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verai-marcel · 2 years

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Master List of RDR2 Fics

Last Updated: 3/18/2023

Trigger Warnings in (parenthesis), other tags in Chapter 1 or beginning of fic. If a link doesn’t work, check #writing or #rdr2 fanfic or #rdr2 drabble or #rdr2 headcanons to find it. Latest fics have a *NEW* next to them.

I’ll try to mark things as Female Reader (F!Reader), Male Reader (M!Reader), or Gender Neutral Reader (GN!Reader). If I forget, just let me know so I can update.

Red Dead Online Original Characters are on the bottom of this list. Also find them tagged under #rdo oc.

Also all my fics (including ones not posted on tumblr) can be found on my AO3 page here: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Verai

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One Shots (Newer fics at the top of the list):

Spy Awry 2: Mail Room Boogaloo - Arthur x Fem!Reader, modern AU, 18+ (DubCon)

Spy Awry - Arthur x Fem!Reader, modern AU, 18+ (DubCon)

Serendipitous Meetings - Arthur x Fem!Reader, modern AU, 18+

Forever and Always - Arthur x Fem!Reader, fluff

Of Dragons and Love - Arthur x Fem!Reader, 18+

Sharing is Caring - Arthur x Fem!Reader, Charles x Fem!Reader, 18+

Maid for Him - Arthur x Fem!Reader, Canon divergent AU, 18+

A Bear of a Man - Werebear Arthur x Fem!Reader, 18+

Know Your Place - Angry Low Honor Arthur x Fem!Reader, 18+ (NonCon, DubCon)

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My Series:

The Upsides of Property Damage (3 of 5 chapters posted, Ongoing, co-author with @shootybangbang)

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

Double Dedication - AU, Morgan Twins x F!Reader, 18+ (Complete)

Between High & Low: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

Possession & Punishment

Payback

Vulgarity & Vows: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

Noir AU - Arthur is head of security in a night club run by the Van der Linde family, and you’re a backup singer in the club. (Complete)

My Song Bird - Arthur x Singer Fem!Reader, 18+

Instinct - Arthur x Singer Fem!Reader, 18+

Ride Through My Heart - Modern AU - “Biker AU” - Tattoo Artist Arthur x Dancer Fem!Reader, John x Florist Fem!Reader, 18+ (Complete)

Before This Dance Is Through - Modern AU Tattoo Artist Arthur x Dancer Fem!Reader - Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

Clean - Side Story

The Things That We Could Be - Charles x Journalist F!Reader - Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

This Is Perfection - Model Javier x Photo Intern Fem!Reader

Do What I Dare - Tattoo Artist Arthur x Dancer Fem!Reader

Neighborly Affection - AKA “Neighbor AU”, Modern Mechanic Arthur x IT Help Tech Fem!Reader, 18+ (Complete)

The Man Next Door: Chapter 1 - Beginnings | Chapter 2A - High Honor Arthur version | Chapter 2B - Low Honor Arthur version

First Round’s On You: Side A - High Honor | Side B - Low Honor

Meeting The Friends - Side A - High Honor | Side B - Low Honor

Playing Dress-Up - Side A - High Honor | Side B - Low Honor

Stress Relief - Side A - High Honor | Side B - Low Honor

Taking Time For You - Side A - High Honor | Side B - Low Honor

Tech Support - Side A - High Honor | Side B - Low Honor

Domestic Bliss - Side A - High Honor | Side B - Low Honor

Life Level Up - Side A - High Honor | Side B - Low Honor | Epilogue

Corrections - Modern AU - “Prisoner AU” - Prisoner/Construction Worker Arthur x Prison Guard Fem!Reader, Charles x Vet Fem!Reader, Javier x Barista Fem!Reader, 18+ (Complete)

Submit to Release - Low Honor Arthur x Fem!Reader, originally a request one-shot (DubCon)

Side Story: Arthur’s First Day Out - Arthur & Charles, best buddies

Invitation Only - Medium Honor Arthur x Fem!Reader

Into The Wolf’s Den | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 - Medium Honor Arthur x Fem!Reader

Revealing More - Medium Honor Arthur x Fem!Reader

The Reality of Idle Fantasies - Medium Honor Arthur x Fem!Reader

Lost and Found - Charles x Fem!Reader

Side Story: Charles Volunteers - Charles volunteers at an animal shelter

More Than Words | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 - Charles x Fem!Reader

Confessing Darkness - Arthur x Fem!Reader

Caring for Kitten - Charles x Fem!Reader

All Tied Up - Arthur x Fem!Reader

Breaking Habits - Charles x Fem!Reader

Absolution - Arthur x Fem!Reader

What Is Real | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 - Javier x Fem!Reader

Sweet Surrender - Arthur x Fem!Reader

Forever In Your Arms - Vampire Arthur x F!Reader, 18+ (Complete)

Part 1: Midnight Rendezvous: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

Part 2: Midnight Promises: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 (TW: some angst, assisted suicide, death, blood)

Desperate Desire - AU - “Deputy AU” - Deputy Arthur x Doctor’s Assistant/Burglar Fem!Reader, 18+ (Complete)

Sinful Payment: Low Honor Arthur x Fem!Reader (NonCon)

A Fortnight of Falling: Medium to High Honor Arthur x Fem!Reader (DubCon)

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

A Reason to Return - High Honor Arthur

An Unconventional Union - High Honor Arthur

Inescapable Rapture: Low Honor Arthur x Fem!Reader (DubCon)

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

Back Alleys Are No Place For Proper Ladies - Low Honor Arthur, Consensual Non-consent

Taste of You - Incubus!Arthur x Fem!Reader, 18+ (Complete)

Part 1: The Sweet Taste of You

Part 2: The Pure Taste of You

Inevitably, Irrevocably - Arthur x Female OC (Links to AO3)(Complete)

Trial

Tribulation

Torment

Tempest

Terminal

Time & Again

A Corrupting Touch - Low Honor Arthur x Gender Neutral Reader, 18+ (Complete) (DubCon, NonCon)

Part 1: Compulsion (NonCon)

Part 2: Coercion (NonCon)

Part 3: Constriction (NonCon)

Part 4: Captivation (DubCon)

Captured Hearts - Low Honor Arthur x Bounty Hunter Fem!Reader, 18+ (Complete) (DubCon)

Part 1: Reversal of Fortune

Part 2: Chase Me Down

Part 3: Let Go

Part 4: Breaking Point (TW: Attempted Rape)

Wind and Water - Arthur x OC, Grace Chang - Short fics

Open Hand, Closed Fist

Chopsticks

In The Palm Of His Hand

A Name By Any Other

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Tumblr requests/gifts (Newer fics at the top of the list):

Not What He Seems - Arthur x Fem!Reader, High & Low honor, 18+

Low Honor | High Honor

Holiday Surprise - Charles x Fem!Reader, Christmas Lovin’, 18+

Heart of Starlight - Arthur x Unnamed Female, Mythology-inspired, 18+

After-Heist Delight - Samson Finch x Fem!Reader, 18+

Snapped - High Honor Arthur x Fem!Reader, 18+ (Slightly DubCon)

Time For Us - Charles x Arthur, fluff, romance

A Smile Worth More Than Gold - Arthur x Eleanor Ivie (OC), fluff, romance

Hidden Desires - Low Honor Arthur x F!Reader, 18+

Surprises - Arthur x Gender Neutral Reader, lingerie, 18+

Motivational Training - Dual Honor Arthur x Gender Neutral Reader, Modern AU, 18+

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2A - High Honor | Chapter 2B - Low Honor

Healing Touch - Low Honor Arthur x Healer Fem!Reader, 18+

Locker Room Lesson - Arthur, John, Charles, & Javier x Fem!Reader, Modern AU, 18+

Rough Competition - Low Honor Arthur x Fem!Reader Outlaw, 18+

Helping Hands - Low Honor & High Honor Arthur x GN!Reader with sensitive gag reflex, Short Fic, 18+

Better Than a Dream - High Honor Arthur x Fem!Reader Outlaw, 18+

Solicitations - Arthur x Fem!Reader, based off this drabble, 18+

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

Business Time at the Bistro - Store Manager Arthur x Fem!Reader, Modern AU, 18+

untitled drabble, takes place after story

Alternative Payment - Low Honor Arthur x In Debt Fem!Reader, 18+ (NonCon/DubCon)

Trapper Keeper - Arthur x Trapper Fem!Reader, 18+

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2A: High Honor | Chapter 2B: Low Honor

Just This Once - Arthur x Abigail, 18+

Giving Up Ain’t So Bad - Low Honor Arthur x Bratty Fem!Reader, 18+ (DubCon)

Reading Between The Lines - Arthur x Librarian Fem!Reader, 18+ (Mild DubCon)

Mail for You - Low Honor Arthur x Mail Carrier Fem!Reader, 18+

The Better to Take You - Werewolf Arthur x Fem!Reader, 18+

RIde'em Cowgirl - Low Honor Arthur x Drunk Fem!Reader, 18+

A Curious Experiment - Low Honor Bounty Hunter Arthur x Reader, 18+ (DubCon)

Male Reader | Female Reader

Defying Discipline - Low Honor Professor Arthur x Fem!Reader, Modern AU, One shot, 18+ (DubCon)

Playing for Keeps - Low Honor Arthur x Fem!Reader, One shot, 18+ (NonCon, DubCon)

Worth the Risk - High Honor Arthur x Fem!Reader, One shot, 18+

Steal A Moment With You - Low Honor Arthur x Fem!Reader, One shot, 18+

Lesson In Humility - Low Honor Arthur x Rich Virgin Fem!Reader, One shot, 18+

One and Only - High Honor Arthur x Fem!Reader, 4 Chapters, 18+

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

Getting Into Character - High Honor Arthur x Fem!Reader, One shot, 18+

A Hard Lesson - Low Honor Arthur x Fem!Reader, One shot, 18+ (DubCon)

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Tumblr Headcanons: Search for RDR2 Headcanons!

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Tumblr Drabbles:

untitled - Charles x Reader, fluff by the campfire (Gender Neutral)

Sensitive - Arthur x F!Reader who orgasms too easily, 18+

Installing - Arthur helps install your cable modem (Gender Neutral)

untitled - Arthur has a skinny crush (Gender Neutral)

When Love Blooms - Arthur is the Death Horseman

Arthur in Modern Times AU Series (Gender Neutral):

untitled - Christmas time, Arthur gets a mistletoe belt buckle.

untitled - Arthur helps get rid of your headache, 18+

untitled - Arthur learns about BDSM, 18+

Caught - Wacom Tablet Pt. 2 - Arthur learns what a blow job is, 18+

Wacom Tablet Pt. 1 - Arthur learns how to use a Wacom tablet

untitled - Arthur helps crack your back (Gender Neutral)

Part 1 | Part 2 - Arthur gives you hugs (Gender Neutral)

untitled - Charles gives you a comforting hug (Gender Neutral)

Imagine bartender!Arthur - Arthur as a modern day bartender (Gender Neutral)

Black Belle - Arthur submitting to Black Belle, 18+

Shower Singing - Modern!Arthur sings in the shower, F!Reader

Uniformly Speaking - Arthur as a UPS delivery man, Modern AU, GN!Reader

untitled - Arthur teaches GN!Reader how to kiss

untitled - Beer enthusiast GN!Reader x Arthur

untitled - Soliciting Arthur for “services” (Gender Neutral)

untitled - Merperson GN!Reader x Arthur

Dream Dad - Single Dad Arthur x Single Parent Reader, Gender Neutral

untitled - Bartender!F!Reader x Arthur

untitled - Gender neutral reader sucks on Arthur’s fingers, 18+

untitled - Modern AU, Charles practices hairdressing on you (Gender Neutral).

Change of Standards - Modern AU, Arthur & You walk through Target (Gender Neutral).

See What I See - Modern AU, Arthur gets scouted by a modeling agent (F!Reader).

Timeslip - Modern AU, Arthur falls into a time portal and meets you (Gender Neutral).

GIve or Take - Arthur drops his journal, and you pick it up (Gender Neutral).

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Everett Osborn - RDO OC

Everett’s Backstory

Cactus - A short convo between Everett and the local sheriff.

Everett x Thief F!Reader series (Complete):

Domestication - Everett traps you, 18+ (DubCon)

Dominion - Everett finds you again, 18+ (DubCon)

Rewarding His Pet - Everett runs into you and gives you a reward, 18+

Between the Law - Everett x GN!Reader x Tom Davies, 18+

Mistaken - Drabble - Everett gets mistaken for another cowboy.

untitled - Drabble - Everett meets said cowboy after borrowing his hat.

An Unexpected Development - Everett x Allie Foster, RDO AU, OC x OC, 18+

Verai Marcel AKA Min - RDO OC

Verai’s Back Story

untitled - Drabble - A little bit of angst, featuring Fletcher

Firsts & Lasts - Verai/Min x Mateo, a story of her past, 18+

Everett x Verai x Mateo

Inexplicably Inevitable - Min & Everett run into a ghost from the past. 18+, MM, MMF

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 *NEW*

Everett x Verai

Dumpling - Verai/Min & Everett make new year’s dumplings.

Counting Stars - Songfic, Verai & Everett work on their relationship.

untitled - Drabble, Verai & Everett, right after their first night.

Forward - Drabble, Verai, with Everett’s help, moves forward from her past.

Cathartic - Verai tells Everett about someone she loved in the past.

We’ve Only Just Begun - Full Fic - When Everett met Verai for the first time.

Braid - Short Fic - Everett has more skills than he lets on.

Decision - Short Fic - Everett makes a decision. Feature Kira, Stevie, & Ruby from Death Squad.

Stay - Drabble - Everett finds his safe place.

Soft OC Ask - Drabble - A short journal entry from Verai about Everett.

Names - Drabble - Everett asks Verai for her real name.

Rain - Drabble - Everett has a moment in the rain with Verai.

#masterlist #rdr2 fanfic #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #arthur x oc #arthur x reader #rdr2 #fanfic #charles smith x reader #everett osborn #everett x reader #charles smith

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84hotpockets · 3 years

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Stupid thought of the day - Busted

I think the team members have clothes for about 5 to 7 days in their go-bags. What happens when a case drags on and they have to stay 10 days or even longer? It's probably unlikely but for the sake of this stupid thought let's assume it happens.

If they are in a big city and a good hotel, maybe there's a (dry) cleaning service. If there's no cleaning service or dry cleaner, do they all get into the SUV, drive to the next laundromat, grab some take-out on the way and spend the evening talking about the case while watching their clothes spin around in the machines?

What if there's no dry cleaner or laundromat? Do they call home and ask friends or family to pack another bag, have Anderson and Garcia collect those and then ship the bags overnight to wherever they are? Do they buy new clothes or do they try to do their laundry in the hotel room's bathroom, wet socks, boxers, briefs, panties, bras, shirts and trousers occupying every available surface that can be used for drying them?

Just imagine they have to shop for new clothes. The team members draw straws to find a male and female “volunteer” who's going to do the shopping for all the others. Morgan draws the short one so he gets Reid's order - there's no way Rossi is going to let Morgan or anyone else pick out clothes for him - and then goes looking for Hotch. He finds him in the small conference room the local Sheriff lets them use, sitting in front of his laptop. "Hey Hotch, I've drawn the short straw and will ride into town with Prentiss to get some new clothes. I already have Reid's order. Your usual style of boxers, some of those white t-shirts you like to sleep in and 2 dress shirts for you? Althtough I don’t know why you bother with the tees since most nights they end up on the bedroom floor anyway.”

Morgan is met with silence and Hotch face-palming. "Hotch, everything alright man?" His only answer is Garcia's voice that comes loud and clear out of the laptop's speaker. "I knew it! I knew something was going on between the two of you! Rossi now owes me 50 bucks!"

"Morgan, I think we're busted."

"Yeah, you don't say."

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #cm fanfiction #hotchgan #stupid thought of the day #fanfiction #penelope garcia #busted

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funkiya · 3 years

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Sheriff Morgan, at your service

#arthur morgan #rdr2 #Big teddy bear

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rrickgrrimes8 · 3 years

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Can I get rick grimes x gender neutral reader

The reader was an elite solider in the U.S army when the virus happened. They been traveling the South for five ½ years alone. So now they landed in Georgia when the Saviors and Rick Group are at war. One day Rick is attacked by the Saviors, but the reader saves Rick from the Saviors with a rifle but escapes before Rick ever notices. Days later the reader meets Rick (like how Jesus met Rick.) But Rick captures the reader and interrogates him. In the end Reader reveals how he saved Rick. Rick then forces the reader work/live with the group even though the real.

A Soldier ~ Rick Grimes imagine

hey sorry for the delay ive been super busy coz i just started school back after isolating and i’ve been doing exams all week

also for anyone else who requested i’ll try and complete them soon really sorry please remember i haven’t forgotten about yall i’m just busy

anyways @iawaythrown hope you like this thank you for requesting

let me know if there’s any mistakes so i can fix it thank you x

masterlist

request guidelines

request are open

The sun had set hours earlier but that didn’t stop you. Unrelenting you continued through the heat and the exhaustion. You couldn’t stop. Not now. Not after everything you had gone through. Even before this, you wouldn’t allow yourself to stop. Being one of America’s pride and joys serving as a respected sergeant. You had served 10 years before the world went to shit and it made you laugh now. You always thought that the meaning of your life - the purpose - was to protect and serve against threats to the U.S.A. If only you knew that your greatest threat was against the dead now living. You were grateful, more than anything. You had a lot more in this world than others did. And now 5 1/2 years later you were still going. Never stopping. Not for anything.

Except... when you caught wind of a certain curly-haired man. He was being attacked and was substantially outmanned. You thought the best use of your time was to protect people just like you had in your previous life. The man was cornered now by the time you’d made the decision to help him. Three men dressed in leather charged him with any weapon they could find. He fought against them - to the best of his ability. Which seemed to be skilled at least. You gripped your trusty rifle, aimed the scope and without hesitation fired.

One man fell.

Then the next.

And then the last.

The blue-eyed man scoured the area for you, curious about the location of the shots. You, however, were smarter than that. You didn’t know this man. You didn’t know if he deserved what those men would’ve done to him but you did know trust is to be earned in this world not given carelessly. You ducked away out of his vision. But you never strayed far from the man.

You could say curiosity got the better of you. Naturally and from a very young age, you’d always pester, investigate, fight for answers when they really weren’t warranted. Your mom used to tell you how curiosity killed the cat but you preferred to say it saved the cat. Being curious never hurt anyone and it certainly came as an advantage to you. When meeting people you knew how to hide, how to watch. And yes it may be creepy but it was necessary. You weren’t stupid, far from it, so why stop your ways now?

The man didn’t return back to a camp after the attack - one that you knew he had due to his clean and well-presented appearance. He continued through the area, meeting up with a tall brooding man accompanied with a crossbow. The two seemed close. Although despite how few words conversed between them, you knew they were. If either of them fell into some trouble the other protected. They were family - maybe not blood - but no doubt in your mind we’re they like brothers.

It had been days now and these men were still on their run. By this time you were even doubting if this was worth it but you shook off the thoughts and continued. It wasn’t your intention to draw attention to yourself. Hell, it was something you were taught against. But it happened. You, rather carelessly, stumbled across them. It all happened so fast. You saw someone in the woods - walker maybe. But at that moment you decided against your inner workings and ran. Stupidly you ran straight into this man.

“Watch it,” He growled pushing you back slightly. They glared at you threateningly, guns were drawn.

“Wha’ ta hell ya doin’?” The crossbowman snapped. His deep southern accent growing darker through his words. He was on edge. It being clear that interactions like this hadn’t always been a blessing.

“Was just passing through. Calm yourself, alrigh’?”

Unimpressed he looked to the blue-eyed man who was fixed on your stance. “You looked in a hurry. Trouble heading this way?” The man inquired warily.

“Nah not really,” You paused looking back to the area, “Well maybe I'm not sure.”

“Not sure? What's back there?” He looked at you suspiciously hand still grasped around his colt python. You didn't say anything to them as a sound overcame the atmosphere. It sounded like a twig, perhaps just a wondering dead but they didn't see the rational side. "Who are you? Who are you with?" The blue-eyed man barked edging the pistol closer to your face.

"Hey, chill man. My names y/n, alright? And I'm not with anyone. I'm on my own, okay?" The men shared a look before turning back to you unbelievingly. You opened your mouth to justify your case but was interrupted by a smack to the side of your head. You fell to the ground, gazing at the two men still.

And then... nothing.

Hours later your eyes snapped open. Alert, you searched through the room. It was a cell. A traditional one with an iron gate. One you knew from past experience weren't the easiest to break out of. Especially after spotting a man floating around the exit. "Hello?" Your head burned as you spoke likely due to a concussion but you powered through it. The man stopped pacing and glared at you. He was a dark-skinned man, holding what looked like a stick. But the main thing was that he was clean. You had noticed earlier how the two men didn't look as ragged and dirty as you did. Telling you they had a home. Now seeing him proved it.

"Hello," He said back, "Names Morgan, yours?" Your rational side shut your mouth for you. You didn't know these people. Hell, they kidnapped you. They didn't deserve your name. And you resented how you caved earlier and told those people. "Not much of a speaker, huh?" Again silence, "You didn't have to be afraid of me. I won't hurt you."

Begrudgingly you responded, "I'm not afraid of you." "Your not?" "No, I'm not. Not of you. Not of those men who brought me here. Not of anyone," Morgan almost laughed at your response.

"You're quite brave, aren’t you?" You shrugged etching a smile on his face, "you'll fit right in here."

"Who says I want to stay?" You countered. "I have a feeling," He smirked before another person entered the room.

"They awake?" Morgan nodded and exited.

The blue-eyed man from earlier entered your view. No words were exchanged between the two of you. You understood he still perceived you as a threat, which you knew you very well could be. You'd do what you have to. That's what you told yourself. After years of service to the army that swam around your mind like a mantra. You'd done some horrific things for your country now and before but you didn't let it rot you to the core like your comrades. You did what you had to. There was never an exception. So if these people decided to try something you'd do what you have to.

"Who are you?" He interrogated swiftly. Telling you that this wasn't his first rodeo. He was a cop or maybe even in the army like you.

"I already told you," Coldly you returned.

"Yeah well, I don't believe you," He persisted.

"I don't entirely know what you want me to do with that," you scoffed, "I can't force you to believe me. But I know my name. I know I'm alone. I know I don't mean to bring harm to your people unless I have to."

The man grunted. He hated how he began to believe you slightly. "Why were you running then?"

You sighed, "I was following you."

"You were following us?" He growled, "Why?"

"You were attacked. Those men I killed them," You revealed, "I was curious. So I followed you. I saw a walker or maybe it was a person... I don't know. I ran and bumped into you. That's all. I have no ulterior motive."

"Just because you tell me you have no ulterior motive doesn't make me inclined to believe you," He let out a harsh breath.

"What more do you want, huh? Want me to do a polygraph?"

He chuckled, "No. Of course not. But I don't trust you."

"So let me go," You promoted.

"I can't do that," he shook his head erratically.

"Why not?"

"You're valuable. If what you say is true that you did save me. Then I... we can't let that go, alright?"

You gaped at his confession, "So you're gonna force me to stay here?"

"Not exactly... we'd prefer if you did from your own will but if we have to," He quirked his eyebrow at you, "What do you say?"

Sarcastically you laughed at his proposition, "You're crazy."

"No, I'm Rick. Rick Grimes. And this," Rick gestured to your surroundings, "is Alexandria. Hopefully your new home."

"How do you know I'm not gonna kill you all in your sleep?" You furrowed your eyebrows at his naivety.

"I have faith that you won't. I searched you when you were out," He went into his pocket pulling out a medal you had gotten for serving in Iraq, "A soldier? I was a sheriffs deputy myself and I know I wouldn't have it in me to kill all the people in here - the children. I know you wouldn't either."

"You're right I wouldn't but... but we're not the same, Rick. We never will be," Rick tilted his head.

"I know," He spoke honestly, "But I feel like we're similar. You'd do a lot to save someone you'd never met. That's someone we'd like in Alexandria. Y/n you saved me. And I know you can save a lot more. So what do you say?"

You sighed moving closer to the cell door, "Okay."

#rick grimes x reader #rick grimes x gender neutral reader #rick grimes #rick grimes imagine #rick grimes twd #the walking dead #the walking dead imagines #the walking dead request #the walking dead x reader

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littlestarofthewest · 4 years

Photo

Title: You’re Mine | Word Count: 4190 | Pairing: Arthur Morgan x male reader

Tags: angst and smut | Rating: Explicit (18+)!!!

Summary: You’re hanging around the saloon, waiting for someone to finally pop your cherry, when you suddenly run into a lot more cowboy than you can handle.

Part: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11 - coming asap]

Over the next few days, you learn two things about John Marston. He's both extremely resilient and annoying. Despite almost bleeding out, John is quickly back on his feet, and it takes you a while to convince him that he can't just head out the door and go back to camp.

The sheriff came by your house once more, telling you to be careful out in the woods since the outlaws are still at large. You managed to get more information out of him, and unfortunately, the police are still looking for the bank robbers. You're worried that they might even find the gang's camp, but John convinces you that his people would be smart enough to clear out before that happens.

You spend your days trying to give John something to do during the day so he won't lose his head, and in the evenings, you sit together with a drink. You get a few stories out of John about the camp members, and he's all too happy to tell you embarrassing things about Arthur. You love to hear more about him from someone else since it turns him into a normal person with faults rather than the perfect man you made him out to be in your mind.

One day, you're about to head out to get some new information when there's a knock on the door. As always, John quickly heads down into the hidden cellar before you open up. Outside is an older man with gray hair, accompanied by two women. One of them has dark hair but bright eyes, holding herself like she won't take shit from anyone. The other woman is younger, with a soft smile and kind eyes.

"Can I help you?" you say, wondering if they might have moved to town and are looking for your services as a hunter.

"I hope so," the man says. "A friend of mine, Arthur, tells me you're the man to talk to when one is looking to hunt around here. Maybe we can have a word?"

Your heart starts beating faster when you hear Arthur's name. If he's sending someone from his gang, they must have made it back to their camp. "Sure, come in."

You let them in, and as soon as you close the door, the dark-haired woman turns to you. "Where's John?"

"Abigail," the man says in a warning tone before turning to you. "I'm Hosea; these are Abigail and Mary-Beth. Arthur told us how you helped our men after the robbery. I wanted to have a look around and see if we can take John back with us."

He holds out his hand, and you shake it before looking at Abigail. "Don't worry, John is fine."

You head over to the hidden door and open it. When John comes up, he doesn't look particularly happy. Abigail heads over to him and hits his arms and chest. "You stupid man! Almost bleeding out for nothing. We should just leave you here."

"Sorry," John mumbles, looking into the ground.

You're about to intervene, maybe tell them that John's wound wasn't that severe, but Abigail already throws her arms around him. John hugs her, running a hand up and down her back.

"Where would we go to get an idea about the current situation?" Hosea asks, and you have a feeling that he's trying to give John and Abigail some alone time.

You hold out your hand, leading him and Mary-Beth over to your table where you sit down together. "It's not a big town, so your best bet is always the saloon. Even the police are hold up there at times. You shouldn't be too nosy, though. Not everybody takes kindly to strangers."

"I see," Hosea says, and you can see his mind working. "I still want to have a look. Mary-Beth can pretend to be my daughter, and we'll make it look like I just want to be sure we can safely travel to my cousin's farm."

"Sounds believable," you say.

Hosea looks over to John and Abigail, who still quarrel with each other, just not as loudly as before. "You mind if we leave them here for a bit?"

"Not at all," you say, and Hosea sighs.

"We'll try to be quick."

He and Mary-Beth head out, and when you return to John and Abigail, they seem to have sorted out their fight.

"Thank you for taking care of him," Abigail says.

"No problem. John's good company." Abigail looks like she doubts that, but doesn't object. You point to the table, beckoning her to sit down. "Can I get you something? Tea, maybe?"

"Try some strong coffee instead, nothing else will do with this one," John grunts.

Although he doesn't sound friendly, Abigail looks at him a lot more affectionate than before and gives you a nod. "Some coffee would be great."

You brew a fresh pot and sit down with John and Abigail, an awkward silence hanging over the room. "So, you're Abigail," you say, needing to say something to fill it.

John's eyes grow wide while Abigail side-eyes him, probably thinking that he talked about her. "Yes, why?"

"After we got John out of jail, we made camp on the way back, and he said your name in his sleep," you explain. "Just made me wonder about the girl who appears in a man's dreams."

Abigail stares at you open-mouthed for a moment before her cheeks gain a bit more color. She gives John a quick look, but he's staring into the table, so she turns back to you.

"I get why he likes you," she says, becoming the one who's confusing you.

"Who?"

"Arthur," Abigail says, her face turning softer. "He's different since he met you, happier. Some of the guys made fun of him, you know. Look at him, off to meet 'pretty boy' again. But I'm glad."

Now you're the one staring at her. The thought of Arthur being happier because of you makes you giddy, and you're surprised that his gang members actually talk about you.

"I guess we get along quite well," is the only thing you can think to say.

"Whatever it is, it's good," Abigail says, persistence in her voice.

You fall into more silence and take a long sip from your coffee, racking your brain for another topic of conversation. You're not sure you can handle more of Abigail's confessions.

"So, how did you guys meet?"

John huffs a laugh, finally looking up at Abigail. She's smiling, and the look they share sure tells a lot about how they feel for each other. They might argue, but they obviously remember meeting each other with fondness.

"It's a silly story," Abigail says, making John grin.

You lean back in your chair with your coffee. "Then I can't wait to hear it."

John and Abigail take turns telling the story, and you forget all about the police and why they're even here. Sitting with John in the evenings, just talking, has already been so nice. Sitting with friends and chatting is something you longed for more than you thought.

The bubble of bliss pops rather quickly when Hosea and Mary-Beth come back, though. "It's worse than I feared," Hosea says. "Those guys won't give up anytime soon."

"Don't tell me I need to stay here," John grunts.

The words sting a little, but you convince yourself that it's nothing against you. John should go back to his people.

"We can hide you in the wagon. That shouldn't be a problem," Hosea says, and both John and Abigail look relieved. "But I don't think we should stay. I'm gonna talk to Dutch about moving camp as soon as we get back."

The others don't look too happy at the prospect of moving but nod along. You, on the other hand, are filled with a sudden surge of dread. If Hosea thinks it's dangerous for them to stay, they won't just move to another place in the area, they're going to move away. Away from you. Arthur had a hard enough time visiting you as it is; he won't be able to come if their camp is days away.

"I think we should go right away," Hosea says. "Thank you so much for your help."

He shakes your hand again, and all you can do is nod along, the darkness inside of you growing so fast that you can barely fight it.

"Thanks, friend," John says, clapping you on the shoulder. "Like I said, you really saved our asses."

He heads to the door with Abigail, but Mary-Beth takes a step towards you before they can leave. "We can't just go. We have to take him with us."

"You know about the rules," Hosea says, although there lies sympathy in his voice.

"But Arthur…," she insists but trails off as if not sure what else to say. "He can't come back here."

"She's right," Abigail says. "They should be able to say goodbye."

Your heart fills with joy, and you praise the women for their warmth. "I would appreciate that," you say.

Hosea nods. "Come along then."

You only take your rifle with you and leave right away, making sure that nobody spots John. Taking your horse, you ride alongside the wagon. If anybody asks, you can pretend that you're looking out for these defenseless folks and just try to show them the lay of the land.

The closer you come to the woods, the faster your heart beats. Between some trees, you spot Bill. He's watching the road, and Hosea holds the wagon for a moment. "I think it's best if you wait here. We'll tell Arthur to meet you."

"Thank you," you say, your mouth dry.

"Take care," Abigail says, while John tips his hat at you and Mary-Beth waves with a smile.

They disappear, and Bill takes a last look at you before venturing deeper into the trees in the direction of the camp, leaving you to wait in the silence of the woods.

------

It takes an eternity until Arthur appears between the trees. He's riding up to you, his face mirroring what you're feeling. You wonder what you could possibly say to him, but he already waves you along.

"Let's ride for a bit," he says, his voice empty of emotion.

You close the distance to him, and you trot along next to each other. Arthur leads the way, bringing you to a small cabin that you might have passed a few times on your hunting trips. You leave the horses outside, Arthur holding the door for you.

You've never been inside here, but it looks like an old hunting cabin that someone recently stocked up a bit. There's even a bed in one corner that seems decent enough for a night's sleep. You and Arthur sit down on it, silent until you can't take it anymore.

"So, your gang is leaving."

"Yes, tomorrow morning," Arthur says. "I have to go with them. I can't- I can't stay."

The way he says it at least tells you that he considered other options and that alone soothes your soul. "I understand. You have to stay with your people."

Arthur shakes his head while fumbling with a rough patch of skin on his hand. "I'm sorry, I really am," he says. "I never should have come back. I mean, I knew we'd leave eventually."

"It's alright, Arthur," you say, taking his hand so he won't hurt himself. "I'm happy about the time we had."

That's not the whole truth. You are happy to have met Arthur, but you feel anything but alright. Still, it won't help either of you to blame him.

"How are you so kind?" Arthur asks, his voice full of wonder.

You shrug your shoulders while Arthur keeps looking at you in a way that makes your heart melt. You want for things to be alright, just one more time, so you lean in to kiss him. Arthur lets your lips brush against his for a sweet moment, but then he draws back.

"I can't do that to you," he says. "Not like this."

"I wanted to be with you the second we met. I don't know why I've been so afraid," you say, stealing another kiss from Arthur. "I want to be with you, even if it's just once."

Arthur sighs, clearly not sold on the idea, so you lean in and press your forehead against his. "You promised not to let me die a virgin, remember? I'm holding you to that."

A short chuckle breaks out of Arthur, and he puts his hand on your neck, closing his eyes. "I did promise that."

He takes a few more deep breaths before kissing you, and this time you know he won't stop. He's holding your face in his hands, savoring each touch of your lips as if he'll have to remember them forever.

Then, he moves on, kissing along your jaw and down your neck while working open the buttons of your shirt. You let Arthur push you back onto the bed, and you close your eyes to focus on every touch. Arthur peels you out of your shirt, and his hands run over your chest and stomach, quickly followed by his lips.

You arch your back, a tingling feeling surging through you, all the way from your neck right to your cock. When Arthur notices how you push up, he puts his hand over your bulge, teasing you with a hard rub before opening your pants.

With every inch of skin Arthur lays bare, you realize that this is it, that you'll finally be with a man. For the first time, you're not afraid but excited. Your body relaxes, and you're able to enjoy every touch and kiss.

Arthur looks down on you with wistful eyes. "I'll miss that view."

You've never considered yourself particularly pretty, but it's hard not to believe Arthur. You sit up to throw your arms around his neck. "Let's make this worth remembering then."

You barely stop kissing while it's your turn to peel Arthur out of his clothes. He lets you take the reins, and you push him back onto the bed to crawl on top of him. His hot skin against your own is better than anything you've felt before. Just being close and kissing Arthur gets you hard, and it becomes impossible not to move your hips to rut against him.

Arthur trails his hands over your body as if he needs to remember every line and curve, and his touches feel like flames licking your skin.

"I want you, Arthur," you murmur, and when he looks at you, you can't help but smile. "I hope you got that oil on you."

"I might," he says, making you grin.

"Planning ahead, are you?"

A deep red crawls onto Arthur's cheeks. "Told you, it's just in my bag and-"

You interrupt Arthur with a kiss. "Hey, I'm not complaining."

After you give Arthur free, he fetches the bottle while you sprawl out on the bed. For once, you have no trouble relaxing when Arthur prepares you with the oil. His touches are careful, and he keeps checking in with you to make sure that you're alright until you urge him to move on.

You're so giddy, you worry you might actually spread wings and flutter off the bed. When Arthur rubs his cock between your cheeks, you hold your breath, and time stands still for a second.

It feels a little strange when Arthur pushes into you, just like the time he did it with his fingers. You're glad about that memory, though. Just like then, you try to relax, and Arthur puts his hand flat on your stomach.

"Breathe, darling," he says, and warm waves spread from his hand all over your body.

You take a few shaky breaths, and you and Arthur share a little laugh.

"You okay?" he asks, and you stretch your arms out to him.

"Come here," you say, and when he leans in, you put your arms around his neck. "All good."

Arthur gives you a small nod before kissing you, and you're so entranced with the way his tongue rubs against your own that it takes a while before you notice his slow movements.

The feeling is still a little unfamiliar but not bad. What hurts, though, is the thought that you won't have a chance to get used to any of this. You bury your face in Arthur's neck, breathing him in while you hug him closer to you in a desperate attempt to ingrain this into your memory. Every touch, sensation, and scent.

"Am I doing okay?" you whisper against Arthur's skin, and he chuckles, making you feel the vibration of his chest against your body.

He pushes himself up so he can look into your eyes. "Okay? You're goddamn perfect."

You feel the heat rushing to your cheeks and cast down your eyes, but Arthur won't let you get embarrassed. "Look at me, darling."

With the way Arthur marvels at you, you can't bring yourself to look away again. Under his gaze, every move and touch becomes even more intense. When Arthur picks up the pace, your lips fall open and you can't hold back the moans.

Arthur silences you with kisses now and again, but he's moaning as well, and soon, you're both panting with your bodies moving in unison. You drink Arthur's desperate breaths from his lips, and for every push of him, you roll your hips, welcoming him with your whole body.

The feeling of him inside you becomes less alien but something to be desired, and whenever Arthur goes faster or thrusts harder, he makes sure that you're okay.

It makes you wonder if that's what made you hold back for so long. The thought of being taken by a stranger in a side alley still makes you anxious, but this is different. You know Arthur and trust him. He makes you feel safe and cared for. You don't quite dare to think about it, but you feel loved.

The thought unravels something inside you, like leaves blown off a tree by a gust of wind. You can't help the tears welling up in your eyes, and when they run down your temples, Arthur freezes.

"Am I hurting you?" he asks, panic in his voice. "Do you want me to stop?"

He already retreats, but you pull him close. "No, it's alright. Don't stop."

Arthur cups your face with his hand, brushing away the tears. "You sure?"

"I've never felt liked that before," you confess. "In a good way. I've never thought that this is what it's like when I saw people be together."

"It's not always like that," Arthur says. "But with you-"

He doesn't finish the sentence, lost for words. Instead, he leans in and kisses you again. It's like you both took off the vail, tearing down the last walls of defense.

You don't think much anymore. Instead, you just embrace being with Arthur. Soft kisses, warm touches, and the constant rub of him inside you. The room fills up with moans and grunts. You wrap your legs around Arthur, his body as slick with sweat as yours, as he pushes into you with deep thrusts.

"God, that feels good, darling," you sigh, your fingers clawing at Arthur's shoulders.

You can feel him shiver under your hands, and he takes a few deep breaths. "Not sure how much longer I can do this. You feel too goddamn good."

"I don't mind if you come," you say, the thought sending a thrill through your body.

"I do," Arthur grunts. "It's your first time. You're not here to please me."

"But I-"

"But nothing," Arthur interrupts you, leaning in so that his lips brush against the shell of your ear. "You're mine, remember?"

"Yes, I'm yours."

"You'll be such a good boy for me now," Arthur says, his words broken up by the movements of his hips. "I want to remember you like this."

Arthur moves faster, with more purpose. His lips trail along your neck before he props himself up to look at you again. "I'm going to watch you come."

"Arthur-" you whine, the way he talks sending heat waves through your body.

"That's it," he says, his hips snapping forward, "come for me, darling."

Getting off has never felt like this, not on your own, and not even with Arthur. Having him this close, trusting him - it sets you free.

Moans tumble from your lips, Arthur's name peppered in when you begin to lose control. Your fingers dig into his skin as you come completely undone. For a moment, everything is too much. Your body goes rigid with your heart hammering against your ribcage, and you can do nothing but stare into Arthur's eyes.

Your cock is pumping between the two of you, warm come painting your stomach, and from one second to the other, all pressure is gone. You melt into the bed under you, muscles soft. When Arthur leans in, you barely manage to kiss him back.

"You okay?" he asks, and you wish you could praise him for how good he made you feel, but you're exhausted.

"More than okay," you say, "Jesus."

Arthur chuckles, and you fall into a half-sleep. You notice how he leaves you and comes back to clean you up. Then he lies down next to you, and you muster the strength to roll over so you can press yourself against his chest.

"Thank you, Arthur."

You don't understand the words of his reply, but to the sound of his warm voice, you fall asleep.

--------

You wake up to Arthur nipping along your neck, so you roll over and kiss him. His hands caress your body, tracing your slightly sore muscles. It's a strange sensation to feel worn-out and happy at the same time.

The world outside is still dark, so you focus on enjoying your time with Arthur as long as you can. You barely talk, but kiss and touch, never letting go of each other.

Only when the sun rises outside, and more and more light falls into the cabin, you have to admit to yourself that time is running out. With the way Arthur looks at you, he must feel the same.

You both dress in silence and head outside, readying the horses. Then you walk over to Arthur, your heart heavy.

"So," you say, "I guess this is it."

Arthur nods, but a deep sigh breaks out of him. "I hate this."

He seems to be searching for more words, but when he stays silent, you're reminded of the other times when he left you.

"What if I come with you?"

Arthur's head snaps up, something sparkling in his eyes that makes you hopeful, but then he shakes his head.

"Remember how you said that I didn't have much choice?" he asks. "You were right. I didn't, but you do."

"What if I choose you?"

"I can't let you do that."

"But-"

"But nothing-" Arthur shouts, but his expression softens when you flinch from the sudden outburst. "I am what I am because I couldn't do anything else. Your uncle made sure you could. Do you want to throw that away?"

The mention of your uncle shoots like a dagger into your heart. You wish you could disagree, but Arthur's right. Your uncle sacrificed a lot to keep you on the straight and narrow.

"Guess I'm not suited for outlaw life anyway, huh?"

Arthur laughs, visibly relieved that you don't argue to come with him. "No, I said so from the beginning. Not a sweet one like you."

He draws you in for a kiss, and you hold on to him. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Are you Arthur Morgan?"

You feel how Arthur goes stiff under your arms, but his voice stays calm. "I am. Why?"

"When I heard about Dutch, those men also talked about you."

"Probably nothing flattering," Arthur grunts.

"They were scared," you admit, and Arthur searches your eyes.

"Then why aren't you?"

"Because you're a good person at heart," you say, making Arthur scoff. You take his face into your hands to force him to look at you. "You are. Promise me to remember that."

"Can't promise that."

You roll your eyes, but something else fights its way into your mind. "Can I ask you for something else then?"

"Sure."

"Remember me?" you plead, your heart aching with the reason for the request. "I can bare a lot of things, but I don't want to be forgotten. I want to sleep in an old cabin or sit by a fire and know that sometimes, you do the same, and remember me."

"I could never forget you," Arthur says, touching his forehead to yours.

You stay like this, holding on to each other until the sun comes up. Arthur is the one to finally let go of you, and after a quick goodbye, he rides off without looking back.

You've never hurt so much in your life.

#arthur morgan x male reader #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 smut #arthur morgan x reader #my writing

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multifandomfanfiction · 4 years

Text

Hotel Room Keys

TITLE: Hotel Room Keys PAIRING: Spencer/OC RATING: T CHAPTER: One-shot SUMMARY: Every time the team checks into a hotel, Spencer and Clara exchange extra room keys.

The team arrived at the hotel after a long day at the precinct. Hotch and Rossi handed out the room keys and everyone started to pair off.

She’d been roomed with Penelope this time, which she didn’t mind. Clara walked over to the place where they kept the tea and made herself a cup.

Spencer brushed past her.

“Hey, are…?”

“Check your pocket.” Spencer shot her a smile as he followed Morgan to the elevator.

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a room key. That sneaky bastard.

“Hey Sugarbear! Ready to go?” Penelope asked her.

Clara nodded and tucked Spencer’s room key into her jacket pocket.

“I think I’m gonna go shower. Then head to bed, if that’s alright with you? I’m not feeling too sparkly tonight,” Penelope said as they entered the room.

“That’s fine, Penny.” Clara set her stuff on the bed and pulled out her phone.

We clear? ~ C

A moment later, her phone buzzed.

Not yet. Morgan wants to go out. I’ll let you know when he’s gone ~ S

Clara felt bad that they had to sneak around behind everyone’s backs, but without Spence she wouldn’t get any sleep. Not even a minute later, her phone buzzed again.

All clear ~ S

Clara changed into her pajamas and made her way down to Spencer and Morgan’s room.

Spencer opened the door already in his pajamas. “Hey! Did you want to watch something? Or maybe order some room service?” he asked.

“I’m really tired. Let’s just go to bed.”

Spencer nodded and the both of them climbed in bed.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Morgan had just entered the hotel after a couple of drinks when his phone buzzed. “Hey Babygirl. What are you doing up? Shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

“I can’t find Clara!”

“Woah. Calm down, Penelope.”

Penelope sniffled. “I told her I was just going to take a shower and when I came back, she was gone! She left her phone here. Morgan, all her stuff is still here. Oh god, what if something happened to her!”

“I’m sure everything’s fine, Penelope. Maybe she just stepped out of the room.”

“That’s just it! I’ve looked everywhere for her! I checked the lobby and I even asked if any of the staff had seen her.”

“Penelope. Go to bed. I’m sure she’ll be back by morning. If she’s not at the precinct in the morning, we’ll organize a search party. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Now to bed, crazy woman.”

“Okay. Goodnight Derek. I love you.”

“I love you too, Penelope Garcia.” Morgan hung up and made his way up to the room. When he walked in, he saw another body in the bed with Spencer.

The two were cuddled up facing each other, but they were still fully clothed. Morgan stepped closer and saw it was Clara.

So that’s where she’d disappeared to.

Morgan chuckled and grabbed his bag before making his way to Penelope’s room.

“Derek?” she asked.

“I found her.”

“Oh my god! Where?”

“She’s in Pretty Boy’s room.”

“She’s with Spencer?! You don’t think they’re…”

“Well they were both fully clothed by the looks of it.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The next morning, Spencer and Clara were woken up by knocking on the door.

“It’s probably Morgan,” Clara said.

“Then tell him to go away,” Spencer told her.

She got out of bed and answered the door. Her heart dropped when she saw Hotch on the other side. “Hotch…”

“This isn’t your room.”

“Who is it?” Spencer asked. He joined her in the doorway.

“I’d like to see you both after breakfast.”

After a very tense breakfast, they made their way to the precinct.

Spencer, Hotch, and Clara entered the sheriff’s office.

“I need to know this now. Are you two sleeping together?”

“What? Hotch, no!” Spencer protested.

“We just spent the night with each other. I have trouble sleeping in hotel rooms,” Clara explained.

“So nothing sexual happened?” Hotch asked.

“No. I swear Hotch,” Spencer said.

“Spence and I are only friends. Whenever we check in, Spencer slips me one of his room keys. We’ve never been romantically involved, but if we were you’d be the first to know.”

That night was different from the first. Hotch talked to Morgan and Penelope about rooming together, so Clara and Spencer could sleep in the same room and the two of them agreed. It was obvious the two profilers did better work when they spent the night together.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Did you want to?” Spencer asked Clara on the jet.

“Did I what?”

They were sitting with JJ and Hotch.

“Want to be romantically involved?”

Clara’s mouth dropped open. What was he doing?

Hotch looked up from the file he was studying while JJ was staring at Spencer.

Clara tried to laugh it off. “Spence, what are you talking about?”

Spencer leaned forward and set his hands on hers. “You know what I’m talking about,” he said, his voice dropping.

It made her shiver. “You’re serious?”

“I wouldn’t joke about this.”

Clara looked at Hotch who gave her a small nod. “Okay.”

“Yeah?” Spencer smiled and she returned it.

“Yeah.”

“Good. Great.” He sat back in his seat, smirking at her.

Her cheeks burned and she wanted nothing more than to grab his tie and pull him across the table so she could kiss him. She couldn’t wait to get off this plane. The moment they touched down and Clara’s feet hit the pavement, she spun around and kissed Spencer.

Spencer returned the kiss, enthusiastically.

The two pulled away from each other, but stayed wrapped up in each other’s arms.

“So…who wants to ride with the disgustingly new happy couple?” Emily asked.

#spencer reid #spencer/oc #spencer reid imagines #Criminal Minds #criminal minds imagines

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sweets-fanfics · 4 years

Text

Homecoming 5

Title: Not in Camp

Word count: 2946, aka chonky chapter

Warnings: uh... fluff I guess

A/n: Long chapter cause I don’t know when to stop

----------

When the three of you returned Arthur took off towards Dutch’s tent while you returned Jack to his momma.

“There you are!” Abigail called to Jack as you pulled him down and handed him the necklace he made. “Did you have fun?”

“Yeah! I made you a necklace momma.”

Abigail took it in her hands and put her hand on her chest in awe. “Well ain’t I just the luckiest women.” She glanced up at you, “Oh and I see you gave the princess her crown.”

“Ms. Roberts…” You started to say.

“Oh, I’m only pullin’ your leg. Thank you for taking him out for a bit. Did somethin’ happen though?” She glanced at Arthur talking to Dutch.

“Eh… somethin’” Dutch looked over to you and waved you over. “Shoot, guess I better go.”

“Thank you again,” Abigail said.

You walked up to Dutch and Arthur, “Are you okay, Y/N?” He asked as he put a hand on your shoulder, you noticed his eyes quickly glanced at the crown Jack made you.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just sad we had to cut Jack’s day short.” You shrugged.

“But those men, you two are sure they didn’t recognize you.” He asked firmly.

“They didn’t seem to have any idea who I was, Pa.” He nodded.

“Dutch, I’m not sure how safe we are here…” Arthur started to state.

“We’ll be fine, son,” Dutch reassured him. “For now just be careful. Y/N no more leaving camp.”

You looked up at him annoyed and shocked. “What? I didn’t do nothin’,” You groaned.

“I’m going to make sure the Pinkertons have no idea who you are, and if that means holdin’ you ‘prisoner’ for a bit then so be it. Do I make myself clear?” The two of you stared each other down before you finally flung your arms up and stomped towards your tent.

You admittedly threw a bit of a tantrum for a bit. Staying in your tent and snapping at anyone who tried to enter. At some point, you must have fallen asleep because you opened your eyes to discover how dark it was out.

You peaked out of your tent and saw a few people around the fire. You crept past them so no one would see you as you tiptoed over to Suzie. You gave her a snack and petted her for a moment.

“And what do you think you’re doing, my dear.” You spun around as Hosea lit a cigar.

“Uncle Hosea you scared me.” You sighed.

“Guilty people usually get scared the most. Are you sneaking out of camp?”

“What? Little old me? No… no just seeing Suzie.” You lied.

“Uh-huh, and where were you gonna go?” He asked as if you had answered him honestly.

You sighed, “I was goin’ to go into Valentine and buy a gun. Dutch won’t let anyone give me one.”

Hosea chuckled, “He just cares.” He suddenly tossed you a rifle. “I take it you are goin’ huntin’ right?” You looked at the rifle in your hands. It was a Winchester.

“Hosea, where did you get a gun like this?” You asked him.

“An old man like me has his ways.” He walked up and put a gun belt around your waist that even had a pistol in it. “Use my old gun belt and pistol. I got a new one today because I misplaced my old one.” He winked at you before turning away. “Don’t get hurt. And try to be back before the sun rises.”

You smiled at him as he walked off. You loved your uncle Hosea. That’s for sure.

You saddled up as quietly as you could before making Suzie slowly leave camp. As you left camp and headed towards Valentine you felt a weight lift off your shoulder slowly. You did feel slightly guilty. Only slightly though. You knew Dutch and Henry would be pissed but you wanted to prove you could help and that you could do more than be the damn camp princess. You had originally planned to hunt but when you passed the bounty board you couldn’t help but stop and look.

You saw one for some ‘Edmund Lowry Jr.’ wanted for suspicion of murder. Sounded easy. If he hadn’t been charged yet maybe he didn’t do it. You shrugged and ripped the paper from the wall.

“So you’re a bounty hunter now?” The sheriff asked as he watched you put the paper in your bag.

“Waitressing wasn’t payin’ enough.” You smiled sweetly.

“Well, since you quit the food sucks. I should arrest ya for that alone.” You gave him a soft ‘get serious look’ “I wouldn’t go for Lowry, people have been having issues with him.”

“Thank you for the warning, but I got this.” You assured him as you climbed onto Suzie. He kept trying to convince you to take an ‘easier one’ so you stopped him the only way you knew how. “I thought I saw the butcher’s wife go into your office the other day. I hope she’s okay.”

The sheriff suddenly shuts his mouth and gives you a dirty look as you smirk, “Don’t talk about what you don’t know, bring Lowry alive.” And with that, he stomped inside. You hated cheaters.

Lowry’s location wasn’t too far. You hoped off Suzie before walking up to the door and knocking. “Excuse me? Is anyone home I got lost.” You lied.

“Who is it?” A voice asked.

“I’m headin’ into Valentine for a new job.” You said with ease.

A man opened the front door. His hair was parted down the middle and had a mustache kinda like Uncle Trelawny’s.

“I’m sorry to bother you, sir.”

He seemed to try to hide a smirk. “Not at all my dear. Edmondy Lowry Jr. at your service.” He held a hand out for you to shake.

“Oh good, I knocked on the right door.” Before he could realize what you said you flung him on the ground and started to hogtie him.

“What… what’s going on? Who are you?”

“My name doesn’t matter, but you sir are being taken into the sheriff’s.” You smiled as you began dragging him to Suzie.

“Oh, it’s about time I’ve been caught. Did you like my work?” He asked.

You rolled your eyes as you put him on the back of Suzie, “Thank the lord I have not had the pleasure of seeing your ‘work.’”

“Shame really, perhaps you could let me use you?” He asked.

“Not sure my family would enjoy that.”

“Can we make a stop on the way so you can see my work?” He asked.

“This is going to be a long ride, isn’t it? You asked.

You started riding back to Valentine when you noticed someone men on horses were following you. “Mr. Lowry do you have friends I should be worried about?” You mumble to him.

“I do believe those are bounty hunters like yourself.” You groaned and tried to go faster but a ride got in front cutting you off. Suzie stopped right away almost flinging you off.

“Hey missy, you need help with that bounty?” The man asked.

“Nope, I’m good.” You said flatly.

“We’d been staking out his place for weeks and you just walked up and took him down like that.” One behind you said.

“She duped me, sadly.” Mr. Lowry started.

“Shut up or I’ll hit ya.” You threatened.

“Why don’t you hand him over. It’s only fair.” You watched the man in front of you casually pull a pistol out.

You noticed someone riding up behind the man in front of you. You saw the blue shirt you love and knew at least you had back up. “No… my uh... Partner specifically said I have to turn him in.”

“Your partner isn’t here so let’s just do this the easy way.”

“Well her partner is here.” That wonderful man said in his gruff voice. “So maybe you two should leave her alone.” Arthur’s pistol clicked.

“Hey, we had him first.” Arthur hit the bounty hunter in the back of the head knocking him out.

You turned and aimed your pistol at the man behind you. He immediately put his hands up, “I’ll leave,” He quickly turned and took off.

You smiled and put your pistol away before hopping off your horse. “Thank you, Mr. Morgan-”

“Are you just tryin’ t’ piss your daddy off?” He cut you off as he walked up to you.

“Does he know I’m gone?” You asked.

He sighed, “No. I saw you talkin’ to Hosea and leave. Hosea asked me to keep an eye on ya.” He looked down at you.

You just wanted to give him a quick peck. But the two of you had an audience.

“Oh, miss bounty hunter why didn’t you tell me you had a significant other?” Lowry said as he tried to crane his neck to see the two of you. You turned around to kick him but Arthur pulled you back by your collar.

“I think we’ll get more money if you turn him in alive.” He suggested. You took a deep breath composing yourself.

“You are correct sir.” You climbed back onto Suzie.

“I must say miss bounty hunter, your horse spacious.”

“Are you calling my horse fat?” You said starting to reach for your pistol.

“No no!” You felt him wiggle around. “I just am usually not on quite comfortable horses.”

“You don’t strike me as a horse man.” You admitted.

“No, I guess your right. Killing is more of my speed.” He said nonchalantly.

“Uh…” You looked at Arthur ahead of you. He turned around raising an eyebrow. “Maybe it’s best to shut up now.”

Thank god he was quiet for the rest of the ride. You got off Suzie in front of the Sherrif’s building. Arthur offered to pick him up but you simply grabbed the man’s ankles dragging him off your horse so his face would fall in the mud. Then from there, you dragged him inside leaving Arthur quite impressed.

“Ah, you caught the serial killer.” Sheriff said.

“Serial killer?” Both you and Arthur responded.

“Didn’t you know?”

“No! The wanted poster said under suspicion.” You yelled.

The man shrugged. “I must’ve forgotten to update the poster.”

“You think? Where’s my pay?” He put the money on the table and you snatched it away. “Thanks for nothin’ have fun with this lunatic he talks a lot.”

You walked out and to Suzie. You grabbed Arthur’s amount and turned to give it to him. “You went after a goddamn serial killer?” He questioned.

“I didn’t know. And do not tell Dutch.” You demanded.

“Y/N you gotta look into shit like that. I can’t always run to your rescue.”

“Well, then it’s a good thing I don’t always need it. I’ve just had bad luck lately.” You sighed. You took his hand and gave him a soft smile. “I’m sorry.”

He sighed signaling your victory. “It’s… it’s okay.” He kissed your forehead. “How about you head back to camp. I have to meet Marston.”

You perked up, “Whatcha doin’?” You ask.

“Train robbery.” He says softly seeing as you were both near the sheriff.

“Can I go?”

“No, you have had enough adventure for the day.” You rolled your eyes and got on Suzie.

“Arthur… that kiss the other day…” You started.

“I really would love to court you properly, Y/N.” He admitted almost making you fall off your horse. “But let’s take it slow test the waters… especially so Dutch won’t shoot me.”

You must have been grinning like an idiot because he looked up at you and chuckled, “Ya seem to like the idea, so I hope it’s a yes.”

“Oh trust me, Mr. Morgan, it’s yes.”

He patted your leg smiling. “Well, get home then, I’m sure Hosea has some sort of excuse made for you.”

“Be safe, okay? I’ll give you a kiss if you don’t get a single scratch.” You teased.

“Well, I better be safe then.” His face slowly turning red.

---------

As you road into camp sure enough both Dutch and Henry were waiting. Both standing the same with their arms crossed. You attempted to do a dramatic eye roll but you still had a dumb smile on your face from Arthur.

“Where the hell were you?” Henry asked as you hitched Suzie.

“Out.” You replied simply.

“Hosea said he sent you and Arthur to run an errand for him… Even though I told you to stay in the camp.” Dutch added. He seemed to notice your smile.

“Well, if that’s what he said… then that’s what happened.” You took the camp share from your bag and handed it to Dutch while humming softly.

“And how in the world did you get this much money?” Dutch asked counting it.

“I have my ways, father.” You walked to your camp still humming and smiling.

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

Henry

“What is up with her?” Dutch asked watching after you.

“I think it’s Mr. Morgan.” Henry sighed. “She has been smiling a lot more recently.”

Dutch eyed you suspiciously as Abigail and Sadie walked by. Sadie almost didn’t feel sad as she watched you almost dance into your tent and disappear.

“Oh, she’s in love.” Abigail laughed.

“Definitely,” Sadie added.

“Love? They have known each other for a month.” Henry rolled his eyes.

“Boys don’t get it.” Abigail sneered jokingly. “It’s so cute. Dutch you have to let them figure things out.”

“What… what did I do?” He asked almost offended.

“John told me about your, ‘no funny business’ comment a few weeks ago. They are cute together and so far I’ve seen Arthur do nothing but treat her with respect.”

Dutch rolled his eyes. “I...I don’t know.”

“She’s a grown-up Dutch Van Der Linde.” Abigail put her hands on her hips. “Be supportive not a shadow.” She took Sadies arm and the two of them walked off.

“I will never understand women.” Dutch walked to his tent leaving Henry alone and still confused. He looked around spotting Tilly. She looked up from washing clothes and waved at him. He waved back and walked over.

“Miss Tilly, how do you feel about my sister and Arthur?”

She thought about it a moment. “They seem to really like each other, and they get along really well. Ain’t that what matters?” She looked up at Henry. “I’ll support them.”

Henry sighed, “I… if you will, I’ll try to support them as well.” He looked at Tilly. He’d been growing feelings for her for the entire time he’d known her. “Thank you, Tilly, I always enjoy talking to you.” She smiled up at him again.

“You always know where to find me if you want to talk.”

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

Y/N

It was pretty late by the time Arthur got back. You had waited up for him wanting to make sure he would be alright. You sat in front of the fire trying to keep warm. One at a time the men started coming back. First was Sean who you hadn’t even noticed was gone.

He walked up and pretended to bow towards you, “Princess, what an honor to be in your presence.”

“Oh Sean, you make me hate the nickname even more.” You sighed. He chuckled and headed towards the beer. After him, John and Charles seemed to come back at the same time.

Charles nodded at you as he went by. As John passed you yanked his sleeve. “Hey, John?” You asked.

“If it’s about Arthur, he’s on his way still.”

You smiled. “No no, I was just going to ask if you can use that twenty dollars to get somethin’ nice for Abigail or Jack.”

It took him a moment but when he caught on he grinned and patted your head. “Thank you for telling me. I can work on my shocked face.” You pushed his hand away as he walked away laughing.

When you heard the last horse you didn’t move from your spot. You knew who it was.

Arthur came and sat down next to you as you looked into the fire. “So you’re aware what you did today was stupid… right?” He asked slowly.

“Yeah… I am. I’m sorry Arthur.” You sighed and leaned ur head on his shoulder.

You could feel him go stiff from not expecting your sudden affection. He turned your chin softly so you’d look at him.

“Well as long as you know I guess no one has a need to be angry with ya…” he seemed to start leaning closer to you as you stared into his bright blue eyes.

This was it. He was going to kiss you in front of the whole goddamn camp and you weren't stopping him.

“Not in camp.” Dutch yell from behind making Arthur and you suddenly pull away like two teens caught.

Okay… maybe he wasn’t.

You smiled up at Arthur, “Did you get hurt?”

You watched his cheeks turn red. “No, I got away okay.”

You turned around and looked towards Dutch’s tent. He was staring you two down. There were two things you could do at this moment. Wait till even later to kiss Arthur. But you were tired. Or make the camp face the music.

You took a deep breath standing up. Arthur looked at you confused as you faced him. “I’m very glad you came back safe.” You leaned down kissing him smack on the lips. As much as you didn’t want to you pulled back. “Goodnight cowboy.” You turned towards your tent leaving Arthur sitting at the fire with a bright red face.

You heard Javier somewhere in camp go, “Damn it, I just lost twenty dollars.”

#rdr2 #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 fandom #rdr #Rockstar #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x reader #dutch van der linde #john marston #tilly jackson #hosea mathews #writing #write #fanfic

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alexthepartyman · 4 years

Text

Fine Line

Chapter 4: Take me back to the light.

“Easy there, tough guy, have some coffee with your sugar,” Derek teases, grabbing a mug.

“I need something to wake me up.”

“Same. I feel like I’ve slept for five years,” I joke.

“You had brain surgery a couple of weeks ago, it is normal to be tired.” I sigh, rolling my eyes as my phone vibrates against my ass.

“Back pocket,” I groan as Derek pulls my phone out of my pocket. “It’s probably more get well soon wishes.”

“Oooh, you had a late night?” Derek asks, handing me my phone before going back to make coffee.

“Very.”

“My man.” Oooh, it was probably with Grant, too. Oooh. I slowly type, trying to remember how to spell certain words.

“Not that kind of late night.”

“Really? I was rooting for you,” I groan as Derek chuckles.

“Okay, so tell me, what does keep young Dr Reid awake at night? Wait, let me guess. Memorising some obscure textbook. No, no, no, no,” Derek teases. “Working on cold fusion. No, I got it. I got it. I got it. Watching Ster Trek...and laughing at the physics mistakes.”

“Actually, there aren’t that many scientific errors in Star Trek, especially considering how long ago it was made.”

“Did his face just fall?” I ask with a big smile on my face.

“There are certain improbabilities, but not that many outright errors.”

“Right.” I laugh lightly as Derek walks away awkwardly, holding my head in my hand.

“Hey, Morgan?” Spencer asks, following him. I grip my crutches and turn myself, slowly following along. “Uh, do you ever have dreams?”

“I’m sorry?”

“I guess nightmares would be a more accurate description.”

“Is that what’s keeping you up?”

“I used to get them occasionally, but lately it’s like I have them every night.”

“What are they about?”

“This. What we do. Do you have nightmares?”

“When don’t I?” I remark.

“Reid, I’m not sure I’m the right person for you tot alk to about this.”

“Why not?”

“It’s just, uh...did you ask Gideon about it?”

“No.”

“You should. Both of you.”

“Hey, Hotch wants everyone in the round table room.”

“Derek, carry me. I’m not getting anywhere with these things,” I retort as Elle walks away from us.

“Nuh-uh, little buddy. You gotta do it yourself. I ain’t gonna be around to carry you everywhere.”

“Fuck...I take forever!” I groan, stumbling towards the staircase.

“Something up with you three?” Elle asks.

“No.”

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

“McAllister,” JJ says as we head in. “Western slope of Massanutten Mountain in Virginia. Two bodies discovered in the woods, both with apparent bult trauma to the head.”

“Skeletons?”

“Skellingtons?” I ask, approaching the table and looking at the picture in Spencer’s hand.

“One of them. The second victim was just killed this morning.”

“How do we know there’s a connection?” Elle asks.

“Found about seventy-five feet apart with nearly identical head wounds.”

“Where’s the rest of the case file?”

“There isn’t one. The sheriffs are on the scene waiting for us.”

“Their location is only half an hour away by plane.”

“What’s the rush?”

“Well, there was evidence on the scene that could cause a bit of public uproar.”

“Satanic cult.”

“But...killer satanic cults...those don’t exist…”

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

“JJ, we obviously need to keep this out of the press for as long as possible.”

“I’ll do what I can.”

“Why is that so important?”

“There was a nationwide scare in the 1980s involving Satanic ritual killings and abuse. The Satanic panic, it was called. It began after the publication of a book about repressed memories being recovered through hypnotherapy. Memories of growing up with devil worshippers who use children in their rituals and ceremonies.”

“Most of the claims were later found to be false or just impossible.”

“Still, numerous therapists accepted the assertions as true and began searching for similar signs in their own patients. After one year, thousands of people reported the exact same repressed memories.”

“But the bureau conducted an investigation and concluded that most of the ritual killings or abuse were more urban legend than anything else.”

“You’re saying that there’s no such thing as Devil worshipping?”

“Not at all. But most of the Satanism we’ve seen is juveniles damaging property, descerating churches, cemeteries. To my knowledge, there’s never been a proven case of a satanic ritual killing in the United States,” Uncle Jason says.

“Well, maybe there is now.”

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

“Morning. John Bridges,” the sheriff greets us.

“Yeah, we spoke on the phone,” JJ shakes his hand. “I’m Agent Jareau, this is Agent Gideon, Dr Reid, and our intern James Rossi with the FBI’s Behavioural Analysis Unit,” JJ introduces us.

“What’s with your intern?”

“Concussion. Can’t walk on my own yet. Hi.”

“Thanks for coming out so fast, all of you.”

“Yeah, of course.”

“There was an in-service in Charlottesville last year, said if we ran into any unusual homicides, we were supposed to call you folks soonertather then later.”

“They were right.”

“So is this unusual enough?”

“It’s certainly interesting. Is that blood or red paint?” I ask, nodding my head towards the carving in the tree.

“You guys must get a lot of this, huh? Satanic stuff?”

“Not really,” Uncle Jason answers. “Who found the body?”

“Hikers found the first one at the trail, my deputies located this one while searching for evidence. Don’t even know if it’s a man or a woman.”

“It’s a man. The male pelvis is more narrow, and the opening at the bottom is heart-shaped, as opposed to oval,” Spencer rambles. “Melted wax?”

“Candle wax?” JJ asks.

“Candles are used in rituals.”

“Also used on birthday cakes,” Uncle Jason says, watching my feet carefully.

“Actually, they were orginially used to protect the birthday celebrant from demons for the coming year. As a matter of fact, down to the fourth century, Christianity rejected the birthday celebration as a pagan ritual.”

‘What kind of doctor are you?”

“One that knows everything,” I quietly comment.

“Does LOD mean anything to you?”

“I don’t know of any significance in Satanism, either.”

“Well, I’d have Garcia research this LOD thing, if I could get a call out.”

“Not much of a chance of that out here.”

“Are there any cults in the area that you know about? Secret groups? People you see you don’t know much about? People who stay to themselves mostly?”

“This is a very religious area. Church on Sundays, fellowship on Wednesday, bible classes. If there was a secret group, I’d probably know about it.”

“That’s an inherent contradiction,” Spencer chuckles.

“Excuse me?”

“Spencer,” I hiss, picking up the tip of my crutch and stomping his foot with it.

“Ow…”

“He means if there was a group being secretive, you probably wouldn’t know.”

“Look, people out here just want a quiet place to raise their kids. What I know is that none of them are capable of doing this.”

“Rethink that statement,” I comment.

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

“Here you go,” Jason says, setting me back down on the ground after carrying me back up the road.

“Thanks, Uncle Jason.”

“It’s no problem, Jamie.”

“Find anything interesting down there?” Aaron asks.

“Yeah, it does look like some kind of ritual site,” Uncle Jason answers.

“Have any of you ever heard of LOD or the acronym L-O-D?” Spencer asks as Elle helps Spencer up onto the road.

“Not me.”

“Cherish? Cherish? Sheriff Bridges!” A woman yells, being blocked off by an officer behind the yellow tape.

“It’s okay, Harris. Let her in.”

“Was Adam Lloyd killed out here?” She asks, marching up towards us.

“Who told you that?”

“Was he? My daughter was with him. They were out running together this morning. Oh my god, and I can’t find her. Cherish is missing. Cherish is missing! Help me, please.” She starts to cry.

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

“Take her home.”

“I will.”

“Who are we looking for?” I ask as we head back to the team.

“Someone who can overpower our victim, abduct a girl from a traveled path without being seen.”

“A local would know their way around here,” I add.

“It certainly fits with the cult theory. More than one unsub to control multiple victims.”

“But if the attack were ferocious enough...a single unsub could do it too. Kill Adam and grab the girl while she’s still in shock.”

“This is some rough country. I don’t think Jamie could do it right now,” Elle comments, walking back to us with Derek. “We only went a quarter of a mile, and we almost got lost.”

“Jamie was right. The unsub is a local. You don’t just stumble onto a place like this.”

“JJ, where’d the sheriff go?”

“He’s setting up a search party.”

“Tell him I want him to use volunteers from the area.”

“Do you want him to know why?”

“No, not yet.”

“Is it wise to alienate him?”

“Well, he thinks we’re looking for a monster. If we tell him we’re looking for volunteers so we can profile who shows up, he might call the whole thing off.”

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

“State won’t be here for over an hour. We’re not gonna wait. I want you to gather everyone up, and I’m going to assign grid locations.”

“Yes, sir.”

“You have a moment, sheriff?” JJ asks.

“I’ve got a missing girl, a hundred square miles of woods, not enough men, and in a couple of hours, it’s gonna be dark.”

“Have you considered using the people that live in the area?”

“I’m not gonna have civilians messing up the crime scene.”

“We can instruct them not to touch anything until a member of Law Enforcement arrives.”

“What if they get lost, too?”

“We can have them sign into a volunteer sheet and keep track of what grid square they’re in. Look...I grew up in a small town. You have the state police coming in?”

“Yeah.”

“Your locals can do a better job of finding this girl than any statie. Especially in these woods,” I cut in. “You know that.”

“You’ll keep track of them?”

“She’s coordinated searches across the country.” The sheriff nods, and we head towards the vehicles.

“Let’s go. Harris, I’m going downtown. Don’t do anything until I get back.”

“Hey! Can I come with you guys?” Spencer calls out, catching up to us and nearly knocking me over.

“Spencer, I will hit you again,” I threaten.

“Sorry. I need to call Quantico and have them research that whole LOD thing,” he says, stumbling after us.

“Yeah, sure. Hop in.” JJ helps me carefully climb into the back of the truck, and Spencer hops in after me, holding my crutches.

“No bickering, you two,” JJ scolds us both from the shotgun seat. “Sorry, they get along like cats and dogs sometimes.”

“I wanna be the dog,” I whine. “Spencer can be the cat.”

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

JJ helps lift me out of the truck, and I grab my crutches from Spencer.

“What’s happened, John?” A man asks, stopping them and giving me a moment to catch up to them.

“Reverend Paul Burke, this is...I’m sorry, I forgot your names.”

“I’m Agent Jareau, this is Dr Reid and our intern James.”

“They’re with the FBI.”

“FBI? It’s true, then? Adam’s dead?”

“Cherish Hanson’s missing, too.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

“Actually, yes,” the sheriff answers. “We’re putting together a search party. Could you call the congregation?”

“Of course. I’ll go make some calls.”

“Thanks, Reverend. This way.” We follow sheriff Bridges into the station. “You can use any phone you want, Dr Reid, just dial 9 to get an outside line. I’ve got an emergency phone list back here in my office.” I see Spencer wander off to the corkboard, and so I redirect myself to follow.

“Why is there a football?” I ask.

“Did you play ball?” A boy asks, coming up to us, donning a letterman jacket.

“No,” Spencer scoffs.

“You hold that thing right, or I swear to God-” I reach for the football.

“Yeah, I probably wouldn’t have either, if not for my father. I’m Cory.”

“Spencer Reid. This is Jamie, he played.”

“You’re talking about me like I’m dead. I would play, if it wasn’t for these crutches and my three month ban from sports. Who’s that, Nietzsche?” I ask.

“Thus Spake Zarathustra is rather antagonistic of the Judeo-Christian world view for this town, isn’t it?”

“I don’t think too many people here would’ve bothered to read it. If they had, they wouldn’t understand it. Might as well be a Hawking essay on quark theory.”

“People don’t typically read Nietzsche.” I look to Spencer, who laughs to himself.

“Hey, nobody ever got that reference before. Is my father around? The sheriff?”

“He’s in his office with another agent.”

Agent? Hey, uh, Jamie. Why don’t you sit down? You should give that leg a rest,” Cory says, pulling out the closest chair.

“Leg? Am I…” I look down at my legs. “I’m limping again, aren’t I?”

“I didn’t notice. We’re with the FBI, the Behavioural Analysis Unit.”

“Profilers?” We both nod. “This is mad cool. I got, like a hundred questions I go...wait. Why would FBI profilers be here in McAllister?”

“There was a murder outside of town on the mountain,” Spencer explains.

“A murder?”

“And a girl’s missing.”

“It’s Cherish, son.”

“Cherish Hanson?”

“We’re putting together a search party. I need you to get the rest of the team together and meet us out at the trail about half a mile south of the point.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Spencer, can you get me my drink out of my bag, please? Thank you.” Spencer hands me a bottle of Mountain Dew, and I screw open the bottle and gulp it down.

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

“Man, this is one Peyton place of a town.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask.

“Most everyone lives well above the median income of the country. You have doctors, lawyers...one guy owns a bunch of shoe stores up and down the Eastern seaboard.”

“Is he married?”

“Yep. Story of my life, sunshine. Reverend Paul Burke, looks like he became born again in prison.”

“Love that. What was he in for?” I ask.

“Yeah. Two years as a guest of the state of Ohio for embezzlement.”

“JJ, what’s embezzlement?” I ask.

“It’s when people steal money from their jobs.”

“I’m seeing a lot of tax sheltering and various hanky-panky here, but I’m not sure what would suggest potential Satanic cult members. Hold on.”

“You got something?”

“Yeah. I got a guy with a ton of debts, spotty work history, his house is in foreclosure. He’s got a record, too. Assault with a deadly weapon three years ago.”

“Wait, does it say what the weapon was?” JJ asks.

“Baseball bat.”

“Our unsub used a blunt object.”

“Bats are blunt, aren’t they?” I ask.

“What’s this guy’s name?”

“Dent. Henry Dent.”

“Apt name.”

“Jamie, where is he on the list?”

I look over the list of names, quickly finding it. “Grid B-5. That puts him with...Elle. JJ? Should we let her know?”

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

Spencer yawns. “Tired?” Aaron asks.

“I’m fine.”

“We all get them sometimes.”

“Get what?”

“Nightmares.”

Spencer looks straight at me. “I didn’t say anything,” I recount.

“It’s not that bad.”

“If you want to talk about it, you know where I am.” We watch Aaron walk away from us.

“Uh, they’re ready,” JJ says.

“Okay.” I look to the crowd gathering near one end of the station. Wait, when did they start showing up? What?

“When did they show up?”

“Why don’t you catch another nap, we have to deliver the profile.”

“Hell no, I’m not napping right now.”

“Contrary to popular belief,” Aaron begins, “there has never been a proven case of Satanic ritual killing. Never a verified human sacrifice. Having said that, there have been isolated cases of animal sacrifice…and many, many cases of vandalism in the name of Satan.”

“Now, that doesn’t mean that ritual satanism is impossible,” Derek adds. “More importantly, for our purposes, there have been cults that killed, just not in ritual fashion.”

“The Reverend Jim Jones and the Peoples Temple...his followers killed a US congressman and three people before committing mass suicide, leaving over nine hundred people dead.”

“This also happened with the Order of the Solar Temple and Heaven’s Gate, and perhaps the most notorious of the killer cults, the Manson family, they, uh, killed nine people in a four day period in an attempt to initiate a race war,” I cut in, getting up from my chair and onto my crutches.

“Killer cults do exist, and they all have one thing in common. Invariably, they’re headed by charismatic megalomaniacs.”

“You’re looking for that leader. He’s who will stand out. He’ll be memorable to somebody, people who aren’t in his group will see him as strange, weird, scary.”

“Since we’re dealing with professed Satanists, which is often practiced by younger males, we may be looking for teenagers. Heavy metal music is often associated with satanism, and these kids and their leader may reflect that in their look.”

“Most likely, there’ll be sex, drugs, and alcohol. Now, the leader, he’ll be older. It’s part of his charm.”

“And he is from this area. He’s definitely local. These woods are too thick and confusing for a visitor to get around in.”

“You think one of our own people is doing this?” An officer asks.

“I believe that anything is possible,” I simply answer.

“I would know if someone was capable of doing -”

“Dad. I know somebody like that,” Cory says.

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

“His name’s Mike Zizzo. He graduated about five years ago. He’s in his twenties, but he still hangs out with high school kids. He’s got a group of them. They follow him everywhere. They all get high and listen to heavy metal. He calls them the Lords of Destruction.”

“LOD,” Spencer and I say in unison before staring at each other.

“How do you know this, Cory?” Silence. “It’s alright, son.”

“I’ve been there, where they hang out drinking beers. He talks about Satan all the time. Says he’s the one true God.”

“Where is this place?” Uncle Jason asks.

“On the other side of the mountain. The old Jenson house.”

“It’s out of my jurisdiction.”

“Not ours. We’re federal.” I look up to see Spencer, Jason, and Aaron get ready to leave.

“I’m sorry, Dad.”

“It’s okay to let loose once in a while, Cory,” I say.

“It’s alright, son,” the reverend says, and I walk myself out of the office and station, seeing the team load up into the SUVs. Uncle Jason stands outside of one, and I head over as fast as I can.

“What’s going on?” I ask, turning to where Uncle Jason is looking, a girl stands on the other side of the road, staring at us. She watches the SUVs drive off, lights blaring, and I turn my attention back to find Uncle Jason crossing the road to get to her. God, what is with you people? Move slower, all of you! Fucking assholes.

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

I look around and inwardly groan at the fact that I had followed Jason into a church. Of all the fucking places? A church? He unwraps his scarf from around his neck and sits in the front pew, next to a silent girl. Ignore the pain, ignore the pain.

“Do you believe in God?” She asks, I stop next to the pew behind them, gulping and ignoring the sharp pains in my chest.

“Excuse me?”

“Do you believe in God?” She asks again.

“Yes.”

“How about the Devil?” I look away, taking in how red the interior of the church is. Why is it so red in here? “You’re one of the FBI agents, aren’t you?”

“Is there something you want to tell me?”

“Do you think God is vengeful?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t think he punishes us?” Well, I have a lot of reasons to be punished, if that was the case.

“After Hurricane Katrina, I read some essays by religious scholars. One writer said God was punishing America for its immorality. New Orleans was a wicked city, like Sodom and Gomorrah. Another one, a priest from New Orleans, he thought the hurricane was proof of God’s love.” Sure, show them you love them by killing them. Nothing like sending a fucking hurricane to prove your undying love. “Those levees didn’t break until after the storm was over. If they’d broken sooner, thousands would’ve died. So...I guess the answer to your question depends on whether or not you think you have something to be punished for.” Uncle Jason looks past her and right at me. I hate you so much.

“My friend Cherish...she’s missing. And it’s my fault. The skeleton under the tree, he died a year ago. He fell off the trail, cracked his head open. He was just some tourist or something.”

“How do you know that?”

“We went to see the body all the time. We watched it decompose.”

“Who did?”

“We did. Everybody, the whole group. At first, we were just curious, you know? We’d go, a couple of us at a time, show each other. None of us had ever seen a dead body before. And then it kind of became our thing.” Uncle Jason nods along. “Something we had that our parents didn’t know about. It was ours.”

“This was a human being.”

“I told you that we’re being punished.”

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

“I’ve been with Brandi Dreifort. Do you know her?”

“Yeah. She’s a friend of my son’s.”

“She’s a friend of Cherish’s, too.”

“And?”

“They all knew about that skeleton,” I cut in.

“Who did?” Sheriff Bridges asks.

“The kids. Football team, cheerleaders, everyone. They all watched him decompose...like a game…”

“What?” Elle aks.

“Far as I can tell, the only kids in the area who didn’t know were Mike Zizzo and the LOD.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Sounds impossible, it’s unbelievable, but she told Jason all about it. Guy was a...a hiker. He’s probably listed, missing person somewhere…”

“How do you know the LOD wasn’t involved?”

“She said the pentagram and the candles, they weren’t there a few months ago.”

“Which means?”

“Someone’s framing the LOD. Somebody wanted us to believe there were Satanists here.” I answer.

“Jamie, you should sit down. You’ve been up a while-”

“No, no, no, I got more. Unsubs like to...insert themselves into investigations. Who gave us the LOD? Who gave us Zizzo?”

“You’re talking about Cory?”

“Con...con...convin...convien…”

“It was convienent, wasn’t it? Lucky we had a kid right in the room who could tell us where the LOD was. A group of fringe kids nobody in the town would like.”

“But-”

“You called us here to advise you. My advice would be to get in front of this before yourson hurts himself or anybody else. You know where he is, Sheriff?”

“He went up to the Jenson house to see if your guys found anything on Cherish.”

“Morgan and Reid are out there right now.”

“Hey, Sheriff. DId you open the gun locker?” An officer asks.

“No.”

“Someone did. There’s a revolver missing.”

“Cory,” I solemnly answer.

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

I stare at Spencer, who just zones off at the wall behind me. “Stop staring at me, Spencer,” I whine. “I can’t exactly go anywhere without the damn crutches.”

“Reid,” Uncle Jason says, bringing the beanpole’s attention back to reality. “Deborah Louise Addison. Her husband Tim. The kids are Amber and Kieth. Eight and six. In 1985, Deborah Louise was walking home from school. She was abducted. She was thirteen. We profiled the unsub, and we were able to locate her before he harmed her. She writes a letter to the BAU every year. She updates us on her life.”

“It’s nice, but -”

“We all have bad dreams. Everyone on the plane. Even Jamie. Jamie, do you remember that one recurring dream where Hotch’s neighbour killed you and your dog?”

“No?”

“Who wouldn’t have nightmares? We hunt the worst of humanity, we see the depths of depravity, we dream of monsters…”

“Inmy dream, there’s a baby in the middle fo a circle and there’s someone on the other side. And I can’t get to her before…”

“Every night I look at Deborah, helps me go to sleep thinking of the victims we’ve saved. We don’t always beat the monsters to the babies, but we do enough to make the job worth it, keep the nightmares bearable. Jamie, you should catch some sleep before we land. I’ll take you straight home to your dad.” I nod and lay my head down in his lap, staring at blurry pictures of my friends from the last play we were in.

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

“Your show sounds lovely. I’m sure if you tell Jordan how much you want to be in the show, then he’ll find a way for you to be in it,” Jason advises as he pulls into my dad’s mansion driveway, driving me up to the front door.

“Jason? What if nothing ever goes back to the way it was?” I ask. “What if I’m stuck on these stupid crutches forever? I’d have to rethink everything-”

“We’ll take it a day at a time, remember?” He cuts me off immediately. “I’ve known you all your life. You have tendencies to over worry about things. It’s going to work out okay.”

“Will it? I can’t go back into school until next semester, I lost my hair again, I lost all of my activities. I can’t even watch music videos without getting a massive headache. All I want to do is everything I’m not allowed to do! It’s so fuck-”

“Don’t. Your fracture is still healing.”

“I can’t even get my anger out, cause I’m not allowed to box or wrestle! Fuck this!”

“Jamie, Jamie. I need you to look at me right now.” Jason rotates my head towards him. “You’re allowed to be mad about this. You are a fighter. You overcame a cancer scare, numerous spinal injuries and concussions. Your conditions don’t hold you back. Just because you’re going through a set back doesn’t mean it’s time to give up. Come on, I’ll walk you in and put you to bed if you want.” Jason climbs out of the drivers’ seat and rounds the front to help me onto my feet and position my crutches so I can use them. “I think you worked yourself too hard, and you should rest some more.” I groan in pain, wincing at the throbbing in my head.

“Headache?” I nod weakly.

“Here, I can carry you in,” Uncle Jason offers, swinging an arm under my knees and sweeping me into his arms with a groan. “You’re getting too big for me to carry you.”

“Mio bel ragazzo,” I hear Dad exclaim from up ahead.

“Dad,” I quietly answer back with a smile.

“He tired himself out. Headache right now, Spencer almost tripped him a few times.” I hear Dad groan as a door closes, and dogs start barking. “Oscar, Mudgie, down,” Dad commands. “Go put him in bed, I’ll get his medication ready.” I nuzzle my head into Jason’s warm chest and whine, scrunching my face as the throbbing gets worse.

“I know, I know. You’ll be in bed soon.” It feels like a lifetime before I feel my mattress dipping under me, my soft covers enveloping me. “There. Your dad’s gonna be up soon.” I hear a dog whine as I bury my head into the bed. “Here you go, Oscar. Cuddle up nice and tight, will you? Here’s your blankie and your turtle.” I make my grabbie hands as the items are handed to me, Jason wraps me in my favourite bright green blanket and puts my turtle into my arms. I nestle my head into the crook of the turtle’s neck, squeezing it tightly against my chest. Rough fingers run gently through my hair as I feel a small dog walking up and starting to lick my neck.

“Oscar…” I whine. Jason chuckles as my pup moves to lay on my stomach.

“Goodnight, Jamie. Your dad’s here now.”

“Daddy…” I mumble, pouting my chapped lip.

“Here, it’s time for your meds,” Dad whispers, gently helping make sure I don’t choke on pills or water. “There you go. That’s my boy.” I smile, breathing deeply and gently opening my eyes as Dad plays with my hair. “You must have tired yourself out, huh?”

“Daddy...stay…” I reach out, grabbing his rough yet gentle hand.

“Of course. Anything for you, ragazzo.” My other hand rests on Oscar’s soft curly hair, my thumb gently cascading the soft, gentle skin. “Sssh, it’s okay. You can sleep now. I won’t go.”

“Hol...hol...hol me…” I murmur.

“You want me in bed with you?”

I gently nod.

“Okay. I’ll be right back, I just have to get ready for bed. Don’t wait up for me, okay? Ti amo.”

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creepingsharia · 4 years

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Saudi Muslim kills 3, wounds 8 in shooting at Naval Air Station Pensacola in Florida

Mohammed Saeed Alshamrani was shot dead but not before killing 3 and wounding 8 others.

PENSACOLA, Fla. — A Saudi man training at the Naval Air Station Pensacola opened fire on the base early Friday morning with a handgun, killing three and injuring eight before deputies fatally shot him, authorities said.

President Donald Trump, who spoke with King Salman of Saudi Arabia shortly after the shooting, said the monarch called the attack "barbaric."

The shooter was identified as Mohammed Saeed Alshamrani, a member of the Saudi military, a U.S. Defense official told USA TODAY. The official wasn’t authorized to discuss the matter publicly and spoke on condition of anonymity. A motive for the attack is unknown.

Alshamrani was one of 852 Saudi nationals in the United States training under the Pentagon’s security cooperation agreement with the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia, according the Defense official. Alshamrani, began his three-year course in August 2017 with English, basic aviation and initial pilot training.

The shooting began around 6:30 a.m. CT and the suspect was halted by two Escambia County sheriff's deputies, who arrived on scene in less than five minutes, Sheriff David Morgan said. One of the deputies fatally shot the gunman, he said.

An official who was not authorized to speak publicly told USA TODAY that the Saudi national did not use his military-issued service weapon.

One of the officers was shot in arm and treated at a local hospital. The other was shot in the knee and was undergoing surgery. Authorities expected both to survive. The shooting happened on two floors of the building.

"The best of our community was on scene today and that's why it turned out the way it did," Morgan said of the deputies who responded. "They ran to the fight, not from the fight."

Morgan said his deputies train regularly with base personnel for the type of attack that they encountered.

Defense Secretary Mark Esper said he and others are watching the situation closely.

"I've spoken with the Secretary of the Navy, and Deputy Secretary (David) Norquist and am considering several steps to ensure the security of our military installations and the safety of our service members and their families," Esper said. "I'm grateful for the heroism of the first responders and law enforcement who helped confront both situations and kept further loss of life from occurring."

The FBI has taken the lead in the investigation, though there has been no immediate determination on whether the shooting was terror related, two sources told USA TODAY.

The shooting was the second in a week at a U.S. Navy base.

Navy Adm. Mike Gilday, chief of naval operations, said it has been "a devastating week for our Navy family."

"Our hearts break for those who lost their lives in Pensacola and the wrenching pain it causes their loved ones," he said. "When tragedy hits, as it did today, and Wednesday in Pearl Harbor, it is felt by all."

Like most military installations, personal firearms are not normally permitted on the base, which provides a wide variety of training to both U.S. and international aviators, dating back to the British Royal Air Force during WWII.

The Pensacola base is also home of the Blue Angels, the Navy's Flight Demonstration Squadron, and the National Naval Aviation Museum. Located in the far western Panhandle, the base employs more than 16,000 military and 7,400 civilian personnel.

Florida Gov. Ron DeSantis, a Navy veteran, asked all Americans to remember the dead and wounded, along with their families: "They need your prayers and they need your comfort."

Eight patients, including the deputies, were taken to nearby Baptist Hospital. One of the victims died at the hospital, and two died on the base. The shooter also died on the base. The names of the victims will not be released until the next of kin have been notified, authorities said.

"Walking through the crime scene was like being on the set of a movie," Morgan said. "This doesn't happen in Escambia County. This doesn’t happen in Pensacola . . . So now we’re here to pick up the pieces."

The shooter was in aviation training at the base, along with "several hundred" other international airmen, authorities said. DeSantis said the shooter's nationality will complicate the investigation.

"Obviously, the government of Saudi Arabia needs to make things better for these victims," DeSantis said in a press conference. "They’re going to owe a debt here."

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

Is it not past time to end training foreign Muslims on U.S. soil at taxpayer expense? Is this an America First policy?

via In the 2018 fiscal year, the U.S. trained 1,753 Saudi military members at an estimated cost of $120,903,786, according to DoD records.

In the 2018 fiscal year, some 62,700 foreign military students from 155 countries participated in U.S.-run training, the total cost of which was approximately $776.3 million, according to DoD records.

Among them is a contingent Saudis who recently arrived at Naval Air Station Pensacola.

In recent weeks, 18 naval aviators and two aircrew members from the Royal Saudi Naval Forces were training with the U.S. Navy, including a stint at Pensacola, according to a November 15 press release from the Navy.

It was not clear if the suspected shooter was part of that delegation.

The delegation came under a Navy program that offers training to U.S. allies, known as the Naval Education and Training Security Assistance Field Activity.

A person familiar with the program said that Saudi Air Force officers selected for military training in the United States are intensely vetted by both countries.

The Saudi personnel are 'hand-picked' by their military and often come from elite families, the person said, speaking on condition of anonymity because they did not have permission to speak to a reporter. Trainees must speak excellent English, the person said.

Saudi Arabia's embassy in Washington did not respond to questions.

Saudi Arabia, a major purchaser of U.S. arms, accounts for a massive portion of America's spending on foreign military training.

In the 2018 fiscal year, the U.S. trained 1,753 Saudi military members at an estimated cost of $120,903,786, according to DoD records.

For fiscal year 2019, the State Department planned to train roughly 3,150 Saudis in the U.S.

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

One Florida Senator has requested a review - but is it just reactionary posturing? via Twitter:

DEVELOPING: Sen. Rick Scott has called for a review of military programs for foreign nationals, saying he is "extremely concerned" about the military training foreign nationals following today's shooting that left four people dead at Pensacola Naval Air Base in Florida - The Hill

#Jihad #Islam #Muslim #Sharia #Immigration #Military #News #Politics #Travel #Legal #Terror #FBI

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new-mount-pleasant-nc-blog · 4 years

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Events

There are many interesting things to do in Mount Pleasant, NC area. Every visitor can just have a tour around the city and enjoy different tourist spots. However, it is also highly recommended to check amazing pre-scheduled events there. The first event to happen next year that has something to do with travel is the Trek Travel Night at Trek Bicycle Store of Mt. Pleasant. Interestingly, the activity will start at around 6:30 pm. It is a free event to be held this coming January 21, 2020. The next one is Affirmative Action Planning Seminar - February 6 -7 - Charleston, SC area.

One of the essential services offered by Well Doctor is well pump installation, repair and replacement. Although it takes time to do all these things, depending on the situation, you'll need to trust the professionals. After all, they have been working these types of jobs for more than 25 years. Basically, they can help you determine the type of pump that you'll need at home. In addition, their experts have a plethora of knowledge relating to wells. Lastly, they will consider the depth of the well, what type of budget you are working with and the level of maintenance that will be required when determining what type of pump to install. It's truly magnificent!

Polk sheriff’s office makes meth bust

The necessity of meth bust operations these days is notable. There are many people who are already affected with this type of prohibited drug. No wonder government officials are trying to do something to eradicate the problem in the society. Lately, Polk sheriff’s office made meth bust and it is all over the news. According to the report, Andrew Lee Morgan was arrested and charged with felony maintaining a vehicle or dwelling or place for a controlled substance; felony possession with intent to sell and deliver methamphetamine; two counts of felony trafficking methamphetamine; felony possession of a firearm by a felon; carrying a concealed weapon and possession of drug paraphernalia. Lastly, he was being held under $188k bond.

Smiths Lake in Mount Pleasant, NC

One of the interesting tourist spots in Mount Pleasant, NC is Smiths Lake. The marvelous body of water has attracted a lot of fans from around the world. Since it is naturally beautiful, you can enjoy sightseeing there especially during weekends. Nowadays, everyone is welcome to visit Smith Lake. It is a quaint little farm located outside Mount Pleasant North Carolina. Even though it is a working farm, cultivating thousands of acres of prime quality hay, it offers so much more, not only to the locals but also to tourist. Lastly, you can enjoy horseback riding, benefit rides, fishing, picnic and more.

These days, many people find it hard to trust well pump installation and repair companies. In most cases, they face issues in seeking follow-up from those workers in case there are problems along the way. Luckily, Well Doctor is present in Mount Pleasant, NC area. After all, it is easier to ask for their help in times of emergency. Basically, you can count on their well repair service experts. Due to their expertise in doing the job, you can save time and money most of the time. Lastly, they want to make the experience as hassle-free as possible so that you can focus on your important tasks of the day.

Link to Map

Smith Lake Flyers 6241 Smith Lake Rd, Mt Pleasant, NC 28124, United States

Head northeast on Smith Lake Rd toward Barrier Store Rd 0.5 mi

Turn left onto Barrier Store Rd 3.2 mi

Slight right onto Mt Pleasant Rd S 1.7 mi

Continue onto S Main St 0.5 mi

Turn left onto W Franklin St Destination will be on the left 243 ft

Well Doctor LLC 8346 W Franklin St, Mt Pleasant, NC 28124, United States

#well repair concord nc #well repair charlotte nc #well pump repair charlotte nc

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mtraki · 5 years

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(Warning: Little bit of [terrible] smut in this one... Also I don't have any personal grievance with the Catholic church, nor is my intention to offend!)

Storms had been building on the horizon for weeks.

They rolled through slow and continuous, one after another, and the thunder growled out across the dry lands, even though above the desert basin the sky remained bright blue and virtually cloudless.

At night, Catherine watched the lightning flicker. Sometimes the girls would join her-- usually Tilly or Jenny. Sean would join them if Karen was there, and they’d share drinks and jokes. Arthur and Charles would smoke in deep contemplation, eyes fixed on the flashing horizon, but only long enough for one cigarette.

“You’d best get some sleep,” Arthur warned her, flicking the butt of his into the dirt before scuffing it out with his boot, “Hosea’s got us ridin’ into Tumbleweed to check in on his ‘friend’, Mister Graff.”

Hosea often had them riding out to follow up on his leads. Catherine was there as her ‘father’s’ representative, and Arthur was Hosea’s favorite choice for her guardian as he was more obviously physically capable at first glance than either John or Javier, and Dutch had Charles running another job. Catherine suspected the old man was stirring up trouble after their talk about how he thought Arthur was in love with her. If Mister Morgan suspected anything, he didn’t share his thoughts with her. Altogether, he was behaving much more aloof, and Catherine was certain Dutch’s recent behavior had much to do with it. If not everything.

“I remember. I’ll be ready.”

“Maybe bring a change of clothes this time?” He teased, corner of his mouth twisting ruefully, “Don’ want t’be delayed on account of rain.”

“I suppose that would be best for both of us, then. Goodnight, Mister Morgan.” She smiled back warmly.

He avoided looking her in the face and instead turned away, heading for his tent, “‘Night, Miss Schofield.”

It twisted in her guts like a sharp piece of metal, and she wasn’t sure exactly why. At least this new arrangement suited Dutch’s sensitive pride better, it seemed, and so Catherine took it upon herself to bear it with quiet dignity. As well as treat Dutch with the same cool aloofness. She spent her nights with the other women, and did not entertain any of the outlaw’s flattery.

Lenny was having better luck. He’d convinced Miss Kirk to ride out with him to try and shake out a lead somewhere. Catherine found it decidedly encouraging that they were not back yet. If any man in this world could treat Jenny right, it was surely Mister Summers. His youth and inexperience were strengths in this regard, because he was open to education, which Jenny could surely provide if she only gave him the chance…

With a sigh, Miss Schofield turned to retreat to her spot, settled between Tilly and Mary-Beth under the canvas, the lightning still flickering on the horizon behind her.

They left early in the morning, and ate a light breakfast in the saddle. Arthur was particularly withdrawn and taciturn, and the lady suspected he hadn’t rested well. Or maybe Dutch had made a point to chap his hide over their being alone together? She didn’t ask, and he didn’t say.

Likely, the outlaw was determined to make it a long, quiet ride. She let him, for about an hour and a half, but then her patience was exhausted and she began to make conversation, refusing to become discouraged by his resistance. In the end, he was helpless before her. She was too well-trained in the arts of social discourse, and he was not nearly skilled or stubborn enough to resist her efforts.

He’d spent twenty years learning all the best ways to rob, threaten, and kill people. She’d spent nearly that long perfecting how to charm them.

Arthur soon warmed to the conversation, and with Dutch and the rest of the camp so far behind them, relaxed into their former camaraderie. As ever, it took a bit of work and encouragement to turn his thoughts and words from the immediate and practical, towards something they could both muse over. Presently, they’d stumbled into a discussion about justice and capital punishment.

“You know I don’ flinch away from killin’ at all, Miss Schofield. Folks that need killin’ should be killed.”

“So you are for judicial, summary execution, as it stands now?”

“Well…” He laughed a bit, his humor dark-- as it often was, “I much prefer dispensation with a bullet instead of a rope.”

“‘Dispensation’ is a good word, I approve.” She grinned at him, “But you must accept that a rope is altogether more economical.”

“What are you talking about-- bullets come mighty cheap--”

“--Bullets, sure, but to keep a gun in killing condition, for the number of executions a sheriff or other authority might need to dispense… These costs rack up swiftly as opposed to acquiring a rope which can be reused…”

Arthur shrugged, “Sure, but you was talkin’ justice, not economics. You want death on the cheap, jus’ cut out the throat or drown’ ‘em in a trough, or hell, just beat 'em t’death…”

Making a thoughtful sound, brow furrowing, Catherine said, “So you contend that shooting a man is more just than hanging him?”

“You been to many hangin’s, Miss?”

“No. I never understood the entertainment in watching someone die-- deserved or otherwise.”

“--That’s a different discussion altogether, but I’ve seen a good number of hangings. Civil and… outside the law proper. Ain’t none of ‘em just from where I was standin’. It’s a bad death, even if the end of the rope kills quick-- an’ it don’t always.”

“... From my… limited study… the mode of execution is the severing of the spine-- the force breaks the victim’s neck. I’ve heard that sometimes this doesn’t happen and the victim strangles to death.”

“Your limited study bein’ readin’ about it?”

“Mostly, though some of my peers back home have a grotesque fascination with the subject of execution and attend them as frequently as garden parties.”

“Your books and rich, fancy gawkers ever talk about what it’s like to watch a man kick his legs while he spins helpless at the end of a rope, jerking up and down, before he starts seizing up? Or how he looses his bowels in front of the crowd jeering for his blood before he blacks out?”

Catherine looked at him to find he was looking at her. Though his mouth was in a firm line, none of his displeasure was directed at her-- he didn’t blame her for her ignorance on the matter, he was simply trying to teach her, and express his point of view. He wanted her to understand.

If only Dutch talked to her this way… things could be so different. So much better…

“Alright, Arthur,” She said with a nod, “you’ve made your case against the noose. Now explain how a bullet is better. Death by firing squad was conceived very specifically in the military to diffuse the blood guilt. So now we’d need five guns and bullets and men of courage with steady aim…?”

The outlaw snorted, “Or just one.”

“Not many men in this world can carry the burden of a hundred or more deaths, Arthur.” “No,” He agreed, “Fortunately sheriffs are elected in an’ out, ain’t they? After their term of service, they can retire quiet-like someplace.”

“Even besides the shooter, there’s the crowd to think of. You mentioned the indignity of a victim loosing their bowels, what about the horror of flesh and bone being ripped apart by a gunshot?”

“I thought the point was to make an example…” He raised both eyebrows at her, as if surprised she didn’t understand this basic premise.

Scoffing, Catherine shook her head, “If it is, then we aren’t talking about justice at all, and I stand even more firmly in my position against the supposed moral and legal superiority of capital punishment.”

“So no hangin’s or shootin’s? Whatchu gonna do with rotten folk like us, then? Lock us up?” Arthur laughed.

“Educate you.” She said frankly, looking him dead in the face so that he sobered and knit his brow together.

“Educate us…? You want to educate the killers and thieves and rapers?”

“That should be the burden of the government, should it not? Look at yourself, and most folks in the gang! It’s a question of why you’re killers and thieves! Surely if you had been taught necessary skills with which to integrate into society you wouldn’t feel like you’d been rejected by it like so much refuse--”

“--You know, I don’ much follow news like this,” Arthur interjected suddenly, “but I heard tell the government is doin’ something like that very thing with the native peoples they’d rounded up. The tribes. Takin’ their kids an’ puttin’ them in these schools to teach ‘em how to be ‘American’ an’ ‘acceptable-like’…”

Under his clever, pointed look, Catherine blushed, torn between embarrassment at her dangerous ignorance, genuine pleasure that he’d challenged her, and a small sense of pride in knowing it was her influence that had engendered this willingness to engage in a tête-à-tête at all.

“...There’s a marked difference between educating and equipping the poor in one’s own culture… and destroying the culture of another people. I’m not suggesting education can cure all the sins of man’s collective black heart, Mister Morgan, but I am suggesting that it’s clear that the current system only benefits the select few-- the rich. For it is the poor who are turning to crime to satisfy their needs, and the poor who are summarily executed for it. Yet we call it justice and tell ourselves we’re doing very well.”

Arthur shook his head, “Some folks are jus’ evil, Miss Catherine.”

“Yes, but unless everyone has their needs fulfilled, we’ll never be able to tell the evil from the simply desperate. The way they tell it, only God Himself has that power.”

“I suppose the Reverend might agree we ought to leave justice in the hands of the Almighty…” remarked the outlaw dryly, “but I expect not much’ll get done either way…”

This led to a discussion about the failings of the good Reverend as an individual, and the Catholic Church as an institution. This more serious conversation quickly devolved into the trading of off-color jokes and humorous stories. Arthur’s humor was dry and dark as the tomb, but it was his sense of timing that threatened some inelegant, unladylike laughter out of Catherine. Though she had little talent in entertainment, for her part, the lady had a small but efficient repertoire at her disposal, and soon discovered how much she liked hearing Arthur laugh unrestrained until he wheezed for breath. She determined then and there to acquire greater skill in humor.

It was then the arroyo opened around them, and Tumbleweed greeted them, starting with the chapel to their right, which caused them to shoot each other half-guilty, half-smirking looks. But it was the tree standing in the graveyard that drew Catherine’s attention and held it.

The thing was dead, as it had been the last time she’d seen it some weeks ago, but now half was torn away, broken off and lying at an awkward angle on the ground amidst shattered bits of branches.

“What in the world..?” She murmured stunned and intrigued. Never in her life had she seen anything like it.

Arthur had, it seemed, for his tone, though interested, lacked the note of naked shock hers held, “Lightning.”

“Really!”

Smiling at her, he nodded, “Yes’m. That’s lightning for sure.”

Dismounting, Catherine could hardly stop herself from approaching the ruined tree, unconcerned with how Woden snorted and trotted toward the water trough in front of the saloon where he would be certain to drench the entire length of his reins getting a drink. Chuckling quietly-- either at the horse, his rider, or both together-- the big outlaw dismounted as well, though his steed was well-behaved enough to stay where he’d been left on the side of the road. All of it barely registered, the lady was fixated by the appearance of the tree and entirely engrossed in trying to piece together exactly how the lightning had done this.

“... I’m certain we haven’t seen any storms this close…” She murmured.

“Mhm…” Was Arthur’s quiet acknowledgement over the scratching of his pencil on paper. He was in his journal-- sketching the image in front of them, she was sure of it. He’d never shared his drawings with her, and she’d never been so bold as to pry-- not with how quick he was to tuck away the journal any time her eyes rested on it longer than a moment.

Her curiosity gave her an infamous reputation in many respects among those in the camp.

“Does lightning really travel that far from its source?” She wondered aloud, instead, “...And isn’t it supposed to strike the tallest structure-- that church steeple is much taller! Besides, I don’t see any scorch marks, do you?”

Arthur was chuckling again, low in his broad chest, “Miss Schofield, if you don’ believe me it was lightnin’, you can come out an’ say so, plain…”

“It’s not that,” Was her quick amendment, “You’ve seen it before, so I must acknowledge your greater experience in the matter… it’s just… the evidence here seems to contradict so many things I understood about the nature of lightning!”

Snapping closed his journal, Arthur’s eyes were on Catherine’s face-- she could feel the weight of his gaze-- and his smile was warm, but there was teasing in his eyes when she turned her head to meet his look, “‘Things’? Like thunderbolts bein’ thrown down from Olympus by Zeus?”

“That would be a myth, Arthur, not a theory backed by scientific data documented in books,” She rolled her eyes, and he laughed.

“What about ‘lightning don’ strike the same place twice’?”

Blinking at him, she frowned, “You mean that’s not true? The odds seem mathematically very slim.”

“I dunno about mathematics, an’ I’m pretty good with odds, but--” He stopped suddenly, a strange expression crossing his face. Catherine didn’t bother asking, she sensed it too, just for a moment: a strange smell in the air-- sharp and acrid on the tongue, and a queer sensation over her skin that raised the hair at the nape of her neck and tickled at the thin hairs on her arms.

It lasted only a moment-- in the same moment she saw Arthur lunge for her-- and then everything exploded in white hot light flanked in boiling red, and they were thrown to their knees, shouting their shared alarm. Slim gave a piercing whinny, the stout warhorse was unmoved by most threats, but this terrible explosion frightened him all the same. The air around them seemed to tremble with the echo of a terrible, earth-shaking roar, and the lady wondered if she’d ever hear again as it reverberated in her ears and through every bone in her head enough to send her entire body trembling.

She was not alone. Once her vision bled back from the blinding flare of light, she saw Arthur, hatless, on his hands and knees nearby, shaking as well. She could not hear him yet, but his mouth shaped words she knew to be vehement curses before his eyes turned toward her, worry chasing shock over his features.

But her eyes went to the tree, where flames licked the sky.

“Je-- Go--... Shit…” Arthur whispered, and Catherine started to laugh, knowing what he’d started to say and why he hadn’t said it.

Arthur Morgan, infamous outlaw, thief, and killer, was afraid to blaspheme the Name of the Lord here in front of the church and this tree that had been-- against all odds-- struck by lightning twice. For all his teasing of her just a moment ago, Arthur apparently believed-- at least in this moment, at least a little-- the God of Abraham might strike down sinners with lightning from Heaven, should they incite his anger.

Stranger still, she could think of no reason, in this moment, to contradict him. Her laughter softened, but turned all the more hysterical as she felt his trembling hands take her shoulders.

“... Catherine…?”

She couldn’t stop laughing long enough to assure him she was unhurt, despite the quaking of her bones, and when she met his look, she understood that where the white-hot light had seared through her with terrible shock and amazement, it had set him ablaze on the inside.

He was concerned for her, certainly, but just behind that concern--chasing like a hound on the heels of a hare--was something hot and desperate. She reasoned she understood: though he was a man who’d faced death countless times, it was rare indeed to face death ordained by the Heavens themselves-- and see it thwarted somehow.

Insane odds and a more pressingly desperate, mortal, desire to survive had reshifted priorities in Arthur Morgan’s mind, perhaps? He wanted her-- had wanted her for a long time. Until now, he’d been willing to deny himself for the hundreds of reasons piled up inside and around him, perhaps forever.

But now… now after facing the wrath and judgement of the Almighty...

Perhaps not so long, after all? Time was short. Life was brutal and fleeting.

Still gripped by the mad giddiness that caused laughter to spill from her lips, Catherine brought up her hands and traced both sides of his unshaven jawline with trembling fingertips, and watched as something dark and hungry framed the heat in his eyes at her touch. In a rush, one of his hands moved from her shoulder to the side of her head, fingers threading into her dark hair, half-undone from its chignon, and dragged her in to meet his rushed, exhilarated kiss.

Shock chased up her spine immediately. Not because he’d kissed her, but for fear that someone might see them. Tumbleweed was a small town, and the lightning and fire would certainly draw a crowd at any moment. How long would it take for their lack of restraint, and disregard for modesty and propriety, to enter the usual rounds of gossip?

How long before someone back at camp heard about it? Until Dutch heard?

Pressing her thumbs lightly against his chin, on each side of the cleft there, Catherine eased her face from Arthur’s. Though he leaned eagerly after her, pressing against her fingers, he did not use his hands to drag her back or force another kiss upon her. No matter the violence of his thundering desperation for her, he wasn’t going to force her.

It was… surprising, given her experiences, and she found it-- like so many things on the growing list she kept in her head for Arthur Morgan-- terribly endearing.

“...I…”

“Wait,” She whispered, “... Not here. Somewhere quiet.”

He released her, to cover her hands with his, nodding, more to himself than anything. Then he climbed to his feet and pulled her up after him.

The burning tree was forgotten. The horses forgotten. His hat, there on the dusty ground, forgotten. The job forgotten. He pulled her after him direct to the gunsmith. He wasn’t thinking, Catherine supposed, only doing-- driven by instinct or need, or both. Her own thoughts were whirling in disorder so quickly she could hardly piece them together. She’d always been aware that at any moment he might desire for her to make good on all her flirtations-- like every man before him-- but after Dutch’s threats…

After Hosea’s accusations…

The timing was certainly poor, but she wasn’t really concerned about it, now. This was…

… this was familiar territory. She knew what to do. She knew what was expected. She could go through all the motions with hardly a second thought. It was something of a relief, really, because she’d need her thoughts to decide just how to arrange things afterwards to prevent a disaster…

She was too distracted by her thoughts to catch whatever Arthur had said to the proprietor-- maybe he hadn’t really said anything at all-- nor did she notice precisely how much money he set down on the counter-- though it looked like a rather large sum. But then the man handed Arthur a key. In a rush they were back outside and circling the building and climbing the stairs in the back.

Arthur’s hands still trembled a bit, and he cursed them under his breath as he struggled with the key in the lock. Catherine couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled up-- he was still minding his oaths so as to perhaps not offend the Almighty-- but she bit her lips to hold it in.

She couldn’t help the way her heart raced when the door opened and he pulled her inside the dimness after him. Or the stuttering it made as the flat of his hand closed the door behind her again. This was familiar territory, certainly, but she had not done so well for herself by becoming complacent. Every man was at his worst behind closed doors, when the lights went down. It would be beyond foolish to not meet Arthur Morgan at his worst with a touch of apprehension.

But those large, calloused hands, shaped and scarred by a lifetime of violence, were gentle as they cupped her face like it was the finest china. Even though there was a rampaging storm of urgency and desperation in his heated gaze, he did nothing more. Not until she looped her arms over his broad shoulders and around his neck, tilting her face up toward him in invitation. Then he met her like the breaking of a wave against the cliffs on the coast of the northeast, with a similar heavy sigh, and a great deal more care.

He had no time or room for self-doubt now, and though sorely out of practice, Catherine could tell he knew how to conduct himself so as to please a lady while kissing her. She wondered whether Dutch had taught him, or Hosea, or his previous lover-- Mary, wasn’t it? Perhaps all three had their share in his education. Maybe unknown others. It didn’t really matter; she was quietly pleased that he was aware of how best to make use of his generous mouth. Few men bothered to learn, and even fewer bothered to make use of the knowledge, in her unfortunately broad experience.

It was one of the things that had drawn her to Mister van Der Linde, initially. For all his faults, the man knew how to use his mouth well.

When she felt the outlaw’s fingertips brush down the smooth skin of her throat, she moved her hands as well, sliding over his shoulders and down the broad planes of his chest, quickly working open buttons as she went. At the same time, she stepped into him, urging him backwards. Bothering only to make a vaguely inquisitive sound in his throat while he kissed her, Arthur moved as she directed, until the back of his knees hit the bed frame. By then, she’d gotten his shirt open-- perhaps far more swiftly than he’d expected-- and he’d torn his mouth from hers for want of air, gasping for breath.

Apparently his education hadn’t included remembering to breathe through his nose whilst his mouth was occupied, or perhaps he was too wound up to remember. He’d forgotten a great deal else outside, after all...

He said nothing, just gazed at her like she was the only cup of water left in the desert, and he was already a man on fire, his fingers toying with the pearl button at the throat of her shirtwaist as if he was afraid any further efforts might break it. Or break her.

Or this-- that she might, in the end, reject him despite coming this far…

Under her hands, and his heated skin beneath them, his heart galloped wildly in his chest. He was shivering all over like a fly-stung colt, quaking as her fingers slid down his body toward his belt without her eyes ever leaving the storm in his. There was something to be said about the satisfaction of having such a physically imposing man so wholly in her power.

“Lie down.” She commanded in a soft voice, uncinching his gunbelt with both hands in two smooth motions. He stooped slowly, the bed too short and too low for him to sit with any kind of real grace, considering his size, and especially with his focus elsewhere. He stumbled, mumbling a soft curse as his legs and balance forsook him, but the lady used his momentum to push him to the side, so he might fall the length of the bed instead of the width of it to hit his head on the wall. He flipped to his back in time to reach for her waist with both hands as she climbed after him, parting her riding skirt so her legs wouldn’t bind up together as she moved.

The bed groaned beneath their shared weight. Catherine wondered if the shopkeep downstairs could hear. She wondered if he were listening on purpose. It was still better than the middle of the street in front of the church and cemetery. At least here they had plausible deniability for whatever accusations might be thrown…

The pressure of the outlaw’s fingers kneading into the stiff bones of her corset at her waist sharpened her attention back on him and the task at hand-- he needed something to do with those hands, she supposed. For whatever reason, he couldn’t find a proper task for them himself. With one of her own hands and a practiced twist of fingers, Catherine popped the pearl button at her throat open, noting how Arthur’s eyes followed their motion. How the apple of his throat bobbed as he swallowed hard. Her other hand guided one of his to her throat, willing to suffer his fumbling-- willing to sew buttons back on her own clothing for a change, if necessary-- to see this done, “Here.”

While he worked the buttons open so slowly, one at a time, her hands found the buttons of his suspenders, and then the fasten of his pants.

She only paused when she heard his voice, “Wh…?!”

Her shirtwaist was only half open, and under it, he was pawing the material of her corset cover, confused by the additional row of buttons as an obstacle to get to her. It was at this precise moment Catherine realized that whatever he might have done, or planned to do with his fancy ‘Miss Mary’, he’d never actually taken her to his bed, or even seen her under-dressed.

Further, any women he might have taken his pleasure with were either not women of means and fashion, or he’d encountered them already undressed.

She wondered if this were also the reason Dutch never bothered attempting to undress her: he didn’t want to risk looking a fool.

Laughing again, Catherine leaned down to smother his frustrated incredulity with a kiss-- which he gladly, hungrily answered-- and opened his pants, sliding her fingers inside. Moaning into her mouth, the outlaw’s hands clenched hard around the silk-wrapped bones circling and cinching her ribs and waist while his own contracted in a seemingly unconscious manner, rolling his hips to meet her hand. She found him already hard and slid him free, throbbing heat. The curious, whirring, analytical part of her mind noted that while his cock-- like the man himself-- was above average in size, it was his girth that made her insides clench and turn icy. Even as… well used… as she might be, she could not help but feel apprehensive dread at how he might tear through her with his size and strength.

But it wouldn’t do for her hesitation to show. What a mess it would be if he were to question her willingness…

Fondling the length of his shaft with light brushes of her fingertips, Catherine used her free hand to coax one of his to the laces for the waist of her skirt-- with a normal skirt, the hem could be pulled up around her hips to accommodate the joining of bodies, but that which made this garment more decent and ladylike for riding astride a horse made more difficult the riding astride of a man. She felt his fingers clench suddenly into a fist around the laces and fabric when the second stroke of her hand around his member wrapped her fingers more firmly around him. His mouth tore from hers again, his face sliding into the hollow of her shoulder while his hips bucked in frantic jerks. He muffled his wordless shout of surprise, ecstasy, and shamed frustration into her body.

Equally surprised, Catherine froze as hot ejaculate spattered against the inside of her forearm before dribbling heavily onto her wrist and into her hand. They sat there a moment, trying to steady their breathing and thoughts. Her shock wore off quickly. He was far from the first man to reach completion early--always much to his embarrassment-- and in a way she was relieved. If this was all it might take to satisfy him, then--

But Arthur was moving. Gripping her arms, he pushed her to the side, over his legs, and out of his way as he climbed unsteadily--but determined-- to his feet, hands busying themselves to put himself back in order.

Thinking him shamed by his lack of performance, Catherine said, “There’s no reason for embarrassment, Arthur. It’s a perfectly natural--”

Her words stuttered, snapping into shards in her throat when she caught a glimpse of his expression, however. He didn’t look embarrassed. He looked angry.

Quite angry.

Standing in the middle of the small room, his back to her, the outlaw started for the door, and Catherine was suddenly mortified that he might leave her here like this. But he stopped halfway, then doubled-back across the room to the washbasin on top of the dresser in the corner, near the foot of the bed, with heavy footfalls that betrayed his emotion. He took the drying cloth from where it was folded next to the basin and tossed it to her. Watching the ragged cloth hit the equally ragged bedspread nearby, the lady blinked, mortification still brewing inside.

This… this had never happened before. She’d never lain with a man and had him angry-- or even displeased-- by the end. Never once! Opening her mouth to ask after him, he instead spoke, cutting her off with his low, disgusted voice.

“This… this ain’t right…” He shook his head, still refusing to look at her, presenting her only with his broad back.

Mortification swelled, and it took only moments for it to give way to anger of her own. Her tone turned icy, “... You must forgive me, sir, I was not aware my attentions were so displeasing--”

“Woman, hush.” His scolding came in a sharp, but resigned tone. “You ain’t stupid. You know precisely what I’m on about. You… you’re Dutch’s woman, dammit! How can I… I can’t… This… This ain’t right!”

Anger bubbled inside, boiling thick and heavy like a pot of coffee, “Yes. Dutch’s woman. As much a possession-- an object-- for his display to prop up his vanity and pride as all his others. A pretty and gaudy trapping to use or set aside as he pleases! Is that ‘right’, Arthur?”

He didn’t answer her.

Her emotions strangled her, forcing her voice out so hushed it was almost a hiss, “He doesn’t love me. He hardly cares for me. He just wants to keep me. Like… like a jewel. But I’m not a jewel, I’m a woman with my own mind! So don’t… don’t you dare try and shame me for this, Arthur!”

Saying nothing in reply, Arthur turned for the door, still refusing to look at her. She knew he was going for certain this time, and Catherine desperately tried to find words and voice-- something to say that might stop him. Of his own accord, he paused in the doorway.

“I’ll get the horses. Clean yerself up an’ meet me in front.” His voice was the opposite of hers-- calm, quiet, dispassionate. Businesslike.

Mortification and anger fled in the wake of humiliation, and Catherine suddenly had nothing more to say. How shameful that in this moment, Arthur Morgan be more composed than she.

She did not watch him leave, instead turning her attention to the cloth and wiping his seed from her hand and arm. The sound of the door closing behind him and his heavy, booted steps back down the stairs hammered against her turned back, and try as she might, the lady could not help but feel as if she was being isolated from the rest of the world. Again.

Determining the best and only way forward was to make the best of the terrible situation, Catherine endeavored to be nothing but sweet and agreeable, despite the pit of aching, gnawing emotion between her ribs.

She waved and smiled at the gunsmith through the window, and he smiled and raised his hand in acknowledgement before she turned to meet Arthur and the horses. The outlaw’s expression was a mask of granite, and his eyes rested on her only the moment it took to verify she could mount the tall thoroughbred well enough on her own.

“I see you found your hat,” The lady observed cheerfully, “Thats a bit of good luck.”

“C’mon,” Was his quiet reply, turning the solid Ardennes with a push of his knee, “we still need t’find Mister Graff.”

Hosea would be expecting a good report. Stifling a sigh, Catherine followed the iron grey warhorse and his rider, smoothing her mount’s mane idly as her eyes turned back toward the tree in the graveyard. Blackened by the fire, parts of it were still smoldering, though the flames had gone out.

#my mic #rdr2 fic #red dead redemption 2 fanfic #arthur morgan #ao3fic #revolver fic

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neganandblake · 6 years

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Negan and Blake AUs - Masterlist

(Put all my Negan/Blake AU’s into a nice masterlist for you to read at your convenience. Enjoy, lovelies! :) )

‘Just friends’ - best friends who lives across the street from each other.

Dream home -imagine Negan and Blake’s dream home

Blake being a virgin - Blake's first time

Negan and Blake as teachers - Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Fem!Negan & Blake

Being friends instead of lovers

One of Negan’s wives has his baby

Blake has David’s child

Negan and Blake ‘just friends’ - Negan offers his help

If Blake had returned to Alexandria with David

The Dance Class (Negan, Blake and baby Isla) - @a-distantdreamer - Negan takes his baby daughter to Blake’s dance studio for her first class.

Adult film stars - Negan and Blake get ready to film together for the first time

The Wedding Day - Negan is in church waiting for Blake to arrive.

A Divorce Part 1 Part 2 - what if Negan and Blake were separated and gong through a divorce.

The Single Mom Part 1 Part 2 Part 3- by @qhbr2013 -What if Blake was a single mom who never expected to find love again...

You’ve Got Mail - @thamberlina - is it possible to fall in love with someone you’ve never actually met?

Trick or Treat - Negan takes his daughter Isla out trick or treating and turns up on Blake’s doorstep

The Strip Club Part 2 Part 3 - Blake works as a dancer and falls head over heels for Negan, but all is not what it seems and some bruises will take a long time to heal from.

Unrequited Love - What if you loved someone who was with someone else?

The Barn Part 1 Part 2 - @a-distantdreamer - Negan shelters from a storm with his daughter Isla in a dusty old barn and meets Blake.

A trip to DisneyWorld

Finding a puppy at the Sanctuary

A Welcome home - @qhbr2013

Lemonade Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 - Farmer!Negan AU. Blake sees Negan working on the garden at Aleaxndria after years apart

1950s AU: Negan and Blake honeymoon cruising with additional fic by @thamberlina here

The Set Up - @warriorqueen1991 - Negan and Blake get set up on a date together by their friends.

Relentless - Does Negan ever give up?

From kindergarten to high school - Watch Negan and Blake grow as friends from tiny babies, right through to graduation.

Through College - Follow on from Kindergarten to high school. Negan helps Blake out with something that’s been worrying her.

Till the world stops spinning - @warriorqueen1991 Set in the future as Negan and Blake rule the Sanctuary.

Still Here @starlessskies94 - After losing his Queen, Negan struggles to continue life on his own but he might find that his love isn’t so far away after all.

Peaches and cream - @warriorqueen1991

Love at first inkdrop - @thamberlina - When Blake dumps her asshole of a boyfriend David she decides to have fresh start and takes the hump to get her first tattoo. Sparks fly when she falls for the owner of a tattoo parlor, a gorgeous guy named Negan.

Killer Queen - Role reversal AU - What if Blake was the bad girl with the bat instead of Negan? Would she fall for sweet guy Negan?

The Nurse @starlessskies94 - What if after Negan had his throat cut he was looked after by nurse Blake at the Hilltop? And what if Blake found herself falling slowly in love with him?

Daddy Daycare - @thamberlina - Negan takes care of his twins boys

Daddy Daycare, Negan’s Pride @thamberlina - Follows on from oneshot ‘Daddy Daycare’ The world is slowly getting back on its feet and the twins have firmly found theirs at The Sanctuary. Negan and Blake, now with a new addition to the family have everything running smoothly. But is there trouble on the horizon?

Call Me Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 - @longlostx11 - Blake’s first job as a call girl doesn’t quite go to plan when Negan is her first customer

Arat’s best friend - The Saviours come across a group where one of them is someone Araat knows very well indeed...

The bodyguard - Blake is a high profile actress who hires Negan as her boyguard

The King and the Queen - King Negan and Queen Blake are rivals and enemies from two side-by-side kingdoms. Both rule in completely different ways, but when both come together for a truce, the first of it’s kind for hundreds of years, their ‘meeting’ turns into so much more than just that.

The Saint and the Sinner @starlessskies94 - Vampire Negan and Mortal Blake cross paths but what will they make of each other?

Earth and Fire @roguesandsaviors - Part 2 When earth elemental Blake finds herself showing around a new mutant to Professor Xavier's school, things are not all they first seem...

Pro Ball player AU PART 1 PART 2 PART 3 @roguesandsaviors - Pro Ball player Began meets Blake at a bar and can’t get her out of his head.

My Saviour - A Negan and Blake Titanic AU by @a-distantdreamer

The Art Class - by @thamberlina - Negan and Blake join an art class but when the life model doesn't show, Negan takes this as his chance to shine in front of his blonde gal pal.

Heart Series by @thamberlina - Negan and Blake both suffer from the same heart condition and need a transplant, but the wait is long and their time is short.

Living Arrangements Part 2 Part 3 - Negan meets Blake and her two year old daughter Mia who live just across the hallway. But what happens when Blake gets evicted and has no where else to go?

The Crimson Case @starlessskies94 - This AU ‘Nake’ oneshot is set in 1940′s film noir…with Negan as a Private Eye and Blake as the gangster’s moll.

Facing Fears @starlessskies94 - Negan helps Blake with her fear of water.

A baby bump named Beansprout Part 1 Part 2- Negan is living a worthless existence locked down in his cell, but what happens when a beautiful pregnant girl named Blake shows up, brightening his world and stirring feelings in him he didn't think possible.

The mark of a soulmate @starlessskies94 - When a soulmate is near or about to come into one another’s lives; their names magically appear on each others bodies like a tattoo.

Like Father, Like Daughter @starlessskies94 - An older eighteen year old Mia; all grown up and following in the footsteps of her parents. Negans junior badass; ready to take on the world with her bat wielding daddy!

Baby, it’s cold outside @starlessskies94 Part 2

The Star and the Saviour @starlessskies94 - Blake is a famous singer with Negan as her manager; handling the PR for her new upcoming album.

The Slytherin and the Hufflepuff MASTERLIST - A Hogwarts Teachers AU.What if Professor Negan, ex-Slytherin, ex-pro Quidditch beater, started at Hogwarts as the new Defence Against the Dark Arts and Quidditch coach. And what if the one person that caught his eye was lovely, kind Madam Blake, ex-Hufflepuff and Hogwarts nurse. Harry Potter/Walking Dead crossover.

Cujo | A Negan and Blake Vet AU @roguesandsaviors - Negan’s dog is out of control, so how is a sweet, blonde vet ever gonna help calm him down?

Socks | A Negan and Blake Vet AU by @roguesandsaviors - Negan’s dog is sick and he knows the best person for the job.

The Sheriff and the school Mistress by @thamberlina - Blake Beaufort finds herself in a new town in dire need of a new start, almost immediately she catches the attention of the rugged Sheriff Negan. With Blake’s past nipping at her heels, can love flourish in the Wild West?

Last days of summer by @thamberlina - A Negan and Blake oneshot. Negan has recently taken a promotion with his company which is in another State, meaning he has to reluctantly leave behind his wife Blake and their 5-month-old son.

My Saviour by @a-distantdreamer - A Titantic crossover

Reluctant sick day by @thamberlina - Negan gets sick and is reluctant to let Blake play nurse.

Home sweet home by @a-distantdreamer - Crossover with Negan and Blake, exploring their journey to growing their family and adjusting to parenthood.

Admin Error by @thamberlina - After an admin error at the college, Blake, a brainy, timid student finds herself sharing a dorm with leather-clad biker bad boy, Negan.

Hide with me by @thamberlina - Blake Beaufort and Negan Morgan are the top two detectives in the city. So when Blake is unwittingly the eye witness of a crime committed by one of the city’s rising gangsters, her life is thrown into turmoil at risk of imminent danger. Can Negan protect his partner? And what effect will being forced into hiding have on their professional and personal relationship?

Just shelterin’ from the storm, darlin’ - Part 1, Part 2 Part 3 When Negan returns to the place he once ruled over, will he find anything there worth sticking around for?

Behind Bars by @thamberlina - Locked up in a tiny concrete cell being kept like a caged animal, Alpha!Negan has almost resided himself to his fate. Until one day, a scent in the air of an Omega ignites a burning hunger. His Omega. His Soulmate.

Schoolyard Crush - Released from the confines of his prison, Negan is slowly settling into community life at Alexandria. But what happens when Judith’s teacher catches his eye? Can Negan really fall for someone, after so long spent alone?

New Perspectives - A Biopunk AU by @roguesandsaviors

The start of a beautiful relationship - A frontier Au by @roguesandsaviors

This is big, Lady, dont screw it up - An AU by @roguesandsaviors - Blake has her big shot at stardom, and yet her poisonous leading man has other ideas? Will her dashing stage manager come to the rescue?

Bodyguard or Boyfriend by @thetruebornwildchild - Working for Atmage Security Services Negan attends a work lunch for his new job when he meets Blake. Stunned at first by her, it only get’s worse when he realises she’s the client, and there is a small stipulation in the contract.

(Please let me know if I’ve forgotten to add any).

#negan and blake #negans-network #negan #negan oc #negan masterlist #negan's thirst squad #nts #jdm #jeffrey dean morgan #negan fic #negan imagine #negan prompt #negan thirst #negan the walking dead #negan twd #negan fanfiction #negan x peaches

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