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6emo6zombie6 · 5 months

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RDR2 relationship/sexual headcanons -- F!reader

(Arthur, John, Dutch)

I've been seeing these a lot, and it would be fun to share my own. So, here you go! Warning for NSFW stuff though ;) I might make more of these in the future but I'm out of ideas for other characters at the moment.

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Arthur:

Absolute sweetheart, will do anything for you.

Can’t stand to see you crying. Usually, he’s reserved, but around you, he’ll coo softly and hold you in his arms.

“Shh… hey, I’m here. You’re safe.”

Always shares his food when he’s around you. And if there is no food, he’ll share his cigarettes.

He won’t admit it but loves it when you pick flowers for him. Usually, he keeps them in an empty whiskey bottle beside his bed.

Will ask you to help him pomade his hair, though you both know it’s because he likes getting scalp massages.

He’ll somehow always find a way to escort you.

“I’ll walk with you to your horse” “Need me to come with you?” “You sure you’re okay goin’ on your own?”

Not a fan of holding hands, though he’ll have his arm over your shoulders or around your waist most of the time.

Looooovessss hugging you from the back.

Not opposed to you grabbing his ass once in a while.

Loves forehead kisses, whether it is receiving or giving them.

~~~~~

Not rough in bed—rather thorough. He won’t break the bed or have it slamming against the wall, but he spends a while preparing you. Foreplay lasts an hour minimum until he decides you can take every inch of him.

Will overstimulate himself if it means you’ll cum.

Not loud, but he takes pride in hearing you moan his name.

If he doesn’t have the energy to have full-blown sex, he’ll sit you on his lap and finger you until you’re trembling.

Not the biggest fan of receiving head, since it makes talking practically impossible for you, and he hates silent sex.

Enjoys handjobs while making out, though usually he’ll only accept one if he’s drunk.

Constant compliments.

Lap sex??? To Arthur, there is nothing better than holding you close while you bounce on his cock.

John:

Not all too touchy, but he’ll stare at you like you’re an angel 24/7.

Likes it when you hug his side, especially if you're shorter than him so he can tuck you under his arm.

Will randomly polish your shoes or your saddle.

Never forgets to give you a kiss when he leaves camp.

Usually confused when you’re upset or angry, but he’ll try his best to talk you through it.

Very protective of you, especially around other men. He's constantly worried that you might get hurt.

Stubborn as a bull, though he means well. The two of you always seem to be making up for arguments.

Always the big spoon.

Never skips out on a night of drinking with you.

Lets you sit on his lap, though usually only when he’s tipsy.

~~~~~~

Obsessed with hearing you plead. He’ll make you beg for absolutely anything.

If you’ve misbehaved in any way, he’ll punish you with abstinence.

On the other hand, he praises you for everything you do right.

“Yeah, that’s it, good girl.” “atta girl…” “You’re doing so well.”

Always on top. Probably because his ego is a little fragile.

Likes to switch between quick sex and passionate sex every once in a while. One day he’ll be ramming into you for twenty minutes, while the other he’ll spend the same time just getting you undressed.

Dacryphiliac—he loves watching you cry for all the right reasons.

“You look so pretty like that, sweetheart.” “Look at you, such a mess for me.”

Only loud when you are.

Very courageous in bed, but he gets shy the next morning when the majority of the gang starts teasing him for the marks on his neck or the foul noises they heard coming from his tent.

Dutch:

(This one is for the girls with daddy issues, bear with me.)

Almost exclusively calls you pet names, never your actual name.

Stuff like “Sweetheart”, “sugar”, “My girl”,,, etc.

He’ll make sure everyone knows you’re his, usually introducing you as his girlfriend right away.

Likes picking out your clothes for you.

Tells you about the books he reads whenever he can.

The absolute master at calming you down. Whenever he sees that you’re upset, he’ll take you to his tent and sit you on his lap, then he’ll calmly talk things over with you until you’re calm again.

Yeah, loves having you on his lap.

Enjoys braiding your hair or pinning it into a bun.

Loves hugging you from behind when you’re doing your chores or talking with other gang members.

Will bathe you whenever he gets the chance.

~~~~~~

Rarely ever takes his clothes off, but forces you to be completely naked all the time. It adds an extra layer to the power dynamic that the two of you have In bed.

Bends you over his lap and spanks you whenever he feels you pay too little attention to him.

Also loves fingering you on his lap, though it’s more to tease than to make you cum.

Will go absolutely crazy if you sit on his lap and grin your ass into his bulge. It doesn’t even matter if anyone’s around because he’ll just excuse himself and drag you into his tent.

He wants everyone to know how good he makes you feel. If you’re not moaning his name or whining under his touch for everyone to hear, he’s not interested.

He expects you to follow every order that he gives you. You’re not getting his touch if you disobey.

You calling him “sir” makes him instantly grow hard.

Always leaving scratches and hickeys on you for other people to notice.

Enjoys lightly choking you when making out, just to show what could happen if you were to misbehave.

#arthur morgan #john marston #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 smut #red dead redemption 2 smut #rdr2 headcanons #Dutch van der linde #rdr2 fanfic #Dutch van der line x reader #john marston x reader #arthur morgan x female reader

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rosegasly · 8 months

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wish on elevens. | pg10

⇢ summary: "Sure mon amour. Podium's a good look on you anyway," you quip, scrunching your nose and smiling in an attempt to ignore the way your heart stops and beats again, racing twice as quick and strong. ⇢ genre: fluff ⇢ pairing: pierre gasly x reader ⇢ a/n: celebratory post dutch gp podium fic coz how can i call myself a g10 girlie if i dont write today. stoked.

He's dripping, sweat and champagne coalescing into sticky sweet droplets that bloom on your tongue when you kiss him, hands against scruffy cheeks. "You did it amour! P3!!"

The dark of his alpine hat sits low over brilliant blue eyes that gaze back at you, glistening with joy so infectious you wonder how everyone around you isn't utterly in love with Pierre Gasly too.

"Chérie, we did it." He says and you shake your head fondly, eyes still locked with his as affection bubbles and spills over somewhere behind your ribs, heart jutting out with the love you have for this man and you are crying. Vision blurring as you throw your arms around him again, uncaring of how the champagne and sweat stain your front as you sob into his neck.

"I am so so proud baby. you deserve this! you were so good, so brilliant-" it's hard to speak around the growing knot in your throat but you push through, "I love you so much! You drove incredibly. I was screaming by the end," you laugh as you squeeze him tighter, pull him closer, "My voice is shot. What a fucking day."

Strong arms wrap around your waist, broad shoulders hunching to nestle you against the hollow of his clavicle and you scratch your skin, cheeks pressing softly against his fireproofs as you laugh again, unadulterated delight spilling out of your pores and you don't even want to think how cheesy you both look. Swaying, giggling and wet in his side of the Alpine garage as you celebrate his podium.

"I am so glad you made it today chérie," Pierre pulls back, catching your eyes again as he continues in a voice so soft one would be hard-pressed to say it was him screaming in the team radio less than thirty minutes ago, voice shrill and so far from his usual gravelly baritone. "You are my lucky charm. Je t'aime babygirl. Let's repeat today again, a hundred more times." He says, words sincere and accent thick as ringed fingers caress your cheek, idly wiping the stray tear and you tug him closer by the collar of his fireproof.

"Sure mon amour. Podium's a good look on you anyway," you quip, scrunching your nose and smiling in an attempt to ignore the way your heart stops and beats again, racing twice as quick and strong.

The admission, subtle as it may be, isn't lost on you. You've known Pierre long enough now to realise how carefully he words his responses, never unwittingly promising more than he is willing to give and while with someone else you would chop the words to post podium adrenaline, with Pierre they ring true.

Time suspends for a beat, you don't make any proclamations, don't directly promise anything back but the way you carefully caress his cheeks, the way Pierre lets his inhibitions go, surrendering and nuzzling your palm, the blue swimming in his gaze still holding yours, for once uncaring of the flashing cameras not ten feet away as he melts into your arms, boneless when you pull him in an embrace again–it's enough.

Neither of you says more, but then you don't have to. Not when you already know you'll come back, time and again, fly to any corner of the world without a second's hesitation to have his back. Cheer him on from the sidelines as many times as he needs, and all the times he doesn't, but you would still be there anyway.

The words form on your tongue, but they don't come out, bitten back and cluttering behind your teeth as you try to shield your heart–to no avail.

They don't have to escape to be heard, not when they ring so loud and evident between your breaths.

Pierre Gasly owns your heart and for however long he wants you back, you'll let him keep it.

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simonsomeriley · 2 months

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dutch van der linde with a

younger reader

1k words | female reader

@bisca-connell445 for you lovely <3

cw: (legal) age gap (r is in her mid-late 20s, dutch is in his early 40s), infidelity & unfaithfulness, dutch is a tad bit insecure, maybe ooc (?)

my apologies i accidentally ended it off in a cliff hanger 🥲 enjoy this blurb

You've had your eye on him for a while. An older, territorial, & handsome grown man with confidence in his step. Who wouldn't want him?

Of course you haven't said anything about it, much too shy to do so.

You don't know what pulls your attention to him. Is it the experience, how a man like him has experience under his belt, not afraid to take the lead in unnerving circumstances.

He's the epitome of tall, dark and handsome, you think. At least for you. You'd never say it to his face, mostly unsure of what he thinks of you.

Little do you know, Dutch sits in his bed at night, replaying your conversations in his head, overanalysing every word he says, did he come off to strong? Too distant? Too cold?

Sometimes you think he's cold with you. You're unsure if it's on purpose, but it throws you off. Usually his bubbling and sarcastic personality had never been hindered by you.

In his head, you're too good for him. He already fancies someone, after all. In an attempt not to come off too friendly, he'll accidentally come off as distant. He doesn't mean to, but he knows Molly would have the shock of her life if she found out how he looks at you.

The way the cigar hangs off his lips, the pride in his walk.

You're a proper lady, in his words. Even though you don't think that's true, you'll take his word for it.

You're a young thing, a healthy and attractive woman. Though something about you stands out to him. You're different.

He makes it less and less obvious how he looks at you, and you're sure Molly notices. You try to avoid eye contact with him, for your own good.

You think about him when you're laying under your sheets, head on the pillow, thinking about him. His voice, his confident expression, you want him. And you want him bad. This isn't good, right?

Surely if you slip up at any time Molly would notice. You're not even sure Dutch appreciates you wanting him in that aspect.

You don't see the love in their relationship. Like there's no spark. Molly defends him with her life, but to you it seems like she wants something he can't give her.

Like she's in denial.

Dutch is nonchalant, per usual he's seemingly upon his high horse, he takes pride in himself. Doesn't get dramatic.

You appreciate that in him. You see the good in him even if no one else does. You understand. At least Dutch thinks so, he'd never ever let you know. He's not risking losing the relationship you already have trying to get closer.

I could treat him better, you think. I could give him everything he wants and more, if only he'd take me. I'd say yes to him any day. Your thoughts are shaken off though,

You shake them off. You think about what he'd called you, a proper lady, you wonder what makes him think so of you. You enjoy dressing up, making your hair all pretty, laced up in corsets and bodices, wearing flowy dresses and hair pieces. You'd catch anyone's eye from a mile away, he thinks every time he sees you.

Dutch is sitting outside with Molly, eating whatever dinner there was available, pretty quietly it seems. Not a word is exchanged between them. You wonder where the tension started, why Dutch is so avoidant of her.

You come closer after spectating from a distance, you sit down at a picnic blanket a bit further away from them. Everyone seems to be out and about, minding their own business, you sit under a tree, enjoying the shadow it's supplying you.

Dutch meets your eye again, seemingly unaware of Molly's burning gaze at him. You try not to pay attention.

I wish I could read his mind, you thought. His signals are mixed all of the time.

Molly is clearly upset with him, for whatever reason, it isn't anything new to anyone.

He does his best to look proper. He freshens up his hair and his beard, he dresses in his finest suits around you and takes care of himself. His feelings were eating at him, practically eyeing you down like a hawk whenever he got the chance.

You're still standing outside now, it's night time, the stars are up and bright in the sky. He walks over to you, and your heart rate skyrockets. "How are you holdin' up, young lady?" you feel like you could die.

Usually he talks to you with confidence in his speech, fast-paced and never slurred. Right now, he looks like a flustered and smiling mess in front of you. "Dutch, have you been drinking? You seem awfully joyous this night,"

Not usually him. Just talking to him makes the butterflies in your stomach erupt. The cigar hanging off of his lips, he looks you up and down. "Well, there ain't much else to do at night, eh? You've been awfully quiet as well. Anything you thinkin' about?" he talks slurred, like he's zoned out or out of focus.

You assume he'd had a bit much. You stand and talk with him throughout the night, happy for his company and being able to see his face for however long. Eventually, the conversation gets deeper. More passionate. More... intimate. He's standing closer as well, he smells of whiskey, cigarettes and floral perfume. That must be Molly's, you presume.

He's looking you in the eye as he speaks about the things he's passionate about, like he can see right through you. You put your hand on his shoulder, a way of grounding you. Or him as well, as it takes him by shock, his eyes widen and he looks at you like you're crazy.

Is this too much? It can't be, if he had had enough of you, he wouldn't have been sticking around for so long. No doubt. He reciprocates after a while though, sneaking his arm around your waist. You smile at that, he isn't so distant after all.

Now it was only to figure out how to make him yours forever.

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moeitsu · 23 days

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The Tie Which Linked My Soul To Thee

Hi everyone! I have a new ArthurxOC fic up on Ao3, so I figured I would share it here as well. Please let me know what you think :) Ao3 Wattpad Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch.5 Ch.6 Ch.7 Ch.8 Ch.9 Ch.10 Summary: Kate McCanon, a young widow from the north, meets outlaw Arthur Morgan. When the two cross paths she discovers a complex man wrestling with his own sense of right and wrong. As their unlikely bond deepens, Kate becomes determined to guide Arthur towards a brighter path, even as tensions rise within his gang led by the enigmatic Dutch van der Linde. With danger lurking at every turn, Kate must navigate treacherous territory to protect those she holds dear, all while finding love in the most unexpected of places. 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

Chapter 1 - The Frost Gleams Where The Flowers Have Been

1890

Kate had never fancied herself a skilled woodworker. While she had lent a hand to her husband in constructing a barn, her role mostly entailed passing him tools and bringing him his lunch. But as she stood amidst the sawdust, tears streaking down her cheeks, she grappled with the daunting task ahead. She lacked both the sufficient wood and the patience to craft two coffins. Thus, the inevitable decision emerged: they would be laid to rest together.

The Reverend's suggestion to cremate the bodies, emphasizing the need to eradicate the disease completely, fell upon deaf ears. The mere thought of reducing her beloved husband and precious baby girl to ashes felt abhorrent to Kate. Instead, she harbored a tender hope that one day, perhaps, they would blossom into a magnificent Willow tree.

Amidst the melancholy chore, the vibrant symphony of birdsong provided a bittersweet backdrop, reminiscent of the lullabies she once crooned to her infant daughter. With a sorrowful melody humming in her heart, Kate toiled diligently, her hands blackened with grime, each wipe across her tear-stained cheeks a testament to her grief. As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting their modest farm in a golden hue, Kate's work pressed on.

Night descended swiftly, cloaking the world in shadows that seemed to stretch for an eternity. Kate, perched upon her porch swing, found no solace in slumber. Her vigil was solemn, her gaze never wavering from the rough-hewn coffins that cradled her entire world within their confines.

With the break of dawn, the Reverend returned, his disapproval evident, yet tempered by resignation. Together, in a somber silence, they labored to fashion a final resting place. By mid-afternoon, the grave stood ready, a solemn abyss awaiting its occupants. With the Reverend's assistance, Kate tenderly lowered her cherished husband and daughter into the earth's cold embrace.

As dusk settled, the Reverend offered prayers and parting words before taking his leave. Left alone in her sorrow, Kate felt the weight of despair bearing down upon her. In a world forged by men and seemingly devoid of solace for a solitary widow, she found herself with no recourse but to depart.

Beneath the twilight sky, the epitaph etched upon their shared gravestone bore silent witness to her profound loss:

Here Lies My Beloved Noah, And Our Beautiful Daughter, Lorena.

May God Keep Their Souls.

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

1899

As the sun rose over the horizon, casting its golden rays across the sprawling expanse of Emerald Ranch, Kate found herself amidst the ebb and flow of another day's labor. Nine years had slipped by since the tragic loss of her husband and daughter, a span of time marked by wandering footsteps and the pursuit of odd jobs on her journey westward.

She had once heard her father say they had family in California, he had many sisters but only kept in touch with one. Kate wrote to her after the death of her husband, seeking asylum with a relative with nowhere else to go. Her Aunt wrote her back and gave her condolences, she said Kate would be welcome with open arms.

However, the last she heard of her Aunt was 7 years ago. But still, she continued west. She had come too far and been through too much to stop now. What she hoped to find in the valleys of California, she did not know anymore. Over the years she became more cowboy and less of a woman, her once soft hands now calloused by years of labor. The untamed plains and cold hard ground had become both her refuge and her bed.

She came to Emerald Ranch only a week ago, her boss; Seamus, was reluctant to hire a stranger, let alone a woman, to help on the ranch. Kate assured him she was cheap labor and was only looking for shelter and a place to rest until she was on the move again. Kate was no stranger to odd jobs, she took any work she could get and saved as much as she could. But she was no criminal.

She heard Seamus talking to two men as she filled the troughs with clean water. The gentlemen said they were new in town and looking for a partnership, one in which they could both make money.

“Look I ain't no idiot, and I don't trust folks outta the blue. If you want to work together then you're gonna have to prove to me you’re worth my time.” Her boss's voice raised above the usual noise of the barn animals.

“Of course! We’re only interested in a partnership, just looking to make a little extra money.” Carried the voice of an older gentleman.

“No doubt. I do interesting very well. It's trusting that I don't do so well.” her boss answered, still not convinced by the two strangers.

“Look at us, we’re honest as the day is long,” said the other man with cheer.

“You really want us to prove ourselves to this clown Hosea?” said the other voice, sounding much younger than his partner.

Seamus scoffed, “good day to you, Hosea.”

“N-now wait a minute Seamus. Arthur can be rough, and quick with his tongue, but I swear you can trust him, you can trust me.” Hosea pleaded, following Seamus to the side of the barn. Kate now had a clear view of the new “business partners”.

Kate didn't know Seamus very well, but she could tell he was an honest enough man. Wise for his years, and liked to keep his nose out of trouble. “I’m an old man Hosea,” he began, “and you know why I ain’t dead yet?”

“Because you don't trust idiots,” Hosea finished.

“Exactly.”

“We’re not idiots, Seamus. Let us prove it to you.” Hosea had an air of confidence, he wasn't some runaway bum looking to make a quick buck. He was serious about a partnership. Although Kate wouldn't say the same for his partner, who loomed behind them like a panther ready to pounce.

“Okay…I’ll tell you what, old Bob Crawford and his boys just bought a beautiful stolen stagecoach from up north. It’s in their barn. Now you go get that,” he looked around for anyone who might be listening to his scheming, “then we can work together.” He said quietly, placing a hand on Hosea’s shoulder.

“Who’s Old Bob Crawford?” inquired Hosea.

“An acquaintance of mine…well, not just an acquaintance. He’s my cousin, by marriage.” Seamus explained.

“Oh so now we’re meddlin’ in your family business?” Arthur boasted with skepticism.

Hosea waved him off and continued speaking, “Where is he located?”

“Now hang on a moment, you boys could very easily take this coach and sell it yourselves for a pretty penny,” Seamus began.

“So you comin’ with us? I thought you didn't want to be involved in shady business?” Arthur spoke up again.

“Heavens no, if my cousin saw me it would be my death. I'm sending someone with you, as collateral.” Seamus turned around and saw Kate already watching them, he waved her over.

Arthur shook his head disapprovingly, “nah, I don't do babysitters Seamus.”

Kate was just as skeptical about her part in this, she told Seamus she was looking for honest work, and robbing his cousin certainly falls out of that line.

“She’s not babysitting . She’ll take you to my cousin's farm and let you do the robbing. Kate has been working for me for a few days now and she’s tougher than she looks.” Seamus said turning to Kate, “I want you to make sure that stage coach gets back to me. You don't need to take part in the robbery.”

“You’re fine with them robbing your cousin?” She spoke in a hushed tone so only Seamus could hear.

“By marriage,” he added, “and yes, I would love it. The man’s been a thorn in my ass for years.” He said amused.

She nodded in acknowledgement and turned to get a good look at the two strangers. One was indeed much older than the other, with cropped white hair peeking out from under his hat. The other gentleman was tall and burly, and he hid his eyes under the brim of his hat. He seemed wary of strangers and kept both hands resting on his gun belt.

“Let me get my horse saddled and I’ll meet you boys at the intersection leading out of town.” She spoke, Hosea nodded and was already making his way to his horse. Arthur stood for a moment eyeing the woman, no doubt playing the intimidation tactic. But Kate had seen far scarier men than him in her days. “Y'know the quicker we get this done the quicker you fellas get paid.” She noted.

Arthur scoffed and finally followed Hosea to his horse, “don't need no damn babysitter,” he grumbled kicking dust.

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

Kate made quick work of saddling her black Hungarian roan, she calls Lorena. After her infant daughter. In a moments pass she was on the dirt road leading out of Emerald Ranch and toward Carmody Dell. She waved for the two men to follow her, they stayed behind her a short distance and made no effort for small conversation.

However, she overheard snippets of their own conversation as they went, “I thought you wanted me to be the strong arm? That's usually how it goes,” Arthur spoke.

“Yes but..” Hosea hesitated, lowering his tone a little, “you know how this works.”

“Cmon Hosea that fellers a joke, he don't even trust us enough to handle it ourselves. Now we got a chaperone.” Arthur complained loudly, at least he’s not calling me a babysitter , Kate thought.

“All the better, he won't cause us any problems. And I cant blame the guy for sending the girl. Two strangers looking for quick money? Hell, I’d want assurance too.” Hosea answered, “besides, if he’s sending protection that means there’s big money to be made. Seamus wants his cut.”

Kate came to the same conclusion, up until now Seamus had given her the usual ranch-hand tasks. Feeding and cleaning mostly. This was very different, there must be good money for this stage coach.

“I guess you’re right,” Arthur muttered.

Hosea mumbled something back to Arthur about “hanging up their hats” if they couldn't finish a job as easy as this. They laughed and began chatting about their travels in Emerald ranch, Kate tuned them out and began humming a song to her horse.

Her singing always pleased her horse and calmed the girl’s nerves. She was a strong and fierce steed, but jumpy and needy like a baby sometimes. Kate thought naming her horse after her daughter would bring her closure, instead, she was almost convinced that her daughter's spirit lived on in Lorena somehow. In all ways except biological, her horse was her baby.

Carmody Dell was a short distance north past the train tracks and Fort Wallace, Kate had passed it once before. They rode at a steady pace, the men behind her never coming too close. She wondered for a moment what their story was, and why they needed money so bad. Perhaps they were travelers like her, maybe they even had a caravan. She entertained the thought of traveling with a group again, but shuddered at the memories. Her previous caravan adventures had not ended well.

Once the ranch was in view she slowed and allowed the boys to catch up on either side of her. She led them to a grassy clearing off the road.

“You should continue on foot from here, I’ll stay behind with your horses.” She said dismounting. The two of them nodded and dismounted their horses, Kate was almost surprised to hear no objections from Arthur.

“C'mon son, let's see what we’re dealing with here.” Hosea commented walking towards a large rock in front of the house.

“Son”, so they are family . She mentally noted. Arthur gave his horse a pat, “be a good girl for the lady” he said, tipping his hat towards Kate. She was slightly taken aback by the sudden politeness.

She busied herself with the horses for a bit while the men laid out their plan, she gave Hosea and Arthurs horse a treat and was about to start brushing his horse when he approached her again. Startled, she backed away from his mare, she didn't want him to think she was snooping in his saddle bags.

“You can keep brushin’ her, she loves attention,” he half smiled reaching up and petting her snout. “I just came to tell ya’ we’re gonna wait till it gets dark. Less chance of getting caught that way.”

“Smart,” she replied, for whatever reason she suddenly felt very shy in his presence.

He stood a few feet away from her and she could see more of his features. He was around her age. He had short dirty blond hair under his leather hat, and bright blue/green eyes. Her eyes lingered over his body. He was big too, more than a foot taller than her and well fed and muscular. His bicep had to be the size of her head alone, and she could tell by the fabric of his button down he had a bit of a belly hidden behind his gun belt.

“What’s her name?” His voice broke through her awkward silence.

“Who?” She asked and looked back at him.

He chortled, “the black beauty you got over there,” he nodded to her horse.

Oh, duh! “Her name is Lorena, she also loves attention but she’s nervous around new people.” Kate answered, still a bit lost in her thoughts.

Arthur made a clicking sound with his tongue, reaching out a hand and slowly walking toward her horse. “It’s alright girl,” he cooed while she sniffed his palm. He pulled out a peppermint and gave it to her, which Lorena happily accepted.

Kate smiled at the interaction, “you introduce yourself to my horse before me?” she teased.

“My apologies ma’am,” he turned to face her, “names Arthur Morgan.”

“Nice to meet you Mr. Morgan, I’m Kate McCanon.” She reached out her hand and he shook it. His grip was firm but polite.

“Likewise, Miss.McCanon. That’s Belle your brushin’, and that’s Silver Dollar.” He pointed at Hosea’s horse. “I saw this beauty when we first rode into Emerald ranch, had no idea she was yours tho.” He was talking about her horse again, “told myself I’d inquire about buying her if she was available.”

Kate smiled at the affection he was showing for her horse, she knew Lorena was a beautiful mare. She often received compliments on the road, and many have offered to pay for her purebred.

“I’m sorry to disappoint you, but she’s not for sale.”

“Well I can certainly see that,” he laughed, “she seems happy though. You must take real good care of her.” He said, his attention still on her mare as he scratched under her chin.

“You some kind of horse breeder Mr. Morgan?” Kate asked.

Arthur laughed, “no no. Nothing like that, though sometimes I wish I was.” He smiled as he said it but Kate noticed there was a sadness in his tone. “I just think they’re neat is all.”

They had only just met, and while Arthur was not initially the most pleasant, she found it incredibly cute how enraptured he was by her horse.

“I should probably also apologize for my rudeness earlier, it’s been a rough couple weeks for us and we uh- don’t always take too kindly to strangers.” Arthur took off his hat as he spoke and held it to his chest, a sincere gesture.

Kate was shocked, the man she met at Emerald ranch not even an hour ago seemed like a completely different person than the man before her. His cold demeanor was gone, or at least reined in at the moment.

“No apology needed Mr. Morgan. I understand,” She answered. “Although I wouldn’t call it rude, you were just skeptical. Rightfully so, can I ask what brings you to Emerald Ranch?”

Arthur looked away from her as he spoke, choosing to focus on her horse. “We’re just stayin’ in the area for a few weeks. Passin’ through and tryna make money.”

“By robbing stagecoaches?” Kate said in an amused tone, “you a bunch of outlaws or something?” She continued, half-joking.

Arthur looked at her with surprise, “What? No, we uh- got laid off from the railway. Up-north. Just looking for money so we can find a place to settle down again. That’s all.” He looked away again, avoiding her gaze.

“I’ll say it again, by robbing stagecoaches?” She kept her tone playful, but wasn’t entirely convinced by his story. But it felt good to be the intimidator.

“Wasn’t our idea, Seamus asked us to rob his cousin!” His voice rose slightly with anger.

“By marriage,” Kate retorted.

Arthur was about to speak again but only stared at her.

“I’m just pulling your leg Mr. Morgan.” Kate laughed. “It’s no business of mine. I’m only passing through here, same as you. What you do here and how you earn your money is your business. As is mine.”

Arthur scoffed, suddenly amused, did this woman just tease me?

He went to speak again before another voice interrupted them, “Arthur! Get over here!” Called Hosea. He pointed a finger at Kate as to say this isn’t over and walked away.

Amused with herself, Kate grabbed an apple and sat down against a tree. Watching the sun set as she waited for the cover of night so the two men could pull off their heist.

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

Kate woke suddenly to the sound of horses moving. She quickly got up and looked in the direction of the ranch. Sure enough the stage coach was steadily moving down the path away from its place in the barn. She quickly mounted her horse and trotted over to them.

“Nice work! Follow me back to Emerald Ranch and try to keep it in one piece.” She called up to Hosea who was driving the coach. With that she clicked her tongue and took off ahead of the coach at a steady but quick pace. Not wanting to get themselves caught.

Before Hosea could crack the reins he looked to Arthur as he was about to get in the coach, “you ride ahead with her. I got this.”

Arthur looked confused, “why wouldn’t I ride with you? The horses will follow.”

Now Hosea was giving him an amused look, “I heard you with her earlier.”

“And?” The cowboy replied slightly annoyed.

“You’ve never fumbled our cover story so bad!” He quipped, “it was like listening to a child tell it!”

Arthur shook his head, “now you’re playin’ match maker old man?” He teased, trying to hide his smile.

“I’m just saying it wouldn’t kill you to go talk to her son."

Without another word Arthur nodded and dismounted the coach, getting into the saddle and riding off to catch up to Kate.

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cowboydisaster · 10 months

Note

Daddy Dutch HCs about an F!reader who is smart yet bratty, but also inexperienced in a lot of ways and tries to hide it by being a smartass? i.e: being a virgin, never having drank herself, etc., Arthur too if you want. NSFW or SFW, or both!

Headcanons: Dutch x inexperienced reader

a/n: hello everyone I'm officially back with my first piece of content since my little hiatus!! Hope you enjoy, love y'all <3 Sfw and nsfw headcanons are separated and labeled!

Dutch is shocked when he finds out how inexperienced you are. You talk with such bravado. He was damn near sure that you had as much experience as any of the other gang members. How wrong he was.

your first drink:

The first time Dutch takes you out for drinks, and you admit you've never touched a bottle before, he's floored. "You mean to tell me that- a sight as fine as yourself, and you've never had someone buy you a drink before?" He'll chuckle, sliding a bill fold across the bar. He'll buy you your first drink with some light teasing. You meet his teasing head on, using your quick tongue to defend yourself.

He makes sure you drink responsibly. He wants you to have fun, but he doesn't want you getting hurt, sick, or arrested. Dutch will drink less that night to keep a close eye on you and ensure your safety.

He'll help you ride home, pulling your back against his chest in the saddle to aid you in safely returning to camp.

Dutch will get you comfortable in his bed, making sure to have some tonics, cold, wet towels, and water on standby for your inevitable first hangover.

your first smoke:

Again, Dutch is shocked when he finds out that you've never smoked. Immediately, he pulls a pack of cigarettes from inside his coat pocket and lights a match on his boot.

"Just like this, my dear. Watch me." He'll whisper, bringing the cigarette close to his lips, "First you want to pull the smoke into your mouth and let it sit for a moment, then inhale it down to your lungs."

Dutch takes a pull from the cigarette before exhaling it through his nostrils. Them he's passing it over to you.

You follow his instructions but still wind up coughing the smoke back up.

The next day, Dutch will buy you a pack of premium cigarettes from the store, telling you that "Practice makes perfect."

⚠️ NSFW:

Dutch catches on to your inexperience by the time you tell him you're a virgin. He's not so surprised.

He'll kiss your neck, feel the jumping nervousness under your pulsepoint while his hands search your body.

"Why don't you let me show you, my darling?" He'll ask in between kisses. "I'll make you feel incredible."

When you give him your consent, Dutch won't talk you through everything, but he will focus intently on your face and composure, making sure that you feel good and are comfortable.

He'll dirty talk. A lot. This man gets off on praising and worshipping you. Expect: "You're so beautiful.", "You're doing so well.", "Just like that.", "Does that feel good?", "Perfect."

He's poetic in bed, you find. "Nothing, in all my years, has amounted to your beauty." He'll whisper against your ear.

Again, he worships you. Especially because you're new at this, but your pleasure always comes first. He can't get enough of it. The way your face draws up when you experience bliss for the first time with him-- he's obsessed. It's almost too much, how many times he'll bring you over the edge.

He's not a big cuddler when it comes to aftercare. He's more the type to clean you up and take care of you. He'll give you a bath, clean you up, and read to you while you soak in the hot water. He'll pour you a drink and ask you how you feel; if you're okay/comfortable/have any regrets. Which you don't of course. He's a gentleman the entire time, making you feel safe and loved.

bonus: This man is obsessed with forehead kisses. He kisses your forehead when he first slides in, and every time he praises you, he's pressing his lips to your forehead with his eyes squinted shut in pleasure.

#dutch van der linde #dutch van der linde x reader #dutch van der linde headcanons #rdr2 dutch #dutch van der linde x female reader #dutch x reader #dutch van der linde x you #rdr2 fandom #red dead redemption two #red dead redemption 2 #dutch van der linde imagine #rdr2 headcanons

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zvdvdlvr · 11 months

Text

- in which they watch you die

☆ - featuring :: arthur morgan, john marston, dutch van der linde

☆ - warnings :: death, coarse language, death threats, smoking, murder, reader's gender is not specified, pov changes

☆ - k.j.'s diary says... this writing is both short and not my best work. sean maguire, javier escuella, charles smith will be in part two

☆ - ARTHUR MORGAN

my fault, all my goddamn fault was all arthur could think when he watched your body fall in slow motion to the ground.

"arthur!" dutch called over the loud gunfire. arthur was unable to tear his gaze from the warm blood leaving the four bullet holes in your side dripping onto the ground.

he told you to come into the bank, to help him get up to the roof to snipe the guards. he told you to leave the relatively safe position you were in to come help arthur with a job he could do perfectly fine alone. he just wanted you out of there and quite unfortunately, you died because of that.

"get up to the roof, son!" dutch yelled, shoving arthur out to the alley of the saint denis bank.

"'m sorry, y/n. god i am sorry. i ain't- christ. . . i ain't mean to getcha killed. shit, i ain't even know where you were," arthur mumbled. he climbed three ladders before he got to the spot that would do him well.

he killed every guard he saw with a headshot, spilling the oily bastards' brains onto the ground and walls of the glorified 'city of the future'.

not five minutes later the man arthur called his brother was shot in front of him too.

ain't that just the way, arthur thought. the man's jaw was sore from how hard he was clenching it, and his eyes stung like nothing else.

"let's go, damnit!"

the gunslinger was pulled to his feet.

arthur was pushed forward. "we need to get out now so there aren't more dead later," dutch said.

and that was that. . . for now.

☆ - JOHN MARSTON

it was completely preventable, what happened to you. at least from what john heard.

of fucking course he had to be locked up the day you died.

he had looked around when he got back, a wry smile pulling his lips thin. past arthur's shoulders, past sadie's unsmiling face. "where's y/n?" he asked, smile faltering.

sadie swallowed, eying arthur. "uh. . . y/n-"

"is dead," arthur finished. "agent numbnuts, uh, ambushed us. we were all good up until the end, adrenaline. . . adrenaline wore off. y/n fell behind me," arthur explained, avoiding eye contact with john. "they showed me two bullet holes they'd been hidin'. . . y/n died in my arms. talkin' 'bout you." arthur clenched his jaw and sniffed.

sadie looked uncomfortable. she'd gotten close with y/n and she had been crying alongside arthur while y/n spent their last minutes just talking with the pair. it's been so long since i've just talked with someone. ain't know how much i missed it, they had said. miss you asshats already, was one of the last things that had bubbled up from y/n's bloody lips.

"we're sorry, john."

"did- did you bury them?" john's voice wavered dangerously.

sadie nodded. "we can, uh. . . show you."

the rest of the day was a blur. a mix of voices, the slur of a familiar voice. john didn't know what to do.

☆ - DUTCH VAN DER LINDE

"goddamn it, y/n!" dutch yelled. the man's voice was hoarse from lack of sleep and water. his irritation stemmed from plans going wrong, scores being set-ups, and his own gang showing slowly showing their distrust.

"what, dutch?" y/n asked tiredly. they massaged their temple.

their most recent argument was because of y/n tackling dutch to prevent him from being shot in the shoulder. because of this, dutch missfired his bullet and eventually their getaway stagecoach was blown up.

"you have nothing to say?! no apologies!? we could be halfway to tahiti right now, y/n! if it weren't for you-"

y/n scoffed in disbelief and ran a hand down their face. "if it weren't for me saving your life? how much do you even know about tahiti, dutch? i trust you, i have faith in you, i believe in the power of this gang but please. we need to take our time with these pla-"

"don't you tell me what to do!" dutch strode over to y/n who was shaking their head.

y/n- clearly done with the conversation- made their way to their horse. from the faint lamplight, y/n could make out javier and charles both watching the interaction. micah tipped his hat to y/n; micah didn't talk to y/n enough to hate them. john watched dutch and y/n from the fire, already sensing something in his gut.

the anger radiating off of dutch was downright murderous. y/n hadn't even done anything wrong! john gnawed on his lip, one hand unconsciously drifting to his holstered gun.

"we are not done talking about this!" dutch grabbed y/n's arm and yanked hard.

"fuck!" y/n cried, instinctively jerking away from dutch's touch. y/n tore their arm from dutch's hold and, because of all the power that y/n used to get away from dutch, fell forward. a loud snap followed right after y/n collided with the ground.

a morbid choking sound fell from y/n's lips as their head made sharp contact with a rock. y/n felt blood rush to their head because of the odd angle y/n landed in: their head was below their broken legs.

dutch stood, parayzed in his spot. blood flowed out of the side of y/n's head, sliding down the dirt in rivulets. "i'm sorry," he whispered.

"y/n!" javier called, running to where y/n lie. charles followed closely behind, along with john and arthur.

charles set both of their lookout lamps by y/n's head. "be calm, y/n, you're okay," charles soothed, clutching their hand.

javier grasped y/n's other flailing arm, tears springing into his eyes. "you're okay. por favor- please- keep your eyes open," he begged. "mrs. grimshaw will be here soon, yeah? she will get you all fixed up."

arthur shouted for the women to hurry up because he knew y/n probably wouldn't survive this.

charles kept mostly quiet, checking y/n's pulse at random. javier was telling a story, talking about all the beautiful sunsets and sunrises in mexico. john waited off to the side, watching tilly and mrs. grimshaw and abigail share a look before giving arthur a terrible look.

dutch fled. he got on his bright white horse and left. he didn't know how to deal with thaf. he just killed you. you are dead because of him. dutch felt tears roll down his face. he felt the softness of his horse's hair. and he also felt the burning two foot hole in his chest because of the hollow, fearful look in your eyes after hitting your head.

on and on he rode, never stopping and never stalling. with no destination in mind, dutch figured he'd ride till morning then go back to help bury you.

you. you are his new ghost.

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marvel-redemption-omega · 2 months

Text

I'm working on a lengthy Adam x !bratty!fem!reader. I want to be able to upload it this evening, but I'm miserable and sick as a dog (running fever plus other stuffs, guessing it's covid again) and I just wanna apologize for the delay in content from my blog. I left y'all hanging like 3-4 years ago with my RDR2 fic and then I give y'all a stupid Hazbin Hotel shitpost that y'all DEVOURED.

Gonna try and feed y'all with more content but we'll see!

#hazbin hotel #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #dutch van der linde #dutch's boys #fanfic #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel adam x reader #hazbin hotel smut #rdr2 smut #adam hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel angel reader #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel brainrot #hazbin hotel dom adam #hazbin hotel dom adam x bratty female reader #i might have 99 problems and liking fictional characters and writing smut about them is every fucking one #smut #hazbin smut

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imwall-e · 7 months

Text

Until we meet again : Chapter 1

Pairing : TB!Arthur Morgan x Reader

Warning : MAJOR SPOILERS IF YOU HAVEN'T PLAY THE GAME, major character dea•th, tuberculosis, angst, (tell me if I forgot some), reader but external POV

A/N : I wrote this a few months ago and finally decided to post it. I'm really proud of this chapter, my best work so far (imo). I first wrote it in French and mostly used Deepl to translate the text, and even if I re-read it, they may be some mistake so don't hesitate to tell me! This is not beta read. This is my first work for the Red Dead fandom and I hope it's good. Consider liking, rebloging or commenting if you like my work (and feel comfortable with that of course).

The atmosphere of Beaver Hollow was already being felt long before we arrived at the new camp. The area was dark, damp, stinking. It was as if it were haunted. Cursed. As for the cave, it was a concentration of all that, only worse. Once home to a local gang nicknamed The Rejects of Murfree, it bore indelible traces of the horrors it had harbored. The smell outside was unbearable, but inside was a vision of dread. Blood was visible from floor to ceiling, pieces of decomposing corpses smeared all the way down to its entrails. Impossible to settle inside.

Where just a few weeks earlier the gang had been celebrating their exit from the snowy mountains, and everyone was ready to give their all to make a new place a comfortable place to live, now there was no laughter to be heard. Not a smile was to be seen on any of the faces. Only whispers, distrust, fear and death reigned.

And Arthur… his coughing fits were becoming more violent, and more frequent. His skin was pale, contrasting with the blue of his eyes, which betrayed his illness and fatigue.

Outlawed, hunted by the Pinkertons or opposing gangs like the O'Driscolls, he'd been shot at many times. And yet, he was dying of tuberculosis. A fucking disease. After all, he'd probably earned it with the life he was leading… had led. His punishment for beating up Mr Downes. A good man, always ready to help others even though he didn't have much.

Arthur, who'd never done anything right. Or so he thought, but she was always there to remind him otherwise. After Mary, after Eliza, he never thought he'd fall in love again. Then she'd come along, and offered him more than he thought he deserved.

Arthur had met her while hunting. She was wearing a long white dress. At first, he thought he saw an angel. Then their eyes met. He saw the fear in her eyes and decided to put down his bow. He introduced himself and she gradually seemed to calm down. After a few minutes' silence, she finally told him her name. Her voice trembled, but she'd asked for his help: she was supposed to be getting married that very day to a man she'd never met. But what she was looking for was freedom.

She wanted to travel. To discover. To live. And Arthur had offered her all that. For five years, they'd been happy together. Arthur had even proposed to her while they were still in Blackwater. But they'd kept it a secret until things got better.

Unfortunately, the moment never arrived.

Micah was a traitor. And Dutch had blindly followed him, going so far as to question the words of John and Arthur. He'd rather believe a dangerous madman than those he considered his own sons.

Arthur should have left after the Blackwater massacre. Hosea had tried to warn him when they'd all fled to Colter. Or he should have let Micah hang at Strawberry. If only he'd been willing to open his eyes to what Dutch had become. To his true nature. If only.

But it was too late now, and there was no point in dwelling on the past. Now he had t o protect those who remained. Tilly had already taken Jack to safety. Abigail was safe thanks to him and Sadie, and the two women had left to join Tilly. Mary-Beth and Karen had probably escaped too. She was the only one left. And he knew exactly where she'd be safe.

He helped his young fiancée onto her mare, then settled down behind her. He wanted to smell her hair while he still could. He wanted to hold her close. However, time was running out and lingering was a luxury they couldn't afford. The person he was looking for was passing through the Annesburg area, but they'd better get moving fast. He nudged the horse's flank to move it forward, and whistled for the stallion carrying the young woman's belongings to follow.

The journey wasn't long, but it went by faster than he would have liked. A dilapidated house appeared in the distance. Arthur had exchanged a few letters with the man who had taken an interest in his bleak landscape, a man he had helped not long ago. He was standing outside, setting up his camera. His gaze wandered to them, and he soon recognized Arthur.

"Mr. Morgan! I'm so happy to see you again! As you may have noticed, I've given up taking pictures of wildlife. I'm now content with the magnificent landscapes" exclaimed Albert, warmly greeting the man who had helped and saved him on numerous occasions. But his familiar enthusiasm soon disappeared when he saw the young woman's tears and Arthur's sickly pallor. "What's the matter?" he asked worriedly, abandoning his camera.

"Mr. Mason, I need you to…" but Arthur was interrupted by a coughing fit causing him to cough up blood as he stepped to the ground. "I'm dying and I'd like you to take care of my fiancée."

The young woman tried to smile at Albert, but knowing that the man she loved would soon be leaving her was too much to bear. It dashed all memories, all hopes of a better life with her cowboy.

"I'm sorry I haven't written to inform you, but recent events haven't given me the opportunity," Arthur resumed after helping his beloved off his horse.

The tears continued to roll silently down the cheeks of the woman who was to become Mrs Morgan. She was silent now, staring into space.

"Mr Morgan…", Albert didn't know what to say. This kind man, who had come to his aid so many times, was going to die. He could see the sadness in the lovers' eyes. And Albert saw only one way he could do something for them: "Don't worry, I'll take care of mademoiselle."

Arthur was relieved: she would be safe. She would live. He turned to her: she seemed no more than a ghost. But she had to fight. For him. For her. For them.

"I love you, Princess," he began, taking her in his arms. "More than you can imagine. I wish I'd said it more often. I regret so many things. But I promise we'll meet again. Not in this life, unfortunately, but in another. I'll find you again."

"We… we… we didn't even have time to get married," she managed to articulate between sobs, the crying resuming in earnest following Arthur's words.

"It wasn't our time. Now you must stay with Albert. Live, princess. Do it for me. I'll always watch over you, but promise me you won't let yourself die."

"I… I promise, Arthur."

That was all he needed to hear. He had to go now. He had unfinished business with Micah, but also with Dutch.

The sun was setting as he rested his forehead against hers. His way of kissing her for the last time, wanting to avoid her contracting tuberculosis too. He squeezed her hands and heard her whisper "I love you, Arthur".

He gently let go of her hands and she kept her eyes closed, not wishing to watch him go. To tell the truth, she was so focused on remembering his scent, his laugh, his voice, that she didn't even hear him mount his mare and gallop away.

When she opened her eyes again, the sky had darkened. A storm was approaching. Arthur was gone. Only Albert remained, looking after the stallion carrying the young woman's belongings. He knew she wouldn't move immediately, but it was time to go. He'd better get back to the cabin he'd rented before nightfall.

"Mademoiselle, I'm sorry but we must leave now. Tomorrow we'll go to Rhodes, my house is close to the city."

"Of course," was all she could reply, her gaze fixed on the mountains.

The journey to the cabin Albert had reserved was silent. The storm was roaring in the distance. She held back from joining Arthur. But she had to keep her promise.

Without Arthur, life would be difficult. Her heart would be broken forever, but she had to try. And one day, they would be reunited. She had to believe that.

The rain finally came, falling on her cheeks and mingling with her tears. She couldn't stop thinking about all those mornings she'd wake up alone. She couldn't accept that he wasn't coming back. Ever.

"Mademoiselle?" Albert's voice snapped her out of her thoughts. "We've arrived. You should try to eat something and get some sleep." He didn't know what to do or say.

She followed him silently. Inside, she sat by the window, where she could see the mountains near Beaver Hollow. Soon, she closed her eyes, tears still flowing.

Her mind took her to a river in the middle of the woods. The light wind gently moved the leaves on the trees. She was wearing a long white dress. A branch cracked, startling her. But it was only Arthur, wearing the hat he always wore and the blue shirt she loved so much.

"You're beautiful," he said, and she threw her arms around his neck. "Dance with me?" Was there an answer other than "yes"?

And, each immersed in the other's gaze, they danced. Without stopping, they talked about their future: having a ranch, raising horses, starting a family. A quiet life away from traitors and the Pinkertons. Just them.

"I love you, Arthur."

"I love you too, princesses," he replied, kissing her tenderly. A deer passed by them. Then nothing.

When she opened her eyes again, she knew Arthur was gone.

It was nearly nine o'clock when Albert and the young woman began their journey to Rhodes.

"I think you'll like Rhodes very much, mademoiselle. It's much quieter and warmer since the Gray and Braithwaite families, two rival families, entered… well, since they left."

The young woman smiled at the mention. It brought back memories that were certainly recent, but seemed so long ago. But her smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared as she recalled Sean's death.

Then came Kieran's turn. Hosea. Lenny. Eagle Flies. John. And Arthur.

Sensing that she wouldn't talk any more than she had the day before, Albert decided to talk to her about anything and everything, in the hope of distracting her from the sadness that overwhelmed her, even if only for a few minutes.

"The landscape is also much brighter. Annesburg offers beautiful scenery, but it's a very dark, eerie area. Rhodes is nicer, warmer."

Albert was right: the further they got from Annesburg, the fresher the air seemed, the more colorful and welcoming the surroundings.

She glanced back one last time, to where Arthur had remained. Her heart sank. She felt she was abandoning him. But she had to stay strong.

Finally, Rhodes appeared before them as the sun tinted the sky orange, ready to give way to the moon.

"Miss, look!"

A majestic deer had stopped in the middle of the road, staring at them with its big dark eyes.

"It's the first time I've seen one approach like that. They're usually very frightened," Albert continued.

The deer approached the young woman and rested its muzzle against her leg. She gently touched its large antlers, then the animal moved away, disappearing among the trees.

"Goodbye, Arthur."

I hope you liked this first chapter!

#red dead redemption fanfiction #red dead 2 #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 arthur #arthur morgan #first red dead redemption fanfiction #angst #red dead redemption two #red dead redemption angst #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #fanfic #dutch van der linde #sadie adler #micah bell #john marston #charles smith #albert mason

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scarfacemarston · 7 months

Note

Dutch (I'm so predictable). H.

Thanks for sending this! It really helps to send it here. Prompt here. H: Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?) Dutch seems like a pretty tactile guy! He's always clapping people on the shoulder or patting them on the back. He's not afraid of showing affection as we see with the more tender parts with Molly and is pretty affectionate with Hosea as well. PDA seems to be okay within a certain extent. Everyone knows you're his partner. I think he would feel the situation out. If you seem like the type who likes hugs, I think he'd encourage that and do so as long as he was in the right mood, but he's definitely not the type to force it on someone. Dutch is a HUGE guy. Like, canonically if we're going by Benjamin his voice performer's height, 6'4. He's also very broad. Imagine getting a hug from someone that tall and strong! I would imagine it feels very safe and given that he likes to wear soft things like velvet, it's probably comfty as heck. It feels very safe, but if you reach his face, his mustache might tickle a bit.

#rdr 2 #dutch van der linde #red dead redemption 2 #van der linde gang #dutch van der linde x reader #dutch van der linde x female reader #dutch van der linde x male reader #dutch van der linde x gender neutral reader

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donnas-dollface · 1 year

Text

Dutch: Alright Y/N, look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t have feelings for Miss O'Shea 😡

Y/N, staring lovingly at Molly from across the camp: i don’t have feelings for Molly.

Dutch, about to blow a fuse: your eyes are nowhere near mine.

#not like i wanna look at you in general 😒#red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption #rdr2 #incorrect rdr2 quotes #incorrect red dead redemption 2 quotes #incorrect rdr quotes #molly o'shea #molly oshea #molly o'shea x female reader #molly o'shea x reader #molly o’shea #molly rdr2 #rdr2 molly #dutch van der linde #dutch rdr2 #rdr2 dutch

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sickvictorianangel · 9 months

Text

☽ Dangerous Elysium ☾

A fanfic about Dutch Van Der Linde, Arthur Morgan and John Marston's relationship with fem! reader.

Summary: Your whole life changes after a traumatic night. Lost and alone, you find yourself being saved by three outlaws. As you try to adapt to this new life full of danger and drama, you start to develop feelings for Dutch, Arthur and John.

Masterlist

Author’s Notes:

So, ya girl finally decided to post the 1st chapter of the story! Guys, I really hope you like it, and if you don't just keep scrolling and don't be rude 🥺 Any constructive criticism is good and please, if you like and reblog I will really appreciate it! ♡

TW: 18+ content, eventual smut, slow burn, maybe gore, mentions of death. Minors DNI!

The story is narrated through the reader's pov. The () are the reader's thoughts.

Tag List: @photo1030 @roamingtigress @margofiore

*I will tag anyone that wants to be alerted anytime I release a chapter from this story.

♡ Dividers by Saradika ♡

♡ Dividers (DNI) by CafeKitsune ♡

Prologue:

It was late at night, darkness had consumed everything around me. The only thing I could see was a sky full of stars, shining bright like diamonds. My face was wet from all the tears I’ve cried, the gunpowder smell still lingered on my nose. My hair was disheveled, I was a picture of pity and misery. My nightgown was the only thing shielding me from the cold air around me. I lost everything that night. My house, my belongings, all my most prized possessions. And most importantly, him...

It was a normal day, I was working in the house while my husband was taking care of the farm animals. When the sky was a mix of orange and gray,we both retired for the night. That’s when a group of men knocked on my door. The night was silent, the only noise was the crickets and wind that swayed the trees. The knock sounded rushed, impatient. When my beautiful Henry opened the door, the last thing he saw was the bullet coming out of the cold pistol. I remember seeing him on the ground, his empty eyes staring at nothing, lifeless. No trace of the man I once loved so dearly.

The filthy bastards invaded my home and completely destroyed me and everything I once loved.

I still remember their cold eyes staring at the depth of my soul, the only thing I could see was pure evil, no regrets, no fear… I knew that would be my demise, and to be fair, death wouldn’t be so bad right now, the chance to be with my love again, to see my parents once more and to finally be at peace.

That’s when shots rang from everywhere.

Three men, on top of their horses were shouting and shooting at the bastards. Their green scarves, now stained with red. Bullets flying everywhere, a picture of chaos. I could swear those were the three knights of the apocalypse, ready to take the lives of those who stood on their way. My head went blank, as the tall and broad man, with a black hat stared at me. I saw his mouth moving but I couldn’t make out what he was saying. Suddenly, my feet began to move, I didn’t have control over my body. I stared at Henry for the last time and ran, as far as I could.

Now, I am here, alone and lost. With nowhere to go. To be fair, I know I can’t survive the night. For all I know, I can be the next meal to a hungry animal or the victim to a man’s greed. I would prefer being the dinner to a hungry puma than to suffer the latter. What I can’t understand is why the three outlaws allowed me to escape… For all I know, they could’ve killed me there or done even worse.

And talking about them…

The silence of the night was cut by the sounds of horse hooves, rushed, like they were on a mission. It was getting closer and closer and again, I couldn’t move. Apparently my flight or fight instinct doesn’t work. As my body shuts down, I hear their voices. The man on the white horse looked imposing. His presence alone made me understand that he was the leader. I couldn’t make out much about how he looked because everything was pitch black. Only thing I could see was the gold details on his outfit shining under the starlight. As I stared blankly at him, looking like a hopeless deer, ready to be shot, he got down his horse and approached me.

Dutch: “Ma’am, it’s okay. We are not gonna hurt you. We followed you after we dealt with the damn O’Driscolls. They are savages and I am so sorry they did such brutality to you and your…” He said with concern on his face.

Y/N: “Husband…”

(O’Driscolls… What is he talking about? The monsters that killed my Henry?)

Dutch: “You see lady…”

Y/N: “ Y/N… Y/N Y/L/N “

Dutch: “Mrs. Y/L/N, I’m really sorry you had to go through that. Sadly, you are not the first widow they made. But let me ask you dear, do you have anyone or anywhere to go?”

I don’t understand why he cares at all. I’m just another victim to these damn O’Driscolls, as he said. So why does he want to help me? What could he gain with that? I know I shouldn’t trust someone I don’t know, especially if they are outlaws, but something about the way he talks and presents himself gives me a sense of safety… And if he wanted to kill me, he would’ve done it by now.

Y/N: “I don’t have anywhere to go and I don’t have anyone. It was me and my husband, and that house and everything inside it was all I had.” I could feel the tears filling up my eyes again…

Dutch: “I see…” He took a moment to think, by his expression, it was something of great importance. And then he proceeded with a sudden question that I didn’t know how to answer. "Would you like to join us, Mrs? You see, these two (as he pointed to the two other men, the one with the black hat being the only one I can fully remember. The other, I could only discern the long hair and maybe some dark features) are not the only family I have. We are part of a big group, we even have women and a child. So you have nothing to worry about. We only want to help you.”

(A big group of men, and I suppose all armed as well…? And what could these women possibly do in a group like that?)

Thing is, I don’t have a choice. And, again, if they wanted to kill me, they would do so. I literally have nothing else to lose but my own life.

Y/N: “I would like to join you, Mister…?”

Dutch: “Van Der Linde. Dutch Van Der Linde, honey. And these two are Arthur Morgan and John Marston.”

The other two men just tipped their hats, not fully giving me their attention.

Y/N: “If there is no problem, I will accept joining your group… I just don’t want to cause any trouble. That’s all.”

Dutch: “Don’t worry, darling! (He said while opening his arms in a welcoming manner). No way you can be any bother. Now, let me help you, you will ride with me. We can make it to the camp before the sun starts to shine again. And of course, welcome to the family, dear.”

John: “Welcome, Mrs. I’m sure you will like the others. Maybe not all of them, but at least the women are alright!”

Arthur: “Shut up, Marston! Don’t go scaring the lady before she even gets to know everyone!”

Dutch: “Okay, you two. Enough! Let’s go, we shouldn’t be mingling at these hours in the middle of nowhere. I wouldn’t be surprised if more of the damn bastards showed up. Now, Mrs, are you ready?”

As I nodded, Dutch lifted me effortlessly and put me on top of his horse. We rode through the night, peacefully. He kept his horse on a slow gallop, afraid I would fall. I could feel the cold wind on my face, drying my tears as they fell freely on my face. I knew nothing would be the same again. The life I’ve lived was long gone and I would never be the same woman. I held tightly to his waist, and as I was starting to fall asleep, I heard someone shouting. From the distance, I could see the sparkle of lights and some people talking, others singing…

“Who’s there?!” (A male voice shouted from afar)

Arthur: “It is us, Charles!”

Charles: “Oh, welcome back! Eventful evening?” He said as he nodded his head in my direction.

Dutch: “Oh, you have no idea, friend! Damn O’Driscolls boys made poor Mrs. Y/N a widow.”

I couldn’t do anything but stare at Charles. He was a tall man, and looked like a nice feller. I could definitely see a glimpse of pity in his eyes as he stared directly at mine.

Charles: “I’m sorry, Mrs. They are a nasty bunch…”

John: “Yeah… But she is with us now, I’m sure we can keep her safe. At least we will try.”

(Why did he say that with a smile on his face…?)

Arthur: “Marston, don’t ya think before ya talk?!”

Y/N: “Hey, it is okay. I know he is probably joking. I’m just not in a very funny mood right now… I’m sorry.”

As I said that, trying to hold a weak smile, Mr. Van Der Linde finally spoke.

Dutch: “None of us would be, darling. After something traumatic like that, we don’t expect you to. Now, let me introduce you to Ms. Grimshaw. I know you are in a dire need of some rest, so I will trust you in her capable hands. We can talk tomorrow about how you can contribute to the gang. She is always needing some help around.”

(Miss Grimshaw was an older and also imposing woman. She was dressed in nice clothes, hair styled perfectly and classy. A woman I wouldn’t dare to mess with. But, did he say…)

Gang… So now I am part of a gang of outlaws.

( I mean, better than dying alone or being used by some sick bastard. Right now, the only thing I need is to try and get some sleep. Tomorrow is a new day, and I’m curious as to what will hold.)

♡ …I hope everything will be okay. ♡

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #dutch van der linde #john marston #arthur x female reader #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 fanfic #arthur morgan fanfiction

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melissa-kenobi · 1 year

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Trouble in Valentine

[Arthur Morgan x Reader]

Hola, I know it's been a while since I've posted any writing but here we are! A little but late but I've been so busy with work and little gremlins. Here we are a little something for Valentines although it was like 2 weeks ago, SORRY!! Special thanks to @pinkiemme for creating an amazing drawing of us in the RDR universe!!

Word Count:

***

"Is this your idea of a day out Mister Morgan?" You yelled over the chaos of guns being reloaded, bullets being shot at you, and the sound of your horses letting out a loud whine. When he'd invited you to join him for a drink in Valentine, you already knew there was going to be some sort of trouble.

To be completely honest, you knew it was never going to be a normal day with Arthur. But to be fair, this time it was sorta your fault.

"Well, if you'd have let me know you were gonna start a brawl with the woman, then I'd have planned somethin' darlin'!" Arthur retorted, making a run as he slid next to you handing you some ammo to reload.

"Yeah well, 'm sure her husband didn't appreciate his wife tryin' ta bed another man!" You hissed back, annoyed that she had actually tried it on with Arthur in front of you. She had the whole thing going on, busty up top, the small slip-up making her breasts press up against Arthur. The way she toyed with her hair as she spoke with Arthur, and the lipstick. The print she'd left on his cheek was what had ticked you off. Not that you and Arthur were official per se, but he meant more to you than your family and that's sayin' a lot. "Was just tryna help. Gotta be loyal to those you're with."

"Didn't take you for the jealous type sweetheart!" Arthur grinned, as he watched you angrily reload your gun before shooting three men straight in the head, making Arthur's heart swell with adoration. You'd taken his lessons to heart and they'd been put to good use- well if you'd call starting a fight in Valentine good use. "Thought you'd enjoy all that shit."

"Am not. Just didn't like the way she was all up on you." You sniffed back at him, not making eye contact as you quickly scanned the room, looking for the nearest exit. Mumbling under your breath you said a few words Arthur couldn't hear but only managed to catch a few of them, making his eyes widen. "Don't like people touching what's mine is all..."

Arthur tried not to dwell on your words as the two of you needed to get out of the saloon and back to camp. Although with the way you were shooting, he was certain you'd be outta here in no time. The angry look on your face had Arthur making a mental note to not get on your bad side. He watched in awe as your hands quickly reloaded the bullets before slinging them up at the men, not even giving them a chance to reload themselves before you shot them clean in the head.

Too busy watching you, Arthur didn't notice the man creeping up behind him with a knife in his hand until the perpetrator let out a loud screech and had him in a tight grip.

"Arthur!" You screamed out, eyes focused on him as he struggled to remove himself. Now Arthur wasn't a small man by any means, compared to you, you looked like a dwarf standing next to him. But the man holding Arthur back was bigger than two Arthurs' put together. "Let him go. Or I swear you'll have this bullet in your head faster than you can say 'no'."

"What you gonna do missy?" The man teased, shoving his knife into Arthur's side. "Do ya even know how to shoot that? Need a man to help ya out?"

Growling, you gripped your weapon tighter, eyes locked onto Arthur. Arthur trusted you with his life. So when you gave him a small nod to stop struggling he did, without hesitation.

"N-

The moment you saw him give you that nod, he had handed his whole life to you on a platter, now what you did with it, was up to you.

Without a moment's hesitation, the larger man was stunned that Arthur had gone slack and that was your opening- shooting the gun straight at his head, taking him back by force as he screamed in pain, collapsing to the ground, cursing you out. Arthur quickly ran to your side, and stood behind you with a hand on your waist, balancing himself as he clutched his bleeding side.

"Is he-

"I think so." You slowly walked over to the guy, Arthur following you behind slowly, taking gentle steps. It was a funny sight to some, Arthur the big man stood behind the small woman- weapon ready in her hands. The man's hand holding the knife twitched in the corner of your eye but before he could throw the knife at Arthur, you shot him in the chest once more, ensuring his death.

"We gotta get outta here 'fore the law come down on us." Arthur mumbled as he tugged on your arm, heading out the back of the saloon and back to camp.

That's twice you'd saved Arthur's life.

***

Arthur sat in his tent, mind reeling at what had just happened.

He only wanted to take you out for a nice day, treat you to something sweet, and maybe pay for a room for the two of you. But he hadn't expected any of that to happen, not at all. After the two of you had left the saloon, you'd taken charge and ridden his horse back to camp. Arthur was forced to sit behind, holding onto you for support as you rode his mare. He knew she was more than happy to be ridden by you because she trusted you, just as she trusted Arthur.

Arthur recalled closing his eyes for a few seconds, taking in the peaceful chirps of the birds that flew around. His head drooped down, leaning on your back as he let sleep overtake him.

The next thing he knew, he woke up on his bed.

***

Not a single word was said as you rode back to camp. Arthur's hands held tightly onto your waist, as he tried to keep himself awake, but succumbed to sleep eventually. You felt his head lay on your back as he dozed off. Sighing gently, you adjusted yourself so he was more comfortable and slowed down the pace of the horse so it wouldn't wake him. Lord knows he barely got any sleep, so you let him sleep on you. Despite being annoyed with him, you still cared about him more than you'd care to admit.

After you'd reached the entrance of Horseshoe Overlook, you heard John calling out from guard duty. You called out letting him know it was just you and Arthur.

"Jesus Y/N. What'd you do to him?" John exclaimed as he helped you get Arthur back to his tent. "I thought he was taking you out for Valentines day?"

You blinked a few times, trying to process John's words. Arthur asked you to come out with him for a drink, to cool down after everything that had been going on- not to be his date for Valentines'. You didn't dwell too much on it, knowing Arthur was still hung up on Mary and most probably wasn't sweet on you. "Yeah well, we- I got into a fight. Arthur was injured tryin' to help me."

John watched you with curiosity, his eyes twinkling with something you couldn't pinpoint. "If you say so. Didn't think anyone would have knocked the old man out."

"Well, he's not as invincible as you all seem to think so. He gets injured too, he has to rest- Arthur ain't as-

"Woah, hold on missy, I didn't mean nothin' by it!" John quickly backtracked, eyes widened as he tried to apologise.

"Don't call me that." You hissed at him, making John's face curve into one of worry. Just what had happened that made you so defensive John wondered. "Sorry John, I don't mean t'be rude. 'm just tired."

"S'alright love. I know, you ain't-

"Y/N?" Arthur mumbled out, hands reaching for you around his. You quickly held his hands, making sure he was comfy before you slipped a hand on his forehead making sure he didn't have a temperature. Sighing in relief as he quickly dropped back to sleep and he wasn't warm, you bent down, swiping his blonde locks away and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead before realising what you had just done. John quickly turned his head away, acting as if he hadn't seen anything.

"Not a word, else you'll find chopped up parts of your dick in your soup." You threatened John, a finger held up to his face.

"Yes ma'am." John replied submissively, avoiding eye contact with you. The two of you continued into camp until you heard Miss Grimshaws screeching over you bringing blood into her camp.

"Miss Grimshaw, Arthur needs your expertise. He was stabbed, I tied up the wound and tried my best. He ain't got a fever, he's just asleep." You quickly explained as Charles quickly took over from you and help Arthur onto the bed. Miss Grimshaw nodded in understanding before she gently took over and shooed everyone away.

"Thank you Miss L/N. He'll be alright. He's survived worse." Dutch added as he walked into the tent, seeing his son laid out on the bed. His son? More like a lap dog, never treating Arthur correctly but you couldn't do anything now, not while Arthur was still injured. Giving Dutch a small but forced smile you headed back to your tent, wanting to change out of your bloody clothes.

***

Hours later Arthur wakes to find himself in his bed, a letter by his side and your favourite flower in a small pot. He knew you loved flowers, any type you came across you'd blubber on about it and he loved to hear you go on about something you loved. Arthur had only recently found out you'd dragged little Jack into your slight obsession. The little boy didn't seem to mind, he enjoyed the attention and was frankly quite fascinated by it all.

Arthur ran his finger over the petals, watching as they responded to his touch. He thought you'd be here by his side as he woke up but you weren't. Arthur tried his best to not be upset that you weren't, perhaps Dutch had needed you for something. Now that Arthur had been off for a short while, he knew you were Dutch's best option.

So when he heard your voice cursing Dutch out he was shocked. "Damn you Dutch Van Der Linde! He needs to rest, not be sent out for another goddamn suicide mission!"

"And whose fault was it he got injured in the first place Miss L/N?" Dutch replied, eyes noticing Arthur sitting up in his cot. "My son! You're awake! I've got good news to share."

Arthur watched as your eyes widened at the sight of him. You gave him a forced smile before turning to Dutch and snatching the paper put his hands.

"Give it to me. I'll get the money." Arthur watched as you stormed away quietly mumbling some words to Marston, not even giving him a goodbye.

~~~

Arthur was bored to say the most, he never knew how boring his life was without you. He never really took the time to stop and think about how much the two of you actually did together. Now that you were separated, Arthur was at a loss of what he should do. The camp had several things that he could help with but, they wouldn't be the same if you weren't there. The tasks would feel menial, there'd be no one to crack jokes with, no-one to tease the way he did with you.

Arthur was beginning to realise how his every minute was spent with you and that he didn't know what to do if you weren't with him. He'd never actually been without you for a long time, he couldn't remember the last time he been in camp alone. It was probably back when he was still with Mary- you'd been avoiding him around that time and he was too infatuated with Mary to even notice.

Speaking of Mary, Miss Grimshaw had let Arthur know there was a letter for him. She'd been very clear and well mostly angry about it so there were no doubts about who it was from. Arthur took one look at his name written cursively at the top and instantly knew who it was from.

"Mary."

Arthur never had the chance to read the letter as his head instantly shot up at the sound of your name being called by Hosea. His eyes scanned the camp, looking around, trying to figure out if you'd made it back already. But knowing that you were pissed off for some reason, Arthur knew you weren't going to be coming back for a few days at the very least. In the corner of his eye, he spotted someone lurking around quietly grabbing his pistol he swung round, aiming straight at the perpetrators head, only to find it was Marston.

"Marston." Arthur sighed, putting his weapon down after John had jokingly raised his hands in surrender. "What are you doin', lurking around ma tent? Ain't you got nothing better to be doin'?"

"Was taking a piss, whassa matter with you? Can't a man piss in peace?" John retorted, pretending he was adjusting his trousers.

"Behind my fucking tent?" Arthur growled. John shrugged in response, not really all that bothered, just trying to slip away from Arthur's intimidating glare.

"Best spot there was around."

Arthur eyed John warily, not really sure whether he should believe him or not. But something else was already on his mind, you. You had whispered a few words to John before leaving and Arthur was now curious as to what you had said to him. "Marston."

"Arthur." John deadpanned.

"Did Miss L/N say anything t'you 'fore she left?" Arthur bluntly asked. He knew that would make John stumble over his words and hopefully spill the beans on what happened to make you so angry.

In an instant John's eyes widened as he took a step back, retreating from Arthur's questioning. "Nah, she was eager to get going didn't say much. Anyways I think I hear Abigail callin' me, catch ya later Arthur!" John scurried away but not before Arthur had tugged on his shirt, pulling him back to Arthur.

The men stood chest to chest, well nearly chest as Arthur growled at John, knowing his answer was bullshit. "Don't lie t'me boy."

"I swear!" John fumbled, eyes wide as he tried to pull himself away from Arthur resulting in Arthur gripping him tighter. "She only told me to keep an eye out for you!"

"Why would she do that?" Arthur hissed. "Cause she cares 'bout you for some reason!" John huffed as Arthur let him go, brows furrowed in confusion. "Don't ask why, I don't know what she sees in you. But she sure was angry when she saw that letter on your desk. Miss Grimshaw was ready to get rid of it but she pleaded with her kept for yer sake, dunno why, somethin' 'bout her being the 'love of yer life' I think..."

"John Marston!" Abigail's shrill voice swept through the camp and straight into John's ears as he winced. "Now that ain't none your business!!"

Now Arthur knew you were a force to be reckoned with but Abigail Marston was on a whole another level. As a mother to Jack, a woman who had been through a whole load of shit, you did not want to mess with her, Arthur knew that and so did John- but John just couldn't help himself sometimes, and this was one of them.

"Arthur, don't mind him, he don't know left from right- let alone anything about Y/N." Abigail swiftly recovered from John's big ass mouth spilling the beans. "Marston, get your ass over here, I need ya help." John gave Arthur a forced smile before trying to move closer to his wife.

"Say Abigail, you wouldn't know why Y/N ran off in such a hurry would ya?" Arthur asked, sighing gently as he took a seat on his bed, exhausted from this back and forth. He just wanted t'know why you'd left in such a hurry. He glanced at the small pot with your flower in it, his eyes lingering on it as if your presence were there with him.

Abigail watched Arthur with hooded eyes, her heart was concerned for her best friend but her mind was telling her to let Arthur know about your feelings for him. She was conflicted as she looked at the poor man, he'd been through enough, but so had you. You'd watched Arthur through his tryst with Mary, with Eliza and now yourself. Even if Arthur hadn't admitted his feelings for you, he was still playing with your feelings despite not knowing, and Abigail knew that hurt you more than you'd care to admit.

"She's on an errand for Dutch, but she'll be back in the 'noon." Abigail relented. "Arthur-

"Woah Uncle Arthur, that's a pretty flower!" Jack burst in with amazement, little curious eyes watching the flower. "I think it's a yah- yah-re-oo? Mama I don't remember the name!" Abigail's mouth remained closed as she watched her son continue observing it before explaing what the beautiful plant meant.

"But Auntie Y/N taught me that if you give this to someone it means you think they are brave, and that you've loved them for a very long time!" Jack finished off with a bright smile. "That means someone loves you very much Uncle Arthur! Who gave it to you?"

Arthur blinked back a few tears at the boys words, you loved him? Is that why you were so angry at the saloon? Because of that woman? Arthur's eyes glanced over to the letter next to the flower- or was it because you'd seen the letter from Mary?

"I-er-

"Jack let's get you to bed. I think Uncle Arthur needs to sort out a few things." Abigail quickly stepped in, taking her son into her arms. "A word to the wise Arthur, you need to make a decision. Y/N is a good woman, far better than what you deserve but she can't keep hanging onto some hope that you'll be hers one day."

"It's her or Mary." John spoke softly, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I know who'd I pick if I were in your shoes. The one who's been there for all yer ups and downs."

***

Dear Arthur,

I know it's been a while but I do miss you ever so much. I know what we had before wa-

Arthur may be a bad man, but he wasn't silly. He knew he wasn't going to fall back at Mary's feet again. But he had to know, to confirm he was making the right choice by giving you his heart, by committing to you. He'd already had his heart broken by Mary and he knew he couldn't bare that from you.

He would stop dreaming up a fantasy 'bout Mary, he hadn't done so in a while. Not in a long time not since you came along.

He continued to skim-read the letter knowing deep down in his heart, it was always you. This, this was just closure for him, to get away from Mary, to leave that chapter of his life behind and begin one with you.

Hosea and Miss Grimshaw watched from afar as their adopted son scrunched up the letter and threw it into the camp fire, ultimately ending that chapter as he bid Mary solid goodbye.

***

"Jack?" Arthur called the boy hesitantly, not trying to garner anyone's attention but the young child. "C'mere a sec, I needa huge favour from ya."

"Of course Uncle Arthur! What do you need? Shall I get mama?" Jack asked happily as he skipped over to Arthur.

"NO!" Arthur immediately replied giving Jack a little scare as he stared at the older man in slight shock. "I mean No, I don't need ya mama, I just need you kiddo."

"Okay!" Jack skipped over to his uncle before sitting at his legs. "What do you need Uncle Arthur?"

"I-er-" Arthur stumbled over his words before blurting out what he really needed from the young child. "Can ya tell me about the flowers your Auntie told yer about?"

"Ooohh!! Was it Auntie Y/N who got you the pretty flower?" Jack let out a little gasp of surprise. "Does that mean she loves you? Do you love her?"

Arthur quickly shushed the little boy with a fond smile at the mention of you. "Yeah, I do Jack. More than I realised."

~ ~ ~

Trying to slip out of camp was always a challenge but Arthur had never been one to shy away from it. He quickly jumped onto his horse but not before Dutch called out from the tent, albeit very loudly "Go get her back son!"

Arthur shook his head in embarrassment as he made his way out of camp, the cheers of everyone egging him on to get his girl back and from Sean, to give her one hell of a Valentines present.

***

It was ironic, Arthur found you in Valentine where it had all started and where he would confess everything. He knocked on your door, before he heard your sweet voice call out to come in. He pushed the door open gently, before he saw you sat on the bed, cleaning your guns.

Lord above, you surely were a sight for sore eyes, Arthur couldn't believe he'd almost ruined a real chance at a relationship with you.

"Happy Valentines Day sweetheart..." Arthur shyly approached you, a pretty bouquet held in between his fingers as he bit his lip in anticipation. "I know it's late and it ain't much, after all that's happened, but it's t-

Before he could even finish, you'd dropped your guns, leapt into his arms, your arms wrapped around his neck as you tumbled onto the ground with him. Arthur broke the fall with his body as he held you tightly, the bouquet still intact in one hand.

"Darlin'! Wha' was that for?" Arthur grinned, his arms holding your hips above him. "Almost crushed m' gift for you!"

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to run off. I was angry an-" Arthur watched as you took in a deep breath and shyly responded "I missed you..."

"I know sweethear', I didn't realise how much I needed you till you left. I'm sorry 'bout the letter, 'bout Mary, 'bout everything. I-i-" Arthur gulped, it was now or never.

"I love you darlin', think I always have, just didn't realise it till you left." Arthur smiled as he pushed a stray strand of hair away.

You admired the flowers he had carefully chosen. Yarrow for everlasting love, a red rose to express his love, and explicitly saying that he loves you and a while rose. The rarest of them all, and the most meaningful to you- Arthur had accepted that he was worthy of your sweet love for him and he would gladly open his heart for you.

"I-er had a little help from Jack with the flowers. The white rose was the hardest, but I had to have it in the bouquet." Arthur shyly rubbed the back of his head.

"I love it! And more importantly, I love you, always have done. No matter what, you'd always have me. I'd rather be in your life than outta it." You grinned, kissing his lips gently as Arthur responded happily.

"Your sure? Cos you're stuck with me for good now?" Arthur replied against your lips.

"Forever darlin'..."

"Want to extend our stay in Valentine?"

[Bonus]

Walking into the room Arthur had you blindfolded and made you wait while he quickly set up. "Honey, how long is this gonna take?"

"Keep ya knickers on, I'm almost done!" Arthur retorted, almost muffled before he told you to remove your blindfold. "Take it off darling."

Slowly stripping it off, your eyes widened in lust as you took the sight in before you. Arthur Morgan was naked on the bed with only a very large box of chocolates covering his dick. He had spread white and red roses around the bed and floor, and a scented candle lit in each corner of the room. He held a sign in his hands that read "Will you be mine forever?"

"So will you sweetheart?" Arthur asked rather hesitantly, even though he knew your answer.

"You don't have to ask Arthur. I'm yours forever long you'll have me." You smiled sweetly as you made your way over to him, opening the box and popping a chocolate into your mouth before kissing him and sharing the chocolate.

"I've always been yours darlin', long before I even knew it." Arthur grinned, tugging you closer but not before you placed a hand on his chest, stopping him with a cheeky grin and teasingly asked,

"Can I unwrap my present now?"

***

#arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan #john marston #abigail marston #jack marston #dutch van der linde #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption two #rdr2 #red dead redemption #melissa writes 💕

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softrozene · 1 year

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Dutch Gets Bamboozled

Anon asked: The headcanons were incredible! You have skill! I'm not into men but your text made me wanna cuddle up with those sweet cowboys! 💕 Mayhaps I could request some Molly with Female!S/O? When I played through Rdr2 i saved up so much money during the gameplay i could have sponsored the Tahiti trip singlehandedly so I'd love a scenario where lady reader has tons saved up and scoops Molly from under Dutches nose and they escape together! You can write it how you like but i'd love Dutches reaction!

rdr2 masterlist

I am glad that I can make you want to cuddle soft cowboys lol and you have said something that is so damn relatable. Like c’mon Dutch- take my money Dutch- It was so painful to have all that money and not be able to get their asses in gear

Anyway, this buttered my biscuits. I hope I was able to get Molly’s character down but either way, I had so much fun writing this!

#Gotta steal Dutch’s woman

Originally published on January 12, 2020

Molly O’Shea x Female Reader

Warnings: Technical cheating of a relationship, fluff, Dutch gets bamboozled

Your blood is boiling. The scene you had just witnessed yet again is getting to you. The sweet angel you have grown to love had just tried yet again to vie for her current lover’s attention only for him to speak down on her. How the hell can Dutch ignore such a Goddess? He just left with Morgan and a few others for some “important” mission that he thinks will give him everything.

Molly O’Shea, the beautiful fiery woman just isn’t getting the attention and love she deserves. She deserves so much more, especially in this cursed, hot, and sweaty forsaken swamp that surrounds Shady Belle. In short, it’s making you angry.

However, in these times, thankfully she’s been coming to you. Out of everyone in camp she chooses you when things go wrong. It would’ve made you feel used but you can see her slowly realizing that she deserves better. That the man she loves had been using her.

That her affections are growing for you and she’s slowly yearning for it.

Your heartbeat speeds up slightly as her gaze turns your way. The frown on her lips immediately turning upside down as you give her a gentle wave her over to your tent. Her graceful steps make you want to swoon.

“Miss (Last Name),” She greets.

Her voice is a slightly teasing tone since she knows how much you hate it when she is formal with you. You ignore it though knowing she needs loving attention from you.

“Molly, Love, I got ya this beauty of a scarf if you are willing to take it.”

You go into your suitcase and reach the carefully folded scarf made of the softest and most expensive material. A small gasp escapes her when she sees it. You hand it to her and she is so gentle in grabbing the scarf.

Instead of the usual thank you, Molly, seems hesitant before looking at you with determination. “I thought about your offer and I… accept,” Molly says in a slight whisper.

You are in absolute shock. The offer you gave her was months ago at Horseshoe Overlook, just when Dutch started to be terrible to her. You had jokingly said you both could run away. You never brought it up again from how loyal to Dutch she was until she was the one to bring it up at the next temporary camp near Clemons Point. Asking why and how. That’s where your flirtations were revealed to be truthful to her. That you like her and she started to accept your advances.

Sure, the money was definitely a big thing for her. However, it turned to be more when she realized you were the only one who genuinely liked her and the way she acts. She needs to feel secure and the amount you had showed her a while back as surely tripled for this very moment. The moment where she is finally yours as you had been hers.

You lick at your lips from the small bit of anxiety you feel.

“Molly, I am so pleased to hear this but are you sure? If Dutch ever finds us after, he may kill us. Of course, I would never let him but I can’t lie to you about that possibility-“

Molly cuts you off with a quick kiss to the lips. Your brain short-circuits as she grabs your hand and leads it to wrap the scarf around her shoulders.

“I’m sure (Name). I… Want to live an extravagant life with you,” Molly replies with the certainty you needed to hear.

You nod your head and smile at the view before you. She sure does look lovely in the scarf you picked out. Yes, a queen meant to be.

“If you truly accept go pack your things, Darling. We’ll leave before they get back and I promise you, in a couple of weeks we’ll be living that beautiful life you deserve.”

~*~

“Where the goddamn hell are they?!” Dutch screeches waking up quite a few people in the dark hours.

Arthur, John, and Hosea race into the house towards Dutch’s sleeping chambers. They all share a look with each other before they glance at their boss who is shaking with rage. The room was empty before but it appears emptier upon coming back from their mission.

“What’s up Dutch?” Arthur calls a bit hesitant.

Dutch turns around and points to his empty tent, “It would appear that Miss O’shea and (Last Name) took my goddamn books!”

Hosea glances into the tent and goes to pick up a singular paper on a dresser. He reads it out loud, “Should’ve appreciated the treasure you had and should’ve taken my own money when I offered. If fate is kind we’ll never see each other again. Thanks for the adventure so far Boss. Yours truly, (Name).”

They couldn’t help it. They really couldn’t. Arthur and John had to leave the building in order to have a good laugh at their boss who couldn’t keep the one woman who was ready to die for him, taken away by a true lady lover.

Bonus headcanons:

Seriously though this would’ve bruised Dutch’s ego big time

The betrayal of this act would’ve made him even madder

Like he considers himself a casanova, so a lady stealing his own woman from him would’ve been absolutely mind blowing to him

He probably thought you liked him as well if you were that close to Molly to begin with

And that would’ve made him feel cheated/made a fool but he’ll try and play it off hence the “My books!”

Molly was the one who took the books since he always had his nose buried in one

Molly would be petty enough to steal that and much more and I am living for that idea

If he knew where they were I think he would’ve gone after them because no one messes with Dutch and gets away with it, but considering how much was already on his plate he wouldn’t

#softrozene writes #rdr2 x reader #red dead redemption 2 x reader #molly o'shea x reader #female reader #rdr2 molly #dutch van der linde

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thevandermatthewsfamily · 1 year

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if dutch has curly hair then how is his hair straight in guarma???

#arthur morgan #dutch van der linde #hosea mathews #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #john marston #rdr #arthur morgan x female reader #jovier #molly o'shea #vandermatthews

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moeitsu · 21 days

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The Tie Which Linked My Soul To Thee

Summary: A well deserved hunt with Charles, met with an unexpected surprise back at camp... Ao3 Wattpad Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4 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 5 - My Heart Beats On As Warmly Now

“What began as a journey had become a retreat into the unknown. We were backing into the abyss; so worried our sins would follow us we didn’t bother watching where we walked. And behind us was a cliff.” ~ Elsa Dutton 1883

Arthur’s anger dissolved with the storm, replaced by a heavy sense of regret as he trudged back to camp that evening. All he wanted was to drown his shame in a few bottles of liquor, away from prying eyes, away from the disappointment he felt in himself. He hadn’t intended for Kate to see that side of him, not yet at least. And certainly not against a sickly innocent man. He let his anger and frustrations get the better of him. Like he switched on auto-pilot and let the outlaw in him take control. He worried now that Kate might actually leave, and he blamed himself for that.

Swiftly, he made his way to the crate of beer bottles behind the chuck wagon, grabbing a few before retreating to his tent. He craved solitude, a respite from the demands of camp life, from the weight of his own mistakes.

Seated on his cot, a beer wedged between his legs, Arthur opened his journal, the one constant in his life since Dutch and Hosea taught him to read and write. It was his confidant, his sanctuary in a world of chaos. John always gave him shit for it growing up, calling him a pansy and constantly trying to snoop in his personal entries.

Despite being in a gang for most of his life, he still felt incredibly lonely. There weren't many people he would truly open up to. So his journal became that person. It was the one thing that did not judge him, ever. But even as he poured his thoughts onto the page, he longed for a human connection, someone to truly understand him.

Hosea and Dutch had been like parents to him, raising him from a young age in the ways of the outlaw. They had their flaws, but they had also shown him kindness and guidance when he needed it most. He always saw Hosea as his father, he would consider Dutch his father too, although he was more like an older brother at times. Hosea was probably the only person who truly knew Arthur, and saw the things he wished not to speak about. Neither parent was perfect by any means, and Arthur could recognize that. But even as an adult, there is still a child inside that longs for the comfort of a father.

It was that fatherly instinct that drove Hosea to Arthurs tent that night.

“Evening Arthur,” he greeted, holding open the tent flap, “may I come in?”

He put down his journal and nodded. Gesturing for Hosea to join him on his cot.

“I noticed Kate didn’t ride back with you, is she okay out in this storm?” He inquired.

Arthur smiled with a slight shake of his head, that's Hosea for you. Always worried about others, here he was checking on his son but was more concerned about the lady he left behind.

“I’m sure she’s fine, saw her heading into Valentine,” he answered, taking a sip of his beer. He handed one of the full bottles to Hosea as the older gentleman sat down.

“I take it things didn't go well then,” he said with a hint of sympathy.

Arthur sighed, “when do they ever.”

As they sat together in the dim light, the rain drumming softly on the canvas roof, Arthur felt a sense of comfort in Hosea’s presence. He didn’t need to explain himself, didn’t need to justify his actions. Hosea simply listened, offering silent support.

“I don’t know why I do it,” he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. “The man was sick and weak, I should've just given him a warning.” Arthur concluded with a shake of his head.

Hosea sighed knowingly. “I think you can blame your fathers for that son,” taking a sip to clear his throat, “Dutch and I did what we thought was best at the time and well, you were quite impressionable when you were young. We used that to our advantage to turn you into a grade A outlaw.” He said gently with honesty.

Arthur chuckled at the memories of his youth, before John came along he was the golden child. He used to love it when Dutch would teach him how to pick locks, or when Hosea taught him a whole book of curse words. Had he not been the son of outlaws, his life would’ve looked very differently.

“We’ll always be thieves,” he mused with a hint of nostalgia, “only difference now is that the world don't want us no more.”

Hosea nodded, silently agreeing, “We're doomed just like every other creature on this rock Arthur,” he remarked with a wry smile. “I just wish I had acquired that wisdom at less of a price.”

After a moment of contemplative silence, Arthur spoke, his voice heavy with regret. "I just wish I’d done things differently," he admitted, his gaze fixed on the floor. His remorse mixed with his actions at the Downes ranch, and for every mistake he’s made in the past that led him here.

Hosea laid a comforting hand on Arthur's shoulder, a silent gesture of understanding. "We can't change the past, son," he said gently. "All we can do is learn from it and strive to do better in the future."

Arthur nodded, the weight of Hosea's words settling over him like a blanket of reassurance. "I don't want to be the kind of man who hurts others for no good reason," he confessed, his voice tinged with vulnerability. "I want to be better, for Kate, for everyone."

Hosea squeezed Arthur's shoulder affectionately before rising to his feet. “She’ll come around, son.” He offered a parting reminder, “underneath it all, you have a good heart.”

Before he disappeared into the night, Hosea turned back with a final piece of news. “By the way, your brother wants to speak with you about using that oil cart you found to rob the train tomorrow night.”

Arthur scoffed, shaking his head. “He ain’t my brother,” he muttered disdainfully.

Hosea chuckled. “Well, you two sure argue like brothers. G’night, Arthur.”

He tipped his head to the old man as he left, “night Pa.”

Arthur laid back on his cot, tucking his journal into his satchel when something small and round fell out and made a soft pitter on the ground. When he looked down he saw the peach pit, the one Kate gave him on her first night. He reached to pick up the small seed. His thumb ran over its hard wrinkles.

He held it tight to his chest, and silently promised he would make things right with Kate. If he ever saw her again.

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

Kate took in a deep breath of the crisp morning air, reveling in the freshness that lingered after the storm had passed in the night. The scent of newly sprouted grass and moist earth filled her senses, while dew-kissed leaves sparkled under the gentle caress of the rising sun. A light breeze danced around her, carrying the promise of spring on its wings. It felt like the start of something new as if the world itself was awakening alongside her. It was the perfect day for a ride.

She met Charles in the early morning, exactly where he said he’d be. Waiting for her to begin their journey into the wild lands in hopes of finding a fresh hunt. They were a few hours into their journey now, heading north into Ambarino to hunt cow elk. Just one 200 pound elk is enough to feed the entire camp for a month. Maybe more. It was a day's ride there and back, short enough to keep the meat fresh in time.

With a satisfied sigh, Kate exhaled the tension from her shoulders, “this is exactly what I needed Charles, thank you.”

Charles smiled warmly, guiding his horse closer to hers. "Thanks for joining me, Kate," he replied, his own gratitude evident in his tone.

With her face tilted to the sun, she savored the moment. Allowing Lorena to guide her. A silent trust shared between them, that her mare will take her where she needs to go. “You know, I always thought you preferred hunting alone. I never see anyone go with you.” Kate remarked, eyes still closed in bliss.

Charles nodded thoughtfully. "Arthur and I have gone together a few times, but other than that, I don't seek much company from the others," he admitted, his words tinged with honesty. It was clear that while he valued his fellow gang members, solitude was his preferred companion in the wild.

“That why you’re always so quiet?” She inquired, innocently.

Charles chuckled softly. "If the choice is folks thinking I'm dumb but not knowing for sure, and folks knowing I'm dumb because I sound like them, I think I'd rather keep them wondering," he explained with a grin. The confidence in his voice a testament to his strength.

Kate chuckled, her eyes reflecting understanding. "I get that. Sometimes it's better to keep people guessing," she replied. Under her breath she added, “I know some of those men can be pretty dumb,” loud enough for Charles to hear.

Charles exclaimed in frustration, “tell me about it! All this death and for what? Just so we can have enough money to be able to run from what we've done?”

Kate pondered for a moment, she still didn't know what happened all those weeks ago that drove the gang of outlaws here. It was the one piece of information they didn’t talk about around her. Perhaps Charles would share the missing pieces. “What happened to everyone to cause you to run?” Her tone colored with genuine curiosity.

As Charles recounted the events of that fateful day, Kate couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness for what they must have been through. The gang did not like to talk about Blackwater, and the consequences must have been devastating.

"It was a fucking execution," he began, his voice tinged with regret. "We thought it would a simple job robbing a ferry, carrying payroll. But there were civilians too." Kate could already imagine where this led. $5000 for his head alone, the words echoed in her mind.

“We raised a lot of hell that day, and things got out of control. Next thing we know, the Pinkertons are on us along with the law. And everyone just starts shooting. I don't know which one of us shot first but that's all it took. There were passengers caught in the crossfire.” He shook his head with disappointment. She couldn't imagine the terror those innocent people must have felt as they found themselves caught in the chaos.

“Dutch he,” Charles hesitated, “he killed a young girl. Just to get the law off him. And no one batted an eye.” His voice heavy with emotion. Her stomach churned at the thought of such senseless violence. “We lost three good people, and John barely made it out alive.”

He turned, facing her, "I don't kill for fun Kate; I kill when I need to," he urged, his tone pleading. It was clear that he was grappling with the moral implications of their actions, and Kate couldn't help but admire his integrity in the face of such darkness. One so hauntingly familiar.

“Arthur came out different after Blackwater,” he added with a sigh.

“Being an outlaw can’t be easy,” Kate added, trying to lighten the mood. She understood the hardships and turmoil that came with senseless violence.

Charles huffed and shook his head at the memory, “easy certainly wasn't in the job description.”

As they rode on, the weight of their conversation hung heavy between them. She couldn't shake the feeling that they were all running from something far greater than the law. A feeling she was not immune to.

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

Their hunt had been successful, tracking and swiftly killing a massive elk. They settled in for a fire and camped near a lake for the night. Enjoying fresh fish for dinner. In the morning they tied their game to the back of Taima, and began their journey back to camp. Kate’s spirit felt lightened in a way, the two of them spent most of the night sharing stories. And she realized she and Charles had a lot in common. A gentle reminder that she is not entirely alone in her struggles.

The ride home went by quickly, and with the sun tickling the horizon, they arrived at the great plains of New Hanover, and eventually, the familiar overlook.

As they rode into camp, the air was thick with urgency, Miss Grimshaw's voice cutting through the chaos. "Alright girls, everything into the wagons, now!" she barked, her tone sharp.

Charles swiftly brought their kill to the chuck wagon, while Kate hurriedly dismounted and rushed to join the flurry of activity. The girls worked frantically, packing crates with blankets and clothing, fear etched on their faces.

"What's happening?" Kate asked, her voice tinged with concern.

Mary-Beth paused in her task, her expression grim. "Arthur and John got into trouble with the law in Valentine," she explained, her hands moving quickly. "Dutch says we need to leave, fast."

A surge of panic swept over Kate at the thought of Arthur and John in danger. "Did they get caught?" she asked, her heart pounding.

Mary-Beth shook her head. "I don't know," she admitted, sympathy in her eyes. "But we have to go."

As Kate’s mind began to spiral with the worst outcomes imaginable, a voice rose above the commotion. Speaking of the man himself.

Dutch's voice cut through the chaos. "Charles!" he called out, his tone urgent. "Find Arthur at Dewberry Creek, we need a new hideout." Charles turned on his heel with a nod, mounting Taima and taking off back down the trail they came in on only a moment ago.

With his words she felt a sudden sense of relief, Arthur is okay. Their last conversation weighed heavy on her heart. And she would be damned if that was the last time they spoke.

Dutch's voice commanded attention once more. "When they give us the all clear, we move out! Let's get to work, people!" he shouted.

Mary-Beth and Tilly went back to their work and left Kate alone with her thoughts. She returned to her belongings, packing quickly. But her moment of respite was short-lived as a sickeningly familiar voice cut through the air like a bullet.

“Well hello Kate,” Micah said with disdain and arrogance.

“I don’t have time for your bullshit Micah,” Kate retorted, her patience wearing thin.

Micah advanced, his eyes blazing with hostility. "Funny how you show up right when trouble finds us," he taunted.

Kate scoffed, the idea completely absurd, “you idiots robbed a fucking train, did you seriously expect a welcome home party?” She shot back, her voice filled with sarcasm.

Micah's gaze narrowed. "We were set up in Valentine, someone ratted us out," he growled, his words dripping with bitterness.

“I was just hunting with Charles,” she explained, not bothering to hide the bite in her voice, she refused to play his game.

Micah approached with malice, his fist twitched at his side, ready to pull his pistol any moment. "Well Charles ain't here now,” he gestured around the camp, “and we think it was you," he hissed, the accusation cutting through the chaos.

Realization dawned on her that he was setting her up, but the reason why was still unclear. “And when Charles comes back he can testify to that,” she spat, turning to continue her packing.

He closed the distance between them with predatory grace. In one swift motion, he raised his pistol. Before Kate could react, the butt of the gun connected with her temple, sending a searing pain shooting through her skull. Stars exploded behind her eyelids as she stumbled backward, the world spinning dizzily around her. Darkness threatened to engulf her.

As she struggled to regain her bearings, Micah loomed over her, a twisted smirk playing across his lips, “we’ll be long gone by the time they come back princess.”

With a sickening thud, Kate's head hit the ground, the impact reverberating through her skull. As the world faded into blackness, she felt herself being pulled into an abyss of darkness. The last sound echoing in her ears was the distant whinny of Lorena, a mournful cry that seemed to fade into the void.

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

The commotion of the camp kept her drifting in and out of consciousness for the next hour. She heard Abigail's voice call out to Kate in concern, and Micah snapped back warning her to keep her distance. She also realized her wrists had been bound along with her ankles, with Micah standing guard over her like a dog. Like she could run away in this state anyways.

The darkness began to creep in again, and in a moment she awoke and Micah was gone. It was almost dark and she was in a different spot now, away from the center of camp and behind the tree line. That fucking bastard tried to leave me here. She thought with bitterness.

In the midst of the chaos, a familiar voice pierced through the camp, but Kate's mind was still swimming in a fog of confusion. Wagons rattled as they hurriedly departed the overlook, leaving Kate struggling to make sense of the commotion. Summoning all her strength, she pushed herself up onto her knees, squinting through the haze.

Then, like a beacon in the night, Arthur's horse appeared, Belle’s white coat gleaming amidst the darkness. With a surge of relief, Kate locked eyes with Arthur, who rushed over to her side, his expression etched with concern.

Her consciousness flickered like a dim candle in the wind as she slowly regained awareness. The throbbing pain in her head was a harsh reminder of what had just transpired. Blinking away the haze, her vision blurry.

"Kate? Are you alright?" Arthur's voice cut through the fog, filled with concern as he took in the sight of her bound wrists and ankles. Swiftly dismounting Belle and pulling a knife from his belt to cut her free.

Her head throbbed as she recounted what happened and she felt sick in the stomach. She couldn’t stay with them anymore, not after this. Micah was a real problem, and if what Charles told her about Blackwater is true, then Dutch is likely the same.

“I’m okay,” she answered wearily, “Micah set me up,” a hint of fear mixed with rage creeped into her voice. Arthur helped her rise to her feet, just as the last wagons were leaving the overlook. Without missing a beat she turned to find her horse.

Arthur was slightly taken aback, unsure if she was still upset with him from the nights before, all while trying to make sense as to why Micah had set her up.

“I-I’m sorry Kate,” he pleaded, “I shoulda been here,” his voice was laced with remorse. His strides quickened as he closed the distance between them. Kate's heart clenched at the sincerity in his voice, but she knew she couldn't stay.

“It’s not your fault,” she reassured, “but I have to leave.” She decided in the moment, ripping the bandaid clean off. She longed to stay with Arthur and the gang, but she no longer wanted part in this trouble. “Goodbye Arthur,” she bid him a solemn farewell.

“Kate,” he called out, desperation filling the air. He wanted to stop her, to grab her and beg her to explain what happened with Micah. But the look in her eyes told him everything he needed to know, she had made up her mind. So all he could do was stand and watch as she rode off.

She clutched at Lorena’s reins, taking off in the same direction as the wagons, intending to ride past them and make her way to Rhodes, hopefully putting enough distance between them so she could get her bearings and be on the move again. Her heart raced with adrenaline and disappointment. Things could not have taken a turn for the worst.

She used the darkness to her advantage, slipping away from the wagons as they took a path down following the railroad tracks, while Kate veered off towards the twin stacks. As she climbed altitude she watched the wagons below, specifically watching Arthur take off behind them, his mare flying through the train of carts and horses like a butterfly dancing between flowers.

She paused for a moment, letting herself consider that perhaps she wasn't just running away out of fear, but something else as well. She thought about the girls, and Charles, who had just become a dear friend after their hunting trip. She thought about Abigail, who must be clutching little Jack close to her heart at this moment, praying John will see his family out of this alive. Her last conversation with Arthur still ate at her heart, so many words went unspoken that she wished she had said that night.

Memories of her past came back in waves along with the painful throb of where she had been hit with Micah’s gun. Her fear, mixed with her disappointment and anger. A reminder of her own weakness.

Yet, she decided long ago that she would never live in that kind of world again, where the weak would rather guilt the strong than become strong themselves. This world doesn’t care what the weak want. This world eats the weak. Therefore, she became strong.

The sudden sound of gun fire dragged her from her thoughts, she rode farther up the slope looking for the source of the noise. She saw in the distance the tiny images of wagons and horses, and a group of raiders descending to their location..

Gripping the reins with such ferocity, Lorena reared on her hind legs as Kate spun her around and took off back down the slope. She would not let death sink its venomous teeth into the belly of another.

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