#hey gang! chose violence last night and whipped this out in a day! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

reddead-cancerian · 5 years

Text

Home || Arthur Morgan x Reader

You left to protect them only for him to find you at a saloon in Valentine years later.

Word Count: 1138

Read on ao3

masterlist

“Dutch, Hosea, I’m sorry it came to this. You know I love you both like fathers, but I can’t put y’all in danger,” you stood inside Dutch’s tent while everyone else was asleep.

“We understand, my dear,” Hosea’s voice was laden with sadness.

You embraced them both knowing it was your last time you’d ever see them. These men saved you from the life you lived. The were the reason you made it so far in life. You left them with a sad smile before making your way to your horse, preparing for the treacherous journey.

“Where you goin’ darlin’?” it was Arthur.

“I’m just going into the next town for work, I’ll be back soon,” you kept your tears at bay.

“You better come back to me, you hear?” Arthur brought you in for a kiss, holding you close like he always did.

“I promise,”

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

It had been nearly a decade since you’ve parted ways with the gang. You knew you had to leave for their sake, for Arthur’s. You got caught up rather carelessly during a job that went south quick. Your bounty grew too heavy to even lift, putting you on the run until the law caught up to you. The memories still affect you to the present day. You can’t seem to remember how long it’s been since you escaped, taking the lives of those who would remember your face. You’re not proud of your actions.

In the middle of your ride, you stopped at a saloon in Valentine. A few shots of whiskey and a room seemed far better than canned food and sleeping on the ground.

You stood at the bar ordering a few shots of whiskey, disregarding the men gazing at your body. You prayed to be left to drink in peace, as you noticed a man situate himself next to you.

“Hey, there sweet pea,” he slurred.

You chose to ignore him staring straight in hopes he leaves.

“Why don’t we go upstairs and have bit of fun so you can learn your manners when a gentleman is speaking to you,” he grabbed your wrist.

You pushed him, watching as he fell into some of the other patrons, “I ain’t goin’ nowhere with you.”

The man grumbled as he launched himself off the ground and lunged at you. Experience prevailed in a flash, sending him flying backwards in a dramatic fashion. Figuring it was his time to leave you grabbed the man by his jacket and threw him out the saloon. You turned to see the attention now on you, the last thing you wanted.

“Anyone else got a problem?” They quickly resumed, finding better entertainment in drink.

You returned to your spot and took a shot down, feeling someone accidentally bumping into you. Turning around you were met with a rather large man with his hands up.

“My apologies madam,”

“Arthur! Let’s go back before Dutch gets mad!” a raven-haired man rasped out.

Instantly you were frozen to your spot with your beer midair. Your eyes met with the man and he seemed to realize who you are.

“(Y/N)?”

Arthur’s head whipped to look at you, but you had already made yourself halfway out of the saloon. How could you not have seen it? Of course you’d meet him in the one place you’d always be. Delight and terror formed in your stomach like vinegar and oil.

“(Y/N), stop!” his voice bellowed behind you.

You had just reached the forest outside of town when he cut you off.

“Get down, (Y/N). I ain’t chasing you.”

Once he realized you weren’t going to leave he dismounted and helped you off your horse, backing you into a tree. Fear encased you unknowing if he was going to shout at you or hit you. You close your eyes waiting for either action, but it didn’t happen. His hands were caressing your face as if he was trying to figure out if it was really you in front of him.

“Is it. . is it really you?” his voice was soft.

You nodded, looking into his beautiful eyes. Gone was the boy you grew up with, replaced with a handsome man who knew nothing, but violence.

“I-I thought you was dead! We all did! But now here you are right in front of me, in the flesh,” his voice rose at every word, the pain seeping through his tough facade.

“I’m sorry,”

“It’s a bit late for apologies now. You going to tell me why you left us? Left me? I told you to come back to me and you never did. So why the hell did you leave?!”

“Because I had to! That last job I had went poorly and I had to run!”

“You didn’t think that we would be able to help you?! That’s what family does, we help one another!”

“They was going to kill all of you just to get me! I couldn’t let that happen!”

“So you sacrifice yourself?! You give yourself up to them just to let them hurt you?! You know I’d give my life to save you!”

“That’s why I couldn’t stay, Arthur! I couldn’t live in a world without you in it if I knew I could prevent it! I would give up my life in exchange for yours. I paid the price to save you and I will do it all over again.”

Puzzled he did not understand what you meant, so you pushed your hair back revealing the scars. He took note of the large scar running diagonally on the right side of your face close to your eye. The rope scar on your neck, knife marks, and burns on your arms. You suffered all for the sake of saving him. He wanted you to tell him what happened, his eyes were pleading.

“I don’t want to speak of it. I did what I had to do and I’m not proud of it. Once everything was done I was going to return, but I got wind you became a father,”

Arthur tensed up and let out a shaky breath. It was all the information you needed as you pulled him in hugging him close. Guilt enveloped you thinking of the pain he was forced to go through. You wanted to apologize; take all his pain. When the tears stopped he pulled himself away. His eyes gazed upon yours, his thumb wiped your tears then grasped your chin leaning towards you, lips connecting softly. He felt the same as the last time. It felt as if time stopped.

“Come back with me,” He sensed your hesitation and it frightened him, “I cannot go without you again, please (Y/N). Come home,”

That night you spent it wrapped in his arms tightly around you.

Finally, you felt safe. You were home.

#arthur morgan x oc #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption 2 fanfic #red dead x reader #read dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption #rdr2 #rdr2 fic #rdr fic #rdr 2 #rdr 2 fic #arthur morgan x you

132 notes · View notes

ugh-supersoldiers · 7 years

Text

Safe Place

MASTERLIST

SEND ME A REQUEST

Characters: Bucky x reader

Summary: The pastor’s daughter isn’t supposed to yearn for danger and adventure, but it’s all you can think about. You’re in desperate need of an escape from your town, and when Bucky Barnes causes you to put yourself in impeccable danger, it seems you might have found your ticket out.

Warnings: A little violence I guess? Fluffy, Bucky being cute asf and catching feelings, bad editting fo sho sorry

Words: 3752

A/N: Not sure how I feel about this one, I had to whip it up quickly for a cute anon request who preferred it if I didn’t include the prompt in the description. Well, here ya go anon, hope you like it xo

Bucky Barnes was an anomaly, a complete wild card. Bucky Barnes was beyond the reasonable control of the law and fate alike. Bucky Barnes was the single black ink spot that bled into the crisp white pages of the book that you wrote for yourself. And Bucky Barnes was most certainly a bad idea.

The beautiful good girl falls for the rugged bad boy, it’s a classic story, really, but this fable is far from the old cliche. The ‘bad boys’ depicted in such tales were troublemakers, maybe the skateboarder that smoked a just bit too much pot, or the low ranking member of the town’s local gang seeking a pretty girl to bandage his bloodied knuckles. Bucky Barnes was neither one of those characters, he was an entirely different breed of man.

A biker, leather jacket and all. That’s what you’d figured he was when you first laid eyes on him. Just another biker on just another Thursday night on just another hour at the same old bar you’d been coming to for ages- under the radar, of course, that’s why you always chose weekdays instead of the coveted Friday or Saturday pub crawl spot.

“Hey, (Y/N), mind lockin’ up when you’re done?”

The bartender asked you, and you nodded your head.

You see, you’d gotten a bit of a reputation at no fault of your own.

Small towns have small minds, that’s what you’d grown to understand, and being the pastor’s daughter, it was like the entire town held you on a pedestal of trust and virtue from the moment you were born. And you absolutely hated it.

You were raised a certain way, and abided by your parents rules as you grew up... or so you lead them to believe. As a teenager, you’d ventured over to the parties several towns over just to get a taste of the wild life that you craved.

And it just so happened that wild life would come at your in full swing on this ever so fateful night.

When you laid eyes on him you knew in your heart that he was trouble, a certain kind of trouble you’d never encountered, at least not in this close. His jacket clung to him, his choppy brown hair hung around his face, framing his piercing blue eyes with an air of recklessness.

Beautiful moving artwork, his tall and broad frame walked across the small and - aside from you - empty bar. Perched on your bar stool, you watched his every move, and you knew that he felt your eyes on him.

A shared glance was held for only a moment, and a delicious tension filled moment settled in the air, one that you wished would’ve lasted at least a minute more, but it didn’t. He was gone just as quickly as he came, disappearing through the back door like many passersby did.

A frown settled on your face as you took another swig of your drink, your thoughts wondering to the man, the gorgeous and intoxicatingly mysterious man that you knew would plague your mind for weeks.

A moment- a single moment in his presence had your wound for tightly with an overbearing sense of anxiety fueled excitement that you couldn’t even think straight.

Your heart sank. You’d hoped that someone would take you away from the simple life you lead, and fantastically and ever so naively, you’d hoped that it would be him when you laid eyes on his frame.

Why? You didn’t know, he just had a certain quality - a vibe maybe - about him that made you feel something, and God did you ever yearn to feel.

Your world was black and white, or at least the world that you coexisted in. The world you craved was colourful, with adventure looming around every corner. But this town sucked that dream out of you with every passing day you spent there.

You’d just graduated college and now all of the sudden you were expected to find your own life, make your own way into the world. Well, that prospect turned challenging when the only life pathway that was available to you was living here for the rest of your life, forever carrying the title Town Sweetheart.

Another sip of the stiff drink in your hand helped you momentarily forget the resounding feeling of hopelessness. It felt like for a second, you were able to rid yourself of the torment of your pre-written epilogue, but perhaps it was just the uncomfortable burn of alcohol down your throat that worked as a distraction.

You set the now empty glass back down on the bar counter and sighed heavily, about to get another round for yourself but you nearly jumped out of your skin prior to the chance arising.

Gunshots rang through the glass bar windows, shattering them into shards, falling to the floor with loud clangs.

A shriek came from your throat, and you dropped below the bar counter to take cover from whatever the hell just nearly killed you.

The loud bang of the back bar doors brought you only slightly back into reality. You watched as legs moved, his legs moved. It was the man you’d been before, you knew it by the gate.

A gun was cocked, and you feared that perhaps you might never make it out of this town for a whole other reason aside from merely being trapped by reputation and status.

Six shots rang out again, the muzzle of his gun giving off smoke that fell slowly to the floor, you watched in with wide eyes.

There was a cry from outside the bar. Whoever shot first must’ve been hit by the man in front of you.

He moved towards the bar counter you were tucked under, and you prayed with everything you had that he would just leave you be, but as you saw his knees bend you knew it wouldn’t be the case.

He was at eye level within seconds, and you marveled for a moment at the colour of his eyes. The stare you shared was intense, as if each one of you was desperately trying to wither build a bridge of trust, or burn it to the ground.

Heavy breathing was the only sound that was expressed between you for what felt like minutes, far too long given the circumstances of your meeting.

A small tear slipped from your eye and fell down your cheek, a memento from the horror that you’d felt moments earlier. You watched his eyes soften when he noticed it.

“Come with me.” He said, extending a gloved hand to you.

You nodded your head, taking his hand and letting him pull you up with a strong tug. A warmth spread through your body, one that you knew was at his fault, but one that you knew was completely one sided.

This man had no interest in you, this man was most likely a criminal of some sort, but for a reason that you couldn’t understand, he was choosing to save you instead of getting rid of you, like he very easily could have.

He took you down the back of the bar, out into the grubby old parking lot in the dark of the night. Moonlight illuminated the chrome of a motorcycle that he ushered you to before dropping your hand and fiddling with the gun that he’d stuck back in his pants, checking the ammo you assumed.

“What’s your name?” You asked quietly.

He looked at you, eyebrow cocked upwards, as if he was slightly confused by your question.

“My name?”

“Sure, everyone’s got one,” You said, “I figured I should know yours given the fact that you probably saved my life back there.”

A dry chuckle left his lips, “Most people wouldn’t call that a rescue.”

“I’m (Y/N) (Y/L/N).” You whispered, unsure if introducing yourself first was the right reply to such a statement since he avoided telling you his name.

He hesitated as he put the gun back in his pants, but nodded his head, “Bucky Barnes.”

“Nickname?” You asked.

“Somethin’ like that.”

Faint sirens blared in the air, and you watched him tense.

“We gotta go.” He said.

“We?” You asked.

“Look, people knew that you were in that bar, which means they know that you saw me and when they don’t find your body in there,” He pointed back to the shattered windows of the building, “They’re going to come looking for you.”

“What in God’s name are you talking about?” You asked, your voice getting louder.

You’d figured it was some sort of driveby, a stunt, an insane random act of violence, but the way Bucky was putting it, it seemed like he knew it was planned.

“Do you seriously have no idea who I am?” He asked.

“Of course I don’t!”

“Stop yelling.” His voice went so firm that you felt your blood run cold, and you closed your mouth.

“Who are you?” You asked him.

He opened his mouth, but police sirens blared out even louder, and his entire body flinched.

“We need to go.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you-”

“(Y/N), if you want to live, you are going to get on this fucking bike and I’m going to take us somewhere safe, do you understand?”

You were infuriated by his audacity to imply that you would just hop on the back of a motorcycle and drive off with him, but you were also terrified of what’d he’d said about people coming for you. The entire situation was crazy, but your heart sped up at the idea of running away from the town.

A nod, that was all he got from you, but it was enough for him to get on, with you behind him, and speed off.

The ride felt like ages, your arms wrapped firmly around Bucky’s waist as your hair whipped behind you. Streetlights blurred in every direction until you finally came to a stop at a rather seedy looking motel.

Bucky parked the bike around back, and escorted you into a room.

It was nicer than you’d expected, but small. The curtains were a stark white, walls a colour of beige, grey sheets on the neatly made bed. It was boring.

You sat on the mattress, and looked at him quizzically.

“What the hell was that?” You asked.

“I’ve done some bad things.” He said, averting eye contact.

“So I gathered.” You mused.

His eyes jerked up to see your smirk, and his face softened only slightly.

“You ever heard of someone called the Winter Soldier?”

You tilted your head to the side, trying to think of the familiarity of the name.

“I think so. Isn’t that the guy that Hydra’d been using for years until he finally got...” You looked at him and your eyes widened, “It’s you.”

He sighed, “Yeah.”

“They were trying to kill you.”

“Yeah.” He repeated.

“Why didn’t you just kill me too?” You asked him seriously, your voice barely above a whisper.

He looked at you, “Because I’m not going to kill someone who’s innocent.”

You looked away, hating the word he used to describe you. Innocent was apparently one of the only adjectives that people could use with you, and you despised it with a passion.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me for not killing you.” He said.

“I’m thanking you for saving me.”

He shrugged off his jacket, not returning with a reply. You watched as he crossed the room, the thin material of the long sleeve shirt he was wearing clinging to his broad shoulders tightly as he made his way into the small kitchenette.

“What now?” You asked, your eyebrows furrowed together.

“Coffee?” He asked, as you listened to him shuffle about out of your view.

“I guess it’s a start.”

You huffed out a sigh, trying to rid yourself of the shakes that held your body captive. You were trying desperately to calm down, but the excitement of everything that had happened to you couldn’t be contained.

You suddenly became aware of how cold the room was, a chill rushing up your spine. Rubbing your arms in hopes of generating some sort of friction, you longed for the sweater you left behind at the down completely destroyed bar.

In your muddled grievance, you neglected to hear Bucky enter in from the kitchen with two mugs in hand.

“Cold?” He asked.

You nearly jumped off the bed at the sound of his voice.

“Sorry.” He mumbled, setting your mug on the table next to the bed you sat on.

You averted eye contact in slight embarrassment as he padded his way over to you, removing the leather jacket and swiftly placing it over your shoulders.

You had to stop yourself from purring at the blissful warmth of his body heat that still resided in the thick jacket. A small sigh of content passed your lips.

“Thank you.” You whispered.

You felt out of place with him in the same way that a toddler might feel out of place while learning to walk for the very first time.

“You’re welcome.” He said quietly.

You glanced over at the mug he’d rested on the table next to you, and reached your hands out to grasp it firmly, the blissful warmth dancing along the pads of your fingers.

“It’s black, I hope that’s okay.” He muttered, sitting in the chair across from the bed.

“It’s perfect, thank you.”

His eyes stayed on your figure for perhaps just a bit longer than normal. Bucky Barnes was fascinated by you for a reason he couldn’t quite describe. All he truly knew was that the image of a pretty girl like you sitting on his bed, clad in his worn out black leather jacket, your beautiful pink sundress peaking out from the bottom was something he never wanted to forget. lt was a type of juxtaposition that you never thought you’d get the opportunity to explore outside of the compound of your own imagination. It seemed that this Bucky character just might have broken you free.

“You’re staring at me.”

That snapped him out of it.

He looked back up at your eyes and saw a faint smile resting there.

“Can I ask you something?” You questioned, and he nodded, “What are we gonna do next?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, we’re here, and safe for the time being, but what about tomorrow?” Your eyes shifted around the room. Bucky now came to understand that you were perhaps more afraid then you lead on to be.

“We’ll keep moving.”

“I don’t have much of a choice do I?” You asked.

A little piece of him just might have shattered at your question, because if you valued your life, he answer of course was that you really didn’t have a choice.

“I can figure something out.” Bucky said.

“No.” You said.

“No?” He asked.

“I’d been waiting for a ticket out of that place for years. I think you’re that ticket.”

Bucky’s heart shouldn’t have fluttered at that comment, but it did.

“That bad?” He chuckled, sipping his own coffee.

A dry laugh passed your lips, “You have no idea.”

Bucky couldn’t help but admired the way you looked under the pale light of the motel room. You had this disposition about you that he hadn’t seen in a long time. You were refreshing.

“I’m the pastor’s daughter,” You laughed, “I sort of have a legacy.”

“Pastor’s daughter? Now that’s a title.”

“A title that traps you into a certain lifestyle forever.” You took a long drink of coffee, “But I won’t be trapped anymore, thanks to you.”

You smiled brightly at him, and he couldn’t help but return it.

“You know if you come with me you’re permanently putting a target on your back.” Bucky said.

“I’d rather live dangerously by my own choice than have everything planned out for me.”

“Okay.” He nodded.

“Besides, I think at least for now I can rely on you to protect me.”

Bucky furiously ignored the swelling feeling in his chest. He shouldn’t feel connected with you, his brain was screaming at him to stop, but he couldn’t. He felt something deep in his heart that he just couldn’t ignore.

Perhaps it was the sweet air of innocence that radiated off of your with every breath you took. Bucky was drawn to it, he yearned to be close to it. You were so different than him, and it astounded him. He felt a large sum of guilt for having to drag you into the mess that he called his life, but he was glad it was him who got to protect you.

“I really did mean it when I said thank you, you know.” You said, sipping once again at the coffee.

“I know.” Bucky said.

“Do you?” Your eyebrow quirked up at him playfully, “You don’t exactly strike me as the type to accept gratitude very well.”

It was ridiculous, to be flirting with the same that almost got you killed, but there was this primal attraction to him that you simply couldn’t resist. You yearned to live closer to the edge than you gotten before, and something like this was exactly what you needed.

A small laugh passed Bucky’s pink lips, “Well, doll, I probably don’t strike you as a lot of things.”

You cheeks heated up just a touch at the fluidity of the nickname when it came out of his mouth. It was so smooth, smooth enough to lead you to believe that Bucky Barnes knew how to navigate women more than you thought.

“I wouldn’t say that.” You mused.

“And what would you say?”

“I’d say you strike me as something with a lot of secrets,” You began, “And someone who’s maybe ready to finally be free of them.”

Bucky’s stare was locked on you.

“And how do you figure that?”

“Just a feeling.” You breathed, “What about me?”

“You strike me as the type of girl who might just be too innocent for her own good.”

You snorted, “You’d be surprised.”

A laugh left his lips again, “You strike me as different, and extremely beautiful.”

A blush crept up your neck so violently that even in the dim lighting, you knew Bucky could see it. And he most certainly did based on the smug smirk on his face.

“Thank you.” You whispered.

“You say that a lot.”

“Seems to be that way, doesn’t it?”

Another chill ran up your spine, the motel room proving to be rather poorly insulated. A wave of exhaustion hit you at this time too, your eyelids becoming heavy despite the coffee in your system.

“You should get some sleep.” He said.

You yawned, “Guess so, yeah.”

You popped off the bed, setting the cooling coffee back on the table, and drew back the covers.

“I’ll sleep on the couch.” Bucky said.

You stopped with the blankets and looked back at him. There was a part of you that wanted to let him be, but there was another part that desperately needed to be with someone, that couldn’t stand the thought of sleeping alone in a shaken state.

“Unless..?” Bucky began.

“I don’t want to steal your bed.” You murmured.

“I’m not going to make you sleep on the couch.”

“Then we’ll share.”

The corner of Bucky’s mouth twitched up into a smile, and you knew he saw through the facade. He knew you were a bit scared right now, who wouldn’t be after the say that you’d had. And of all requests, sharing a bed with you was something he was so okay with.

He turned on his heal and moved towards a duffel bag, rummaging around in it before he pulled out a few articles of clothing.

He handed you a large t shirt and a pair of sweatpants.

“It’ll be more comfortable than the dress.” He said simply.

You thanked him, and moved into the bathroom to change.

Upon seeing the redness of your cheeks, you couldn’t help but smile. You didn’t know why he had such an effect on you, all you knew was that you enjoyed it.

It seemed that he was becoming a source of comfort for you very quickly.

You shrugged off his jacket, shivering as the cool air hit your skin without it to protect you. Draping it over the sink, you began unbuttoning your dress, folding it neatly and leaving you only in your set of lingerie.

Bucky’s shirt fit you like a dress, coming down to about mid thigh, you couldn’t help but admire yourself in the mirror. You decided against the sweats, figuring there wasn’t really much of a point to them anyhow.

You took his jacket, your dress, and the sweats back out of the bathroom, and made your way into the bedroom again.

Bucky had to stop himself from audibly swallowing at the sight of you. God, he thought you were beautiful before, but seeing you in his shirt like that? He almost lost it.

By the time you’d come out, he’d dressed himself in a set of pajamas and made himself comfortable on the bed. You smiled at him, resting the clothing on the dresser in the corner and peeling back the covers.

You were quick to snuggle in, sighing contently at the feeling of blissful warmth that they provided.

Bucky looked at you in awe, he’d never felt a connection like this with anyone so quickly. He followed you under the blanket, instantly feeling the warmth that your body provided.

He hadn’t been close like this with a woman in too long to remember, it felt surreal to him, but he loved every second.

His eyes never left you as you slowly descended into sleep, he nearly jumped when he felt a small hand grasp his own. He would never be entirely sure if you were awake or not when you did this, but the uncertainty of it didn’t stop him from giving your hand a firm squeeze in reply.

And when he was absolutely certain that you were asleep, he pressed a soft kiss to the crown of your head, letting you snuggle into his side a little more.

He silently thanked anything that was listening that he was able to find you today. And you, caught in your own sleepy state, dreamt about escaping with Bucky on the back of his bike tomorrow, and the next day, and the next day, and the next day, happy to have found your safe place in the likes of a man who’d taken you away from everything that had once held you back.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #winter soldier #winter soldier x reader #sebastian stan #sebstan #sebastian x reader #marvel #mcu #captain america #steve rogers #steve x reader #fan fiction #fanfic #fic rec #tony x reader #tony stark #natasha x reader

160 notes · View notes