr Morgan?” you called back, biting back a smile as you quickly looked to Arthur’s unamused expression. His gruff features were tense as he practically scowled, his brows knotted beneath his gambler’s hat. He didn’t meet your gaze.

“Bill started it.” Arthur grumbled as he quickly pointed a finger at him.

“No I didn’t!” Bill barked back. “That feller said I was a-”

“Alright!” Dutch rose a hand frustratedly and sighed, leaning against The Count. He directed his gaze to you with a pleading look. It was evident that he had had enough of them for the day and you had to fight the urge to chuckle.

“Come along then, Mr Morgan,” you mockingly sighed, taking stride towards him. He looked up at you from behind his horse. You noted how his expression had softened and although his cheeks were a soft pink, you were taken aback by the large cut above his brow. “I didn’t know the locals were mountain lions,” your joke was unappreciated as he simply groaned in response.

Soon enough, Arthur had plopped himself down onto the wooden chair beside the medical wagon. It let out a large creak from the sudden weight pressing down into it. You had gathered a small bowl of water, clean rags and bandages before settling on your knees beside him. As you looked up at him, you noticed he hadn’t taken his hat off, to which you shot him a stern look. He quickly removed it and brushed back his long locks of sandy blonde hair. Shaking your head gently, you got to work, focusing on that nasty cut.

He hissed as you applied the dampened cloth to the cut above his right eyebrow, pulling back from you to shoot you a glare. He was surprised to be met with a fierce look on your usually soft features. Your eyebrows furrowed as you frowned at him with determined eyes. He discovered then that you could be quite intimidating when you wanted to be. After sitting in silence for a moment to simply glare at each other, Arthur released a sigh and returned to his original place within the chair. You bit back a smug smile of victory and pressed the damp cloth to his forehead, this time with a bit more force which earned you another wince. You ignored it and continued to wipe at the other smaller cuts and scrapes he had accumulated.

He had evidently gotten into a fist fight but had certainly won that battle. You wondered silently what the other man must have looked like when Arthur was finished with him. You knew Arthur could handle himself as he always did. You wiped along the small cuts and bruises and eventually came to his lips where another nasty looking cut lay, surrounded by dry blood and mud. You couldn’t quite get a piece of the mixture of blood and mud from the corner of his mouth and so pressed harder as you wiped. He let out another hiss and flinched his head away from you.

“Would you just hold still?” you growled as you reached for his mouth again.

“It hurts!” Arthur spat back defensively, leaning further away from you. You frowned once again, irritation bubbling within you and so you withdrew from him and threw the bloodied rag onto his lap. You glared at him and quickly stood up.

“Maybe if you thought with your brain and not your fists, you wouldn’t have this problem!” you retorted angrily, your fists clenching at your sides. His lips had parted to shout back his own retort, but his words failed him and he closed his lips again. It seemed as though the small voice of reason in his head had finally spoken loud enough for him to hear. Deep down, he knew you were right. You crossed your arms against your chest and let out a loud, irritated huff.

“I guess you’re right. I’m just an angry old fool.” he sighed quietly and took the rag from his lap, looking over its bloody contents briefly. His words surprised you and you found that the irritation that had previously bubbled within you had dissipated, replaced by something you couldn’t quite identify. Sympathy? Not quite. Regardless, you sighed gently and knelt down to take the rag from his large hands, shuffling so that you were kneeling between his legs so you could resume your work.

“You’re not a fool.” you said quietly as you reached up to his face once more. He decided against arguing against you and so watched you silently for a moment. Soon enough a small smile had appeared on his face.

“But for the record, Bill did start that fight.. I just finished it for him.” he admitted almost proudly but you could detect the hint of laughter in his words. You met his gaze for a moment, rolling your eyes as you couldn’t fight back the small smile that formed on your own lips. Arthur was certainly coarse and unrefined at times, but you couldn’t deny that he could be rather charming in his own way.

“I wish I could believe that, Mr Morgan.” you finally spoke, your own words playful as you smiled softly. He huffed in response, taking his eyes off you as his face warmed in a pink glow. You turned your attention to the cut on his lip once again, readying yourself for his winces and whines. To your surprise, however, he pushed his lips forward in a pout to allow you better access. Your brow furrowed as you concentrated on the task at hand, your lower lip pulled between your teeth.

His gaze eventually pulled itself back to you and he found himself studying your soft features. You soon glanced up to his eyes and he immediately looked away, silently cursing himself for staring so brazenly at you. You had lowered the rag, dumping it into the small metal bowl of now dirtied water and raised a hand to pat him on his cheek.

“All done.” you broke the silence and he looked back to you as you stood, placing a hand where you had patted him and groaned dramatically, feigning pain. You let out a giggle and pushed his shoulder gently. “Oh please, you can be such a wimp sometimes.” you teased, your lips pulling into a grin as you saw his eyes light up.

“Maybe you’ve got a hell of a hand on you.” he said in a hushed tone, his voice so low you could practically feel the words vibrate in the warm air. Although innocent in meaning, it had struck something deep within your. As he let out a laugh and stood from his chair to pick his hat up from the ground, you turned from him to gather up the bowl and cloth, finding yourself blushing profusely. You wondered why you hadn’t seen this side of him before. “Thank you, Miss (Y/N).” he said softly, placing his hand at the small of your back as he strolled passed you, confidence exuding from him. It was such a quick gesture that it left you wondering if it was just your imagination.

[titaniyaahdrabble]

A/B/O Arthur Morgan x Reader

Can’t you just sit still?

Part 2

Part 1

Masterlist

Word count: 14,171

A/n: You guys seemed to really love the last one so I thought id do y’all the pleasure of making a part 2 ;) I also know this is longer I just really didn’t wanna have to split it into a part 3 as well I do apologise. 

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[titaniyaahdrabble]

At the Rivers Edge Pt. 3

Arthur X Female!Reader

Part 1 | Part 2

Arthur comes into camp with a familiar dark air about him that leaves you hurting in his stead. Being one of the few who know him well enough to read his body language, you do everything to keep his mind off of the one and only Mary Linton

Hello everyone! Here it is! The final part to this story! It has been a crazy ride and I cannot thank you guys enough for all of the love and followers!! To think I was a little blog before this and now I have so many supporters! I feel so blessed! I have officially opened my ask box as well, so if any of you have any ideas, throw them in there and I will do the best I can to produce what you want to see! Thank you all for being so patient, I hope you enjoy the last of At the River’s Edge. ~K

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[titaniyaahdrabble]

Hello deary, I have a request to make. Let's have a bit of fun with Arthur, yeah? Reader does that " Don't let your boyfriend kiss you " challenge on him. He does everything he can to get a kiss but the reader playfully avoids every attempt. You can have him come close to almost kissing her but she turns her head and has him kiss her cheek, and he gets upset but she finds it amusing, loving how worked up he gets for a kiss. He then asks what does he need to do in order to get one and she tells.

This one was fun to write, I enjoyed it! (But I did end up hurting my own feelings). Hope you enjoy it, Anon!

Warnings: does fluff count? 

Arthur’s a funny man, there’s no question on that. He’s a very thoughtful man when it comes to trying to find ways to please you. There’s one problem though: he keeps trying to do things that are uncharacteristically him. He does things to make you happy that, while you enjoy them, he doesn’t. Unlike his ex Mary, you don’t want him to do things just to please you. 

The first few dates with him had been fine, a little odd as they always are with both people feeling incredibly self conscious. Despite you having been in the gang and been friends with him for a long time, he was so cute and nervous during that first date. He blushed and stammered a lot. Even now, You like flustering him, he always gets that embarrassed little grin and his cheeks go pink. 

You’ve kissed him, oh, probably a hundred times. However, your relationship with him is still in the dark as far as the others in camp know. You’ve played things very close to the belt, not wanting anyone to know just yet. Neither of you are really ready for anyone to know (Hosea does, but he’s been good on his word and hasn’t said anything). Both you and Arthur know now isn’t a good time for people to be worried about your relationship, what with being on the run from the law and Pinkertons breathing down your neck. It was hard enough hiding your desire to be physically close with Arthur up in Colter where it was so cold. It’s not much different here in Horseshoe Overlook. 

Arthur comes up to you just as you set out the morning coffee. He greets you and grabs a cup. 

“I was thinkin’ we could go to town today,” he says, setting down the percolator. “Maybe get you some new clothes or find a new book for ya.” He knows you love to read, but you also know that while he can read well, it’s not his favorite thing to do. 

“Or we can do something you like,” you suggest. It’s frustrating to watch him take care of everyone else, including you, and completely disregarding his own needs. 

“Nah I do plenty to keep myself occupied,” he says, sipping. “Like yesterday, when I came back from hunting. I had a good ol’ trip, met some interestin’ people.” 

“And that’s something you have fun with?” you say skeptically. “Arthur, you hate people.” 

He chuckles. “Well, I ain’t fond o’ most of ‘em, few are a’right.” 

“And hunting? I know the only reason you do it so often is to get away and get into the wild open. But I also know that can be terribly lonely. Not exactly what I call fun.” 

He smiles, his cheeks growing slightly pink. That’s how you know you’ve hit it on his head. 

“You know me too well for your own good,” he says. He checks to make sure no one’s looking then he bends down to kiss you. You’re not going to give him that satisfaction though, so you turn your head and his lips meet your cheek. 

“Awe, come on, darlin’. Just a small one before everyone else wakes up,” he begs. 

“Nope, you gotta earn this one, Mr. Morgan.” You pat his shoulder and start walking off. He follows behind a few steps. 

“So how do I do that?” he says. 

“I ain’t makin’ it that easy for you, Arthur. You’re smart, you’ll figure it out.” 

He stops and just watches you walk away, his hands on his hips and he smiles. You know how to play him, but unlike his ex, you don’t use it to your sole advantage. 

Over the next few hours, he tries a few different tactics. He brought you your favorite flowers and even bought some expensive chocolates (both earned him another kiss on the cheek but not one he really wanted). He offered to go find a new book for you again, to which you just shook your head. He invited you on a hunting trip to West Elizabeth, which he knew you liked a lot. Your resolve almost crumbled when he asked you to go to Big Valley, bathe in the sun, pick wild flowers and herbs and then lie in the open starlight and watch the skies. Again though, it’s not something that will only benefit him. You want him to ask you to do something or go somewhere that will be for him. He needs to take care of himself. 

Just past noon, he finds you behind a wagon, hidden from sight of the others. He grabs your hand, taking you from your work. He tries to kiss you again, but you just dodge out his grasp with a playful smile. 

“Darlin’, I will do whatever you want,” he says softly. “Hell, I’ll walk into the middle of this camp and declare my love for ya right now. Is that what you want? I know you’re gettin’ tired of hiding.” 

You put your hands on your hips. “While tempting, Arthur, that’s not what I want. Have you really not figured it out yet?” 

He shakes his head and puts his hands up. “I gotta admit, no I ain’t figured it out yet.” 

You smile again. “Well, think back to our conversation this morning, it’ll come to you.” 

He just sighs and walks away. As he does, you hear him muttering something about the mysteries of women. 

********************************

It’s sunset and you’re sitting on the edge of Horseshoe Overlook on the cliff gazing out across the canyon and its river. You’re watching the first faint stars coming out as the sky grows darker. Arthur sits down beside you, having just finished his stew. 

“You gonna relinquish yet?” he asks with a smile. 

You grin back at him. “Never. You figured it out yet?” 

He just looks away, his lips stretched into a small smile. “Maybe. I ain’t too sure, not like my streak is good. But, I had an idea.” He reaches into his satchel and pulls out his journal. You’ve never looked inside it, nor have you asked him since it’s no mystery he’s a very private man. He holds onto it tight and then undoes the straps. He flips it open to a page that has an incredibly detailed drawing of a piebald stag. He lets you inspect it, though you know he’s nervous. 

“I never knew you could draw, Arthur,” you say softly, admiring the strokes. 

“Just somethin’ Hosea taught me, and… I taught myself some too.” 

He hands the book to you and allows you to flip through the pages, even reading some of his entries. You admire his writing, he writes with a beautiful hand. You smile and look at him. 

“It’s beautiful, but why you showin’ me this?” 

“Because I love you. Because… I want to be able to be completely open with ya, darlin’. Hide no secrets, share my fears with ya.” 

This is big of him. There’s hardly a person in the world you truly knows the depth of Arthur Morgan. Even around Hosea, he plays the big dumb brute that many people see him as. You’ve known for a long time how sweet, gentle, intelligent and caring he is. In fact, he probably cares too much about the people in the gang. 

You gently close the book and hand it back to him. He’s so damn close to earning that kiss, but you feel as though he has more to add. He takes the journal and puts it back in his satchel. He lays his hand on yours and looks out across the canyon. 

“I was thinkin’,” he says slowly, “maybe tomorrow, you’d come with me. Help me find some… some colored pastels.” 

“What for?” you ask. He’s growing hotter. 

“I always wanted to experiment with ‘em, think they’d make my drawin’s better. It’ll be a trip though, probably have to go all the way down to Saint Denis to find ‘em. Valentine won’t have ‘em, I know that.” 

“Arthur Morgan, are you asking me to help you find something for you?” you say. 

He sighs and smiled, looking at you finally. “I guess I am. I know it’s selfish, but-” 

You cut him off with a kiss. Not one on the cheek or even on his hand like you’d done earlier. Right on his warm, slightly dry lips. His hand goes up to your cheek and he moves with you. After a moment, you pull away from him. 

“This is all I wanted,” you say. “It’s not selfish to take care of yourself just as well as you take care of everyone else, Arthur. You deserve to be loved too.”

He smiles, his thumb tracing over your cheek. “I don’t know what it is you see in me, but I’m glad you do.”

He hesitantly leans in, looking for another kiss, and you give it to him. He moves closer to you, moving you so you’re nearly in his lap. His strong arm winds behind you, his hand planting against your lower back. You loop your arms behind his neck, trapping him against your lips, but he doesn’t seem to mind. Neither of you care if anyone else sees you, tangled around one another like this. 

After a few moments, you pull away slightly breathless. You slide your hand over his cheek, feeling his scruff scrape your palm. He puts his hand over yours.

“I just want you to take care of yourself, Arthur. I love you, and you should love yourself too. I know you’re a good man, despite your mistakes and sins. You’re too hard on yourself.” 

He kisses your palm lightly. “I don’t know what I’d do without ya, honey. Probably end up dyin’ within the year if it weren’t for you.” 

You kiss him softly again. “That’s not happening on my watch.” 

He smiles. “Good, feels nice to have someone watchin’ my back. So we’ll go tomorrow when I get back.” 

“Get back?” you say, pulling away slightly. 

“I won’t be gone long. Just have to go collect another one of Strauss’s damn debts. From some do-gooder named Downes. I won’t be long.” 

“You better not be. Just as long as he doesn’t kick your ass. Know some of these debtors try to.” 

He grins. “If you’d seen this man, you know he won’t. There’s no way that man is takin’ me down.”