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mushrubes · 7 months

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Another?

Masterlist | Red dead redemption masterlist |

Requested : no

Based on character ai { Hosea Matthews by @/addynot }

Pairing : father! Hosea Matthews x child! reader, John Marston x matthews! reader

Pronouns : you/yours

Type : platonic / familial + fluff

Word count : 1.4k

Warnings : Swear words, familial, best friends in love, slightly ooc <3

Have a great day !! <3

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You stood still as Hosea cleaned the blood from your nose. He looked genuinely angry this time. You had a habit of getting into fights at school, but after this last one — your father seemed to be at his wit’s end. “I can’t believe you. I’ve tried so hard to get you an education and you go off and get into trouble.” He mumbled to himself, his hands gentle as he cleaned off your bruised face. He was extremely disappointed in you. "Pa, I'm sorry! It was deserved!" You defended, rolling your eyes. “I doubt that,” he argued. “You’ve told me before that every time you get into these things it’s ‘deserved’.” Hosea sighed. “Tell me. What happened this time?” he questioned. "O'driscolls. Two of them. Cornered me and they punched John after calling you and Uncle Dutch murderers so threw a punch at them and then the three of us started fighting." You explained.

Hosea rolls his eyes. “You know, you really shouldn’t go around throwing punches every time someone insults the gang.” He sighs again. “If I’m being honest… I’m almost scared to ask what happened to the O’Driscolls. How’s John?” he asked, the disappointment and concern evident. "They were threatening to get their guns out, and me punching them is too far? yeah, bullshit." You mumbled under your breath. "I think John's okay. I got him to go to Miss Grimshaw when we got back - he'll most likely have a black eye tomorrow." You sighed. “You don’t have to curse, kid. I understand the situation but what you failed to remember is that you’re only 16. You can’t go around throwing punches just because someone insults you.” Hosea sighs. “And as much as I don’t really like the O’Driscolls, I don’t think you should’ve punched them. That’s a good way to get yourself killed.” he shook his head.

Hosea sighs — a look of sadness and disappointment flashes through his face. “I know, love… I know. But, that doesn’t change anything; It’s still very dangerous to try and start fights with them. One day, you might end up picking the wrong fight…” He lets out another deep sigh. “You’re a smart kid. I just don’t want you to… do something stupid.” his voice softened, eyes full of love and concern for you, only wanting the best. "Whatever." you rolled your eyes, scoffing at him. “I’m serious, love. I don’t need to lose you the same way I lost your mother. I’m all you got right now, and it’s tough parenting a child in the gang. If anything happens to you, I’ll never forgive myself.” Hosea paused, thinking. “Can I trust that you won’t get into another fight? Just while you’re at school?” he pleaded, wanting some sort of confirmation. "Yeah, sure." You huffed, getting up.

Hosea breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you, sweetheart. Just… please try to stay out of trouble. You’re the only child I’ll ever have, and I don’t want you to go the same way your mother did.” He looks at you, his face softening. “Just… just give me a hug, would you?” Your face softened and you gave in, hugging him tightly. You didn't even notice your tears staining his shirt. Hosea hugs you back tightly, holding his emotions back as tears begin to fall down his cheeks. “You’re… you’re the closest thing I’ll ever get to seeing your mother again.” He whispers quietly. “Don’t do that to me again, okay?” He holds you close, not wanting to let go. “I love you darling.” he caressed your head gently. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Pa. I love you too." You whispered, wiping your tears. “I know, sweetheart. Just… just don’t do something like that again, okay?” Hosea holds you close for what feels like forever, not wanting to let go. Eventually — and reluctantly — he does. “Now go on, get washed up and get to bed. It’s late.” he said.

"Okay. Goodnight, Pa. I love you." you responded, kissing his cheek gently. “Love you too, sweetheart. Goodnight.” With that, Hosea shuts the door behind you — leaving you alone to get cleaned up and head to bed. You made your way to the bathroom, brushing your teeth and getting changed. You get changed into something comfortable, ready to go to bed. As you start brushing your teeth, you begin to remember everything that happened earlier as well as the promise you made to Hosea — not to get into any more fights. This was probably one of the last times he was ever going to be easy on you, you thought to yourself. He genuinely didn’t want you to get hurt. You smiled softly when you walked back into your shared bedroom, seeing John sitting on his bed "Hey loser." you called lovingly, making him look up in your direction. “Shut up, runt.” John replied back lovingly with a smile on his face.

“How did your talk with father go?” John had a cut on his eye, it was swollen and red — but it wasn’t too bad. He looked completely exhausted. "Usual lecturing. How's your face doing?" you asked, gently cupping his cheek, frowning at the cut. “Same as always, numb to the pain,” John chuckled, leaning in to give you a kiss on your cheek. This was always your relationship with John. You teased and bickered a lot, but you both cared for each other deeply. He sighs. “I just… can’t believe you punched those bastards. What if they did get their guns out?” he pondered, concern evident in his voice and on his face. "Was worth it. They punched you and insulted my dad and Dutch." You shrugged, not even hesitating, meaning every single word. “Still not worth it.” John argued — but you could tell he wasn’t being serious, he was just worried about you. “Hosea was worried you were gonna get yourself killed. He was on the verge of tears talking to you.” John pauses for a second to think.

“Just… try not to do this again… okay, love?” he asked. "They're lucky I didn't kill them for hurting you." You commented, sitting next to him on his bed. “I know… but they weren’t worth the effort,” John chuckled weakly. “Now, come here.” He motioned for you to cuddle up with him on his bed. “I’m too tired to keep arguing.” he chuckled. You smiled softly, cuddling up to him, head on his chest. John’s body was warm. It always felt safe and cosy whenever you cuddled up to him like this — his large frame was comfortable to rest against. He wraps his arm around you, holding you close as he kisses your forehead. He was so big and handsome, and it made you feel safe in his arms. "Hey John?" you called quietly, turning the light out so it was dark. “Yeah, love?” He looked down at you. You could see his eyelids were slightly heavy — he was half asleep. “What’s up?” He asked softly. "Y'know I'd do anything for you, right?" you whispered, nuzzling into him.

John smiles at you, feeling slightly amused by your words. “I have no doubt,” he chuckled. “What’s your point?” He pulled you closer to him, feeling completely comfortable with you by his side. "I love you. I know we're teenagers but…" You trailed off, a lovesick smile on your face. John looks at you, his dark eyes filled with love for you. “I love you too, darlin',” he whispers back — his soft voice echoing softly through the room. “I know we’re just teenagers… but I can’t imagine living the rest of my life without you in it.” He pulls you even closer to him, his hand brushing through your hair. “We’re gonna get through this… okay? I promise.” he assured, pressing kisses to your forehead and cheeks. "me and you forever?" you questioned, intertwining your hands. “Me and you forever, my love. No matter what that means or where that takes us.” His words were sweet, he meant every one of them. John had done so much for you, he was so much more than your best friend — he was the person who you trusted and loved more than anyone in this world. He was, truly, your soulmate.

Maybe everything was going to be okay after all.

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outlawwithaheart · 1 year

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How clingy are the rdr2 boys?

No warnings! Just some kinda fluff relationship headcannons! Asks are open! :) Not proof read really just a lazy post. Pretty sure I got all of them. If you want a separate post for any of them just ask :D

Arthur

He's not clingy

Of course, he gives you all the attention you want

So if you're clingy, he's going to give you a lot of attention

But, he leaves camp for days at a time and what not, and usually doesn't want to to come along because it can be dangerous

He makes up for lost time though!

He leaves you drawings of yourself at where you sleep

Dutch

I'm sorry y'all saw the way he treated Molly

Sorry Dutch simps let me be optimistic

So let's say he actually loves you

And let's say.. hypothetically that you love him back

He's a perfect amount of clingy

It depends on the day though

If you leave for a day, he's okay

He of course showers you with compliments all the time

Javier

He's a little clingy!!

Well, on a scale of one to ten.. maybe a 6.792

Most days you're already chillin with him anyways

He's always touching you

Holding your hand, shoulders touching, his hand on top of your hand, his hand on your thigh, his arm around you, etc.

But if you're gone for a day or so he'll be all over you

Charles

Not clingy

If you want affection.. well he'd do anything for you

It's not that he's not affectionate, just not clingy

He does enjoy his alone time, and his quiet time!

He of course does like just being next to you in a comfortable silence

That's actually his favorite way to spend time with you

Just doing your own thing in the same space :)

Sean

Very clingy!!

He highkey follows you around like a lost puppy a lot of the time

It gets worse when he's drunk

He's all over you all the time

God forbid you leave for a few days

He will not detach from your body LMAO

He rambles on to you about nothing and everything

Micah

He's not clingy

But if you want affection

He'll complain a lot a lot

But he still gives you affection

Just for his little cowpoke awee

He secretly enjoys you begging for his attention so it's fine

John

He's a little clingy when he's drunk

But other than that he can hold off on his own

He's okay with you leaving for a few days even

He does ask for your attention sometimes though

Not outright though

He's kinda awkward but it's okay

Hosea

He's not that clingy

Occasionally though he can be

He's less of a touchy guy, more of a words guy

He's always telling you how much he loves you

Bill

Are there any Bill stans out here? Does ANYONE LIKE BILL?

Show yourselves

Anyways

He's very clingy when he's drunk probably

Any other time he's usually just fine

#rdr2 x reader #arthur morgan x reader #javier escuella x reader #dutch van der linde x reader #charles smith x reader #rdr2 #micah x reader #micah bell x reader #red dead redemption x reader #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 fanfiction #sean macguire x reader #red dead redemption hosea #red dead redemption 2

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gothicgunslinger · 9 months

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Pre rdr2, where you join the gang just before Arthur and John do – for a while, it was you, Dutch, and Hosea; a seemingly unstoppable trio of theatrics, gunslingin' and thievin'.

That and, both Dutch and Hosea had eyes for you. At first, it felt like a complication – I mean, they couldn't both have you, right? Right?

I suppose that all changed, after a rather eventful night at the saloon. A planned robbery, turned completely on it's head – the three of you throwing caution to the wind and deciding just to let loose, get drunk, dance, have fun. Oh, and fun was had.

Somehow, several whiskeys down the line, you were all collectively crammed into a hotel room – your back against Dutch's chest, his rough, decored hands rolling your nipples between harsh, calloused fingers; the cold silver of his rings making you shudder, an array of goosebumps adorning your skin, his breath on your ear as he murmured filth from behind those lips. Hosea, on the other hand, always the gentleman – his head between your already trembling thighs, tongue circling your aching clit, your slick tasting like fresh honey as he periodically swallowed.

After that, no night, nor day was the same. You were often spent, jelly-legged from a rough pounding the several nights prior – neither men showing mercy, indulging perhaps a little too much in enacting fantasies they'd let swim around their heads for so long. Still, as if you'd ever find it within you to complain – because, there were nights like this one; Dutch's head in your lap, as he read aloud his usual philosophies, your fingers combing through his tight, inky curls as a warm smile played at your lips. Your free arm, laced around Hosea, his head upon your shoulder – he'd occasionally pepper gentle, innocent kisses to your neck, your jaw. It was bliss.

Little really changed, when you found Arthur. The sex was less, of course, but the affections were perhaps on a rise – a son, now curled up in bed with the three of his parents. Fourteen, lost, now having sought the comfort he'd so desperately craved. Though it did take time, Arthur saw you as a mother – some, angelic force within his life, that kissed his grazed knees, cut his hair and soothed tears or terrors that so often reared their ugly heads.

John. John, wasn't an entirely different story, either. Well, for Dutch and Hosea, he certainly was. In comparison to his older counterpart, John wasn't quite as equal with his appreciation for his s o-called 'adoptive parents'. He favoured you, greatly. More than you could say you were grateful for, John competed with Arthur for your attention – purposefully skinning his knees, tumbling from his horse. All, to be scooped into your arms. Admittedly, for a while, you yielded – “Shh, sweetheart, I’ve got you. Awh, my poor boy.” All while planting a kiss to the crown of his head. Finally, at the advise of Hosea, you set a few boundaries – much to John’s distaste, but he’d listen to you.

Life went on like this, for a good, long while. Yes, you weren’t really a gang, anymore – rather, a family. Poker on spring nights, in which, John’s wrinkled nose giving him away. Hosea teaching the boys to read by the campfire, Dutch slow-dancing with you in your shared tent. Despite the expected blip, bump in the road, life felt..perfect.

#then you died #jk unless you like angst #rdr2 #rdr2 community #rdr2 x reader #dutch van der linde #dutch van der linde x reader #hosea matthews #hosea matthews x reader #arthur morgan #john marston #van der linde gang #pre rdr2 #smut #kinda #rambles #fanfic #red dead redemption two #im emotional

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moeitsu · 1 month

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The Tie Which Linked My Soul To Thee

Hi everyone! I have a new Arthur x female!OC fic I've been working on that's posted up on Ao3, so I figured I would share it here as well. Please let me know what you think! This story is currently still on-going :)

Ao3 Wattpad Masterlist - All Chapters Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch.5 Ch.6 Ch.7 Ch.8 Ch.9 Ch.10

Summary: Kate McCanon, a young widow from the north, meets outlaw Arthur Morgan. When the two cross paths she discovers a complex man wrestling with his own sense of right and wrong. As their unlikely bond deepens, Kate becomes determined to guide Arthur towards a brighter path, even as tensions rise within his gang led by the enigmatic Dutch van der Linde. With danger lurking at every turn, Kate must navigate treacherous territory to protect those she holds dear, all while finding love in the most unexpected of places. Tags: Arthur Morgan/Original Female Character, Widowed, Original Character, Mutual Pining, Slow Build, Eventual Smut, Eventual Romance, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, High Honor Arthur Morgan, Friends to Lovers, Child Loss, Trauma, Canon-Typical Violence, Arthur Morgan Does Not Have Tuberculosis, Arthur Morgan Deserves Happiness, Chubby Arthur Morgan, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence

Chapter 1 - The Frost Gleams Where The Flowers Have Been

1890

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

May God Keep Their Souls.

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

1899

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Exactly.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“By marriage,” Kate retorted.

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

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

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

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

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

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

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

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

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

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

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

“And?” The cowboy replied slightly annoyed.

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

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

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

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

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renslo161605 · 5 months

Text

ISAAC HOSEA MORGAN

Hehe the stank.

I love him so much. He's all that runs through my head.

From bottom to top is him aging up, so baby man at the bottom and large man at the top :))

Songs that let me make this fr-

I LOVE MODEST MOUSE

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orphicrose · 2 months

Note

Can you pls write Hosea (rdr2) x teen reader where the reader was caught stealing from the vamp and Hosea tracks them down and sees that maybe the reader was trying to save a injured horse or any other animal. I was thinking that the reader has been living on the streets/wild for a while and looks the part, so he knows how to survive and doesnt trust anyone really and when Hosea sees that the reader stole to help he was kinda moved and approached the reader and asked them to join the group because their thieving/stealing skills could be useful, and maybe a few reactions when Hosea brings back the teen. I imagine Hosea to be just really kind to children and teens

Stray (Hosea x Child!Reader)

Absolutely! Love this idea, thank you for the request

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

The camp was no stranger to crime, being on the dealing end of it the majority of the time. But they weren't to used to being the receiver, and by a child of all things. Over the course of a week, little things had gone missing through the night. Being camped up in horseshoe overlook meant they were subjected to rats, which was plausable. But medicine, Hosea didn't think rats were that advanced. It wasn't just a little, it was a whole crate worth of canned food and horse tonic that had vanished.

"What you planning, Hosea?" Charles appeared in front of the old man, who was sat on a stump cleaning the barrel of his gun.

"I'm going to catch the theft in action tonight" He stood up, throwing the gun over his shoulder. "I'm not convinced we have rats."

"No?"

"No. Rats don't drink horse tonic."

Charles hummed in response, amused by his answer. "Well, have fun old man" he patted his shoulder before he left to his tent. Leaving Hosea to himself in the darkening night.

The night was cool, calm and very uneventful. Everyone was asleep peacefully in their tents, except Hosea. Waiting. Back leant against a tree as he was planted on the floor, gun in hands at the ready. His eyes began shutting on him as he heard small footsteps creeping up on him. Keeping his composure, he sat still, giving the impression of him being asleep. In the corner of his eyes, a small person snuck up behind some bushes towards Strauss carriage. A small bottle was snatched from the side of the structure and then figure disappeared back into the night.

It was but a kid. Hosea had a pain in his gut, at the thought of shooting it. The child's scruffy appearance resembled that of a stray dog, making him feel sorry. But his effortless skills in thieving had potential, showing similar traits of Arthur when they took him in. Perhaps they could help each other.

Usually, Hosea would have waited till morning. To tell someone of his plan. But he felt this was too urgent to wait hours for morning to roll around. His gun was equipped to his back, and he took it upon himself to follow the figure on foot. Finding the little footprints in the dirt to catch up with him.

There they were. The child was almost sprinting across the train track. Hosea had to pick up his pace a little to ensure he didn't lose site of them, coughing a little as he turned to a light jog. Keeping far away enough to prevent the child from spotting him.

They must have travelled at least half a mile through the heartlands, stars illuminating the paths around them. The figure stopped abruptly in the field, hunching over into the tall grassy land. Hosea knelt down as he closed in, keeping his breath steady.

The closer he got, the closer he could make out a small dog. Seemingly passed away as it was sprawled across the grass.

"Horse tonic wont be any good for that, kid"

The child spun to see the old man, a look of fear crossing his face as the gun on his back gleamed in the light. Eyes switching between the metal and the old man.

"I.Im sorry. I just-" they stuttered, falling to the ground.

Hosea put a hand out, other hand dropping the gun from his shoulder to the floor next to him. "I wont hurt ya" He half laughed, now kneeling to the floor to show his good intentions. A hand was placed on the dogs neck, in attempts to find a pulse. It was faint, but it was there. "What happened?"

The child pointed to a bite mark on the dogs paw, two holes indicating a snake. Hosea nodded, scooping up the dog in his arms.

"you know when it happened?"

"A few days ago. I thought the tonic would help" The child fiddled with his hands, avoiding eye contact.

Hosea took a second to admire the wound, nodding his head. "He'll be fine. He would have died a while ago if the venom was strong enough" he took a second to cough into his elbow, clearing his throat. "Must have acted as an aphrodisiac"

The child looked up at him confused

"What's your name, kid?"

"Y/n"

"okay y/n, come with me. Lets get some proper food in you" He motioned his hand in the direction of his camp, flinging the small animal over his shoulder.

Clearly exhausted, y/ns movements slowed down drastically, struggling to remain awake on the journey back to camp. Not even sure if they were walking into their doom.

"What you doing out here alone?" Hosea looked down.

"My ma and pa were sick" a sigh escaped their lips, Hosea nodding sympathetically to the answer.

"What are ya? 11? 12?"

"I'm 12 soon"

"Jesus" Hosea mumbled under his breath, readjusting the animal on his shoulder to a more comfortable one. "Well... we got room" he began. "There's another kid back at camp, who will appreciate the company I'm sure"

Y/ns face seemed to lighten up a little more at the mention of another kid. That most likely meant he was safe from whatever they thought was going to happen to them.

Camp rolled into view, the campfire gleaming through the shadows of the forest.

"Where did you get off to?" Dutch marched towards him, having just woken up. The sun began to unveil itself from over the horizon, offering a warm glow to the dim landscape. "Off hunting this early?" He chuckled, motioning to the stray dog.

"Not quite" Hosea looked down to y/n, Dutch following his line of vision. A small 'oh' leaving his mouth. "I solved our little rat issue"

"He reminds me a little of john" Dutch put a finger to his lips, thinking. "Are you suggesting we take him in?"

Hosea shrugged "He wont be no trouble. He even came with a hunting dog"

Dutch chortled, walking back towards the camp. "Suppose we should introduce everyone, shouldn't we?" He turned to the child. "And your name is?"

"Y/n... sir"

"y/n!" He repeated. "Hosea, take that dog to heir Straus. I'm sure he will take care of it"

Y/n was offered food from Pearson shortly, who didn't question the new member. Having seen many of the camp come and go by this point. The women made quite a fuss of him, cooing about how sweet he is. Especially Abigail.

"Abigail!" Dutch called her over, who soon came rushing over with jack following closely behind her. "Yes Dutch" She looked down towards y/n. Confusion on her face.

"This is y/n, Hoseas most recent adoption" He motioned down to the child "I don't suppose you could make him feel more welcomed here. Perhaps introduce them to Jack?"

Jack hid behind his mothers leg, appearing shy. "Hi" he whispered, letting his hand wave a little.

Abigail nodded softly to the suited man, looking down to y/n. "I'm Abigail, this is my son jack" her hands rested on his shoulders as she forcefully brought him forward.

"Come with me, darlin, I'll show you where you can get some shut eye" She motioned for him to follow, noticing the drowsiness on his face.

A small bedsheet was laid out in hers and Jacks shared tent for y/n. Leaving him to catch up on some well earned sleep.

"But i wanna play" Jack moaned, as the tent was zipped up. Leaving y/n to some peace.

"You can play later, Jack. The poor kid needs some sleep"

Weeks had passed with the new recruit. Settling in rather quickly. Abigail had taken it upon herself to practically adopt them, her maternal instincts getting the better of her. Scolding them when she deemed fit and offering motherly love that she saw was deserving. Hosea, of course, became an authoritative figure. Spending quite a lot of time with y/n, reminding him of young Arthur and John. Making him feel slightly younger.

Everyone else was accepting, apart from Micah. Who gave y/n grief occasionally, but was dealt with by who ever was closest. Which was usually Arthur or Charles.

And Jack... Jack adored y/n. He always wanted a sibling, or a friend. Plus, he got a dog. Which survived and returned to a playful little thing with just some food, rest and water. Y/n would go on to remain in Abigails and Johns custody later in life, and become a vital aspect of the gangs family.

#red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 fanfic #fanfiction #hosea x reader #platonic #arthur x reader #dutch van der linde #hosea matthews #arthur morgan #request #child reader #john marston #charles smith

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makriiii · 4 months

Text

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

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goodmorgan · 2 years

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Arthur smoking Hosea’s tossed cigarette in “The Spines of America”

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coweyloaf · 3 months

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So, the pull has ended and the fics you picked were:

✨Characters reaction to finding out your a toe walker

And

⭐Roller skating with characters modern AU

For anyone wanting another Rdr2 character just keep in mind Im only writing mxm so please suggest male characters :))

Edit: I accidentally put Kieran down twice, ignore that, I'll add up the percentage for him when it's over

#rdr2 fic #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 x male reader #rdr2 x reader #rdr2 #red dead fandom #red dead #red dead redemption community #red dead redemption two #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #kieran duffy #javier escuella #dutch van der linde #sean macguire #lenny summers #hosea matthews #bill williamson #john marston

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rdr2stories · 11 days

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"Those fucking hairs." A rdr2 fanfiction.

A fanfiction about young Arthur and John.

John’s hair was itchy, or more like his entire back and shoulders itched from the many small hairs Susan had cut off and although tried to keep away from his neck, had still managed to drive him crazy. He was about a second from jumping up and running into the lake by the small camp, at that point he didn’t care if he would drown, it would be way better than the annoying itching.

Hosea, Arthur and Dutch were out doing… Something, he didn’t really know, something criminal, something that he wasn’t allowed to help with because he was ‘just a kid,’ yeah just a kid who had already murdered someone! Sure it wasn’t his fault but he could handle himself! Instead he was stuck with Susan as she yapped about his bad hygiene which was the reason he had needed his hair chopped in the first place, lice she said. Well it wasn’t like he had had the time or resources for hygiene when he lived on the street, or that he had cared.

He groaned, the small hairs prickling on his back. He hated it, hated it, hated Arthur too, god he hated that man. He was nine years older than him and then he was just allowed to do everything? John was stuck in camp like a kid and that Arthur was out, and he was never even happy about it! He was rarely happy about anything, always annoyed, always frustrated, Hosea said that he never outgrew his delinquent stage and that was why he was always angry. John hated it, mostly because it always went out on him, never Hosea, never Susan, certainly never Dutch, Arthur was after all Dutch’s golden child and John was some random kid they picked up because why not.

God those hairs, John was seriously about to jump in that lake, fuck they were annoying. He twisted his arm, reaching underneath his shirt to try to brush off the hairs on his back, it wasn’t working, they were still there, those fucking hairs were still there. Seriously he needed them off, he needed them gone. For fuck sake! He concidered just taking off his shirt and rolling on the ground but then Susan would go at him with a knife, for a moment the knife seemed better.

Nope he needed to stay alive, to outlive that damn Arthur, to grow up and become better than him- Arthur, horses, Arthur always had another brush laying in his side of the tent that they unfortunately shared. He could use that!

John had never been on his feet so fast, storming by Susan who shouted at him to slow down. He ran into the tent, crossing over the clear line that they had made down the middle and searched Arthur’s bag laying in the corner, clothing, Revolver- Uuu revolver- Wait brush, he could look at the gun later. Did Arthur even have the brush in that bag or was it the other? Damn that man had a lot of bullets. No the brush was definitely in this bag. Is that knife even sharp? Why did he keep it? BRUSH!

He pulled the brush out of Arthur’s bag, immediately pulling off his shirt and starting to remove the annoyingly small hairs with the rough brush. He hadn’t even heard the sound of Arthur and the others returning home until the flap to the tent was drawn back and Arthur’s eyes widened in utter anger at the sight of his stuff spread all over the tent, John sitting on his bed, using his brush on his on bare back.

“What the fuck do you think you are doing?!” Arthur exclaimed as he grabbed John by the back of his neck and hurled him out of the tent to the ground, for a second seeming annoyed that he didn’t have anything to grab onto as John had neither shirt nor hair.

“I just needed to use the brush!” John spat back at him, trying to sit up but being kicked back down by Arthur’s hard boot, and almost as if a button had been hit, John’s head got loud, really loud. Alarms were going off, screaming and shouting at him to get up and run, but his body wasn’t allowing it, he was frozen in place, stuck, stuck back on the street, curled in on himself as he tried to protect his head as the older boys kicked and punched him black and blue for whatever silly excuse they could find.

He could feel all the boots, five, ten, twenty, a punch to the head, a kick on his back, the brushing on his side, his lungs heaving, blood running out of his ear, he knew it wasn’t there, he hoped it wasn’t, he at least knew that it was just Arthur’s boot kicking him and not twenty more, yet, it was there, the blood was there.

“John! John!”

Someone was screaming his name, it wasn’t like they used to scream it, mockingly, angrily, oh poor little John who can’t steal an apple without getting caught, oh John who had cigarette burns on his arm because his dad thought he was stupid, oh little John who couldn’t even see a hanging without crying. This voice, it was confused, worried, panicked.

“John!”

A hand touched his head and he screamed, frantically hitting out at the gentle hand that now laid around his wrists, trying to calm him.

“John!”

No, no, his head screamed as arms wrapped around his, making it completely impossible for him to move. Let me go! He was stuck, he was caught, they were going to place the noose around his neck again, Dutch wouldn't be there this time, he would be hanged, hanged like his father had been hanged.

“I got you kid.”

… Was it mocking? The lawman had said the same thing… But this voice… It was calm, it was… Comforting. Hosea?

John blinked, arms were wrapped around him in a tight embrace as Hosea held him close, breathing heavily. Dutch was standing behind Hosea, his eyes narrow with pity as he looked at John. Arthur was standing way back, his eyes wide in confusion and… Was it regret? John had never been good at reading people.

“I got you son, you are okay.” Hosea said as John melted into the embrace, his body slowly starting to shake as sobs tore through his body. “You are safe.”

I accidently posted this on my spam🧍

#john marston #rdr2 community #rdr2 #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 john #red dead redemption 2 #rdr john #arthur morgan #rdr2 arthur #dutch van der linde #rdr2 dutch #hosea matthews #rdr2 hosea #red dead redemption two #red dead fandom #red dead redemption community

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rayeee10101 · 9 months

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𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐮 𝐑𝐃𝐑𝟐 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

(might do another one for the girls in the gang idk and if this doesn't exactly match the characters were going to pretend it does so don't come for me)

Characters ~ Arthur, John, Javier, Dutch, Hosea, Sean, Charles, and Kieran (this is not in order lol)

Arthur Morgan

Ok, as we said in another post he's definitely a truck driver.

He always has his dog with him no matter where he goes and he most likely has one of those giant bloodhound dogs or a bird dog. Maybe even a stray cat he found in a parking lot, who knows with him?

He probably pulls over on the side of the road to sketch some of the scenery he sees and it most likely causes him to be late to places he needs to be but oh well.

LOVES to put different stickers on his truck and to blow the horn for little kids that wave at him sometimes.

His dog is absolutely spoiled, having a giant bed in the passenger seat and probably over 20+ toys because Arthur can't help himself when he sees new toys or treats.

He's always uploading poorly taken selfies of him and his dog onto facebook (lets be real he's almost 40, he's most def uses facebook)

Dutch Vanderlinde

Let's be real, Dutch owns one of those fake gold shops that try to scam you and sell you fake jewelry, I don't make the rules that's just how it is.

But Dutch is good at his job, even if what he's selling you is fake he'd probably be able to convince you it was real by the end of the conversation.

Takes major pride in his business

Actually makes pretty good money considering he's a good liar lmao.

He def talked John into buying a fake diamond necklace for Abigail, John didn't realize he'd been scammed until Arthur pointed it out lol

Probably would give his S/O fake jewelry from his shop because he is cheap

"It's the thought that counts," he would tell his S/O when they point out that the ring he gave them wasn't real.

Somehow has managed to avoid countless law suits, no one really knows how though

He probably uses his shop as a cover up for money laundering ngl

Hosea Matthews

This ones difficult

lowkey feel like he'd work in a bank

Doesn't question where the large sums of money Dutch deposits comes from because he doesn't want to know lol

Has a picture of John and Arthur hanging up in his office

always having to lecture John on not falling for internet scams because this is like the 5th time he's had to freeze his bank account for fraud.

Always turning Dutch away because he tries to take out loans for stupid things that he doesn't need

Has to help John get back the money Dutch scammed from him ofc

Hosea likes his job though, it pays well and he gets his own office so what is there to complain about?

John Marston

I wanna say he works in a zoo and has to deal without wolves just to be funny but I honestly see him being a mechanic

Always working on Arthur's truck when something happens to it.

Likes to teach Jack how to work on cars also, he considers it their "father, son bonding time"

Buys Jack the nicest truck when Jack is old enough to drive.

Has had to fix Sean's car after he drove it into a tree because he thought it was a good idea to drink and drive.

Drives around a classic car that no one else is allowed to touch or he'll have a stroke right there and then.

Everyone in the town comes to him when they need work done on their car, he even opened up his own show eventually

Javier Escuella

Ok, so I see him working as a singer in a bar, like with a cover band or something

he even performs his own songs that he wrote some nights

people love him

he actually has a lot of followers on social media from posting his music and videos of him playing guitar

if him and his s/o have a kid he definitely teaches them how to play guitar from a young age.

writes songs for his s/o

all the guys come and watch him perform some nights when they are all in town at the same time.

makes youtube tutorials on how to play songs on the guitar.

the other guys are convinced that he's going to become famous one day

Charles Smith

I see him working in an animal sanctuary for endangered animals or hurt animals

Definitely becomes best friends with a literal bear and treats it like your everyday normal pet.

Forms strong bonds with every animals he works with, something about his aurora is calming to be around

Doesn't allow John near the wolves when he visits.

Has had to stop Sean from trying to climb into the lion enclosure more times than he can count

He lets Dutch, Arthur, and Kieran come to visit some of the horses he takes care of.

He does volunteer work with animal shelters and other things like that.

Major animal lover in general, probably dog sits Arthur's dog whenever Arthur can't bring him somewhere

Sean Mcguire

This man CANNOT hold a job

Its not that he's lazy (he is) he just gets bored quickly and hops from job to job.

No one actually knows how he affords his apartment, Hosea is convinced he's selling drugs

He usually works in fast food places for a little bit just to make some quick cash.

Has shown up to work drunk a few times ngl

if he has an s/o he probably shows up to their job whenever their working to annoy them

Tried to get hired at a bar but that most definitely didn't last long considering he got plastered on the first night of the job

He probably is selling drugs but I mean, money is money?

Kieran Duffy

We already know the answer to this, he works at a stable

Tried to get a job with Charles but they didn't hire him :(

LOVES working at the stable, he basically gets to play with horses for most of the day

If him and his s/o have a kid he's definitely teaching them how to ride a horse before they can even walk

is always showing his s/o pictures of different horses he gets to work with

probably is in facebook groups for horses

he's a horsegirl

he owns his own horses too and always makes sure they look pristine and perfect

#arthur morgan #rdr2 #rdr #red dead redemption #red dead redemption 2 #red dead fandom #red dead redemption two #van der linde gang #red dead fanfic #dutch van der linde #hosea matthews #charles smith #kieran duffy #john marston #red dead redemption fanfic

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pluto-rainstorm · 2 months

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New fic!! 🤠

#ao3: plutorainstorm #charthur #johnigail #rdr2 #modern au #arthur morgan #john marston #charles smith #abigail roberts #hosea matthews #bessie matthews #rdr2 fic #red dead redemption 2 #ao3 fanfic

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zanazirafanfic · 4 months

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Quick Update

Phew, okay! I'm finally getting back on schedule a little, I think.

Just finished the 2 whump fics I was behind on, and I'm going to try to get the 2 "25 Days of a Cowboah Christmas" chapters done - or at least well underway - today too, before I start on Whumpcember 11. They'll both be shorter chapters (Chapter 10 starring a member of the gang we haven't seen yet, and Chapter 11 taking a quick jump back in time to visit the younger "old guard") so it shouldn't be too terribly difficult.

Whumpcember Part 11's prompt is "infection," and will star our good old friend Mister Bell. I've included a teaser image below - if anyone can guess the show, character, and scene it's from, you'll know where I'm headed with this. If not, let's just say, I am excite. ;)

@photo1030 @micah-bells-baby-daddy @micahsrevolvers

#fanfiction #rdr2 fanfic #prompt fic #red dead fanfiction #christmas fic #whump fic #arthur morgan #dutch van der linde #hosea matthews #john marston #micah bell #zanazirawrites

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roamingtigress · 6 days

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Dutch van der Linde & Van der Linde Gang Members, Hosea Matthews/Dutch van der Linde Characters: Dutch van der Linde, Hosea Matthews, Arthur Morgan, John Marston, Jack Marston, Edgar Ross, Van der Linde Gang Members (Red Dead Redemption), Andrew Milton Additional Tags: Afterlife, Alternate Universe - Afterlife, Red Dead Redemption 2 Spoilers, Video Game: Red Dead Redemption (2010), Post-Video Game: Red Dead Redemption 2 (2018), Suicide, BAMF Hosea Matthews, vandermatthews, Video Game: Red Dead Redemption 2 (2018), Post-Video Game: Red Dead Redemption (2010), Fluffy Ending, Angst, Fluff and Angst, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Head Injury, Belly Rubs Summary:

Dutch arrives in the afterlife as a broken man and gets his comeuppance, but he is broken in such a way where doesn't understand *why* people are upset with him.

How will his reunion with those whom he loved so dearly and yet hurt them go?

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moeitsu · 1 month

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The Tie Which Linked My Soul To Thee

Summary: It's time to collect a debt

Ao3 Wattpad Masterlist - All Chapters Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.5 Ch.6 Ch.7 Ch.8 Ch.9 Ch.10

Tags: Arthur Morgan/Original Female Character, Widowed, Original Character, Mutual Pining, Slow Build, Eventual Smut, Eventual Romance, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, High Honor Arthur Morgan, Friends to Lovers, Child Loss, Trauma, Canon-Typical Violence, Arthur Morgan Does Not Have Tuberculosis, Arthur Morgan Deserves Happiness, Chubby Arthur Morgan, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence

Ch 4 - The Frost Gleams Where The Flowers Have Been

Time whisked by faster than a hound chasing a rabbit through tall grass. A week had already slipped through Kate's fingers since she first became a part of the camp. Initially planning just a brief stay, she found herself relishing the comforting routine it offered. There was always a warm fire to gather around, a hearty meal to share, and the camaraderie of her newfound friends. But amidst the stability, a yearning for adventure tugged at her heartstrings, urging her to break free from the confines of camp, even if only for a day.

Arthur's comings and goings became a familiar rhythm in the camp's bustling routine. Rarely catching more than a glimpse of him before he vanished on another errand for Dutch, Kate couldn't help but miss his presence. She admired his unwavering dedication to the gang's needs, even if it meant sacrificing his own rest and relaxation. The man seemed to be perpetually on the move, always ready to answer the call of duty, no matter the hour.

Determined to bridge the gap, Kate promised herself to lend a hand the next time Arthur returned to camp, as long as it didn't involve any unsavory activities like killing folk. Meanwhile, she found solace in the company of her fellow campmates. Abigail, Tilly, and Mary-Beth had become her trusted confidantes, bonding over laundry duties and exchanging juicy tidbits of camp gossip. Kate couldn't help but chuckle at the wealth of information she'd amassed about John, courtesy of Abigail's candid revelations. She could probably write a book with how much dirt she had on him.

Kate also found companionship in the likes of Sadie and Lenny, often engaging in games of poker or dominos to while away the hours. Karen and Molly remained enigmatic figures, preferring to keep to themselves, though Kate respected their need for privacy, understanding the complexities of the situation, and Molly’s relationship with Dutch.

Despite their infrequent interactions, Kate held out hope for a chance to connect with Charles, intrigued by the silent strength he exuded. Perhaps a shared hunt would provide the opportunity for meaningful conversation.

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

The girls were gathered around the makeshift wooden table, indulging in a lunch of meat and cheese when Micah swaggered over, looking for trouble as usual. Kate had endured the displeasure of conversing with Micah only twice in the past week, and neither encounter had been pleasant. She noticed his penchant for making inappropriate comments, particularly targeting the other girls. When he wasn't being lewd, he took pleasure in needling the other gang members, especially Lenny, Javier, and sometimes even Arthur. Kate knew Arthur would have put him in his place if Dutch hadn't always conveniently intervened. She fought the urge to punch his greasy face when he made a jab about Arthur's weight, as if he were one to talk. After all, Arthur deserved to eat his fill for all the hard work he put in. Micah was always stirring the pot, and today seemed to be no different.

“Which one of you ladies wants to feed me my lunch?” He said smugly, resting both hands on his gun belt and standing uncomfortably close. The girls chose to ignore him.

“Is this how you treat the men who provide for you?” He exclaimed with annoyance.

Kate kept her head down and continued to eat as she spoke, as if Micah were less than an ant, “What exactly have you provided for us Micah? I’ve never seen you bring in food, or money for the matter. You leave and come back with nothing.”

Micah scoffed and sauntered to stand behind Kate, trying to intimidate her, “I provide information sweetheart, I risk my life out there getting leads for jobs.”

She laughed quietly and shook her head, “you poor thing ,” she mused, “I’ll keep you in my prayers.” The other girls giggled at her comment.

Micah stepped closer to her back, she could almost feel the gut of his belly against her hair, “watch your mouth woman.” He threatened.

Kate sighed and leaned her chin against her palm, bored with the conversation, “or what Micah?” She said with an eye-roll.

She heard him take a deep breath, or rather felt it, as he threw personal space at the wind at this point. He bent down to her ear and said lowly, “maybe I should take you to my cot, and fuck that attitude out of you whore .” He growled.

Kate dropped her fork and whipped her elbow around, turning her whole body with force. Micah yelped as her elbow met his nose with a soft wet crunch, bright red blood dripping through his fingers as he looked up between his brows in anger. She had wanted to do that since the day she met him, fed up with how he talks to the women of the camp. This act was for the girls.

“You dont have a dick to fuck me with Micah. You’re a lousy fucken’ excuse for a man,” she declared standing tall, “talk to me like that again and I’ll make sure I’m holding my knife when I swing next time.”

The other members watched in stunned silence as Dutch emerged from his tent, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife. "Enough of that!" he shouted, his gravelly tone signaling an end to the confrontation.

Micah spat at Kate’s feet and walked away, still trying to stem the blood pouring from his nose. She couldn't help but smirk at the sight – it was definitely broken. Sometime during the commotion, Arthur returned to camp, entering from the tree line as Micah left. She nodded in greeting as he approached.

Before she could walk over to him, Dutch intercepted her, clearly annoyed that their squabble had disturbed him. “Kate, my dear friend,” he said in a brusque tone, “why don't you find some work outside of camp today? Hm? Go make yourself useful.” He patted her shoulder.

Kate furrowed her brows at his insinuation. How was this her fault? Micah had clearly started it; he was always stirring up trouble and never finishing it.

“Arthur!” Dutch called out to the approaching cowboy. “Take Kate with you today. On, whatever it is you’re doing.” He waved them off, sounding like a parent trying to pass on their troublesome child to someone else.

Arthur approached with a shrug, “uh, sure. But I just got back-”

“Herr Morgan!” interrupted a voice, causing Arthur to visibly sigh and pinch the bridge of his nose in annoyance. The list of chores never seemed to end, and Arthur was always the one sent to handle them.

“Strauss,” Arthur acknowledged with a tired voice, turning around to greet the wiry old German.

“How is the debt collecting coming along? Have you collected from that fella Downes?” Strauss inquired.

“No…I have not,” Arthur answered flatly.

“Well, as you know, Mister Morgan, we lent him quite a sum, and it seems he has little intention of paying it back,” Strauss explained as he followed Arthur, who was trying to grab a meal for himself after working all day. “You have not seen him yet, I take it?”

Kate stood back, observing the conversation unfold, patiently waiting to talk to Arthur. He was clearly irritated by Strauss’ interruption but tried to maintain politeness as he continued the conversation. “I-I’m sorry, Strauss. I’ve had a lot on my mind. I’ll go give him a gentle reminder.”

“Not so gentle,” the German corrected. “I don't like his kind. They think they are superior. Please take care of this right away.” With that, Strauss made his exit. Kate knew he wasn't trying to be rude or demanding; it was just another task that, for some reason, Arthur was deemed best suited to handle.

As Arthur finished speaking with Strauss, he turned back to Kate with a tired yet apologetic expression. "Sorry ‘bout that. Looks like Dutch has volunteered us for another errand," he said with a weary smile.

Kate grinned in response, unfazed by the prospect of more work, though she had sympathy for the man, he was clearly exhausted. "No worries, Arthur. I'm always up for the adventure," she replied casually, “wanna saddle up after you finish eating?”

"Sounds perfect," Arthur nodded appreciatively, carrying his plate back to the table. The other girls had already cleaned up and returned to their tasks.

“That was a nice swing you pulled on Micah,” Arthur remarked between spoonfuls of stew, “ ‘bout time someone made that asshole bleed. Just wish I could’a done it sooner.”

“I certainly enjoyed it,” Kate admitted with a smirk, “I hate the way he talks to everyone.”

"Yeah, me too," Arthur agreed, his tone filled with frustration, pushing the contents of the leftover stew around with his spoon. "I don't know why Dutch insists on keepin’ him around," he added, glancing around as if afraid of being overheard.

Kate leaned against the table, her gaze following Micah's path. "He ain't good for nothing aside from causing trouble," she remarked, her voice firm.

Arthur brought the bowl to his lips and drained the last of his stew and stood up, determination in his eyes. "I'd give anything to watch that shit-stain hang," he declared as they headed towards their horses.

Kate nodded in agreement. "Amen to that."

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

The Downes ranch was a short ride west, Arthur taking the lead as Kate rode beside him. Lorena whinnied with excitement at the chance to stretch her legs and run again.

“How did things go with Mary?” Kate inquired, breaking the comfortable silence. She had been wanting to discuss it with him but hadn't found the opportunity amidst their busy lives.

“It went alright, I guess,” Arthur began, maintaining a steady trot as he settled into the saddle. “Saved her little brother from some crazy cult,” he added with a huff.

“A cult? Good Lord, I hope it wasn't those bastards with the pointy white hoods,” she exclaimed, a hint of concern in her voice.

Arthur chuckled. “Nah, nothing that serious. They called themselves Chelonians, followers of the turtle or something,” he explained, shaking his head with amusement. “Hell if I know, they seemed like they were ready to jump off the cliff when I found them.”

“Yikes, poor kid probably just looking for some kind of purpose in his life,” she remarked with sympathy.

“Yup, ain't we all,” Arthur agreed, scanning the horizon before turning to Kate, “you a religious woman?” he asked curiously.

Kate pondered the question for a moment before responding, “Sorta,” she shrugged, “I used to be, I was raised catholic. My mother was pretty involved in the Vatican before she came here, so she carried a lot of those beliefs with her.”

“Pardon my ignorance, but um, what's a vatican?”

Kate smiled at his question, “it’s a city, in Rome,” she answered, “s’posed to be the Center of Christianity.”

Arthur’s eyes lit up with interest, “Rome? I thought you said you was from Boston?”

She couldn't help but laugh, “I am, my mother was from Rome,” she clarified, “anyways, after she died the whole religion thing didn't really stick. Although sometimes I still find myself prayin’, just don’t know to who.”

Arthur nodded at her answer, taking in the new information. Kate spoke up again and reciprocated his question, “are you a religious man?”

He shook his head firmly, “nah, I don't believe in nothin’.”

“Oh c’mon, you gotta believe in something. What do you make of this mess we call life?” Kate teased, trying to prompt a more serious answer from him.

He sighed, “I believe everything must happen for a reason, otherwise, what's the point of it all?”

“Well that’s much better than nothing” she said with a smile, “but I bet that belief will drive ya crazy too,” she thought about her next question for a moment before finally asking it, “what do you make of death?”

Arthur kept his gaze forward as they trotted, seemingly avoiding the question. After a moment, he spoke up again, his voice sounding small. “I don’t know anything ‘bout that either.”

Kate exhaled softly. “If I remember correctly, that agent, Milton, said you were wanted for murder,” she paused, “who’d ya kill?” She knew she was probably pushing her luck, but if he didn’t want to answer she wouldn’t pry.

Arthur shot her a look from under the brim of his hat. “Damn, woman, you sure are forward, ain’t you?” His lips twitched in a small smile.

Kate shrugged nonchalantly. “I’m just asking!” she said defensively. “You’re an interesting man, Arthur. The first time we met, you were robbing a stagecoach, telling me you're a railway worker. Next thing I know, I see you again, and suddenly you got a $5000 bounty on your head. Forgive a woman for asking.” She laughed.

He laughed and shook his head, “I’m afraid that's a story for another time friend,” he said, nudging his mare's side and picking up the pace, “c’mon it ain't far now, I’ll race ya.” He added, changing the subject.

Arthur wasn’t afraid to admit he had killed people; he knew she would have left the gang a while ago had she felt she was in danger. But he worried about what she would think of him when he told her the whole truth. He felt like a fool; he wasn't pretending to be innocent, but he liked what he had with her. It was easy, it was natural, and he feared when she knew the truth, she would think differently of him, think less of him.

Kate yipped, and Lorena sprang into action, beginning their race along the final stretch to the ranch. As they rode, Arthur pulled on his reins ever so slightly, letting Kate take the lead. He watched as she whooped and hollered, riding past with a grin plastered on her face.

A heavy cloud settled over him; this wasn't just some silly horse race with a pretty lady. They were riding to collect a debt, a debt that needed to be repaid because his gang needed money. And money was what got them into this mess in the first place. If things had gone differently in Blackwater, they wouldn't even be here. Arthur shook his head at the memory, suddenly reminded of his situation. He’s a wanted man, an outlaw; he’s here on a job, and he would make damn sure it got done.

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

Kate admired the small ranch as they hitched their horses to a fence post out front. It was a cozy house with a neat garden, and sprawling plains for grazing animals. "Not a bad spot to make a living," she thought.

A woman sat on the porch swing, sewing something in her lap, while a young boy tended to the chickens nearby. In the garden, a man was busy with his vegetables. Arthur marched toward the man, presumably Mr. Downes, prompting Kate to quicken her pace to catch up.

"Thomas Downes!" Arthur's voice boomed, startling Kate. His tone was starkly different from how he usually spoke. She realized he was putting on a show of strength. Annoyed that he hadn't planned their approach together, she followed behind him.

“Thomas Downes!” He repeated, “you owe me money!” As Arthur swung open the garden gate with force, dirt kicked up into the air.

Mr. Downes stood up, hands raised defensively, clutching a rake to his chest as if it were his shield against the impending confrontation, “oh, no-no I-I’m.” His voice trembled.

Arthur approached him with heavy steps, each one more intimidating than the last, “c'mere you maggot,” he spat. With a swift motion, he ripped the rake from Mr. Downes' grasp, leaving Kate stunned into silence.

"Please, sir, I-I have family, please," Mr. Downes pleaded, backing up against the opposite fence post. Kate followed them into the garden, her heart racing with unease as she witnessed Arthur's actions.

As Arthur swung his fist into the man’s face, Kate gasped in horror. At the same moment, Mrs. Downes came running from the porch, her voice filled with desperation. "He’s not well! Please, mister, he’s not well!" she pleaded, her eyes wide with fear. She was about to join them in the garden when her son held her back, silently signaling that it was better for his father to bear the brunt of the punishment. Kate’s mouth tasted like vinegar, this was wrong.

“You think I give a shit about your family?” Arthur spat, his voice dripping with contempt.

“Why does it have to come to this?” Mr. Downes cried, shielding himself from Arthur's blows. “Please! Be reasonable!”

“We ain't a charity, Mr. Downes,” Arthur lowered himself to the man's level, his tone softening slightly. “Believe me, I didn’t want this either,” he added quietly, his regret palpable.

With a forceful grip, he grabbed Mr. Downes by his collar and shoved him against the post, the impact enough to break one of his ribs.

“That's enough, Arthur!” Kate roared, stepping closer, her eyes blazing with anger.

“I-I don't have the money,” Mr. Downes panted, struggling to catch his breath.

Arthur looked around at the scene, his frustration evident. “Then sell your wife,” he spat out, his voice laced with malice, “sell your house, I don't care!” He raised a fist and stopped when he heard the familiar click of a revolver.

He turned around to see Kate, pointing her gun at him, the expression on her face made his heart sink. There was no need for him to tell her the truth now, she saw everything she needed to see already.

“I said, that’s enough,” she repeated, her voice firm. “Put him down.” Arthur released Mr. Downes, who collapsed to his knees, coughing up blood. His wife rushed to his side, her face etched with concern.

“You gonna shoot me?” Arthur's voice was filled with bitterness. “Shoot me and take the $5000? Huh? That's your plan,” he continued, growing more agitated with each passing moment. “Well, get on with it!” he shouted.

“How much does he owe you?” Kate's voice cut through the tension, devoid of emotion.

Arthur lowered his hands, “what?”

“How much does he owe you?” she repeated, her tone impatient.

“$20,” Arthur answered reluctantly.

Kate holstered her weapon and pulled a wad of cash from her satchel, she counted out twenty bills and grabbed Arthur’s hand, shoving the money into his palm.

“Here, no sense in killin’ a man over $20,” she turned to the family, “Mrs. Downes, I suggest you take that man to a doctor. I heard you say he was unwell, and he probably has a broken rib or two now.”

Arthur stared at the money in his hand, his thoughts swirling like a storm. He wanted to hurl it to the ground and watch it burn.

The family lifted Mr. Downes and made their way to the wagon, “th-thank you,” she said, fear still evident in her voice.

Kate watched them depart, her gaze lingering until the sounds of the wagon faded into the distance. Turning to Arthur, who stood before her like a statue carved from stone.

“What the fuck was that?” she scolded, her tone sharp like a whip.

Arthur opened his mouth, then shut it, grappling for words like a fish out of water.

“You don't even have a reason do you? Beatin’ on a sick man like that? For $20?” Kate’s voice rose with each question.

As the seconds passed by Arthur felt embarrassment creep up his spine, his shame quickly manifesting into anger. “We ain’t a charity,” he finally muttered, repeating what he had said to Mr. Downes. His voice barely above a whisper, struggling to maintain his composure.

“So you resort to killing him,” she remarked, her voice tinged with disappointment as she observed his expression.

“I’m an outlaw Kate, I shoot first, ask questions later,” he spat.

“Yeah well that's a dumb fucken philosophy,” she retorted sharply , “you’re sure as shit an outlaw. But you ain’t a fucking monster Arthur. That man was sick , he had no way of defending himself. Strauss could’ve waited for his money.” She finished, striding towards her mare. The sense of disillusionment weighed heavy in her heart. She had glimpsed Arthur's tough exterior when they first met at Emerald Ranch, but she never imagined it would lead to this. It made her stomach churn.

“If you don't like the way we do things then you can leave,” Arthur's voice came from behind her, cutting through the tension like a knife.

Kate stopped in her tracks, why does this hurt so much? She’d known them for only a week, but the thought of leaving filled her with dread. It wasn't just the familiar and simple daily tasks of cooking and cleaning that anchored her to the camp; it was the friendships she had forged. They were the closest thing she had to a family in a decade.

She drew in a shaky breath and regained her composure, not turning to face him yet, “do you ever stop and think about what all this senseless killing will turn you into?” Before he could answer she finished for him, turning to meet his gaze, “When you kill an innocent, you become a little less of a man and little more of an animal.”

Without missing a beat Arthur had his answer, “then what you’re looking at ain’t human.” He sauntered over to Kate with slow purposeful steps. His anger was still present, but as he drew closer she saw the look in his eyes. They looked dead, and devoid of color. The sun was setting behind the mountains to the north, and a frigid wind brought in dark heavy clouds. As if the sky was a reflection of the turmoil in his heart. Darkness covered him like a blanket of shame. A heavy, suffocating blanket just waiting to bury the truth.

“My hands are so stained with blood,” he began, his voice wavering, “that I can’t even remember the face of the first innocent I killed,” he drew in a breath and looked at his boots, “that ain’t something you can change.”

The wind picked up, carrying tiny bullets of rainwater that tickled against her face. She watched him, and her heart panged. She wasn’t ready to tell him, and perhaps she’ll never get the chance to. But she related to the outlaw, more than she ever anticipated. Her mind raced, bringing back memories of faceless bodies and blood stained skin. Kate pushed the memory down, swallowing it like a spoon of molasses.

“I don’t intend to change that,” her voice, sounding like a whisper against the heavy wind.

“Then what do you intend Kate,” his voice sounded coarse, like his throat was thick, “why does a woman like you hang around a bunch of outlaws?”

Now it was Kate's turn to gape like a fish, she still didn't understand herself why she chose to stay. She wanted to think of them as family but she knew it was absurd, and most of the gang probably wouldn't feel the same way.

Arthur waited for her answer. “It’s better than being alone,” she finally said, thunder rumbled in around them like a giant beating a drum. “And I like them, they're good people.” She added feeling like an idiot for having no real reason for her to stay.

Arthur sighed and shook his head, turning to leave.

And suddenly, she realized the answer was walking away ,“and, I like you.”

When his eyes met hers, they were pleading, like it pained him to speak to her. “Then you’re a fool Kate. There ain’t nothing to like about me. I’m a bad man, and I ain’t gonna change.” He spoke as if he were reciting a poem he had memorized, the words flowing with such ease one would think he was trained, no , he was raised to believe it was true.

“I can’t escape this life. I don’t know how to live any other way,” he sounded like a small child.

“I don’t believe that Arthur,” Kate knew there was good in him, she’d seen it. And she considered herself to be a living testament that it’s not too late to change. She wanted to shout at him, to embrace him, to beat his chest and tell him to pick himself up and break the cycle .

Instead, she stood silently as Arthur shook his head once more, walked over to his horse, and left her at the ranch. Without a word.

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

The journey back felt like a whirlwind, the cold rain pelting down relentlessly, soaking Kate to the bone. She looked up to the familiar sound of a rowdy piano and drunken laughter, and was surprised to see herself outside the Valentine saloon. Having not paid much attention to her ride, her mind racing with thoughts, almost all of them about Arthur.

“Guess I should take the hint huh?” Kate chuckled wearily to Lorena, patting the mare's neck as she dismounted. She tied her under a small awning, sheltering from the downpour while she went in for a drink.

As she knocked the mud off her boots, a familiar voice called her name. She turned to see Charles waving from the nearby gun shop. In the dim light, his silhouette was unmistakable as he jogged over to meet her.

“I thought I recognized you riding in,” he greeted. “This storm’s a real beast. What brings you out here?” concern evident in his voice.

Kate contemplated her response. It's a long story, is what she wanted to say. “I could ask you the same,” she replied with a faint smile.

“I was just getting some supplies for hunting,” Charles explained, gesturing to the rain. “Planned on leaving tonight, but it seems I'm stuck here for now.”

“Bummer,” Kate remarked, her exhaustion seeping through her words. She craved a neat glass of whiskey to warm her aching bones.

Charles narrowed his eyes, sensing her distress. “Are you alright?” he asked gently.

She looked down at her boots and sighed, no sense in lying to him. It was clear she was upset. And she had been looking to talk to Charles more anyway.

“Honestly,” she huffed, “no, I’m not. Arthur and I collected a debt today and Arthur was just-” she trailed, unsure what to say. Charles was his friend, and she didn’t want to bad mouth him.

Understanding washed over Charles's face as he nodded sympathetically. “Arthur was being Arthur,” he murmured.

Kate bit her lip, “yeah.” Her disappointment deepened as she realized she had Arthur all wrong.

“Let me buy you a drink,” Charles suggested, holding the saloon doors open with a warm smile.

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

In a secluded corner upstairs, Kate slouched in a rickety chair, whiskey warming her insides. Charles, equally deep in his cups, listened attentively as she recounted the events at the Downes ranch.

“And then he told me I shoot first, ask questions later ,” she mimicked in Arthurs familiar southern drawl, “it's barbaric!”

He chucked taking a swig of his drink, “that’s a dumb fucken philosophy,” he agreed.

Kate laughed as she slammed her glass on the table, “that's exactly what I said!”

They both laughed together over the coincidence, Kate’s heart felt lighter. It felt good to vent to someone, someone other than the girls. Not that she didn’t love them, but Charles was refreshing, he was new, and he was close to Arthur. She felt safe knowing that Charles saw a different side of him too.

His laughter quieted and went back to his usual deep comforting tone, “I’m sorry Kate, Arthur is,” he hesitated, searching for the right answer, “a complicated man.”

“I can see that,” she said quietly, her face still hot from a mix of whiskey and laughter.

“The man has a heart of gold,” he added, “but it's buried deep beneath his outlaw code.”

Kate didn’t understand, Charles was part of the same gang, but even he disapproved of his code, “I don’t get it,” she began, the words seemingly harder to pronounce, “you’s an outlaw too.”

Charles shook his head, his gaze steady, “I am, and I’ve had my moments, I’ll admit,” he lifted a hand as if he were swearing on a Bible, “but I don’t hurt innocent people.” Kate said nothing, choosing to stare at the water stains on the wooden table, her drunken vision making them twist shape.

He leaned in closer, “there’s a good man within him Kate. But he is wrestling with a giant, and the giant wins. Time, and time again.”

She thought she mumbled something along the lines of I know what that is like but the words barely came out. A heavy tiredness taking over, the alcohol bringing her down like a vessel struck in water. Kate heard a chuckle from Charles, in the next moment he was under her arm and leading her to a room.

“Stay here tonight, get some sleep on an actual bed,” he urged softly. Kate made no protest as her head sank into the feathered pillow. Her body melted into the sheets.

“I’ll be leaving in the morning,” he murmured from the doorway, “you should come hunting with me.” Kate tried to say yes, but all that came out was a hum, like a cicada quieting its song as darkness descended.

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