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alwaysbeliev · 3 years

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I Can’t Lose You

Happy Valentine’s Day! This is for the @rdr-secret-cupid adventure this year. Thank you for the prompt, @bloodylove3 and I hope you enjoy!

summary: When Dutch asks you and Arthur to pretend you're married for a job, you're nervous that you won't be able to hide your feelings for the outlaw. You manage to keep it in line, but things go wrong fast.

relationship: Arthur Morgan x F!Reader

word count: 3497

link on AO3

“Alright, here’s where we’ll start.”

It was mid-afternoon. The heat from the sun above was overwhelming, burning whatever it touched. Not even the shade was a relief with its cover. Animals all around were burrowed underground, hiding inside of trees, splashing around in the cool river nearby, and doing their best to stay out of direct light. You idly watched a small mouse scurry through the grass, digging at the dirt every now and then before disappearing into a hole. Quietly, you wished you were that mouse.

For the hundredth time, Dutch was reviewing his next grand plan. There was a tipoff about a decent score, something that would help the gang move to a new camp, and it would be almost easy to pull off. Almost. But he was careful to plan, detailed to a fault, and now you had to sit through another lecture about making sure you were in the right place at the right time. He stood just inside the flap of his tent as he talked. The others were in a loose circle around him and Hosea.

You felt a drop of sweat slide down the back of your neck. What you wouldn’t give to go jump in the rushing water just a hundred feet away, even fully clothed. Imagining the relief alone made you sweat more. You could feel your skin throb, your cheeks turning red, your shirt sticking to your lower back…

“Hey!”

The sharp sound of Dutch’s voice cut through your daydream, snapping you back to reality. Others were snickering as you jerked your head over and tried to pretend you had been listening.

“As I was saying,” the man continued, “there has been a small change of plan.”

Whoa, Dutch was changing his plan? But the score was just a week away now.

He carried on, “Arthur will be playing the part of your protective, but quiet, husband. You will need to cause a big enough distraction that we can enter without tipping anyone off. Can you handle that?”

“I thought Hosea was providing the distraction?” Your mind was turning, scrambling to remember if that was the original plan or if you were suffering from heat stroke.

“As I had said before, Hosea will be needed outside. It would seem awfully suspicious to outsiders if 5 men all seemed to suddenly rush inside together, don’t you think?”

You supposed he had a point. Outwardly, you agreed with him, but inwardly, your heart was pounding. Arthur? Husband? You barely made it through the rest of the session, managing to excuse yourself as soon as Dutch was done talking. Never before had you felt the palpitations on your chest that you did now at the thought of being with Arthur Morgan. Not just being with him, but pretending to be married.

To say that you had a crush on Arthur was putting it lightly. From the moment you had met the outlaw, the sight of him caused your heart to race faster than his beautiful horse. You could barely speak around him, let alone carry on any conversation, and you were certain everyone in camp knew about it. Karen, Mary-Beth, and Tilly had approached you just last week to tease you about the way you fumbled over your words when Arthur asked a question. Now you had to pretend to be married?

The group dispersed as Dutch finished his grand lecture, chattering excitedly about the huge score. You felt light-headed and were rooted to the spot. Dutch was right, it should be easy, you had played the actor’s role many times before, but this… This wouldn’t be acting. And surely someone was going to notice that.

~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~

A week passed quicker than any week you’d been through before. You and Arthur had prepared a scene, practicing to get it right, and you were feeling slightly more confident. The cowboy still gave you flutters in your heart, but rehearsed lines were much easier than improvised ones, and you were positive he hadn’t seen the longing in your eyes. It was easy.

But what wasn’t easy was how inseparable the two of you were becoming. Every morning, Arthur approached you near the campfire, offering a small treat, typically a piece of chocolate or a small fruit. The first time, your cheeks had flushed hotter than the summer sun. It hadn’t improved much. You would review your plan for the score, pause for a lunch time meal, and continue in the afternoon. Arthur often seemed to have other ideas, wanting a change of scenery, and you would find yourselves a few miles from camp on some rocky outlook or on a river’s shore, just shooting the breeze while the sun seared high above. Arthur even managed to convince you to leave your horse once, riding behind him with arms wrapped around his chest, content just to be near him.

Finally, the day arrived. The gang all arose early, gathering their tools uneasily. Nerves always ran high the day of, regardless of how much planning had gone into the score, and your stomach churned. Karen had lent a hat, Mary-Beth a beautiful dress in your most favorite color, and you felt so fluffy and over the top. When Arthur saw you, his face seemed to go slack, a rare smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“My, my, Mrs. Morgan,” he drawled, taking a few lazy steps to close the gap to you. “Aren’t you lookin’ mighty fine this mornin’.”

Pouting and embarrassed, you waved him off, brushing a tight curl over your shoulder in a weak attempt to mask the color rising to your cheeks.

“Shut up.”

“Hey, now, I’m only tryin’ to lighten the mood.” He laughed before looking somewhat sheepish himself. “Besides, you really do.”

You paused, taking in his sincere compliment.

“Thank you.”

He didn’t have time to respond as Dutch stepped out of his tent, looking the picture of graceful leadership, commanding everyone’s attention. As you turned your body towards him, you saw Arthur’s gaze lingering on your figure, the dress complementing you perfectly. You focused on tugging on your white lace gloves, trying to turn your ears where it mattered.

~_~_~_~_~_~_~

“Alright, Mr. Callahan, now, here we are!”

Your voice pitched up, you pointed out the grandest building in town: the bank. Arthur guided his horse to the hitching post before hopping down, turning to help you down, your big skirt catching slightly and flouncing as your feet landed. Grinning at him, you tugged at his arm excitedly.

“Come on, darling, we gotta go get us a loan! That house ain’t gonna buy itself, you know!”

It was clear you were amusing the man at your side. Your anxiety was causing a jump in your performance, pushing you a slightly uncomfortable bit above believable, but you were pretty and young and the men were watching you. That was all that mattered.

With a grand gesture, you shoved the door to the bank open, stepping into the marbled interior with your boots clicking. The teller glanced up from whatever paperwork he was looking at. For a brief second, he studied the two of you, his eyes lingering on you in particular, before a fixed smile appeared on his face.

“How can I help you?” he drawled. As practiced, Arthur opened his mouth to speak but you butted in before he could.

“Why, hello, Mr…?” You swept forward, extending a hand for him to shake. He glanced at Arthur in disbelief before gingerly shaking your hand.

“Mr. Monaghan.”

“Oh, Mr. Monaghan, how lovely!” You grinned widely, shaking vigorously. “Yes, me and my new husband here are looking to buy a house! Isn’t that just grand? We just got married, you know, just last week! Oh, we had the most beautiful honeymoon, didn’t we, darling? Traveled to see the ocean, oh it was gorgeous! Simply gorgeous! Have you ever been, Mr. Monaghan?”

He opened his mouth to speak, but he couldn’t. Not the way you planned it.

“The birds were so lovely, there were so many of them! Oh, and the food! Simply divine! Have you had seafood before? Crab, lobster, shrimp, oh it was perfect!”

As you rambled, the doors swung in again, allowing entrance to John and Javier. You didn’t spare a look for them, your energy pointed at the teller, and as planned, he didn’t seem to notice them. Your shrill voice and wild theatrics had his whole attention. You carried on as the men got into position.

“They paired the shrimp with-- What was it, my love? This wine, it was a red, wasn’t it? Or was it a white? Mr. Callahan is just hopeless about these things, you know, I’m glad I’m here to help him. Oh we had the most wonderful time together! I thought it might rain one day, there were these horrible gray clouds, but he told me not to worry, even though I wanted to, and sure enough, the sun was out by dinner time!”

The doors creaked again, allowing the last two men in, Dutch and Bill. All 5 men exchanged a look and, in one swift motion, they pulled their bandanas over their faces and drew their weapons. It was satisfying to hear the clicks of a few hammers. Your grin turned wicked and the teller suddenly realized what had happened.

“We’ll take that loan to go, if you don’t mind.” You couldn’t help yourself. Arthur quickly stepped forward, shielding you with his body so your face was hidden, and you hurriedly moved towards the back of the men, allowing them to do what they needed. It was relatively painless and quiet, the teller moving hastily and without hesitation, filling bags with money and even allowing them access to the room with the safes. You served as lookout, casually standing at the window to keep an eye peeled for the law. Only when you heard Dutch’s signature goodbye did you turn away from it. Arthur made eye contact with you and playfully raised his eyebrows as he strode towards the door and you, ready to make for the horizon.

Without warning, the doors flew open, banging against the wall from the force behind it. Several lawmen were standing, guns drawn, ready to take out the outlaws. Instantly, shots were being fired. You didn’t know who fired first, but you dove out of the way, gripping your hat tightly so it wouldn’t be left behind. For some reason, your only coherent thought was Karen would have my hide.

Men were shouting, the smell of gunpowder filled the air. Flat on the floor, you couldn’t see anything, only heard Dutch shouting orders, police filling the streets outside, the solid sound of bullets connecting with flesh. There was nowhere to take cover. Somebody stepped on your leg and you gasped from the pain. A hand gripped your ankle and dragged you towards a wall. Panicked, you tried to scramble away until you registered Arthur’s voice trying to reassure you.

“You boys play nice!” a deep voice bellowed from the porch. “We don’t want no hangings, now, y’here?”

“We will play nice when you play nice, Sheriff!” Dutch barked back.

“This is a fucking massacre!” John spoke to the room at large. The men that had entered before were all on the floor, blood pooling around them, their guns laying forgotten on the wood. More were shouted outside. They were organizing to block all exits from town. There was no way you were gonna make it out now, you started to fear, and you could see the shared looks of the men with you echoing the same sentiment.

A surprised cry arose from outside as another gunshot cracked through the air.

“There’s Mac!”

With renewed energy, everyone jumped up and sprang for the door. Feeling marginally brave, you snatched a gun from the floor, hoping you wouldn’t have to use it. Bill led the way out. Javier, John, and Dutch quickly followed, and Arthur made up the rear with you in tow, sticking to him like glue.

The sun outside was blinding. You barely caught a glimpse of the street before you were rushed down the steps and around the side of the building. Back pressed against the wall, the pounding in your head started blocking out your hearing, and you only felt the vibrations in the air and under your feet. Even with all of Dutch’s careful planning, you were still trapped in this mess…

Arthur shouted your name. He stood, almost pressed to you, eyes burning. You snapped to attention, gun at the ready.

“We gotta make a break for it! Be ready on my count!”

It was all you could do to nod. You saw his horse in your peripheral, antsy and pawing, but waiting. You tried desperately to calm your breathing and gathered your skirts up out of your way. At the mark, you all ran, each in slightly different directions to mount their horses, spurring before fully mounted. Arthur was first and you scrambled after him, latching onto his arm and using the momentum of his horse to swing your leg over, skirts be damned. With a sharp cry, he urged his horse forward and away from town.

For a brief moment, you were free. Pounding hooves sounded behind you but were fading fast. The shouts of men continued to rip through the air, but you realized that they, too, were slowly growing faint. And then a stabbing pain exploded in your thigh. A scream escaped before you could stop yourself. Trained well, Arthur didn’t stop his horse, but he tried to see what had happened, calling back to you with increasing desperation. You had been shot. The panic, the shortness of breath, and now the pain was too much. In a surprisingly short matter of seconds, black filled your vision and you were gone.

~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~

The rustle of the trees. The soft sound of running water. Crackling of a campfire. Low voices outside your tent. Your hair brushing your face. Dull and throbbing pain in your leg. Heaviness in your chest. And, finally, the realization you were laying on a cot and not your usual bedroll.

Slowly, your eyes blinked open. This definitely wasn’t your tent. These weren’t your blankets. Only the soft glow from the fire and a few lanterns shone on the one canvas wall. It was enough light to see that this was Arthur’s tent, the small table with his journal and flower, his photographs on the wagon side. His smell on the blankets. You breathed in deeply.

A snort by your feet caused you to startle. Sitting up slowly, you saw Arthur slumped in a chair, his hat drawn over his face, arms crossed as he breathed evenly, the occasional snore breaking the silence. An strong and sharp pain made you hiss and, in turn, woke the outlaw from his slumber.

“You’re awake,” he mumbled, barely awake himself as he sat up.

“Regrettably…”

“How’re you feelin’?”

“Honestly? Not great,” you said, chuckling a little. “But I’ve had worse. Why am I here?”

“Thought you might like a real bed. Well, realer than your bedroll. We can put you out for the wolves, if ya like.” His teasing tone was back, but it was more strained than normal. He looked absolutely exhausted.

“No, this is fine. It’s… nice.”

Silence fell again. You stared at a thread on the sheet while Arthur stared at you. Usually there was a party the night after a big score, everyone drinking and being merry. There was a strange lack of boisterous laughter, though, and you had the weird feeling it was your doing.

“How did we make out?”

“Oh, we escaped,” he said, leaning back in the chair again. “But we’re trapped here awhile, there’ll be law crawlin’ everywhere for a few weeks.”

“How much?”

Not even your fixation on the money got him to crack a smile.

“Dunno.” Shrug of his shoulders. “I’ve been in here, makin’ sure you don’t die.”

Arthur’s behavior was bizarre. You hadn’t seen him behave this way when another gang member was injured, not even when John had nearly been lost last year, and it was starting to worry you. Was there something else you didn’t know about? Was your injury more serious than he was letting on? For a moment, you studied his face, the ache and shadows clear in the weak light, and your heart skipped a beat when you saw the barest sign of a light track down his cheek.

“Arthur…”

It was such a soft whisper, you weren’t sure he had heard you at first. He lifted his eyes to meet yours. You tried desperately to read him for a second before finally caving.

“Arthur, what happened? Did someone not make it?”

At long last, he managed a short huff of air that might be mistaken for laughter. Shaking his head, he leaned forward, elbows on his knees as he ran his hands across his face, removing his hat and setting it on his wardrobe. When he looked at you again, he actually had a small smile, and relief had replaced what you had mistaken for grief.

“No, no, nothin’ like that.”

“So what’s the matter?”

He tilted his chin up, exhaling long and low towards the sky, seemingly contemplating something. It was quiet for an achingly long time. Another deep sigh and he brought his chin back down, meeting your gaze steadily.

“I thought I was gonna lose you,” he murmured. “I heard the shot, your scream… I thought you were gone for sure.”

Okay… you thought, still bewildered. We’ve almost lost people before. What makes me special?

“And I didn’t get the chance to tell you…” You had seen him struggle with words in the past, but this was different. It was almost as if his voice was physically fighting him on saying anything. “I couldn’t stand to lose you, truth be told. You mean-- That is, you’re very important-- That’s, well…”

Tears pricked the corner of your eyes as you realized what he was trying to say. You didn’t dare utter a word, hoping, begging him to just spit it out. You weren’t positive this was happening, as now you were almost certain you had actually died and this was the beginning of your personal heaven.

“I can’t lose you, darlin’.”

The tears spilled over and dripped down your cheeks. You couldn’t even feel the pain in your thigh as it felt like a major weight had been lifted off of you. Arthur was startled, concern growing once more on his face at your tears, but when you started to grin and laughter bubbled up, he relaxed and looked as embarrassed as a school boy, dropping his eyes and smiling himself.

“I can’t tell you how happy that makes me to hear,” you finally said, shaking your head at the silliness of it all. “I can’t lose you, either, Arthur. You mean the world to me.”

Slowly, the cowboy rose from his seat and approached the edge of the cot. You gingerly shifted yourself over to allow him to sit beside you, and he took the opportunity. You soaked in the other’s presence for just a moment. With the softest gaze you had seen from him, Arthur returned his attention to you. He lifted a hand to cup your face, his rough thumb stroking your cheek as he drank in your features, looking truly content for the first time. Gracefully and ever the gentleman, he tilted your face up to meet his as he carefully kissed you. It was light at first. He was testing the waters, not pushing too fast. But when you met him eagerly, he leaned in, hard.

You didn’t dare breathe for the duration of the kiss, your heart a frightening combination of pounding and not beating at all. The taste of whiskey lingered fresh on his lips and left your mouth tingling. When Arthur pulled away, you shifted forward slightly, not wanting it to end. But, courteous as always, he pressed a lingering kiss on your forehead and then sat back again. Your eyes flickered all over his face. You were still unsure if you could catch your breath.

“Wanted to do that for a long time,” he muttered. All you could do was nod. Wow…

“Can you stay with me?” you blurted out. “Tonight?”

“O’ course,” he agreed. He tugged his boots off as you scooted as far over as you could, lifting the sheet for him to crawl into. Warmth radiated from his skin and it was like stepping into a comfortable bath as he wrapped his arms around you. You sighed into his chest, drinking in his smell with your face buried in him, hands gripping his shirt. The dull sting in your leg was in the background of your mind. It didn’t matter to you, though; you were safe here. And this wasn’t going to end any time soon.

#arthur morgan #rdr secret cupid 2021 #arthur morgan reader insert #arthur morgan x reader #angel writes

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magspeaches · 3 years

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Happy Valentine’s Day, @rdrthingies! I was your Secret Cupid.

Thank you for such a sweet prompt, I really hope you like the results! (ꈍ ᴗ ꈍ✿)

Prompt: Charles is hurt and bedridden in camp and Arthur is worried for his bf.

Thanks for organising, @rdr-secret-cupid!

#rdr secret cupid 2021 #charles smith #arthur morgan #charthur #red dead #painterlypeaches

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my-funky-little-cowboy · 3 years

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This is a really delayed @rdr-secret-cupid piece for the wonderful @alwaysbeliev. This one got re-assigned pretty late, but I do hope you enjoy. I wrote a little piece about how Arthur got into art. I included a little drawing of Arthur’s first sketch, since it was so late, I hope you enjoy!

Leather and Graphite

Characters: Arthur Morgan, Hosea Matthews, Bessie Matthews Themes: Fluff Warnings: None Words: 2,929

“What the hell were you thinking?” Hosea growled, releasing Arthur’s arm as they approached a bored looking horse.

“The guy started it!” Arthur argued, rubbing his arm.

“We were supposed to be scouting only, now we gotta move on, they are gonna be on alert now.” Hosea couldn’t look at the boy and he stepped into the saddle.

He thrust out a hand for Arthur, who climbed sullenly onto the horse. The ride back to their camp outside of town was silent.

“Oh, you’re back early!” Bessie looked up from her darning, putting her work down as Hosea and Arthur dismounted.

Her smile fell as she looked up at Hosea’s face, her eyes slowly moving to Arthur’s shrunken form behind him. “Is everything alright?”

Hosea scowled and turned to face Arthur. “Why don’t you tell her about our trip to town.”

The kid held his hat in his hands, a sheepish and pained look on his face. Hosea turned and took the reins, leading Amelia off to get her settled with the rest of the horses. Bessie patted the crate next to her.

“Come and sit, tell me what happened.”

Arthur plopped heavily beside her, his heels digging into the soft earth as he pushed his lanky legs out in front of him. He had grown so much in the last couple years, Bessie thought, looking down at him. She knew what this was about, he had started another fight, blown their cover.

“So, what was it this time.” She said gently, picking up the pair of trousers she needed to mend.

“It weren’t all my fault!” Arthur started, his voice cracking.

“It never is,” Bessie hummed.

-- || --

Bessie looked up from her journal, as Hosea stepped into their tent, he had been quiet and distant all night. His frustrations with Arthur had been bubbling all evening and she worried, it was unlike him to get so angry. He sighed heavily as he changed for bed.

“What’s wrong?” she said quietly, closing her journal.

“It was a good tip, Bessie, and now we are going to have to move on.” Hosea grumbled, “maybe it was a mistake to bring him along.”

“Oh, you don’t mean that, it was a little disagreement.”

“This is the third time this month he has gotten into a fight with someone in town! That anger of his is gonna get him caught, or worse, killed!” Hosea’s voice caught in his throat.

Bessie smiled knowingly. That was it, he wasn’t mad at Arthur, he was scared and worried for the boy.

“Mr. Matthews, is that concern I hear?” she said jokingly. “He just needs another outlet. What happened to that journal you bought him?”

Hosea scoffed, and shrugged. “I couldn’t get him to do his writing lessons in it, much less anything else.”

He crossed the space, settling down onto their pallet. He pinched the bridge of his nose, Hosea didn’t know what to do about Arthur. The teen had been letting his anger get the best of him more and more lately. Bessie was right, he needed another outlet, but the only things the kid seemed interested in were horses and fighting. He laid back, cradling his head in his arms.

“We could get him a horse?” Hosea mulled the idea over in his head. “No, then we would have another horse to take care of.”

Bessie chuckled lightly and snuffed the lantern, joining Hosea on the pallet. She kissed him gently on the cheek before resting her head against his chest.

“I may have an idea, I’ll talk to Arthur in the morning.” She felt Hosea’s arm snake around her, pulling her close and she hummed contently.

“What would I do without you?” Hosea said quietly, pressing a light kiss to the crown of her head.

-- || --

Arthur was a fairly early riser, the kid seemed to have a lot of trouble sleeping, and Bessie had taken advantage of the early morning peace more than a few times with him. He sat quietly, stoking the fire with a stick, the percolator bubbling with coffee he had undoubtedly brewed more than once this morning.

“Good morning, Arthur.” Bessie said softly so as not to spook him.

He looked up, dropping the stick into the flames. “Mornin’, missus Matthews.”

Bessie smiled and took a seat on a log near the fire, pulling out her journal. She flipped to an open page and began sketching quietly. Arthur watched her curiously, he had always wondered what she was putting in that journal. Hosea had gotten him one a while back to practice his writing, but what did he need that for? They were outlaws and crooks, so he hadn’t seen the point.

Her hands danced quickly across the page in long strokes, and Arthur found himself entranced. He wanted desperately to see what she was working on, what could possibly keep her interest, it was just writing, it wasn't like one of those fancy stories Hosea would get him.

He poured himself another coffee. “Ya want some coffee?”

Arthur held out a cup as Bessie looked up from her journal, laying her pencil down, she took the cup from him.

“Thank you, sweetheart.” She smiled, cradling the cup in her hands.

Arthur looked to the floor, a blush blooming across his cheeks. He cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck.

“No problem at all,” he muttered. “You workin’ on a story or something?” He glanced down at her journal.

Bessie took a sip from her cup, she had snagged him.

“Oh, just capturing the moment.” She said over the top of her cup. “I like to capture moments I want to look back on.” She motioned for Arthur to join her on the log.

He cocked an eyebrow, settling next to her. “Capturing the moment?” He furrowed his brow, looking down at her journal.

His eyes scanned the page, the camp was laid out roughly, the lake just beyond the tents a gentle mist etched over the water. He was there, tending to the fire, just like he had been when Bessie had joined him.

“You draw missus Matthews?” He asked, unable to take his eyes off the page. “Why?”

“Why not? I enjoy it. You ever tried?” She turned to a blank page, offering the journal to Arthur.

“When I was a kid,” he held up his hands, “but I ain’t ever seen the point.”

Bessie raised an eyebrow incredulously. She flipped the journal back to the beginning, running her fingers over the page to flatten it out.

Arthur’s eyes scanned down the page, he recognized the scene, the small town nestled in the valley as they had come through the mountains on their way east last spring. The sun had filtered through the clouds and the shadows danced through the valley. Arthur remembered that day, he had done his best to commit it to his memory. Beside the image was a page of beautifully written words, they looked nothing like Arthur’s own handwriting, sloppy and slanted and uncertain.

Bessie flipped the page, and he saw his own smiling face, holding up the rabbit from his first hunt with Hosea. They went through the journal, through each memory, so many that Arthur had forgotten. He looked up at Bessie as she flipped to a new page.

“I like to sketch out the good memories, ones I don’t want to ever forget. “I’ve learned something over all these years. Even your most life-changing memories fade with time. The ones you swore you’d never forget, might someday not be quite as clear. But if I sketch them, it’s like leaving myself an open window.”

Arthur traced his hand over one of the pages. He’d never thought about it like that, he’d forgotten about his first hunting trip with Hosea, it had seemed so long ago. They’d been spitting out birdshot all night. He was sure he had damn near chipped a tooth eating that rabbit, but it had been fun. He looked back up at Bessie.

“You think you could teach me to draw, miss Bessie?”

“Ain’t much to it,” she smiled, “just look at what’s around you and try and capture it on paper.”

She looked around camp, seeing the horses grazing lazily under some trees. Flipping to a new page in the journal she handed it to Arthur, pointing over to the herd.

“Draw what you see, let’s try with the horses. Just capture the shapes first.” She held out the pencil for him.

He took the pencil from her hesitantly, looking down at it in his hand.

“I can’t draw horses!”

“Have you tried?” Bessie countered, “Just try, break them down to shapes and go from there.”

Arthur huffed and put the pencil to the paper, looking up at the herd as they grazed. The pencil moved shakily across the page, trying his best to break down the shapes. Bessie smiled, watching as he worked. He was doing pretty well, each of the horses’ forms coming together on the page.

He felt her eyes on him and looked up, her smile reassuring him. He glanced again at the herd, who had started to stir as the sun climbed higher into the sky. He closed his eyes, biting his lip in concentration, willing the image of them as they were into his memory.

“Looks like your subjects are moving on.” Bessie placed her hand gently on his shoulder. “That’s okay, it happens like that sometimes. But if you get down the shapes, you can go back to it later.”

She stood, leaving Arthur with the journal as she went to start her chores. He had gotten a good start, his lines were a bit shaky but she expected as such. He had seemed so focused, the normal boundless morning energy of the teen quieted by the experience. She would check back with him in a bit, knowing how unsettling it can be to have someone standing over you while you work.

Arthur put the pencil to paper again, closing his eyes as he pulled up the image of the horses in his head. He sketched lines, following the shapes he had created, connecting them and fleshing them out to match what he saw in his mind.

He sat back and looking down at what he had done, the shaky lines and vague shapes made his heart sink. He flipped back to the image that Bessie had been working earlier, running his fingers over her smooth lines, her looping and elegant handwriting. The frustration started to bubble within him and he closed the journal.

“What you got there, Arthur?” Hosea poured himself a coffee.

“Oh, I--” Arthur’s hands moved to cover the journal.

“He asked me if I could teach him how to draw.” Bessie replied for him, hefting the stew pot from the fire.

Arthur scrambled to help her, taking the pot from her and delivering it to the butcher table.

“Is that so?” Hosea glanced slyly at Bessie.

“Ye-yeah! She is showing me how to draw horses! Though, can’t say I’m much good at it.” He picked the journal up off the ground offering it back to her.

“It’s just a matter of practice,” she took the book, “it’ll become second nature in no time.”

Bessie flipped through the pages, finding Arthur’s sketch. He had done much better than her first time, his lines were a bit uncertain, but they very much looked like horses, and he had been able to capture a decent amount before his subjects had moved on.

“This is a wonderful start, Arthur. I know exactly what I’m looking at! Which is more than I could say about Hosea’s first try.” Her lips curling into a mischievous smile.

“My dear, you wound me.” Hosea gasped, grabbing his chest dramatically.

“Hosea draws too?” Arthur furrowed his brow. “How come I ain’t ever seen you draw anything then?”

“Not my fault you never asked.” Hosea said dismissively, shrugging. “You finish up your chores this mornin’?”

“Yes, sir!”

“Want to go fishing with me? I’m sure Miss Bessie would love to change it up, and I could really go for some fish stew.” Hosea winked at Bessie and she rolled her eyes.

“Yeah!” Arthur said excitedly.

“Go get your things then, and get the horses ready.” He watched as Arthur scampered off before turning to Bessie.

“I can’t say I ever thought you’d get him to sit still for five minutes, let alone start drawing.” Hosea wrapped his arms around Bessie’s waist, peppering her neck with light kisses.

“He didn’t need much of a push, he’s really quite good. He has a good eye for detail.” She held up the journal for Hosea. “Those horses moved on shortly after he got the shapes down.”

Hosea chuckled, running his hand gently over the lines.

“Let’s hope he keeps with it. Maybe someday he can make a living out of it, get out of this life.”

-- || --

The afternoon had been quiet, the fish bit lazily at their lines and Hosea moved around the other side of the lake to see if he could have better luck. Arthur’s line moved slowly with the breeze. They had been at it for hours but only had a few small perch to show for it. Hosea had been convinced that this lake had some big bass, but they’d yet to pull a single one.

He liked these quiet afternoons with Hosea, the man had become something like a father to him. He wasn’t sure if fishing was his favorite, but Hosea loved it, and it got him time away from chores.

Arthur watched as Hosea cast his line into the clear water, the ripples reflecting the sun’s rays, creating a pattern of perfect rings on the glassy surface. His mind wandered back to what Bessie had said about why she kept a journal and he dug his rod into the soft earth near the water.

Reaching into his bag, he pulled out the journal that Hosea had given him back when they were teaching him to write. Flipping to a blank page near the back he settled down on one of the fallen logs by the shore to write.

Spent some time with Hosea today, I never know if the man is telling me the truth or spinning me a tale. But he’s kind to me, even when I don’t deserve it. I know he was madder than a tom cat yesterday that I got into that fight. Today we went fishing, not much biting, but that didn’t stop Hosea from having a good time.

I’m trying out this journal again, ain’t quite sure what to say, but missus Bessie says it’s a nice way to look back on things we may not always remember. So I’m gonna try.

Bessie is teaching me to draw. She draws the most beautiful pictures I’ve ever seen, and her handwriting is real pretty, nothing like my chicken scratch. Maybe she can teach me how to make them fancy looping letters, that’d be nice.

He sketched Hosea down near the water, the ripples from his line breaking up the surface of the lake. It was easier than the horses from earlier, Hosea had committed to his spot and only a light breeze blew through the trees and across the water.

The clicks of his reel pulled him out of the drawing and he looked up to see the tip of his rod arching toward the water. He snatched it up pulling back to set the hook, feeling the line go taut as the fish fought against him.

He pulled the fish from the water, it put up enough of a fight to draw Hosea’s attention and he had made his way back over.

“Looks like a decent fish, what you got there, Arthur?”

Arthur held up the fish, “Seems like maybe some kind of bass?”

Hosea clapped excitedly. “Our white whale!” He chuckled “Few more of those and we’ll have a proper stew!”

-- || --

“How’d that lead shake out?” Bessie looked up over the top of her journal as Hosea ducked into their tent.

“Looks promising. That couple is sitting on quite a bit of cash. I’m sure they wouldn’t miss some of it.” Hosea pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.

“How’d Arthur do?” Bessie closed her journal as Hosea joined her on their palet.

“The kid should have been an actor.” Hosea smiled, leaning back.

Bessie glanced over, raising an eyebrow. Hosea sighed, knowing the look all too well.

“I shouldn’t have to say it, you know it’s true.” He rolled his eyes, trying to hide the smile.

“His improvement is amazing. The way he sees the world, I have never seen anything like it. It’s like he sees the world in pictures, that he can pull from with such incredible detail. He’s nearly filled that journal. I think it’s been good for him. To have a place to keep his thoughts.”

Hosea was quiet for a moment. Arthur had seemed calmer, the kid appeared to enjoy the journal, whatever he was putting in there. He had been a bit hesitant to ask him what he was doing, worried it would discourage him.

“I imagine it is, he’s a kid. We’re adults, he doesn’t have anyone his age to talk to, so an outlet probably does him some good.” He wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close. “You were right, per usual.”

She pressed a kiss to his jaw, closing her journal. “I know,” she said gently, wrapping her arm around him.

#rdr secret cupid 2021 #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #hosea matthews #bessie matthews #rdr2 fanfic #fluff #horses #hyde tries writing #hyde draws shit

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fangirl-ramblings · 3 years

Text

Pairing: Charles Smith x Female Readee

Word Count: 3222

Summary: Love is in the air around camp, but has Cupid's arrow somehow missed you and Charles?

Notes: The fluffiest of fluff, Reader POV / Charles POV

This @rdr-secret-cupid gift is for one of my favourite people - @12timetraveler. My sincere apologies for this Valentine's / birthday present being so late, but hopefully it's well worth the wait 😘

~* Tumblr Masterlist | Stories on AO3 *~

Cupid's Arrow

Reader's POV

14th Feb 1899

You looked around to see Dutch sitting in his tent, whispering sweet nothings to Miss O'Shea while Sean was trying his hardest to win over Karen, whose icy demeanour was starting to thaw with each passing drink he was plying her with. Hell, even John had had a little too much to drink and summoned the courage to pick a small posy of flowers and present them to Abigail as a small Valentine's gift.

You liked seeing the camp happy like this, all relaxed in each other's company; the likes of Javier and Tilly sitting next to each other as the former strummed on his guitar and filled the air with a sweet melody, or young Mary-Beth, enjoying the latest romance novel she acquired, only to tear her eyes away from the page to gaze lovingly towards an oblivious Arthur before continuing her story.

And while Micah's grumbling about it "not bein' right, someone like him talkin' to a fiiinnnne woman like her," as he watched young Lenny saying something to make Jenny giggle from across the way, was enough to for everybody to tell him to shut up, it certainly wasn't enough to dampen the mood around the place.

It was even nice to see Miss Grimshaw laugh and smile as she joined the older camp members in their reminiscences about previous Valentine's days with their own past loves, soon followed by raucous singing of filthy songs but as you took your makeshift seat of a crate at the poker table, you couldn’t but help feel Cupid’s arrow had struck everyone and somehow bypassed you.

You had secretly hoped that Charles would have joined in with the party, but the minute Dutch wound up his gramophone Charles had disappeared into the woods to take his position on guard duty.

While you'd taken many opportunities to try to make conversation and try to get to know him better over the last few months, you still found him to be a man of few words - but you liked that about him. The camp was full enough of loud-mouthed characters like Sean and Uncle that any moment you found yourself sitting in a comfortable silence with Mr. Smith was bliss.

As the night drew on and more and more alcohol was heartly consumed by all, you felt your eyes growing heavy and couldn’t summon the energy to sing along with the lyrics of “The Louisville Maid”.

"Well as fun as this is, I'm gonna call it a night," you announced to your campmates, knowing full well that nobody was really listening. You sighed as they were caught up in their merriment and headed towards your tent… only to walk straight into Charles.

"Whoa, careful there," he told you, giving you a small smile as he placed those big, strong hands of his upon your arms to help stop you from falling over on the spot.

Your face burned as you felt your face grow redder and with each passing second as you enjoyed his gentle but firm touch, causing you to look away to avoid staring into those beautiful, deep brown eyes of his. You hoped that he thought your flushed appearance was a result of all the alcohol running through your veins and not the thought currently running through your mind; what it would be like if he suddenly dipped and kissed you with a fervent passion?

"Sorry Charles, I… I… I hadn't realised you'd finished your shift already. Want a drink?"

"I'm okay, thank you, I was gonna try and get some sleep… and I think you should too - big day tomorrow isn't it?" Your brow furrowed as you tried to rack your brain. Had you arranged to go on a job and completely forgot? Charles watched you, with a confused look. "Oh, I thought you'd mentioned the other day that it was your birthday? Maybe I got it wrong?"

"Oh my word, yes it is," you gasped in wonderment, "I can't believe you remembered."

"Guess I just have a good memory for special occasions," he grinned, brushing a loose hair from your face without thinking, making you weak at the knees.

He cleared his throat and moved his hand away. "Well we best both go get some shut eye before the sun comes up. Good night and sweet dreams."

You watched him walk to his tent, before heading to your own. Still smiling to yourself, you drew the flaps shut and fell on the cot, relieving that brief moment you just had with Charles over and over as you closed your eyes and let sleep wash over you.

15th Feb 1899

As the sun beamed through the gaps of your tent, you woke up to a very different camp atmosphere compared to the night before. It was eerily quiet; with everybody still in bed, sleeping off the hangovers they'd given themselves at the party.

Deciding to make the most of having a quiet camp all to yourself, you sat yourself up and stretched - your muscles and joints aching in a way that made you laugh. Another year older today and your body was certainly reminding you of that fact with all the aches and pains you suddenly started feeling.

A part of you doubted anybody else would be able to remember that today was your birthday but you smiled as you saw Mary-Beth hadn't forgotten; she'd wrapped a romance novel with one of her ribbons and left it on your trunk. Next to it was a little handwritten note from her, wishing you a very happy birthday and how "the way the heroine in this story reminds me of how you act around Charles, maybe if you read it you'll end up with your true love too. x"

You playfully rolled your eyes; ever the romantic, Mary-Beth had seen you gazing at Charles one day and decided you were destined to be together.

Pulling on some fresh clothes, you stepped outside and made your way towards the coffee pot, presuming nobody would have thought to wash it out and prepare it ready for the morning. Yet, to your surprise, you lifted it up to find it freshly brewed and still piping hot.

“I figured everybody would be wanting some when they woke up,” Charles chuckled, walking behind you carrying some logs for the campfire.

“I’d say; seems they all had a lot to celebrate,” you laughed, pouring yourself a cup. “You want one?” you asked, offering Charles the filled mug currently in your hand.

“I’m okay thanks, I had one before I made a start on tidying the place up.”

“Oh trust me, I wouldn’t worry too much about that today - Grimshaw will have such a headache, she'll be far more focused on getting all the quieter jobs done," you giggled knowing from previous experience how badly Susan seemed to suffer from next morning hangovers.

He carefully placed the chopped wood next to the campfire before turning his attention back to you. "Oh I bet," he grinned, his eyes twinkling. "Actually, I have an idea that might help keep camp running smoothly and stop people grumbling.'

"Oh?" Curiosity had gotten the best of you and you were intrigued to know what he was thinking.

"I saw supplies were running low and was thinking of doing some hunting later… a good hearty stew might be what the others need to recover," rushing his words out before casting his eyes to the ground. "I, erm… I was wondering if you wanted to join me?"

"What? Because I'm the only other person sober enough to safely use a weapon right now?" you teased.

"That's one reason, but I'd also like some good company."

You stood gobsmacked as he turned away from you, quickly making his way over to Taima, pulling something from her saddle.

"I… I'd like to spend time with you too, but I'm afraid my pistol is no good for hunting." You hung your head in disappointment, mentally kicking yourself that this could be your one chance to be alone with the man you'd admired for all these months - and you've lost it because you never took the time to invest in decent hunting equipment.

"I can help you with that," Charles told you, pulling out an ornate looking bow and handing it to you. "I made it… for your birthday."

"For me?" Shocked by his act of kindness, you traced your fingers over each of the detail engravings that ran along each of the limbs, tears starting to cloud your vision. "This is beautiful, but are you sure you mean to give this to me?"

"Of course… a beautiful bow for a beautiful lady.” A sudden flash of fear crossed Charles’ eyes as he realised what he had just said, his body tensing.

"You… think I'm beautiful?" Your eyes looking deep into his, searching for the truth.

He nodded. "The most beautiful creature I have ever laid eyes on… I'm sorry, I didn't mean to put you on the spot like that. If it's too awkward, we can just forget the hunting…"

He stopped mid-sentence as you kissed his cheek, his body relaxing as he realised he hadn't made a mistake in telling you.

"It's not awkward at all, I've liked you for a long time but I could never work out if the feeling is mutual." You gently thumbed his cheek, "Let's go on this hunting trip and talk about this in private shall we?" You suggested as you signaled for Charles to see what you could see.

Stood behind him was a small audience of John and Mary-Beth, both of whom were grinning over to you both.

Charles playfully rolled his eyes and walked you away from their gaze.

"Sounds like a good idea, wanna head out now?"

"Lead the way Mr. Smith." You held out your hand and he gladly took hold.

"Oh wait, you'll need some of these too" he reached back into his saddle to hand you a bunch of arrows… only to be confused as he heard you laughing.

"What's so funny?" Charles asked, trying to read your expression.

"Nothing… just looks like Cupid's arrows found me after all."

Charles' POV

14th Feb 1899

“I’ll take over here if you want,” John grumbled, clutching his face as he approached where Charles was currently taking up guard duty in the wooded area on the outskirts of camp. “I reckon my Valentine's night is as good as over.”

Charles turned to face his campmate, the moonlight showing a fresh red looking handprint across John's cheek. "You blew it with Abigail then?"

"Yep, I pushed my luck just a little too much," John chuckled lightly, "But I'm sure I'll survive. Go on, you go enjoy yourself… I saw [y/n] looking all lonesome up there, she could probably do with some company."

John waggled his eyebrows as Charles pretended to scowl; alcohol had given him loose lips one night and he had ended up confiding in Arthur and John about his feelings about the camp lady he'd taken a shine to. But he couldn’t hold the expression for long as a smile crept over his lips he thought about you.

"I'll probably just get some shut-eye instead, but I have been busy making this for her." He lifted up a beautiful bow that was resting against a nearby trunk. "It's her birthday tomorrow and she mentioned once she'd be interested in learning to hunt properly."

"You're a big old softie, ain't you Charles Smith?" John chuckled. "Well, I'm sure she'll appreciate the thought."

“Don’t you go ruining my reputation, John,” he laughed, making his way to the clearing where all the gang's horses grazed peacefully.

Taima looked up, nickering as she saw her owner nearby.

“Just a passing visit for now girl, but we can go out on a ride tomorrow,” he whispered to her, stroking her neck as she nuzzled against him. “In the meantime, I want you to keep this safe for me.” Charles lifted his saddle onto the hitching post that Taima was attached to, and carefully placed the bow into the holster on it. She watched her owner with curiosity, her ears pricking up as heard Charles rummaging in his saddlebag to retrieve an apple to reward his trusted Appaloosa for her loyalty.

The music was still playing as he walked back into camp, only this time it was Pearson’s accordion and Uncle’s banjo that filled the air as Miss Grimshaw sang a bawdy song. It was clear that the party wasn't ending anytime soon, but that wasn't going to stop Charles from trying to get some sleep. Heading towards his tent, he found himself looking around for a quick glance of his heart's desire, only for you to crash straight into him.

"Whoa, careful there," he told you, gently placing his hands upon your arms to help stop you from falling over on the spot. He could have swore he felt a jolt of electricity flowing through his veins as his skin touched yours.

"Sorry Charles, I… I… I hadn't realised you'd finished your shift already. Want a drink?"

"I'm okay thank you, I was gonna try and get some sleep… and I think you should too - big day tomorrow isn't it?" A flash of confusion crossed your face and Charles began to doubt himself. "Oh, I thought you'd mentioned the other day that it was your birthday? Maybe I got it wrong?"

"Oh my word, yes it is," you gasped in wonderment. "I can't believe you remembered."

"Guess I just have a good memory for special occasions," he grinned, brushing a loose hair from your face without thinking, before catching himself and moving his hand away.

Not really wanting the moment to be over but knowing he must tear himself away lest he stay admiring you all night, he cleared his throat.

"Well we best both go get some shut eye before the sun comes up. Good night and sweet dreams."

Making the short walk back to his own tent, his heart soared as he thought back over your reaction to him remembering your birthday. Now he couldn’t wait to see how you would react to your present.

Settling on his bed roll, he watched you draw your tent closed before allowing himself finally sleep and dream of you.

Charles found himself waking at the crack of dawn, just as the last few stragglers were stumbling towards their bedrolls . Realising he could effectively have the tranquillity of camp to himself, he gladly jumped up and set about getting ready for a new day.

Firstly he made his way over to Pearson’s wagon to grab a few coffee beans and started brewing a fresh pot. Noticing the meat supplies were running dangerously low, Charles made a mental note to go out hunting later and wondered if this could be the ideal opportunity to ask the birthday girl to join him.

While he waited for that certain someone to wake up, he had already stoked the fires back to life and disposed of the empty bottles that were scattered all around camp before finally enjoying a short break with a fresh cup of coffee.

It wasn't until he had made a start on chopping wood he had heard footsteps behind him and smiled to himself as he looked over to see [y/n] making her way over to the coffee pot.

“I figured everybody would be wanting some when they woke up,” Charles chuckled, walking up to her with an armful of logs for the campfire.

“I’d say; seems they all had a lot to celebrate,” she laughed in that sweet way that made Charles’ feel all warm inside as she poured a cup. “You want one?” asking as she offered the mug in her hand towards him.

“I’m okay thanks, I had one before I made a start on tidying the place up," he explained, walking over towards where the chopped wood was to be stored.

“Oh trust me, I wouldn’t worry too much about that today - Grimshaw will have such a headache, she'll be far more focused on getting all the quieter jobs done,"

Charles chuckled as he carefully placed the firewood down before realising this was his chance and turned his attention back to you.

"Oh I bet," grinning with a twinkle in his eyes. "Actually, I have an idea that might help keep camp running smoothly and stop people grumbling.'

"Oh?" you asked, tilting your head with curiosity.

He had noticed in the past that each time you asked a question about something that had piqued your interest, you would often tilt your head in this way and found it utterly adorable.

"I was thinking of doing some hunting later… a good hearty stew might be what the others need to recover," Charles rushed his words out before looking away bashfully. "I, erm… I was wondering if you wanted to join me?"

"What? Because I'm the only other person sober enough to safely use a weapon right now?" she smirked, and he felt his insides flip-flop. She was so damn beautiful.

"That's one reason, but I'd also like some good company," he told her, quickly turning to go fetch the bow from Taima’s saddle.

"I… I'd like to enjoy your company too, but I'm afraid my pistol is no good for hunting." She lowered her head in what seemed to be disappointment.

"I can help you with that," Charles told her, carefully placing the bow in her hands. "I made it….for your birthday."

"For me?" He watched as she traced her fingers over the engravings he spent so much time on, hoping the tears brimming in her eyes were because she was overjoyed. "This is beautiful… but are you sure it's for me?"

"Of course… a beautiful bow for a beautiful lady.” He kicked himself inwardly for saying it aloud,

"You… think I'm beautiful?" Your eyes looking deep into his, searching for the truth.

He nodded. "The most beautiful creature I have ever laid eyes on… I'm sorry, I didn't mean to put you on the spot like that. If it's too awkward, we can just forget the hunting…"

He stopped mid-sentence as you kissed his cheek. The feeling of embarrassment replaced by one feeling like he could soar into the sky right now.

"It's not awkward at all, I've liked you for a long time but I could never work out if the feeling is mutual." Gently thumbing his cheek, you suggested, "Let's go on this hunting trip and talk about this in private shall we?"

He followed your gaze to see Mary-Beth and John grinning at you both as they stood by their tents.

Playfully rolling his eyes, Charles guided you away from their gaze.

"Sounds like a good idea, wanna head out now?"

"Lead the way Mr. Smith." You held out your hand and he gladly took hold.

"Oh wait, you'll need some of these too" he reached back into his saddle to hand you a bunch of arrows… only to be confused as he heard you laughing.

"What's so funny?" Charles asked, hoping thewhole entire moment wasn't a set up so camp could make fun of him

"Nothing… just looks like Cupid's arrows found me after all"

#fangirl writes #charles smith x f!reader #charles smith x female reader #rdr2 fanfic #rdr secret cupid 2021 #fluff

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goofyboots · 3 years

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happy valentines’ day, @prairiemule !!! you’re my secret cupid!! I tried to make this as sweet as possible, I hope you like it!! I know furry stuff isn’t for everyone, so I hope you don’t mind... though I did make an honest attempt to draw humans, they looked awful. and comics are not my strong point (I apologize for the corners I cut oops), I hadn’t made one in years but I really wanted to get this story out of my head. (really happy with how the panel where john is screaming at arthur under his breath came out LOL)

Anyways, this happens sometime before Jack is born, not sure of the year. Arthur had managed to secretly keep a savings, buy property, build a little cabin for his tiny family. He is going to ask Eliza to marry him soon. But his proposition for Hosea is to offer their homestead/land to those in the camp looking to leave the outlaw lifestyle. Then they’ll all live happily ever after in the countryside somewhere, living off the land and nobody gets sick or shot ;D

thanks for this opportunity, @rdr-secret-cupid !!!

(ps: all their furry versions have animal pun names: Haresea, Pawthur and John Mawston I’ll throw myself in a dumpster now, goodbye)

#rdr secret cupid 2021 #rdr2 #my art #furry #unfortunately #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption arthur #red dead redemption hosea #red dead redemption john #au #digital art #comic #furry comic #anthro

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redeadepression · 3 years

Text

Dutch’s Con | Arthur/F!Reader | Secret Cupid! ♥♥♥

Light Skinned, Plus Sized Female Reader!

Happy Valentines Day!!!

This is my @rdr-secret-cupid gift for my cupid @thepalestcowboy / @asteroidbear I really hope you liked it. I used some of the things you suggested when you answered my ask. Sorry if it seems like I’m roasting you a little bit when Y/N is being self-deprecating!!! I swear I’m just repeating what you said and don’t worry spoiler alert. Arthur is SO into you. ;)

~~~~

Relationships: Arthur Morgan x Female Reader Words: 3443 Tags: Fluff, crushes, lewd thoughts, one bed trope, awkward Arthur (like, not smooth at all. Man’s game is rusty AF) Warnings: Reader is described very specifically to look like my cupid as this is a gift for her! :)

Summery: You and Arthur are sent on a recon mission, posing as newly-weds but *GASP* There’s only ONE bed???

~~~~

Arthur glowered at the back of his horse’s neck as she took long, laboured steps onwards towards the town of Oakseed.

He could tell the poor old girl was feeling the heat more than he was and he vowed to treat her to a sugar cube and good grooming once he arrived at his destination.

His eyes flicked to his left he heard you grumble under your breath. The humidity was suffocating, and he wondered briefly if you were suffering a little more than his poor old horse.

You were a relatively new addition to the gang but he felt he had gotten to know you well enough in the last few months for you both to work side by side. At least, that’s what he had told himself after the choice had been taken away.

You were to spend a few nights in the town closest to camp. Playing the part of newly-weds and scoping the scene for rich old bastards that would be easy to con.

Dutch had been so sure that you would work well together. Arthur had his doubts. He had voiced them vehemently and repeatedly but they’d fallen on deaf ears. Dutch had insisted that this recon mission was only to be pulled off by the two of you alone and when Hosea had put his paper down long enough to back him up, Arthur had realised he had lost.

He looked to you now, riding alongside him. The sweat he felt running down his own back was gathering on your neck and chest and the heat he felt burning against his bare arms was currently tinting your face a light shade of red.

You wiped at your forehead with the back of your palm. Smearing sweat and dirt together in a feeble attempt to stop it from dripping into your eyes.

You blinked furiously in the afternoon sun, wishing you’d thought to bring a hat. Even the sparse shade of the trees along the edge of the trail didn’t shield you from the unrelenting heat. You licked at your cracked lips. Gritting your teeth as you were reminded that you’d drank the last of your water not too long ago.

Flies buzzed around your face and you felt yourself grow agitated as you let go of the reigns briefly to swat at them.

You heard a sniff of laughter from your right and turned to face your traveling companion with an incredulous scowl.

“It ain’t that bad.” Arthur said simply, his tone light as he shooed a large fly away from his own face.

“I’m not from here… I ain’t used to the heat.” You croaked, throat dry from breathing in the dust that had been kicked up by your horses hooves.

“I can tell.” He replied plainly, mirth in his tone as he looked back to the road with a smirk on his lips.

You watched him for a moment, feeling silly for your frustration but unable to curb is as another fly made a beeline for one of your nostrils. You swatted at it, growling angrily and jolting slightly as your horse decided she’d had enough.

She snorted angrily, hooves stomping the ground in agitation as she began to disobey you.

You were never fantastic with horses to begin with. But after your old faithful had passed away on a mission, you’d purchases the first horse you came across just to be able to get back to the gang.

She was moody and stubborn. She could tell you were inexperienced and liked to test your control. That coupled with the stifling heat, you were surprised she had tolerated you this long.

You held the reigns tight, thighs clenching onto your saddle as you cooed her softly and tried desperately to stay in your seat.

Arthur was at your side in an instant. His own horse exhaled softly as he steered her towards you. The large mare not batting an eye as your own horse fidgeted uncomfortably at the proximity of the other animal.

“Here.” Arthur said gently, his calf brushing against yours as he leaned in against your side. Leather covered hands with bare fingers encompassed yours as he showed you how to pull the reigns more efficiently. “Like this.” He instructed simply, pulling back on your hands and showing you where to hold them.

“It’s alright girl.” He purred, directed at your horse. “It’s okay.” He assured; your horse seeming to calm at his words alone. His firm grip on your reigns slowing her to a stop. You couldn’t help but swallow thickly at the way his voice reverberated in your ear. “There.” Arthur whispered, slowly handing you back the reigns and turning to face you.

"You gotta’ show her you’re in charge.” He said quietly, voice uncharacteristically gentle.

You nodded in understanding. His face only inches from yours as he pulled his hands away. You turned back to the road quickly, Arthur doing the same. Clearing his throat as he directed his mare back to her side of the road.

Your horse listened to your direction as you subconsciously guided her a little farther from Arthur than you had been before. It was as if you could still feel the heat radiating off his brawny form from your place across the trail.

“Thanks.” You said softly, smiling through your embarrassment as Arthur made a noise of acknowledgment.

The rest of the ride was silent. The soft clip of your horses hooves against the dirt filled the space between you both as you passed through the gateway entrance of the small town.

Arthur directed you towards the small hotel on the end of the main street. He’d stayed there once before and knew where he was going.

You hitched your horses at the post to the left of the hotel and jumped down into the red dirt with a thump. Disturbing the dust and coughing slightly as you breathed it in.

Arthur moved to stand beside you and hovered as you removed the supplies you needed for your stay.

“I can’t wait for a bath.” You sighed as you turned to him, your bag in your arms.

“Mm.” He hummed in agreement. Eyeing your possessions coolly before opening his mouth to speak.

“Listen.” He said awkwardly, crossing his arms over his chest as he spoke. “We should probably only get the one room.” He said clumsily, making your brow raise at his forwardness.

Arthur watched your face chance, furrowing his own brows before raising them both in surprise as he realised his mistake. “For… For the con.” He explained in a hurried whisper. “Just… for authenticity o’course.” He added quickly, holding out his hands in front of him.

“Of course.” You replied quickly.

“Right.” Arthur nodded.

“Sure.” You smiled with a shrug, trying to break the tension.

Arthur nodded again, clearing his throat uncomfortably as he pulled his hat down further to cover the flush on his cheeks.

You stood there for a moment, unsure what to do now as you waited for him to take the lead. Arthur seemed to follow your train of thought, turning quickly and walking towards the entrance of the hotel.

“Don’t worry.” He chuckled, stopping as you drew closer to the front door. “ You can have the bed.” He clarified.

You stopped just behind him, laughing nervously.

“Oh, I don’t mind.” You said earnestly when you realised he hadn’t been joking.

“Please. I insist.” Arthur said firmly, holding up his hands once more before turning back towards the hotel. You watched him go, frowning at the way he had spoken before sighing inwardly and following in his stead.

“Okay.” You mumbled, fully aware he couldn’t hear you.

You supposed you should have known better than to put yourself out there like that. Arthur was nice enough but he was the type of man that had women throwing themselves at him without him needing to try. You weren’t sure you were even close to his type.

You were on the larger side and your skin was very light considering the amount of time you spent in the sun. All the woman you’d seen Arthur chatting too in the last few months were incredibly thin and at least three shades tanner than yourself.

You cast your gaze onto the ground as you followed Arthur up the front steps of the hotel. A sickening feeling of rejection sinking to the bottom of your stomach as you resigned yourself to keeping your feelings for him locked deep inside.

Arthur stopped in front of you suddenly and you looked up at his handsome face inquisitively as he held out his hand to you.

You took it without thinking, letting yourself be pulled inside and silently swooning at the feel of his fingers intertwined with yours.

Arthur stopped at the front desk, nodding to you once and reminding you without words of the part you were to play in this con as you both waited for the man behind the counter to notice you.

He looked up within a few seconds and you watched in awe as Arthur flashed his charming smile at him.

“Hello.” He began simply, his voice a long drawl as he forced a chipper tone. “The name’s Arthur Callahan.” He said confidently, flashing a toothy smile as his arm slid around your waist as easily as if he had it done it a thousand times before. “And this is my wife Clementine.” He purred, pulling you against his side as he looked back to the man behind the desk. “We’ll need a room for the night and the lady would like a bath.” He ordered, placing a few notes on the desk in front of him and sliding them across to the clerk with the palm of his hand.

The clerk’s eyes widened as he jumped to attention.

“Of course sir.” He agreed, snatching the money roughly from the counter and stuffing it into his pocket. “There’s a room ready at the end of the hall.” He said cheerfully as he placed a key on the counter and slid it into Arthur’s waiting hand. The burly man caught it with ease. “Our bathing facilities are this way ma’am.” The clerk continued, gesturing in the other direction and waiting for you to move first.

You smiled in response. Turning to Arthur and placing one of your bags into his outstretched hand. He had been waiting patiently, as a doting husband would. You caught yourself flushing as the older man turned away with your belongings.

Even if it was all one giant fantasy… You could get used to this.

Once you had bathed you headed towards your room. You knocked softly and waited for Arthur to answer. After a minute of silence you tried the handle only to find it still locked. You knocked again, waiting a few seconds before returning to the front desk.

The man there informed you that Arthur had headed back outside after placing your belongings in your room. You frowned in confusion, following in Arthur’s footsteps and walking back outside towards the horses.

You didn’t have to look far. Stopping in your tracks as you caught sight of him. Large, muscular arms flexing in the late afternoon sun as he ran a grooming brush over your horse’s rump. You watched for a second, smiling involuntarily before walking closer.

He turned at the sounds of your footsteps, pausing his work and looking you over briefly.

You could have sworn you’d seen his face change momentarily. Cheeks growing rosy as he turned away from you and began to speak.

“Hope you don’t mind.” He said casually, petting horse’s side as he continued to groom her. “I gave Bo a once over and I figured YH/N could use one too.”

“Thank you.” You said quickly, guilt rising in your stomach that you hadn’t even considered your horse. You’d been so keen to get yourself clean you hadn’t even thought about your poor horse that had carried you all the way there.

“Don’t feel bad.” Arthur said quietly, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “I don’t usually go to this much effort. I just didn’t feel too much like sitting around in the room.”

“I wasn’t feeling bad.” You lied. “I was just coming out to give her some attention.” You said bluntly as you stepped up next to Arthur and petted your horse’s neck.

She snorted softly, looking to you for a moment before returning her attention to the food Arthur had left at her feet.

Arthur looked you up and down once more, quickly turning his attention back to the horse as you turned your attention on him.

“What?” You asked frankly, eyes roaming his form as he shrugged in response.

“Nothin’.” He answered, tucking the grooming brush back into his satchel and dusting off his hands. “Just don’t look like you was about to come outside and do some grooming.” He snickered, gesturing towards your fresh, clean clothes and damp, towel dried hair.

“Well I was.” You lied again, voice a little more firm than you’d have liked, causing him to smirk in response.

“Okay.” He conceded, holding up a hand to calm you before giving his horse a quick pet and turning back to the hotel. “it’s getting’ late.” He mumbled, gesturing with his head towards the door. “Should probably head to bed.”

You nodded in agreement, watching as a smile formed on his lips. You cocked your head in question and he chuckled softly.

“Well, you’ll head to bed.” He laughed. “I’ll head to floor, I suppose.”

You barked out a laugh, covering your mouth quickly and turning away to hide your embarrassment. Arthur seemed to feel accomplished in making you laugh. Smiling wider to himself as he headed inside.

You followed along behind him, feeling like an idiot.

Arthur opened the door and allowed you to move into the room first. You were surprised to see he’d already set up his bedroll on the floor next to the double bed in the middle of the room. You frowned at his haste as he locked the door behind you both.

You slipped off your boots and left them at the end of the bed. Crawling on top of the covers and positioning yourself on the left side, closest to Arthur’s bedroll as he took off his own boots.

You stared at your hands, eyes flicking up to see what was taking so long and shooting back down to your lap when you realised Arthur was unbuttoning his shirt.

You licked your lips, eyes darting back up once more. You inhaled softly as he pulled the fabric over his shoulders. The muscles in his broad chest shifting with him as he let the shirt fall to the floor and his hands moved to his belt.

You looked away quickly, swallowing hard as you listened to the clinking of his buckle as he worked the leather out of the loops in his jeans.

A soft clunk signified it had joined his shirt on the floor and you scolded yourself for having the urge to look up at him once more.

You resisted the temptation. Picking at the dirt under your fingernails as you heard him approach. A small, strained grunt accompanying his decent to his bed on the ground.

The silence in the room was deafening. You suddenly found yourself wishing you had brought a book. Anything to look at other than your own hands, the ceiling or… Arthur.

You turned to him intending to say your goodnights, surprised to find him studying you with curious eyes.

“What?” You asked a little too quickly, feeling flustered at his gaze.

“Ain’t you gonna get comfortable?” He asked, gesturing towards your outfit and making you look down at yourself uncertainly.

“I am comfortable.” You answered, confused.

“I mean, more comfortable.” Arthur laughed, hands gesturing to his own bare chest and then back to you. “It ain’t comfortable to sleep in a shirt and jeans. I’ve tried.” He chuckled, feeling inexplicably flustered.

“I’m fine.” You answered tersely. Suddenly extremely irritated at the feel of your jeans cutting into your waste and feeling suffocated by the neck of your shirt. But the thought of stripping down to your undergarments in front of Arthur was too much to bear in that moment.

He already wasn’t interested in what he saw. No point in going out of your way to show him even more of your body.

“Okay.” Arthur replied with a shrug. “Just saying. You can if you want.” He remarked casually. “I ain’t leering you know?” He chuckled awkwardly, staring at his hands as the words left his mouth.

You smiled weakly, unable to stop yourself as the words fell from your own lips.

“Trust me, I know.” You mumbled, feeling your cheeks heat at the admission.

Arthur looked to you with furrowed brows, blue eyes filled with confusion as you turned away from him.

“What you mean by that?” He asked quietly, frown deepening as you shook your head at your own stupidity.

“Nothin’.” You said softly. “Nevermind.” You added as you slid down in the covers. Wishing for nothing more than to be able to pull them over your head and hide.

Arthur watched you for a moment longer before following your queue and slipping under his own blankets. Staring at the ceiling as he tried to figure out what you had meant.

Perhaps you were being sarcastic. Had you noticed the way he’d looked at your earlier? Had he made you feel uncomfortable with his gaze?

He mentally scolded himself. He had tried so hard to hide is quick glances but of course you had seen the way he was looking. He couldn’t help himself. The way your freshly washed hair framed your face was intoxicating.

Not to mention your choice of jeans. He’d been sure to walk in front of you on the way back to the room so he didn’t have to spend the entire time staring at the way the denim hugged your ass in those pants. They were his favourite of all the pants you owned. He couldn’t help but look twice when you stepped up next to him outside.

A silence descended upon the both of you as Arthur found himself lost in thoughts he would be ashamed of later. He cursed himself for making you feel uneasy. Selfishly wishing he could have kept his eyes to himself so he’d had the chance to see you in less clothing.

He wondered what kind of chemise you’d wear to bed if you were alone. Or perhaps you only wore a brassiere.

Arthur thought as his tongue darted out to lick as his dry lips.

He swallowed audibly, rolling to face away from you as felt the heat that had been rising on his cheeks travel lower, down his neck and towards more intimate places.

He’d already made you feel uncomfortable more than once today. He didn’t intend to be caught red-handed thinking sordid things about your body or more specifically, the things he would do to your body given the chance.

He was suddenly extremely grateful for his place on the floor. Unsure he would be able to hide his attraction to you if faced with the reality of sharing a bed.

He had found it hard enough to slip an arm around your waist at the front desk. To remain composed and casual while being that close to you. It had been torture.

He’d told Dutch from the beginning that they wouldn’t be able to sell the story. This con was going to fail. But without admitting his crush he was unable to give a strong reason why you two wouldn’t work well together.

He was pretty good at playing a part when he needed to but he wasn’t sure a person that had spent weeks dancing around his feelings for you could play the part of your new husband successfully without things getting awkward.

Dutch had put a lot of emphasis on how important it was that the two of you were in harmony to pull of your con. It was important that people believed you were in love. He stressed how imperative to the mission it was for you to be openly affectionate with one another and…

Arthur’s mouth fell open as realisation washed over him.

“Dutch you sly bastard.” He growled into the darkness. His hand coming up to rest over his eyes as he kicked himself for being so bloody stupid. “There’s no mission.” He whispered angrily, suddenly full of regret for his insistence at sleeping on the floor.

End.

~~~

Thanks to anyone that reads this! I hope you enjoyed it! Would love to hear your thoughts. ♥

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arthurmorgansleftlung · 3 years

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Secret Cupid 2021 (Part 2)

This @rdr-secret-cupid is for @outlawsworld ! I’m so sorry about it being a little late. I really hope that you like this, I really tried to incorporate horses and your appearance the best that I could without being overbearing.

Sorry about any formatting issues, I’m on mobile!

Happy (belated) Valentine’s Day!

——————

The Way He Touched You

Arthur Morgan x Reader

Word Count: 2,350

Warnings: None really, but there is briefly some hostile words and behaviors aimed at the reader.

You were a successful seductress and thief. You were making hundreds, sometimes thousands of money from tempting big burly oafs. They always figured you were no threat, with your small stature and physique. And don’t forget about your oh-so-charming Southern Belle act! These men were fools, and you played them like a fiddle.

Your mistake was staying in the same town and seducing every man who lived there. You no longer had an audience. No bites. No money. Until one day, when a new man rode into town on the finest horse you’d ever seen. He was loaded. But he was big, and strong.

You seduced the man, tricking him into buying you two a night at the nicest hotel around. Once you made your way into the room, however, that’s where things went wrong.

You’d gotten to the point in your routine where you would normally incapacitate your victim. Normally you would find an object close by, like a candle stick or a boot that had been kicked off. Well, when you smashed a glass dish over the man’s head, he did not pass out. Rather, he started bleeding profusely and screaming at you. You bolted out of the hotel, bursting through the door and jumping on the first horse you saw: his.

With a quick kick to the sides the Arabian horse went into a full gallop, the sound of its hooves hitting the ground mixed in with the angry yells of the man you just failed to rob.

Pretty soon, the law and the townspeople were on you. But your stolen horse was faster than them. Eventually it seemed that they had given up. You couldn’t hear or see anything. You slowed the horse and dismounted, giving it a nice pat and an apple (which was also stolen).

You must have fallen asleep, because when you woke up to the sound of thundering hooves and angry men the sky was a different shade of blue. Luckily the horse you’d stolen, who you now recognized was a girl, was still nearby, grazing on the overgrown grass. Unfortunately, she was not a very camouflaged horse. She was the brightest shade of white with a pink nose and blue eyes. The mob found you easily.

You ran and mounted the mare, kicking her to make her go. The horse bolted, and you made decent ground, but the howling of nearby wolves spooked her and she threw you off.

“Fuck!“ You were panicking. You had no other means of escaping. Horse theft was punishable by hanging. Is this how you would go? Suddenly a horse skidded and stopped beside you.

“Those friends of yours?” The man asked.

“No! Can you get me outta here?” You were on the verge of crying. You didn’t want to die.

“I can try! Hop on up here, miss.” You hoped you could trust this man. With a prayer you hopped onto the back of the man’s horse, and after grabbing hold of his shirt you were off. His horse galloped faster than the Arabian had for you, perhaps he was a kind and tender man with his horse.

The man, whose name you had learned was Arthur, took you into a concealed part of the wilderness. You were scared of where he was bringing you, but more scared of what would happen if you jumped off. You saw the dim light of a campfire, the sound of people talking, horses snorting back and forth as they noticed a stranger approaching.

You found yourself in a camp full of people. Arthur lead you over to a tent, where a man with jet black hair and a mustache greeted you. You told him your story, and he laughed and recommended you become friends with a girl named Karen. Apparently she was in a similar “business” as you.

That was almost a full year ago now.

Now you were a dutiful helper around camp. You of course did the regular chores that Ms. Grimshaw assigned you, but you had also become the caretaker of the gang’s horses.

Except Arthur’s. He insisted on taking care of his mare. The one time he had found you taking care of his horse he didn’t talk to you the rest of the day! You found it strange but you respected his wishes.

Currently you were grooming Taima, Charles’ Appaloosa mare. You were running a brush through her black and white fur, giving her encouraging words as you went on. You had finished your other chores: washing and drying clothes, washing bowls for the evening stew; the same old routine. A calm breeze drifted through the camp, causing leaves to flap around and Taima’s man to flow, ever so slightly.

You noticed the sound of hooves alongside the rustling of the flora around you. Arthur was riding in. He had been gone a couple of days on a hit. His horse looked exhausted, covered in sweat and mud.

“Hey, Arthur.” You greeted him. He tipped his hat towards you. He hitched his horse and walked towards you.

“Would you mind givin’ my old girl a brush?”

“I thought you didn’t like me tendin’ to your horse.” He sensed the slight attitude in your voice, you’d been holding a slight, although stupid, grudge since Arthur went silent on you.

“Please, (Y/N), she’s filthy. I can’t tend to ‘er right now...” Arthur headed off to Dutch’s tent, followed by the closing of the flaps. You gave Taima a once over; she looked shiny and clean. You headed over to Arthur’s mare, who nickered in response to you patting her hindquarters.

You gently brushed her, caked mud falling off with ease. She would need a real bath to return to her solid black color. You cleaned her as best as you could. Although her white socks were still a beige color, she looked pristine everywhere else.

Arthur soon returned, letting out a low whistle at the sight of his horse. Of course he didn’t like that he didn’t do it himself, but he praised you on your grooming work.

“You wanna go for a ride, (Y/N)?”

“Why?” You eyed him suspiciously.

“Do you wanna go for a ride or not?”

Without another word you got up on Arthur’s horse and wrapped your arms under his, your hands resting on his shoulders. The mare trotted into the woods, and once you all reached the main road you took off towards Valentine.

When you arrived, Arthur hitched his horse up outside of the stable. Was he buying treats? You followed him inside the stable, where he was greeted by the owner who was eyeing you suspiciously.

“Whatcha think about that one?” Arthur pointed towards a palomino American Standardbred.

“That’s a fine horse,” you said quietly. You didn’t have the money for such a creature, which you voiced with Arthur.

“‘Scuse me sir, I’d like to purchase this horse for my wife!” Arthur gestured towards the golden horse. Wife? Wife? Your face flushed red with anxiety and embarrassment. Arthur paid for the horse, your horse. He got you basic tack as well, and made sure you were good to ride. You didn’t know what to say.

You began to leave the stable, but the owner called after you.

“Wait! Here’s a brush and some treats... for... you...” A realization had been made. “Why— sir! That ain’t your wife! That’s the whore that stole all the men’s money in this town!”

“Don’t you call my wife no such thing.” Arthur warned the man, his hand gripping

his holster. You were flabbergasted, both at Arthur’s new title for you and that you had been caught... again.

The man grabbed at the skirt of your dress, trying to pull you off of your horse. You kicked at him, “Stop it!” You hissed at him, glaring him down. You weren’t scary at all, but perhaps Arthur’s presence gave you a leg up in intimidation. He grabbed at you again, his dirty hand gripping your thigh through the fabric. Without hesitation Arthur drew his pistol and shot the man, blood splatter making its impression on your dress and skin. Now you were certain your dress was soiled.

“Let’s go.” Arthur grumbled. Arthur called for his horse and mounted up. You both calmly left the stable, but you felt like you were burning alive with all of the eyes on you two. You could hear a familiar voice, the sheriff. As soon as you and Arthur had made it close to the outskirts, you bolted. You made a detour and headed towards Emerald Ranch, to avoid giving directions to camp if somebody followed you.

The sheriff and his deputies followed you, but gave up easily. Your horse was kind to you, and easy to handle. But he began to spook. You held on tightly to the reins, causing the horse even more irritation.

“Let loose on the reins, keep your ass in the saddle!” Arthur guided you. You already knew this, but you tried your best to follow his directions. Your horse did calm down after a moment, snorting at you after the ordeal. Arthur smiled smugly at you.

“So I’m your wife now, huh?” You teased Arthur, who was flushed a crimson red. He hadn’t really thought about that.

“In Valentine you are.”

If only he knew how you felt about it. You didn’t push it. You thanked Arthur for your horse, who you’d decided to call Flavian, after his golden appearance. Arthur thought the name was weird, but didn’t question it. The two of you rode off towards camp, traveling through the oil fields to get back. It was a long ride, but a safe one. The hot sun burned your skin, turning you pink. You didn’t think you’d be in the sun for so long, you hadn’t really prepared.

In a daze, you felt something hit your chest. Arthur’s hat. You looked at him, his head already facing forward.

“You’re turnin’ red. Just wear it for now.” You put on the hat, the scent of him forcing its way into your nose and causing a familiar heat to rush to your face. You reached the wooded surroundings of the camp, just as the sun began to set.

After you’d arrived Arthur grabbed a bowl of Pearson’s stew and retreated to his tent. You grabbed a bowl as well and followed Arthur, you needed to give his hat back. When you got close enough, Arthur was sitting and holding his head in his hands, frustrated.

“Arthur?”

“Yes, Miss (Y/N)?” He seemed startled.

“Your hat...” You pulled the hat off of your head, reaching it out for him to take. He looked up at you, beet red. He reached for the hat and gently took it from your hand. “Are you okay...?” You stepped closer, into his tent. He seemed a bit concerned about this, his eyebrows knitting together.

“I’m fine, Miss (Y/N). Just tired. Confused.”

“Confused about what, Arthur?”

“You.”

“Well, what about me?” You kind of laughed, trying to conceal any nervousness in your voice.

“Well, I— It’s not important, (Y/N).”

You silently took a deep breath. You stepped closer to Arthur and sat down beside him on his cot. He recoiled a bit. Ouch.

“What, Arthur?” You were hurt at how repulsed he seemed to be by your presence. Sure, he bought you a horse, but probably because Dutch or Hosea told him to.

“The way that man touched you today. I didn’t like it.” He mumbled. He knew of your past, how you used to tempt men. What did Arthur mean?

The thought of you ever being touched by somebody filled Arthur with a quiet anger. He was jealous today. Jealous and protective and possessive. Over a woman that wasn’t his to begin with. He had been for months, and it worried him.

“I didn’t like him touchin’ you. I don’t like... I don’t like anybody touchin’ you!”

“Arthur.” You brought your small frame closer to him. This time he didn’t recoil. You turned your head to look at him, his eyes avoiding you. You brought a gentle hand to his forearm, his bright turquoise eyes met your green ones. “Arthur I’m in love with you... how could you not tell? Ever since you saved me...”

“You can’t be in love with me...” Arthur laughed with a hint of sadness. He turned to face you, your knees touching. He brought a calloused hand to your cheek, looking like he wanted so desperately to kiss you, but pulled himself away. He seemed ashamed.

“But I am. I am in love with you, Arthur Morgan.” You looked down at the ground, fearful of what he might respond with.

How could you be so vulnerable? How could you just tell him you’ve been in love with him for a year? What now? Were you going to tell him how every time he left on a mission that you’d be so sick to your stomach with worry that you were scared you’d vomit? How you felt a twinge of jealousy and then guilt when he interacted with any of the girls? How every time you saw him you’d try to take a picture in your mind, just in case?

Tears pricked at your eyes. Oh, great, you were crying now. Arthur lifted your head back up and wiped his thumb across your cheek, wiping your tears away. He smiled softly at you.

“We can talk about this later, (Y/N)... I can’t stand seein’ you cry.”

You latched onto Arthur, in the tightest hug you could manage. He brought his big arms around you, careful not to squeeze too tight.

You don’t remember much of anything after. Arthur had been right, you were both exhausted from the heat today.

The next morning you woke up, still encased in Arthur’s arms. It was still early, nobody else had woken up but you were sure somebody had seen the two of you. Arthur also seemed to be awake, and ran his fingers through your hair.

“I love you too, (Y/N).”

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 fanfic #red dead redemption 2 fanfiction #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #rdr secret cupid 2021 #mine

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katerix · 3 years

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Hey @pinyapple! I’m your Secret Cupid! Here I am jumping from the horse into the last wagon of the event train:D I hope that the story is interesting, and you’ll enjoy it! @rdr-secret-cupid

Pairing: John Marston\f!Reader Warnings: fluff\angst&comfort\a hint of smut - 3in1: a little bit of this and that Words: 3434 (picture is not mine \ credits to the author)

“Morning, my dear girl,” said your father when you approached a big wooden table in the middle of the kitchen. “Good morning, dad,” you smiled, sleepily rubbing your eye.

It was a Saturday morning and today you woke up exceptionally late, about 1pm.

You were living on a small farm with your father. It was located a few miles away from the nearest town and it would’ve taken a half an hour to ride there.

You loved to take an old Travis the horse from the stable and ran away where the sun was waking up early. You liked to dream about travelling, adventures and far lands in the shadow of a big tree not very far from your house.

“I’ve been in town this morning,” said your father. “Did you? You never told me that you were going to. How was the ride? Everything was fine?” “Yes, sure. I saw Mrs. Anderson. She sent her regards.” “Oh, I appreciate that, thank you,” you smiled at him.

Mrs. Anderson was a nice woman who had a small flower shop and always gave you some flowers when you attended the town.

“I will drop in during the next visit,” you said while making yourself tea and sliced some more bread. “That’s what I’d like to hear!”, he replied.

Mr. (y\second name) was conservative when it came to the questions of manners. You were always expected to be a polite girl from a good family and you definitely were. But the young blood always desires venture. May it be caused by the stars location or chaotic decision of capricious gods, but something led you to the meeting with a man called John Marston on that fateful evening.

You opened the newspaper which was on the corner of the table and looked through some articles before you turned to your father.

“Dad? I wanted to go for a walk tonight. I heard that this evening will be special and the starfall must be observable from our part of the world!” “What do you say!” “Yes! I heard it from Mr. Douglas a week ago.” “You want to go out alone at night? You are a grown up lady and it’s not my privilege to tell you what to do, but don’t you think it’s a dangerous idea? There’re criminal elements in this area, you know that." “Oh don’t worry papa, I won’t be alone. I arranged to get together with our former sheriff’s elder son. He likes astronomy, do you remember that?” “Sure I do,” - he kept silent for some moment then said, - “Well. I think I can agree on that.”

Sheriff’s elder son was a man in his early forties and was married to a town girl and had already earned himself time to do astronomy, so there was nothing to worry about. Of course, getting such an alibi was a bold action, because if your father decides to ask about observing the stars, just from the point of good manners, the truth will be brought to the light. Your actual plan was to meet with John today. You also wanted to discuss a family dinner. The truth was that none of them knew about it - that’s why you were feeling a little nervous about the upcoming meeting. You wanted to introduce John to your father, but he always wanted you to unite for life with a noble young man from a prospective family, occupied in, let’s say, sales. Somehow you and John could hide your relationship for more than a year. His lifestyle, his bonds with the gang were making you question the possibility of your fine peaceful life together one day. And the fact that Mr. Marston never protested against these dreams of yours, was inspiring a warm feeling in your heart.

“So when do you want to leave?” “Around half past nine, it must be almost dark.” “You sure you don’t want me to escort you there?” “No-no, there’s no need for such sacrifice,” you giggled. Your dad gave you a delicate smile and sipped from his cup.

*** There was nowhere to rush now, when the father approved your little prairie voyage, so the rest of the day you spent in the garden behind the house. The territory of the ranch was quite big but the main part of your property rendered suitable land for agriculture. A small piece of it was gifted to you in order to plant flowers there. A lot of seeds were bought from Mrs. Anderson's, and sometimes you even brought her some of your own for sale. Roses of any kind and size, some tiger lilies and peonies- that all made your flower garden look great.

The closer to the time, the more excited you were. You dressed in a shirt and trousers with boots, with a thin fur jacket - for the night ride it was the best option - and took a creamy pink rose to put it in your hair once you are beyond the fence. You went down to find your father and say him goodbye.

“Dad, you here? I’m leaving!”

You looked into the living room, expecting to see him there with a book or at the table, writing another business letter, but it was empty. Then she heard a noise from the second floor and saw your father on the staircase.

“Already going?” “Yes, it’s high time. I’ll do my best to come back before dawn!” “What are you doing to your old man, young lady!” he laughed, making his way down the stairs to give his daughter an embrace. “Don’t worry, I will be fine, I promise. Please, you should think about your heart, papa,” you smiled widely, hugging him in an answer. “Be careful, my dear.” “I will,” you waved with your hand.

*** You almost approached the meeting point, when you felt your horse getting worrisome and saw the skies turning dark quickly. Rains in this area were starting as fast as they finished and you could only wonder “why now?”. Deep dark heavens didn’t condescend to the answer, so you just rubbed your legs in disappointment and continued riding to find a hideout before the first raindrops. You purposely avoided the Thieves Landing, so there were not many placed to hide from the rain on her way. During your and John's last meeting some days ago you decided to meet in the woods in West Elizabeth where there was a perfect spot upon the cliffs to watch the grand river from a distance, where not a single soul could disturb them.

Suddenly she heard a horse neighing then she saw a rider coming from behind the hill. At first you were dismayed as you didn’t have any weapon, but a moment later you recognized a familiar figure.

“Hey, sweetheart, isn’t it dangerous for such a pretty lady to ride alone at night?” then a low laughter followed.

When John’s horse got closer, you couldn’t help but resent:

“You scared the hell out of me! I thought it was a gangster who tracked me down.” “Well, actually I am a gangster, you see!”

As he hoped, your frustration was softened by his silly joke. It always gave him a warm feeling, because his sense of humor left a lot to be desired, but you always found it funny.

His horse drew level with yours, and he leaned down to kiss you, grinning when he saw how modestly you hid your smile.

“Oh no, y\n, do not hide this beautiful smile from me!”

You raised your head and looked at the man. His hand reached out to you and gently touched your chin, leaving a deep kiss on your lips.

“How was the road? Got without troubles?” asked John, picturing the way from the ranch to this point in his head. “As long as troubles don’t follow me - it’s fine by me. Why?” “It’s nothing really. On the way here I saw some gentlemen, heading west.”

John looked up in the sky and his eyebrows got together as he noticed how lightly you were dressed and how the sudden gust made your hair fly. “I know an old abandoned household not far from here. If we move right now, we can reach it before the storm.”

“I feel that something worries you.” “No-no, that’s totally fine,” he replied, taking a last look in the direction you came from.

After a while you finally reached the mansion that John was talking about. In real life it turned out to be bigger and more of a manor than “an old abandoned house”. Suddenly the skies split up in two by bright lightning, then a remote thunder hit your ears. You shuddered. What got into you? You were never afraid of thunder or darkness but this time something was scratching your heart with little iron claws.

You didn't notice that John had already dismounted, came over to you and put his hand on your leg, gently running it up and down.

“We going? Or you prefer to stay under the rain?” “Ah? Yeah,” with these words you tried to get down from the horse, only to end up in his arms, as he readily caught you up. You felt your heart beat faster against his chest, so you even wondered if he felt it or not, when you saw a dorky smile on his face.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered. That, obviously, was not the most non-banal compliment, but he couldn’t help but admire your features and the flower in your hair, which so perfectly accentuated the color of your eyes. John didn’t let you stand on the ground and carried you all the way to the mansion.

When you entered the building, you stood on the floor and looked around. Tall walls were covered in old, almost destroyed by dampness, dull red wallpapers. You walked around the room and stopped next to the beautiful, probably, handmade sofa. John walked up to you and cuddled you from behind. His hand traced along your stomach and slid to your leg. You felt his warm breath on your neck. You turned around and kissed his jawline, moved up to the lips. He answered with a deep, passionate kiss. Then, with a sharp movement, he lifted you up and put you down, pinning down onto the couch.

*** “John?” “Yeah?” his voice sounded low and lazy. “I need to tell you something.” “I’m all ears, sweetheart.” “Do… Do you love me?” you felt how your cheeks were becoming hot. You also realized how silly this may sound, but you couldn’t take your words back.

John looked down at you lying on top of him and thoughtfully twirled a lock of your hair around his finger.

“Of course, princess. Why’d you ask?”

You were not sure how to reply so you didn’t rush to look in his eyes.

“You remember my father? Mr. y\sn.” “I’ve seen him in the town once. But never after that. Is that about him? Did anything happen?” “No, everything is fine. I just wanted to ask if… Would you come for a family dinner tomorrow? I’d introduce you to my father…»

He kept silent for a while. So you started to feel nervous and asked yourself why you even initiated that conversation. But then he answered:

“I’m not in my best shape to show up in higher society, you know..”

Again you looked up at him. Then smiled and gently touched his cheek, fingertips slowly stroking his fresh scars.

“I absolutely love your current shape, John.”

You felt him pressing you against his chest closer, rubbing a little invisible patterns on your bare back.

“It would be a great pleasure to come, but… You sure your father would enjoy my company? Because I’m not sure at all.”

Now it was your turn to make a pause.

He chuckled:

“Let it be.” “So will you come tomorrow?” “I’ll be there. I promise.”

The second you heard that, you felt like a huge rock got down from your shoulders, finally letting you breath.

You spent some more hours together in each other's embrace.

*** You were sitting on the doorsteps when you heard a noise from behind the barn. You didn’t expect John to come so soon and also why he didn't choose an open road to the ranch. After a long talk your father agreed to have dinner all together, so there was no need to sneak. The next moment you saw two riders, coming around the corner, your eyes got wider. Suddenly you heard the sound of a cocked gun to your left and shuddered.

“Hello, ma’am. Mind if I come in?”

You looked at the source of the sound and saw a middle aged man with shirt red hair and a whisker. You never saw him before, but you had no doubt that he was some gang leader. His hazel eyes were looking cold at you and it seemed obvious that an argument was not an option - a weapon pointed at you was a thing to be scared of.

“Move,” he ordered.

Two riders who were supposed to divert attention got closer, and you recognised two customers from the shop a week ago. Their leader with a rifle repeated in low tone:

“Go.”

You followed the order without saying a word. Men entered the house after you.

“Tie her up. I don’t like her sight, and I don’t want any surprise.”

Three more men entered the house and God knows how many of them left outside. One of the newcomers took off a rope and tied your hands up - you felt a slight pain caused by rough material.

“Good. And now, Mr.(y\sn),” he turned to your dad, “let’s talk.” The ginger man made an inviting gesture. You looked at your father and saw fear in his eyes, but he was acting totally cool and calm. Two men, standing next to the door, were holding rifles at the ready. Your dad nodded and went to the kitchen, followed by the ginger man.

You stayed alone in the living room, other gangsters were standing outside. You didn’t hear the conversation and had no idea about the reason for this attack, so you focused on the rope. An attempt to get rid of it has proven unfruitful, so you looked around to find any tool.

When you were about to stand up and search the desk drawers, a loud shot rang out behind the window. You saw three gangsters running out from the kitchen, swearing and shouting curses. You carefully approached the window and looked out. A splash of bright red blood covered the window glass and you staggered back, breathing heavy and fast. You heard a familiar voice from the distance:

“Don’t hide, cowards! Are you afraid of just one man?” taunting his enemies was so much like John.

You already started to worry - what if he would have changed his mind and would never showed up? You were happy that he appeared, and did it right in time. The sounds of battle continued unabated, and you thought that now was the best chance to get to the kitchen. The moment you were already next to the door your sight faced a dark shadow suddenly appeared in the doorway. You looked up and with a horror recognised the ginger man. You wanted to step away, but he grabbed you faster than you could blink.

“Let me go!” you tried to escape this tight grip but he was stronger.

You saw your father making an attempt to hit the bastard, but he didn’t seem to even notice that. He turned around and knocked Mr.(y\sn) down on the floor with his revolver.

“You son of a bitch! You will regret this!” you shouted at him. That was not a wise thing to do, but seeing him hurting your relative made you mad in a second.

“Language, lady,” the gangster chuckled, making an effort to hold you still, as you were kicking furiously, “Relax. I won’t hurt you,” his left, spare of a gun palm touched your cheek.

You were breathing heavily. “Where are you, John» you thought. Another one shot rang out louder , and you heard a voice screaming curses. For seconds you couldn’t hear anything from the outside. All outlaws were probably dead or wounded. But three gangsters were still inside the house - one behind the door corner, two others were next to the windows.

“C’mon, be a good girl,” said the gang leader and pulled you after him. Together you returned into the living room and the man stood behind a small purpur sofa, facing the doorway - the revolver at the ready. You couldn’t see your father was sitting beneath the wall, holding his hand on the forehead, a thin blood line was going down the temple.

The sound of shooting was getting closer, you heard how two or three bullets hit the wall. If earlier the gang leader was a picture of self-confidence, now this confidence of his started fading away. You kept quiet just continuing to fidget slightly.

The minutes seemed endless but the voice ripped you out of your thoughts:

“Hey mister, let the girl go. You don’t want problems, believe me!” “What about you taking your cowboy ass out of here, now?” “I’ll let you live if you free her.” “Put your weapon on the floor so I can see it and step inside. Or I'm gonna shoot this pretty face.”

John hesitated but then followed the order and put the rifle on the floor, slowly pushing it inside.

“I’m coming in. Don’t shoot.”

You felt how the ginger man swallowed loudly. He was nervous. You saw John entering. His right hand was close to body, another one slightly aside, demonstrating that he was disarmed. The gangster revolver was following the cowboy as he was approaching. He said something else, but you already stopped listening. You didn't have time to think that it could be dangerous but suddenly you kicked him hard on the leg with the heel.

Then everything happened too fast. You didn’t notice how John took out a gun with his right hand and shot right between the gangster’s eyes.

“John!”

He rushed toward you, held your tied hands and hurried to untie them with his hands shaking.

“Shh-shh, you are safe, y\n, you are safe now, everything is fine,” he whispered.

Once you were free, he pressed you against him tightly, burying his face in your hair. You crossed your hands behind his back.

“You came!” “How could I not come?” he looked down at you, cupping your cheeks, and kissed you gently.

You hardly kept a smile back. You two remained this way for a couple of minutes until your breath became calm and quiet. You were too overwhelmed with emotions that you didn’t even see a bloody wound on his shoulder.

“Oh no, your arm! You are hurt!”

“It’s just a scratch, baby,” he smiled at you, clumsily hiding a pleasure of you being so lovely and cute, and worrying that much about him. “Let’s help your dad,” said John and kissed your hand.

He stepped aside holding your hand in his and headed to the corridor. Your father was already back on foot and, when he turned to you, you saw an expression of relief on his face.

“Oh, you are safe, my dear girl, thank God!” you ran towards the oldman and hugged him.

John was standing a couple of steps aside with his head slightly bent down and a faint smile on his lips, leaning on one leg, left hand on his side. Only now you noticed that he was dressed not casually, but as festive as possible.

Mr.(y\sn) looked at John and you saw respect in his eyes. He approached the cowboy and held out his hand in order to shake in gratitude.

“To my knowledge, our hero must be John Marston,” he gave a fast glance in your direction, “you saved our lives, young man. I can never thank you enough for that.”

John shaked your father’s hand with a friendly smirk.

“Don’t worry, Mr.(y\sn). That was my duty to protect unarmed people from this bunch of bastards.”

“Well, don’t you mind going to the kitchen? Everything was prepared an eternity ago. Do you like whiskey, Mr. Marston?”

You came a little closer to them to be a part of a talk too.

“Sure, sir.”

Your father went away, and John softly touched your waist to let you go first.

#sorry for the late post #rdr secret cupid 2021 #john marston #john marston x reader #red dead redemption

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rainbowreddead · 3 years

Text

Home

This is my rdr2 valentine’s gift for @letssetsailor The request was for Abigail x John fluff, and I really wanted to convey the feeling of home and how sweet life could be for a short time. The idea of John going out on long journeys like Arthur used to and bringing Abigail flowers when he returned. She would cherish everyone of them and plant them around the house. I hope you like it! ^w^

Ty for hosting @rdr-secret-cupid !!

#rdr secret cupid 2021 #Valentine's day #John/Abigail #JohnxAbigail #Rdr2 #John Marston #Abigail Roberts #Altho technically at the time she's Abigail Marston #Digital Art #my art #Rdr2 fanart #I spent way too much time on the house ahgjdkag but it was just so much fun bc it shows how they finally have a home with each other ;w;#Even tho they still have their problems they can live out what little they have left and be happy for a brief moment #Happy Valentine's Day I hope u had a good one!

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outlawsworld · 3 years

Text

Kidnapped

Arthur Morgan x Reader

Happy valentine's Day @gingerarlyss I hope I have done a good job for you!! @rdr-secret-cupid

Summary: the reader had been kidnapped by the O'DRISCOLL'S and Arthur comes to save the day!!

Warning: violence

Notes: I hope you enjoy it!! Never had a request before so I hope I did you proud!!

You opened your eyes slowly to see the dimly lit room. There was only one lantern on a table next to the wall illuminating the small corner you were in. You had been bound with harsh rope around your wrists and ancles and tied around a wooden beam. Dry blood had set over your eyelids which had trickled down your head from where you had been hit. Slowly you moved to see how much give the ropes had which you were disappointed to find they were bound tightly. Your muscles ached all over your body from being beaten, every movement made you cry in pain. The throbbing in your temple was like you were being hit repeatedly with a brick. You had no idea how long you had been knocked out for. Was it only hours or could it have been days?

‘’Awake princess?’’ came a rough voice from the corner of the room. You squinted your eyes to try see into the darkness. The small man came forward into the light. He had a slimy grin plastered across his face as he eyed you up and down. His hair was dark and messy with an overgrown beard covering his jaw. As he approached you slowly, he grabbed a small knife from his belt and crouched down you your level. ‘’The things I would do to you’’ he licked his lips. Without thinking you spat in the mans face and thrashed your bound legs at him to get him away from you.

He wiped his face with his hand before surging forward, jumping on top of you. Using his legs to keep you in place he pressed his body into you. His face was only inches away from yours. He brought the knife to your throat and the grin came back to his face.

‘’Now that ain’t nice’’ he growled. ‘’I’d be careful if I were you’’ the blade was cold against your skin. You trembled at its touch; you weren’t scared of death but this wasn’t they way you wanted to go. The line of work you were in wasn’t exactly the safest. You ran with a group of outlaws and had been for the past year. The law was always looking for you, the risk of being killed on a daily basis was high and you had come to terms with that. This group had picked you up after you attempted to pick pocket their leader, Dutch Van Der Linde. He quickly took a shine to you and asked you to join them. This group of people soon became your family and you would give anything to be back at camp with them right now.

You wish you had listened to them. They always told you to never wonder out of camp alone and unprotected. The night you had been taken by the O’Driscolls, you had stormed out of camp without a gun to defend yourself. Micah had gotten on your last nerve. He had been pestering you all day about being useless and a burden to camp. He then went on to tease you about being lonely and offering his bed to you. You had enough and had to cool off, you were only inches away from ripping his head off with your bare hands. Running out through the trees until you got to the road into Valentine gave you some space to calm yourself. The road seemed quiet, so you walk down it for a while. Little did you know a bunch of O’Driscoll boys had been watching you and when you were out of hearing rage from camp, they jumped you.

Such a silly mistake. You could hear Mrs Grimshaw’s voice in your head telling you just how stupid you have been. As much as you hated Micah and his constant antagonising you would much prefer his company over this right now. You hoped that someone would come looking for you but you didn’t hold your breath that they would find you in time. You hoped Arthur would come. What would he have to say about your idiocy? When you first joined camp Arthur paid you no attention and you assumed he was just as bad as Micah. It wasn’t until you began going on jobs or hunting with him that you soon became very close friends. He was the one person in camp you would go to for anything and what you would give to see his face right now.

The man on top of you pressed the blade of his knife into the side of your neck. You flinched away from the sting of your skin being cut. He sniggered under his breath as he removed the blade. You felt the warm trickle of blood that ran down your neck but you remained quiet. The cut was only minor, and you knew he was playing a game with you. Trying to see when you would break or react to him. You would be damned if you gave him the satisfaction.

Suddenly, you could hear gunshots coming from outside the room. There was shouting and thuds as the shots became louder. The man quickly stumbled from you to his feet. The weight of his body off you allowed you to shuffle as far as you could into the corner of the room. He placed his knife back in his pocket and grabbed his rifle from the side before making his way towards the door. Before he made it across the room, everything fell silent. He stopped still in his place, facing the door and fumbling with his gun. You caught your breath as you wondered what all the commotion was about. The man was visibly terrified by what could be waiting for him on the other side of the door.

‘’What the hell is goin’ on out there’’ the O’Driscoll shouted with his rifle pointed at the door. There was a brief moment of quiet before the door was kicked open and a tall broad man came storming in. The O’Driscoll had no time to react before a bullet ripped through his skull and his limp body fell to the ground with a thud. You looked over the body before looking up to find the broad man marching his way over to you. He had a bandana hiding his face, but you recognised the clothing he wore. A smaller man followed behind him but remained in the doorway.

‘’Is she alright?’’ the raspy voice came from the smaller man. You would recognise that voice anywhere, it was John. The broader man crouched down in front of you before removing his bandana. His face had a look of concern as his deep blue eyes gazed into yours. Arthur had come for you. Your heart fluttered at the sight of him. His face was more than a welcome sight. He used his thumb and forefinger to tilt your chin up as he examined you more closely. You must have looked worse than you thought as his jaw clenched and his eyes had a watery glisten to them.

‘’Those bastards, she’s alive but she’s gonna need more then a couple stitches’’ Arthur growled as he cut the ropes from your wrists and ancles. ‘’Can ya stand?’’ you nod at his question, your mouth was too dry to form words. As you try pushing yourself to your feet, your knees buckle and you fall forward. Arthur is quick to catch you with his strong arms. ‘’Come ‘er’’ he picks you up bridal style and you wrap your arms around his neck.

Arthur marches out the door with John following closely behind. As Arthur stepped out into the darkness the cold night air hugged your skin and made you shiver. You saw the bodies of the other O'Driscoll's laying scattered around the wooden cabin you were being held. Their horses were stood waiting patiently outside the cabin.

‘’Good to see you (Y/N)’’ John looked over you as Arthur lifted you onto his horse.

‘’Thank you both for comin’ for me’’ you croaked whilst smiling lightly but every movement was agony. John pulled a coat from his saddle bag and passed it to you. You wrapped yourself in the fabric and thanked him again. Arthur also handed you his water canteen and you rushed to feel the liquid running down your throat.

‘’John, get back to camp. Tell Dutch we have her and she’s fine. I’m gonna take her to get washed off’’ Arthur informed John in a dark tone. John glanced between you and him before nodding his head and cantering into the night. Arthur glanced up at you and you could see his brows were furrowed and his jaw tense. You knew him well enough to tell when he was angry and this was one of those times.

He mounted his horse and sat in front of you. You wrapped your arms around his waste and felt him instantly tense. He spurred the horse into a quick canter away from the cabin. You rode in silence, trying to keep your painful moans as quiet as you could. Arthur rode towards the river that was not far from camp without a word. When you got to the river he dismounted and helped you down too.

‘’Arthur?’’ you asked shyly after a long silence. It wasn’t like him not to speak to you, especially after what had just happened. You watched as he took a deep breath in, his back was towards you as he looked out over the lake. ‘’I’m sorry….’’ You began to say before you were cut off.

‘’Do you know how god damn worried I ‘av been (Y/N)’’ Arthur turned towards you. His voice was raised, his anger aimed at you. You looked at your feet trying to ignore his burning eyes into you. ‘’You just take off, unprotected. I told ya never to do that. What if you had been killed?’’ he paused waiting for an answer.

‘’I’m sorry Arthur. I know I messed up’’ you pleaded. ‘’I just got annoyed and that ain’t an excuse but I didn’t mean for this to happen’’ you looked up into Arthurs stern face. Your eyes began to water and you could feel your chest getting tighter. He began to close the distance between the both of you.

‘’Never do that again, ya hear?’’ he was standing over you now. You nodded unable to form the words in your mouth. His eyes soften slightly as he looked over you. His broad frame towering over your smaller one. He was a mountain of a man, you could understand why people didn’t mess with him especially when he was like this. ‘’I can’t loose you (Y/N), you mean too much to me’’ the words knock the breath out of your lungs as you looked into his moonlit eyes.

There was something different in the way he looked at you. The both of you had been friends for so long and you would be stupid to deny that you had been sweet on him for a while. Who could blame you? He was devilishly handsome, build like a brick house but was the kindest man you had ever met. You both got on so well but you always denied anything would ever happen. He had never shown interest in you or any of the other women. You assumed he was still pining after Mary, his old love. Only now, Arthurs lips were only inches away from yours, the heat coming off him was intoxicating. His gaze went between your eyes and your lips and your heart began to beat frantically in your chest. Was this a trick of the light or was Arthur leaning in closer to you.

A squark from the river made you both jump back into reality. You looked out to see a couple of birds fighting on the water. Arthur quickly cleared his throat and stepped back, leaving a bigger gap between your two bodies. You caught your breath again but fought to keep the disappointment in your face from surfacing.

‘’Lets get ya cleaned up before we take ya back’’ Arthur broke the silence with a tug of a smile on his lips.

#rdr2 #red dead redemption two #arthur morgan #rdr2 arthur #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption arthur #john marston #red dead redemption john #rdr fanfiction #red dead redemption fanfic #rdr secret cupid 2021

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