makriiii

[makriiii]

[makriiii]

[makriiii]

Caught XIV (Arthur Morgan × f!reader)

Word count: 4.2k

Authors note: I AM SO SORRY GUYS, I KNOW I KEPT SAYING ID GET IT OUT BUT COLLEGE IS CRAZY

Special thanks to @iceman-kazansky! You're so sweet. I love the reposts, I hope you enjoy this one also! I know it was long awaited :)

Warnings: 18+, mentions of blood, swearing.

♡

Caught XIV

The camp was lit with voices and laughing around you whilst you sat unbothered on a log overlooking the lake you had so admired when you had first laid your eyes upon it.

The day had been one of your nicest yet. The Arthur had not been buzzing around for you only to have to swat away. No, rather it was peaceful.

You weren't being unattentive but the sound of soft footsteps still made you snap your head around to look at the person approaching.

The finest lady in camp. Dutch's favorite girl. The one you had no opinion on yet as most of the time neither of you looked each other's way. The way she appeared made it seem like she strayed away too far from her well to do family, but you couldn't tell if that was true or just what it looked to be.

Her skirt dressed the worn wood kindly as she sat with distance from you. Quite frankly you had not a clue on whether you should say something or leave her to her own but she decided for you.

"You're that other O'Driscoll, aren't you?" She questioned, her green eyes giving you only a second of grace before scanning the horizon of the lake.

It took you a moment, unsure of where she was going with this and distracted by the sudden sight of Arthur, who was making his way toward an idling Dutch on the shore of the lake, not too far from you. "Unfortunately."

Molly's eyes scan you up and down, a familiar look of disparage glinted in her gaze. "You seem close with Arthur." She stated outright rather bluntly.

Shaking off the stare she had given you and comprehending her bold words you replied in short, "I suppose it could look that way."

"I feel like you're trying something." Her irish accent shone through with her clearly disdained words.

It was an accusation not unaccustomed by yourself, and you weren't in the mood for more of it. "I have no power to propagandize that man. He's as stubborn as an ass."

It seemed if it wasn't Arthur, it was someone else. Would the O'Driscoll talk ever end? You felt as though you had proved yourself more than needed.

"Why haven't you and your sly little buddy left yet then?" Her interrogation had you slipping on your hat in preparation of departure.

"We're just looking out for our lives, miss. If it's not the law, then it's our former members." You made sure to emphasize the past tense. O'Driscoll's gang was certainly in the past for you, whether you wanted it or not.

With that, you got up and started walking away. Perhaps you'd take a trip to town, get away from camp for a while.

"I didn't say you could go?" She scolded with a bark of her voice.

Saying more could be bad, saying nothing could also be bad. So you chose silence, you didn't want trouble with Dutch's girl.

As you walked through camp with a stretch of your back, a hand stabbed at your ribs, a sensitive part that reminded you unfortunately, you were ticklish.

You hunched over with a gasp, your arms throwing themselves to your sides to defend from further attack. It was already evident who it was.

Dutch and Arthur strolled by you, Arthur with a slight smirk watching you. Dutch caught on and studied you for a second.

"Why don't you come along to fish, Mrs. O'driscoll? Arthur told me of your struggle last time." He chuckled after Arthur gave him a slight shake of his head, a warning to redact his offer.

Mrs. O'driscoll was a new one for sure. The nicknames seemed to come from a never ending stream of creativity you despised.

Was there any way that you could say no to Dutch? No was never to be said to Colm, and learning from that, you agreed. "Alright, as long as it delights Arthur."

"It does not particularly-" Arthur rumbles before he gets guided forward by an interrupting Dutch.

"Oh, he might jump out of his boots with excitement." He laughs with a pat to Arthur's back. Like father and son. It was cute, admittedly, to see notorious outlaws have such a bond.

Hosea was waiting for the pair, and now for you as he questioned your proximity to them. "She taggin' along as well?"

"She needs to see your flare with fishing, Hosea." Dutch proclaims with a grunt as he pulls himself up in his saddle.

"Alright, let me show you how its done then." With an aloof attitude and a nod, he leads the group out of camp.

The ride you had with the three of the men wasn't heavy with feelings of stress or worry on your part. Dutch spoke of the activities he wanted done down in this town, of the money the gang needed. It felt as though you were finally one of them.

Dutch was sure to tell you all that he wanted everyone to be on the down low. Just to snoop around for now. That was easy enough for you.

It wasn't long after you got close to the tracks that the quiet atmosphere of hooves and voices was filled with the thundering of a train.

"Looks like law up ahead." Dutch chimes, his words directing your eyes to the stopped caged carriage up ahead. "Play it cool."

You and Arthur exchange glances before he made his way from your left to your right. A barrier between you and the law for whatever reason.

"Hello gentlemen." Came a mellifluous voice from the metal bars, grabbing everyone's attention.

"Well!" Came a surprised chortle from Dutch. "Look what the cat drug in."

"Ive seemed to have gotten myself in a spot of bother." You hadn't caught it before but now the smooth accent of a brit plastered his words.

You had not a clue who this man was or how he knew the gang. It was only so long that you would find out however.

"Quiet back there." Grumbled the lawman from upfront, his fist hammering down on the metal to rattle the cage.

Dutch examined this for a moment, "lets see if we cant sort this out."

The small talk that commenced turned into the talk similar of a lawyer. Defending the "silly fancy fop." Clearly, he was important if this was worth the trouble.

The other imprisoned men in the back took Dutch's distraction and started picking at the lock, providing entertainment for you and Arthur who sat there watching.

Dutch didn't get finished before the man had the lock off and the creaky doors opening, the other three men following with no hesitation.

"Shit!" Exclaims the sheriff, his and his partners eyes wide as their captives latched onto the train now departing. "The Anderson boys! I cant have more scandal!"

"Allow us to help, my friend." Dutch offers, his gaze not waiting a moment longer to send you and Arthur off. "Arthur... y/n."

Arthur sighed, "chase wanted men?" He confirms, ushering you on with a glance.

"And-" he points to the lawman's partner, "take Archibald with ya."

You followed, your horse already springing into action, your adrenaline not short after that.

"Just what I signed up for..." Arthur clearly discontent with what he got to be volunteered for. "Come on, big guy."

He helped Archibald up on his horse and took off beside you and after the train. The sight of the men on the back of the train and your chasing brought you back to the very day that was the reason you were here now.

Archibald hollered from the back, encouraging you forward with jarring words. "Keep your guns holstered, we need them Anderson boys alive."

You clicked your tongue, pushing your mare forward, surprised at the speed in which the train was already traveling.

Archibald nagged again. "Come on hurry!"

His words were met with swift retort of displeasure from Arthur. "All right."

"Come on, we're losing them!"

"Will you relax? We're not losing 'em!"

"Faster, come on! What's your name, sir?" Archibald seemed to have a speed in mind that a horse would have trouble reaching with two riders on its back. "And how about you, lady?"

"Arthur. Arthur Callahan." Replied a grumpy Arthur. Although you didn't have much sympathy for him, it made you smile in the face of this situation.

"Y/n Callahan." Without a fake last name in mind, you copied Arthurs.

"Faster, Mr. and Mrs. Callahan, please. My neck is on the line here!"

"I get it. We're doing our best." Arthur grunts. His eyes were trained on you, curious that you copied him.

The last of the four was dangling off the back of the train, struggling to pull himself up. His buddy fortunately came back for him.

"You sure I can't just shoot him?" Arthur asks, disregarding what he had been told moments earlier.

"No. Did I not say that?" Archibald scolds, watching the men escape further up the train.

"You've said plenty." Arthur was on his last straw and you appreciated the help from Archibald.

"So long deputies!" Came a man monkeying around on the roof of the final cart, teasing and whooping.

The water tower in the back posed a quickly approaching threat to the completely oblivious man who was but too quick to celebrate his victory.

You cringed back as the harsh smack of the back of his head met with funnel to the water tower. Your horse barely missing his body now knocked clean out on the tracks.

"Idiot. Now get after the others, come on!" He shouted at you and Arthur, keeping your minds trained on the ones who were conscious.

The train started slowing as it passed the big red building that was the station, which Archibald pointed out.

Your horses now were more of a match for the speed and you both came up alongside the train.

"You think you both can jump on there?"

"She can." Arthur outs you with non-existent hesitation. "But why me?"

"Because you ride like my grandmother!" Insisted Archibald, which would have you chuckling right in Arthur's face had you not been distracted.

One of the men started throwing bottles, one would've hit you if the man wasn't so bad at judging distance, the glass shattering in the distance that you covered quickly.

"Now he's throwing bottles. The lowdown bastard!" Archibald squealed, dodging one heading right for him.

You took the liberty of joining the Anderson boys on the train first as you were ahead of Arthur and Archibald. Arthur not mere moments fore he was behind you.

You caught your breath for a second, catching another bottle hurled at you while Arthur faced him head on.

The man atop the cargo on the train managed a good kick on Arthur who fell to the side. His neck quickly subject to the squeezing of the Anderson boy's hand.

"You bastard!" Screamed the man as he held onto Arthur with vigor.

You felt a strange sense of anger wash over you as you made for Arthurs aid, grabbing a good fistful of cloth and heaving the man off with Arthurs help.

"Thats it!" Came Archibalds encouragement from the side lines. In his hands were your horses reins. Kind of him, you thought, to bring your horse.

You helped Arthur up and both of you started for the rest of them, although admittedly, without a gun, you'd have to let Arthur do most of the strong arming.

"Come on, both of you! I'm relying on you guys!" Archibald was certainly one for constant reminding.

The sprinting on the train felt counter productive, it was certainly more work than just regular running.

Arthur made sure to be in front of you, he was like a big shield and ran surprisingly fast for how large he is.

"You hold it right there!" Arthur shouts at the other two men who were barely in sight ahead of you.

You had to jump atop the roof and Arthur, the gentleman that he is, helped none.

This normally would not have been a problem, but with your weak arm, it left you struggling.

Arthur had pushed through it despite his shoulder and was ready to go off and leave you but he didn't. He stood above you and held out his hand.

"Let's go, Mrs. Callahan." His face gave away the fact that he enjoyed this activity with you. Also by the fact he was picking on you again.

"I'm coming, grandmother." You were sure to tease back. His hand gripped yours and with the strength of not a grandmother, pulled you up with ease. He gave you a scoff before continuing on after the Andersons with you.

"Come on, shitbags!" Mocked one of the men from ahead. Jumping from cart to cart and down again to keep ahead of you both.

The second time you both needed to climb Arthur just grabbed you and heaved you up, his shoulder clearly bothered him as a pained grunt was heard from behind you.

Atop this car one of the men was right there, but your mind was on helping Arthur instead. As you gripped under his arms and pulled, footsteps pounded behind you.

The guy came right back around and started coming for you, which was not good. To say the least.

"You're the law?" He scoffs, your not so threatening appearance seemed to spur him on more. "We're runnin from you?" He hadn't seemed to notice that Arthur was also hot on his tail.

He was large and he was not letting up. His heavy footsteps thundering toward you shook the metal roof under you.

Your hand instinctively brushed the gun at your hip but Archibalds multiple requests lingered in your mind.

He was quick to be on you, throwing out your arms to brace yourself and push him away from you as his hands met your shoulders, trying to wrestle you off the train car entirely.

His strength was clear as you both struggled, your body wobbling closer and closer to the edge.

"Not so scary now, huh?" This man derides before his eyes widen at the friend you had in tow.

Arthur pulls him off and throws him to the ground, his back meeting the hard metal with a thud.

You take the chance to continue after the other, perhaps just threatening the man with your gun would do. You felt like you weren't being of much help, which hit you right in the gut.

"Damn bastard!" Hollers the man now at Arthurs mercy from behind you. "Get away from me!"

That was his final spew of nonsense before his consciousness loses itself to Arthur's fist.

Ahead was the final member of this gang that was in need of a catching. You had to jump down and get inside of the car he had slipped into.

The running came to a halt, the final cart being cold and the smell of fresh meat filled your nose. A particular pleasure that wasn't all that pleasurable.

"Quit runnin'. You ain't got much of a chance anyway, Anderson."

"Yeah? And what are you gonna do little lady?" He jeers from his cornered position at the front of the train cart.

"Don't worry your head about me. It's him." You point back to the man behind you. It wouldn't be like that had you been able to use your gun. It certainly felt strange being so powerless but not unfamiliar. Arthur always reminded you.

"Do we need to bother?" Arthur groans, rolling his shoulder with a wince.

"Let me go!" The man demands, his aggressive stomps closing the distance between him and Arthur.

"I can't do that." Arthur replies, holding up his fists. The man had a knife, which worried you slightly as you watched this fight ensue.

The sudden halting of the train threw all three of you forward suddenly, the man caught off guard, was doubly caught off guard by Arthur taking his chance to take him on.

They wrestled around, the sounds of fists hitting bodies were apparent. Despite Arthurs effort, the man kept getting closer to where you stood, which then had you counting your options on what to do if he changes his target.

His knife went clean through Arthurs forearm, who in turn gasped in pain. You wanted to do something, but getting in Arthurs way would do more harm than good.

He stumbled back from Arthur, his proximity to you no less than an arm length, it presented an opportunity. With your good arm and the back of your gun, you brought it down hard on the back of the man's head. Not enough to knock him out but enough for Arthur to.

You and Arthur stared at each other for a moment before hunching over to catch your breath. The spontaneity of this situation finally hit you and the realization made you laugh breathily. Arthur gave you a look before he couldn't help but give a small chuckle as well.

Motioning for his bleeding arm, you tear off the remaining cloth from his shirt and shape it into a decent enough improvised gauze.

"Can't fix my shirt now, I guess." Arthur observes the obvious but he didn't seem to be genuinely mad by the prospect of it.

"All this blood of yours ruined it already." You shake your head, tying the torn cloth gently around his arm gently.

"Suppose you're right." He admits, a conceded smile drawn on his face.

"That's how it always is." You tease, not being sure what to do with your hands now that they have blood on them. "At Least you got him."

"That's also how it always is." He repeats in a voice that sounded like it was suppose to be a mockery of yours.

"I expect no less from you, grandma dearest." You praise, even if it wasn't exactly that.

"Leave out grandma, please." He shakes his head, his laugh turning into a tired smile.

"Just dearest?" Your eyebrow raises with a teasing smirk.

"Just dearest." He confirms, meeting your eyes with an equal look on his face.

Despite him saying things like this before, you haven't found yourself any more prepared for it than the time previous. "If you're going to flirt, at least try."

"Okay then." He stands upright and as he gears himself up for the "flirting" a loud, galling voice comes from the outside of the cart.

"Hello? Is everything alright in there?" For the past minute, Archibald had vanished from your mind, only to return at an unsatisfactory time.

Arthur was audibly and visibly displeased as he reported back to the lawman, "well... I don't think he's dead... but I think we won the fight."

Arthur picked up the downed man, and Archibald pulled the door open to finally see what happened. "Bring him out here."

"Deputy." Arthur nods with a greet as you follow out behind him.

"Sounded like quite a commotion. Is that him?" The lawman examines the blonde Anderson to check.

"I sincerely hope so." Grumps Arthur. His temporary humor gone from just moments ago.

"Old Anders Anderson." Scoffs Archibald with a look of scorn.

That there was the head man, a surprise that he didn't have more in him. Though in all fairness, he got ganged up when you joined Arthur for a second.

You all mounted, following Archibald to where you needed to go take this man not unlike you and Arthur, to the can.

The ride basically amounted to nothing more than a tour from Archibald. He spoke of the Gray's and the Braithwaite's. One, a respectable family. The other, not so much.

Arthur kept glancing at you while you both listened to him talk about these families, their fortune and their feud. You both knew it sounded like something Dutch and Hosea would love to hear about.

The road brought you lot into town quickly, greeted by a fairly large saloon, sure to be mentioned was that it was owned by the Gray's. As most things were said to be in this town. Rhodes, so it was.

Hosea sat outside of the sheriff's office, greeting you all as you rode up and it wasn't long till Dutch barged out of the door behind Sheriff Gray.

"I told you Arthur would deliver, man has a passion for justice." Dutch exclaims behind the sheriff as he meets the rest of everyone back outside.

Sheriff Gray thanked you and Arthur for the help, setting Trelawny free from his imprisonment in return for the task you had completed.

All of this for a man you'd never met. Though as much as you thought about it, there was no regret. Running alongside Arthur and the two of you on that train together had been a surprising amount of fun.

Dutch and the Sheriff exchanged conversation for a short while before warning Dutch to keep Trelawny out of trouble.

Now quickly did you find that Trelawny was quite the talker.

"And you are?" He coo's with a slight bow and a hand shake.

"Y/n l/n." You nod, returning his hand shake.

"How lovely to meet you, Miss l/n." He kindly nods before spinning back around to lead the group of you.

Trelawny reiterated the story of the Gray's and Braithwaite's. Long standing feud, gold that was fought over, cousins marrying cousins or not marrying cousins. It was strangely interesting.

"I want you guys to check that out later." Dutch was sure to mention, directing it towards you, Hosea and Arthur.

Trelawny warned of all the talk, 500 miles around, north and south, "super agents" or sorts of that matter.

Dutch laughed with disbelief. "Super agents? All talk."

"Oh, no doubt." Trelawny agreed before turning back around to face all of you. His words were that of departure, which surprised you, having just met this man no less than five minutes ago.

Dutch shrugged when Hosea looked at him, even surprised, nodding a goodbye to Trelawny.

As your group of four made way back to your horses, Dutch brought up the rich families.

"Hosea, I want you to check out the Braithwaite's. Arthur, you and y/n sniff around the Gray's place."

You nodded your agreement and Arthur his. "Our friend Archibald showed us the Gray's place earlier." Told Arthur, recounting your recent ride.

Dutch and Hosea now chattered together up ahead, leaving you and Arthur to walk together behind them.

The two of you were so close together your shoulders brushed but neither of you seemed to care enough to make any distance.

"So who was that?" You ask Arthur curiously.

"Oh, Trelawny? A slippery con man of sorts. We've known him for a good while."

You hum your acknowledgement, "he's not a part of the gang?"

"He is. Just, that's why he's slippery. Doesnt stay nowhere too long."

You give it some thought. The man looked like a high fligher and in towns like this, spelled trouble. You had found that out before you had become particularly opinionated against the law.

You rubbed your sore arm, the scab formed around the wound was sure to leave a scar. It hurt everytime you prodded at it too much but admittedly it became a bad habit.

"How's your arm after that?" You guessed he was referring to the man you had scuffled with no less than an hour ago.

"It's not bad." You dismiss with a wave of your hand. "Your shoulder is more worrisome, that cut too. Think you should rest it for a while."

Arthur looked over at you with a subtle look of sarcastic shock. "Worried for me now, are ya?"

You bumped into him with your shoulder, your discontent frown unable to stay for long as a smile crept up on you.

As close as that man could get to giggling was what he was doing.

"Quite the fishin’ trip, huh?" Arthur proclaims ahead to Hosea and Dutch.

"The fish weren't so easy to catch neither." You sigh, tired from all that runnin you had to do.

"No, that they weren't." Dutch laughs in agreement, talking like the one who gladly had to do none of the fishing. "There's still time. I'm up for it."

"How about you two?" Hosea questions, looking you and Arthur up and down. "Or have you had enough of the chase for one day?"

Arthur meets your eye, seemingly checking if you'd want anything to do with it first.

"Pearson will need something for the soup." You agreed, pushing down the unsavory idea of handing over your catch for the stew Pearson would cook up.

"Yeah alright then." Arthur adds, agreeing with the rest. Hosea, happy with this, mounted his horse behind Dutch and Arthur.

Amongst the riding, Hosea and Dutch told stories of the past, ones involving Trelawny. Everyone in the group had a good laugh at these stories, and for this moment, you had not a care in the world. Not even the feeling of being an outcast haunted you as you and your fateful friends - perhaps, if you could call them that, made your way to your planned fishing trip.

----

So far, just a fishing trip is never actually "just" a fishing trip. Just a dangerous date.

#arthur morgan #red dead redemption arthur #red dead redemption two #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x you #dutch van der linde #hosea matthews #van der linde gang #rdr2arthur #rdr2 fanfic #arthur morgan rdr2 #rdr2

[makriiii]

Spirit Stallion of the Cimmaron + scenery

[makriiii]

beaver hollow

[makriiii]

Caught XIII (Arthur Morgan × f!reader)

Word count: 3.7k

Authors note: My car broke down today so I wrote this while I waited for my friend to save me 💪

Warnings: 18+, angst, cursing.

♡

Caught XIII

The thin layer of cloth from your shirt created a small barrier between you and the rough bark of the tree you sat up against.

You weren't sure what time of the morning it was, though it seemed certainly not too late yet.

The light morning fog reflected like specs of luster in the rays of early sun that cast down through the leaves and branches hanging above you. It caught you in a trance as you stared at its transformation from fog to a dewy blanket over the mostly packed up camp.

No one else was awake yet, not even Hosea. The silence being broken by the conversations of birds and distant snores from around camp.

The distractions slowly waned as your mind fully adjusted, the events of the past few days surfacing.

It'd been a week or so since you'd gone fishing - a day of two catches and two new opportunities for Arthur to give you a hard time for. Said Arthur suddenly making himself known from your left side as he slid over, his head slumping onto your shoulder and startling you with a light gasp.

With his sudden contact to your side, and your jerking under him apon shock, his eyes flew open as he pulled upright suddenly.

You were taken aback while giving him a startled and confused look, his eyes in the sun the same like that of the sky as they stared into you with a mix of drowsiness and annoyance. A result of the realization that it was you infront of him.

The silence between you two stayed as such, but your facial expressions and eyes spoke lengths.

His face was clear with the means of irritation that you woke him. As for you, a look of 'what did I do?'.

It wasn't your fault he scared you after all.

He continued to stare at you. You continued to stare back while being utterly impressed he could hold such a stare, not having even woken a minute ago.

"What?" You finally blurted the question.

"Why'd you do that?" Arthurs tone was heavy and slow, his morning voice very clear.

You were too tired to contort your face into anything that'd give him a strong reaction, but even then, you still didn't understand what he was thinking.

"Do what?"

He grumbles something under his breath, his one hand reaching up to his eyes, rubbing away the sleepiness. "Move like that."

"Oh, I'm sorry -" You started, but he already detected the sarcasm in your voice, waving his hand to try to get you to stop. It made you crack a smile at how fast he was already trying to shut you down.

"Too early." He mumbled angrily, stretching his arms while giving you a deep sigh.

"Oh no, please princess, rest your head on my shoulder so you can sleep alright." You feigned a pitied voice while using his typical insult intended for you, patting your shoulder for him.

He didn't even hesitate. His head landed softly on your shoulder, his eyes already shut.

You watched him from where he was on your shoulder, shocked that he actually accepted your not so genuine offer.

"I wasn't being serious." You groan, giving him a pat on the head. One that maybe wasn't so gentle, but one that wasn't too mean, at least.

He takes a deep breath, getting ready for a full day of you as he removes himself from your shoulder. "Cant you let me sleep?"

"When it's not on me." With that, you gave him a shrug and a shake of your head. You put your entire hand over his face and pushed him away so you had space to depart.

In your upright position came the slight headache you got from last night's drinks that Arthur finally obliged to. You remembered most everything, so clearly you didn't get your money's worth, but at least it saved you the hangover.

Due to your bounties, you had just never gotten around to it till much later, spending your time helping around camp and committing various acts that don't align with that of the law.

It wasn't a step away you got with your thoughts before Arthur's hand grabbed yours, stopping you from starting your day with the rest of the now arising camp.

Looking down at him, he finally started to get on your nerves. It was already too early for this - just like he already mentioned - for whatever he was going to pull now.

Standing there with tired eyes, you looked him over with your hand in his grasp, questioning him with a held brow.

He ushered you with a motion to help him up, groaning with the exertion he was putting into holding onto you.

Grasping his wrist with your other hand, you leaned back with a lazy pull, barely lifting him off the ground.

"Put your back into it." Arthur quipped from below you.

Immediately, you stopped, landing him harsh into a sit again and, in turn, thankfully, making him let go of your wrist.

He chuckled with a twinge of pain, his free hand reaching for that dark and worn hat of his on the ground an arms length away.

"Hope you enjoyed those drinks last night, Morgan." You teased, knowing full well he drank more than you had only to make your wallet hurt.

"Yeah. Last night." He returned, emphasizing the past tense, which made you snicker at him.

With the near passing of a full two months together with Arthur and his pack of outlaws, and despite your hate for another, you both weren't afraid to express how comfortable you had gotten with each other. Even though, only in a way that was with the pure intention of making life more difficult for each other.

It was easy to let your mouth slip with any insult around him. He wouldn't do anything to you. He knew this too. Unfortunate for him, but you weren't free of him curtailing it by doing the same back.

As the day started and the rest of camp got ready for the day of traveling, Arthur ushered you along so that, for some reason, you two would leave first on your horses.

He was leading the way, as he and Charles were the ones who had found this place after all.

You kept giving him looks. Confused looks. You didn't know why he decided to make you ride with him up front and then remain entirely silent.

He caught your eye after checking the distance between you both and the rest of the caravan behind you.

"Y/n?" He makes sure your attention was on him, though still keeping his voice low. It was with the usual gruff and commanding tone he used with you.

"What is it?" You respond, clicking your horse on as to keep pace with Arthurs.

"I'm glad you tagged along with us on the fishing trip with Jack." Arthur commented with an unusual sincerity that was infected with a slight inability to admit such a thing.

"Is that so?" You reply with a shocked and sarcastic look. "Whatever would make you say that?"

"Well, I now know what a terrible fisher lady you are."

"'Fisher lady.'" You repeat with a roll of your eyes and a scoff. Again; there was no way you had been that terrible at it. After all, you had caught two fish. "I cant believe youre still on about that."

"Don't worry," he snickers lowly from beside you, glancing up ahead. "I just didn't want Jack to hear what they had to say. No business of his."

You nodded slowly in agreement. You didn't really know how to take this, as you and Arthur's conversations only consisted of bickering or silly conversations. "Are you trying to say thank you?"

He turned to observe you for a second before he gave himself away with a slight blush. "Yeah. I suppose so."

"That's why you got me to come all the way up here with you? So others wouldn't hear?" You start laughing at him with the disbelief that he was that shy.

He ignored you, not allowing you another look at his face from underneath his hat. "Don't make me regret this."

"You're welcome, Arthur. Jack didn't need to hear it, I agree." You finally granted so he didn't feel too regretful over it. But you still had questions. "So, what did they say? I assume they're why we're leaving."

He stayed silent for a few moments, thinking about it before he started telling you about it.

-

The area got warmer and more humid the further down south your little caravan got.

New Hanover was inundate with your former gang members, ones who took kind with a reunion, though not one that left you alive.

It was a relief to stray further away from such circumstances, watching the land you got so familiar with, become less familiar. Yet, with the removal of one threat came another. One you've heard of before.

The Leymone raiders.

They won't enjoy another gang on their turf, but hopefully, you wouldn't be meeting with them anytime soon.

Arthur and Charles had gone through to Dewberry Creek, the spot Micah had recommended. And in a crazy chain of events, found German immigrants - one of which was a hostage, that then led to the point you lot were to be camping in.

It confused you, not helped by the fact Arthur wasn't all that clear with the rundown.

The land around you was a mix of low hills and open grassy areas, old stone fences reclaimed by the Earth and sparse trees. It was only up ahead that you saw a bushy area well with forest, which was where the head of the caravan turned into.

There was a dingy pathway just large enough for a carriage to fit, leading to a meadow-like spot.

Once you caught up to the front, you resisted eye contact with Arthur, who you could feel staring at you. You weren't excited, by ANY means to help set up camp. It hadn't been too terribly long since you got shot. Still hurt like hell.

For once, you minded your own business, hopping off your horse and checking the place out.

It was right by the water, which was perfect. Plus the forest around gave a decent cover, much like the one at Horseshoe Overlook.

You couldn't keep yourself busy with these thoughts. Arthur was shooting you a stare about as strong as what he shot you with upon your first meeting. It was difficult avoiding a returned glare.

Finally, you accidentally slipped up. So slight was your movement before he hooked your eye contact.

He caught your discreet glance and, with near perfect mimicry, put a hand on his hip and posed like he'd taken a lesson on it by Ms. Grimshaw.

Arthur waved his stinky little finger at you, causing a grimace to form on your face with defiance.

He wasted no moments to nod his head slowly with confirmation that he was going to get you over here. He knew you were trying to slip out of it.

You pointed to your arm as a silent retort and to no surprise of your own, he met with a shrug and pointed to his shoulder in comparison.

A conceded sigh blew out of your lips. You dragged your feet over to him, his eyes never leaving you the entire time.

"Don't think I don't see you, Y/n." He sneers while handing you a box, and not until it reached your hands did you realize how heavy it was.

Arthur snickers at you as you correct your posture to hold it. "Well?" You question impatiently, your fingers already aching under the weight.

"What?" He replies just as impatient.

"You want me to just stand here and look at you? Where do I put this?"

He met your eye, studying you when you said that. His brow slowly rose like an on switch for the cogs in his head to turn.

You set the box down, what else was he doing this for than to annoy you?

"I mean, you can look at me, you just have to work for it." Your eyes squinted together at his words, giving him a look so unimpressed he started to chuckle, waving you off and pointing you in a direction. "Over there, Y/n."

Every Time you went to get another various item, Arthur was walking the opposite direction, making sure no doubt that you were staying in line.

Everyone did that. Shooting you stares on occasion to make sure the O'Driscoll was behaving. It comforted you knowing Keiran was in the same boat as you, but he didn't talk too much. Arthur, of course, is the main perpetrator.

You had no idea why he had kept on your ass so hard, he was nowhere near as stuck up with Keiran.

It felt like hours passed when you finally finished helping everyone else, now it was just this last one that Arthur was at.

He wanted you to help him, so you did. Though with much reluctance and not much choice.

As you bent over, fiddling with some boxes, Arthurs hip bumped against yours. It shook you pretty good and almost made you fall over.

"Watch yourself." Came the words from Arthurs mouth. Arthurs mouth?

"What on earth do you mean?" You stood up swiftly and hissed at him in a retort.

There was a slight smirk on his face when his eyes looked down at you with your reaction.

You quickly caught onto his antics. You'd dealt with them too often by now.

"Why out of the two O'Driscolls, do you harass me the most?"

He chuckled something sinister as he shoved a few random things in your hands. "Because I enjoy harassing you the most."

Aside this little caravan no longer complete with horses, he set up random things to make it more comfy, having given you a few items to put around the slowly coming along area.

It was two picture frames along with a few loose pictures. You took it upon yourself to look at them. Who else would?

"Next time you need me to come save you, don't count on it..." you trail off distracted by the prints in front of you.

The first one was a lady in an oval frame that accentuated her soft features. You weren't sure who she was, though she looked not dissimilar to Arthur.

"As long as I avoid riding with you in the first place, I'll be fine."

You ignored the jab at you, mostly because you were distracted by the photos.

He was now turned away from you fiddling with something, so you couldn't compare his face to hers or he'd see you and most likely decide to retrieve these pictures.

The next frame was square and held and an equally beautiful woman. One who didn't share Arthurs features at all. A lady properly acclimated to society by the looks of it.

A pit formed in your stomach at the notion that she wasn't a possible relative to him, but you didn't allow it residency for long. You ignored it instead, quickly moving onto the other ones.

The mugshot of a skinny man with a massive handlebar mustache met your eyes, who also seemingly shared some qualities with Arthur. Who was to say they weren't his parents? You wanted to know.

The second to last one showed Dutch, Hosea and Arthur and the final with Arthur and that lady again. Though he looked a lot younger in both of these, as well as Dutch and Hosea.

You ignored it and immediately went to thinking up ways to tease him about some of the pictures instead.

As you set them down, it finally dawned on you that you had been helping him to set up his area unknowingly all along and that only fuelled your desire to give him a hard time - again.

"Let me see your face." You request in more of a demanding tone than you had intended.

His brows squeeze together while giving you a momentary glance of puzzlement. Ultimately denying your request by turning his face away and keeping it hidden under his hat. "What kind of random question is that?"

"You shy?" You question with a snark. Motioning your hand for him to look up.

He slowly turned his head to you with hesitation, straightening his back out from his bent over position.

Comparing the picture of him and his mom with an obvious back and forth of your eyes, came Arthurs grumpy face forming.

"You weren't supposed to look at them. Just set them down." He was sure to mention as he stood there awkwardly.

You nod slowly with a mischievous grin growing on your face. He noticed it almost immediately, of course. He had gotten way used to your gestures.

Picking up the one where he was younger, his face dimmed when he saw you coming up with words. Words he wouldn't like

He lunged forward trying to grasp it out of your hands but you kept it just out of his reach.

"Give me that." He rasps, his hand flying around trying to grab yours. His other grasping your forearm, pulling it closer to him. Both of you stumbled around until you bumped into the back of his open carriage.

"I don't want to rip it." You declare with a breath. "Plus you gave it to me in the first place.

"And now I want it back." His body was close to yours. His arm still held yours near with a firm grip.

He stared down at you, which gave you a decent look of his face under his hat.

"If I had met you when you were younger, I reckon I wouldn't have taken you serious at all." You giggle, slightly out of breath with the small scuffle that just transpired.

"You've taken me seriously before?" He questions with a raised brow, still grumpy.

You made a face, full of fake contemplation and while you did, you got your forearm free from Arthur's hand with a quick pull.

"Not really, I suppose. You won't do anything to me." You admit, pulling out the card to get a closer look in front of him. "See? You look fresh from the womb here." Pointing down at his face. Young and free of the blemishes, marks, scars and light wrinkles that now painted his face.

He stood over you. Exceptionally close still, looming over you. His eyes made strong contact with yours as you looked back up to him with a smirk. "I wont do anything to you, huh?" He asks with a dark tone that let a small upturn at the corner of his lips slip.

"No." You replied simply with a shake of your head, completely confident in your answer.

He snatched the photo quickly and then pressed your hat down over your eyes before returning to his duties. "We'll see about that, y/n."

You stood there and fixed your hat before giving him a dirty look. "You won't do anything, I've figured that much so far."

Now he set up a bed of sorts. The one he always got to sleep on that did not meet the ground like nearly everyone else's here. It had to be more comfortable than yours.

"I've let you get too comfortable then." He sassed, yet he didnt maintain eye contact. He fiddled with the bed and then got out the mattress.

"I haven't been comfortable at all." You correct with gusto, walking around to where he was with the bed.

"Then I plan to make it worse." He announces plain as day, finalizing some adjustments to his bed.

You thought about it. It was a no brainer.

"How about we make it more comfortable for me instead." You suggest as you inch closer to him.

He turned his head to give you a glance. Arthur's eyes widened in frustration as you crashed down onto his bed and made yourself comfortable.

You gave him a quick peek and kicked off your boots to show him you weren't going anywhere.

"Y/n." His voice carried the usual demanding tone he always reverted to. "If you don't remove yourself, I'll move you myself."

"Ah ah." You correct with a side to side of your pointer finger. "You never paid me that five dollars for when I let you sleep with me."

He whipped his head around when you reminded him of that, eyes as wide as saucers. You knew what you said. You knew you could've articulated it better, but his reaction was well worth it.

"Be quiet with that, woman." He scolded with a harsh whisper. "I still think that's a scam." He moves closer to you and suddenly slides you over with his bum on the bed.

You tried pushing him off with a grunt but the man was too heavy. "What are you doing? We can't both fit." You groan in between breaths of struggling to get him off.

He tossed his hat off to the side as to avoid it getting crushed and then proceeded to lay right on top of you.

"Arthur -" you hiss out like a deflating balloon. It took everything you had to try to get this big man off of you. "What the hell?"

"You said I could sleep as long as it wasnt on you," Arthur references while trying to make himself comfortable over you. "What are you gonna do about it if it is on you?"

Grumbling something under him, you give up on trying to bench press him off. You aim for his side and start jabbing at him which made him jerk in reaction with a sharp gasp.

You start chuckling as you tickle him. This big brute of a man unable to catch your hands that poked his sides. "How, out of all the nastiest outlaws, are you ticklish?"

"I'm not." He growls as he flips over and finally pins your hands above your head on the mattress, bringing an end to your madness.

His face was close to yours as he held your wrists in one hand. "Five for sleeping with you, hm?"

Your brows shot up and your initial confident playfulness turned into nervous butterflies that fluttered in your stomach.

---

Hi guys.. 😭😭 quick note

I apologize, seeing as I havent uploaded for almost two months! I started school & just havent had as much time anymore to write.

With that being said; I dont really feel like this story is going anywhere - BUT DONT FRET. I'm not discontinuing it or anything.

Most of these chapters revolve around random scenarios with a little sprinkle of plot line 😬 and so, Im not sure what you guys would prefer..

I know its my fanfic & Im suppose to do what I want with it, but at the same time I dont want ya'll feeling like its just dragging on or taking a turn for the worse. At this point its just y/n's miscellaneous adventures with Arthur until it leads to some stinky ass smutt. (😼)

Basically, if you want it more plot based chapters, it'll take a bit longer for the next chapter as it takes more time for me to think of a good way to put y/n into the actual plot and change things up a bit.

Whereas scenario based with plot here & there I can deliver faster since I usually come up with random scenarios all the time anyway.

Would love to hear what you guys think :)

-M ♡

P.S. I started this before I actually had the game, so I WROTE ABOUT THE LEMOYNE RAIDERS IN VALENTINE?!??! Im going to rewrite that just pretend it didnt happen pls 🥰

#arthur morgan #red dead redemption arthur #red dead redemption two #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x you #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 #red dead fanfic #enemies to lovers #lemon fanfic

[makriiii]

[makriiii]

Caught XII (Arthur Morgan × f!reader)

Word count: 3.1k

Authors notes: Sorry this one took so long 😭

Warnings: 18+, angst, guns.

♡

Caught XII

You hadn't gotten Arthur to do much this morning, as he was getting off easy after being asked by Abigail to take Jack to do something, something that would distract the poor boy from all the goings-on in this camp.

By no means were you mad at Abigail or Jack, but the snide look Arthur gave you as he walked by to his horse after telling the boy to get his fishing rod did.

"You think you're gonna get to leisure?" Snickering harshly as you decided then and there you were tagging along.

"Got business to do, I guess." He was more than happy to dismiss his duties, but you weren't letting up that easy.

"Fine then, but I'm coming with." You made sure you had all your guns, and though you didn't neglect them, you wished you had just so they'd be difficult for Arthur to clean. "Teach Jack to fish, but then you're cleaning my guns."

He bites back an argumentative retort, glaring at your face that now traded eachothers looks. A dirty smirk on yours and a vexed frown on his.

Pulling his eyes away from yours, he lifted Jack up on the back of his horse and pushed past you down the path leading to the river below the overlook.

Bouncing around on your horse after yesterday... you could feel most every part of your muscles burning and aching, especially your back, shoulders, and arms.

You wanted to get back at him, and now it was his turn to see how fun working was with a wound like yours.

Arthur and Jack spoke a bit of back and forth until you had enough courage to get your mare into a canter, much as your body protested.

"You feelin' better? I know you was a little sick." Arthur questions jack with a small check-up.

"Oh, I'm fine." He assures plainly. At that age, you recalled the simplicity of life.

"You're a brave kid." Compliments Arthur, the sort of warm speech you'd use with a kid. It didn't seem much Arthurs style, that's for sure, from what you were used to at least.

Jack looked up to Arthur, both literally and figuratively in that moment, confessing his conclusion. "So just like you."

Arthur gave him a chuckle, glancing over to you as you focused on not sliding out of your saddle with your sore legs shaking.

"I dont know about brave... I ain't much of a kid no more either." You were a bit surprised with this display, as typically he was all up in your face haughty. "Though your momma might disagree. Her and a few other women, I guess."

Now, his glance turned into more solid eye contact when you felt you were referenced in that sentence.

"I like it when you're agreeable." You nod with a certain light heartedness. The kind that was hard to muster around Arthur on a normal day.

His brow knitted together, but his playful look didn't completely vanish, no.

"What do you mean?" Jack chimes with confusion. He was still too young to understand humor of that sorts.

"Oh, I'm just talking silly. It's been a tough few weeks up in that snow."

"I liked the snow." Jack corrects as his eyes light up with the memory. For you, you'd been up there for only barely two days and didn't like it much. Their whole story of being up there you'd only caught snippets of.

The rest of the ride was short as you scoped out a good spot to fish at, Arthur and Jack, continuing a small conversation about the old camp and something he'd left behind in Blackwater.

It was tough for Jack, and tough to explain a situation like the gangs to a kid in a way he could not only understand but not start being worried or stressed.

You felt bad for him, but this whole trip was exactly for helping him not worry or stress.

Dismounting, you helped Jack down as Arthur got out the fishing supplies.

"You ready for fishin', Jack?" Distracting yourself with a question for him as your arms screamed at you with his weight being held.

He was still a bit skeptical of you. He knew about O'Driscolls and didn't like them much either as the rest of the gang. Did his part in pickin' on Keiran too, as young as he was.

His eyes scanned you with a harsh and genuine judgment only a young kid could give you, social skills not yet fully developed. "Yeah, I think so."

You walked him close to the water as you waited for Arthur, who wasn't far behind, holding the rods and bait.

"So, what was it you said you lost at Blackwater?" If it wasn't something completely unique, then perhaps you could get it for him.

"My storybook." He reiterates, clearly enough for your ears this time. That was easy enough for you to find. Probably. You hadn't seen a library in a long time.

"I'll see what I can do for you, hm?" You offer, not wanting to promise anything, just in case.

"Okay." He states plain as day. Conversing with kids was hard. So straight to the point most of them.

You stood back, heading for a small, dry rock to plant yourself on as you watched 'Uncle' Arthur verse Jack in the ways of fishing.

He seemed to catch on quick as they cast their rods out.

The whole setting by the river and birds achatter while Jack and Arthur were fishing, admittedly was the most calm you'd had for some time.

"I think you got a bite, look!"

The tranquil prattle ahead turned into excited calls from the both of them, your eyes drawing to the water to see what they spotted.

Arthur exclaims the same as Jack. "Fish on the line!" Safe to say, you hadn't seen Arthur like this at all before.

He reeled the line in as best he could as he fought with the thing, said thing, giving quite the scrimmage for its freedom against Arthur.

That was another learning chance for Jack, Arthur teaching him more tips along the reeling he was doing.

Once he had it close enough, he yanked it out. A dinky little thing, no bigger than your hand.

You let out a small snicker at his prize, one that perhaps wasn't worth the fight.

Arthur shoots you a look over his shoulder before holding it up to show Jack. "Look Jack, it's a bluegill! Almost as small as you."

Another small laugh came out of you at Arthurs laid-back teasing with Jack, who didn't seem much for the joke.

He threw the fish back in and cast his line back out, a short silence before Jack became disheartened with not catching anything. Wasn't long after that, he wanted to take a break, which was your time to strike.

As Jack strode a few feet away to a small patch of grass and flowers, you came up behind Arthur.

Your hand gripped above Arthurs shoulder, who jolted with your sudden arrival and touch just above his wound. "You see those guns on my saddle?"

He glowered at you next to him, glancing back and then to you again.

"I'll fish for you, get something bigger." You smile with raised eyebrows, feigning innocence over your cocky attitude.

Handing over the rod reluctantly, he went back unwilling to your mount to collect your guns. "Dont reckon you'll catch much better than me."

"Reckon I will. Dont doubt me yet."

"Too late for that."

You shake your head, switching your position to that of one you'd assume a professional would take. Likely it wasn't anyway.

"You got gun oil, or do I gotta use my own?" He gripes while he sat down in the distance between you and Jack, your shotgun and rifle in hand.

"Count it along my drinks you owe me." Gun oil was dirt cheap, and you didn't feel too bad if he had to use his own.

He grumbles something with a shake of his head and a quick venture into his satchel to grab some out. "I'm almost out since someone used most of it on my guns yesterday."

"They're clean, aren't they?" There was a chance you'd used a bit extra, but some of his guns were extra dirty, you shrugged. "We have to go to town soon anyways."

"Yes, we do." He was quick with his response, but both you knew your bounties would need to be paid off first. You just didn't want to arise any curiosity from Jack.

"I think you got a bite, y/n!" Jack points to the slight splashing in the water, just then finally paying mind to the tugging and whipping your head back around.

Bantering with Arthur distracted you from an activity you hadn't done for quite some time, something that you could agree with Jack on, was boring.

You reeled and pulled carefully, tugging the fish closer each time it stopped fighting. It took forever, and your full focus.

Just when you thought it finally conceded your attempt at yanking it to the surface, it pulled with vigor that near startled you.

"Dont loose it now, y/n." Arthur chortles behind you with his typical grating voice, the type that nearly lost you the fish.

As the fish finally slipped out of the water, you prepared yourself for the teasing you already knew you'd get from Arthur.

You could hear him chuckling evil. Both because of the fish but your confidence in your fishing ability. "Good thing we aint relying on you to eat."

"You weren't doin' much better than I was." Begrudgingly setting the small fish go before setting out the line again. You already felt like giving up. "I prefer fishin' in lakes anyway."

"I dont think you prefer fishin most of the time 'anyway'." His voice was much closer now, his steps near silent in the sand as he crept up on you.

"I fare better with guns, I suppose." You clicked your tongue disappointed that the fish proved Arthur right and your confident position started to slump. "Did you leave my guns in the sand?" You ask as you turn to give Arthur a look and your guns a glance.

Arthur was much closer than you anticipated, which somewhat shocked you. Not quite realizing how close he had actually gotten.

"Your guns are fine, but here." His chest suddenly met your back, and his hands finding themselves over yours. "You need to hold the rod like this."

You raise a cynical brow. Firstly, not realizing there was a wrong way to hold a rod, but secondly wondering why he was helping you physically, not just with his words.

The words you thought of saying prevented by another bite on the line. Jack calling it out again.

The sudden jerking caused Arthur to back up and let you at it, returning back to the guns he had left on the rock and thankfully not in the sand.

If you were not mistaken, the fight from this fish gave you hope that it was larger, but with that hope, a dread that your line was about to snap.

Arthur and Jack stayed just as silent as you, everyones sole focus on the splashing in the water as it wrangled closer to shore.

The splashes through the water made it hard to see how big it was on the surface, but you prayed and prayed it was big.

Finally, the splashing quit, and the fish revealed itself. The scales shone and glimmered in the sun as it wriggled in protest.

You looked over to them with dismay, both of them with a smile on their faces. "You think Pearson would be proud of me for this one?"

"No." Jack was quick to reply simply and truthfully, though a bit of a giggle mixed in as he fiddled with small red flowers in his lap.

"Pearson would be proud of himself if he caught the first one you had." Arthur chuckles along with Jack, finishing with your guns.

You couldn't help but laugh with them through the disappointment of another small catch.

As you threw the fish back into the water, Jack drew both yours and Arthurs' attention. "Hey, look at this."

"At what?" Arthur asks, walking back up to him.

You traipsed closer to get a better look, Jack holding up a necklace of flowers for display. "This necklace I made." Proud as could be.

"Necklace?" Arthur squints as he bends down to examine closer.

"For momma." Jack answers with a soft grip on it, cautious to not break any of the delicately knotted stems.

"That's sweet, Jack." You smile, impressed with his intricate craft. "Not even I can do that."

"Really?" He asked like it was something everyone knew how to do.

You handed back the rod to Arthur, who started deconstructing it for you. "I never learned properly -"

"What a fine young man." Interrupted a slithery voice behind you, which had you and Arthur both startling upright. "And in such complex circumstances."

In front of you had arrived two well-dressed men, dismounting and calmly floating to where the three of you stood.

"Arthur, isn't it? Arthur Morgan?" His tone and initial dialog was easy to be judged and labeled with ill-intent. The badges on their fancy and clean coats weren't helping either. "I think I've seen your face on a wanted poster or two, as well, miss." Now he directed, unexpectedly at you.

"Who are you?" Arthur made sure Jack was behind you and him, a sheild of sorts.

You already knew this wasn't business either of you wanted Jack hearing.

Arthur already had the same idea, both your eyes meeting, and with a small nod of agreement, you scooped up Jack as the man with a badge of the law spoke to Arthur.

Jack seemed confused as you walked away with him, your mind running with whatever would come out to distract him until you got out of earshot.

"Listen, I know I'm an O'Driscoll, but how 'bout we set our differences aside for a moment?" You ask softly, listening the best you could to the man as the distance silenced him. "Could you teach me how to make one of those necklaces?"

Jack contemplated you as he slowly slid out of your arms, your muscles ready to cramp. "Okay. But who are those men?"

You weren't even sure yourself, quite honestly. Whistling your horse over from where she stood grazing. "No one to worry about." You assured in the most comforting tone you could manage.

Now tagging along just for clean guns wasn't a bad idea, after all. You liked the boy, and avoiding any unnecessary trauma inflicted on him was the least you could do.

-

Arthur spread a gob of leather conditioner over your saddle that sat over his lap as you both sat at the table together.

You eyed him every so often. Occasionally, he did too, both making eye contact for a few moments. His eyes burned, and so did his pride.

The soup you ate while sitting in pensive silence with Arthur tasted even better while you watched him run the rag across your saddle.

If he hadn't made you chop so much wood yesterday, then youd've been sure to make him do some too, but as of right now, only splinters and small chunks of wood sat left.

Every time his eyes met yours, you gave him a content grin, which seemed to only peeve him off more.

"There'll be a time where I wipe that smile off your face." He growls at you from across the table. His movements with the rag getting more rough in his frustration with you. "Why are you sitting here, anways? I've seen enough of you for a day."

You stared at him for a moment before deciding to finish your soup, not bothering to retort first. "You remember when we were fishing just earlier?" You pointed your spoon at him all accusatory, sly, and teasing.

"Yes? I dont forget that fast." Then his anger fell, his head slowly turning to meet your look. His eyes squinted, and his lips pressed together when he realized where you were going with this. "Dont even start."

A slow chuckle started out of you as he tried to cease the progression of something worse with just a glare. "Was I actually holding that rod wrong?" You weren't direct. You wanted to see if he had an explanation.

"It's hard to hold something so simple wrong, yet you still did it."

Now you were confused, coming to a stand and traipsing over to his side, replaying your stance with an imaginary rod for a second. "You're right about the first part. But I wasn't holding it not normal?"

He looked up at you from under his hat, the darkness setting over the land making it harder to see his eyes.

"I think you just wanted an excuse." The crack at your lips grew with each time you teased without any specifics. He knew exactly what you were on about.

"Oh, for what?" His hand relaxed on the rag, now his full attention solely on you.

"Not even being an O'Driscoll seems to matter anymore." You acted all vaunt, but in truth, you weren't completely dead positive yet.

He raised his head up more to see you better underneath his worn hat. Your teasing didn't seem to completely anger him now, a sarcastic tug at his lips revealed itself. "Felt bad for the only lady who doesn't know how to fish proper."

You hissed out a small laugh, one that acknowledged him, but not one of letting him have the last laugh. "Maybe you felt bad for shooting me, so you gave me your best interpretation of a warm embrace."

That earned you a sharp chuckle, scoffing at your counter. "Save your nonsense for when we get our drinks."

"Then you best save your speakin' in general for that, Morgan." Shaking your head, you step up close to see the progress on your saddle.

"Sure, princess." He turned his head down and away to hide his face under the cover of his hats brim, the rag in his hand returning to its work.

You studied him sitting in front of you, thinking of anything that might annoy him more.

Your hand met his cheek, guiding his face to look back up at you. Not a peep or resistance from him, just sturdy and stern eye contact.

"You missed a spot." Pointing with your other hand to a small area in the dim candle light from the table.

Now his face felt warm, wether in reaction to your first gesture or anger at your words, you didn't know.

Your hand left his face, pushing down his hat over his face as you turned to leave. "When you're done, I'll have found something more for you to do."

---

The scene with Jack is not alluding to a pregnancy trope, I promise 🤞

#arthur morgan #red dead redemption arthur #red dead redemption two #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x you #rdr2 #rdr2 fanfic #red dead fanfic #enemies to lovers #lemon fanfic #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan fanfiction #rdr2arthur #rdr

[makriiii]

[makriiii]

[makriiii]

Caught XI (Arthur Morgan × f!reader)

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: 18+, gun violence, angst, cursing.

♡

Caught XI

By the time you had gotten up and out of bed, Arthur was already out of camp. Though it was beyond you as to why, being as hungover as he should be.

You were sure that hangover would be enough to keep him out of the game for a while, but he wasn't so inclined to let up.

It was a good reason for you to make a quick trip to Valentine. You felt so close to winning this.

Being determined to win was an understatement. You had had enough of all his shit, and you wanted him silenced. If he was a man of his word, of course.

As you scoped out the exterior of the doctor's place, you hitched your horse, walking discreetly to the back.

While you made your way to the back, you thought on how you were to go about this. The sheriff's place was a neighbor. A very close neighbor at that.

Guns would make a lot of noise, and you'd be likely caught if you weren't careful or quick.

Though the consequences of it was dwarfed in comparison to the aspect of winning. Seeing the look on that man's face. It'd be worth the jail time, and he'd probably leave you in there.

The back had a small jutting out building, which you strode around as inconspicuous as possible.

There was a large metal door, one with a slit at the top. You were tempted to knock, but whether you'd be met by a gun or not, you couldn't tell.

The sheriffs place right behind you both gave you confidence to knock, and the dread that they were so close.

Raising your hand to knock, a figure from the corner of your eye slips around the behind of the building you had just come from, grabbing you so fast it was as if to stop you from setting off a bomb.

Their hand situated over your mouth, and your arms held tight, you struggled greatly in their grasp.

"Quit it." An all too familiar voice. What the hell was he doing? "And hold still."

You relaxed in his grip, turning your head to look back at him. He still held you tight from behind as you met your eye with his.

You gave him your most unenthusiastic look of shock and fear. "Please, oh please, let me go, sir."

He held you back, his hand still slightly over your mouth as he hid you behind the wall where the door wasn't facing.

"Shut up." He growls, finally letting you go with a stumble. "If you had knocked, they'd for sure catch on."

"Have you already knocked then?" You tried your best to stay calm, infuriated that he got here before you.

"Yes? Why is your ass here?"

"I got lost." Fighting with him was now unintentionally your focus, and you hated how he took it.

He sighs deeply, closing his eyes in defeat for a second as he brushes hair back from under his hat. "I was here first."

"I should've been. You're supposed to be hungover?"

"I am." He grumbles, holding his head as he impatiently speaks to you.

"Do us both a favor, and go back to camp. Rest your head."

"No?" A disbelieving scoff blew out of him. He got closer to you on the wall, standing over you with harsh eye contact. "You might as well get back to camp. Wait for me so I can tell you what you're gonna get to do for me."

You should've left his ass for the sheriff to take in, shaking your head with regret. "You would've been behind bars if not for me."

He gives you a weird look, one of confusion. One that certainly prompted some reflection on the night before. "That's your mistake then."

"What a lovely 'thank you'." Now you stepped closer to him, your stances more akin to a stand-off.

"Why do we have to bring this up now? Just get outta here and let me deal with this."

"I'm not going anywhere. I figured this out on my own. First or not, I'm doing it."

"That isn't going to pan out for our bid, and I'm not letting you steal this."

You shrugged your shoulders, glancing around for anyone's prying eyes as you bickered with Arthur. "I didn't agree to this with a mind of losing. You're doing what I say."

He chuckles lowly, a patronizing and sinister sound. "You're gonna be doing what I say in a hot minute here."

"'Sure, big boy. You got here first, but if I play it first, it doesn't matter, does it?" With that, you walked past him, halfway to getting your bandana on before a sharp pain runs up your arm.

You spun around, slapping his arm off of your wound. "I'm gonna make it so bad for you once I get this over with."

"Shut your mouth, darling, for a second." His hands on your shoulder kept you in place, granting him a few moments of your time for his proposal. "There's a lot of your old friends in there. Sheriff is next store."

You raised your brows, ushering him on with an impatient look.

"We do this together and split the two days."

Crossing your arms, you gave it some thought. It'd be safer, sure, but having to split the days...

"Only if my day starts now, I'll do as you say, but you don't get a full day."

He hisses something under his breath with your terms. "I'll make sure to fit everything in. Gonna be miserable for you."

"Oh, I know." You acknowledge all too quickly. You knew that well, as you were definitely going to do the same. "So, how are we doing this?"

"Gotta stick up the doctor." Now he was walking past you and back to the front of the doctor's place.

You nodded. Despite wanting to do this for yourself, having him here gave you more confidence. As much as you hated his guts, he was skilled.

He didn't go straight in, instead grabbing rope off his saddle and handing it to you.

Arthur didn't tell you what it was for, but you had a good guess.

His heavy shoulder on the door had it flying outward just as his gun when he cocked it back and pointed it at the open-mouthed doctor.

The doctor started sputtering out sounds, but Arthur was quick to interrupt his not yet even formed words.

"Let's see what's in that back room of yours." Arthurs tone demanding and rattling. With it, you were just glad you weren't on the receiving end of it again.

The doctor had his hands up nervous and shaking as he treaded toward the back with a warning. "Sir, please, you don't want to get involved with them. I promise."

You just stood there, rope in hand, waiting for the next thing as Arthur threatened the man if he didn't make them open up.

Once the doctor got close enough, you both followed him into the back room.

"Don't try anything funny." Arthur added, standing away and out of sight from the door.

"Yeah, it's only the doc." Mumbles a man from behind the door. He sounded like the same one you ran into at the bar.

As soon as the door swung open, Arthur waves the doctor to you, to which you start hogtying and reminding to stay quiet.

Arthur waits for you, and when you finished, gestured his head to have you get closer.

He peeks around the corner for a very short second before giving you a number.

Holding up four fingers, he reaches for his shotgun, but not without difficulty with his shoulder.

He certainly was having a harder time with his hangover and his bullet wound, his movements lagging and his head no doubt aching.

Not even a moment's grace was given before Arthurs' voice bellowed again, startling you into pointing your gun out.

"Looks like a nice little business you got going back here." Before your ears were filled with the sounds of raining gunfire.

Two on the couch, one at the desk, and another on the bed in the back.

You let Arthur get the second two as you took the two on the couch. It went fast, very fast, with the two of you working together.

"Alright, hurry." Arthur gravitated to the money on the table fast as a fly while you took a moment longer to look around.

You went to the other side of the table while Arthur inspected the safe. A wooden case sat at the end of the table, which, luckily, didn't have a lock.

Opening it revealed a rather nice pistol, but the novelty of it was quick to be waned when you heard someone from the outside yell.

"We know you're in there. Come out now!" Came the voice. The law, of course, no surprise there.

Arthur started walking out, which confused you until you heard a fuse. Your eyes widened once your gaze fell on the safe.

You dropped down behind the table for some cover, cursing Arthurs' day of birth.

He had a small chuckle from it, making it clear it was intentional not to have you know until it was nearly blown.

Silent footsteps came from the front room until Arthur sent another bullet flying.

A sheriff who got too close met his end at the doors entranceway before he could have made yours and Arthur's end.

"Shit, we gotta get outta here." He hurries to the safe again and grabs a few more stacks of money. As he does, you cautiously get into the front of the store, crouching down behind the wall.

"I see three, or so, from the balcony up there." You report, pointing your finger with a bit of concern.

With that, you reposition yourself carefully and took out another one, and right as you aimed for the second, Arthur started gallivanting straight out.

He shot the other two before any more bullets could've been received, as stupid as it was impressive.

There was some distant yelling, yelling that you couldn't quite tell from town folk or lawmen, but either way, it didn't matter.

You and Arthur both booked it to your horses, frantically turning them out of town as soon as you mounted.

Both of you were low in the saddle, careful for more whizzing bullets, but so far, it seemed there weren't too many lawmen out and around in Valentine and you'd taken out the most important few.

"We should split up for now." You suggest over your shoulder as your horses passed out of town with a gallop.

"So you can run off and not hold up your end of the bargain?"

You gave him a chuckle over the sound of loud hoofbeats and shouts from the town. "Don't give me ideas."

"Unfortunately, you get those ideas yourself." He jeers with a smirk he couldn't help but have. The adrenaline, the successful robbery, and evading the law, all had a hand in the better mood you both were in.

"You're the reason I have them." You retort with the most truthful tone you could have with him.

"How 'bout you give me some ideas on what I should make you do?"

Now you chuckled in disbelief. "I will not do that."

"Oh yes, you will. What did we agree on?"

You grumbled a deep sigh, dissipating your laughter. Your pride was certainly getting knocked down a few levels today, especially since you were so confident last night that you'd be the winning party.

"How about you make me go eat?" It was less of a suggestion and more of a request, as that was your ideal activity.

"So, first, you can clean my saddle and guns." He completely left your ventured idea ignored, a shit eating grin plastered on his face, one that matched his laugh before all of this. "Then, I'll have you chop some wood too... feed the horses, and brush mine."

Your mouth got slightly wider with each thing he came up with. No doubt he'd be likely to come up with even more soon.

He snickered when he saw your face of despair, grim with all the possibilities he could come up with.

"Whatever you do to me today forecasts your tomorrow."

"If you're not too tired to tell me what to do." Oh, he was so full of himself, smug with a true hand over the O'Driscoll that made his life more difficult ever since she unwillingly showed up.

It was his turn now, and he was sure to make it count.

"Do your worst, Arthur." Challenging him now maybe wasn't the best idea, but you did.

That seemed to ignite something in him, just by the look on his face. It was more than cocky, hubristic as all hell.

"You want me to, girl?

"Nothing I can't do to you." You shrug with feigned confidence. Truthfully, you weren't excited for what he was gonna make you do.

-

"I don't wanna see you stop, y/n." Arthur eggs you on while he sits entirely relaxed back by the table, coffee mug in hand.

You could feel blisters on your hands start to form from the axe you had been swinging for the past half an hour or so.

His words were barely acknowledged as the axe cracked down the middle of another log. He had made sure to find you extra wood that he'd come and drop by every time you got down to the last two or three.

Arthur had been breathing down your neck ever since you, with much regret, actually came back to camp.

You were looking for an excuse to have a break from this all as he was certainly not ready to give you one. Evident by the more than content look on his face.

This was punishment, really, but punishment that was soon to wane when Ms. Grimshaw sauntered up to you both, hands on her hips and giving Arthur a dirty look.

"You've been workin' that poor girl all day, Arthur." She started defending you, which filled you with much glee. Not the glee that she was helping you out of this situation, but rather that your O'Driscoll nature was starting to be overlooked. "She may be an O'Driscoll, but she saved you just days ago."

Arthur considered her observation, and seemed ready to sympathize, but was quick to reconsider when you dropped the axe lazily to the side, giving him a stare filled with the first haughty look you had enough backing to give him.

"Thank you, Ms. Grimshaw." Uplifted by your savior, you started seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. A break.

"She's holding up her end of the bargain, Ms. Grimshaw. " He stops you with a wave of his hand. "I didn't say you could stop, O'Driscoll?"

"But-" You excuse with desperation, rubbing your stinging hands with gentle comfort.

"Finish the wood, and you can."

"No, I don't think so."

"Careful with that attitude, y/n. It's the reason why you're doing extra."

You glare at him with tired eyes and blow him off. "Your day tomorrow, Arthur. You're forgetting about that."

"I'm not too worried." He dismisses with arrogance. Arrogance he'd most definitely lose tomorrow. "I told you I was gonna make you do a full day's work anyway."

"All that wood is definitely a week's worth."

He couldn't disagree with that as he mocked you with a chuckle, which would've peeved you off more if you weren't so tired. "Fine then. But my drinks."

"Oh, sure. We can go back into town now, turn each other in." The robbery went well, sure, but not so well that there wasn't a chance that someone would recognize you.

"They don't know what we look like. If someone asks, we just say no."

You stood there with the possibility of capture floating in your head, and maybe he was right. However, you had been seen by the doctor, and he'd been left alive.

"Do you really want to drink again after last night?" With a raised brow and a slight smile from the memories of last night, you questioned him.

He could tell instantly why you were smiling, even though he had trouble remembering most of it. "I feel like you'll weasel out of it otherwise."

"Much rather pay for your drinks than do that."

"Alright." He finally cuts you slack. "Tomorrow then." Though he did good at hiding it under his hat, he was tired, between being shot and hungover, you understood how that felt.

"What if I want drinks tomorrow?" He must've considered this already. Tomorrow was your day to make him pay.

He leans his head back languidly, frustrated with you bringing that up now. "We'll pay for each others."

With that, he went to sleep early. Trailing off to his bed, praying for no more guff from you, but you didn't let up.

"I hope you sleep good Arthur, because tomorrow won't be so kind."

He shoots you an irritated look, but otherwise leaves it at that, leaving you to finally have a break.

---

It has occurred to me that the plot got lost at least 8 eps ago and now this stories only direction is into Arthurs pants 😔

#arthur morgan #red dead redemption arthur #red dead redemption two #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x you #rdr2 #rdr2 fanfic #red dead fanfic #enemies to lovers #lemon fanfic #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan fanfiction

[makriiii]

[makriiii]

Caught X (Arthur Morgan × f!reader)

Word count: 2.6k

Warnings: 18+, cursing, angst, alcohol.

♡

Caught X

There were quite a few O'Driscolls scattered about in town, which you did your best to avoid despite being the ones you were interested in.

It was really only from an outside perpective did you realize that you were like an ant in the gang. Also that different branches of the gang were spread around like an ants colony.

You'd been asking around all day in town for any leads, but so far, most would just point to the random O'Driscolls and warn you of their tendencies.

Their tendencies you were more than aware of. That wasn't what you needed to know, though.

The sun was near gone beyond the horizon, and you were beat. It was this day you realized why you became an outlaw rather than the law.

You didn't want to investigate crime. You actually preferred to commit it. It was certainly a lot of work; you were parched, and because of that, Smithfields was looking real nice.

The lights from the inside of the bar grew as the suns light waned, and the happy cheers and shouts from the inside drew you in.

Acrost the muddy lane through the middle of town, you went right up to the bar and through the swinging doors.

It was rather busy. The entire counter was just about full, and unfortunately, one of the men taking up space was a man you knew all too well.

You strode straight up to him, pushing him off to the side, but in that, you accidently bumped the man to your left.

"Hey, watch yourse-" The man with a heavy irish accent paused mid sentence.

He elbows his friend next to him to get his attention, his face of anger filling with a more provocative look.

"Excuse me." You offer, backing off. With that accent, he might very well be an O'Driscoll. A green scarf and tattered trench coat - often idicitive of one.

Arthurs gaze met yours, and you could already tell something was off.

With his close proximity to you, you scrunched your nose at the smell that came off him.

"God, you stink." You hold your nose, shaking your head as you pop a coin to the bartender. "How long have you been in here?"

He couldn't even answer before the man grabbed your shoulder and pointed you toward him.

"You certainly don't dress like a normal call girl."

You shrugged him off, ignoring him and turning back to Arthur.

Arthurs brows were low, an irked look on his face. At first, you couldn't tell if he was mad at you or not. But his eyes remained fixed past you.

He walks around to your left and inserts himself into the spot you just were, putting distance between you and the man.

The guy started mumbling angry curses, who needed many words of calm from his friend to lay off.

"So..." Arthur interrupts himself by taking another swig of his drink. "Dare I ask if you found anything out?"

His words were slow coming out, and you could tell he was tipping over the point of tipsy.

"Dare I even tell you? I dont think you'll even remember."

He chuckles, a drunken hiccuping coming out along with his laughs. "Perfect time to tell me in that case."

You scoffed, a smile tugging up at your lips with his attitude. Last time, you were too drunk to really process what he was like. Now you could.

"What do you reckon I've found out?" You question, delying the confession of not having found out a lot.

He tips his head back, trying to come up with an answer. Certainly, you didn't expect much.

"I reckon..." He trails off before snickering with an evil little tone you hated. "Well, you tell me. You're his special girl."

That again? It was such an old joke now. Maybe you felt like bullshitting him, maybe. "I'm married, you know. Not to Colm.

There it was. He swiveled his head around to meet his widened eyes with yours. Though he was quick to dismiss it when he grabbed your hand for confirmation.

"Someone steal your ring then?"

You pulled your hand out of his, giving yourself a few seconds of thought. "Should I wear one with the line of work I'm in?"

He squints his eyes at you, though his stare didn't stay strong, just like his stance. He wobbled on his feet as he considered you.

"You're lyin'. You wouldn't be runnin around with us if that were the case." He assured.

You took another drink but made sure to keep your alcohol consumption low. The hangover you had last time was awful.

"Sometimes I'll take a vacation, I guess." You nodded as you went along, doing your utmost to sell the fib.

He stared at you for a moment, then started chugging the rest of his drink. It was only then did you start over hearing the man with the heavy accent talk.

Something about the town doctor and money, from what you could catch, straining your ears for it.

"Whats he like then?" Arthur blurts suddenly, the eavesdropping interrupted.

"He's like you. Infuriating."

He wouldn't stop chuckling with your conversation. "I'm starting to see a pattern then."

You cock your head at him, questioning him with just a look. "What's that suppose to mean?"

Setting his bottle down, he leaned in closer which started making you nervous.

"You say I'm Infuriating yet want my pants off."

You were stupefied with his nonsense, glancing around for any weird looks indicating that he was heard by someone rather than you.

"And you keep making bogus claims!" You hiss with a low tone. "For someone who doesn't like O'Driscolls, you certainly like to pretend I'm flirting with you in a strange way." Requoting yourself from many days ago.

His blue eyes were firey, reflecting the gas lights that lit the bar, never once leaving your gaze.

"Yeah... I think I've figured you out. I wish you would just say it though. That'd be a whole lot easier."

You groaned, this made you prefer being drunk. Then you could actually deal with this all.

Listening in on the supposed O'Driscolls was your more desired activity and you could barely hear them from where you were.

Arthur had a chair in front of him, one he had unknowingly decided not to use, but you were deciding to use it.

It was close enough, but not so close that they'd mess with you again.

"So then?" Slipping under his arm, you sat facing him, his arms that held him up on the counter cased you in. "What if I did just say it?"

Now his head was tilted down to look at you, his one brow up questioning you slightly taken aback. Definitely did not expect this. "That's most definitely a flirt."

"No it aint? Its a what-if scenario."

Most of your attention was focused to the side, therefore you didn't give Arthur much of it, but you could feel his eyes burning into you.

There was more random murmurs, the two likely O'Driscolls had made sure to keep their voices down however. It scorned you, to say the least.

"You think your husband like to see you sitting right where you are?" Arthurs voice chimed again, his words ran shivers down your spine, it was really only then you felt suffocated being under him like this.

You leaned your head over slightly, your mouth opening to speak, but you got distracted by the men ending their conversation and heading outside.

Arthur noticed where your attention laid and directed it back to him with his hand cupping your chin and pointing your face to his.

You took his hand away, as he forced eye contact. Anxious eye contact. Your eyes darting away to the men who were slipping out of your sight. "Sorry, what was it you said?"

He hums something and then goes back to it. "Why are you in front of me like this?" His demeanor becoming slightly more demanding.

You looked up at him now, getting fidgety when you realized your faces were much closer than you had thought. "My husband wouldn't mind much, if thats what youre after."

Leaning under his arm and out of the seat, you started making for the door.

Arthurs arm around you swiftly halts your efforts.

"Do you actually have a husband?" There was a hint of desperation in his question as he held you for balance. "I think you'd have to find someone even more annoying than yourself to get married to."

You struggle to pry his arm off of you as he was on you pretty iron. "If I'm ever widowed I'll make sure to come to you then, eh? Now let me go please."

He roars out another deep chuckle and pulls you in firm, your head pressed into the side of his chest, surpressing some of the steam coming out of your ears.

"See? Its my pants you're after, after all."

His words boomed as your hand flew up to block anymore words he'd spew. Again examining nearby bar-goers.

"Your desire for me to want to is blinding the unfortunate truth for you." Not only were you convincing him, but yourself.

You ducked out of his near chokehold on you and quickened your pace as you escaped him out the doors. The chilly night air cooling your burning face.

He throws his hand out, dismissing your parting message as he dissappears behind you with the swinging doors.

Now the men were in sight again, but not for long as they made way to the doctors place across the street.

Once they were inside, you snuck over, glancing around for prying eyes before sneaking up to the windows and peaking through.

The words from inside were muffled, definitely no hope in hearing it now.

The two men spoke to the reluctant doctor for a minute before he took them to the back, which was out of your sight from the window.

You started creeping to the other window when a round of shouting startled you to high hell.

Two men were outside yelling at eachother, and lord, did you hate them for it now, for as soon as you turned your head back, the doctor was back in his spot, and the men gone.

Arthurs tall frame was a hard one to mistake as he stumbled around, angry as a hornet, pointing fingers and spilling his drink. The opposer, maybe not as drunk, but still enough to be willing to fight Arthur.

They brawled for a short while before you stomped right up the stairs, yanking Arthur by the wrist. "He's much too drunk for his own good, forgive us." You prayed for grace, which the other man did not seem to grant.

"Do him some good to stay the hell outta here!" His one finger pointed but had the rest on his bottle. He stumbled closer to you like he wasnt going to let it go but instead slipped back into the bar clumsily.

You slap Arthur's chest, frustrated with his drunken activities interrupting your lead. "Im gonna poke you."

"I'll poke you?" He laughs haughty knowing he also has that on you, rubbing his jaw after getting punched.

"Yours will hurt more. Its fresh."

He slumps over leans on you again, stumbling in the muck that covered the ground almost making you loose your balance too. You lead him carefully back to the doctors office, as you had some questions.

You helped him up the stairs and then got his arm off you again. "Stay right here, you belligerent drunk. Right here." Standing him right outside the door, you reluctantly left him there.

Giving him one last glare, you slid inside, inspecting it slowly whilst you strode up to the doctor.

"What can I do for you, ma'am?" He greets with a classic.

You considered your question for a second as you reached the front desk. "I'm a bounty hunter lookin for a few O'Driscolls..."

He shifted uncomfortably immediately at your talk, which was exactly what you were looking for.

"I'm sure you know of them in town but theres a specific two I think just visited here."

"No, I'm sorry." He murmured quickly before walking you out. "Its about closing time. Im afriad you'll have to ask someone else."

Confused and slightly shocked at that sudden display of nerves, you found yourself outside again. An outside with no Arthur standing there waiting like he should've been.

This alarmed you, as he was likely to get into trouble. It was like watching a child but a child who could shoot, steal and otherwise plunder and inflict a good deal of damage. Which you'd be likely to be dragged into.

"Arthur!" You shouted, jogging out into the street and spinning circles as you searched for him.

From behind the buildings you heard yelling and unfortunately you knew who was getting yelled at.

You mounted your mare quickly, riding towards the hollering, by the auction site and the barn.

Arthurs shaky running was quick to catch your eye, as well as him screeching something about being an American - to the left and to your dread, what seemed to be lawmen.

Yanking up your bandana, you rode to Arthur, stopping just infront of him.

"Hurry!" You usher, your mare dancing underneath you as she felt your desire to be getting out of this town fast.

"y/n!" Lovely of him to shout your name infront of the sheriff. He jumped on, but only half way before slipping off again.

"Quit helping him or you're gonna be an accessory!" A man yells, getting concerningly close to you.

Yeah. You already figured that much as you struggled to pull Arthur up. The man who had fought with Arthur strayed behind the lawmen, giving away the fact he'd been the snitch.

Finally Arthur got up, clutching onto you dearly as you dropped the reins and let your horse fly.

More shouts came from behind you. The kind you've heard plenty of times - stop, get them, youre gonna get it, etc... As long as you had enough time to get lost, all would be okay.

"What did I tell you?" You grumble to Arthur who sat hiccuping behind you.

"I dont know." He replies shortly, had he been on his own horse, he'dve been in the laws hands already. He looked like he was about to fall off had he not been holding onto you.

The moonlight lit your way on the prairie and out of Valentine, when you figured it safe enough, you headed back for camp.

-

Once you got back, you hitched and pulled Arthur down, helping him to his tent.

"You better remember the part where I saved you. I want compensation for that." You'd be sure to remind him in the morning of course even if he did. Probably the next few mornings too.

"Ahuh. You can have my pants."

"Quit with all that!" You growl, atleast this time Seans singing hopefully drowned him out good.

You got him to his bed, but as he fell into it he didn't let you go, which made you crumple half on him, partly on his bed, and partly hanging off the side.

Sitting there for a second as he relaxed his grip, you groaned. Next time you'd make sure to get as drunk as he did. "Let me go, you stink."

His arm slid off the side of you, allowing you the ability to get up again, mumbling out a small curse at him and brushing yourself off.

He was already conked out there on the bed. So drunk he slept like a baby that hadnt' almost been arrested and put you through much grief.

The days were never dull in the Van Der Linde camp. Especially not when dealing with Arthur.

---

Tempted to make him bear hug you so you had to stay there 😔

#arthur morgan #red dead redemption arthur #red dead redemption two #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x you #rdr2 #rdr2 fanfic #red dead fanfic #enemies to lovers #lemon fanfic #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan fanfiction

[makriiii]

Caught IX (Arthur Morgan × f!reader)

Word count: 2.5k

Authors notes: ao3 is messin' about, so I'll upload this there when it quits with all that 😭

Warnings: 18+, blood, cursing, angst.

♡

Caught IX

You huffed in a few breaths, watching another horse bolt away after leaving its rider for dead.

Everything happened so fast. Your heart beating faster than a horse at a gallop as you collected your thoughts for a mere second.

Your head swiveled around to Arthur, who sat up against a tree, his hand clamped around his shoulder.

You didn't waste another beat getting to him, your chest tightening at the sight of crimson spreading across his button-up. You knew more than well what that had felt like.

"There's still gauze in my bag." He breathes out. His voice more labored, and his voice rough.

You scrambled around in his bag, each of his exhales and groans behind you, making you work faster.

"Just, hang on, Arthur..." You trail off, kneeling down to his arm. You hesitate as your hands hovered over his chest - his buttons needed unbuttoning.

His eyes were plastered to you, that much you could feel as you worked your way down.

He sucked in through his teeth when you moved his hand.

Warm, deep red painted your fingertips, and honestly, you couldn't help but feel a bit squeamish at the sight of broken flesh.

"This'll hurt, I'll bet. Since you aint passed out."

"Unfortunately." He grunts, squeezing his eyes once your hands met his wound.

Gently, you packed the wound with the gauze, mumbling small comforts to Arthur. And every time you did, it felt strange to you, yet you didn't stop until you had wrapped the bandage tightly.

"A little lower, and we could've matched." You gave a slight smile, trying to calm your own nerves with a joke.

"Suppose it's my retribution." He leans his head back with an exasperated sigh before he lets you help him up to his feet.

"Yeah, what's it now? Two to one?"

He grumbles something, but his paindd smile didn't leave, looking away before staring you in the eye.

"It's technically two - two. Flat even."

You give him a contemplative hum as you helped him up to your mount. "Said yourself the first one dont count."

He shakes his head, his breathing calming the longer you spoke to him.

"I take that back. Calling it even." He makes a movement with his now injured shoulder, wincing with regret as he fully came to terms with having to break with using it for now.

You gave him a chuckle, standing him just before your horse. Both of your hands were covered in blood that was now drying.

You grabbed for your flask, giving your hands a quick wash. You weren't sure what you'd do about your shirt, feeling a bit of guilt for getting them stained so quickly.

Motioning his hands out, you poured a steady stream, water replacing the previous liquid.

Once you returned your flask back, your hands found the side of your hips. Eyeing him up and down inquisitively, doing your most to mask the worry.

"How are we supposed to get you on the back of my horse?" You clearly referenced his freshly bullet bitten shoulder.

He scoffs, furrowing his brows with your words. "I'm not that badly incapacitated."

You nod all cocky like, waiting for him to prove himself.

He shoots you a look while preparing himself before pulling himself up.

He bit back a grunt of pain as he returned himself back to the spot he had been beforehand.

"Alright." You gave a quick glance around for Arthurs horse, but the thing had already run off beyond sight. "Hold out for me until we get back to camp then."

Holding onto the horn, you pulled yourself up and turned your horse back to the direction of camp.

Arthurs' uninjured arm wrapped itself around you again. This time, you didn't mind so much.

Despite the man that he was to you, you were worried. His arm around you was meek, not like it'd been when he first got on.

The further you got, the closer Arthur got to you until his entire front laid on your back. His breathing soft, and his head resting on your shoulder.

When you looked back, he looked to be sleeping peacefully, but it alarmed you.

"Arthur?" You ask softly. Was this how you were when you passed out after getting shot? "You aint dead, are you?"

He was barely cognizant of your words or the position he was in as he near slept on you.

He mumbled out something you didn't quite catch, yet you didn't find yourself nagging him more, instead asking for a quick pace to get back to camp instead.

By the time you got to camp, Arthur was still pretty out of it, though he had enough in him to hold onto you as if he were hugging you with one arm.

You called over Ms. Grimshaw, who looked mighty confused until she spotted the blood that painted you and Arthur, releasing a gasp at the sight.

"What on earth happened?" Her voice striken with anxiety and panic, which caught the attention of Bill.

She ran up to the side of your horse as you gently removed Arthurs arm from your waist.

"Jesus christ." Bill chimes as he joins the four of you, reaching for Arthur gently who groaned as he slid off the horse with Bills help.

Ms. Grimshaw all the while inspected your handy work, which was mostly stained with blood now while Bill helped him to his bed.

More worried glances and murmurs from camp came about as you followed closely behind Arthur to his bed.

"Who was it, Arthur?" Bill questioned, his face stern and his eye firey.

"The goddamn O'Driscolls." Arthur grunts with a sigh as he hits his bed, remaining upright for Ms. Grimshaw to care for his wound.

"The raiders, now the O'Driscolls, huh?" Bill shoots you a look, but it didn't seem so accusatory, more contemplative. "Think we have enough in camp already."

Arthur gives a short chuckle, cut off by a wince when Ms. Grimshaw started prodding his wound.

When Ms. Grimshaw finally moved away to get the first aid. She walked by you and stood for a moment.

"Did you get hurt too?" She eyes your bloodied sleeve, to which you shake your head.

"No, I'm okay. Do you need any help?" You offered your hand, but you weren't sure what use you'd be made of.

She shakes her head, moving past you to gather first aid. "You got him back safe enough, I can take care of the rest."

You left it at that, and by the time you turned around, most of camp was crowded around to make sure Arthur was okay, and the ones that had already were asking you what had happened.

That's how you spent the rest of your night. Retelling the story to everyone, the feelings being very mixed. You either got blamed, or you got courtesy.

-

You'd been away for a day, hunting. Mainly to keep Arthur out of your mind. He would be more than fine, just as you had been. So you kept telling yourself.

Lucky as he was too, you didn't tie him up to a tree.

You had made it a point to hunt in the area Arthur's horse had been, which you did eventually find, to your surprise.

Now you were helping Pearson make dinner with your days catch. Anything you could really do to earn your good graces in camp.

You saw what a rough time Keiran was often given around camp, with Sean and especially Sadie. You didn't want much part of it, but you still sometimes got your share.

Arthur was the one who made up most of that share, and now you were finally with peace. Though, bickering with him certainly gave you something to do.

With the soup done, you grabbed a bowl and helped yourself before traipsing over to sit by the fire.

The flames danced and crackled before you while you sipped at your soup - with much tranquility.

"Where's mine?"

No. His voice made your face fall from its previous delight to a terribly discontent stare.

You sat there, leaving him no response while you continued on with your business.

"Oh, no back talk, huh?" You could feel his shit eating grin, you didn't even need to turn your head. "I got shot for you yesterday, I think the least you could do it get me some."

He slides in next to you on the bench, so much so that his body met yours, side by side, even sliding you to the side slightly.

The blood in your veins had to be hotter than the soup in your bowl.

Slowly, you turned your head over to him, trying your utmost to calm yourself as you did.

"Or I can just have yours -" You slapped your hand over his mouth, he looked stunned, to say the least.

He mumbled something muffled by your hand all the while he maneuvered his face around to try and get your hand off, eventually using his own to grab yours away.

"No more out of you." You scold, trying to bring your hand back to your spoon, but he wouldn't let go.

You eyed him, an eyebrow cocked up, and your wrist tense in his grasp.

"I think I'll try yours first. See if I want any." To your resistance, he uses your own hand to grab the spoon and feed himself. Your eyes wide, completely stunned.

The spoon was shakey due to your battle, but he held it still enough to get it to his mouth. Your other hand completely out of commission as you kept your soup bowl from spilling.

"Makin' me regret savin' your ass. Again."

He snickers, your jaw clenching with the shit he was pulling now.

"Oh, I'm sure. A favorite shared pastime between the both of us." He agrees, finally releasing your wrist. But, he sat there instead of getting his own dinner.

You stared at him, still unbelieving in this mans actions.

Both your eyes held contact for a few moments before he grabbed your spoon again and ate from your soup.

"What the hell?" You snatched the spoon out of his hand and slid away from him on the bench. "Do you remember what you did to me after you shot me?"

"Remind me." He offers, inching closer to you again.

You scoff, preparing yourself to prod at his wound to ward him off. "You're pushin' your luck, Arthur. A rope and a tree are in your near future."

"Yeah? I'd like to see you try." Arthur and his challenges. A challenge you'd be willing to take after you ate your dinner.

You glared at him, waiting for him to get closer so you could inflict the same pain you had felt when he'd grab at your wound.

As soon as you did, as if he knew beforehand, he deflected your arm and grabbed your spoon again with the other. When you reached for it, you accidentally slapped it out of his hand and to the floor.

"Are you gonna get that?" You grumbled at him, unimpressed with his antics.

"Nah, dont think so."

"Hold this then." Shoving the bowl into his hands but without the want of spilling it, you gave it to him more gently than desired.

You leaned over his lap, pressing into it as you reached for the spoon, one hand on his thigh to keep you steady.

He held the bowl up above you, high enough to keep you from hitting your head on it and spilling it over.

Now he looked shocked. You'd have to be kidding yourself if you didn't see red on that face.

"Thanks, cowboy." The soup now back in your hands, you scooted away from him and cleaned off your spoon.

His look of shock wore off as soon as you grabbed it. His eyes were dark with what you had just pulled.

Finally he got up and went for his own food, promtply coming straight back to where he sat before.

Your eyes kept trained on him every now and then. Whenever he moved his shoulder too much, he winced, but he did try to hide it, as far as you could tell.

He clearly wasn't enjoying being incapacitated so greatly or sitting around camp for the whole day. Restless, and annoying you with it.

The time was needed, of course, to relax. Though every time you started feeling bad for him, the memory of being tied to a tree for so long after being shot kicked into your mind.

Even now, you weren't quick to forgive him for that.

"You know, Arthur..." You consider the challenge you were conjuring in your head. "My old gang? If they're somewhere around here, we should sort em out."

He gives you his attention, but not the type where he was much interested - yet.

"I'm thinkin, whoever can find their operation first, or hideout, or whatever it is." You continue, sliding closer for him to hear the terms clearly. "Buys the other as many drinks as they please."

His head cocked at your offer, scrunching his face with confusion. "That's it? I say we make the stakes higher."

"Shh. I was getting to it." You put your finger up to his mouth again to shush him. He wasn't so happy to have your hand waving in his face again.

The longer you sat thinking up some terms, Arthur took to himself to start making up his own ideas.

"Money?" He grants, looking to you for approval.

"I think drinks is pretty close to that already."

He nods, much in agreement already with that.

"How about winner gets all the others belongings?" Now you looked to him for approval.

He furrowed his brows with thought. "You dont have much of value to me."

"Yeah, but it would be pretty funny to see you with nothing."

His eyes grow as he realized you meant everything. "First, my pants, now everything?"

Your mouth dropped, not even having thought out that he'd take it that way. "Obviously for humiliation purposes, not for my eye purposes."

A heavy chuckle erupts out of him. Your lips thinning with irritation. "Drinks, and the one who loses has to do the others bidding for two days."

That was fair enough. "Deal." You shot out your hand for a shake. His gripping yours tightly.

But immediately after, you realized maybe you should've fleshed out the details more.

"You look way too sure of yourself, y/n." He had already noticed the look of pure confidence on your face.

"Why would you say that?" Your lips parted even further, unfortunately giving yourself away.

He shakes his head, laughing. "Watch yourself, darlin'."

The others' bidding was open to a lot of possibilities - very broad. But you didn't plan on losing.

#arthur morgan #red dead redemption arthur #red dead redemption two #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x you #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 #red dead fanfic #enemies to lovers #lemon fanfic #arthur morgan fanfiction #arthur morgan x female reader #rdr2 arthur

[makriiii]

Caught VIII (Arthur Morgan × f!reader)

Word count: 3.5k

Authors notes: Double spaces...

Warnings: 18+, angst, cursing, gun violence, blood & gore.

Ao3 or wattpad!

@thatlittlered

♡

Caught VIII

A final wipe across the veneer on Charles' shotgun rendered it perfectly clean. The least you could do after borrowing it

After getting all that money just days ago you decided that perhaps it was a good time to get your own shotgun again after losing your last one somewhere up in the Grizzlies.

An extra pair of clothes too. Hard to do much with these worn and dirty clothes.

Washing them and having to get naked was out of the question after the creek. Your socks however had gotten a wash, entirely unwarranted, but they did. Courtesy of Arthur.

You shuddered at the thought of Arthur's body so close to you. Absolutely nothing covering him.

God. You shook the thought out of your head, jumping out of your seat to keep your mind on something other than Arthurs bare body.

Charles was sitting up against a tree, his eyes shut out the world. And you didn't want to startle him, or really bother him, so you simply laid his clean gun beside him and continued to your mount.

You hadnt spent any of the money you got two days ago, which would be more than enough to hook yourself up with a shirt that lacked a hole, and pants void of soot.

It'd been a day since you had seen Arthur. Not sure what activities he was off doing, you were just glad you weren't a part of it.

Your horse stood still for only as long as the time you took to bounce on, pulling away from the tie racks towards town once you got your seat.

Come to think of it, you really hadn't had much time to yourself throughout this entire ordeal.

Often, you'd be off on your own, avoiding most of the company that was brought through by Colms indifferent attitude toward any men who wanted to join.

You'd stick to a select few who you resonated with and had more of a long standing membership with, but those days had passed.

Looking down to the hole that grew in size each day on your dirty shirt, revealing your bandage more and more. You wondered just what clothes you'd find in Valentine. Those surface level thoughts growing deeper and deeper.

Was this really it? Just being handed off into a new gang, essentially, and continuing on your merry way? Certainly wasn't accounted for when you first got caught.

More so was constantly considering that man that somehow found himself in your mind every so often. Still baffled that you had let him sleep in a bed with you.

The money was worth it, you had to reason. Logical reasoning, as it was, was the only thing keeping you from thinking too much further on other things that you were certain to never name.

The longer you sat in your thoughts, the more you barely realized just how close you were to town, completely zoned out and not even consciously taking in your surroundings.

It wasn't until you heard a loud argument that you were finally yanked away from the thoughts in your head.

You looked to the cause of the voices that grew into shouting that you recognized someone from the bar.

The man with the bowler hat. Now you had a mighty fun time with him from what you could recall, and felt you should aid him in some way.

Dismounting and hitching, you strode over, hand laid over your revolver like a snake ready to coil itself around its prey.

You couldn't really tell what it was all about, but the man arguing with your pal took to shoving.

You laid your hand on your friend's shoulder, to get both his attention and the one he was bickering with.

"I hope I'm not too much a bother, but we drank together at the bar, and I figured I'd come over and say hello." You patted him with a warm smile, catching the other man off guard.

"Oh, yes." He didn't sound so sure at first, but when he examined your face further, he lit up. "Yes! I remember you. You'll never be too much a bother, I'm sure."

The other man was now silent and confused, staring daggers straight into you.

"You wouldn't mind if you showed me around town?" You could feel the angry man's eyes stare you down so hard you'd think he was trying to kill you with it.

Your friend looked more than delighted, likely mostly that you had stopped the fight.

"I can, I would not mind at all." He nods his head with an awkward laugh and turns around cautiously to the middle of town, making sure you're not far behind.

"Stop." The smile that had been on both your faces hardened into a more nervous glance. The man wasn't so quick to let you both off.

"I don't think you know me. But I know you." His words hit you like rocks, your stomach dropping like one too.

You turned around slowly to look him in the eye. Your hand ready to strangle your gun.

It wasn't an ideal place to have a shoot out, but when was any situation like this ideal?

The most sinister look waved over the man's face, his dark hat and trench coat adding to the shadow that already covered him.

"I think Colm'd love to see you, Miss. I don't forget faces so easy."

Your breath hitched, feeling your face go cold. You couldn't recall seeing this man from anywhere, and it hurt your head to think on it so hard.

Running through all the possibilities, you thought back to the time Arthur let all your ex-members run off.

You could feel your friend's confusion and uncomfortable demeanor as he shifted his weight nervously.

"I'm sorry, I don't know nobody named Colm. I think you got me mistaken." You turned away, but before you could fully walk off with your pal, your wrist was grabbed by somethin fierce.

You twisted back around, staring him straight down.

"Now you let her go." Your buddy demands, between the two of you, trying to push off the man's hold on you, though he wasn't much taller than you, in fact a bit shorter, and didn't seem to have much in terms of muscling the other, much younger man away.

He stumbles back with an angry scoff when he got another hearty shove.

"This isn't your business old man. Fuck off." He snarls, grabbing you tighter in response.

You hadn't come here to get manhandled again, Arthur was your tipping point. You had already had enough of Arthur.

With all the might you could muster into one leg, you landed it straight on his sensitive areas, kneeing his chest as he keeled over with a massive groan.

As soon as he was on the ground, you stood over him with your gun pointed lowly, almost shy with how you tried to hide it from other prying eyes.

"I want no trouble, you hear?" You crouched down next to the seeming O'Driscoll. A name you couldn't associate with yourself anymore.

He was quiet, staring up at you with eyes that burned like a swarm of angry hornets.

You pushed your gun into the underneath of his chin, a disgusted scowl forming on your face.

"There's law right around that corner there." It was less a threat and more a means to keep them off your tail instead.

He squirmed underneath the barrel of your gun. "I'd prefer to spare myself the dirty hands I'd get by killin you here."

This wasn't something youd normally do, but finally having control over your situation eased the anger you still held for Arthur and the way he had disrespected you for weeks.

The O'Driscoll nodded with much angst, his brows still held tightly together, and his hands around his neck to half shield himself.

You dug your gun in deep before you realesed the pressure and shooed him off with your foot.

"Jesus christ." Your friend drawls, rubbing the back of his head, his hat slightly riding up as he does. "I should thank you, I suppose, really."

Your smile returned once your ex gang member scurried off into town somewhere. You knew it was a mistake to let him go.

"Well, I couldn't go and watch the man who paid for my drinks get pushed around." You hook your arm around his, walking him into the main street with you. "What'd he want with you anyway?"

He shrugged, dismissing it as if it happened often. "He was tryna stick me up, but he already did earlier this week."

A sudden cough fires out of you, meant to be a laugh, but you didn't want to do that in front of this poor man.

"Really he did? Out in the middle of town?"

"Yeah. I think they visit town quite often. Doing something, not sure what."

This piqued your interest. Certainly. More O'Driscolls in town, and none the less the ones who saw your face at Six point cabin.

If his words were true - that meant there's many more of them somewhere here. And suddenly, you felt the weight of the world on you. You didn't want to be here anymore.

"Well, what's your name?" He questioned, looking over to you, pulling you out of your thoughts once again, you hadn't even realized you didn't reply to him.

"Y/n L/n." You met his eye expectantly in return.

"It's nice to finally get your name Miss L/n." His hand pats yours kindly. "You can just call me David."

You returned formalities and continued walking slowly with him. He commented on the ever growing hole in your shirt sleeve, which prompted you to tell him the vibrant story of what predicament you found yourself in, and your quest for clothes.

He nodded his head along with your story, glancing around every so often on the lookout for more malicious men.

Once you finished the rundown, he offered to help you, as there wasn't really a place to get clothes here in town.

"I still have clothes at my cabin not far from here, my late wifes' clothing." You could hear the small strain in his voice when he mentioned her, which made you assume she had passed.

"Oh no, you don't have to do anything for me, David. Honest." You did your best to comfort him without bringing any of it up.

He shakes his head, releasing his arm from yours to gather his horse.

"I insist, you saved me. Plus, I have no need for clothes like that, seeing as I don't wear them." The initial glum in his voice disappeared as fast as it came, playing it off with a joke.

You felt bad, but felt bad if you didnt accept.

You mounted your horse not far from him and followed him to his cabin.

The ride lead down a forested path, the breeze whistled through the trees, and chatter from birds calmed your nerves from the O'Driscoll encounter.

All along the way with David, you conversed with him, though this time, actual talking, rather than some drunken slew you both spat out.

-

You were half way out of town now, having ran by the gunsmith for a new shotgun that now laid on your back with clean clothes.

David had told you about his wife, and how you reminded him of her. It was an hour or so you had spent engaging in conversation with him.

The worry of O'Driscolls and Arthurs nagging hadn't crossed your mind the entire time, which left you feeling more even.

He left you with a few different sets of clothes, all that fit you well.

While he gathered them for you, he told you the story of just why he could give you these clothes. You could tell how much he loved her and it broke your heart to hear how she lost her life while out hunting a bounty.

You had left a stark 50$ on his table before you left, knowing he wouldn't have accepted it otherwise. It was a large sum, but he was more than deserving.

As your horse made it further back to camp, the shadows around you grew as the sun's light dimmed behind the horizon.

Which made it more difficult to see who was walking on the side of the road up ahead. You squinted your eyes when you swore you recognized the man.

He turned his head toward the horse and rider approaching him from behind.

That face. Just as clear as the day you first saw him in the mountains. But why on earth was he here and without a horse?

"Arthur?" You kicked your horse into a small trot before you slowed her when you caught up to him. "Why are you walking?"

You could already tell he wasn't in a good mood, his huffing made that clear.

"Horse ran off." He replied shortly, entirely flat.

"Horse ran off." You repeated without hesitation in a mocking snicker, slapping your knee to add to his disdain.

"Shut your mouth, y/n. You always pick the worst times to play your bullshit."

"Oh boy. You're laughable, Arthur." Tears pricked your eyes at the thought of him falling off his horse. The man, as big and tough he liked to be, still fell.

He grumbled something under his breath. His stomping became more apparent with your teasing.

"Get outta here." He tries shooing your horse away with his hands and the clicking of his tongue, but to no avail. She hardly acknowledged it. "Have you got nothing better to do?"

"I just got done with everything I needed to do. The next is making your life more difficult." You snide, relaxing back on your horse to make it apparent that you weren't going to buzz off just yet.

"Right, then you can take me to my horse." Without warning, he jumps on the back of yours, his grimy hands at the sides of your waist.

You slap them away from you and give him a harsh stare from him right behind you.

"I didn't say shit for yes?" You growl, about ready to shove him off. "Now off with you. I don't ferry people around."

His face remained indifferent, not budging an inch from behind you.

"Before dark would be preferable." He returns, completely ignoring your demand.

"Okay, well I suppose I shall just guess what direction your damn horse went?" You snap at him, your playful attitude dissipating in place of irritation.

He points across, slightly in the way you already came, over, and across a hill.

You ask for a trot back in that direction, your mare not too all happy at Arthurs joining on her back. You couldn't agree more with her attitude.

"How'd you fall off?" You question before you hit a steep incline and his hands clamped back down on your sides to keep him from sliding off.

Your brows knit together, but you had done the same with him and didn't feel like fighting him more.

"Raiders popped out the bushes." He remained vague, a small red over his cheeks if you could see right with the every few glances you sent his way.

"That it?" You chuckle in disbelief. He was the only one you could pry like this without feeling annoying. Well, you felt annoying but that was entirely the point for him.

He stays silent for a moment. His discontent so strong you swore the town could feel it from here.

"How'd you get these clothes?" He questions, ignoring you again. Clearly there had to be more that he kept from you.

You hummed as you capped the hill Arthur directed you over, a deep and rich red sun half blinds you, before you adjust and see the colours of the sunset growing into different shades of orange and pink.

"From a friend." You finally respond, having been mesmerized by the day being pushed away by the moon and the stars behind you.

The trail was calm, and as you looked down, you saw a set of fresh hoofprints. Though if from Arthur's horse, you couldn't be sure, but it was worth a ways to walk.

From where the sun set, you had to turn your head all the way over, so you took out your feet from the stirrups and sat sideways on the saddle.

Arthur slid his hands off you as did this, eyeing you with confusion.

You cocked your head to meet his eye. His face graced by the soft colours of the sunset, his eyes reflecting them back. He had a bit of dirt smudged on it, no doubt from his fall, but that didn't change how it looked in the light.

His face just seconds ago had been tense with irritation, now his lips gave way to a soft, albeit, lofty smile.

"What'd I do to earn that look from you?" He quips, his grin splitting his cheeks when you coil back, an eyebrow extending upwards.

Perhaps you hadn't noticed just how long your eyes searched his face. Your lips pursed together, fixing your gaze back on the sunset.

"Letting your imagination run off with you is tricky business, Arthur." You shook your head, wishing to simply just move on from it.

"Oh I know." A feigned look of agreement on his face. "Although, I saw that with my own two eyes, not with my imagination."

"Saw what?" You groan, wondering if he even had a definition for it.

"The way you looked at me."

You hiss air out of your teeth, rolling your eyes at him. "I would trust only a doctor to diagnose me with Stockholm syndrome."

Now you earned a hearty chuckle from him, which made you wanna push him off and just leave him even further from camp.

"Don't think it'd be that if I already let you go."

He simply wouldn't let it go. You were naive to think he would in the first place.

"I can assure you, your face isn't something most want to look at. You just have dirt all over it." You grip at your saddles horn with bitterness, trying to ward off the warmth you felt on your cheeks.

"Keep your eyes lookin for your animal. Before I have you fallin off this horse too." You added a threat to your insult before he could refute any of it.

"Alright, alright." He conceded, finally stopping with the snickering, but his smile that always had you vexed remained.

"You know, I heard there's some O'Driscolls in town. Maybe holed up somewhere." You tried changing the subject, and it worked. His eyes meeting yours with a more serious look.

"They want you that bad huh?" His voice was full of insinuation, which had you sighing with more aggravation.

"It's not because I'm whatever it is you call it - special girl- that bullshit." You wave your hand in front of his face to get him to stop before he started.

BAM!

Your retelling was cut short when a gunshot rang the air around you both, your horse jerking underneath you out of shock.

Arthur was quick to duck down and cover you, his face estranged from the previous joy he had on it.

You kicked your leg back over your saddle and made for a quick lope, Arthur all the while grasping for his shotgun at his back.

"Think those are the O'Driscolls you mentioned." He clamors and with the click of his shotgun, sent off a blast at the three that tailed you.

You hissed out a curse under your breath, dropping the reins around your saddles horn whilst you grabbed for your gun as well.

Shouts and yelling came from the men, and another that you had already regrettably let live.

A shot whizzed right by your face, your blood running cold just from the spot it had grazed you.

"Preferably alive, fools!" He screeches at the one who was already in for Arthurs bullet.

You shoot again, but an unexpected turn from your horse made you miss the men.

You glanced back ahead, a horse who was alarmed at the sudden commotion was up ahead, standing innocently.

By the time you looked back, there were another few men who had gained on you. Replenishing the ones Arthur took out already.

"Goddamnit." He reloads once more. "Hard to aim from back here."

"Well, fret not." You assure with a shout over the yelling from behind you. "I hope you can get on a horse fast."

You were still a ways away, not made any better when the thing started running off in front of you.

Now the ones being pursued, were also pursuing. God, you weren't sure this was going to go well for you.

Another blast rings out, a warmth covering your arm, yet you couldn't tell if it was just Arthurs arm making contact with yours or not.

You looked over for confirmation, but instead met by splattered blood. You nearly felt you had gotten shot again, but Arthurs grunts of pain met your ear instead of your own.

#arthur morgan #red dead redemption arthur #red dead redemption two #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x you #rdr2 #rdr2 fanfic #red dead fanfic #enemies to lovers #lemon fanfic #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan fanfiction

[makriiii]

Caught VII (Arthur Morgan × f!reader)

Word count: 2.5k

Authors notes: Sorry this ones a bit short, but, !Arthur pov alert. Arthur pov long over due 😼

Warnings: 18+, angst, cursing, alcohol.

Ao3 or wattpad!

@thatlittlered

Caught VII

"Y'all sure you don't want to go to the motel?" You question, the night had been long, and the motel just minutes away called your name in from the distance.

You couldn't tell why they didn't hear their names too, but it wasn't much of your concern.

"Im savin' my money." Sean insinuates a bad purchase, but you thought it a great purchase.

"Alright then." You dismiss, indifferent either way. Your mare already turned before you had to ask. She wanted you off her back and you could completely understand why.

The gaslight's outside the motel welcomed you in warmly. The dreams of a bed that didn't greet the floor directly and a private room finally upon you, and you simply couldn't be happier.

"Oh." The clerk blurts, scrambling upright, not having expected more company tonight. "You're lucky. Just one more room."

You could work with that. You only needed one, after all.

You payed him the asked amount, keeping your earnings from tonight out of sight just under the desk.

All that stood between you and a good nights sleep was a flight of stairs and a lock that would accept the key in your hand.

You took two stairs at a time, stumbling upon your room rather quickly. The inside wasn't impressive by any means. The dimensions for a cost efficient build made it cramped, but that arguably gave it charm.

Best money could buy around here, at least.

Locking the door behind you, you stand in the middle of the room. The smokey smell of your clothes had you nose blind this entire time, which made your shirt slightly more acceptable to wear to bed.

Certainly wouldn't go commando, not tonight. The creek happening nailed its self in your mind.

Slipping off most everything besides your shirt and undergarments, you discarded the best of it to the side of your bed. and landed like a sack of potatoes right down onto the bed, sinking into it with comfort.

You didn't reminisce much on todays activities either, your head heavy with drowsiness that had you falling asleep within minutes.

-

Your eyes blinked open unwillingly in response to the knocking that grew with ferocity, desperate and pleading with you to both wake up and answer the door.

It was still dark through the windows but the sound of rain now accompanied the sounds from the outside.

Your brows knit together, a sleepy, confused daze held you from being completely alert. Hell, your brain was so out of it you could hardly process the knocking.

You bent down to grab your gun, checking the round before tiptoeing to the door.

Pressing your ear up against the wood when the knocking stopped, you heard no whispering. Just a sudden bang again from someones fist which shook your entire frame.

If that wasn't enough to wake you up, then it would be the anger you felt from whoever's inconsiderate act this was at this time in the morning.

You swung the door open, gun cocked and aimed at the persons face.

Through the darkness, you could make out your most-hated-to-date man's face.

His shoulders slumped, wet and the perfect image of a soaked puppy dog at the foot of someones door.

"No." You lay your gun away, clenching your jaw with how much audacity this man had.

He stared at you with pleading eyes. Yet, too cowardice to say the words that'd have his chances of getting in just slightly better.

Water droplets fell from the rim of his hat, aiding in his case. But it wasn't enough. Especially after all that banging.

He must've stuck up the poor guy downstairs to find out what room you were in. The last room.

You pushed the door closed after the moments of eye contact you held. Less than happy when it wouldn't close all the way, due to foreseen forces.

"This is my room, shoulda gotten here before-"

"Please, y/n."

Your cheeks rose with a tired smirk. That was a word you could count on hearing from him, never.

"Say it again. More sincerely this time." You demand, holding the door just closed enough that he couldn't weasel his way in.

His lips thinned with reluctance, his pride no doubt took a hit from this. And it delighted you beyond words.

"Y/n, please, just tonight." It wasn't much better, but his tone was enough, you suppose.

You feigned contemplation, which filled his face with desperate prayer.

"Five bucks and I'll let you in." You snickered in elation when he begrudgingly reached for your requested amount and slapped it down in your hand.

You let open the door, leaving the money on top of your pile of clothing. Retreating back into your bed before he strode all the way in.

His gun belt dropped to the floor, followed by his actual belt atop his pants. His boots kicked off haphazardly to different spots on the floor.

You did everything in your power to not turn over and catch a glimpse. Though the need for it in the first place confused you. You didn't like this man.

It went quiet after he'd dropped his wet coat to the floor. Your mind filling with all that had happened back at the creek.

You made sure to take up a great deal of the bed, definitely to help him ward off any thoughts of joining you. You felt his eyes on you.

Or was he already on the floor, lying down? You couldn't tell.

"You'll enjoy the floor, Arthur. Now please stop staring at me so I can sleep in peace."

You could only guess the second part. As you really didn't know if it was paranoia or if he was just standing there.

"I'm not sleeping on the floor." Now your eyes shot open, glaring at him in his loose shirt and boxers, who was in fact, just standing there.

It took everything you had to not grab your gun again and kick him out.

"Do you know how well I was sleeping until some sad, begging, dirty man, came up and slammed on my door?"

"Great, I'm sure. Scoot over please."

You shot out your hand, a defiant no sign. This was no bed for Arthur. Just you.

He took a step closer and you shook your head. "Floor, or back outside."

"I paid my fee. It's only fair. Five dollars is a lot to give you secondhand."

You stood your ground, spreading yourself further in the middle of the bed.

"Don't care. This is barely big enough for me." That wasn't entirely true, and that's why he was persistent. He knew your game.

He stepped closer again, reaching the side of the bed.

This man. You honestly couldn't believe him.

"Ten and I'll let you have the very edge." You wanted to go back go sleep, be over with this.

He wasn't the type to take advantage of you. You had enough close run ins to tell he wouldn't.

This was rather a matter of who could be the worse pain in the ass. And right now, the only reason you gave up, was to have time to sleep.

"You-" He holds himself back, your face twisting with pleasure as he does.

"'Yes ma'am.'" You encouraged. If that were even the right word for it. If he didn't, you'd stick him up and leave him as sad as he came.

"Yes ma'am." Every muscle in his face tensed with frustration and broken pride. You loved it.

Unenthusiastically, you gave him enough space to join you, but you certainly gave your self more room than necessary. Truly only leaving him the bare edge.

He sat down, and when he did, the bed sunk. You started sliding even further on his side, into him even.

"I hardly can sit my whole ass on here, woman. Now move."

You stayed still as a rock. A ever so big grin revealing your intentions.

If he was to impede on your room, your sleep, your bed. You were to impede on his space.

He gives you a grumble before laying down close to the edge. His back against yours with a few irritated exhales. His shirt was slightly damp from the rain but he was warm, sure to dry it on his own soon enough.

"You better not snore." You whisper to him, a wave of languid exhaustion hitting you again.

He yawns in response, faking a few loud snores before you kick him with your leg.

His laugh came out sapped and dry, happy with annoying you one last time. "Snoring isn't as bad as sleeping next to a smoked turkey."

"I offered you the most bang for your buck. " Griping at the smug bastard as you shuffle away further. "The floor."

The darkness around you twisted and turned, slowly loosing consciousness in your pillow when Arthur finally stopped talking.

You felt fine with him in here, safer, even. But you back tracked with that thought, denying it with every bone in your body. It was obvious the reason for that.

Another loud knock at the door caused both you and Arthur to jerk back awake.

"You've got to be kidding me." You groan, rubbing your sore and smoked out eyes. You didn't want to get up, not again.

You reach behind and pat Arthurs arm. You didn't even have to say anything before he obliged and got up to see who it was.

Sean's unmistakable accent mumbled through the door. Bill's too if you heard correctly.

Damn it all. All of them in the room you wanted to yourself. You gave up. Pushing your face further into the pillow.

"You want me to let them in?" Arthur questions softly. That was a first, asking you your thoughts on something.

You murmur out a small whatever. "They likely won't give up if you turn them away."

With that, the door creaked open reluctantly, a few more footsteps joining you inside the room.

"Arthur?" Sean sounded dumbfounded by who opened the door for him. "You snakey bastard you." He chuckles lowly, clearly getting at something.

"Be quiet, Sean. If it were just me Id've not let you in." Arthur hurries him in, Bill not short behind. "Make yourselves comfortable. On the floor."

"Good enough for me." Bill clearly just happy he got to escape the rain.

"Hope we didn't interrupt anythin'." Sean added more with the teasing. Not even traveling all day and being inside a barn oven stopped him from it.

Arthur shoves him away to a far corner of the room before joining you back in bed again. "Just shut the hell up."

Much to your relief you felt this was finally the end of it. Sleep quick to claim you. With the relenting forces that prevented you previous.

-

Arthur's pov.

Arthur sat with a drink in his hand, next to Bill and Sean, you on the other side of them.

He was back in town, near back to camp, but got talked into having 'just one drink' at Smithfield's, to celebrate all the money found at the Secord's place.

The vivid memory of you standing in that flaming building, and thinking you had been crushed by the loft kept in his mind.

Yet, you? You seemed to have completely forgotten about it now.

A faint zap of adrenaline rose up with the thought, quick to be pushed down by the liquor in the mug he held.

The rush he felt, using the butt of his shotgun and then his foot. He wasn't entirely sure he'd get you out.

Rather, he wasn't sure why he had saved you. The first time, after shooting you, he had more of a reason, but now that reason had faded.

He couldn't say he really regretted shooting you. You made him atone everyday and now you were in his gang, the nagging a helluva lot easier to do.

He felt he had every right to shoot you. By his rulebook at least. But you also had every right to be as irate as you were.

He didn't like you. You didn't like him. That much had been established and agreed on.

Arthurs thoughts flew around in his head. This being the only time he really relfected on it.

It confused him even further when you had saved him from that other O'Driscoll and he still didn't have much of a clue as to why.

"You're bein' awfully quiet, Arthur." Bill's hand met his shoulder for a second, shaking Arthur out of his thoughts.

Arthur looked down at the line of you all on the bar. Your face at the end of it, eyeing him expectantly.

"He's outta be makin' sure he doesn't drink too much." Y/n was starting it up again, that cocky smile on her face that he'd love to wipe right off.

"When'd he last get drunk?" Sean questions looking over to you, egging you on.

"Less than a week ago. Boy, you don't even wanna know. " You exaggerated it, of course. He knew you didn't remember much either. That sent off a string of laughter, Bill and Sean shook their heads in agreement.

"You shoulda seen him before we got chased out of blackwater!" Sean's voice was still with rasp, though not as bad as last night.

Arthur couldn't believe it. Not much stopped that girl from making his life increasingly difficult. Sean and you were a dangerous duo, run him straight back out of town.

Sean retold the story of how Arthur got blackout drunk. Meanwhile, Arthur couldn't remember just about anything from that night, and at this rate, Sean had to be making this shit up.

"I don't think any of this happened." Arthur finally announced his desire to stick up for himself, but by that time it was already too late.

All of you except him were having the time of your life, laughing at his unfortunate drunk run all those weeks ago.

Though, a small smile cracked at his lips. The collective chuckling getting to him, even if it was to tease and mock.

The conversation - if you could even call it that, rather bullying, finally came to a slow end.

And surprisingly, the 'just one drink' promise actually held validity, Bill and Sean popping the tender a few coins.

As soon as they cleared out, you marched straight up to him, leaning over to be level with his face.

Arthur put on a 'don't pester me now' face, and to no surprise to him, it did nothing.

"You can pay for my drink." You chime, more than happy to cheat him out of his money again.

God, he hated every word that came out of your mouth. Being an O'Driscoll, it was nothing short of innate in him to despise you.

Yet even through his self assurances, he couldn't convince himself that he understood what he felt for you.

The creek incident. Oh, he had fun with that, but the sight of your bare body sitting on that rock.

It'd take his last breath before he admitted anything of the lustful nature.

---

Is it really an enemies to lovers if theres no cliche one bed trope?

#arthur morgan #red dead redemption arthur #red dead redemption two #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x you #rdr2 #rdr2 fanfic #red dead fanfic #enemies to lovers #lemon fanfic #arthur morgan fanfiction

[makriiii]

Caught VI (Arthur Morgan × f!reader)

Word count: 4.3k

Authors notes: I'm running out of things to say

Warnings: 18+, angst, cursing, gun violence.

Ao3 or wattpad!

@thatlittlered !:)

Caught VI

Dutch's camp was vibrant with life, a smile cracked at your lips all while you heard Uncle tell stories of old around the crackling campfire to anyone who would sit and listen.

They were absurd from the bits you heard, which was the reason for your smile.

You were starting to feel less of an outcast, and more like how it felt to ride with a gang again. Though everyone here acted more like a family. The O'Driscolls? not so much.

Pearson was making something, the what, you couldn't quite distinguish, but everyone was amped for it.

It'd been a long day, and messing around with Arthur just a few hours previous made it even longer.

He was across camp from you, even through most of the darkness that shrouded camp, you could see him glaring at you every so often.

There wasn't much he'd do to you in camp, which was why you ran straight here. Perhaps like a yellow belly, perhaps not. Either way you didn't care.

The few dollars you had in your pocket from raiding a cabin out in the middle of nowhere sat idly in your pocket until you funneled them into the camp's money box, shutting it once you laid them to rest.

"Y/n." Dutch, of all people, greets with a friendly nod.

You felt your stomach get all twisty, the same feeling you got when you stumbled upon a drunk Colm.

Nodding back without hesitation, the rest of your body stock-still. You couldn't be sure of what he wanted.

"Is there something you need?" You ask politely, your lips thinning together when you thought of the measly 5 stray bucks you just donated.

"Why, no not particularly- in this moment." He had a way of making his words penetrate deeply, maybe soothing to someone not an O'Driscoll.

"You know, I don't actually think I complimented you on that stunt you managed."

You keep your eyes trained on him, his cigar fresh in his mouth before he blows it out not far from your nose.

"It was impressive, kid. I think you got potential. You just had your efforts in the... wrong place." He stood only feet away from you with his hand on his hip.

Cocking your head as to question where he was going with this, hoping it wasn't something crazy like the train robbery again.

You knew better this time.

"Thank you, Dutch, but I don't have a cravin' for another bullet. Right now at least." You decline with a half joke, the stinging pain in your arm still fresh in memory.

"Oh, no, no! Of course not. I can only imagine how that bullet felt." He chortles, sliding right up next to you, his arm around your neck, effectively making you walk with him.

He takes another draw of his cigar, then waved his arm once around to showcase the camp in front of you. "I've seen the donations you've been making. I can see you are willing to help."

The smoke of his cigar filled your lungs with each pause he took, keeping you in suspense. He kept you walking slowly through camp to see everyone of its members.

"See now, we're not always making the best money, and we need money to keep this camp functioning." His voice sounded softer with each of the sentences he pressed into you.

"You wouldn't be doing it alone, not at all. I just feel..." He circles his hand to help the words roll out. "We need it to go well, and I can tell you handle yourself more than well."

Your shoulders were taught and tense holding up his arm that felt like a stone around you.

"I mean, what is it? Nothing too wild, I hope. Retirement was on my mind after I got gunned down by your favorite crony."

He lightly hunched over with a hearty laugh for a moment, half bringing you down with him before he finally released his hold on you.

"Oh, come now. You both on the mission would do just fine. And even though it's not been long since you were an O'Driscoll, you seem to have heart in this camp."

Maybe that was true. You did have heart in this camp. And maybe had the circumstances been different, you and Arthur might've gotten along. But he shot you, and he was to pay for that. Plus, he straight up grated on your nerves.

He examined your partially amused face, sensing your remaining skepticism.

"It's not too big a undertaking, I'm sure Arthur can give you the details." You didn't want Arthur to give you the details. "Now, listen, I'm not asking you to forget, but forgive, just for now."

He patted your back, giving another small chuckle, thinking back on your joke, traipsing happily back to his tent.

He knew he convinced you full well.

Dutch didn't catch the memo, clearly. Being so drunk you could hardly tell Arthur apart from a cow was the only time you could 'forgive' him.

Typically, you didn't hold grudges. You'd do away with them before you felt the need, but you couldn't do that with Arthur. Having two gangs on your ass was above your participation level.

Standing where Dutch left you, you zoned out as you contemplated and fully came to terms with your desire to please him. Simply, suck it up with the whole Arthur thing.

Alright. You shook yourself out of your small daze, dawning a face sure to piss off your dearest Arthur.

He wasn't staring so hard now. In Fact, he didn't even notice you approaching, until he gazed back up to give you his routine glare.

His blue eyes caught the firelight just right, amplifying his irritability it seemed.

You walked around his back, giving it a 'friendly pat' which you hoped would leave a mark.

"You act like someone is going to keep me from matchin' your right arm to your left." He growls under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear over the cheers and rambunctious conversations from around the camp.

"Oh, I'll be fine to do that myself. You bested me once, you know. Once. Makin' me regret saving your annoying ass."

You made sure to lean in real close so he heard your words right in his ear.

"Is there a reason you decided to bother me? Throwing my pants into the water wasn't enough?"

"If you stopped yapping for a second, I'd tell you why I came over."

He gave you a look that no doubt signaled to get it over with, and you were happy to oblige, seeing as he wasn't debating further.

"I'm sure you'll be delighted to hear I'm tagging along with you on your latest trip."

He rested his face in his palm. He was both unbelieving and entirely uninterested.

You shared his look, to mock him, but also because you weren't hyped for it either.

"Alright. Give me a hour's head start so you stay well out of ear shot. Sight too."

That sounded like a solution, if he was the one waiting. There was very little incentive for you to go in the first place. You didn't know the full extent, not even the extent. Nothing.

"Nah, you can put up with me for a while. I'm not even being that bad right now."

"So you'd say. It's Right now. No telling what'll leave your mouth tomorrow. " You always got the most passionate scoffs from him. "What else is it?"

You lay your feet out straight, leaning back with your arms propping you up. Mainly to show him you weren't going anywhere yet. Much like he had back at the creek.

"You're supposed to tell me what the take is."

He shakes his head with such vitriol, you'd think he had just been asked his hand in marriage from you. "It gets to be a surprise for you, O'Driscoll. See just how well you can do."

A deep groan rolls out of you, tilting your head back slowly to get a good look at the stars.

The same stars that had calmed you whilst you rode with near perfect victory up in the grizzlies.

"So dreadfully sorry your pants took a dip, Arthur, really. The kind little lady over here would like to know just what she's getting into though." Pleading sarcastically wasn't something you'd done since childhood.

Never a need for it until this man came round.

Now he crowed hoarsely, you could tell he didn't quite mean to, but he did. "'Kind little lady'." He quoted, the more he went on, the more you got irritated.

"Just tell me. I ain't for begging." Your fists dug into the wood under you.

"I am. So beg, O'Driscoll. Maybe then you'll get somewhere." His eyes beat into you with sincerity. Of course he'd say that.

Your trigger finger tingled with every word leaving his smug mouth.

"I beg for no man. Especially not for some low life criminal." Oh, how cheeky it was to say. As another lowlife criminal, you were better in no way.

He raised a brow, a lopsided grin pushed his cheeks up. "Sure, princess. You should go get your beauty sleep before we ride. Let me have peace before I deal with you all day."

You bit back more fight, instead, giving him another 'friendly pat' straight down on his thigh. "Keep your pants near and dear, Arthur. Water never denied anything a soakin'."

He comforted his leg with his hand, much more clemency with the smack than what he cared to show your arm before.

"If you want them off that bad, just ask." There wasn't a flicker of annoyance in his voice anymore- just that cocksure smugness. Both of you knew what really rubbed the other wrong.

Involuntarily, your eye twitched, a spasm made only possible with what that Arthur could conjure.

"Never castrated someone before, but you'd do mighty fine to be my first."

He snorted, seemingly having way too much fun with your back and forth than he planned on. You did too- in some ways. In most ways you also didn't.

-

Just barely north of New Austin now, the ride grueling under the sun, which was setting now. The gold, orange and pink in harmonious layers spanning the skyline before it gave way to night.

Night. Always a good time for robberies.

Along the way, Sean made sure to tell you all about it. He was excited that because he had found out about this, he got to come, and unsuspectingly gave you the details Arthur deliberately kept from you.

Stories and memories from childhood of Robin hood laid in the back of your head.

Take from the rich- and well, you were the second part. The poor. As any outlaw dreams not to be.

The Secord family. They were to be gone for a week. Mr. Secord committing to his role in the oil business, taking his family along for a vacation.

It was the perfect clear cut robbery, and how Sean had found out from some random in town was beyond you.

The oil business. So lucrative for the lucky. And so lucrative for the ones unlucky, as they usually do the robbin' from the fortunate.

"I can see it now." Bill announces, clearly spotted something that you hadn't from his tall mount. "I think we should stop here."

Arthur nods to Sean and you, everyone dismounting and preparing.

"Should be smooth sailing, if there's no hired hands." Arthur assures, checking his ammo.

You hoped it was going to be smooth sailing, having seen a motel an hour back or so. You wanted a half decent bed and your own room after traveling all day.

"Right." Sean cheers, pointing his shotgun up as if he were to fire it, which alarmed you, Bill and Arthur. "I'll fix any of the bastards, have there be any."

Arthur mumbles something under his breath, bringing his hands up to rub his face in exasperation.

You loved having a second person who annoyed Arthur as much as you did. You didn't even have to ask, he just does.

"No funny business." Bill warns Sean with a stern glare. "We do this fast, no need to linger."

Sean rolled his eyes in defiance, repeating Bill's words in a low tone to mock him. A handful, that boy.

The four of you slowly crept up, searching and scanning for any sign of life in or out of the massive house. Upon seeing no one, the tension that kept you all tight-knit slacked into a loose circle.

It was hardly a farm, but it had a decent barn and a shed close to the back of the house.

The place wasn't far from town, and in other words, you prayed you were unlikely to see anyone, or have anyone see you.

It'd be a quick in & out after all.

"Careful. Don't want to wake anyone up." Arthur reasserts, his bandana muffled his voice, but only slightly.

"There really don't seem to be much to wake up, are you seeing things in your old age, Arthur?" Sean chimes, spinning in a 360 to check the validity of his statement, which he should've done before he started up.

A younger man came out from behind the shed, the barrel of his rifle facing you down, which never stayed on one target for long, waving it around at each one of you.

"Stay right there!" He barks, his frame shaky with adrenaline.

Sean stopped in his tracks, squinting his eyes. More discontent with his insult backfiring than the threat at hand.

"Probably you and that loud mouth, Sean." Arthur throws out his elbow at Sean, poking fun at him, although aloof.

Sean scorned with Arthurs jab, replied bitterly. "Shut up, Arthur."

Had you approached this better, maybe you guys could've played it off as debt collectors, or business associates. But the boy was way beyond that point.

"Don't worry, we don't want no trouble... Just your things." Bill's laugh came out evil, his gun cocking under this thumb.

The young man shuffled in panicked and jerking hesitations, unsure of what to do with himself. He could shoot, or he could run.

He too, knew his two options, and chose wisely. Run.

He dropped his gun, finding himself his horse out back, kicking the poor thing to hell, just to get outta of here fast.

"I hope you know sparing him means whoever he tells, won't spare us." Sean grumbles, his hand gripped angrily at his shotgun, scolding Bill.

That was probably true. So Arthur waited no time and pointed him to the barn as if he were a kid in trouble. "Go see if there's anything in that barn, boy. Go on, git."

Sean scoffs, shaking his head, no doubt feeling a certain level of entitlement to do what he desires.

"Ask me to scoop the shit out next, English. Just as likely to do that."

Walking past the obstinate Sean, you brandished your gun and carefully opened the door to the dark and empty house.

It would be hard to see anyone, if there were. As incredulous as you felt, but there really seemed to be no one else of opposition.

You heard Sean and Arthur bicker some more behind you, until finally Sean relented, leaving Arthur to join you inside the house.

There was two whole floors to rummage, and if you had to guess, most of the valuables would be upstairs.

"I'll go upstairs." You call to Arthur, gun still in hand. You'd have to clear the upstairs before you felt comfortable enough to put it away.

Arthur acknowledged you with a small up and down of his head and went about searching the other downstairs rooms.

The whole second floor was just as magnificent as the first. It took next to no thought to know where these folk stood financially.

Paintings of all sorts plastered the walls, their details dimmed by the dark in the house. Perfectly clean furniture sat with fancy decorum on top and intricate wallpaper designs in the backdrop.

You knew there had to be good money somewhere with these telling signs.

Firstly, you checked the rooms, passing through what seemed to be two littles girls' rooms with nothing of interest before you found where you could hit gold.

The master bedroom.

It overlooked the barn and shed, which you saw Sean rumbling through.

Atop the nightstand was a small jewelry box, heavy with some sort of metals which you didn't care to scour around in now.

You removed the few paintings off their places in the room, but nothing sat behind them as you hoped.

Pacing the room, your boots hit nothing but dense floorboards.

Until A hollow board groaned under the preassure of your heel, quick to give its position away. The sound filled you with glee, removing any skepticism that there wasn't anything left in here.

You kneeled down, knife in hand, eager to pry.

It came open without much resistance, cobwebs and dust met your expectant hand.

Before you could even fully reach into the dingy little floor cavity, a shot rang out.

Your entire body jerked upright, Charles' borrowed shotgun hollering to you from it's spot on your back.

From the window, you could see five or six men who funneled into the barn from the behind.

Shouting and yelling was indistinguishable from the window.

"We got company!" Sean manages to outdo the rest of the noise, bolting from the barn to cover behind a tree.

You couldn't tell if Arthur and Bill had started shooting yet, but you sure as hell were.

Taking a few deep breaths to calm your nerves, you hit one poor sucker who stuck too far out of the barn.

When the men stopped popping out from the cover of the barn, you turned and sprang downstairs.

There were multiple holes in the house's downstairs wall, you knew it wasn't good cover.

By the time you peeked around outside, your heart was pounding with adrenaline.

Flames bursted from the back of the barn.

"What the hell? Who lit the barn on fire?" Bill retreats from the shed, running up to the front of the porch.

The last few of the men weren't in there anymore, leaving behind a burning barn instead. Perhaps thats why they ran.

Sean started back into the barn, waving you guys over too. Why on earth would he go back in there? And even more insane, encourage you to follow?

He let out a horse, who legged it straight out with fear, letting out a cry to the others in the barn.

Now you understood, not wasting another second to help Sean.

"Arthur, there's something upstairs in the floorboards." You call to him from behind, sprinting over to aid Sean in the growing inferno.

The fire ate at the back half of the barn, flames leaving charred wood with each moment passed. Moments you couldn't waste.

Horses whinnied and cried out with the smoldering beams that fell closer and closer to them with the heat.

The sweat on Sean's panicked face glistened against the glare of the bright orange and red, unrelentling in its path.

The latches on the stall were easy enough to undo, but the frightened beasts inside weren't always so willing to go right out. Which had you going in to scare them out.

Smoke congregated in its area inside the barn, getting ever so worse.

You pulled up your bandana to help with some of the smoke, but your teary eyes didn't get the same grace, burning incessantly.

There were four stalls on each side, with every furthering one, you realized you should've started in the back.

Releasing each horse didn't take much time, but neither did the fire in its travel. Near greeting you right where you stood now.

The final stall held a mare and foal, flames licked ever closer to them.

You coughed and coughed, shooing them out before something you couldn't save them from transpired.

Sean was already out of the barn, in front with Arthur and Bill, who waved at you desperately.

The final stretch of the barn aisle just in front of you started filling with small smoldering embers and wood that dropped from above. Covering the three bodies that laid at the entrance.

A petrifying crack rang through you, the sound collapsing an entire loft down in the way of your only escape.

You didn't even know what to say, much less do. You didn't think saving horses was as stupid as a solo train robbery. But here you were, again, life on the line.

It was blurry with the tears and smoke that filled your vision. Squinting your eyes and swivelling your head in every direction.

With your hopes dimming, you noticed one last chance.

Smoke escaping out the the stall windows.

Just big enough for a horse's head to peek out was difficult to get through, not to mention pull yourself up and out through.

The coughing unforgiving and your ability to breathe deteriorating made asphyxiation a undeniable possibility.

"I'm comin'." Arthur calls, a loud thump at the wall caused you to back away.

He must've seen you flailing your arms out of the gap, but not much relief came from it.

Every hit weakened the wood. Weakened, not broke.

The heat grew, every inch of the barn feeding the fire closer to where you stood backed up completely to the corner.

Flames bit close to your feet, the stall bedding perfect fuel.

Finally someone's leg broke through the wall, followed by your arm being yanked so hard you reckoned it would come out the socket.

The smoke that filled your lungs cleared slowly as you heaved in breaths, being dragged away from the immediate danger.

"You crazy bastards." Arthur chuckles, a twinge of relieved concern in his laugh. "Are you okay?"

Your throat ran up and down with pain, each dry cough hurt adding to it. "Yeah." You confirmed with a hoarse whisper.

"Nearly flew with the angels, O'Driscoll!" Sean crows in between coughs, hunching over to catch his breath.

"Tell me about it." You couldn't help but snicker at these fools for laughing after you nearly got cooked.

Bill stood over you as well, his laugh matched the others. "I like this one, Arthur."

You laid sprawled in a starfish position, shutting your eyes to soothe the burning. Your chest shaking with the chuckles that left more as a cough than anything, but amusement nonetheless.

"Yeah?" Arthur was about to start again, you could already tell. Warn Bill of an issue you'd only give him. "Wait till you're the subject of her carping."

"No. That's your problem." Bill was quick to dismiss himself from any of that responsibility.

"Unfortunately." Arthur sighs, but not with his usual contempt. Not even a trace.

"I think we should get outta here though. Who knows where those men ran off to." Bill reminds from the side of you, which had you in favour.

You nodded, wiping away the tears at your eyes while you sat on the dirt, recollecting yourself. With your body cooling, you surprisingly didn't feel many burns, just a few on your knuckles.

"Yeah, they ran cuz they saw me." Sean jokes, puffing himself out after all that hacking.

"Oh sure. A scrawny little red head is enough to scare off the best of them." Bill gives Sean a few hearty slaps, pushing him in the direction of the horses.

"Now if I remember correctly, you were the one runnin'." Arthur was quick to point out Seans bull, which made made you stifle a giggle. Anymore of it and you'd have no throat left.

Arthur hooked his arm in yours, pulling you up and to your surprise, kept it there. Turning you away from the fire and helping you towards your horses.

"We're even now, y/n." Arthur was sure to mention, whether it was the right time or not, he didn't care. "Twice, I've saved you, but apparently the first time don't count."

You gave him a slap to his torso from your half bent over position for his teasing in this moment. "Damn right it didn't."

Once you lot reached the horses, you were about to get on, but Arthur stopped you.

He pulled out your hands, inspecting them for just a second. He didn't linger, not wanting to give you the wrong idea.

Arthur gently lifts you up by the waist, just this time, you didn't deny his assistance so vehemently. He untied the reins and handed them to you, making you thank him with a choked murmur.

"I was stuck in that fire too, Arthur." Sean demonstrates by coughing more. "Why aren't you lifting me up into my saddle as well?"

Arthur had a good laugh on that, mostly by the absurdity of it. "You'd have to be within an inch of your life for me to put you in your saddle, boy."

"Oh, you're the most considerate man I've met, Arthur, really." Sean quips, spurring his horse back in the direction you all came.

Arthur hums his sarcastic agreement, mounting his horse and following along with the rest of your group.

"Did you get whatever it was upstairs, the jewelry box too?" You ask Arthur as he speeds up next to you.

"I did." He assures patting his satchel. "Good thing you didn't end up taking it too, else the two thousand dollars might've caught fire."

You could feel Bill and Sean all turn their heads in awe. You none the better, jaw dropped.

"I told you, Arthur!" Sean whooped and hollered from atop his horse, waving his arms in victory. "Aren't you glad you listened to the young whippersnapper Sean now?"

Arthur's face split with the happiest grin you done ever saw on it, and you couldn't help but smile because of it too. It was contagious and not something you thought you'd catch.

"Just this once." Bill in as jovial mood as ever, no one at all bothered by the shootout or the burning building anymore. Just the thought of two thousand dollars pocketed.

You turned your head back to look at the amass of flames. The barren and barely standing silhouette of the barn crumbling to its foundation.

You hoped it wouldn't spread to the house. You could only imagine how terrible it'd be to come back to your horses loose and your barn burned. And it wasn't even your group that had set it ablaze.

Alas, 2k was likely a small amount to Mr. Secord, and with that, you didn't dwell on it. Instead, celebrating with the split money, joking and coughing with your little band of outlaws by your side.

---

Ofc you'd get stuck in the burning building, It's for the non existent plot line🧍‍♂️

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